Ralph Compton - Down on Gila River

Clem hesitated a moment, then turned and ran.

* * *

Santos watched him go, then said, “Put your hands down, all of you.”

He hadn’t been looking at James, but now he said, “Kiowa, we have met before, I think.”

The Indian bowed his head, like a commoner in the presence of royalty. “Yes, Santos, we have. In another place and time.”

“We hunted Victorio for the army, did we not?” Santos said.

“Yes, we two and Dahteste, the beautiful one.”

“I remember Dahteste well. She was more lovely than any man can describe, yet she was a great scout and a mighty warrior.”

“And her spirit was strong,” the Kiowa said.

“It was told that Victorio took his own life at Tres Castillos,” Santos said. “Is what I heard true?”

James nodded. “That story was told. But the Mexicans say he was killed by hunting wolves, a male and a female.”

“Why do you tell me this?”

The Kiowa pointed to the body hanging on the door. “ Yee naaldlooshii.”

“Your knowledge of the Navajo tongue does you credit, Kiowa. But his throat was torn out by a true wolf,” Santos said. He smiled slightly. “I found his body and brought him home.”

“Then it must be as you say, Santos,” James said, bowing his head again. “You are a great warrior and speaker of the truth.”

Hannah, Lori in her arms, stepped toward the breed. “Listen, Mr. Santos or whatever your name is, we have a sick woman here,” she said.

“Yes, a wound on her left shoulder that weeps yellow tears,” Santos said. His black eyes burned through the moon-gauzed night. “You are the woman of the sheriff, Vic Moseley.”

“I’ll never be his woman.”

“That is well, because he does not want you back. He says dollars are more important than your caresses.”

“Then what will you do? Kill me?”

Santos shook his head. “Why should I kill you? You mean nothing to me.”

He looked at Sam. “I came for you.”

“Dan Wells sent you after me, huh?”

“You killed his brother.”

“In a fair fight. He was trying to kill me.”

“Dan and Jake want you alive.”

“Santos, the only way you’re taking me back is over my saddle,” Sam said.

“That can be arranged.”

The breed spun his Remingtons and both revolvers thudded into their shoulder holsters. “Help me with the wounded woman,” he said. “The killing can come later.”

Chapter 31

Skate Santos pointed to a grassy spot near a stand of pine.

“We will lay you down there,” he told Lorelei. “The cabin stinks and crawls with the souls of dead wolves.”

Lorelei was fevered and too weak to protest. Sam helped her onto the ground and gently laid her on her back.

Santos knelt beside the woman and examined the wound. “Who did this to you?” he said. “Who fired the bullet?”

“A low-down snake,” Lorelei said.

“His name?” Santos said.

“Matt Laurie.”

The breed said, “Does he live?”

“No. I killed him.”

Santos nodded. “You did well, woman. You chose the warrior’s way, and that is good.” He grunted. “The ball was removed by a butcher.”

“The Injun did it,” Lorelei said.

“Pah, the Kiowa know nothing but horse-stealing and keeping their wives away from other women.”

“Why are you helping me?” Lorelei said.

“Because the night is long and I have nothing else to do.”

“Big boy, men have told me that before,” Lorelei said.

Santos looked at Hannah. “How are your eyes in the night, woman?”

“I can see well in the dark.”

“Good. Then I will tell you the plants I need. You will take the child with you. It is good for her to learn such things.”

“But . . . but the wolf—” Hannah began.

“He is gone. His hunting is done for this night,” Santos said.

* * *

After Hannah left, Santos beckoned the Kiowa closer.

“I will need some water from the well,” he said. “I will try to undo the damage you have done.”

James said nothing. He bowed his head, then turned on his heel and stepped toward the cabin.

Sam knelt beside Lorelei. “How are you feeling, ma’am?” he said.

“Like hell, Pops. How are you?”

“I allow that I’ve been better.”

“We’re in a jam, ain’t we?” Lorelei said.

“Seems like.”

“Yeah. It seems like.”

High-level winds scudded frail clouds across the face of the moon, tarnishing their edges like old silver. The air smelled of wildness, of cedar trees and hard-rock mountains, of hidden streams green with fern and moss. And over all hung the smell of burned gunpowder, like the aftermath of an Independence Day street party.

Coyotes yipped in the distance and Santos drew his lips back from his teeth. “Curs,” he snarled. “Cowardly, strutting dogs of the night.”

Sam cocked his head, listening. After a while he said, “Well, they don’t bother me none.”

“Then you know nothing,” Santos said.

* * *

When Hannah returned with an armful of plants and herbs, Santos examined them closely, then told her she’d done well.

He poured a little water in an earthenware bowl the Kiowa had brought him and then added the plants he needed. Some he tore into small pieces; others he pounded with the pommel of his knife until they formed a paste.

“This will heal your wound and help leave the scar smaller,” he told Lorelei. “It also dulls pain and cools fever.”

The woman raised her head and sniffed the bowl.

“Smells all right,” Lorelei said. “Slap it on me, Doc.”

“Drink the liquid first,” Santos said. He held the bowl to Lorelei’s lips.

“You,” Santos said to Hannah, “make me a bandage.” He handed her his knife. “Cut a strip from your undergarment.”

After Lorelei drank the liquid and made a face, Santos spread the herb poultice on her wound.

“You got gentle hands, Doc,” she said.

The man nodded. “The warrior should also be a healer. It is the ancient way of the Apache.”

He bound the poultice in place with the strip from Hannah’s petticoat, then said to her, “I will be gone at first light. You must gather plants and do this until the wound no longer is red with anger.” He looked into Hannah’s eyes. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

The woman nodded.

“Good. Then all is well.” To Lorelei he said, “Sleep now and gather strength.”

“Whatever you say, Doc,” she said, already drowsy. She smiled. “You’re the first man who ever laid me on my back and didn’t climb on top of me.” Lorelei giggled. “It’s funny.”

“The potion is taking effect and her mind wanders into darkness,” he said to Hannah. “She will sleep now and her spirit animal will come to her and help her heal.”

He rose to his feet and raised his nose to the wind, his hair blowing across his face. “I must go get my horse. The wolves will come back tonight when the moon rises higher.”

Santos gave Sam a hard look. “Don’t run. I’ll find you, and if I’m angry it might go badly for you.”

“Now, that ain’t likely, is it?” Sam said, riled. “I ain’t going anywhere.”

“Afraid of wolves?” Santos said.

“No, just one,” Sam said.

The breed laughed. “You are a much wiser man than I thought.”

Chapter 32

Skate Santos rode back to the cabin and ordered the Kiowa to saddle a mount for Sam and to release the Cappses’ horses from the barn.

The moon climbed higher in the sky, and the shadows shaded deep as Santos dragged the bodies of Ma Capps and her two sons into the cabin.

He found a can of kerosene and poured it over everything that would burn, and then threw an oil lamp against the wooden table. Immediately the table burst into flame and the fire quickly spread.