When he reached the mouth of the cave the Nokoni put out the lamp and hid it behind a rock, then stepped outside and looked up. A clear sky filled with millions of stars stared silently back. He gazed at them for a long time.
“Maybe today will be the end of it?” he wondered.
Shadow preferred to travel at night. The quiet anonymity of the darkness gave him a satisfaction and pleasure he didn’t understand and didn’t feel any need to understand. He just liked it. Plus, he knew that a man was invisible to his enemies at night. Over the years the Indian had made many enemies among the Comanche, whites, Mexicans, Sioux, and Apache. Recently, however, the realization had sunk in that he was tired of watching his back. Always watching to see if one of his foes might be coming to take revenge tired a man out.
This foolishness with Chief Broken Head had made him even more enemies. Oh, like always he had enjoyed the hunt, exalted in the chase, the screams of terror when the outlaws made their mischief. But so what, he thought impatiently, what did this life ever get for Shadow? The few dollars of white man’s money disappeared as fast as the thrill of the raid or the robbery.
Reaching into the leather waist-pouch the renegade pulled out a pinch of medicine and snorted it. Feeling a burst of energy, he walked quickly toward the juniper grove where his horse was hidden. He spoke a few kind words to the animal, untethered it, and set out toward the Golden Lane Ranch.
16
As the sun rose the next morning, Blue Shadow surveyed the ranch from the top of a ridge. He studied the layout of the range and the buildings, noted the coming and goings of the various people from them. His special interest was in the movements of Georgia – the one he called Green Eyes. He had an assignment from the white chief to kidnap her again and he knew that there would be no payment unless the job was successful.
He needed to find an opportunity to catch Georgia when she was alone. Or if not alone, he needed to find a situation where she was vulnerable to attack by being with someone who would not interfere with the kidnapping. Someone who could be quickly dealt with and not alert others to his presence.
His thoughts turned to the first time he had captured Green Eyes at the Sutton County Hotel. She had been with the older woman then – the one he called Flaming Head for her mane of fiery red hair. He had been lucky to catch them both in the room alone – even though he did not see the waitress until she screamed in the hallway. But the young waitress was so terrified she just cowered against the wall. It would not be so easy here at the Golden Lane. It seemed like there were always people around: the sheriff and his fat brother, ranch hands, the old white man. Flaming Head herself seemed to only leave the house when she came outside to the front.
There was no hurry. If he had to, the Indian could study the layout for a week or two before making his move. And he thought he might just do that; because once he made the attempt on Green Eyes there would be no second chances. All those at the ranch would be on alert and ready for anything.
Three days went by before Shadow saw an opportunity. Early in the morning, after the sheriff left for Sonora, Green Eyes and Flaming Head got into a buckboard wagon and left for the town.
Their women must be going for supplies with the wagon.
It was a short distance to Sonora but the Comanche knew that the road passed close to a thick grove of juniper trees at one point. He thought that was a good place to make a capture. He would hide in the trees and wait for them to return from the town. Then – same as the tea room in Sonora – he would take down Flaming Head first and steal Green Eyes away.
When the buckboard had rolled out of sight, the Indian retrieved his horse and moved out toward the ambush point.
* * *
When he had found a good position in the trees along the road, Shadow tethered his horse and settled down to wait. He checked the supplies in his leather pouch and chose several of the heavier darts. Since the women were travelling in a wagon this attack would have to be made on horseback. Shooting at a moving target while riding a horse – and taking into account the ever-present west Texas breeze – meant that heavier darts would have a better chance of hitting their target. He checked the tips to be sure they were still covered with an ample dose of medicine to put the women to sleep quickly. Then he placed the projectiles into special loops he had sewn into his belt to hold them ready for action. After that, there was nothing to do but wait.
Maybe this day will be the end of it, he thought again. Or maybe a start of the end. Shadow will hold Green Eyes at his cave until it is time for her to go. Then I get money from Broken Head and buy wives. Three wives and three tents! Then the Nokoni will know Shadow is a big man.
The waiting turned into an hour. Two hours. Once he heard a wagon coming down the road, he jumped up and peeked through the foliage. But it was only another buckboard with two hands going back to the ranch. The cowboys were spitting tobacco juice and talking too loudly, the way all white men talk.
Why do white men always talk like they are a day’s ride from one another? Are all born with bad ears? Maybe they like the sound of their voice too much.
When the hands had ridden on, the Nokoni sat down again with his back against a tree trunk. Another hour went by. Shadow began to get impatient.
Their women do not talk loud, they talk long! Probably still in the town flapping lips at all they meet.
He remembered his wife. She talked long. Cackling to himself he recalled the way their marital issue had been resolved. She never talk again! I cut her throat so no more words come out. Nokoni tell me go away long time ago now. They will see who is big man when Shadow come home with three wives and three tents pulled by three horses!
