In the deep shade of the canyon bottom, the coyote’s head shot up from her meal. Humans were coming. How noisy they were. She could hear their voices high on the rock wall, and little avalanches of stones preceded their arrival. She ripped off a last chunk of meat to bring to her pups and bolted unseen up the steep slope.

For nineteen long days they had searched for the missing stage coach. Weary, haunted, dusty and worn, a string of men, led by Sheriff Roy Coffee, slowly picked their way towards the horror on the canyon bottom. There were many reasons for a stage to divert from the main route - Indians, flooded rivers, muddy roads - but why the driver had chosen this rough, remote mountain trail was a mystery that had yet to be solved. They had passed this way many times before, seeing nothing down in the narrow gorge, until the unspeakable smell coming up from the depth had finally alerted them.

Standing on a ledge, Roy got the first glimpse of the tangled wreckage strewn with bodies of horses and men. He gasped at the sight and turned. “Ben, you better stay here”, he said to the man behind him.

“My boy is down there.” The man was wild-eyed and near collapse, but his voice was firm.

“Ben, it won’t be pretty. They’ve been in the heat for almost three weeks, and there are scavenger animals…” Roy shook his head sadly, knowing it was no use. This was supposed to have been Adam’s homecoming after four years in college. Instead, his family had lived through nineteen nightmarish days, and now Ben was about to face the very worst of it. Roy feared it would destroy him.

There wasn’t much they could do. Men went about quietly, their bandannas pressed to their faces, saying murmured prayers and picking through the wreckage. Doc Martin had taken Ben to look at the bodies behind the mangled coach, and when they returned, the tall gray haired rancher sank to the ground and hugged his knees. He looked like a small child.

“I haven’t seen my boy in four years”, he said shakily. “He would have filled out a bit, don’t you think, Roy? Maybe grown an inch?”

Roy looked helplessly at Doc Martin. “What’s he saying, Doc?”

The Doc shook his head . “There’s one back there. Tall and dark haired. But the heat…he’s badly bloated. And he’s been lying face up, and the crows and the coyotes…” he took a shuddering breath, ”we couldn’t recognize him. Not with any certainty.”

“Sheriff.” One of the deputies appeared, handing Roy a brown canvas bag. “We found the mail bag in the coach.”

“Thanks, Jeb”, Roy said tiredly. He reached into the bag, pulled out a handful of letters and began to finger through them. “Jeb, I want you to get these delivered as soon as…Ben!” he suddenly exclaimed. “There’s one for you. It’s from… oh God, you better read it right away. Ben! Ben, do you hear me?”

Ben sat slumped on the ground, staring at but not seeing the dust between his feet. For a fleeting moment, he saw his oldest son’s face, smiling a sweet dimpled good-bye at him from the window of the stage coach. “Adam”, Ben breathed, and smiled at his boots. He desperately tried to hold on to the image, but it was pushed aside by the ruined face of a bloated corpse. Ben moaned in pain and held his head in his hands.

Roy reached down and very gently shook his friend’s shoulder, as if afraid to break him. “Ben, I think you wanna read this letter.”

Ben looked up at him uncomprehending, and then wearily pushed himself to his feet and took the letter. He stared at the firm, controlled handwriting on the envelope. Gasping, he tore it open with shaking fingers and read. He began to tremble.

 “What is it?” Roy asked gently and touched him on the arm. When he received no answer, he took the letter from Ben’s limp hands and read:

 
Dear Pa, Hoss and Joe,

I know you expect me back in early June, but an opportunity has presented itself that I can’t turn down: A classmate has invited me on a trading voyage on his father’s schooner. We’ll sail south along the coast and back. The trip will be short, only about three weeks, but long enough for me to get my ‘sea legs’. I only hope this letter reaches you before my planned arrival, as I would hate for you to worry.

Pa, you know how much I’ve always wanted to go to sea, and I know you’ll understand and won’t mind to wait for me a little bit longer.

 I’ll see you in July,

Yours affectionately,
Adam

Roy looked up excitedly. “Ben, this is good news.” And when Ben just stared at him, he took him by the shoulders and shook him and almost shouted,  “Do you understand that this is good news?”

“God, Roy!” Ben wailed and collapsed into Roy’s embrace. In sudden fury, he pounded his fists on his friend’s chest and cried “That foolish, foolish boy!” And then he lifted his face to the air and all the grief and fear of the last nineteen days went out of him in one great anguished howl that echoed up the canyon walls.

High up in her niche, a small gray shadow leapt uneasily to her feet. Humans had such eerie voices. At times, they sounded almost like coyotes. She turned and nervously checked her pups, and then lay down again, her fine ears zoomed towards the abyss below.

When the long shadows of evening had swallowed up the canyon floor, Roy turned to his men. “We’re all exhausted, folks. Let’s cover these bodies up and go home and get some sleep. We’ll come back at first light with some caskets and get these poor devils out of here.” And turning to Ben, who looked more haggard than Roy had ever seen him, he said “I’ll see you home, old friend. All will be well now.”

Halfway up the slope, Ben suddenly stopped, and with an expression of deep sorrow he looked back into the shadows, towards the place where the dark-haired man lay.

Roy put an arm around him. “Somebody else, Ben. Somebody else’s son.” Supporting each other, the two slowly made their way back up to the light.

From the canyon rim, she watched warily while her pups tugged at her teats. The humans were leaving, as noisily as they had come. The night was hers. She yawned, then nudged her brood back into the hollow that was their hiding place.
Sitting on her haunches on the canyon wall, she tested the air and took inventory. There was the faint smell of ripe cactus fruit, but with it came the memory of painful thorns. A small rustle in the dust nearby - probably a lizard hiding under a rock for the night.  She cocked an ear towards it, then forgot about it.
Once again, the best promise of food came on the warm air that wafted up from the canyon floor. She stood and stretched lazily, and then began her swift, surefooted descent towards her evening meal.