Red River Desperadoes

by James Reasoner

  Arlie bounded down from the porch, snagged Dirk's coat collar and shook his younger brother like a terrier shakes a rat. Leveling a finger at Landrum, Arlie roared, "Why the hell didn't you tell me this was the feller Claude had trouble with in town?"

  "Aw hell, let go, Arlie!" Dirk protested. "I told you I thought he looked familiar. I just didn't recollect where I'd seen him before."

  "Well, now you know," Arlie said disgustedly. "Claude come into the room, saw him, and went for his gun."

  Dirk's eyes widened in anger and fear. "Where's Claude?" he demanded, jerking loose from Arlie's grip and swiveling his rifle toward Landrum. "If he's killed Claude, I'll blow a hole right through the bastard!"

  Arlie grabbed the rifle barrel and pushed it aside. "Stop that, you damned fool! Claude's fine. Glidinghawk’s had the sense to jump him and knock him out when he tried to gun Mr. Davis here." Arlie frowned abruptly and turned toward the Omaha. "How'd you know to do that, Glidinghawk?"

  Glidinghawk took a deep breath. His pulse was slowing down to normal now, and the blood wasn't pounding quite so loudly in his head. He said, "I knew you were planning to do business with Mr. Davis. I didn't figure you wanted Claude to shoot him before you completed the deal."

  "Smart thinkin'," Arlie said, ignoring the sullen look Dirk gave him as he listened to the praise for the Indian. "Get back out there to the canyon, Dirk."

  When Dirk was gone, reluctantly, Landrum said, "I reckon I'd better drift. It's going to get dark before I get back to Truscott unless I start soon."

  "Sure, you go right ahead. When do you need that whiskey?"

  "Better hold off a little while," Landrum said. "I've got my financing coming in to the Truscott bank soon. I'll be in touch with you again when the funds have arrived."

  "That's fine," Arlie told him. "The boys know you now, you won't have no trouble gettin' in to see us."

  "Not even if Claude is on guard duty?" Landrum asked shrewdly. "I wouldn't want him to accidentally put a half-dozen Winchester slugs into me."

  "He won't," Arlie said, his voice hard as he handed Landrum back his gun. "I'll set Claude straight. Holdin' a grudge is one thing, business is another."

  Landrum swung onto his horse and touched the brim of his hat. "Be seein' you," he said.

  Glidinghawk had been listening to the conversation with great interest. Now he said to Arlie, "Wouldn't it be a good idea if I rode along with Mr. Davis to the other end of the canyon? You haven't had a chance to give Dirk any specific orders yet about letting Mr. Davis come and go."

  "Not a bad idea," Arlie agreed after thinking it over for a moment. "Saddle up a hoss and go with him. If Dirk gives you any trouble, you tell him to come see me about it later."

  Glidinghawk nodded and hurriedly threw his saddle on a horse. Landrum was waiting patiently when Glidinghawk rejoined him in front of the cabin.

  Arlie lifted a hand to wave in farewell. "Lookin' forward to doin' business with you, Mr. Davis," he called as the two men rode off.

  Glidinghawk kept his eyes to the front and didn't look at Landrum. But when they were out of earshot of the cabin and not yet close enough to the canyon for Dirk to hear them, Glidinghawk asked the question that had to be uppermost in their minds.

  "What the hell do we do now?"

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Landrum lifted a hand to rub his jaw and answered without turning his head. "Well, I reckon when we get to the other end of that canyon, we can both light out."

  "That won't work," Glidinghawk said flatly.

  Landrum pondered the point for a moment, then said, "No, it won't. They'd know something was wrong if you took off like that, and I don't like the idea of having to hightail it back to Truscott across that wasteland with a family of bushwhackers after us."

  "And even if we did get away, they'd be spooked then," Glidinghawk added. "They'd be liable to move deeper into the Brakes, and then the army would never be able to root them out."

  Landrum sighed heavily. "I don't like it, but I reckon you've got to stay out here for the time being."

  "That was my conclusion as well." Glidinghawk fell silent for a moment, then went on, "I like your story about wanting to open a saloon."

