Meadowlark

by Carolyn Lampman

  He sighed in defeat. “Try to understand, Becky.”

  “Oh, I understand all right. Your stupid pride is more important to you than your wife and daughter.”

  Garrick went still as death. “Without his pride, a man has nothing.”

  “Then, by all means, save your pride.” She pushed his hand away and tried not to notice when it fell with a soft thump behind her. “I hope it keeps you warm at night.”

  Her words were like a knife in his heart. Anger slashed through him with vicious intensity. Reject him, would she? Garrick threw back the covers and got up.

  He was dressed in a few quick movements and headed for the door. There was no reason to stay here. He could just as easily sleep in his shop tonight. That way, he and Ox could get an earlier start in the morning. He resisted the urge to glance toward the bed as he slammed out of the house.

  Becky was regretting her hasty words before he was even halfway down the path.

  It was the longest three weeks of Garrick’s life. Normally, he would have enjoyed the spring weather and Ox’s company, but not this time. It wasn’t even the scare he’d had in Rock Springs when he’d almost run smack into Marshal Daniel Dutton that kept invading his thoughts. All he could think of as they traveled the circular route was Becky and the way he’d left her. They were on the final leg of the journey at last. They would be in South Pass City by late afternoon.

  “Sure hope the army’s right about the Indians,” Ox was saying. “Seems kind of hard to believe they’re still in their winter hunting grounds with the snow melting in the high country so early this spring.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’ll admit I like the freedom to come and go as I please, but I keep looking over my shoulder. Haven’t seen sign of anybody white or red.”

  “Mmm.”

  Ox glanced at Garrick out of the corner of his eye. “Of course, I’m kind of looking forward to seeing Red Cloud next time. He said I could marry his oldest daughter as long as I promised to go to the wedding stark naked and dye my hair blue.”

  “Ja.”

  Ox laughed and clapped Garrick on the shoulder. “Dammit, Swede, you could at least pretend to be interested.”

  “Sorry.” Garrick grinned sheepishly. “Got something on my mind.”

  “The beautiful Becky, no doubt. Can’t say that I blame— What the hell? That sounds like rifle fire.”

  Garrick stopped the wagon and listened intently. “It’s coming from over that way.”

  “Indians.”

  “Could be. Sounds like someone’s in trouble. We’d better go check it out.”

  “Yup.”

  Ox reached into the back and pulled his rifle from the scabbard as Garrick turned the wagon off the road. It took less than ten minutes to reach the spot. The rifle fire was coming from a box canyon about half a mile from the main road. Garrick secured the mules, then both men cautiously crawled to the cliff edge and peered over. A small band of Indians, obviously drunk, cavorted around a wagon, shooting rifles into the air.

  “Damn, looks like a bunch of renegades.” Ox said.

  Garrick gave him a puzzled look. “How can you tell?”

  “A war party would have posted lookouts. They’re too drunk to even think of it. Besides, there’s a couple of ‘em look like half-breeds.”

  “That’s an army wagon,” Garrick said, narrowing his eyes against the glare of the sun. “I wonder if that’s where the rifles came from.”

  “Good chance of it. Probably the whiskey too. It’s against regulations, but occasionally a soldier sneaks it in anyway.” He shook his head. “Whoever it was paid a high price for breaking the ru— Jesus, Swede, look at that.”

  Garrick peered down at the back wagon curiously. At first, he could see nothing unusual in the area Ox pointed to. Then his eyes focused on one of the wheels as a sudden flash of movement caught his eye. “It’s a white man,” he said, staring at the captive tied to the wagon wheel.

  “We can’t just leave the poor devil there.”

  “No.”

  Ox checked the chamber of his rifle. “I suppose you noticed we’re a little out-numbered.”

  “Ja,” Garrick rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “but I think I might know of a way to even the odds.”

  Chapter 23

  “What we need is a distraction,” Garrick said as they crawled back from the edge of the cliff and headed toward the wagon.

