The Bridge on Cahill’s Creek

It’s been close to a year. I arrived after the caustic crisis called the ’civil war’ was officially proclaimed as over. I reckon I was fortunate, I survived intact, a blue belly and an officer. Orphaned as a youth, the Arapaho having seen to that. I was found wandering not far from the slaughter of my folks and all that remained of the small wagon train, three years old, dazed, hungry, and thirsty with little memory of what happened. I just knew they were gone, all gone. Taken to the nearest fort, then to an orphanage I was raised by Sisters who were strict, but fair, and not without compassion. Better than most.

At seventeen and feeling a little lost I joined the army worked hard and rose to the rank of a captain. Having no roots and nothing to return to, I was brave, bold, fearless, and maybe even reckless with my life, gaining quite a reputation with the men. The boys in blue called me ‘Spartacus’, and Johnnie Reb called me ‘the Magician’ on account of takin’ so many hits only to be back in the saddle again.

It was spring 1865. I mustered out with a stack of greenbacks, havin’ no family and no one to send money to, not like the worthless currency Johnnie Reb was stuck a holdin’. I road hard to join a wagon train west and put as many miles as possible between me and the horrors of the war I had just witnessed. Catching up with a train in Kansas I explained myself to the wagon master who gladly welcomed my extra gun. I was hired to ride flank and protect animals and stragglers, mostly on account of wagon problems, and sometimes sickness or child birth. I helped mend wagons, replace wheels, hold newborns, drive oxen, and provide fresh meat thankfully received, a most welcome addition to these pilgrims dinner pots. On several occasions I drove off predators, man and animal alike stayin’ back fer enough so as not to chew any more dust than necessaire.

At night several different families would feed me supper. Around the campfire we would swap stories and I got to ask about places in the West. Arriving at Ft. Hall and after inquiry I continued west and settled in the Boise Basin near the mining towns of Centreville and Idaho City along the westerly edge of the Rocky’s in the Boise Mountains adjacent to the beautiful Sawtooth’s in the Territory of Idaho, the ‘Gem of the Mountains’. Figured I must be fulfilling what my folks had started out to do.

I made my way into town a journey of about ten miles, seated on my handsome boy ‘Jackson’, a Morgan stallion named in honor of the Confederate General who stood strong and still as a stonewall. He would not move a hair when I shot from a mounted position, even with my .52 caliber Sharps, a thundering herd if ever there was one. Strong with good speed and stamina, I couldn’t go no better. Running by my side was ‘Bear’ a huge mongrel of disputed blood lines, mighta been part black bear for all I know with his dark color and size, intimidating and fearful, faithful unto death. These two were my only companions. Seemed sufficient at first but I admittedly got lonely thus my bi-monthly trip into town. Maybe just lunch at Beaties Cafe or a stop at the Dry Gulch saloon for a beer or two and sum jawin’ with the regulars. Often to legitimatize my goin’, at least in my own eyes, I would stop at Woody’s General for a few supplies.

About ten minutes into my journey, I would pass by the old bridge on Cahill’s Creek and since the only conversatin’ I had were with a horse and a dog, it didn’t seem strange to talk to a bridge. The pillars still looked strong, but the bridge had not been used for years the plank walk and railing rotted or gone. Still standing, but only a shadow of its former self. Not safe for crossin’ a man had to look far upstream for secure passage. I always addressed the bridge politely, like an elderly friend. We talked about the weather, seasons changin’, late summer to fall. Sayin’ my goodbyes and scanning the area I left reluctantly feelin’ there is more to this situation than meets the eye. Hidden from view, deep in the foliage eyes saw and ears heard, my sixth sense telling me I was not alone.

The road into town was well worn with wagon ruts in places, trees lining the west side of the trail, cottonwoods, elms, a smattering of pines, and quaking aspens with the creek on the east. Two weeks had passed since my visit with the bridge and I stopped, looking with wonder. New solid boards adorned the foot planks with a sturdy railing on the sides. Smiling I said ‘look at you’! gussied up and ready to ride’. After a short conversation, I tried the planks and then led Jackson over the bridge to the trail that paralleled the river on the other side. It saved me about fifteen minutes to town, a half hour all together, pondering who would have done this.

True to my regular routine of townin’ and reachin’ the bridge again I politely conversated before passin’ over and thankin’ it once more for the kindly crossin’ and savin’ me time on my trip to town. Once over I noticed the ground disturbed by fresh milling hoof prints, circling as if undecided which direction to take before they hed off south away from town and the bridge. My gut and the hairs on my neck told me somethin’ was afoul here. Barely puttin’ my boots into Jacksons flanks he shot off with Bear in tow. Then the scream.

