Chapter 3

Skunk sat back against the tree, looking down at the camp. Rocky had gradually gotten better to the point he could finally ride again. They’d ridden up to the top of the knoll and the whole encampment was spread out below them. It was a pretty fair-sized village for the time and Rocky thought the people looked like a swarm of bees flitting about looking for honey.

“So, mon ami, how is it you did not perish when your home burned down?”

“I had an escape route. When I put a root cellar in my barn, I ended up digging farther than I expected and ended up under my cabin. I fixed up a little hatch, thinking it would come in handy when I didn’t want to go out into a blizzard to get provisions. I hadn’t used it or thought to tell my wife about it, so she never knew. It saved my life, but it was still a close thing.”

He rolled up his shirtsleeve and showed Skunk the burn scar on his wrist. “I was pretty banged up and had breathed a lot of smoke when I threw the door open and collapsed in the barn. I was in and out, listening to my men cuss and scream as they tried to stop the fire. They found our cook’s body, and it was so badly burned they couldn’t tell who it was, so they thought it was me. It wasn’t until the next day they found me, and two more days until I was up and about.”

Then what did you do?”

“I went huntin’.”

...

It was two weeks before I was in good enough shape to go after them. I decided I didn’t ever want Nancy back. I was gonna kill that bastard Bradshaw, and leave her where I found her.

My crew tried to talk me out of It. “Let her go. No good will come of you chasing her. People like her and her new man usually come to a bad end, anyway. You got other things to think about right now.”

I just looked at Tex and he sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t buy it, but I had to try. When are we leaving?”

“I’ll be going alone. This is between me and him.”

“And I won’t interfere when you find him. I’m just going to trail along and make sure you have a fair shake. You already know he’s enough of a snake not to fight you fair and square.”

Spuds also thought it was a good idea. “Let him go with you, Rocky. It’ll make me sleep better. I’d go myself, but somebody has to run the place while you’re gone.”

I had to agree with them, but I had a different plan. “You need to go on back to your place. I’m going to have my family come out. Their place is about played out and they need a fresh start. I’ll let them run this side of the operation while I’m gone, and maybe they can find a piece of land that suits them.”

“You gonna put your Pa in charge?”

“Not a chance. I love him but he ain’t the best businessman I ever saw. I’m gonna put my mother in charge. He’ll just relay her orders.”

“He gonna let a woman boss him around?”

“He has for thirty-odd years. I don’t see him fighting it now. Besides, my brothers and my sister will be coming with them. Between them all they ought to be able to manage it.”

I’d already written them before all this happened and sent them some money. They were due to arrive in two weeks, but I didn’t know if I’d be back in time. I left everyone a letter outlining what I wanted done. They’d all draw a nice wage and it would give them time to find places of their own. I was sure I’d use my old railroad connections to help them out.

We made inquiries when we got to town. Most recognized Nancy and were surprised to see her with another man. She explained it off as her brother who came to take her back to Georgia for family business. They loaded their horses and bought a ticket for Dodge City. We were on the next train out.

We missed them in Dodge, but some local gamblers remembered them. “The bastard was cheatin’ and it didn’t take us long to figure it out. The only games he could get up were with suckers and fools, and he usually cleaned them out. One man accused him of cheating and went for his gun, but Bradshaw was quicker. That’s when the local law suggested he’d be happier somewhere else. They got their horses and took off south, I think. Of course, they could have just said that to throw people off their trail. I’d check in Weaverville. It’s about forty miles southwest of here. If they went that way they would have probably at least stopped for the night.”

Tex and I were gone the next day and made Weaverville just after dark, ridin’ some pretty wore out horses. They were there for two days while he tried to drum up a high-stakes game, but most of the town and locals were living pretty close to the edge, so it didn’t work out. The barkeep remembered them.

“When she come in, I told them I didn’t allow ladies in the place but he just laughed and said she was no lady. She pretty much sat by herself while he played and didn’t drink anything to speak of. He beat the shit out of a cowpoke who tried to get fresh with her. Broke his arm. After that, folks left her alone. I couldn’t tell you which way they headed, but they were talking about Abilene a lot.”

We rode to the nearest train station and booked passage to Abilene. It was a pretty wide-open town, but the local law kept a good lid on it. Tex met some old friends of his and he sat and talked with them while I walked the town.

It was early on a Saturday night and there were a good many people about. I’d stopped by an emporium right before it closed for some ammunition, and I asked about it. “Big dance tonight. It’s in the opera house right past the hotel. Fine young feller like yourself should go. We got some right pert fillies in these parts.”

Ever since I could afford it, I always dressed as well as I could. Tex and I usually wore range gear, but we each had a suit. Sometimes that impresses people enough to start talking about things they usually wouldn’t share with some rider off the range. I went back by the saloon and told him about the dance.