  Ox looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Don’t you think it would be better if we figured out a way to sneak in and out? Maybe we can get him out without them noticing.”

  “We’d have to wait for dark, and who knows if he’ll still be alive by then. Can’t figure out why they haven’t killed him anyway. Looks like he’s the only one left.”

  “I don’t know. Some of them have a pretty nasty sense of humor. It’s hard to say what they have planned for him.” Ox grinned suddenly when he realized Garrick was pulling a keg of black powder out of the wagon. “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Probably because you’re not a powder man. Grab that roll of fuses and we’ll see if we can’t rig up a little surprise for our friends down there.”

  “We’d better come up with a way to keep them from following us,” Ox said as Garrick pried the lid off the powder. “There’s no way my mules will ever out-run those savages.”

  “I think I have that figured out too. Are any of your mules broke to ride?”

  “One.”

  “Good. He may mean the difference between this working and not.”

  Garrick explained his plan while he carefully measured the black powder and poured it into paper cartridges.

  “By God,” Ox said when he was finished, “it just might work.”

  “I hope so. Without my tools, I can’t be positive these cartridges are accurate. Of course, with this it’s the timing that’s most important, and I can measure the fuses exactly.”

  “I’ll go unhitch the mule.”

  An hour later, everything was in place. Garrick slunk along the rock wall at the mouth of the canyon, keeping to the shadows as he worked his way closer to the wagon. The Indians paid little attention to their captive, and none to guarding their position. Up close, Garrick could see Ox was probably correct in thinking it was a band of renegades. There were several half-breeds and even a few whites in the motley group. All of them were drunk and interested only in the whiskey and guns.

  At last, he was as close as he could get without leaving the relative safety of the rock wall. The thirty-foot distance between him and the wagon was far too open for his liking. The only cover was a sparse growth of sagebrush along the canyon floor.

  Without taking time to think about it, Garrick hit the ground and crawled. After an eternity of scrambling over dirt, rocks, and cactus, he reached the back of the wagon and took shelter underneath. Though he was no safer than he had been a moment before, he felt a surge of relief as the shadow of the wagon fell over him.

  A few more feet and he was directly behind the prisoner. The renegades had taken everything but his drawers, leaving the man dangerously exposed to the elements. His skin was turning red from the sun, and his head had fallen forward on his chest. It was impossible to tell if he was sleeping or passed out.

  If it was the latter, they were in trouble. Garrick knew he’d never be able to carry the other man and make it back through the mouth of the canyon in time. Reaching through the spokes of the wheel, he gave the captive’s shoulder a slight squeeze. “Wake up,” he whispered.

  The man’s head came up with a jerk, and Garrick tightened his grip in warning. “Shhh, don’t make any sound. I’m here to get you out. Are you hurt?”

  The prisoner slowly shook his head. If anyone had glanced their direction, the movement would have looked completely innocent.

  “Good, I’m going to cut your ropes, but don’t move yet. In a few minutes all hell is going to break loose, and we’ve got to be ready to run. Surprise is the only thing we’ve go
t going for us.” As the man gave a nod of understanding, Garrick pulled his knife and slashed through the ropes around the wagon wheel.

  Garrick winced when he saw the deep cuts the bonds had made in the man’s wrists. As tightly as they’d been tied, the circulation had been cut off. If his feet were the same way, he was going to have a tough time running.

  Using the other man’s legs as a shield, Garrick crawled out from under the wagon in order to cut the rope around the prisoner’s feet. Sure enough, the toes were slightly blue. As he cut the ropes, Garrick prayed they’d have a few minutes before the first charges went off.

  At that moment, the boom of cannon fire echoed from the far end of the canyon, and revelry sounded from the rim above them.

  “That’s our signal.” Dragging the other man along with him, Garrick scrambled to his feet and headed toward the bottleneck that led out of the canyon. As the Indians headed for their horses, they didn’t even notice the two white men running for the mouth of the canyon.

