Ralph Compton - Bullet for a Bad Man

‘‘I am not sure I can. Shooting you would be like shooting my own heart.’’

‘‘That is a hell of a thing for you to say. If you care for me you will put a window in my skull.’’

‘‘I will not make a promise I don’t know if I can keep.’’ Boone was straining his eyes to pierce the gloom, to no avail.

‘‘I would put a bullet in your brain if you were the woman and I was the man.’’

‘‘That doesn’t make me feel any better,’’ Boone said. ‘‘But I will try to kill you if there is no other way.’’

‘‘That is all I ask. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’’

No sooner were the words out of Sassy’s mouth than the palomino whinnied and shied.

The next moment a shape swiftly sprang out of the night at them.

Devil’s Brood

Sassy started to scream and clamped a hand over her mouth.

In a twinkling Boone had his Colt out and level. He came within a whisker of firing.

Then the young buck went bounding past, and with a startled snort it was gone.

‘‘I’ll be!’’ Sassy declared.

‘‘Just a deer.’’ Boone let out a long breath and slid the Colt into his holster. ‘‘He must have happened by and we spooked him.’’ Deer did most of their foraging at night, making it harder for predators to prey on them.

‘‘He sure spooked me,’’ Sassy said, and laughed. ‘‘I thought we were goners.’’

Boone spread his arms and held her, her face pressed to his shoulder. He breathed deep of her scent.

‘‘What now?’’ Sassy asked.

‘‘We get you a horse.’’

‘‘But the only horses to be had for a hundred miles are those with Old Man Radler.’’

‘‘Then that is where we will get it.’’

Sassy pulled back, her face a mask of anxiety. ‘‘Can’t we wait and get one somewhere else? So what if we have to ride double for a few days?’’

‘‘If that face you saw was really an Apache, we stand a better chance if we both have mounts.’’

Sassy nuzzled his neck with her warm lips and said softly, ‘‘I am a burden, aren’t I?’’

‘‘We do what we have to, and right now that means getting you a horse, pronto.’’

Boone reined back the way they came. Sassy had one arm around his waist and was holding her Spencer between them, her head on his shoulder blade.

‘‘It doesn’t seem real at times,’’ she said.

‘‘What doesn’t?’’

‘‘This. Us. Together.’’ Sassy sighed. ‘‘I dreamed of the day when a man would come along and claim my heart, and now that my dream has come true, I am so happy I could bust.’’

‘‘I will do the best I can by you. I want you to know that.’’

‘‘I do,’’ Sassy said. ‘‘You’re not no-account like my pa.’’ She sighed again. ‘‘I will miss him but not that much, and less as times goes by.’’

‘‘It is a shame I can’t take you to meet my folks. They would like you a whole lot.’’

‘‘Why can’t you?’’

‘‘I told you about Ranson, about what I did. I imagine my pa is sorry he ever sired me. And Ma must have cried until she did not have tears left to shed.’’

‘‘We could stop long enough for you to say your good-byes.’’

‘‘And put them through more pain?’’ Boone shook his head. ‘‘No, thanks. I would spare them that.’’

They lapsed into silence. The dull clomp of the palomino’s hooves were punctuated now and again by the yip of coyotes. Once a mountain lion screeched, far off, the cry so much like a woman’s, it brought goose bumps to Boone’s flesh.

The North Star made it easy for him to tell direction. He had to watch for boulders and other obstacles and twice reined aside just in time. Every now and then he rose in the stirrups and scoured the sea of dark for a pinpoint of light.

They had been riding for half an hour when Sassy said in a small voice, ‘‘Boone?’’

‘‘I am right here.’’

‘‘Thank you.’’

‘‘For what?’’

‘‘For saving me.’’

‘‘Shucks. I did not want Radler to get his hands on you. He claimed to want to protect you, but he is as trustworthy as a rabid wolf.’’

‘‘No, not that,’’ Sassy said. ‘‘I want to thank you for saving me from the emptiness. I was so lonely.’’

‘‘You had your critters and your woods and your secret place in the cliff,’’ Boone reminded her.

‘‘Critters can’t hug like you do, and woods do not make me laugh, and those Indian ruins only made me lonelier. So thank you.’’

‘‘I am the one who should do the thanking. I have drifted from the straight and narrow, as my ma calls it, and might have gone completely bad if you had not come along when you did. You brought me out of myself. You reminded me there is more to life than feeling sorry for oneself.’’

‘‘We were meant to be. God brought us together at just the right time. Maybe it is him we should thank.’’

A sound off in the dark caused Boone to draw rein. ‘‘Did you hear that? It was a hoof on rock.’’

‘‘Apaches,’’ Sissy whispered, her body tensing against his. ‘‘If they have heard us we are in for it.’’

The sound was repeated, and multiplied. Horses were coming toward them from several directions. Boone placed his hand on his Colt and was about to jab his spurs when a raspy voice called out.

‘‘Lightning? Is that you?’’

‘‘Oh God!’’ Sassy whispered. ‘‘Old Man Radler.’’ Skelman’s voice came from their right. ‘‘It is him. He has the girl.’’ Seconds later he materialized at their side. ‘‘We have been looking all over for you.’’

Old Man Radler, Drub and Wagner converged, the former saying, ‘‘It is good to see you safe, girl. You pulled a damn fool stunt, following us like you did.’’

‘‘What the hell happened?’’ Wagner asked Boone. ‘‘Where did you get to?’’

‘‘We hollered and hollered,’’ Drub said. ‘‘But you didn’t answer.’’

‘‘An Apache got her,’’ Boone lied. ‘‘He was on foot and I chased after him, but Lordy, could he run!’’

Sassy’s fingers tightened on his arm in a reassuring squeeze.

Old Man Radler grunted. ‘‘They say an Apache buck can go sixty miles in a day and not tire. I don’t know as they can, but they sure as hell can outlast a white man.’’

‘‘They aren’t human,’’ Wagner remarked.

‘‘I finally got close to him,’’ Boone said, continuing his lie, ‘‘and he dropped Sassy and ran.’’

‘‘They will do that when there is a chance they will take a bullet,’’ Old Man Radler said.

‘‘They are yellow,’’ Wagner declared. ‘‘They only attack when they have an advantage.’’

‘‘I can see my sons aren’t the only idiots in my gang. That isn’t yellow. That is smart. Apaches are as brave as you or me and maybe more so in your case.’’

‘‘Here, now,’’ Wagner said.

Drub kneed his horse in close to the palomino and reached over to touch Sassy’s shoulder. ‘‘I am glad you are all right. I was scared for you.’’ He looked at Boone coldly.

‘‘Is something the matter?’’ Sassy asked.

‘‘No,’’ Drub said, but he was a terrible liar.

‘‘Enough of this jawing,’’ Old Man Radler said. ‘‘I want to get some sleep tonight and we have a ways to go.’’ He reined about and the rest of them brought their mounts into step on either side.

Sassy gave Boone another squeeze, then said to the old curmudgeon, ‘‘It was kind of you to come after me. You have always treated me decent and for that I am grateful.’’

‘‘Why wouldn’t I?’’ Old Man Radler rejoined. ‘‘I had a wife once. She bore me my two boys and never gave me much cause to complain. Then she went and died on me. Consumption, the doc said. At the last I held her hand for three days straight while she slowly wasted away. It was an awful way to go.’’