Chapter 36

“Cathy,” called the voice through her slightly open window at the ranch. It was in the early hours before dawn. “Cathy” he called the second time when she did not appear.

Soon she showed and threw open the curtains. “Chris,” she raised the window to full open. “Chris, what are you doing here . . . we don’t want any more to do with you.” Her voice was firm as she scolded him.

“I came to see you one more time,” he said with his hat in his hand. “I’m truly sorry about your father, but it was not my fault he was killed.”

“Oh yes it is,” her voice rose “if you had only taken off that gun, then none of this would have happened.”

“What would that accomplish? Their out to kill me . . . if I take off my gun then I will not have a chance,” he pleaded.

“You’re a gunman and you’ll be one until some one . . . (choke) kills you . . . so go away . . . we’ve suffered enough.” She closed the window and drew the curtains to cover the glass.

He stood there for a few minutes hoping she would reappear once more. He finally turned and walked away toward the road where he had left his horse, Midnight. He stood by the fence near the gate to the ranch and waited until the dawn light came. He watched as the cowboys went about getting ready for the days work. When Cathy came out of the house he stood erect and strained his eyes to see her as she walked to the barn. Two or three minutes later she rode out through the open barn door. She then turned her horse toward the main gate. Chris mounted his stud and waited for her to come riding his way. She was at full gallop when she rode past him and reined her mount toward Willow Bend.

He spurred his horse and raced to catch up with her. She whipped her mare into a break neck pace to evade him. It was now apparent to him, she didn’t want to see him, and so he pulled his horse to a halt. He continued to watch as she sped on down the road toward the little town. He then let his horse follow her at a slow lopping speed.

She was in Willow Bend a good ten minutes before he arrived. Among all the other horses and people he soon spied her. She was talking with the sheriff of the county. She stood pointing at him as he rode slowly up the street toward them. The sheriff came to meet with him in the middle of the street, as she hurried inside the jail house.

“Miss Morgan claims you’re harassing her and her family,” said the sheriff.

“I just wanted to talk to her and express my sorrow on the death of her father.”

“She claims you tried to break into her house.”

“No, I just called her to the window.”

“If you go near her again . . . I’ll have to place you under arrest,” threatened the sheriff.

“That won’t be necessary,” he sighed “I’m leaving . . . for good,” he pulled his horse in a one hundred and eighty degree turn and halted him for a few seconds. He looked over at the jail house, to see her standing in the door way. “Tell her. . .” he stopped.

After a few seconds the sheriff spoke. “Tell her what?”

“Tell her I’m truly sorry . . . and (choke) so long.” He touched his stud in the ribs and the animal started a slow gallop down the street. He made the turn at the split in the road and headed north.

“He said he was truly sorry and so long,” the sheriff repeated the message to Cathy. They both watched him ride away and out of sight. Tears were trickling down both cheeks on her face. “Goodbye . . . Chris,” she sobbed.