Charles West - Day of the Wolf

“I ain’t stayin’,” Wolf forced out between clenched teeth, trying to bite off the pain. His instinct told him that he would be an easy kill if he remained in town. He had no idea what the brothers looked like, and he knew he would stand a better chance if the meeting with them was on his terms, in the mountains where he was at home. Although his wound was serious and painful, he felt that it was not a mortal wound. However, he feared it would hamper his ability to fight, so his one thought was to escape this town and find a place to heal before the reckoning. He tried to rise, but found he was already weakening. Rose and Lorena grabbed him and pulled him up to his feet. “Help me get on my horse,” Wolf said. “I’ll be better off away from here.”

“He’s right,” Marvin said. “He knows what I’m sayin’ is the best thing for him. He’ll be a lot better off outta here. That fellow’s brothers will be lookin’ for him for sure.”

“I think they were already lookin’ for him,” one of the spectators remarked as he stepped back to give them room to pass. “There was a feller at the poker table last night that said him and his two brothers were in town lookin’ for somebody. I asked him if it was family he was lookin’ for, and he just laughed and said, ‘Not hardly.’ ”

Rose and Lorena exchanged concerned glances. “Why would someone be looking for you?” Rose asked as she struggled to keep Wolf upright when they got him out the door.

“I don’t know,” Wolf replied painfully. “Just get me on my horse.”

“They’re right,” Lorena suddenly decided, now that she had more of the story. “He’s got a better chance out where he knows what to do. Let’s set him down in this chair while we tie up that wound.” Turning to Marvin then, she said, “Get me some of those bar towels you’ve got under the counter—clean ones. Don’t give me any you’ve cleaned the bar with, and bring me a bottle of whiskey.”

“Those towels cost me money,” Marvin complained. “Whiskey ain’t free, either. Who’s gonna pay for all that?”

Lorena paused long enough to send him a scathing glare. “I know you’re fixin’ to volunteer,” she said sarcastically, “but I’ll pay for the damn stuff. Now go get it.” He went without further complaint while Lorena resumed her control of the situation. She pulled her skirt up again and finished ripping the skirt of her petticoat all the way around. Starting a tear with her teeth, she then ripped the skirt into strips to tie the bandage on.

Worried about the time wasted, Billie Jean spoke just above a whisper to Lorena. “He needs to be outta here before somebody gets the word to that bastard’s brothers.”

“I know it,” Lorena replied, “but we need to slap a bandage on that wound that’ll stop some of that bleedin’.”

Billie Jean understood what Lorena was saying, but she didn’t have much confidence in Wolf’s chances. “He ain’t gonna make it on his own. I don’t care if he is part wolf.”

“I’m going with him,” Rose announced. “Billie Jean’s right. He needs somebody to take care of him.”

Lorena turned to give the young girl a skeptical stare. “I don’t think you know what you’re takin’ on.”

“I’m going with him,” she repeated.

Both Lorena and Billie Jean looked hard at the girl. It was obvious to both that it was going to be wasted breath to try to talk her out of it. “Well, I reckon you’re old enough to know what you wanna do,” Lorena said. Marvin arrived then with the bar towels and the whiskey. “We’ve got to hurry. If you’re goin’ with Wolf, you’d better run get some more clothes and whatever else you think you’ll need.” She didn’t have to say it twice.

As anxious as he was to escape to the wilds, he knew that he needed the care they could give him at this moment, for he was already fighting to keep his wits about him. Although he kept telling himself that it was just a slug buried deep in his side, he was feeling weaker by the moment, and he knew that flight was his only defense against these strangers who had come to kill him. So he sat quietly while Lorena and Billie Jean removed his shirt, only flinching slightly when a generous slug of whiskey was poured over the wound. By the time they had tied the bandage around him, Rose was back with a cloth bag that held her belongings. She had changed to the trousers and coat she had worn during their journey from Fort Laramie. He would have protested against her accompanying him, but he didn’t feel like making the argument. The bandaging done, they got him on his feet again and walked him out to his horses.

“Try not to pull on that bandage too much,” Lorena advised as she and Billie Jean helped him get a foot up in the stirrup. The bay horse, suspicious of the party of people approaching him, sidestepped away from them at first, but settled down when Wolf scolded him. “Ready?” Lorena asked when he got a hand on the saddle horn. He said he was, so all three women got up under his behind and pushed him up in the saddle. “You all right?” Lorena asked. “You gonna be able to stay on?” He nodded. “Well, move your foot outta the stirrup for a minute till we get Rose up behind you.” The slender young girl was a much easier task for the two buxom women, and Rose was settled up behind the saddle. She put her arms around him. Lorena placed her hand on Rose’s leg. “Honey, I know you’re doin’ what you think you should. You just be careful. You hear?”

“I will, Lorena. I’ll take care of him. Then I’ll come back when he gets well—unless he wants me to stay with him.”

The two prostitutes stepped back up on the short strip of boardwalk to watch the two young people ride away toward the lower end of the gulch. “I hope to hell she’s doing the right thing,” Billie Jean said. “I’m afraid there ain’t nothing but a world of hurt with a man like that, living like he lives—like a damn Injun.” She turned to face Lorena. “And what if he don’t recover from that wound? What if he dies and leaves Rose out in some godforsaken wilderness?”

“That would be bad, all right,” Lorena replied. “But I’ve got a lot of faith in that man, and I think he’ll do whatever he can to protect Rose.” She paused a moment. “As long as they can stay hid long enough for him to get well.”

They remained there on the stoop, watching until the two horses and their riders disappeared in the growing darkness before returning to the noisy saloon to find Marvin spreading sawdust over the several puddles of blood on the floor. “It wouldn’t hurt you to help clean up the mess your friend made,” he said.

“It wasn’t our friend that put that blood all over the floor,” Billie Jean responded. “It was that fellow lying back there in the corner. Talk to him.”

“Where the hell is Boyd?” Buck, obviously annoyed, asked Skinner. “I told him we were gonna head up the gulch this afternoon.”

“The Star of Deadwood,” Skinner announced grandly. “He’s got an eye for that young little whore there, and you know how the women can work Brother Boyd for every cent he’s got.”

“That saloon’s way down at the bottom of the gulch,” Buck complained. “He’d better be on his way back here right now, ’cause I ain’t plannin’ on waitin’ around here while he gets his tater cooked.”

Skinner laughed. “That mighta been ol’ Boyd shootin’ up the place,” he said, referring to the shots they had heard from that direction. “That gal mighta been busy, and you know how irritated Boyd gets if he don’t get his way.”

“I oughta bust a limb across his behind,” Buck said. They had searched every store and saloon on that end of Deadwood, with no sign of the man called Wolf, and Buck was ready to move on up the gulch to the next little settlement. Their search had gone on for too long and had reached a point where Boyd was beginning to lose interest in the chase. With every passing day that yielded no progress in their hunt, Buck grew increasingly anxious to satisfy his desire for a kill, and he had no patience for Boyd’s dallying. He stewed over the decision to wait for his brother or go on and leave it to Boyd to catch up as best he could. Finally he decided. “Let’s go on back there and get him. The damn fool might not ever find us if we don’t.”