Wilderness Double Edition 13

by David Robbins

  “It’s one of those men! Fetch my pa!”

  Lou did no such thing. The two strangers had tried to kill Nate, so it was unlikely they’d have any reservations about killing Nate’s son. She raced after him.

  Zach plunged into the undergrowth, his moccasins flying. Among the Shoshones he was accounted as exceptionally fleet of foot, and he proved it now by swiftly gaining on the fleeing figure. The man looked back once, revealing a hook nose and a bushy beard. Zach also saw a rifle, something Zach didn’t have. He had left his at the cabin, thinking his two pistols were enough protection on a short walk to the lake. But he was not about to turn back. He would catch the coyote and further prove to his pa he was competent to be on his own – as Lou’s husband and protector.

  It wouldn’t be easy. The man was running faster, holding his own. Zach was hard-pressed to keep him in sight. With a hand on the butt of a flintlock at all times, Zach wound through the trees. He was seldom able to run in a straight line for more than a dozen yards thanks to all the obstacles. To further narrow the gap he hurtled over a log, then crashed through a thicket.

  Without warning the figure vanished.

  Zach slowed, wary of a ruse. Drawing the flintlock, he advanced a stone’s throw past the spot where he had last seen the stranger. There were no tracks, nothing. He turned to backtrack, and in the split second he did, he recognized his blunder. For in an instant the man was upon him.

  Zach spun, but he was too slow by half. The man had launched himself into the air. As Zach brought up the pistol, the man slammed into him with the force of a battering ram.

  Simon Ward looked at each of the Coyfields in turn, waiting for them to laugh. He thought Cole’s crude comment had been made in jest, but when none of them so much as cracked a grin and he saw Jacob give the oldest son a resentful glance, a terrible premonition came over him. Snapping erect, he declared, “That does it. I’ve tried to be civil. But this is the last straw. I want all of you to leave.”

  None of the Coyfields moved.

  Simon placed each hand on a pistol. “Did you hear me? I want you to take your women and get the hell out of here.”

  Jacob Coyfield sighed, then pointed a thick finger at Cole. “See what your loose tongue has done? Gone and set him off. And we wanted this to go without a hitch.”

  Simon’s irritation mounted. “Wanted what to go without a hitch? If you really believe your son can have my wife, you’re a lunatic. Mount up and ride out.”

  “We can’t do that, friend,” Jacob said. “Much as it pains me to say so, we’ve taken a shine to your place. This cabin will make a fine home. There’s plenty of game and water. Everything a feller could want right at his fingertips. So we’re movin’ in and you’re movin’ out.”

  Anger bordering on rage seized Simon. Training a flintlock on Jacob and another on Samuel, he announced, “If you’re not on your way out of here within one minute, I’ll shoot you both. So help me God.”

  Samuel extended a palm. “Now, you just hold on, friend. Don’t do anything rash. We’ll sort this out soon enough.”

  “I’m not your friend and I never will be!” Simon fumed, furious that they sat there like bumps on a log, showing no fear of him or his guns. “And there’s nothing to sort out. Get up and go!”

  “Now, Pa?” Cole asked.

  “Not yet, boy. Ain’t you got the brains of a turnip? You’ll know when it’s time.”

  At that exact instant, inside the cabin a commotion arose. A plate shattered with a resounding crash. A chair upended. There was a low cry, then Felicity called out, “Simon! Simon! Help me!”

  Automatically, Simon whirled. He glimpsed his wife locked in a struggle with Cindy Lou and Mary Beth. He started to rush to her aid when iron hands seized him and he was thrown to the ground. He swung out, his right pistol connecting with a bearded face. Heavy bodies pinned him. His arms were violently pressed flat, his pistols rendered useless. A boot stomped onto his right hand, lancing pain clear up his arm. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out, then kicked at a pair of stout legs. One of the sons – was it Bo? – backed off, doubled in agony.

  “Hold him, you damn whelps!” Samuel shouted.

  “Can’t the four of you whip a measly Yankee?” Jacob demanded.

  Hands gripped Simon’s ankles. He was unable to move, except for his neck, which he craned to see into the cabin. His blood ran cold. Mabel Coyfield had the sharp edge of a butcher knife pressed against his wife’s tender throat. “No! Leave her alone, you bitch!”