  Cannon fire continued sporadically behind them and Garrick thanked providence that the other man was tall and muscular. Despite the injuries from the ropes, his strong legs kept him moving, and he was tall enough to drape an arm across Garrick’s shoulders. With Garrick half carrying him, the man was able to keep up with the big Norwegian’s long-legged stride.

  Just as Garrick began to think they were going to make it, there was a shout behind them. A glance over his shoulder confirmed his worst fear: the Indians had discovered the prisoner’s escape. Five or six were giving chase while the others still milled around, looking for the army.

  Though Garrick wouldn’t have thought it possible, the two of them got an extra burst of speed from somewhere and cleared the canyon bottleneck just minutes ahead of their pursuers. “Hit the dirt!” he yelled and pulled the other man down with him.

  The words barely left his lips before an explosion rocked the ground beneath them. A second and then a third blast erupted from different spots along the cliff wall, sending tons of rock into the canyon below. Garrick sat up and watched as the chain of detonations continued back along the bottleneck of the canyon. There were five in all, then a pall of silence as the last of the rock settled into place.

  The former captive sat up and stared back the way they’d come. “What the hell?”

  Garrick held up his hand. “Seven, eight, nine, ten.” Suddenly, the air was rent with an ear-splitting blast as two huge charges on opposite sides of the canyon mouth went off. Garrick shielded his face as a smattering of dirt and gravel fell around them.

  “Do you think that last one was big enough, Swede?” Ox said with a grin as he joined the other two men a few moments later.

  Garrick eyed the rubble that filled the mouth of the canyon nearly to the top of what was left of the cliff. “I might have over done it a little.”

  Ox laughed. “A little! How do you suppose the army is ever going to get those poor beggars out of there to arrest them?”

  “I told you I wasn’t sure about the size of that last charge.” Garrick shrugged. “At least we shouldn’t have to worry too much about them coming after us.”

  “Not this year anyway.” Ox extended his hand to the stranger. “Ox Bruford’s the name, by the way, and you already met Swede.”

  “Cameron Price,” the stranger said, shaking hands with both of them. “I hardly know how to thank you.”

  “Swede’s the one you should be thanking. I didn’t do much more than light a few fuses.”

  “Let’s wait till we get to South Pass City before we congratulate ourselves,” Garrick said, heaving himself to his feet and heading toward the wagon. “It’s possible they could find a way out of there.”

  “The army will surely take care of them if they do,” Cameron said, limping after Garrick.

  Ox grinned. “You’re looking at the army.”

  “What?”

  “You just saw why Swede is considered the best powder man in South Pass City. He did the entire thing with black powder and fuses.”

  “But I heard cannons.”

  Garrick shook his head as he pulled his extra shirt out of his bedroll. “Small charges set to go off at irregular intervals with lots of smoke.”

  “What about the bugler?”

  Ox grinned. “That was me.”

  “That’s right,” Garrick said, glancing back over his shoulder. “I’d forgotten about that. For a minute there, I thought maybe we really had been rescued. I know you’re pretty resourceful, Ox, but where in heaven’s name did you find a bugle?”

  “Under the wagon seat. I didn’t think of it until you’d already left. I lit the fuses on the first charges, then high-tailed it back to the wagon and blew the reveille before getting the wagon down here to pick you both up. I was a bugler during the war, you know.”

  Cameron shook his head in amazement. “I’ll be damned. The Indians weren’t the only ones you had fooled.”

  “I just hope the mine owners in South Pass aren’t too angry because I used up most of their powder.” Garrick tossed a shirt and pair of pants to Cameron. “Here, these probably won’t fit too well, but they’ll come closer than Ox’s will. Sorry there aren’t any boots.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Thanks.”

  While Cameron dressed, Garrick and Ox re-hitched the mule Ox had ridden along the canyon rim and tightened the load on the wagon. Within a few minutes they were back on the road heading toward South Pass City.

