by Rue Allyn
The badlands stood before them. Kiera knew better than to enter the twisting, endless chasms. They’d lose all sense of direction within an hour, and once in, the chance of getting out of the rocky maze alive was miniscule — better to risk facing the two men who’d followed all the way from the Flying V.
“We’re going to have to deal with them,” Muh’Weda’s statement drew her from her thoughts.
“Lord knows we can’t seem to outrun them, and places to hide are few and far between.”
“My father told me that Chief Washakie once said ‘if you must fight, it is best to choose the time and battleground’.”
“We can’t fight them. I may be able to fire a pistol, but we both know that my hands shake so much from fear that I couldn’t hit the sky if I aimed at it.”
Her friend grinned. “I never could figure out why you’re afraid of guns when you’re not afraid to live alone in Smoke Valley.”
“Solitude doesn’t scare me, but guns … I saw a man murdered once and haven’t been able to fire a weapon accurately since. I’ve got other ways to defend my home, just like you taught me other ways to hunt.”
“True. Still I’d like to hear the story of the murder someday, so I can really understand.”
“The story and my fears won’t matter, if those men catch us. They think we’re rustlers, and they’ll hang us at the first tree they come to.”
“Then we’ll just have to make certain they don’t catch us.”
“How?”
Muh’Weda shrugged. “Beats me.”
“Wonderful.” Kiera shook her head. Out of loyalty she’d allowed herself to be dragged into a situation where she could very well lose her life. She’d never see her sisters — one older, one younger — again. All the dreams she had of reuniting with them and bringing them west to live in her valley would die with her.
Though she mourned the loss of her dreams, she didn’t regret helping her friend. She’d been on the run for most of the past three years; the last eighteen months in Wyoming had been harsh. She’d been slowly freezing to death in the Wind River mountains when Muh’Weda found her. Until then, she’d not dared to hope for reunion with Edith and Mae. It was Muh’Weda’s help and his family’s kindness that allowed her to finally feel safe and settled enough to hope. She hadn’t escaped her grandfather’s brutal plans then survived three years of tribulation and disaster just to surrender and die. She’d get herself and Muh’Weda out of this, if she had to bushwhack the pursuers. “That’s it. We’ll set up an ambush.”
Muh’Weda stared at her, his jaw flapping. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You did.” She couldn’t let her friend feel inadequate. He’d never get the puha he needed, and that had been the main purpose of this adventure. Getting back some of the village horses was an added benefit. The real gain was in proving to the village and the elders not only that getting the horses back could be done, but that Muh’Weda could do it.
“I did?”
“Sort of, you said we should choose the time and place for the fight. What’s an ambush if not that?”
“Did you have anything specific in mind?”
“Yes. I’ll tell you all about it while we look for the right kind of canyon to use as our battle ground then find a spot to leave our horses and the other ponies.”
• • •
The sun hung low over the horizon when Muh’Weda scrambled into place beside Kiera behind a large rock fall that created a choke point in the box canyon where they’d set their ambush.
To someone unfamiliar with her Shoshone friend, his thin lips and flat features made it seem as if he were dead serious. However, Kiera saw the twitch at the corners of his mouth and the sparkle in his eyes. He was as excited by the coming confrontation as she was.
“They’re following the trail we left and should be here soon.”
“Did you get the stallion and the mares secured in that other canyon?”
“Yep. They’re too far away to be easily heard but close enough for us to get them without any trouble if our plan works. The men following us will think we lost the mounts and are stranded.”
“It better work. I don’t like the alternatives.”
“Me neither.”
She handed him her hat then tied a bandana over her bright pinned up hair. “I’d better get moving, so we can spring our surprise.”
Her friend smiled, but the sparkle faded. “Be careful, Kiera.”
“You too.”
Swift and silent she hurried into position behind a boulder just inside the mouth of the canyon. She signaled Muh’Weda when she was in place and watched him arrange her hat to make it look as if she were still with him. Then she hunkered down to wait. She would stay hidden until the men settled into a spot for their attack on what she hoped they believed were two rustlers.
She and Muh’Weda had chosen this canyon because the chasm’s mouth was well out of gun range, which made that opening the most logical place for the pursuers to leave their horses. Separating the men from their mounts was key to the success of the plan.
From behind the rock, she watched the two men leave their horses tied to a low branch growing out of the canyon wall then make their way, one on each side of the chasm, toward a tumble of rocks about twenty feet from where her hat showed Muh’Weda’s position to be. She was now between the men and their only exit.
One of the men wore a badge and was on her side of the canyon. He signaled the other man to hold off firing. However, the second man either didn’t see the signal or ignored it and aimed a careful shot that blew Kiera’s hat off the rock.
Darn. I liked that hat.
Muh’Weda returned fire fast enough to make it seem as if two people were taking careful shots at their pursuers.
