Linda Ford - Dakota Cowboy

He scooped up his rifle and lounged with deceptive casualness. In his experience only trouble came riding into camp before dawn.

“Wade, are you there?”

His heart skidded sideways and crashed into his ribs. “Lucy, is that you?” What was she doing out before the sky had begun to lighten?

She rode up to him.

He grabbed the bridle of her horse, all the time alert for signs of danger. When he saw none, he relaxed. “You’ve decided to come with me?” he teased. She’d made it abundantly clear wild horses and six mad bulls wouldn’t drag her to the ranch.

“On one condition.”

He wished he could see her better. Assure himself she was teasing because, plain and simple, he didn’t believe she meant it.

“Yeah.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Wade, I mean it. I’ll go with you to see my father if you agree—” She glanced over her shoulder. Roy peeked around her arm. “You agree to take Roy.”

Wade wasn’t much for fancy talk. Sometimes he had to search for words. It came from spending most of his waking hours with nothing but cows, horses and equally untalkative cowboys. But for the life of him he couldn’t find even one word in his surprised brain. Not one word to say to this gal who had changed her mind faster than Dakota weather.

“Wade, we’ll go with you. But we have to hurry.” Her urgent tone caused his brain to burst into a gallop.

“What’s the rush?” He could feel the nervous tension vibrating from the pair. No way was he taking a step anywhere until he knew what was going on.

“I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

No mistaking the way her voice quivered. He guessed it was fear or nervousness. “What’s the hurry?”

“Smitty is after us.”

He knew about Smitty. Anyone who had been in town more than a few hours knew of the man. Either by word of mouth or by encounter. Wade had seen him in the store a couple of days ago. Had been forced to witness the man blatantly threaten a farmer over some disputed fence line. From what Wade gathered, the farmer was within his rights but it was plain as dirt on a white shirt that Smitty didn’t care about what was right. And certainly didn’t intend to let it interfere with his plans.

After the pair left, he asked the store owner why the sheriff didn’t do something. The man said, “He’d like to, but so far no one will testify against Smitty.”

“He’s gonna kill us.” Roy’s voice shook. All the kid’s bravado had vanished.

Roy’s fear sent Wade’s nerves into full alert. “Why?”

“Smitty killed a man in cold blood. We saw him. Smitty doesn’t want any witnesses.” Lucy’s voice trembled so bad he wanted to scoop her from the horse and hold her tight, assure her he’d keep her safe.

“You going to help or just stare at the horse’s nostrils?”

Wade laughed. “Lucy gal, you sure do have a sweet way of asking.”

“Phweet. If I’d known you expected sweet talk I’d give it, but right now I think urgency is a little more important.”

“Why don’t we just to tell the sheriff the truth?”

“You don’t know Smitty.” Her voice was tight, signaling her fear. “He’ll convince everyone the shooting was self-defense. He’ll already have half a dozen men as nasty as him watching for us. We wouldn’t make it two steps in town before he or one of them would grab us. We wouldn’t get anywhere near the sheriff.” Her words grew more urgent. “The best thing we can do is go somewhere and hide.”

“I expect you’re right. Good thing I was ready to go.” He settled the saddle on Two Bit, stuck his rifle in the boot and swung up. He paused to have a good look at the other horse in the gray light. “Where did you find that old nag?”

“She’s a good old horse.” Roy sounded a whole lot more like himself as he defended the bag of bones.

“Emphasis on old,” Wade muttered. “Come on, let’s make tracks.” The “good old horse” would have found Roy a load let alone the pair of them. She probably found her skin almost more’n she could handle. He edged up beside Lucy. “Roy, get on behind me. We’ll have to take turns carrying you.”

Just a few hours ago Wade had asked God to melt Lucy’s stubbornness. Little did he expect things to turn around so suddenly or in such an alarming fashion. He scanned the horizon, saw no sign of pursuit and prayed for God’s protection. He briefly considered his options. Seems he had only two—head for the train, or ride west. Riding left them exposed and vulnerable. He could likely outride and outmaneuver any pursuers, but doubted Lucy or Roy were up to the challenge. Certainly not on the old nag they had brought along.

On the other hand, he’d picked a campsite on the far side of town away from the rail station. Didn’t make any sense to ride through town.

He made up his mind. They’d head for the railway but not through town.

“Let’s ride.” He urged Two Bit into an easy lope. They rode from the shelter of the trees and headed west. A few minutes later, he glanced over his shoulder to check Lucy’s progress.

She kicked at the old horse’s side and slapped at the animal with the end of the reins. The horse managed what might pass for a jog.

“I can walk faster than that.” Someone had not gotten a good bargain on horseflesh.

He waited for the struggling pair to catch up. Lucy looked about ready to chew a handful of nails for breakfast. “Where did you get that old hay burner?”

The look she shot him made him winch. “Mr. Peterson gave her to Roy.”

He sputtered with surprise then the humor of it hit him and he roared with laughter. Two Bit perked up his ears and danced sideways. Roy clung to his waist. Wade wiped his eyes and continued laughing despite Lucy’s pinched look.

“Did you think we stole her?” she demanded.

Wade managed to choke back his enjoyment of the idea of someone persuading Roy he was doing him a favor though he couldn’t stop it from circling his words as he spoke. “Mr. Peterson saved himself the price of a bullet and left Roy with the responsibility of feeding the old thing. Got to admire a man with such business savvy.” Even free was too much for this sorry piece of horseflesh. He whooped with laughter.

Lucy fixed him with a hard, unyielding frown.

Wade forced himself to put on a sober face, though inside he continued to chortle. “If we hurry we might make the rail station by nightfall.” He reined toward his destination, knowing now he could hope for nothing more than a plodding walk.

The pair of them seemed to think a walking glue factory was a wondrous gift. It amazed him. Delighted him. Filled him with admiration for the kind of spunk his Lucy showed.

His? Was his brain addled from surprise and too much laughter? She wasn’t his. Never would be. She had only agreed to accompany him because she needed to get away from Smitty. Would she stay on the ranch any longer than it took to say “Hello, Father. Goodbye, Father.?” Then reality hit him square between his eyes. Lucy couldn’t ride away after a hurried goodbye. Not until Smitty had been locked behind bars. The idea of that man posing a threat to Lucy or Roy made his fists coil.

They inched across the flat prairie. Although he took a circuitous route that kept him away from town, he felt as exposed as the sun. His skin itched at how easy it would be for someone to spot them and ride after them. Running from pursuers was impossible. But getting back to Dry Creek and catching the train was equally impossible. By the time they got there, Smitty would have every way in and out of town guarded by one of his cohorts.

He pulled up. “This ain’t going to work.”

Lucy’s shoulders drew back. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”