They started toward the distant cabin, snow swirling more thickly now.
Cherokee puffed his cigarette. With any luck, Bill’s in there makin’ stew and coffee for us, not looking for claim jumpers.”
Willie guffawed. Any claim jumper would take one look at that sky and head back to town! I gave Bill that rabbit I shot this morning. Maybe he’s made biscuits and some tasty vittles!”
Silver reined her horse in at the bottom of the gully, unsure which way to go. The snowflakes had begun falling on her a few minutes ago and she’d paused, hoping the snow would stop. Instead they were coming thick and fast.
Drat! She brushed at the ones clinging to her oversized jacket and pulled her hat lower over her eyes for warmth. Al was right. What was she doing out here anyway? She’d better turn around and head back to town in case this turned into a real storm.
Silver reined in the bay uncertainly. On the other hand, it was a long way back to town and she hadn’t realized how late the hour was. She’d been too lost in her own thoughts. If she was a little late, there were several girls who could sing and dance a little.
She nudged the gelding forward. Prospectors were always abandoning worthless claims. Maybe she could find a deserted cabin and hole up in it until the weather decided what it was going to do. Al would be frantic, of course, but she’d be better off to find shelter than to try to ride back if this became a hard snow. He’d come looking for her at first light, and while she might be miserable, she had matches in her pockets, and a little food in her saddlebags. She could manage until the storm ended.
Why hadn’t she listened to Al? What kind of a fool’s errand was she on anyway? It had nothing to do with gold claims, she realized that now. Silver had lied even to herself. She had come looking for that big ’breed. To what purpose? She knew what he wanted to do to her. Was she crazy?
She must not panic even though the wind now blew cold against her face. Silver rode across the gully. The lead-colored clouds had blocked out the sun. Fading light reflected off something shiny in the rocks on the other side of the ridge.
Hallo!” she shouted. Is anyone around?” But the wind blew her words back into her throat. The sudden temperature plunge frightened her, set her to shivering. Had she seen a movement behind those trees?
Silver turned her coat collar up around her ears and hunched down in the saddle. She was not only cold, but more than a little. scared. Maybe there was a cave or at least a windbreak up in those rocks ahead. She had to find shelter for her and her mount. The snowflakes drifted so thick and fast, it was difficult to see more than a few feet. She urged the horse forward.
For a moment, she thought she heard a man shout, then dismissed it as the wind. She rode across the gully.
Silver felt the pain cut like fire through the shoulder of her jacket and slam her backward. She tried to hang on, but the world was spinning around her. Thunder, she thought dimly as the horse whinnied and reared. But why would there be thunder with a snowstorm?
That was Silver’s last conscious thought as the horse threw her and the ground rushed up to meet her.
Chapter Four
Cherokee jerked up, listening to the sound echoing and reechoing through the hills. What the hell was that?”
Willie looked back at him, mouth half-open. You don’t reckon—?”
By damn! Do you suppose Bill—” Without finishing his sentence, Cherokee took off at a dead run toward the sound, although the cold wind whipping the snow flurries about him made it hard to pinpoint the source. His heart felt heavy with dread as he ran toward the gully.
It had never seemed so far before. Cherokee’s lungs felt on fire as he sucked in the cold air and raced through the underbrush. Behind him, Willie protested that he couldn’t keep up and to slow down, but Cherokee didn’t slow his pace. It was more likely Bill had shot an innocent passerby rather than a claim jumper. Cherokee had a sudden vision of all the miners in the South Park area taking justice into their own hands and lynching the three of them.
Crazy old coot! Cherokee should have taken the rifle away from him when he had the chance. He topped the rise and stopped, gasping for breath as he took in the scene below. The falling snow made it difficult to see, even if it hadn’t been late afternoon. A figure lay sprawled like a dark blotch on the white ground while Bill bent over it, rifle in one hand. On the trail, a bay horse snorted and backed away. A bright splash of blood smeared its withers where the rider must have slid from the saddle.