The sound of another wagon grabbed his attention. He peeked through the foliage: Green Eyes and Flaming Head! Running to his horse, Shadow untethered the animal and jumped onto its back. He unslung the dart pipe and held it in one hand, ready for action. Then he waited for the wagon to pass by. He would approach from behind them to avoid being seen as long as possible. Like it had happened at the hotel, the Indian hoped he could get a dart into the older lady before they even knew he was there.
As the wagon rumbled past, Shadow kicked his horse forward and it sprang out of the trees at a run. He galloped toward the buckboard, placing the first dart into the pipe on the fly. The women still had not seen him. When his horse was twenty yards away, Shadow raised the pipe to his lips with one hand and held the reins in the other.
Five yards from the wagon he loosed the first dart at Martha. It missed her and stuck into the wood at the back of the seat. Georgia, who was driving the team, heard the impact. She looked down and saw the dart, then turned and saw the Indian.
“Martha! Shadow’s on our tail!”
The older lady turned and saw the Indian loading a dart into his pipe. “Not for long he ain’t!” she cried out and reached into the scabbard beside the seat, pulling out her scattergun. “Don’t speed up, gal! Keep drivin’ ‘em steady so I can get a couple shots off.”
Shadow saw Flaming Head raise the shotgun and veered his horse to the side just before the weapon fired. Some of the buckshot from the blast caught him in the shoulder and he grunted in pain. He slowed the animal, turned, and headed back toward the grove at a run.
“Ha-heee...I winged him, gal! He’s turned tail and backin’ off,” Martha shouted in victory.
* * *
Back at the Golden Lane that evening, James listened as Georgia and Martha told him how they fended off the attack. David and Charles were gathered in the den with them too. Although the men had heard the story earlier, they wanted to be there showing their support for the ladies’ victory.
“If he hadn’t turned his horse at the last second I would have blown him to kingdom come,” Martha said. “Winged ‘em though, got a few pieces of buckshot into his shoulder.”
“Good work, Auntie,” James said.
“And you should have seen this here debutante of yours: cool as a cucumber drivin’ that buc
kboard when we was under attack!” She looked over at Georgia sitting nearby. “This woman of yours has got some spunk all right, James, she’s got grit.”
“I just did what you told me to do, Aunt Martha,” Georgia said humbly.
“Don’t sell yourself short, gal. Some women fall to pieces in a situation like that. I’ve seen it happen. They start to screechin’ and get all froze up with fear. But you kept right on drivin’ and kept ‘em steady so I could squeeze off a shot.”
James looked at Georgia. “Didn’t I tell you that a woman sometimes needs to fire a gun in Texas? I’m proud of you, darlin’. You did well today. Just like you did at the corral the other day, brandin’ that calf.” He turned to the rest of the group. “Yep. This woman here has definitely got some grit, folks.”
“Hear, hear!” Charles exclaimed. “I’m proud of you too, Pumpkin.”
“Good work, Georgie,” David chimed in.
Georgia flushed with embarrassment at all the praise. “Thank you, thank you, everybody. But please, you’re making me all sweaty here. Can we talk about something else now?”
“Well, this means that at least one of the gang is still around,” James said. “If there was more of ‘em they’d have been in on the attack, too. Looks like after Smokey and Jessie were killed the others melted away when the stakes got higher.”
“We still ain’t any closer to figurin’ out who’s behind it though,” David said, “and whoever it is they sure seem determined to teach you a lesson, James, like I heard ‘em say at the cabin. They ain’t backin’ down.”
“And neither are we!” Martha exclaimed. “My blood is up, boys. I’m tired of these desperadoes comin’ at us womenfolk. The bunch of cowards! I hope my scattergun sent ‘em a message that we ain’t gonna take this lyin’ down no more. Ain’t that right, Georgia?”
“Hey, I’m just a mild-mannered deb from Boston, Aunt Martha. But if you say so – I’m with you.”
“That a girl!” Martha said. “Sometime you just gotta look evil in the eye and say ‘that’s far enough, fellers: we ain’t playin’ nice no more. So you’d best just stand down and take your...shenanigans and peashooters elsewhere.’”
“I think you lads have been blessed with one lion of an auntie here,” Charles said. “I myself would hate to be one of those outlaws right about now.”
“Auntie ain’t pullin’ your leg none either, Charles,” said David. “She lived through the Indian wars in Texas and has seen some bad outlaws in her time. The women in those days had to hold the home front all by themselves sometimes – fend for themselves when the menfolk were away.”
“I have no doubt about that whatsoever, David,” Charles answered, “and believe me it is my honor to make the acquaintance of a woman such as you, Martha Gainey.”
