Ralph Compton - Down on Gila River

Wells was startled. “Five riders? Five guns?”

“No,” Santos said. “Two men, two women, and a child.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Jake said.

“In the arroyo I searched, there are tracks of four people and a child. The tracks go south. The women ride, the men walk. One man wears boots, the other moccasins.”

“An Apache,” Jake said.

Santos said. “No, Kiowa. Only Kiowa sole their moccasins with hard leather, and those tracks are plain to see in mud.”

Vic Moseley had been silent all morning. Now he kneed his horse closer to Dan Wells and said, “Dan, the army payroll leaves Silver City tomorrow at sunup.”

Wells nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been studying and worrying on it for a spell.”

“The army will have its usual driver and four armed guards,” Moseley said. “But the wagon will be met by a posse from Lost Mine, on account of how Mayor Meriwether heard a rumor that outlaws might attack the shipment.”

“Well, fancy that,” Wells said, smiling. “Where does the posse link up with the pay wagon?”

“On Bear Creek at Preacher’s Point. The posse will take it in the rest of the way.”

“How many from Lost Mine?”

“Meriwether told me he’d figured on eight, but I don’t know the exact number. There’ll be enough, I reckon.”

“Then we need to hit the wagon before it reaches the creek.”

“I know, but we can’t do that if we’re chasing all over after your brother’s killer,” Moseley said. “It’s time to make a decision, Dan.”

Santos had been listening and now he said, “I will go alone and bring back the man called Sam.” He looked hard at Dan Wells. “For a share of the army gold.”

Wells thought about that, then said, “What do you reckon, Jake?”

“I want the varmint alive,” Jake said.

“He’ll be alive enough to enjoy many hours of torture,” Santos said.

“He’s a sly one, Santos,” Moseley said. “Smart as a bunkhouse rat. And it sounds like he’s got my woman and her kid with him.”

The breed smiled. “He is not clever, lawman. He leaves a trail a child could follow. No, like all men, he got old too soon and wise too late. Dan, I will bring him to your place on the Gila, with Moseley’s woman.”

“Skate, if the woman is with the murderer, he must’ve killed Matt Laurie,” Dan Wells said. “Laurie was no bargain, so this Sam feller shapes up to be mighty slick with the iron.”

“I will bring him, never fear,” the breed said.

Jake glanced at the sky, as though the answer to Santos’s proposition about a share of the army gold was written in the clouds. A slow-thinking man, he finally gave up and said to his brother, “What do you reckon, Dan?”

Dan Wells made up his mind quickly. “Go get him, Skate, and for Pete’s sake keep him alive.” He looked at his brother. “I set store by Jeptha, but I ain’t letting a thirty-thousand-dollar army payroll slip away from me.”

“And the sheriff’s woman?” Santos said.

Wells looked as if he felt a sudden pain. “Hell, I don’t give a darn about her.”

“Moseley?” Santos said. “How much will you pay to get your woman back?”

“Nothing. She’s maybe worth a bunch of flowers if it gets her into the sack, but she ain’t worth any amount of American cash money.”

“Is the child hers?”

“Yeah.”

“Will I bring back the child?”

“Hell no. Some other man’s get means nothing to me.”

Santos dismissed Moseley with his eyes and then turned to Dan Wells. “How big will my share be for bringing in your brother’s killer?”

“Whatever you think is fair, Skate,” Wells said, his face empty of guile. “You’ll find that I’m a reasonable man when it comes to share and share alike.”

“Five thousand dollars,” Santos said.

Dan Wells nodded and ignored the barbed look his brother threw at him.

“Seems fair to me, Skate. Five thousand it is.” He extended his hand. “Done and done.”

The breed ignored the proffered hand and swung his horse around. “I will bring back the murderer called Sam in three days. As for the others with him, whether they live or die will depend on my mood and theirs.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t care about the rest,” Jake said. “Get that killer and bring him to me. I want him to know he’s gonna be a-dying for a long, long time.”

* * *

After Santos rode into the shimmering distance of the late morning, Moseley rounded angrily on Dan Wells.

“You really going to pay that breed five thousand in gold?” he said.

Wells’s smile was savage. He looked ready to bite.

“Oh, I’ll pay the snake all right,” he said. “In hot lead.”

Chapter 26

The Kiowa decided that a detour into the raw cliffs and narrow canyons of Hell’s Half Acre would only slow them down and do nothing to shield them from their pursuers. Instead, in the shadow of McClure Mountain, they crossed Bear Creek and headed due south into the high timber country. They slid through thick piñon and juniper, then into forested areas of mixed conifers and aspens that broke into grassy hillsides and meadows. The air smelled like newly sawn pine, and wildflowers added random fragrances so fragile and fleeting they left no memory behind.

The land drowsed in the heat, still and unmoving, like a gigantic landscape painted in oil by the brush of God.

Fortunately, the swelling in the Kiowa’s ankle had gone down and he was able to hobble along fairly well.

Lorelei was no longer cussing and complaining. She had grown silent, her face as white as polished bone, and she stared straight ahead with the unseeing eyes of a marble statue.

“Sam,” Hannah said, tearing her eyes from the woman’s face. There was a world of alarm in that single word.

Fighting a losing battle with his aching feet and throbbing side, Sam had been lost in his own trudging misery. He looked at Hannah and his expression asked an irritable question.

“Lorelei is sick,” the woman said. “I think she’s very sick.”

Sam took the reins of Lorelei’s pony and halted the animal.

“Woman is not real sick,” the Kiowa said, stepping beside him. “But she need rest pretty bad.”

Sam felt a spike of anxiety. Just one look at Lorelei and it was pretty obvious that the woman was all used up.

But how close were Dan Wells and Moseley?

As though reading his mind, Hannah said, “We must stop, Sam.”

Sam voiced his fears. “Dan Wells could be right behind us.”

“I know,” Hannah said. “But it doesn’t alter the fact that Lorelei still hasn’t recovered enough to ride.”

To everyone’s surprise, Lorelei stirred in the saddle. In a paper-thin voice she said, “Go on without me, schoolma’am. All I’ll do is slow you down.”

“We’re leaving nobody behind,” Sam said. “We started this together and by gosh we’ll end it that way.” He looked at the Kiowa. “Can you build a travois?”

“When I was a boy I saw my mother do it,” James said. His eyes moved to a hillside. “Up there beyond the aspen I can find what I need, I think.”

“Then get it done,” Sam said. “We don’t have much time.”

“There’s a rope on Miz Hannah’s saddle for bindings, but rawhide would be better,” the Kiowa said.

“Well, we don’t have any o’ that,” Sam said. “Now git goin’.”

* * *

After the Kiowa left, Hannah, aware of Sam’s poor eyesight, led the way into the meager shade of some blackjack pine.

She and Sam helped Lorelei from her horse and laid her on her back.

“How are you feeling?” Hannah asked.

“Like hell,” Lorelei said. “That Kiowa mangled me.”

“Just lie still,” Hannah said. “He’s building a travois.” She smiled. “You can ride to Silver City in style.”