Behind him, Cherokee heard Willie limping through the brush, protesting that he couldn’t keep up. But Cherokee didn’t take his gaze off the fallen figure in the snow. Maybe it was a claim jumper; otherwise, why would the man be out here? Still Bill shouldn’t have shot him without making sure the stranger was actually doing something wrong.
Cherokee took off down the slope at a run. Bill, catch that horse! We’ll need it to get him into town to a doctor!”
Bill looked up, his face pale as the snow around him. It seemed to be a moment before the words registered. Honest, Cherokee, I yelled at him to stop and he just kept coming! I thought I’d scare him—”
Catch the horse!” Cherokee thundered, going to one knee by the slight figure sprawled on its face. He hesitated to turn him over, dreading the fact that the man was almost certainly dead.
Bill stumbled after the horse. But the bay was evidently spooked by the blowing snow and the smell of fresh blood. It snorted nervously and backed away. Cherokee turned his attention to the trespasser who lay sprawled on his face, blood smeared from his jacket to the white snow.
Such a slight build, probably a boy, Cherokee thought with a mixture of pity and dread. He took one of the limp wrists in his hand, felt for a pulse, then heaved a sigh of relief. At least he’s not dead . . . yet.”
He glanced over at Bill edging toward the skitterish horse. Be careful, Bill! If we’re to get him back to town or ride in for a doctor, we need that horse.”
Willie arrived just then and the horse reared again, gave one final neigh, and took off back down the trail.
Cherokee jumped up, but it was too late. The three of them watched the horse gallop away.
By damn! Now what?” Cherokee sighed and knelt by the sprawled body. He’s still alive! We’ll take him up to the cabin and see what we can do. Maybe if the horse goes back to town, someone will trail it out here.”
Not likely,” Willie grumbled. I’d say we’re in for a full blizzard. In an hour or so, probably won’t have any tracks left to follow.”
That was true. Cherokee didn’t answer as he reached and carefully turned the wounded man over. Why, it’s just a boy! Bill, you’ve half killed some kid who was maybe just looking for his mama’s lost milk cow.”
What’s that?” Bill cupped his hand to his ear.
I said he might have been looking for a lost cow!” Cherokee shouted at the deaf old coot.
Way out here?” Bill said. I still think he was hopin’ to catch us away from the cabin, steal our poke!”
Willie scratched his beard with his crippled hand. Maybe he’s right, Cherokee. Look, there’s a shotgun under him. No kid lookin’ for a lost milk cow would be packin’ a shotgun.”
What was it about that shotgun that looked so familiar to him? He’d probably seen one like it in a store window someplace. We can’t just go around shootin’ folks because they get lost near our claim and pack iron—especially a boy. I’ll carry him back up to the cabin. We got to at least get him out of the cold!”
Cherokee was amazed at the boy’s light weight as he lifted him. But the movement dislodged the boy’s hat and it blew away. A cascade of hair almost as light as the snow itself fell free.
Oh, my God!” Willie gasped. It’s Miss Silver! Bill’s killed Miss Silver!”
No, it couldn’t be. Cherokee stared down into the beautiful face, now pale as death. There was not another so lovely in all the territory, even with the discolored bruise swelling on her temple. If she died . . .
The horror of the thought galvanized him into action. With a curse, Cherokee turned his back to the storm, shielding her from the cold wind with his wide frame. He started toward the cabin with long strides.
Behind him, he heard Bill blubber. I didn’t mean to! She had her hair up under that hat! How was I to know it was a woman?”
Cherokee was too disgusted and horrified to answer. He protected the unconscious girl against his warm chest and kept walking. If she died, the miners wouldn’t have to take revenge on the old man. Cherokee would be tempted to do it himself!
God, it was cold! The chill wind took his breath away as Cherokee strode toward the cabin. Snow already blew almost ankle deep around his boots. No, there wouldn’t be any tracks left to follow . . . if the horse did head back to town. What was more likely was that the bay would find a windbreak in some brush or fallen trees until the weather let up.
She was warm and soft in his arms—so different from the stiff, prim body she had been when he had carried her across the street. It couldn’t be more than another hundred yards to the cabin, but it seemed like miles through the cold. The long blond hair whipped around them both. If she died . . .
