Night Hawk

by Beverly Jenkins

  Maggie liked that. “Good girl. We don’t want this cretin taking us lightly.”

  When Ketchum was within shooting range, she yelled out, “That’s close enough, state your business!”

  The ugly disfigured face smiled and he kept coming. Maggie fired a shot that tore past him near enough to widen his eyes.

  “I said, close enough! What the hell do you want?”

  That got his attention. She could see him studying her in a new light. That pleased her immensely.

  “Heard somebody took a shot at your man last night. Mr. Draper sent me over to see if he needs help tracking the person who did it.”

  “Who told you he’d been shot at!” As far as she knew no one knew about last night outside of her and her men and the cowardly ambusher. She waited for Ketchum to answer.

  “Mr. Benton told Mr. Draper.”

  “Bullshit! Get off my land before you need the undertaker!”

  Maggie was two seconds away from blowing him out of the saddle. He might be a killer but he hadn’t drawn his gun, and she and her rifle were primed and ready.

  He raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, little lady. Tell him if he needs help he knows where I am.”

  Maggie didn’t reply, nor did she draw down. He tipped his hat and turned his horse towards the road. She watched grimly until he was out of sight and then a few minutes more to make sure he didn’t circle back. When she was finally convinced he’d not be returning, she drew down and dropped back onto the seat of the rocker. Her hands were trembling as she set the rifle down. Lightning nudged her and Maggie stroked her affectionately. “Guess we showed him, didn’t we, girl?”

  But even as she bragged, she knew he’d be back. He’d tested her mettle and lost. She sensed he’d be better prepared when next they met.

  Sound of rifle fire carries a long way across open land so when Ian and Charlie heard the faint report they both stopped. Gunmen also knew the sound and timbre of their personal weapons if they used them with regularity, and because Ian did there was no doubt in his mind that the rifle they heard was the one he’d left with Maggie. “Let’s go.”

  Wheeling their mounts around the men rode hell-bent back to the ranch.

  They arrived on the road to the house at a full gallop. From a distance they saw Maggie sitting on the porch. Ian was so happy to see her in one piece he didn’t notice Lightning until a moment later. Filled with both joy and consternation he slowed Smoke to a walk and gave Charlie a puzzled look. “Is she reading Lightning the paper?”

  Charlie laughed. “Looks like it from here.”

  Sure enough, when they reached the house, she set the paper aside and stood. “Welcome back. Catch anything?”

  Ian shook his head. Before he could ask her about the gunfire they’d heard, she said, “Funniest thing. I was out here eating breakfast and she walked up and joined me. She’s kept me company all morning.” She stroked the mare’s head. “Haven’t you, lady?”

  Ian and Charlie shared a look. “Did you fire the rifle?”

  “Yes. Pratt Ketchum paid a visit and we had to convince him to leave.”

  Ian’s jaw tightened. “Tell me what happened.”

  She did, and when she was done, Ian viewed her proudly through his anger.

  Maggie said, “I think he was here fishing for an answer as to how badly you’d been injured.”

  “You could be right.”

  “Or he could’ve been telling the truth. Either way it was clear he didn’t expect me to take a shot at him. Did he, girl?” she asked the mare.

  Ian looked over to see Charlie with a bemused look on his face. Ian felt the same way. Her run-in with Ketchum notwithstanding, that Lightning was beside her and acting like a tamed house cat was beyond his ken.

  Charlie asked her, “You think she’ll let you ride her?”

  “No idea.”

  “Would you like to try it?”

  She studied the mare for a moment and shook her head. “Let me wait until tomorrow. I want to see what she does for the rest of the day.”

  Charlie nodded. “I think we have us a natural-born horsewoman here, Ian.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” His shoulder was flaring up, but he knew better than to say anything aloud about the pain for fear his rifle-toting wife would banish him to the bed. Alone. “We’ll go unsaddle our horses.”

  She shot him a smile, and he and Charlie walked their mounts around to the back of the house.