  Simon never saw Jacob kick him. But he felt the blow on his left cheek, felt it down to his toes. Anguish ripped him, as much emotional as physical. Warm drops of blood trickled down over his jaw.

  “Don’t be talkin’ to my missus like that, Yank,” Jacob said harshly. “She’s got her flaws, but as womenfolk go she don’t give me much cause to complain. It was her idea to claim this valley for our own. A right smart idea it was, too.”

  Simon couldn’t care less about Mabel Coyfield. His sole interest was his wife. Felicity was being ushered outside, each of the daughters holding an arm. “Are you all right?” he asked, his numb tongue and puffy cheek distorting the words.

  “I’m unharmed,” Felicity responded. Except for a few bruises – and the hurt she felt inside, the regret at being so open and friendly when her intuition warned her something was amiss – that was true. What was it Winona King once said? “You can never let your guard down around strangers. They must earn your trust. Until they do, keep a weapon handy and have eyes in the back of your head.”

  Simon felt fingers prying at his, seeking to strip him of the pistols. He attempted to twist his arm to shoot and nearly screeched when someone gave his wrist a vicious wrench.

  “Let go of the guns, Yankee,” Cole said, hiking a foot, “or I’ll kick your teeth in and make you eat ’em.”

  Felicity tried to break free, but the two daughters were easily her match. “Do as he says, Simon. We don’t want to give them cause to do more than they already have.”

  Mabel Coyfield still held the butcher knife. “Oh, you needn’t worry about yourself, dearie. My boy Cole has his sights set on you. But your husband here ...” She stood over Simon and motioned as if hacking meat to bits.

  “No! You can’t!” Felicity attempted to take a step, but Cindy Lou and Mary Beth held her fast. Tears of outrage dampened her eyes, and she blinked to clear her vision. Something else Winona had told her sprung unbidden into her mind: “When you are in danger, try to stay calm. Lose your head and you lose your life.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t do it here, Ma,” Jacob was saying. “It’s liable to upset Cole’s new gal something awful.”

  “Just so it gets done proper,” Mabel said. “Bury him good and deep so the varmints don’t dig him up like they did that last feller. We wouldn’t want anyone to find the grave. Then we’d have to light a shuck again, and I’m mighty tired of being on the run. The girls and me are sick to death of sleepin’ on the ground like dogs.”

  Jess Coyfield, who had a jagged scar above his left eye, glanced at his mother. “That body business weren’t my fault, Ma. I told Cole and Hap they didn’t bury that old codger far enough down, but they wouldn’t listen. What could I do?”

  Mabel turned with surprising speed for someone her size and slapped her youngest. “Quit your tattlin’. What’s done is done. We shook the law, didn’t we? We’re safe, and we’ve got us a new home. All’s well that ends well.”

  Felicity had gleaned enough to say, “You’ve done this before, haven’t you? Is this why you had to leave Arkansas? Someone caught on? It had nothing to do with a feud, did it?”

  “Oh, there was a feud, all right. The McEmy clan drove us out of Georgia with our tails between our legs. We ended up in Arkansas. It didn’t seem right we’d have to start over with nothin’ but the clothes on our backs, so we took a farmer’s house for our own. Told folks he’d sold it to us. But some people just won’t believe you even when you swear on a stack
of Bibles. A few got suspicious, started nosin’ around, and found the bodies of the farmer and his family.” Mabel grinned and gestured. “Here we are.”

  “You’re unspeakably evil,” Felicity said.

  “We just do what we have to in order to survive, dearie. Don’t take it personal.”

  Simon had been listening so intently, he forgot about Cole. A piercing pang in his shoulder reminded him.

  “For the last time, Yank. Let go of the pistols.”

  What else could Simon do? With great reluctance he relaxed his grip and both flintlocks were immediately snatched from his grasp. Tinder and Bo, Samuel’s boys, hauled him to his feet and Tinder looped a forearm around his neck. “So you won’t get frisky.”

  Samuel Coyfield was fingering the hilt of his own knife. “Let’s take him off and get it over with. I’d like to take a nap later, then sit a spell by the fireplace and whittle. I don’t want to have to get up and go out again.”

