Читать книгу Dakota Cowboy - Linda Ford - Страница 11

Wade alternately stared at the ashes of his campfire and the dusty toes of his boots. Three days. Three long days he’d hung about trying to convince Lucy to do her duty as a daughter and a decent human being and visit her father before he died.

Wade had haunted the dining room waiting for opportunities to talk to Lucy until Harry had stomped out with a spoon the size of a bucket hanging from his ham-hock fists and ordered him to leave Lucy alone.

Wade had no desire to come to blows with the larger man or any of his primitive kitchen utensils, so he’d waited for an opportunity to speak to Lucy away from the eagle eyes of Harry.

He’d found such opportunity when he watched her and Roy settle on a rough plank bench in the shade of the livery stable. He followed at a distance, undetected, and slipped around the barn until he could listen and watch unobserved. It took him a moment to realize Lucy and Roy were bent over a book, their heads almost touching as Lucy taught the boy to read.

Huh. Wade sank back on his heels. Why would she spend that much time with Roy yet refuse to visit Scout—her own flesh and blood?

He moseyed around the corner and confronted the pair.

Roy glowered at him. “She don’t want to see you. Thought she made that plain.”

Wade wanted to laugh at the boy’s belligerence. He posed no threat, carried no oversize kitchen spoon but he was every bit as protective of Lucy as Harry was. Having no desire to mock the boy’s spirit, Wade kept his face expressionless. “I think she owes me a chance to explain.”

Roy jumped to his feet, fists curled at his side and donned a scowl fit to curdle Wade’s supper.

Lucy rose to Roy’s side and dropped an arm across the boy’s shoulders. “Let it be, Roy. I can defend myself.” The way she stuck out her chin and gave Wade a look fit to set his hair on fire made him squirm.

“No need to get all prickly around me. I mean no harm.”

“Just going to make a nuisance of yourself because you won’t take no for an answer.”

He thought some on that. Finally, he let out a long-suffering sigh. “I guess there’s no point in hanging around any longer. ’Sides, I’d like to see Scout before he passes. You’ll find me camped in that piddly patch of trees on the other side of town if you change your mind or decide you want to hear why I think the man deserves a visit from you.” He purposely waited, hoping she’d be curious to know why he owed the man this, but she just stared.

“Fine.” He spun around and marched away without a backward look, without saying all the hot words that pushed at the top of his head. The woman was a lost cause. Too bad for Scout, but perhaps it was best the man yearn after a girl he remembered as sweet and loving rather than face the truth about her coldheartedness.

He’d ride out first light. Or maybe he’d endure a train ride as he’d planned to do when he figured to have Lucy with him. He wanted to make it back in time to bid Scout farewell.

Though he hated to face the man and admit he’d failed to get Lucy to accompany him.

Even though he’d prayed. Guess a man couldn’t expect God to jump to do his bidding. Being rescued by prayer once was more than most ever experienced and he would never forget the occasion, nor how it had made his faith in God grow like desert flowers after rain.

It was an experience that meant a lot to him. He might have shared the details with Lucy in the hopes it would convince her to visit Scout.

God, I know I ain’t got the right to ask for more than what You’ve already given, but if You could do something to prod Lucy to consider allowing Scout to see her once more before he dies…

He returned to his campsite and settled back against one of the puny trees. He’d wait until morning to leave. Give Lucy a chance to reconsider. Give God a chance to do something to persuade her.

Dusk turned the street gray and darkened the shadows along the buildings to indigo. Grasshoppers and crickets sought to outdo each other in their creaky nightly chorus. Birds settled in for the night, calling to each other one last time.

Lucy and Roy leaned against the livery stable wall. The worn wood hoarded the heat of the day and baked their backs, but they were too content to move. She’d been reluctant to return to her solitary room after the way Wade had stalked off, anger evident in every step. Her heart clenched. Seems Wade had found friendship, perhaps belonging, maybe even a home with her father—something she had wanted most of her life. But her wanting had brought her nothing but disappointment and pain. She would not let Wade’s insistence and pleading trick her into walking headlong into a repeat of those emotions.

She should return to her room. If Harry and Hettie knew she was out alone after dark they would both scold her. But she wasn’t exactly alone. Roy had no place to go but the corner of the loft where he slept, so he willingly kept her company.

They had no need to talk but sat in companionable silence listening to the night and bits of conversation floating on the still air.

A harsher, louder sound caused them both to jolt upright.

“It’s just the door into the barn,” Lucy said.

Angry voices rose and fell. She made out a few words. “Cheat.” “Pay back.”

Curious as to what it was about, Lucy looked around, saw a tiny circle of yellow light and pressed her eye to the hole in the wall. Roy found another spot. From her spy hole Lucy got a clear view of Smitty. She resisted the urge to spit. Smitty was a scoundrel and the town could well do without him. He bullied and threatened his way around, acting like he owned the town and its inhabitants. He spent time in jail on a semiregular basis for minor offenses. Too bad someone couldn’t prove one of the many bigger things they suspected him of.