  "Thought of it while I was riding out here today," Landrum replied. "It seemed like the best reason to be looking for somebody who makes whiskey. I suppose the Moodys are the ones smuggling the stuff into the Nations."

  "They sure as hell are. They're in it with a supply sergeant named Foster up at Fort Supply. He's the one who recruited me to join the scheme."

  "Is Fox around, too?"

  "Still up at the fort, as far as I know," Glidinghawk replied. "He was keeping up his Indian agent masquerade when I broke out of the stockade. That's been several days, though, so I don't know what might have happened in the meantime."

  A smile tugged at Landrum's wide mouth. "Broke out of the stockade?" he echoed.

  Glidinghawk sighed. "It's a long story. It got the results we wanted. Anyway, I recall a little jailbreak in Dodge City that you were involved in."

  "Don't remind me," Landrum said. Both of them remembered the devastation that had occurred when Preston Fox used a commandeered locomotive to bust Landrum out of the hoosegow and save him from a hanging.

  They had reached the canyon, and they fell silent as they entered it. Voices could carry in the narrow confines, and they didn't want Dirk overhearing any of their discussion.

  When they approached the sentry post, Dirk leveled his rifle at them and yelled, "Hold it! Where do you two think you're goin'?"

  "Take it easy, Dirk," Glidinghawk called back. "Mr. Davis here is going back to Truscott. I'm just riding with him a little way so that there won't be any trouble."

  "How do I know that's what Arlie wants?" Dirk demanded, continuing to menace them with the rifle.

  "He said to tell you that if you've got any problem with it, to talk to him later." Glidinghawk shrugged. "You can do what you want, I suppose."

  Dirk frowned. Hesitantly, he said, "I reckon you wouldn't be out here ifn it weren't all right with Arlie. But I'm warnin' you, redskin —just 'cause Arlie trusts you, that don't mean I'm goin' to."

  "I don't expect you to," Glidinghawk said bluntly. "Just let us pass, all right?"

  Dirk jerked the barrel of the Winchester to indicate that they should proceed. "Go ahead," he said, his tone surly and resentful.

  "I’ll be back in a few minutes," Glidinghawk told him as he and Landrum rode along the canyon floor beneath the sentry post. "Just thought I'd tell you, in case your trigger finger gets a little nervous." Meaningfully, he put his hand on the butt of his Colt.

  Dirk snorted and settled back down behind the boulder without saying anything else.

  Glidinghawk and Landrum rode in silence to the end of the canyon. The sun was starting its downward slide toward the western horizon as they emerged from the cut. Glidinghawk reined in and said, "Be careful. I don't think anyone will follow you, but keep an eye on your backtrail just in case."

  "Always do," Landrum drawled. "I pure-dee hate to leave you out here in the middle of this mess of snakes, Gerald."

  "I'll be fine," Glidinghawk assured him. "Give my best to Celia."

  "I'll do that. She'll be glad to know that you're all right." Landrum cuffed his hat back slightly and leaned on the pommel of his saddle as he went on, "I'll try to get word to Amos, and then I'll be back to let you know when the troops will be getting here. You'll want to be gone when the fireworks start."

  Glidinghawk nodded. "But not before. We don't want the Moodys suspecting anything."

  Landrum grinned. "Think you can stay out of the old woman's way for that long?"

  "She's more dangerous than all the others," Glidinghawk said with a bitter laugh. "But I'll be fine. So long, Landrum."

  "Adios," the Texan said. He wheeled his horse and spurred away, heading back toward Truscott.

  Glidinghawk turned his mount, too, and started back down the canyon, back into —a
s Landrum had so aptly described it —that mess of snakes.

  Arlie was waiting on the porch when Glidinghawk returned to the cabin. "Any trouble?" he asked as the Omaha dismounted.

  "No. Dirk was a little proddy when we rode by him, but he didn't try to shoot anybody."

  "Good," Arlie grunted. "Claude's comin' around, so I reckon you'd better make yourself scarce for a while. I'll explain to him why you jumped him, but he still ain't goin' to be happy."

  Glidinghawk nodded. He felt weariness tugging at his shoulders, but he knew what the best solution might be. "I'll go back out to the canyon and take over for Dirk," he said.