In a short distance we slowed rounding a curve careful to stay concealed in the trees that bordered the edge of the property. Comin’ up behind a chicken coup and some low outbuildings I saw three rough lookin’ men facing a girl, two of them still seated laughin’ and smilin’ while the third had tangled a wildcat. Fighten’ back for all she was worth, he managed to knock her to the ground and straddled her as he began to tear at her clothes. Flailing him with her fists he hit her hard in the head stunnin’ her. Pullin’ my .52 caliber Sharps and layin’ it over the saddle I whispered to Jackson, ‘be perfectly still’. Takin’ aim at 200 yards I splattered his brains all over the girl and the ground. The other two were shocked trying to regain control of their horses while I quickly reloaded and took aim telling Bear ‘Go’! That shot passed through vital organs of the second man as he fell to the ground. The third man wasn’t so lucky as his horse was in a total panic with Bear nipping at its legs and he was thrown to the ground. Horrible screams could be heard as he vainly tried to protect himself, with Bear ripping at his neck.

Riding up, the girl was shoving the dead man off of her, still on the ground sobbing and hysterical. Seeing me she jumped up and grabbed her Greener. ‘Woe ma’am’ I said, ‘I’m the one along with my dog who just saved your honour and your life’. A look of recognition filled her face as she lowered the Greener and sat on the porch steps shaking, her tears mixed with the blood of her assailant flowing down her face and onto her bare chest. Seemingly unaware of her exposure I said ‘ma’am’, ‘I’ll go draw some water in that bucket over yonder while you clean up and put on a new shirt’.

After leavin’ the bucket of water by the open door and callin’ in, Jackson and I proceeded to drag the bodies out of sight and collect their horses. Going through their pockets and gatherin’ anything of value, with Jackson and Bears help pullin’ on the end of the rope, I got them loaded over their horses tied down and ready for the trip into town and the sheriff. Ridin’ back to the house I was surprised to see you clean, composed, and offerin’ a cup of joe. Lookin’ me strait in the face you apologized for pullin’ the Greener. ‘You and your dog’, ‘Bear’ I said, ‘saved my life and preserved my dignity kindly addressin’ my indiscretion. ‘I’m at a loss for words’ she said, ‘thank you will never be enough’. ‘Well,’ I said smilin’, ‘this coffee is a good start’.

We sat in an awkward silence realizin’ we were both lonesome and enjoyin’ each other’s company. ‘My name is Jace McCall’ ‘and mines Hailey Hunter’ you responded. ‘Well Miss Hunter I’ve got to run these bodies into town and explain to the sheriff’. ‘I’ll leave Bear with you, who had already sided up, puttin’ his face against her lookin’ for some lovin’. ‘I would like that’ you said. ’My insides are still in turmoil and his company and protection will surely be welcome’. ‘I’ll stop back after leavin’ town and bring sum vittles for dinner and a big meaty bone for Bear’. ‘That would be greatly appreciated as I don’t know if I could rustle up a respectable dinner, cupboards are a little bare and my thinkin’s surely conflusterated’.

Ridin’ into town I quickly became the center of attention. Pullin’ three horses with three carcasses hanging over them wasn’t an ordinary site especially for small town back woods Idaho. I pulled up in front of sheriff McConnell’s office as he set with his boots over the railin’ waitin’ for my arrival before he even moved. ‘Got these boys attempting to rape and possibly murder a woman. With Bears help we prevented that from happening’ I spoke. Walkin’ down the steps he grabbed their hair and pulled to look at their faces. ‘What you got here is the Bellamy Brothers’ he said. ‘Got paper on them a few months ago. Sum bitches robbed a bank in Baker City Oregon last year and killed a teller and an innocent bystander among other crimes. Hard cases. Come in and let’s see what money you got a comin’. Lookin’ at the paper with the rewards posted on these boys, McConnell said ‘what with killin’ and all, them boys add up to a thousand dollars’.

You did good Jace and what with your reputation from the war maybe you’ve found your callin’. ‘And what might that be’, I asked? ‘Law dog, bounty hunter, or both’ he spoke. ‘This is raw, wide open lawless country in need of good men like you.’ ‘Thanks for your confidence. I’ll have to think on that’. ‘You do son, you do just that’. I let the sheriff have two of the horses and some of the guns, while takin’ a full complement of their hardware and ammunition with the best of the horses for Hailey. Arranging for the money to be put in my account in the bank minus fifty dollars for the sheriff, I stopped by the general store and loaded up the spare horse with everything I could think of and more for Haileys empty cupboards along with three new shirts before stoppin’ by Beaties for a big meaty bone for Bear and two of the supper specials. Covered and wrapped they would still be warm by the time I got back.

Returnin’ midday, I approached the house with a wave noticin’ Hailey and Bear sittin’ the porch right where I left them. Bear looked up respondin’ to Jackson’s winny before puttin’ his head back on the porch boards content everything was all right. Hailey rose and smiled with curiosity. ‘What is all this’?’ ‘Just bein’ neighborly’ I said. ‘Figured you could use a few things. Yer cupboards were a callin’. But before we unpack, let’s eat’.