“Get your suit. Let’s enjoy ourselves a little and I may be able to get some leads on my errant wife and the bastard.”

Our hair was slicked back, our boots shined and we’d beat the wrinkles out of our suits. We couldn’t wear our rigs, but we each had a pistol shoved in the waistband of our pants behind our backs. We got there, paid the admission and I was surprised how packed it was. The dance was a fundraiser for a local church, so I didn’t mind forking over the money. I gave a little extra, which got me some recognition. Admission was fifty cents, and I gave them fifty dollars.

Tex, despite his size, had the confidence of a giant and he turned out to be quite a hit with the ladies. I was talking to the local banker while I watched him twirl the prettiest girl in the room around the floor and having a pretty good time when they walked in. Bradshaw and Nancy. They were dressed to the nines in clothes far above what the average rancher or merchant could afford and were smiling at everyone. I stepped out away from the banker and yelled. “Nancy! You cheating bitch!”

She blushed and covered her face while I turned to Bradshaw. “You bastard! I guess your plan of killin’ me didn’t work out. My plan for you...”

That was all I got out before he twisted his wrist and a derringer popped out. I saw the flame and the powder fly, then everything went black.

Tex told me about it later. “There was a big flap. You hit the ground and everybody includin’ me thought you were dead. Blood was pouring out of your head and you were face down on the floor. The town Doc was at the bar sucking down drinks, and they dragged him away from his bottle. He looked down at you with bloodshot eyes and said ‘the boy’s a goner.’ I’d rolled you over and saw you weren’t dead, but you had a pretty good groove down the side of your head.

“He ain’t dead. Help me to get him to his room and bring the Doc along.”

...

I flicked the hair back on my left side and he saw the groove. “It was a pretty good shot for a derringer. The Sheriff was there and he began questioning people. When he got to Bradshaw, he was a little angry. “Who are you and what’s this about?”

Bradshaw did one of the things he was good at. He lied his ass off. “I think it was a case of mistaken identity, Sheriff. He called me by a name I didn’t recognize and came towards me. I think he had a gun under his coat and I know he had murder in his eyes. What was I supposed to do? Get into a gun battle in a room crowded with people? I only used the derringer because it’s a pretty small caliber and I keep the powder light in case I have to use to try and prevent hurting anyone else.”

“Anybody else see this gun?”

One of the men who carried me out was back. “He had a pistol tucked behind his back but I never saw him go for it.”

He turned back to Bradshaw. “Who are you, mister?”

Bradshaw tried turning on the charm. “I’m Walter Jennings. This is my wife, Lillith. I’m a cattle buyer by trade.”

The hotel clerk was there. “That’s right, Sheriff. They checked in this morning.”

The Sheriff was thinking anybody could write any name down for any number of reasons. The derringer and the way the man dressed had him thinking gambler. The wife was dressed a little flashy, but within the confines of decency.

He looked at the woman. “Is what he said accurate, Nancy?”

She flushed but held to the story. “I think so. He came in here and called us names that aren’t ours. I suspect he was drinking.”

“So your name’s not Nancy?”

Nancy must have become a pretty good liar while she was with Bradshaw. “No sir. It’s Lillith. He called me Nancy. I have no idea why.”

He looked the couple over and made a decision. “Well, I’m going to ask you to stay in town until the other feller wakes up. I’m curious to hear his side of the story.”

“Absolutely. I’ll probably be here a couple of weeks minimum.”

They were gone within the hour.

...

“Did you go after them?” I sighed and Skunk shifted to watch a few braves coming up the hill.

“No. I was on my back for four days. I thought my head was going to fall off it hurt so bad. The Doc saw me a couple of times but he was pretty much useless. He told me that perhaps I needed to rethink what I was doing because it appeared I’d met my match. I told him Bradshaw was uncommon lucky, but all gamblers run out of luck sooner or later. I told him it was just a scratch and I’d be better when I was able and be on their trail again soon.”

“So you went after him as soon as you recovered?”

“No. Being flat on your back gives you time to think. My anger was still there, but it wasn’t as white hot as it had been. I was doin’ nothin’ but wastin’ time chasing them. There was a Pinkerton office in Abilene, so I went to see them, gave them descriptions of both and a fat retainer. They won’t actively look, but they will have their agents in all the towns keep an eye out. The West is a big place, but there just ain’t that many people in it. They’ll pop up eventually. In fact, that’s what I was doing in this territory. Tex and I were on our way down to Mexico to pick up our new herd. I checked with the telegraph office of every town I’m in and the Pinks sent word they’d been seen them in Brattonville. I gave Tex most of the money and told him to go on, secure the herd and I’d see him in a few days. That was three weeks ago. I bet he’s wondering where I am.”

“If you write a letter, I’ll see it gets posted so he’ll know you’re still alive.”