Another man faced Smitty, someone Lucy had seen only a time or two. She’d noticed the man had eyes that seemed to see everything, yet reveal nothing. But he sure looked scared right now. He held his hands out toward Smitty.

“I got no gun.”

That’s when Lucy saw that Smitty held a pistol aimed straight at the other man’s heart.

Her breath stalled halfway to her lungs and she clawed for Roy’s hand but found nothing but raw, slivered boards. She should leave. Run as far and fast as she could but she seemed tacked to the wall watching the two men, their forms wavering uncertainly in the flickering lamplight.

Smitty’s teeth gleamed in a sneer. “Dead men tell no tales.” Light flared from the end of his pistol and the noise of a gunshot rattled against the walls.

The second man clutched at his chest. He stared at his blood-covered hands, then gave Smitty a look of surprise before he pitched to the ground.

“Is he dead?” Roy whispered.

Smitty, who had leaned over to put a second gun in the fallen man’s hand, glanced toward them.

“Shh.” Lucy didn’t dare move for fear of giving away their presence.

Smitty stepped back, turned to a third man that Lucy hadn’t seen until this point. She recognized him, too. Smitty’s half-brained sidekick, Louie. The man wore a perpetual smile that revealed a whole lot more meanness than humor.

Smitty spoke to the man and nodded toward Lucy and Roy’s position. Louie jerked his head in compliance and strode for the door.

Lucy’s blood burned through her body. “They know we’re here.” She turned, grabbed Roy’s hand in a death grip, held her skirts with her other hand and ran like her life depended on it, which she was quite sure it did. They didn’t stop until they crossed behind the blacksmith shop where they pressed to the wall. Lucy held her breath hoping they hadn’t been spotted. She hoped they were invisible. She prayed the men might think they’d been mistaken in thinking someone had seen them.

“Who’s there?” Louie called.

Lucy clutched at Roy’s hand knowing he was as scared as she.

“Maybe I seen a kid and maybe someone else. Thought it was a woman.”

Lucy’s heart rattled against her ribs. Please, God, let them think they made a mistake.

“It’s that kid who sleeps here,” Smitty grumbled. “And I know who the girl is. Only one person spends any time with the kid. Never mind them now. We know where to find them. We’ll get you later,” he called.

Lucy knew he meant the words for them just as surely as she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do to them the same thing he’d done to that man in the barn.

Other voices called. She recognized the sheriff’s voice asking what happened.

She leaned over her knees and tried to catch her breath.

“What we gonna do?”

“Let me think.” They had a few minutes while the sheriff investigated, but she knew Smitty had set it up to look like self-defense when it was clear and simple murder. Only Roy and Lucy knew the truth. And Louie, who would never tell. He’d probably been cheering in the background when Smitty shot the unarmed man.

Her heart rate spiked again. Smitty wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of anyone who could testify against him.

How long would it take for everyone to accept Smitty’s version of what transpired? How long did it give her to come up with a plan of escape?

“Come on.” She practically dragged Roy toward the dining room. They couldn’t stay there. It would be the first place Smitty would look. All he had to do was wait for her to…

Her heart climbed up her throat and clawed at the back of her mouth.

“Hurry. We have to find someplace to hide.” She burst into her room and grabbed up her Bible, which held her meager life savings in an envelope. She grabbed a battered valise Hettie had given her and randomly threw some articles of clothing on top of her Bible having no idea where she would go. She only knew that it wasn’t safe here.

She headed for the door, paused. She didn’t want Hettie and Harry to worry so she scribbled a note and left it on her pillow. “Went to visit my father. Will contact you later.”

It was an excuse they would believe.

“What are we gonna do?” Roy’s voice thinned with fear.

She grabbed his hand. “Follow me.” She had no plan except escape.

They slipped out of her room and clung to the black shadows as they made their way to the edge of town opposite the livery barn. A commotion indicated the sheriff was still investigating along with every curious citizen who had come running at the sound of a gunshot.

Smitty wouldn’t be able to look for them until that was settled.

Roy yanked away. “If we’re leaving, I’m taking Queenie.” Mr. Peterson had given Roy an old nag of a horse. Roy diligently tethered her where she could nibble grass and faithfully carried water to her.

“Roy, we don’t have time.”

“We could ride her.”

There was something to that. “Where is she?”

He named a place and they head in that direction. “We’ll stop and get her.”

They just might get away in time.

Two Bit whinnied.

“What is it, boy?” Wade tipped his head and listened. He heard it a minute later—the sound of an approaching rider.

He scooped up his rifle and lounged with deceptive casualness. In his experience only trouble came riding into camp before dawn.