Carefully unwrappin’ the dinners from Beaties and tossin’ Bear the meaty bone we sat in the two rockers on the front porch. ‘Pa and I would sit here in the evenings when the weather allowed. He made them and whether we sat in silence or shared these were the good times in a hard life. He spoke about his growin’ up in Iowa, but especially about Ma. Both of us with such fond memories. Lost her in childbirth in ‘59. After her passin’ Pa aged rapidly and his heart gave out while plowin’. Found him face down lyin’ in the field. I’ve been alone ever since, my neighbor Joe lookin’ in on me and takin’ me to town to trade my eggs and vegetables for the things I need, sometimes findin’ a little color in the creek. I don’t know why I’m a tellin’ you all this, just seems I need to unburden my mind. I git by pretty simple and all. I’m really not so helpless’. ‘Thought never entered my mind’ I said. ‘Seen the way you was fighten’ back’ and stopped there. Didn’t need to say more.

‘Come on’ I said wantin’ to change the direction of the conversatin, ‘them cupboards are a callin’. After both of us made several trips you exclaimed, ‘these cupboards have never been so full’. The shirts are so beautiful and smell so good I’m not wantin’ to wear them for work. How can I thank you’? Then reachin’ in my vest pocket I pulled out $468 in greenbacks along with some gold coins and change. ‘What is this’? you asked. ‘Them boys left you a gift’. ‘But it’s not mine to take’, ‘but it is mine to give’ I said. ‘I can’t take that. It rightfully belongs to you’. ‘Them boys had paper on them, a thousand dollars in total. This is for your needs’. Stunned and silent she reluctantly accepted the money. ‘Most I’ve ever had at one time. It’s hard to wrap my thinkin’ around it’.

Leading her outside I pointed to the extra horse. ‘He’s yers too along with the tack and saddle, a Henry repeatin’ rifle, and a Remington revolver with plenty of ammunition’. Slumping you sat in a rocker with your hands to your face, weepin’, your body shakin’. Finally you spoke. ‘In one day I experienced Hell and now Heaven. It’s all because of you’. Getting up you wrapped your arms around me, cryin’ again, liken to never let go. I returned the embrace hopin’ this moment would never end. What a change a day can bring. Previously unknown and strangers now locked in the embrace of two lonely hearts, broken vessels being mended.

Who can resist the charm of a beautiful country girl, certainly not I. Comin’ over most ever day, I helped with a lot of repairs, not that she wasn’t able, and with a couple townies and Joe we got a new barn in the air. Hailey was particular proud of that, with stalls for the horses, lovin’ the mare she named Sky I brought to her who was on familiar terms with Mr. Jackson. There was a loft for hay, feed for the horses and a couple of beeves, the start of a small herd.

I decided to take the sheriffs advice and hunted hard cases he had papers on. The pay was irregular but amounted to more than anything else I could be a doin’. Livin’ in an area fairly remote and sparse of folks, I often had to travel a way to get my prey. I would then deposit them with the nearest badge toter, confirmin’ their idenity and collectin’ my reward. The Marshall’s badge McConnell convinced me to wear helped build relationships with the local law dogs, easin’ the tension they may have felt toward bounty huntin’.

‘Let’s bundle up and take a short walk under the stars’ I suggested one night after dinner. ‘OK’ Hailey said with a curious look on her face. With Bear in tow and a majestic sky above I spoke. ‘It just seems ifin I’m spendin’ most of my time and money here I should have better sleepin’ accommodations that just the barn when it’s too late to return to my place and a comfortable bed. Now, I ain’t a complainin’ and that straws mighty soft but the cold is settin’ in and the nights is kinda lonely. ‘What are you suggesting Mr. McCall’? your voice dripping with gleeful sarcasm. ‘Now don’t make this difficult’ I said with a chuckle. Turnin’ I looked at you with the moons glo on your beautiful smilin’ face ‘Will you marry me and be my wife and put an end to my sufferin’? Without hesitation you filled my arms and my lips with kisses. ‘That’s a yes I guess’ I finally got out. ‘Yes yes’! Hailey replied.

‘You know I began to love you long before I met you’. Cocking my head to one side, ‘what do you mean’ I asked’? ‘One day by chance I happened upon you talkin’ to the old bridge. At first I thought it mighty peculiar then innocent and attractive. Course it didn’t hurt it was comin’ from a rugged handsome cowboy sittin’ a fine horse. I would look for you to come and figured out your schedule. Hidden out of sight I needed to find a way for you to find me. I was just too shy to do the easy thing of walkin’ up and sayin’ Hi’. ‘So, it was you that repaired the bridge’ I said. ‘Joe and I’ you spoke. ‘He had a stack of some lumber left over from a project and we precut it to size and hauled it all over in his wagon. Tearing off the old and replacin’ it with new, we spanned the bridge in no time, addin’ the railin’. And still you didn’t come. I almost popped out one day but just couldn’t do it. It took your gallant rescue to find me and I have loved you before and since.’ ‘And I surely love you. Until I crossed over the bridge l never knew what I was missin’. Without delay I made that girl my wife!

Cahill’s Bridge exists as a reminder of all that can be, and if neglected, all that can be lost. ‘Too many walls and not enough bridges’. It will take effort and persistence to build a causeway of connection, bridges that join hearts, change lives, foster friendships, and bring healing to the world. ‘The past is the bridge to the future’. It’s the key to knowing what to discard and what to keep, which bridge to burn, which bridge to cross. Eternity awaits your decision……….