The braves got to us and while I wasn’t fluent, I knew enough to understand it was time to prepare for the wedding. We were going to the sweat lodge for a purification ritual. Eight of us crowded into the small hut. it was almost too hot to breathe and when one of the braves threw some water on the hot rocks, steam went everywhere. I was just beginning to enjoy it when everybody jumped up. Skunk grabbed my arm. “Come on Rocky! This will feel great.”

We ended up running down to the river naked and jumped in while all the women in the village watched, tittering behind their hands. Even in the summertime that water was cold! Afterwards, we got out and laid on some rocks to dry. I could have gone to sleep, but Skunk got me up.

“Boy, if you don’t want to go to your weddin’ blankets sunburned, you’d best get up and dress.”

I never thought about it, but I probably stood out with my pale skin. When we got to the tipi there was a set of buckskins laid out. “My weddin’ present to you. Now get dressed.”

I had to admit I looked pretty fancy in the outfit. In the late afternoon sun in front of the whole village I went through the ceremony, doing what Skunk told me to when he told me to do it. Doe Eyes had on a white bucksin dress with fancy beadwork and was smiling to beat the band. When it was over, the whole village walked us back. “Get in, boy. They’re gonna sew the flap shut. You better make your bride squeal because everybody will be listening.”

...

She did squeal. And she cried and moaned. I did a lot of grunting myself, and we must have done good judging by the grins when they let us out.

Two weeks later, Skunk said it was time to go to the closest town for supplies. I went along with my new bride and a few braves. They stayed out of sight while we filled out the list. I had to buy another pack mule to haul everything I bought. I filled that pack with needles, thread, thimbles and as much cloth as I could lay hands on.

“You a tailor?” I guess the store owner had never seen a man buy that much cloth.

“Nope. The wife likes to sew. I figure it’ll give her something to do come winter time.” The merchant’s wife was there and she made some suggestions, so I added ribbons and a few more odds and ends. Then I saw the beads.

“What are those for?”

“We do some trade with the local Indians. They love this stuff.”

I bought every jar they had, saying it might come in handy for trade as I traveled.

We filled up three more pack mules with food. Sugar, coffee, flour, as much as we could get. Salt, pepper, anything that was on our list. I also filled one half of one pack with different candies. I never saw a people that had a bigger sweet tooth.

On a whim I went into a jewelry store and bought a wedding band with a small diamond and some dangly earrings they had on display. She cried when I gave them to her and showed me just how much she liked them most of the night. I know it caused a wave of jealously among the other wives, and the braves were a little ticked at me.

Little Big Man, come to find out his real name was Dark Horse, stayed pretty close to me and we became about as good friends as we could for how we started off. He insisted I show him how to punch so we spent a few afternoons in a quiet draw while I showed him some simple boxing and a few dirty tricks. He started using them in contests with the other braves and won more than he lost.

He even picked up an admirer. Cottonwood was the youngest daughter of the War Chief and cute as a button. He told me he was going to try to marry her as soon as he got a better stake up. The Indian Gods must have heard him because we went on a little huntin’ expedition, hopin’ to maybe get a nice deer or two or even better a few young buffalo for the tribe.

Skunk saw them first. I always thought I had good eyes until I ran in to him. He could see an ant crawl across a twig at a hundred yards and notice it had a leg missing.

“Pull up boys. Somethin’ ain’t right out there and I want to study on it.”

We stopped just under a ridge so we weren’t sky-lined, and it felt like we sat there forever. We were smart enough not to worry about it and after about an hour he spoke. “There, by that broke-down oak at the top of that draw.”

We looked as eight riders came out of the draw. They were ridin’ light and watchin’ careful, and all of us could see the paint on their faces. This was a raidin’ party, usually some young bucks out to make a name for themselves like Dark Horse had done. My mind flashed back to Doe Eyes and her friends gathering roots and herbs in the valley near the camp. They’d make a mighty interesting target.

For just three of us we were pretty well-heeled. I had my Winchester and Remington. Skunk had the brand-new model of the same weapon and a Peacemaker I’d gifted him with when we were trading. Dark Horse was carrying my old Dragoon and Skunk’s old single shot rifle and had turned into a pretty good shot.

They were about halfway to our position and we were trying to figure out the best way to handle them when Dark Horse jumped his pony and went charging out, yellin’ at the top of his lungs. They were caught flatfooted and hesitated. Dark Horse didn’t, raising his rifle and popping what he thought was the leader right between the eyes. He turned around and went by us at a full gallop, sliding off as he reached us and pulling the Dragoon. They come charging over that hill madder than hell and I bet they thought they ran into a buzz-saw.

We emptied both rifles and Dark Horse blew some pretty big holes in a couple with that Dragoon. By the time Skunk and I went to pistols there were only two left and they decided to make a run for it. They almost made it but I managed to knock one out of the saddle and the other rolled like a stone going downhill when Skunk hit his horse.