Quick and quiet Kiera eased from boulder to boulder toward the horses. At the last rock she checked to see that the pursuers’ attention was focused on Muh’Weda. Choosing her moment, she broke cover and ran for the steeds left near the canyon mouth. Her job was to take possession of the horses. Then, using the mounts as cover, she would help Muh’Weda, by threatening the two men from behind. They didn’t need to know that she couldn’t hit a target and only carried a gun to complete her disguise as a man.
Once she and Muh’Weda had the men in what appeared to be a crossfire and they realized that aiming bullets in her direction would kill their horses, the men would surrender and the gunfight would be over with everyone alive.
She’d put her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself halfway into the bay gelding’s saddle when something grabbed her free leg.
• • •
There was no sight or sound of the stolen horses, but both rustlers hid behind the boulder where the bullets came from, so Ev wasn’t certain what caused him to turn and look toward the canyon entrance. However, the itchy sensation that signaled unseen danger attacked his neck.
“No!” He holstered his gun and sprinted for the horses. One of the desperados was trying to steal their mounts. “Keep him pinned down,” Ev yelled to Boyd.
“What?”
Ev prayed the gunman would figure it out because explanations would have to wait. Before the rustler swung into the saddle, Ev managed to get a grip on the desperado’s foot and pull hard.
The horse sidled away, and the man tumbled backward. Swinging his arms and twisting as he fell, he landed smack on top of Ev. They toppled to the ground with the rustler astride Ev’s chest. The man was a lightweight and would never have knocked Evrett down without the momentum from the horse’s movement.
He lifted his arms to fend off a punch, but the punch never came. Instead, his opponent’s arms flailed, hands slapping, fingers gouging and scratching. One blow landed on his ear and set his head ringing.
Damn, this guy fights like a girl. Ev attempted to get
a grip on the wildly swinging arms, but they seemed to be everywhere at once. Unable to stop the assault, Ev shot his arms straight out, under the area where the suspect flailed, and shoved at the assailant’s chest.
The move sent the thief flying to land butt first in the dirt about two feet away. The startled expression on his face was quickly replaced by a feral snarl.
Ev shook his head to clear it. Had he felt breasts beneath the rustler’s shirt?
That moment of wonder cost him as the man — or was it woman? — leapt for him.
This time Ev was ready. He gripped his attacker at shoulder and thigh, lifted, and tossed the suspect away.
A satisfying ‘oof’ sounded as the man, or woman, hit the ground back first and lay still as stone.
Ev stood and waited.
His opponent was so much smaller, that standing, he — or she — wouldn’t have a chance of beating Ev in a fist fight.
The suspect coughed and heaved in a breath, then another.
Ev studied the face and bone structure, the slight build. The distinctive white blonde hair that straggled out from a covering bandana framing lake green eyes and a mouth too generous for any man but just right for a woman. “Geezus in a dress. You’re a female.”
The smile that mouth formed dazzled him, but the eyes remained hard. “You noticed that, did you?”
Her husky voice struck him like the punch he’d expected earlier. He felt embarrassment creep up his neck. “Uh, kinda hard not to when I, uh … ” he looked at his hands before holding one out to help her up.
“Well, then let me return the favor.”
He quirked an eyebrow in question.
She grasped his extended hand and used it to pull herself to her knees where she hauled back and plowed a fist into his crotch.
Ev crumpled like a wad of paper, writhed on the ground, and moaned in agony. “Why?” he managed to croak.
“I noticed you’re a male.”
“You all right?” An Indian dressed Shoshone style, asked the question. He held a rifle on Boyd.
Still in pain, Ev looked from the woman to the Indian and back.
“I’ll be fine.” She rubbed one hand at a scar on her left temple then folded her arms across her chest. Her shoulders hunched as if to relieve some sort of pain. She tossed her head in Boyd’s direction. “How’d you get him?”
The Shoshone grinned. “He ran out of bullets before I did. When he tried to sneak off, I got the drop on him.”
“Well I’ll be damned.” The gunman stared at the woman. “What about you, Marshal Quinn? You okay?”
“I’ll live, but I won’t be walking for a time. What are you gonna do with us?” If he was a dead man, Ev wanted to know.
“We’re not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” remarked the woman.
“Matter of fact, that did concern me some.”
“Help your friend move over to that rock.” The Shoshone gestured Boyd to a nearby boulder. “Then sit down with your backs to it.”
Boyd helped Ev hobble to the rock.
“Here’s your gear.” The woman had removed the saddles and other equipment from both Ev’s and Boyd’s horses. Keeping the weapons and ammunition, she dropped the rest beside Ev. “We passed a way station about a day and a half walk from here. We’ll leave your horses there. You’ll find your weapons and ammunition under the deadfall half a mile east of this canyon.”
The Shoshone helped the woman to mount one of the unsaddled horses before scrambling atop the other.
Ev watched the two ride off.
“Well if that don’t beat all,” remarked Boyd. I sure as hell wouldn’t leave an enemy behind me, ‘specially not with weapons he could use against me.”
“They’re young. Maybe they don’t have enough experience to know better.”
“That’s just plain stupid. Don’t take experience to do the smart thing.”
