Cooper (The Landon Saga Book 3)

by Tell Cotten

  My mood instantly improved. But then Stew Baine crossed my mind, and I frowned in thought.

  “How did Stew escape?” I asked.

  Sergeant Wagons’ face turned red.

  “There was a fire.”

  “The jail burned down?”

  “No, that old barn down the street burned down.”

  I made a small groaning sound and shook my head.

  “Don’t tell me you fell for that ‘the ol’ barn is on fire’ routine.”

  Sergeant Wagons didn’t answer, but the look on his face told me all that I needed to know.

  “Does Yancy know?” I asked.

  “No, I haven’t seen Yancy since they left Midway.”

  “And when was that?”

  “Three days ago.”

  I was startled by his remark.

  “You got here in three days?” I asked.

  “I never stopped,” Sergeant Wagons admitted. “I even rode through the night. Then these Injuns jumped me. I tried to outrun them, but my horse collapsed.”

  “I wonder why,” I said dryly.

  “He seemed tired.”

  “Yes, I imagine he was,” I snorted.

  Sergeant Wagons didn’t reply. Instead, he just looked down at the ground.

  It fell silent as I thought on things. There was a lot to sort through, and I took my time.

  “This changes things,” I finally said. “Yancy won’t quit looking for us, so we can’t leave the mountains until we find him.”

  Josie didn’t like that, and she frowned.

  “These mountains are sure getting crowded,” I commented. “Yancy and Rondo, Stew, Wade, and a bunch of Injuns.”

  “Soon as they hear that Stew escaped, it wouldn’t surprise me if those two marshals show up too,” Sergeant Wagons said.

  “What two marshals?” I asked, confused.

  “Two territory marshals rode into town looking for Stew on the day he escaped,” he explained.

  I frowned suspiciously and asked, “Do you remember their names?”

  “Lee and Brian,” he said. “I can’t recall their last names.”

  A surprised jolt passed through me.

  “Lee Mattingly and Brian Clark?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that’s it!” Sergeant Wagons nodded. “Do you know them?”

  “Some.”

  “They seemed very talented.”

  For some reason, I almost smiled. But then I thought of how Yancy would react, and the smile left.

  “So, what do we do now?” Sergeant Wagons asked.

  “We’ll find Yancy and Rondo,” I replied.

  “How?”

  “Not sure yet,” I said, and I glanced at Sergeant Wagons’ dead horse. “You need a horse. There’s three dead Injuns out there, and luckily you only killed one horse. Should be two horses left. Go get one.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sergeant Wagons said.

  “Do you have another shirt?” I asked.

  “What?” Sergeant Wagons looked confused.

  “That red shirt of yours can be seen for miles.”

  He looked down at his shirt, and his face turned red.

  “I have another one in my saddlebags,” he said quietly.

  “Good,” I said. “Before we leave, you change it.”

  Sergeant Wagons nodded and left, and I looked at Josie.

  “Got any suggestions on how to find Yancy?” I asked.

  Josie pinched her face in thought.

  “There is a white man’s cabin,” she announced, “a few hours’ ride from here. Mebbe they look for us there?”

  “Wouldn’t hurt to look,” I figured. “Can you take us?”

  Josie nodded.

  “Good,” I said, and then I frowned. “I can’t believe we lost our pelts again.”

  “We catch more,” Josie suggested. “Later.”

  I grunted in displeasure as I thought on that.

  “I reckon I’m just one of them hopeless romantics,” I complained. “’Cause to me, it just won’t be the same without those pelts.”

  “You are not,” Josie shook her head, “hopeless romantic.”

  “I’m not?” I asked, surprised.

  “You are stubborn.”

  I frowned, and then I chuckled.

  “Shucks, everybody knows that,” I said.

  Chapter thirty-four

  It was early afternoon by the time Wade’s bunch found the Apaches’ camp.

  No Worries, the Apache war chief, had a growing reputation. He was wildly passionate in battle, and he led his band with a ruthless recklessness. He believed that he, not Geronimo, would soon be war chief of all the Apaches. And then, only he would control the Apache destiny.

