That evening after the kids were in bed, the adults went out to the porch to take advantage of the stiff breeze that blew across the prairie. It was Clark that broached the subject. “Nathan, you’ve done a fine job with the homestead, these last few years.”

Nathan’s square face lost its genial smile. “I’ve tried to do right by your inheritance.”

“Howard and I were thinking about moving on.”

“Moving on?” Beatrice interjected.

“Yep.” Howard said with a nod. “West.”

“You just came back.” Beatrice said.

“I know, Bea, but we want to go west and join up with the Pinkertons.” Clark said.

“Pinkertons?” She yelped.

“Yep.”

Beatrice rounded on Howard, “Don’t you ‘yep’ me again. You just came back from the war and you want to go west? WEST? There ain’t any laws in the west. I just got you back safe from the war and you want to go get yerselves killed by outlaws.” She threw her hands in the air and gave an exasperated snort, “Pinkertons!”

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

“Now, Bea, we’re trying to do right by you.” Clark said, putting a hand on Beatrice’s shoulder. “You and Nathan have a family now and this is your place. Wouldn’t be fair for us to come back and take it out from under you. We’ve got time yet to earn ourselves a stake and a place of our own.”

Beatrice shrugged his hand aside and turned her back on both of her brothers. “Plenty of ways to earn yerselves a stake that don’t involve getting yerselves killed by outlaws.”

“You’re right. There are plenty of other ways to earn ourselves a stake.” Clark leaned on the porch rail in silence for a moment before going on, wrestling with the words. “We been to war, Bea. It changes a man. I don’t expect you understand quite what that means. We killed men, Bea, killed them for no other reason than that they stood on the other side of the field. Killed people we would have shared a drink with most any other day.” He relaxed his white-knuckled grip on the railing. “I can’t settle back to what I was before.” He spoke softly, almost to himself.

Beatrice turned back toward her brothers, sheen of tears glittering in her eyes. “Don’t suppose I can say anything that will talk you hare-brained fools out of this?”

“Nope.” Howard said, enfolding his sister in a warm hug. “We’ll be all right. We’ve got the good Lord and dumb luck on our side.”

Beatrice’s laugh was choked and strained, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “How long will you stay?”

“We’ll ride out in the morning.” Clark said.

“You’ll write?” She asked, giving Howard a kiss on the cheek before turning to give Clark the same treatment.

“We will.” Clark said.