Chapter 10

Eight days later I woke between Helen and Mary in Mary's wagon. I was still wound up from imagining what Helga must have looked like naked three nights before when she had her final fitting. I knew better than to hide and watch again even though Nadine was sure Helga wouldn't squawk a bit if I sat right out in the open.

I told Nadine there was no way I could keep from hopping on Helga for a ride and Nadine just said she wouldn't watch, much. Her offer and comments tempted me, but I made myself stay away. At the end of the session I realized I might as well have given it a try. My imagination was keeping me harder than watching would have, and that's saying something.

I'd given Helen and Mary a serious workout that night and switched my attention to Honey, Elizabeth, and Rebecca the next. Last night I'd worn Helen and Mary out again, but I didn't get any complaints.

Even after spending time in the wagon with Mary and Helen during the wee hours I was still up a little before false dawn, and when Mary came out to get started on the food I had the fire in good shape and the coffee made. Hell, I'd even had a couple of cups already. Helen and the girls came out to help right after Mary and Honey showed up.

Grass didn't grow under the women's feet and in what seemed only a few minutes we all ate our breakfasts. Jim, Charlie, and Jimmy left after they were done and started hitching the teams while I caught and saddled my Red.

At this late date everyone knew the drill and Jenkins headed us out not long after dawn. The sky was clear and it would probably be another uneventful day of drivers staring at mule's asses. I could settle for riding along while it was going on. It might be boring, but anything that wasn't was likely to be dangerous or deadly and the war had already showed me all of that kind of shit I wanted.

Today was our twentieth day and the two scouts agreed that we'd probably come to the Republican River tomorrow or the next day. It suited me fine even though when we crossed it there'd be another day of pains in the ass. It's ain't so bad getting one wagon across a river if there's a good ford, but when fifty three have to cross, someone is going to fuck the dog before you're done and then everybody has to help.

At least I was sure Jim and Charley had all our wagons ready to make a crossing. I'd paid a couple of guys who knew what they were doing to help them check the wagons out and fix up any little buggers before it was our turn to get wet, or try not to.

What the hell, we had plenty of money and spending a little of it on the help was a bargain. It meant I didn't have to fuck around making sure there was plenty of caulking and tar in every single crack. I did step and fetch for the guys that were doing the job but that beat the hell out of getting under a wagon, pounding cord or torn up blankets into the cracks and slathering the damned hot tar over the whole business. Shit, mostly I just stood around.

The next day was the same old same old until around eleven, when we reached the Republican's ford. Of course all the women and kids got out to walk around and most people seemed to be fixing a regular noon meal while the rest of us got our wagons in line to cross the river. Jack Jenkins had his final checkout to do on our rolling stock before we started across.

This time it was our turn to suck hind tit. We'd be the last wagons across today. The good part was any unforeseen nasties in the river would be sorted out by the time we tried it. The bad part was we'd be expected to lend a hand for everyone else if it came to it, and then they'd all be trying to get their shit back together on the other side if we stepped in something. Oh well.

Things went along just fine, and after a couple or three hours it was time for us. Of course I'd been in the river a few times already and my wet clothes didn't make me feel all that chipper. At least there were plenty of trees this close to the river and they gave a good shade so we weren't worn out from the heat.

I was walking back to my wagon to pull it up when I heard screams out in the trees where some of the women and kids were sitting around passing time. I looked that way and nearly shit.

There's no way to tell how they did it, but there were four mounted young Indian bucks among the women and children. All our folks were running around wondering whether to shit or go blind and the Indians were chasing hell our of them. I'm sure it was a bunch of young bucks wanting to count coup, but that kind of shit would be dangerous with the women and kids, and of course the Indians didn't give a rat's ass if someone got hurt from their foolishness. It crossed my mind that they weren't above nabbing a woman or two if they thought they could get away with it.

They must have, because just then I saw one of them, mounted on the biggest Steel Dust stallion I'd ever seen, race by Rebecca and as he got near he leaned over to the side toward her and scooped her up and across the big horse's withers. Then he let out one of those stupid Indian yells and hauled his ass, taking Rebecca with him. I hauled my ass to, toward Red, and off to the side I could see the other Indians scatter now, each in a different direction.

That Steel Dust was fast and by the time I'd mounted and lit out they were probably nearly a quarter mile ahead. I didn't worry about catching them though; mostly I worried about getting Rebecca back without her getting hurt. Things were going to be tricky and no matter what I tried it was going to be dangerous for all concerned.

Of course the Steel Dust was a good bit faster at first. Hell, that's why they were so popular for working cows in the first place. They had early speed. I wondered where in the hell the Indian had stolen it. Aside from saving Rebecca my next thought was saving the Indian's horse. It was the best Steel Dust I'd ever seen, and in Texas I'd seen a bunch of 'em.

My horse wasn't nearly as good as that one but it wasn't a Steel Dust either. Mine was more of a long legged drink of water and I was pretty sure there was a Thoroughbred somewhere back among his ancestors. The Indian was ahead now and staying ahead for the moment but a Steel Dust isn't a horse that can run all out for long, and besides, it was carrying two.

Even though the Indians had just been fucking around scaring people for the hell of it, that didn't mean Rebecca wasn't going to end up a squaw if I didn't get her back. Indians were opportunist if nothing else, and a free woman was a free woman to them. I'm sure they'd have rather had a horse or two but he was sure as hell intending to keep Rebecca now that he had her. I intended to make sure he didn't.

If the Indian had been very smart he'd have already pitched Rebecca off and tried harder to get away. He had to know I had a gun or two of some sort, and since he'd looked around at me a time or two he knew that by now I was gaining. Hell, we'd come over a mile and a half now and the Steel Dust had done his best in the first quarter mile. That's why some people called them quarter horses. I'd be nearly up to them in another half mile and then what was mister noble savage going to do?

Using my head for once I pulled back just a little. My horse was still galloping hard, but no longer as fast as he could. The Indian had slowed a good bit but there was no sense bringing things to a quick ending. I hoped I could keep him thinking he still might get away if he just kept running. The slower we were going when he finally wised up and got rid of Rebecca the easier it would be on her hide, and other important parts, like her neck and punkin' head.

Even though I'd held back a little we were still gaining. The Steel Dust was done for in this race. He knew it, Red knew it, and I knew it. The only one who didn't seem to know was the Indian. It wasn't a minute later that they fell out of the slow lope and the Indian's horse broke into a trot. Might as well see if we could get this over with.

I urged my horse on a little and he was up to them in no time. What I was about to try was going to be more trouble than a whole lot and tricky as hell besides. When I was nearly even with the Indian I saw he had his left hand on Rebecca's back, holding her down and his tomahawk in his right hand, no doubt intending to see if it would be any help. It wasn't.

I shot him just under his right shoulder blade and from slightly behind. I hoped the bullet would hit lots of important things in there and it must have. He tried to keep his seat for a couple of seconds but just a few was all, and then he slumped back and fell off over his horse's ass. I couldn't see what he got up to after that because I was busy.

For the rest of my life I'll probably wonder how in the hell I managed to lean over and keep Rebecca on that poor Steel Dust with one hand while I grabbed the twine the noble red savage thought of as reins and slowed the horse to a stop. It's just lucky for me that my horse and I had fucked around with cattle for a few bucks on my way to Independence. We knew each other well enough that he stayed right with the Indian's former mount as we all came to a halt, more or less at the same time.