No, he couldn’t even face that possibility. Cherokee felt he had looked for this girl his whole life, and now that he had found her, Fate might conspire to take her from him. He’d never been much on prayer, but he said a few as he struggled through the storm back to the cabin.
Finally it loomed on the horizon with its welcoming warmth, the smoke barely visible from its stone chimney. Cherokee staggered inside with his precious burden. His partners came in behind him and closed the door. Cherokee paused in the middle of the room, grateful for the sudden heat of the blazing fire, the scent of a rabbit stew bubbling in the big iron pot of the fireplace.
Bill’s bunk was the nearest one to the fire, so Cherokee carried Silver over to it, gently lay her down, and checked her pulse. Thank God she was still alive!
Behind him, Willie cleared his throat. Bill, I swear you do the craziest things! How could you shoot Miss Silver?”
How was I to know it was her?” Bill blubbered. What was she doin’ clear out here anyhow?”
The same question had occurred to Cherokee, but he didn’t have time to ponder that now. His anger flared and he had to struggle to keep from getting up and knocking both their heads together. None of that matters! We’ve got to have some help, I’m no doctor!”
Neither are we!” Willie shrugged helplessly. Didn’t you used to help the vet on that plantation you was on?”
But that was animals,” Cherokee snapped over his shoulder. I don’t know anything about humans and bullet wounds!”
What?” Bill asked.
Willie shouted Cherokee’s words at him.
Cherokee, you know more than we do.” Bill took out his bandana and blew his nose loudly. Maybe if we could get some of this hot stew in her—”
With her unconscious?” Cherokee sighed. ”You two go ahead and eat. I’ll see just how bad it is.”
In truth, he didn’t want to undress her in front of the two men. It seemed shameful somehow, with her helpless and unconscious. She’s just a whore, he told himself, probably hundreds of men have seen her naked body. But he didn’t like that thought and it still seemed a rotten thing to do. Maybe he wouldn’t have to undress her at all.
Cherokee, we don’t feel none like eatin’,” Bill protested.
Eat anyhow!” he drawled. You both got chilled out there and I don’t need three sick people to look after!”
While the two men got themselves a bowl of stew, Cherokee carried a kettle of hot water over to the cot and reached for his knife. With the oversized, blood-soaked jacket, there was no way of telling whether it was a shoulder wound or close to the heart. In that case . . .
His hands trembled at the thought. His pards were right—whatever help she got until a doctor could get here, Cherokee would have to give her. Gently as he could, he cut the blood-soaked fabric at the shoulder, baring the wound while being careful not to expose her breast. It was a shoulder wound, but with all the blood, he couldn’t be sure how bad it was.
Willie brought his bowl over and stood looking down at her. Will she be all right, Cherokee?”
How should I know? I’ll do what I can, but it looks like it’s bleeding pretty bad.” A sense of dread and impending doom closed over him. Oh, God, if she died right here in his arms . . .
How many times had he wished he had her at his mercy in this cabin? Be careful what you wish for, you might get it. No, this wasn’t what he had dreamed of at all.
He tore a piece from one of his own clean shirts and tried to wash the blood away, but the wound kept bleeding. At least it looked as if the slug might have gone through. He wouldn’t have to deal with the complication of digging a bullet out. Not that he could bring himself to hurt her, even to save her life.
Gently, Cherokee folded the piece of soft cloth and applied light pressure to the wound. If I can get the bleeding stopped, she’ll have a better chance.”
Bill stared down at his stew. Honest, pard, I didn’t mean to shoot her. I thought she was some dry-gulcher nosin’ around to rob us. Reckon what she’s doin’ out here?”
That’s the least of my worries right now,” Cherokee sighed. I just wish we’d caught that horse so we could get her into the doctor.”
We got the burro,” Willie offered.
Cherokee shook his head. Not big enough to carry even someone as small as she is. And besides, in the shape she’s in, she might die while we were trying to get her to town. By damn! Why don’t we even have a wagon?”