  “What happened back there?” Ox asked Cameron after they were under way.

  “I’m not really sure. The last thing I remember was riding into an ambush. When I came to, I was tied to that wagon. I must have gotten hit in the head some way. I suppose the others were killed outright. Did you see anything on the trail?”

  “Nope, but then if they tried to run at all, the fight probably happened off the road a ways. A man might not even see something like that if he wasn’t looking for it.”

  “That’s true,” Cameron said. “I’ll have to send word to Fort Stambaugh as soon as we get to South Pass City. No doubt they’ll send a patrol to find out what happened and take care of what’s left of those renegades.”

  “This your first trip to South Pass City?” Garrick asked curiously.

  “No, I was here the better part of the winter a year ago.”

  “Maybe that’s why you look so familiar to me.” Garrick studied him pensively. “I could swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

  Ox chuckled. “Probably faced him across a poker table.”

  “That’s certainly possible,” Cameron agreed. “Do you play?”

  “Some.”

  “Some!” Ox laughed outright at that. “Swede plays poker the way he works powder. If you played him, you probably lost.”

  Garrick glanced at Cameron again. Had he played poker with the man? Possibly, and yet that didn’t seem right somehow. He was certainly a good-looking son of a gun. With honey-blond hair and eyes the color of a summer sky, he was likely more memorable to women than other men. Ah well, it would come to him.

  “So, what brings you back to South Pass City?” Ox was asking.

  “Business mostly, but there’s a personal reason too.”

  “A woman?”

  Cameron grinned a little sheepishly. “How did you know?”

  Ox shrugged. “There are only two things that will bring a man back to a place that isn’t his home. From the tone in your voice, it didn’t sound like you were thinking of revenge.”

  “Nope. In fact, I hope it comes to marriage.”

  “Sounds like you got bit pretty hard.”

  “A lot harder than I realized at first. I haven’t seen her for over a year, but I just can’t seem to get her out of my mind. When I was tied to that wagon, all I could think of were those big brown eyes and that I might never see her again.”

  Ox rolled his eyes. “Just my luck to get stuck with another love-sick-pup. Take Swede here. With him it’s his wife. He isn’t one to talk your
leg off anyway, but the last three weeks you’d dang near think the man was mute.”

  “You talk enough for both of us,” Garrick said with a grin.

  “Maybe so, but a man gets tired of talking to himself after a while.” He turned his attention back to Cameron. “Lots of coming and going in South Pass City. You sure this girl is still there?”

  “No, in fact it’s quite possible they’ve moved on. It’s just her and her father. He’s drunk more often than he’s sober and never sticks with one job for long. It may take every cent I’ve got, but I’m going to pay Fenton White to get out of her life.”

  Garrick felt as if a giant fist had slammed into his belly. With sick certainty, he knew why Cameron Price was so familiar: he saw those features every time he looked into his daughter’s face. The man he had just risked his life to save was the one person he’d hoped never to meet—Becky’s mysterious past lover and Alaina’s father.

  Chapter 24

  I’ll kill him Garrick’s hands tightened on the reins at the thought. This is the bastard that got Becky pregnant and walked away without a backward glance.

  “If you love her so much how come it’s taken you a year to get back to her?” Ox wanted to know.

  Cameron sighed. “My...business kept me away. Besides, I’m too old for her. She was only sixteen at the time.”

  Garrick gritted his teeth. You should have thought of that before you took her to bed.

  “I don’t know, she’s just one of those women you can’t forget.”

  Ox nodded. “Pretty huh?”

  “Yes, she’s beautiful, but it’s more than that. I never met a more sweetly giving person in my life. I’ve never been in love before. I didn’t know if I was ready for marriage.”

  Garrick nearly choked on the urge to let the man know what his selfish uncertainty had done to Becky. Telling the pompous ass that his ladylove was already married and to keep his lecherous hands off would be extremely satisfying.