  The mare followed Maggie around for the rest of the day. Maggie rewarded her with pieces of dried fruit, soft strokes down her pure white blaze, and even softer conversation. Maggie was amazed. Ian and Charlie were even more so.

  That evening as she and Ian lay in bed, Maggie asked, “What do you think Ketchum really wanted?”

  “Not sure. I wanted to go to Draper’s and ask, but Charlie convinced me otherwise. With this busted shoulder, I’d be no good in a fight of any kind.”

  She snuggled close. “I’m glad you listened. How’s it feel?”

  “Stiff and sore. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

  “Last night probably didn’t help.”

  He grinned. “Helped a lot, just not my shoulder.”

  “So you all didn’t find anything?”

  “Found some tracks but lost them eventually in the brush. Whoever it was was riding east.”

  “Is Draper’s place east?”

  “No, west and north of here.”

  “Ketchum rode in from the west. How did his face get that way?”

  “Acid. The mother of one of the women he killed threw it in his face during the trial.”

  “Were you there?”

  “Yes and I’m surprised he wasn’t blinded. Everyone just knew he would be. It was a pretty ugly sight.”

  She imagined it must have been. She saw Ian roll his injured shoulder and wince. “What’s wrong?”

  “Thing’s too tight. Charlie’s got me bound up like it’s broken.”

  “Do you want me to loosen it a bit?”

  “Please.”

  They sat up and she carefully removed his union suit so she could get at the bandage. Once she had it unwrapped she saw there was no blood on it, so the cauterization had done the job, but the skin around the wound was red and angry.

  “There’s ointment in that silver tin on the dresser.”

  She left the bed to get it and opened the lid. The smell wrinkled her nose. “What’s in this?”

  “Who knows. It’s one of Charlie’s mountain man concoctions, but it takes the sting out, so it works, whatever it is.”

  Maggie put a bit of the pale greasy stuff on her fingertip and slid it over the wound. She wiped the excess on the bandage and rewrapped the shoulder. She was kneeling behind him to fasten it with a pin the way Charlie had done and noticed all the marks and scars on Ian’s skin. “What are all these puckers?”

  “Bullet wounds.”

  “All of these?”

  He looked back at her shocked face. “Told you I’d been shot a lot.”

  “Ian, there have to be eight or nine of these. There’s one here, and here. What’s this?” she asked, fingering a long scar.

  He peered down. “Knife wound. I’ve a few of those also but not as many as bullet holes.”

  Maggie was speechless. “They don’t still hurt, do they?”

  “Sometimes, but it’s the price you pay when you live by the gun.”

  She thought about all the accumulated pain he must have endured, and then about the little curly-haired boy who’d been dragged from his bed. She placed her lips against each healed scar on his back, and then on the one behind his shoulder.

  He whispered, “What are you doing?”

  “Turning these into spots of love.”

  And as he sat, she continued to press kisses to all the places she could see. She flicked her tongue along the scars left by the knife wounds in his side and another that ran horizontally above his heart. With her fingers she tenderly tou
ched the long scar on his cheek, and placed a soft kiss there as well. Looking into his serious eyes, she kissed his lips to let him know that from that moment on she’d always be there to share his burdens and salve his hurts.

  The kisses deepened. He pulled her close and for the second night in a row, Maggie was treated to a long night of love by her one-armed man.

  Over the next few days, Ian continued to heal and Lightning showed up each morning to follow Maggie around like a besotted puppy.

  The night after that, Charlie came around to the front porch where Ian and Maggie were sitting talking and said, “There’s a fire west of us, looks like the Jeffers’ place.”

  “Get the horses,” Ian said, rising to his feet. He hurried inside to get his gun belt, rifle, and jacket.

  By the time he returned, Charlie was back. Ian set the rifle beside Maggie, gave her a kiss, and they rode out.