He held the cloth against the wound, absently stroking her hair and staring down into the pale face. She moaned softly, deep in her throat, and shrank back against the bed. He remembered then that she didn’t like to be touched.
Willie cleared his throat. I got some whiskey, Cherokee. Maybe that will help.”
Right now, I’m open to suggestions,” Cherokee said. Get it!”
Bill sat with his head in his hands. I reckon the snow will wipe out the tracks so Al and the others can’t bring help.”
Al. He had forgotten about the short-tempered bartender. Of course that was his shotgun Silver had been carrying. He couldn’t imagine why Al had let the girl ride off alone like that. But maybe Al didn’t know where she was. What in the hell was she doing way out here alone? If she belonged to Cherokee, he’d never let her out of his sight! What the hell was he thinking of? She was a whore; she belonged to any man who paid for her time.
They needed a doctor. Cherokee stood up, went to the window, and looked out. It’s getting worse.”
As if to taunt him, a blast of cold air rattled the windows. At least there was plenty of food here inside, and they could melt snow for water. Firewood lay stacked in the corner near the fireplace. Even the burro was cozy in its shed on the backside of the cabin. Yes, the three men and the burro could manage to ride out the storm, but the girl needed help now.
Cherokee made his decision as he turned away from the window. I have to make it into town and bring the doctor.”
Willie and Bill both made sounds of dismay. You mean, leave us to try to look after Miss Silver?”
Cherokee shrugged. Someone’s got to.”
Willie wrung his hands. But we don’t know nothin’ about no doctorin’!”
Phash! He’s right!” Bill protested, That’s something we don’t know nothin’ about. Why don’t you take care of her and Willie and me’ll go for help?”
You’d never make it,” Cherokee sighed, leaning over to check the girl’s color with a critical eye. Her fair skin looked starkly white against the scarlet blood that smeared her shoulder. It was bleeding again and she began to shiver.
Cherokee felt her clothing. It was not only dirty, but damp in spots because of the small trickle of water in the gully and the snow that had melted beneath her body before Cherokee picked her up.
Both old-timers stood staring down at the unco
nscious girl. Bill wiped his eyes again. I swear I never meant to hurt Miss Silver! Every man in the territory worships her.”
Including me, Cherokee thought with sudden realization, but he didn’t say that. I know, Bill,” he said, and patted his partner’s shoulder. Everyone’ll know you didn’t go to do it; you didn’t do it apurpose.”
That don’t make me feel any better,” Bill said. He went over to the window and looked out. It’s gettin’ dark out there and the storm’s not letting up. It’s my fault she’s hurt; I’ll go for the doctor.”
No,” Willie protested, I’m younger than you, you old coot, and in better shape, too! I’ll be the one to go.”
Neither of you have as good a chance as I do of making it,” Cherokee argued.
But she needs someone who knows what he’s doing,” they said almost in unison.
Cherokee,” Willie said, scratching his straggly beard with his misshapen hand, why don’t you doctor the girl and we’ll both go for help.”
No, I can’t let you do that. You might not even make it to town. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you two!”
And can you live with yourself if we stay here where it’s warm and safe, and Miss Silver dies?” Bill asked.
What a decision to make. Cherokee looked at him helplessly, unable to deny the logic of his partner’s words. What good would it do if Cherokee left her in their clumsy, inept care, and she died while he was bringing back Doc? In that case, Cherokee didn’t even think he’d care if that short-tempered watchdog of hers came looking for him with a shotgun.
Al went to the window at the Nugget, stared out a long moment, then checked his watch. The streets of Buckskin Joe were deserted in the bluster of a cold late afternoon. He shouldn’t worry so much. Any moment now, Silver would come riding up, and he would scold her for her wild, reckless impulse. He never should have let her go in the first place.
As if he could stop her. No one stopped Silver from doing what she wanted to do. His belly began to hurt again and he took a big swallow of the tonic. The laudanum and the alcohol helped dull the pain that was almost constant now. Two years at the outside, the sawbones in Chicago had said. How old was he? Forty-one. He wouldn’t live to reach the half-century mark.
Quicksilver Passion Page 6