“Wade, are you there?”

His heart skidded sideways and crashed into his ribs. “Lucy, is that you?” What was she doing out before the sky had begun to lighten?

She rode up to him.

He grabbed the bridle of her horse, all the time alert for signs of danger. When he saw none, he relaxed. “You’ve decided to come with me?” he teased. She’d made it abundantly clear wild horses and six mad bulls wouldn’t drag her to the ranch.

“On one condition.”

He wished he could see her better. Assure himself she was teasing because, plain and simple, he didn’t believe she meant it.

“Yeah.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Wade, I mean it. I’ll go with you to see my father if you agree—” She glanced over her shoulder. Roy peeked around her arm. “You agree to take Roy.”

Wade wasn’t much for fancy talk. Sometimes he had to search for words. It came from spending most of his waking hours with nothing but cows, horses and equally untalkative cowboys. But for the life of him he couldn’t find even one word in his surprised brain. Not one word to say to this gal who had changed her mind faster than Dakota weather.

“Wade, we’ll go with you. But we have to hurry.” Her urgent tone caused his brain to burst into a gallop.

“What’s the rush?” He could feel the nervous tension vibrating from the pair. No way was he taking a step anywhere until he knew what was going on.

“I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

No mistaking the way her voice quivered. He guessed it was fear or nervousness. “What’s the hurry?”

“Smitty is after us.”

He knew about Smitty. Anyone who had been in town more than a few hours knew of the man. Either by word of mouth or by encounter. Wade had seen him in the store a couple of days ago. Had been forced to witness the man blatantly threaten a farmer over some disputed fence line. From what Wade gathered, the farmer was within his rights but it was plain as dirt on a white shirt that Smitty didn’t care about what was right. And certainly didn’t intend to let it interfere with his plans.

After the pair left, he asked the store owner why the sheriff didn’t do something. The man said, “He’d like to, but so far no one will testify against Smitty.”

“He’s gonna kill us.” Roy’s voice shook. All the kid’s bravado had vanished.

Roy’s fear sent Wade’s nerves into full alert. “Why?”

“Smitty killed a man in cold blood. We saw him. Smitty doesn’t want any witnesses.” Lucy’s voice trembled so bad he wanted to scoop her from the horse and hold her tight, assure her he’d keep her safe.

“You going to help or just stare at the horse’s nostrils?”

Wade laughed. “Lucy gal, you sure do have a sweet way of asking.”

“Phweet. If I’d known you expected sweet talk I’d give it, but right now I think urgency is a little more important.”

“Why don’t we just to tell the sheriff the truth?”

“You don’t know Smitty.” Her voice was tight, signaling her fear. “He’ll convince everyone the shooting was self-defense. He’ll already have half a dozen men as nasty as him watching for us. We wouldn’t make it two steps in town before he or one of them would grab us. We wouldn’t get anywhere near the sheriff.” Her words grew more urgent. “The best thing we can do is go somewhere and hide.”

“I expect you’re right. Good thing I was ready to go.” He settled the saddle on Two Bit, stuck his rifle in the boot and swung up. He paused to have a good look at the other horse in the gray light. “Where did you find that old nag?”

“She’s a good old horse.” Roy sounded a whole lot more like himself as he defended the bag of bones.

“Emphasis on old,” Wade muttered. “Come on, let’s make tracks.” The “good old horse” would have found Roy a load let alone the pair of them. She probably found her skin almost more’n she could handle. He edged up beside Lucy. “Roy, get on behind me. We’ll have to take turns carrying you.”

Just a few hours ago Wade had asked God to melt Lucy’s stubbornness. Little did he expect things to turn around so suddenly or in such an alarming fashion. He scanned the horizon, saw no sign of pursuit and prayed for God’s protection. He briefly considered his options. Seems he had only two—head for the train, or ride west. Riding left them exposed and vulnerable. He could likely outride and outmaneuver any pursuers, but doubted Lucy or Roy were up to the challenge. Certainly not on the old nag they had brought along.

On the other hand, he’d picked a campsite on the far side of town away from the rail station. Didn’t make any sense to ride through town.

He made up his mind. They’d head for the railway but not through town.

“Let’s ride.” He urged Two Bit into an easy lope. They rode from the shelter of the trees and headed west. A few minutes later, he glanced over his shoulder to check Lucy’s progress.

She kicked at the old horse’s side and slapped at the animal with the end of the reins. The horse managed what might pass for a jog.

“I can walk faster than that.” Someone had not gotten a good bargain on horseflesh.

He waited for the struggling pair to catch up. Lucy looked about ready to chew a handful of nails for breakfast. “Where did you get that old hay burner?”

The look she shot him made him winch. “Mr. Peterson gave her to Roy.”