Ev gave that some thought. He never would have left an enemy with access to weapons. ‘Course, in his line of work he didn’t leave enemies behind. His job was to bring them in and lock them up. The only reason he could think of for leaving the weapons was so that two men on foot wouldn’t be completely defenseless. The woman and the Shoshone weren’t stupid, which left kindness as the most likely motive for leaving the weapons behind. Somehow the thought rankled. The woman clearly didn’t like him. Shoot, she’d punched him in the nuts and knew damn well he wanted to send her to jail. Why in God’s name would she do anything kindly toward him?
Ev shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe they aren’t murderers.”
“They were smart enough to leave our gear to slow us down,” muttered Boyd, looking with disgust at his heavy saddle. “And they set that fire at the Flying V to cover up the murder of Sheriff Boswell. Between the bucket brigade and those newfangled hoses, Si managed to save most of his barn, and Boswell’s body was still recognizable.”
“That gear will help us stay alive. Thieves starting a fire at the same time they’re stealing horses doesn’t make sense. The horses would spook. If they murdered the sheriff, why not murder us? Leaving us alive makes even less sense, if they’ve already killed.” The thoughts made Ev more curious than ever about what was going on. More and more this incident looked like something other than simple horse thieving.
“You’ve got a point. ‘Sides, what kind of horse thief leaves two good mounts where the owners can find them?” wondered Boyd.
Ev wanted an answer to that question too. He sighed, slung his saddle and gear over one shoulder then commenced walking. He was gonna be mighty footsore by the time he reached that way station.
“So why, d’you suppose, is she traveling with a Shoshone?”
“She?”
“Yeah, she, the blonde woman.”
“How’d you figure her for a woman?” He looked at Boyd.
The gunman smiled. “Well, I watched you tussle with her, and she sure doesn’t fight like a man. And, no man I know wears a face like hers.”
Ev couldn’t quite figure why he should be bothered by the fact that Boyd noticed the blonde was a woman. He wanted time to sort out all the thoughts swirling around in his head and wished the gunslinger would stop talking.
Boyd kept on speaking. “Then too, the Shoshone helped her onto your horse. If he did that to another healthy man it would be an insult.”
“You know, for a gunslinger, you sure talk a lot. Ask a lot of questions ‘bout a woman Big Si wants you to kill, too.” Ev tried to stare the man into silence.
Brows lifted slightly, Boyd returned Ev’s gaze. “Maybe I don’t plan on killing her. Si doesn’t know one of the rustlers is female. Even if he does cotton to killing womenfolk. I don’t. As for conversation, where’s the harm? Didn’t know not talking was a requirement for being able to hit what I shoot at.” He uttered the rebuke in a level, almost cheerful tone. “Not all folks in a profession behave the same. For instance, I know at least one lawman who can laugh.”
Ev couldn’t restrain a smile. “That’d be me, right?”
Boyd rolled his eyes. “Ah, yeah, right.”
Ev nodded and pondered the benefits and risks of trusting Boyd. “C’mon, let’s catch those two and get some answers.”
He lengthened his strides, and for the first time, Boyd fell silent. Unbidden, the image of the blonde woman came to Ev’s mind, and a queer sort of tension curled in his chest. He wasn’t certain what the feeling meant other than that he wanted to get his hands on her. He forced the image from his mind and kept walking. No woman was going to do what she’d done to him and get away with it.
• • •
When Kiera and Muh’Weda, their string of ponies trailing behind, finally rode into the Shoshone village near the shore of Lake Yellow Stone the entire population came to welcome them. As Muh�
��Weda dismounted, three girls broke from the crowd, rushing to hug him and hang on his shoulders. “Yes, I am happy to see you too.”
Listening to him murmur endearments to his sisters, Kiera smiled and slid from her saddle. Family would occupy her friend for some time.
A hand on her shoulder had her turning to see the well-worn face of Spirit Talker, the band’s elder medicine man.
“Welcome home, Dabai’Waipi — Sun Woman. Our prayers have been answered. You and Muh’Weda have returned safely, and we have much to celebrate. Muh’Weda has proven what the elders could not decide — that it is possible to get our horses back from the white rancher who stole them.”
“We only took four horses.” Leading her mount and the other four horses, she walked toward the village corral of scrub and branches.
“True.” Beside her Spirit Talker nodded sagely. “But you brought our stallion, which we badly need, and three fine mares — one of them is in foal.”
“She’s not showing yet.” Kiera knew better than to ask how Spirit Talker knew about the mare’s condition. If the medicine man wanted her to know, he’d tell her. Spiritual leaders held positions of great respect in the Shoshone community. The stronger the spiritual power, the greater the respect. The principle was similar to a Shoshone man’s puha. The term had no equivalent in English but had much to do with a man’s personal power and the community’s respect for him.
“She will soon enough, and the colts she bears will be mighty war horses.”
“We may need those war horses sooner rather than later. Along with the four ponies, I’m afraid we may have brought a great deal of trouble for the village.” She curried her mount and put the gray into the corral of wild brush. Closing the barrier, she turned to study Spirit Talker.