  Simon and Felicity looked into each other’s eyes. Felicity, clutching at straws, quickly said, “Kill my husband and it will be Arkansas all over again. Our neighbors are due by soon. Nate King won’t be fooled into thinking we’ve sold out, even if you hide me until he’s gone. He’ll come back with a small army of trappers and Shoshones and make you pay for your crimes.”

  Jacob and several of the sons chortled. “Think so, do you, sugar? Well, I’ll have you know we’ve already thought of that. My son Hap and Samuel’s son Vin have been spyin’ on Mr. King for the better part of a week. Same as we’ve been spyin’ on you. Soon as I send ’em word that we have everything under control here, they’re to rub out King and his family. Cole and you will move into the King cabin. You’ll have a place all your own. See? We’re not as heartless as you make us out to be.”

  Felicity racked her brain. “You think you have everything figured out, don’t you? But you’re wrong. I’ll bet you didn’t know Nate King’s wife is Shoshone. That he’s an adopted Shoshone. That her people pay them regular visits. The tribe will never believe they up and left.”

  “So? Nice bluff, but your husband done told us the Shoshones are the friendliest Injuns in all creation. They’ve never harmed a white man.”

  Simon interjected, “There’s always a first time. Especially if you’ve killed one of their people. And don’t forget. Nate King is widely known and widely respected. He gets a lot more visitors than we do. If the Shoshones don’t get you, the mountain men will. They tend to stick together, just like your clan.”

  Jacob spat tobacco juice on Simon’s left foot. “It won’t work, friend. We have our minds made up.”

  Mabel was scratching her triple chin with the tip of the butcher knife. “Hold on, Pa. The damn city boy might have a point. The Kings have been here a lot longer. Maybe wipin’ them out ain’t such a good idea.”

  Cole took exception. “But you said I could have my own place, Ma. You said. Me and the filly here. Just the two of us. You promised. You did.”

  “Hush!” Mabel hissed. “You’re worse than Jess.” She gnawed on her fleshy lower lip a bit. “I think we should play it safe. We’ll hold off on killin’ the Kings, and on buryin’ this Yankee, until we’ve talked it over. There has to be a way to do this without havin’ the stinkin’ Shoshones and trappers down on our heads. There just has to.”

  That ended the discussion. Cindy Lou and Mary Beth were ordered to take Felicity back inside. The boys were instructed what to do with Simon, and five minutes later Simon found himself being staked out in the high grass. Cole trained a pistol on him while Jess, Tinder, and Bo pounded long picket pins into the ground, then tied him spread-eagled.

  “I want you to know something, Yankee,” Cole said when they were done. “I’m lookin’ forward to makin’ wolf meat of you. Almost as much as I’m lookin’ forward to gettin’ my paws on that female of yours. When I’m done with her, she won’t miss you one little bit.”

  Simon had never hated anyone as much as he hated Cole Coyfield. “Touch her and you’ll die. Each and every one of you.”

  Jess laughed. “You’ve got it backwards, mister. You’re the one who’s going to be worm food before too long.”

  Both sets of brothers departed. Simon tested the ropes around his wrists and ankles. They were so tight, he couldn’t move his limbs. Stretching his neck, he sought to sink his teeth into the knots, but they were well out of reach. He was totally helpless, at the mercy of the Coyfields. Or whatever else might happen by.

  Simon tried not to think of his darling Felicity, alone in the cabin with the clan of cutthroats. He couldn’t bear to picture Cole’s filthy hands on her. His only hope was to pray someone else came along. He would call out, warn them, urge them to reach Nate King and enlist help.

  Simon had never been an advocate of scalping, but he would love to see Coyfield scalps adorning a Shoshone lodge or two.

  A shadow fell across him. Cole Coyfield smirked and sank onto a knee. In Cole’s hand was one of the washcloths Felicity had brought all the way from Boston. “Ma sends her regards. She sent me to gag you.”