The brave jumped up and started running, but Dark Horse was back in the saddle charging after him. He rode into the brave and while he was tumbling, the boy was off his horse with knife in hand. The other brave was older and more experienced, but Dark Horse put the lessons we gave him to good use, catching his opponent with a wicked left that sent him sprawling. The brave ended up on his back with Dark Horse straddling him. He grabbed the warrior’s braids and lifted his head up. It gave him easy access to his throat, and blood flew as the blade flashed.

The shots had brought other warriors to our location and they got there just in time to watch Dark Horse beat an older bigger enemy in hand-to-hand combat. His stock rose considerably as they watched. They went out and gathered the horses and dragged the bodies into the shade. Judging by the holes we could tell Dark Horse had killed three with his weapons and the fourth with his knife. We split the spoils of war up leaning heavily in his favor. He got the possessions of four warriors and three horses. Skunk and I split the rest. I didn’t care for any of it, but we had to follow tradition.

He was the conquering hero at the feast that night. We may have exaggerated a little, but in the end it seemed Dark Horse carried the battle and we were just along for the leavings. Cottonwood was looking at him like he hung the moon and the War Chief was being real friendly. It would be good to have such a mighty warrior in the family.

Two days later all the leaders, Skunk, me, and Dark Horse sat around a fire. We passed the pipe and got the blessings out of the way before we started plotting our revenge. Several scouts had back-trailed the bunch and found their village. It was a two-week journey farther north and was a good-sized village.

I wondered what my family would think as I sat there and plotted the deaths of these people’s enemies. Then again, I had ‘married’ into the tribe, had fought for them and the thought of me riding away leaving a possible threat hanging over them didn’t set well.

It took us four days to prepare before we started out. Half the warriors went with us, as well as a few of the youngsters who were allowed to go along to prove themselves. The rest were to stay in case there were any more raiding parties about. Thirty braves and youngsters, Skunk and I set out.

The Scouts had done a good job and we talked it over. Traditional wisdom said attack at dawn while people were half-asleep. We were going the other way. We were going to attack an hour before sunset. We figured they would be relaxed, thinking they had made it through the day, eating their suppers, without weapons at the ready.

They put Dark Horse in charge of any stray warriors and guards. They were to be killed as quickly and quietly as possible. I decided to go along in case it got hot and they needed the backup of my rifle. We did catch a few warriors riding in late. They all got multiple arrows through their chest and heads and died with a minimum of noise. Then we took out the horse herd guards, boys too young to be warriors but were old enough to be guards. They weren’t supposed to engage, but high-tail it back to the village and raise the alarm. We managed to get all of them but one.

We hazed the herd in the general direction of the village. The hoses didn’t like our smell, knowing we were strangers, and were more than willing to move away from us.

One boy who couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen popped up from behind a log and put an arrow through one of ours before turning and running for the village screaming his head off. That was the signal and I fired a few rounds into the air while our group started screaming and yelling. The horses took off at a gallop, catching up to the boy about halfway down the hill. I saw him go down under the hooves. There wasn’t much left when we rode by.

The herd hit the village with the force of an avalanche. Women and children were screaming while the warriors tried to get their weapons and the horses they’d kept in camp. A few succeeded, but were no match for our firepower. Tipis toppled and a few caught fire. The chaos was hard to describe. A few warriors managed to get mounted, but they were swept away by the crush of the herd.

The rest of our group were off in pursuit while Skunk, Dark Horse, me, and a warrior named Walks Badly (he had a limp) stayed behind. We found a few dead and wounded warriors and they scalped them all, killing the ones who were wounded. We were about to turn when I heard what sounded like a baby crying. I followed the sound to a creek bank and there, crowded in a slight depression, five women and about six children ranging from six down to the baby I heard crying were hiding.

They looked up at us terrified, thinking they were going to die. If the rest of the band had been there it would have been a foregone conclusion, but I guess they were lucky in that they got us. We ordered them to come out and they did, singing the squaw and children’s version of a death song.

All but one. She was looking at us with pure hatred in her eyes, holding a big butcher knife in one hand and a baby in the other. I tried to reason with her, but she either didn’t understand me or she wasn’t buying it and took a swipe at me.

I stopped talking and popped her on the side of the head and she almost dropped the baby. I grabbed it and the knife at the same time and got out carrying the baby. She had no choice but to follow because of her child.

We had no idea how many we’d killed or how fast the remaining warriors could regroup, so we set about pulling useable stuff out of the fallen tipis and mounding it into a pile. Skunk finally got them to understand they needed to grab as many things as they could as fast as they could. By the time they were done, they looked like pack animals. Walks Badly rounded up a few horses and fashioned simple bridles for them. We put them on horses, one adult and child per horse. We had one left over, a little girl of about three, so I put her in front of me. We had them tied to the horses so they wouldn’t get cute.