“Why thank you kindly, Charles. I just hope I didn’t scare nobody none with my war talk. Anyways, enough of that. My stomach is gettin’ so hungry it’s startin’ to think my throat got cut. Supper time, everybody!”
* * *
Blue Shadow winced with pain as he picked pebbles of buckshot out of his arm with the tip of the Bowie knife. They weren’t debilitating wounds but painful enough to cause the Indian to think about whether or not he wanted to continue working for Broken Head.
It seemed that the white chief’s plans were failing at every turn. First the fat man escaped from Smokey and Jessie. Then Green Eyes escaped – although Shadow knew he had a role in that because information had been withheld from the outlaws – information that allowed the lawmen to find them.
Even so, Flaming Head had now stopped his second attempt to take the woman. And she had put a few pieces of buckshot into his body for good measure. This uncomfortable reality made the renegade feel ashamed and embarrassed.
Beaten by a woman! It is too much to bear! I hope my people will never learn what happened on this day. It is enough the Nokoni banished Shadow from the tribe. To know they laugh at him also...he could not live with it.
Still, the Comanche wanted to be paid for his efforts and for what he had suffered. He did not want it all to be in vain. Broken Head refused to pay until the job was finished. He had to stay on to collect the money.
He resolved to continue.
Once the last piece of buckshot was out of his arm, Shadow applied a herbal remedy and a poultice to the area. This would help it heal and also to prevent infection. Then he leaned back against the rock wall of the cave and closed his eyes. He was exhausted mentally and physically. The wounds would be painful for days. Hopefully there would be no more messages until they healed.
He napped briefly and woke up angry.
Sleep will not come to cover my wounds! The pain and dishonor are too great.
In that moment Shadow knew he could not continue with Broken Head’s plans. The mysterious alchemy that measures pain against gain in the human heart had shifted the balance. There was no mistaking it. He had arrived at the limit of patience with the man, the limit of suffering for his foolishness.
It is enough. I will go and see him. One way or another, Shadow will have payment for the work – whether it is in money or blood. I do not care which one. Let the white fool decide for himself what it will be.
Uttering a bitter oath in the Nokoni language, the renegade swore to fulfill whatever had been decided by fate.
But first Shadow must heal.
He reached into his leather waist-pouch and this time it was not for a stimulant. He wanted to sleep for a long time – to sleep through the pain of the gunshots, sleep through the humiliating shame of failing in an attack on a woman, and to gather strength to fulfill what must come.
Taking a small leather bag from inside the pouch, Shadow licked his index finger and stuck it into a powdery substance within. Putting the finger to his tongue the bitter sedative began to work immediately.
Shadow will sleep – then he will settle the score with Broken Head.
Within seconds the renegade fell unconscious onto the cave floor.
17
On a hot June evening, James and Georgia sat in the coolness of the Golden Lane’s den talking about their wedding plans. They still hadn’t made a final decision about where to hold the celebration.
“You know, darlin’” he said, “I’ve been thinkin’ that maybe it would be a good idea to have the wedding reception at the Sutton Hotel after all.”
“Oh?” she said with surprise. “I thought it was too fancy for your taste?”
“Yep, sure enough. But after talking to Arthur in his office the other night, I’m thinkin’ maybe it would cheer him up if we had it there. You know, make him feel a part of things. He ain’t got no family in Sutton County anymore and I don’t really mind if we have the party at the hotel. We could have it at the North Pole, darlin’ – all I care about is if you and me are together. That’s what matters to me.”
“Aww, that’s sweet,” she said, moving closer to him on the couch. She kissed him on the cheek and took his hand in hers. “I think that’s an excellent idea to have the party at the Sutton, honey. It would be good for Arthur.”
“Okay, let’s do it then. I’ll go see him tomorrow and let him know what we’ve decided.” He kissed Georgia’s hand. “Thanks.”
“While we’re at it,” she said, putting her head onto his shoulder, “what do you think about expanding the guest list a bit?”
“How do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean why don’t we invite my Mama and brothers to come here from Boston for the wedding?”
James didn’t hesitate. “That’s a fine idea. Let’s just run it by your daddy and make sure he’s on board with it too. There’s been a lot of excitement around here lately with Blue Shadow and all. Better make sure he don’t think comin’ to Sonora would be too much for your mama.”
They found Charles out on the veranda in the midst of a chess match with David. Both men were staring at the board, deep in thought as they considered their next moves. “How’s the game going?” Georgia ask
ed as she and James stepped out onto the veranda.
The men looked up at them. “I’m getting schooled here, Georgie,” David replied. “Your daddy here is teaching me the meaning of strategy.” They both chuckled.
“Well, David,” Charles offered diplomatically, “if you bear in mind that I’ve had a couple of decades more experience playing chess than you have, you’re really not doing that badly after all.”
“Very kind of you to say that, Charles,” David smiled. “Very kind indeed.”
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