  "Hell, you just got back from there. Besides, you've already taken your turn today."

  "It doesn't matter," Glidinghawk said with a shrug. "I don't want any more trouble with Claude. Your brothers already don't like me, and your mother wants to kill me."

  Arlie threw back his head and gave a braying laugh. "Reckon you ain't a member of the family yet, Glidinghawk. But what I say around here goes, and I think you've done a good job so far." The whiskey smuggler's face abruptly became more serious. "Just don't get no fancy ideas 'bout takin' over. I'm still the boss o' this deal."

  Glidinghawk shook his head. "I don't want to take over anything, Arlie. When Benton's on his feet again, I just might drift on out of here."

  "We'll see," Arlie said noncommittally.

  "Let me get a drink, and then I'll head back to the canyon."

  Glidinghawk didn't go into the cabin. He skirted it on his way to the well. After he had hauled up a bucket of water, he used the dipper that hung on the windlass frame to scoop up some to drink. It had a coppery taste that was rather unpleasant, but he was getting used to it. As he hung up the dipper when he was through, he glanced toward the cabin.

  The back door was open, and Sun Woman was standing there gazing at him. When his eyes met hers, she turned away quickly and disappeared. Glidinghawk’s grimaced. The sight of her was a painful reminder that he had not figured out what to do about her and the other Indian women.

  To be painfully honest, he thought, it was primarily Sun Woman he was worried about. He didn't want any harm coming to the other squaws, but ever since he had arrived here, he had felt something special for Sun Woman —an attraction that went beyond the fact of her beauty.

  He had long since decided that the capacity for real love did not exist within him. Now he was not sure. Perhaps that was what he was feeling; perhaps it was only a mixture of pity and admiration and desire.

  Glidinghawk wasn't sure about anything anymore. All he knew for certain was that this was an unresolved problem, something he would have to deal with before this mission came to a conclusion.

  He went back to his horse, mounted up, and rode toward the canyon. Along the way, he tried to figure out how much time he had to come up with a solution.

  Landrum would have to get to a telegraph station and send a coded wire to Amos Powell with the information about the Moodys. Then Amos could pass along the intelligence through the proper channels. But there was no way of knowing how long it would take troops to arrive in the vicinity. That would depend on where they were coming from and what other problems might be occupying their attention.

  His brain still whirling, Glidinghawk brought the horse to a stop where the trail up to the lookout post began. Dirk glared down at him and asked, "What the hell're you doin' back out here, Injun?"

  "Arlie said for you to come in. I'm taking your place."

  "You've already stood your watch."

  Glidinghawk waited at the bottom of the steep, narrow path. He wasn't going to start up it with Dirk waiting at the top. It would be too easy for the other man to topple him off the ledge and then claim it was an accident.

  It doesn't matter," Glidinghawk said. "I don't mind taking another turn."

  "All right," Dirk said, and shrugged. He scrambled down the path and held out the Winchester to Glidinghawk. Taking the reins of Glidinghawk's horse, he started back toward the valley with no word of farewell or thanks.

  That was no surprise. Any of the Moodys —with the lucky exception of Arlie — would have gladly put a bullet or a knife in him, Glidinghawk knew.

  And Arlie would strike just as quickly as any of the others if he thought he was being double-crossed, the Omaha thought.

  As he climbed to the sentry post and settled down to wait behind the boulder, he wondered if he should take advantage of this opportunity to slip away. He could be long gone before anyone came out here to check on him.

  But he would be on foot, and besides, as he had told Landrum, running out now would make Arlie suspicious. He couldn't chance setting out into the Brakes without a horse.

  The sun was almost down now, and the canyon was already cloaked with deep shadows. Glidinghawk rested his back against the rock and closed his eyes. He knew he wouldn't go to sleep, but he could draw some rest from this position without any loss in alertness. His keen ears were still attuned for the slightest sound that might be out of place.

  He heard the horse coming long before he saw it. The sound of slow, steady hoofbeats came from the valley, so it was unlikely that it represented a threat. Glidinghawk straightened, opened his eyes, and peered through the gloom that had dropped down with the coming of night. His sharp gaze picked out the horse moving along the floor of the canyon toward his position.