He sputtered with surprise then the humor of it hit him and he roared with laughter. Two Bit perked up his ears and danced sideways. Roy clung to his waist. Wade wiped his eyes and continued laughing despite Lucy’s pinched look.

“Did you think we stole her?” she demanded.

Wade managed to choke back his enjoyment of the idea of someone persuading Roy he was doing him a favor though he couldn’t stop it from circling his words as he spoke. “Mr. Peterson saved himself the price of a bullet and left Roy with the responsibility of feeding the old thing. Got to admire a man with such business savvy.” Even free was too much for this sorry piece of horseflesh. He whooped with laughter.

Lucy fixed him with a hard, unyielding frown.

Wade forced himself to put on a sober face, though inside he continued to chortle. “If we hurry we might make the rail station by nightfall.” He reined toward his destination, knowing now he could hope for nothing more than a plodding walk.

The pair of them seemed to think a walking glue factory was a wondrous gift. It amazed him. Delighted him. Filled him with admiration for the kind of spunk his Lucy showed.

His? Was his brain addled from surprise and too much laughter? She wasn’t his. Never would be. She had only agreed to accompany him because she needed to get away from Smitty. Would she stay on the ranch any longer than it took to say “Hello, Father. Goodbye, Father.?” Then reality hit him square between his eyes. Lucy couldn’t ride away after a hurried goodbye. Not until Smitty had been locked behind bars. The idea of that man posing a threat to Lucy or Roy made his fists coil.

They inched across the flat prairie. Although he took a circuitous route that kept him away from town, he felt as exposed as the sun. His skin itched at how easy it would be for someone to spot them and ride after them. Running from pursuers was impossible. But getting back to Dry Creek and catching the train was equally impossible. By the time they got there, Smitty would have every way in and out of town guarded by one of his cohorts.

He pulled up. “This ain’t going to work.”

Lucy’s shoulders drew back. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

He chuckled at her determination. “You planning to push that nag all the way across Dakota?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Now, how gentlemanly would that be? If someone is to push…” She left the rest unsaid. But he understood her message. If anyone had to do the pushing, she expected it to be him.

He eyed the tired old horse. “I could try riding her. Maybe I could convince her to go a little faster. Otherwise, we’ll be spending the winter out in the open plain.”

Lucy scowled. “You’d whip her, I suppose?”

Roy dropped to the ground and rushed to the old nag’s side. “You can’t hit her. She can’t help if she’s old.”

“Don’t suppose either of you thought to bring wheels?”

Two pairs of eyes regarded him suspiciously.

“The way I see it…” He pushed his hat back on his head and leaned over the saddle horn as if contemplating one of the universe’s darkest mysteries. “Either we plan to inch across the prairie—easy for anybody to see us, easier for them to chase us down—or we put wheels under that thing and I’ll drag her.”

“’Course we didn’t bring any wheels.”

He sighed. “I feared that might be your answer. Like I said, this isn’t going to work.”

They all stared at the horse.

“She happen to have a name?” Somehow, it might be easier to deal with her if she was more than a nameless pile of skin draped over protruding bones.

Roy wrapped his arm around the sorry animal’s head. “’Course she has a name. It’s Queenie. ’Cause she’s like a queen.” His tone dared Wade to question the name.

In order to restrain his laughter, Wade drew his lips in tight hoping he looked thoughtful. He slanted a look at Lucy and when he saw her eyes brimming with merriment, he had to bite the inside of his lip.

But their lack of speed was no laughing matter. They had to find some other way of getting across this open land. He studied the landscape trying to come up with a solution. Wheels were not the answer. Unless…he stared southwest. “We’ll go that way.”

“We aren’t going back, are we?”

“Lucy, we’re going to find some wheels.”

“Who’s going to push?”

“The iron horse.”

“A train?”

“Yup.” He’d planned on catching the new SOO line that was direct to Minot and from there they would ride. But if he dropped down to the Northern Pacific line and the less direct route, it might serve their purpose even better, make it a little harder for any pursuers to know for sure where they were headed. And the line was considerably closer if his reckoning was right.

Lucy brightened faster than the sun that now sat several degrees above the horizon, promising another searing day.

Wade eyed the flat land. Being out on the unprotected prairie didn’t seem like the best plan a man could devise. “Come on, Roy. Climb on.” He reached out a hand.

“Will we get breakfast when we get there? I’m awfully hungry.”

“Roy, you’re always hungry.” Lucy’s tone warned him not to complain.

Wade lifted the boy to the back of his horse. “I’m feeling kind of hollow myself. I’m sure we’ll be able to rustle up something.” If he was correct they should connect about the same place as the little town of Anders. They’d find food there. Plus water and relief from the unrelenting heat.

Three hours later, the heat shimmered unmercifully and between them they had downed his entire supply of water.

Wade began to wonder if they’d missed the line entirely and were doomed to wither into nothingness in the baked grass.