  It was the Jeffers’ place. The barns were fully engaged and flames rose greedily towards the sky. Jeffers was an old man, and having lost his herd to last winter’s blizzard he’d had to let his ranch hands go. As a result he and his wife were doing their best to fight the blaze alone. The fire was winning. Ian grabbed the full bucket of water from Mrs. Jeffers’s hand. There were tears streaming down her soot-stained face but he had no time to offer consolation. He ran the bucket to the barn and splashed it against the burning door. The horses trapped inside were screaming. He spent a few precious moments trying to find a way in to save the terrified animals but the heat was too intense, so he ran back across the field to where Charlie was working the pump like a madman. It seemed an eternity before the water rose to the top. Once the iron bucket was full again, he sprinted as fast as he could back to the barn. His shoulder was in flames as well, but he ignored it and threw the water against the spot where he knew the horses were. He looked over and saw Harper beside him adding more water. There was no time to question his sudden appearance, there was too much to do.

  But in the end, they had to give up. Two lone men didn’t stand a chance against flames fed by the barn’s wooden frame and the bales of hay and straw within. The cries of the dying horses tore open Ian’s heart but neither he nor Harper turned away. Both stood there as if in tribute to the deaths and soon only the crackling roar of the flames remained.

  As they walked back to the house Ian spotted old man Jeffers seated on the steps of the porch. He was gasping for breath and his wife was offering water from a cup with a trembling hand. Charlie came out of their front door carrying two blankets and placed one around each.

  When the Jefferses were able to talk, Harper asked, “How’d it start?”

  Caleb Jeffers shook his balding head. “I couldn’t tell you. We were over in Casper visiting our daughter and the barns were blazing when we drove up.”

  Harper asked, “Any ideas on how it might have started?”

  “Course not. You think I’da left my stallions in a barn I knew was gonna burn down? Only way it could’ve caught fire was if somebody set it on fire.”

  Ian and Charlie shared a nonspeaking look.

  Olive Jeffers was known for speaking her mind. “If you ask me it was that Draper, or one of his guns. He came to see us the day before we left to see Julia over in Casper.”

  “Does he do that often?”

  “He’s stopped by a few times in the last month or so.”

  “Why?”

  She sniffed. “To offer us a loan. Said he wanted to help us get back on our feet. Then asked if we’d been having any trouble with our fences being cut. Caleb told him no.”

  Caleb took up the telling. “And he says to me that with all that’s been happening lately, maybe I should have a couple of his hands ride my perimeter and keep an eye on things. Like maybe I can’t shoot my own gun.”

  Olive added, “And we’d only have to pay him five bucks a month for the privilege of his protection.”

  Ian heard Harp sigh before saying, “Wish we had some solid proof.”

  Jeffers grumbled, “So do I. I loved those horses.” He wiped his hand hastily over his eyes to keep them from seeing his emotion.

  Ian was certain the screams would haunt everyone for some time.

  Charlie asked, “You two want me to take you over to Georgie’s for the night? You know she won’t mind.”

  “We’ll stay put,” Jeffers said. “I may be getting old but I’ve never run from a fight and I ain’t starting now.”

  Olive added, “Thank you boys for your help. We’ll be okay, but find some evidence, Sheriff, and get that skunk Draper out of here. This is God’s country, not a place for the devil.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll do my best.”

  They stayed until the fire was completely out, and then by the light of the moon used axes and pitchforks to turn over what was left of the smoldering rubble to make certain it didn’t flare up again. After adding more buckets of water to wet everything down, they waved good-bye to the couple and rode away.

  “I was on my way back to town when I saw the smoke,” Harper explained. “It’s sad that he had to lose those horses.”

  Ian agreed. “So what next?”

  “I’ll drop in on Draper. He’ll express his concern for the Jefferses, tell me he had nothing to do with it. I’ll threaten him and then leave. I know the scene by heart at this point.”

  “Tom Benton said he’s got Pinkertons sniffing out Draper.”

  “Let’s hope they find something, but until they do, how about we meet at my office and talk about putting together some protection of our own? I’m sure most of the men around here would volunteer to take turns night riding to keep an eye on things.”