  He hated all whites, and Jeremiah was concerned about this. However, Jeremiah also knew that they were needed. No Worries wanted rifles, and they had a steady supply.

  The Apache camp was quite a sight. It was nestled down in a valley beside a river, and there were hide-covered houses pitched along the bank. Women, children, and dogs were all about, and there was plenty of laughter and chatter.

  The horses were on the other side of the river. It was a big herd, and they saw several Indian boys a-horseback keeping watch.

  They were spotted as they rode closer. Dogs barked, children and women ran for cover, and the Indian braves grabbed weapons. Altogether, it was quite a commotion.

  “Easy boys,” Wade said softly.

  Choc and Floyd looked worried, but they managed to nod back. Meanwhile, Jeremiah searched for No Worries, and they pulled up when they were about thirty feet away.

  A line of braves formed in front of them, and they could see hatred in their eyes.

  “Talk to them, Jeremiah,” Wade said. “Tell them who we are.”

  Jeremiah rode forward a bit and started talking. The braves listened, but no one replied.

  It got very quiet, and Wade swallowed uneasily.

  Finally, a stirring began from behind the braves.

  An Indian brave was making his way towards them, and the other braves stepped aside and let him pass.

  He was tall for an Apache, standing at nearly six feet. He was very tan, and he had black hair with a muscled torso.

  A scowl was on his face. Jeremiah talked to him, but he didn’t acknowledge him.

  He studied Wade, and then he looked at the mule. After that he turned abruptly and walked back towards camp.

  “Is that No Worries?” Wade asked Jeremiah.

  “That’s him.”

  “What happens now?”

  “I reckon we follow,” Jeremiah replied.

  Staying a-horseback, they trailed after him. The other Apaches let them pass, and they lined up on both sides.

  Everyone was uneasy, but there was no turning back now.

  No Worries walked to his lodge. He sat by a fire, and he motioned for them to join him.

  They dismounted, and Wade and Jeremiah walked over and sat across the fire from him.

  “Break out that whiskey,” Wade told Choc, and he turned to Jeremiah. “Tell him we apologize for being late. And, tell him these jugs of whiskey are our gift.”

  While Jeremiah talked, Choc and Floyd passed out the jugs of whiskey. A jug was offered to No Worries, but he waved it away.

  No Worries stood and talked harshly. Jeremiah listened carefully and turned to Wade.

  “He says he can’t fight with whiskey. He wants rifles.”

  Wade smiled and nodded.

  “All right, let’s show him the rifles,” he said.

  Choc and Floyd unloaded a crate and opened it. Choc gave a rifle to Wade, and Wade offered it to No Worries.

  No Worries grabbed the rifle and handled it, and he gave a satisfied grunt.

  “Tell him we have a steady supply,” Wade said.

  Jeremiah told him, and No Worries grunted again and started talking.

  Jeremiah turned to Wade when he was through.

  “What do you want for the rifles?” He asked.

  Wade s
tarted to reply, but suddenly his eyes grew wide. There, tied to a tree beside No Worries’ lodge, was Cooper Landon’s mule! He also noticed the pack of pelts on the mule’s back.

  Wade was stunned, and he stared at the mule in confusion. Choc and Floyd saw the mule too, and they were just as stunned.

  “What’s the matter?” Jeremiah studied them.

  “That mule,” Wade stammered. “Where did it come from?”

  Jeremiah frowned disapprovingly.

  “We’re in the middle of a trade,” he reminded. “Now’s not the time for chitchat.”

  “Ask him!” Wade hissed.

  Jeremiah scowled, but he still turned to No Worries and talked.

  No Worries listened and then replied. It was a long answer, and he waved his arms wildly.

  “He says a war party rode in right before we got here,” Jeremiah explained. “Sounds like they had a big fight.”

  “What happened to the man that owned that mule?” Wade asked.

  Again, it was a long talk.

  “He ain’t offering too many details,” Jeremiah said. “He just keeps saying that it was a grand fight with a white man.”

  “Do you think they killed him?”

  “I’d say so,” Jeremiah replied, and he added impatiently, “Why does it matter?”

  Wade felt a wave of excitement. He almost laughed, but then he remembered where he was. However, he couldn’t stop the big grin that spread across his face.

  “That’s your friend Cooper’s mule,” he explained.

  Surprise showed in Jeremiah’s face.

  “Tell No Worries that he was a great enemy,” Wade continued. “Tell him I’m honored to know that his braves killed him in a grand fight.”

  Jeremiah looked upset, but he still told No Worries. Afterwards, No Worries grunted and nodded at Wade.

  “I want those pelts,” Wade declared. “Tell him I’ll trade these two crates of rifles. And, I’ll deliver four more crates of rifles and ammunition for more pelts.”

  Jeremiah told him, and No Worries replied.

  “It’s done,” Jeremiah said. “We can take the pelts, but he wants us to come back today with the rest of the rifles. In the meantime, they’ll get more pelts gathered up.”

  “Good,” Wade smiled.

  “He also wants to switch mules,” Jeremiah added. “Says he doesn’t like this one.”

  “We’ll take him,” Wade agreed, and he looked at Floyd. “Get that mule, son.”

  Floyd walked over to the mule. He untied him and tried to lead him away, but the mule pinned his ears and kicked at him.

  This caused all of the braves to erupt in laughter.

  Floyd glared at them, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he yanked hard on the mule’s lead rope, and the mule finally allowed him to lead him over to his horse. He mounted up and nodded at Wade.

  Everybody else got mounted, and Wade looked at Jeremiah.

  “Tell him we’ll be back,” he said.

  Jeremiah told him, and No Worries grunted back.

  They left the Indian camp in a walk, and as soon as they reached the outskirts they kicked up their horses to a trot. But the mule fought with Floyd, so they had to slow back down to a walk.

  They rode out of the valley, and the Indian camp disappeared behind them.

  Only then did everyone relax.

  “Choc, get behind that mule and encourage him a little,” Wade said. “We’ll run out of daylight if we don’t hurry.”

  “Yes, Pa.”

  Choc pulled his rope off his saddle, and he circled in behind the mule while Floyd tried to lead him. He tapped him on the rump with the rope, and the mule kicked at him.

  “This is one stubborn mule, Pa,” Choc said.

  “That’s probably why the Apaches didn’t want him,” Wade grinned.

  “I reckon those Injuns killed Cooper for us, Pa!” Choc changed the subject.

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Jeremiah spoke up.

  “Why not?” Wade looked at him.

  “Just because it was a grand fight doesn’t mean that Cooper is dead,” Jeremiah replied. “I got the feeling that No Worries wasn’t telling me everything.”

  “How else could those Injuns have these pelts unless Cooper was dead?” Wade argued.

  “I’m not sure,” Jeremiah admitted.

  “You’re just upset ’cause your childhood friend is dead,” Wade scoffed, and Choc and Floyd laughed.

  Jeremiah frowned but didn’t reply as they walked on.

  Chapter thirty-five

  I found out real quick that I was in worse shape than before.

  Every step my horse took jarred my insides, but I kept quiet as I followed Josie.

  Sergeant Wagons brought up the rear on his skittish Indian pony. The pony was not used to a saddle, and Sergeant Wagons had already gone for a bronc ride. Even now, he still had a hard time keeping him under control.

  We reached the cabin midafternoon.

  It was a small cabin that was nestled among several trees. Beside the cabin was a small corral made of logs and also a lean-to.

  Josie stopped her horse and sat up in the saddle.

  “Somebody there,” she pointed.

  I pulled up beside her, and it was silent as we studied the cabin.

  There was a horse and two mules in the corral, and there was also a wisp of smoke coming from the cabin.

  “Yancy?” Josie asked hopefully.

  I shook my head and said, “No, I don’t recognize the horse.”

  “Maybe it’s Stew!” Sergeant Wagons exclaimed.

  “Keep your voice down!” I hissed.

  Sergeant Wagons gave me a hurt look, but I ignored him as I thought on things.

  “Stew wouldn’t be traveling with mules,” I finally said. “But, Wade Davis would.”

  “We go around?” Josie suggested.

  “No, we’ll ride down there and have a look,” I replied. I pulled out my Henry and looked at Josie. “You stay here. Any shooting starts, jump down and hunt some cover.”

  Josie looked worried, but she managed to nod.

  “Wagons, I ain’t expecting much outta you,” I looked at him. “Just try to stay on your horse.”

  Sergeant Wagons frowned but didn’t reply.

  “Let’s go,” I said, and I kicked up my dun.

  While Josie watched, I rode up in front of the cabin and pulled up. My rifle was loaded and cocked, and I held it ready.

  Sergeant Wagons maneuvered his horse up beside mine. He tried to pull his rifle out, but his horse snorted and blew sideways.

  I scowled at him and made a motion to be quiet, and Sergeant Wagons fought with his horse as he nodded back.

  In the corner of my eye, I noticed four crates under the lean-to. There were also a few jugs of whiskey beside them.

  It was then that I heard somebody snoring. It came from inside, and it was loud and steady.

  I glanced once more at Sergeant Wagons, and with a lot of effort I painfully dismounted.

  I walked to the door and gently pushed it open. The snoring never stopped, so I stepped inside.

  Everything was dusty, and there were cobwebs hanging in the corners. There was also a table and a few chairs in the middle of the room.

  Lying in the corner by the fireplace was a young man. He was sound asleep on his back, and his hat rested over his face.

  “Hey,” I said abruptly.

  He didn’t move.

  Meanwhile, Sergeant Wagons had managed to dismount, and he came up behind me.

  “Hey,” I said louder.

  This time, he stirred.

  His hat fell to the floor while he rubbed his eyes, and then he spotted us. He was startled, but before he could react I pointed my rifle at him.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” I warned.

  “Don’t shoot!” He pleaded.

  “I won’t, unless you give me reason to,” I replied, and asked, “What’s your name, son?”

  He hesitated, but then
replied, “I’m Brett.”

  “You alone, Brett?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But my boss should be coming back soon.”

  “And who is that?”

  “Wade Davis.”

  “I figured as much,” I nodded.

  “Who are you?” Brett asked.

  “Cooper Landon,” I said, and Brett’s eyes grew wide.

  “You’re the one who–!”

  “Yes, I’m the one,” I interrupted.

  “Are you Yancy?” Brett looked at Sergeant Wagons.

  Sergeant Wagons beamed with pleasure while I scowled.

  “No, he ain’t Yancy,” I replied, and then I changed the subject. “What’s Wade up to?”

  A hesitant look crossed Brett’s face, and I frowned.

  “You’d best tell me, son, before I lose my patience,” I warned.

  Brett eyed me, and then he sighed.

  “He’s trading with the Apaches,” he told me.

  “Trading what?”

  “Rifles.”

  “Are there rifles in those crates outside?” I asked.

  Brett nodded, and it fell silent as I thought on things.

  Innocent lives would be lost if those rifles made it to the Apaches. And, even though I was in bad shape, I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “Wagons, go pack those mules with the rifles,” I said. “Leave the whiskey.”

  “What? Why?” He looked at me.

  “Because we’re taking those rifles with us,” I replied patiently.

  “Oh. Yes, sir,” Sergeant Wagons said, and then he left.

  “Now,” I looked at Brett. “I want you to walk outside, real slow like.”

  “You’re going to kill me?” Brett asked, fear in his eyes.

  “I already told you I wouldn’t unless you give me reason,” I replied. “Now move.”

  Brett grabbed his hat, stood, and moved towards the door. I followed at a safe distance.

  I looked around when we got outside, and I frowned irritably.

  “Looking for something?” Brett asked as he watched me.

  “Cactus,” I explained.

  Brett’s eyes grew wide, and I gestured at the corrals.

  “I reckon that corner post will do,” I said.

  Before I could change my mind, Brett hurried over and sat beside the thick corner post.

  I kept my rifle on him while I pulled out some rope from my saddlebags, and I skillfully tied his hands to the corner post. Sergeant Wagons, meanwhile, packed the mules, and we finished at the same time.