  Six

  Zachary King fought like a wildcat against a bear, pitting his wiry sinews and agility against his bearded adversary’s greater bulk and raw power. The man had bowled him over and was astride his chest, a hand clamped on Zach’s wrist to hold the pistol at bay while the other hand sought to bury a gleaming blade in Zach’s chest. Zach had his own fingers locked around the man’s arm to prevent the knife from descending, but his attacker had the advantage of being on top and outweighed him by a good fifty pounds. Inch by inch the knife dipped ever closer. In another few seconds the unyielding steel would embed itself.

  Straining every muscle, Zach heaved upward, seeking to throw the man off. But his foe wouldn’t budge. Zach’s next gambit was to sweep a knee up into the skulker’s back, once, twice, three times. At the third blow, the man snarled like a beast and shifted forward to avoid being kneed again.

  For a few moments the stranger was off balance. Zach capitalized by heaving upward again and succeeded in partially bucking the man off. It enabled Zach to twist onto his side and gain more leverage. The knife, though, was a finger’s width from Zach’s buckskin shirt. He applied all the strength in his shoulders and arms to stave off the inevitable.

  The man hissed like a serpent, spittle flecking his beard, his eyes pools of raving bloodlust. A vein on his temple bulged as he brought his entire weight to bear.

  It was then that Louisa caught up with them. She had a pistol out and cocked. Planting herself, she pointed it. “That’s enough! Get off him! Or by all that’s holy, I’ll shoot!”

  The man glanced up.

  So did Zach. He saw Louisa eight feet away, then spotted someone else, off to the left of her. Fright almost paralyzed his tongue, “Lou! Look out! There’s the other one!”

  Louisa rotated, the motion saving her life. A rifle boomed. A lead ball that would have torn through her brain instead missed by a fraction, buzzing past her ear. She snapped off a shot of her own, but she was stumbling sideways and missed.

  The man who had fired was on horseback, the reins to another horse across his leg. He snatched them up while spurring his mount forward. Both horses bore down on Lou like stampeding buffalo. She had to fling herself into brambles to avoid being trampled.

  Meanwhile, the stocky man on top of Zach jumped to his feet. He kicked at Zach’s face, but Zach rolled out of harm’s way. A long bound brought the man to the riderless mount as it flashed past. Gripping the saddle horn, he swung onto the saddle. Both riders bent low and raced into the trees.

  Zach surged erect and took hasty aim. Unfortunately, limbs and trunks intervened. He would waste the shot. Giving chase was his only recourse, but his horse was at the cabin. By the time he got there and back, the pair would be long gone. Stamping a foot at being thwarted, he tensed when a warm hand was placed on his neck.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m mad enough to chew rocks and spit pebbles.”
Zach lowered his pistol and shoved it under his belt.

  Lou was the opposite. She was overjoyed he was unhurt. Their peril had fanned the spark of her love into an inferno. She desired to embrace him, hold him close, smother him with fiery kisses. Instead, she simply said, “I was so afraid.”

  Misunderstanding, Zach replied, “There was no need to be. I’d never let anything happen to you.” He faced her. She radiated love as the sun radiated light, the splendor of her gaze reminding him of the question he had been about to ask when the stranger appeared. He would have to ask it later, in a more romantic setting.

  Lou was intensely disappointed when Stalking Coyote turned and began to scour the grass. She had been sure he was going to take up where they had left off. “What are you looking for?”

  “The man’s rifle. I think he had one when I first saw him. He must have set it down so he could kill me with the knife. Less noise that way. Pa wouldn’t hear and come on the run.” Zach moved toward a tree near where the stranger had pounced. Propped against it on the other side was a fine Kentucky. “See? I knew it.”

  Lou didn’t share his delight. She was too depressed. She would rather have the proposal. As he bent his legs toward the lake she fell into step beside him.

  “Thank you for coming along when you did,” Zach said. “I might have been a goner if you hadn’t.”

  “I’d never let anything happen to you, either.”

  Zach grasped her hand. Presently, they came to the shore and he bore to the right. Seeing the boulders on which they had sat, he stopped. He had changed his mind. Why wait until later on? There was no time like the present. “Lou, there’s something I need to say before—”

  Louisa held her breath in anticipation. She would say “Yes”! She would hug him close and shout it at the top of her lungs so it echoed off the mountains. It would be a moment she treasured, one she would recall fondly in her twilight years. The day that changed her life forever.