  “Good idea.”

  Charlie said, “Count me in.”

  “Thanks. I have to go up to the court in Casper in the morning, so let’s make it day after tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to wait that long. I’ll be rounding up riders in the morning, that way when you get back, we’ll be ready to ride.”

  Harper agreed. With a wave good-bye, he rode on to town.

  Ian and Charlie rode for home guided by the moonlight.

  They returned to find Maggie rocking on the porch in the dark with the rifle across her lap. “Was anyone hurt?” she asked.

  Ian dismounted. “Jeffers lost his stallions.

  Charlie took Smoke’s reins and walked the two mounts around to the stables. Ian sat on the porch and told her the sad story. “Jeffers thinks Draper was behind it and so does Harp. He just can’t prove it.”

  “I hope he’ll be able to soon.”

  “So do I.” He then told her of their plan to form a night patrol. “I’ll be riding first thing in the morning.”

  Chapter 26

  After breakfast, Ian rode away on Smoke and Maggie stood on the porch until they disappeared. Since the night of the ambush she worried about him riding alone. He was a celebrated bounty hunter, a former gunslinger, and a United States deputy marshal; the man could undoubtedly take care of himself, but he was also her husband and the love of her life. As his wife, she was concerned about his safety.

  Charlie stepped out onto the porch and handed her a clean blanket. “Wrap this around yourself and wear it for a little while.”

  “Why?” It was far heavier than it looked.

  “You’re going to put it on your mare. If it has your scent, she might take to it better.”

  “We’re going to try and saddle her?”

  “May as well see.”

  Maggie agreed, so she placed the blanket around her like a wrap and sat in the rocker. It had become her favorite place to sit. She could view the endless sky, the snow-capped mountains, her newly planted lilacs; and savor the vast beauty that surrounded the place she now called home. She never wanted to leave Ian’s Wyoming. Since the day her parents died, her life had been one hardship after another. Had finding him been her reward for all she’d had to endure? It certainly felt that way. For the first time since being on her own, there was peace in her heart. She w
as scared to spend too much time dwelling on how wonderful her world had become for fear it might be snatched away, and she’d find herself clawing and scratching all over again, but she had a good life, and she was very thankful.

  The blanket had been around her shoulders for only a few minutes, but she felt like she was sitting inside a stove. “Charlie! How long do I have to wear this? I’m starting to melt!”

  He came to the door. “Give it a couple minutes more.”

  She shot him a look.

  “Okay, okay.”

  “Thank you.” She dragged it off. “Lordy.”

  He chuckled. “Come on, let’s go find her majesty. Here’s some carrots.”

  They walked out to the pasture. Jack appeared and was rewarded with carrots from Charlie. Lightning was nowhere to be seen, so Maggie stuck her fingers into the corners of her mouth and let a whistle fly into the silence. Seconds later Lightning came galloping to her side and instantly began to nudge Maggie’s neck.

  Charlie shook his head. “I still can’t get over this.”

  Maggie greeted the horse fondly. “Good morning, sweet pea. How are you?” Talking to her the entire time, she fed the mare a carrot, then unfolded the heavy blanket she was carrying. “Hold still now, honey and let me—”

  Lightning neighed and stepped away.

  “I just want to put this on you. It smells like me. See? Come give it a sniff.”

  The horse wanted no part of it, period. Maggie remained patient. She stepped closer. The mare stepped back. She glanced at Charlie. He shrugged.

  “Okay, honey. How about we—?”

  Lightning galloped away.

  Maggie said, “Guess that was a no.”

  “Guess so.”

  “I’ll try it again later.”

  But Lightning kept her distance for the rest of the day.

  In the days that followed the arson increased. Ian and his night riders did their best with the patrols, but with so many ranches spread out over such a large area, it was impossible to catch the arsonist in the act. Maggie saw very little of him because he slept by day and rode all night. The patrols had about as much success as Maggie had with Lightning, which was no success at all.