  The lone rider brought the animal to a stop at the foot of the ledge and swung lithely out of the saddle. Glidinghawk heard the rustle of a buckskin dress, saw moonlight shining on midnight-dark hair.

  Sun Woman climbed the path, using one hand against the rocky wall to balance herself while she carried something in the other hand. When she reached the top, she extended the small basket she held to Glidinghawk.

  "Food," she said simply.

  Glidinghawk leaned the rifle in a fissure in the rock so that it couldn't fall over, then took the basket from her. The smell of fried chicken and hot biscuits came from it. He pushed back the cloth that covered the food and smiled.

  "Thank you," he said. "This is wonderful. Did Arlie send you out here with this?"

  Sun Woman shook her head. "Arlie not know. Sun Woman decide you probably hungry, bring food for you." She started to turn away, almost before the words were out of her mouth.

  "Wait," Glidinghawk said. "Have you eaten yet? It looks like there's enough here for two."

  Without looking at him, she said, "Sun Woman must go back."

  Glidinghawk set the basket down beside him and came to his feet, reaching out to stop her. His hand grasped her arm, and he felt the warmth of her flesh under the buckskin.

  He turned her around and put his other hand under her chin, lifting it so that he could see her face. She stared impassively at him. He said nothing, content for the moment to study her lovely features in the moonlight.

  Finally, Sun Woman said, "You should not do this."

  "I have to," Glidinghawk breathed.

  His mouth came down on hers.

  For long seconds, she stood stiff and unresponsive in his arms, her lips closed and cold under his. But then, gradually, she began to lean against him. Her arms came up from where they had hung limply at her sides and stole around his waist. A low moan drifted from her throat.

  Her lips opened, and suddenly her kiss was a burning, blazing thing, as if, true to her name, a sun had suddenly burst into life within her.

  Glidinghawk stroked her hair, letting his hands stray down her back to the gentle curve of her hips. He felt himself responding, heat growing inside him to match what was suddenly coming from her.

  The passion they felt was too great for either of them to deny any longer. Mixed in with the tumult of emotions coursing through them was more than a little desperation. Both of them were trapped by who and what they were.

  For the moment, though, they would find an escape in each other.

  The rocky ledge should have been uncomfortable. But as they sank down on it, hands groping at their cl
othes and pushing all the barriers aside, neither of them noticed any discomfort.

  All they felt was each other, and the inferno that threatened to consume them.

  An unknowable time later, Glidinghawk sat against the cliff face with Sun Woman cradled in his arms, her head resting on his chest. There was a sense of contentment within him, yet he knew that it couldn't last.

  "I suppose you'd better get back to the cabin," he said softly. "Arlie's probably missed you by now."

  Sun Woman nodded but said nothing.

  A bittersweet smile crossed Glidinghawk's face. "The food's probably cold by now, too, but cold chicken's not bad. Sure you don't want some of it?"

  "Sun Woman bring for you," she whispered.

  "You brought me much more than that." Glidinghawk frowned as the problems of the moment came crowding back into his mind. "Sun Woman, I know you're not happy here. Would you be willing to leave?"

  She lifted her head so that she could look up at him. "With you?" she asked simply.

  Glidinghawk nodded.

  "Sun Woman go," she said.

  Glidinghawk took a deep breath. He didn't know how things would work out, but at least he had an objective now. He would get the hell out of this valley once Landrum warned him that the cavalry was on the way, and he would take Sun Woman with him.

  "We can't go now," he told her. "But soon. And it's very important that no one else know about this, especially not Arlie."

  She shook her head. "Sun Woman not talk to Arlie unless she has to. Arlie not good man. Not like Glidinghawk is good man."

  He laughed softly. "I'm glad you feel that way." Patting her on the rump, he went on, "You'd better go now."

  Sun Woman stood up, unfolding herself reluctantly from Glidinghawk's embrace. She stretched, and she looked so appealing that Glidinghawk had to take her into his arms again for another quick kiss.

  His lips had just met hers when a fusillade of gunfire erupted from the valley, splitting the night with its explosions.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN