Ride the Savage Land

by William W. Johnstone

“It won’t take us long to catch up,” Brock said. “The bitch is close now, boys. Close enough I can almost smell her! Come on.”

  The three outlaws spurred their horses into motion and thundered away, following the trail toward the Brazos. The young Lipan just watched them go for a moment, then shook his head and resumed his journey to Weatherford, clearly more puzzled than ever by the behavior of white men but knowing he would never figure them out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “That’s them,” Leon said as he nodded toward the five men who sat around a table toward the back of the big barroom.

  “Disreputable-looking bunch, aren’t they?” Ripley Kirkwood said with a faint smirk on his handsome face. “Except for the one in the frock coat. He looks as if he might have had some quality in his life at some point in the past.”

  “The one in black is a killer.”

  “Well . . . the same thing could be said about you, couldn’t it? Ever since that bare-knuckles bout in Omaha, and a number of times since then.”

  Leon grunted.

  “So we have a tinhorn gambler and a notorious gunslinger,” Kirkwood went on. “What do we know about the other three?”

  “The Indian’s a Kiowa. That’s all they ever call him. He’s supposed to be a good tracker and a pretty dangerous man in his own right. The other two . . .” Leon shrugged. “Blank pages. Prewitt and Loomis, they’re called, but nobody seems to know anything else about them.”

  “It doesn’t matter. The gunslinger . . . Shelby, is that right? He’s the one we’ll need to make the most use of. If he has a grudge against those Jensen brothers already, we might as well take advantage of that.”

  A low rumble came from Leon’s throat. Kirkwood knew he was opposed to the idea of hiring outside help, but that didn’t matter. Kirkwood didn’t give a damn about a servant’s opinion, and no matter how much he relied on Leon, the former prizefighter was still a servant.

  Leon was good at finding things out. He had nosed around and discovered that these five men had clashed with the Jensen brothers. Kirkwood still wasn’t clear exactly why the Jensens had gone with Isabel and the other women, but the reason didn’t really matter. They were a potential obstacle to what Kirkwood wanted, so they had to be eliminated.

  If that could be accomplished with minimal risk to himself and Leon, so much the better. These five men were . . . expendable.

  Kirkwood walked across the saloon toward the table where the men sat. In his expensive clothing, he was out of place there, but not so much that he drew an excessive amount of attention. Sometimes rich men liked to go out and haunt places that were beneath them. Kirkwood had done that himself on a number of occasions, and he was sure it happened in Fort Worth, too.

  A couple gaudily painted and garbed young women took note of Kirkwood and started toward him, knowing a wealthy potential mark when they saw one, only to retreat nervously when Leon glared at them. Kirkwood was there for business, not pleasure.

  The gambler—Henry Baylor, according to the gossip Leon had heard—was idly dealing poker hands and then picking them up again. The other four men nursed drinks. A mostly empty bottle of whiskey sat in the middle of the table.

  The Indian was the first one to notice Kirkwood and Leon. He was sitting between Shelby and a mostly bald man with a potbelly. He nudged the gunman and said something to him. Shelby looked around and sat up straighter.

  The reaction spread around the table to the other men, so that by the time Kirkwood and Leon got there, all five of them were sitting up and tensely alert as if the two strangers might mean trouble.

  Kirkwood came to a stop with Leon behind him. He hooked his thumbs in his vest pockets, and smiled. “Good day to you, gentlemen. My name is Ripley Kirkwood.”

  Baylor said, “Is that supposed to mean something to us, Mr. Kirkwood?” He was probably the smoothest and best-educated of the five and would serve as their spokesman.

  “Not unless you’ve spent much time in New Orleans. The name is well known there, since my father is a very wealthy man.”

  “Do you just enjoy coming up to strangers and bragging about your father, or is there a point to this?”

  “Oh, there’s a point, to be sure,” Kirkwood said. “I’ve been told that several days ago you had some trouble with a couple brothers named Jensen.”

  Baylor set aside the deck of cards at the mention of the name.

  Lew Shelby reacted, as well. His lips drew back from his teeth in a grimace, and his hand made what appeared to be an instinctive movement toward the gun on his hip. “Are those bastards friends of yours?” he asked in a growling tone. “Because if they are—”

  Kirkwood lifted a slender hand to silence Shelby’s blustering threat. “I’ve never met the two gentlemen.”

  “They’re hardly gentlemen,” Baylor said. “They’re just a pair of drifters. Saddle tramps. One of them tries to dress well, but you can still tell what sort he really is.”

  “Well, I have some business with the Jensen brothers.”

  “Won’t do you no good,” Shelby said. “They lit a shuck. Ran out because they’re afraid of us.”

  “No doubt.” Kirkwood managed not to sound too condescending about it. “But I know where they’re going, and I intend to catch up to them.” His voice hardened. “They have something of mine, and I’m going to retrieve it.”

  Baylor asked, “What does that have to do with us?”

  “Since you have a score to settle with the Jensens, I thought you might like to come with us. To join forces, if you will.”

  As if the activity helped him think, Baylor picked up the deck and leaned back in his chair, riffling the cards automatically as he looked intently at Kirkwood. “What you mean,” he said after a moment. “is that you’re afraid of the Jensens and want our help dealing with them.”

  Leon stepped around Kirkwood. His face was as impassive as ever, but his eyes seethed with anger. “We don’t need your help—”

  “Leon,” Kirkwood said.

  Leon fell silent.

  Kirkwood went on. “My assistant is quite capable, thank you. But these Jensens are an unknown quantity. For all I know, they have friends where they’re going. The five of you, or as many of you as care to go along, simply ensure that Leon and I won’t find ourselves badly outnumbered.”

  “I told you we should have gone after them,” Shelby snapped. “I wanted to kill those little sons of bitches right from the start.”

  “Throw in with me, and there’s a good chance you’ll get your wish,” Kirkwood said with a smile. “How about it?”

  Shelby and Baylor looked at each other. It seemed obvious that the two of them would make the decision. The other three men hadn’t spoken or done anything to indicate that they wouldn’t go along with whatever the gunfighter and the gambler wanted.

  Shelby was eager to agree, Kirkwood could tell, but Baylor remained cautious.

  “What is it that you’re really after?” Baylor asked.

  “That doesn’t matter—”

  “It might, if we’re going to be risking our lives.”

  Kirkwood considered for a second, then shrugged. “Very well. The Jensen brothers are traveling with a group of women—”

  “Now you’re talkin’.” The bald, potbellied man spoke up for the first time.

  “Be quiet, Jack,” Baylor said. “What sort of women?”

  “Mail-order brides,” Kirkwood said. “One of them is an imposter. She’s really my fiancée, and she’s running away from me.”

  “She got cold feet, eh?”

  Kirkwood made a curt gesture. “The reason doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that I intend to get her back, and if the Jensens get in my way, they’ll be disposed of, whatever that takes.”

  “And the other women?” Shelby rasped.

  “I don’t have the least bit of interest in them,” Kirkwood said. “Does that make a difference?”

  “It might. We’re in,” Shelby declared.

  “I co
ncur,” Baylor said. “With the understanding that you’ll be covering all the expenses and a fee for our time and trouble, Mr. Kirkwood.”

  “I told you that my father is rich,” Kirkwood replied with a chuckle. “The cost is no object. How soon can you be ready to leave?”

  “There’s still plenty of day left,” Shelby said. “We can be ready to ride in half an hour. Need to pick up some supplies and ammunition. Jack, you and Prewitt handle that.”

  Kirkwood said. “Leon, go with them, pay for the supplies, and arrange for good saddle horses for the two of us.”

  “Better get some extra mounts,” Jack Loomis suggested. “Those Jensens are a couple days ahead of us. We’ll need to do some hard riding to catch up to them.”

  “See to it,” Kirkwood told Leon.

  Loomis apparently surprised the others by continuing. “Give us a few minutes to talk over some things. Personal business, nothing to do with this. Your man can wait over at the bar.”

  Kirkwood shrugged. “Fine. Leon, you heard the man. I’ll be at the hotel. Fetch me when we’re ready to depart.”

  Leon jerked his head in a nod and went to the bar while Kirkwood walked out of the saloon.

  Lew Shelby said, “Jack, when the hell did you start giving orders in this bunch?”

  Loomis leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Don’t look at that Leon fella, so he won’t know I’m talkin’ about him. Remember I told you about being in a saloon at the other end of town yesterday morning when a couple gents came in and raised a ruckus? Well, that was them.”

  Shelby’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “The fancy pants and his trained ape?”

  “That ape busted up five men without any help and without even breakin’ a sweat,” Loomis said. “I reckon he would have killed all five of them without blinking an eye if he needed to.” He looked around at the others. “I know you boys. You’re thinkin’ about double-crossing Kirkwood or whatever his name is, maybe seeing what he’s worth to that rich father of his, once we kill the Jensens and grab those women.”

  Shelby inclined his head to indicate that Loomis was right. “What if we are thinking about that?”

  “I’ll be right there with you,” Loomis promised. “I’m just sayin’, when we make our move . . . kill the ape first. Because if you don’t, he’ll sure as hell kill us.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It was an overcast day on the trail, but the thick gray clouds didn’t promise rain. They just made the air more sultry and had all the ladies inside the wagon fanning themselves because of the sticky heat.

  Ace and Chance rode with their hats tipped back on their heads and their sleeves rolled up. Ace took the point, as usual, while Chance divided his time between riding in front of the wagon with his brother and dropping back to make sure no pursuit was coming up behind them.

  It was their hope that the Fairweathers had suffered enough losses to make them give up the crazy idea of claiming the women for themselves. Linus Fairweather had seemed more than a little loco, and without him to drive them on, the surviving sons might not be so eager for more trouble.

  By midafternoon, the terrain had gotten even more rugged, with steep hills and bluffs and valleys choked with thick vegetation. The road twisted around like a snake, following the easiest route. The sandy soil closer to the river had given way to hard red clay. It looked more like mining country to Ace, but there were ranches in the area, too. They saw numerous cattle grazing among the hills and thickets.

  Late in the afternoon, they came to a tall ridge rising in front of them. It ran north and south as far as they could see.

  Chance reined in. “How in the world are we going to get up there with a wagon?”

  Ace brought his horse to a halt and frowned at the steep escarpment. “There’s got to be a trail. That map Lorena has shows the road going on west. We just can’t see it from here.”

  Creaking and swaying, the wagon rolled up behind them. Agnes hauled back on the reins and stopped the team. “Are we going the right way?” she called from the driver’s seat.

  Ace hipped around in his saddle and said, “We were just talking about that. Chance, you stay here while I scout ahead and see if I can find a way to the top.”

  Chance opened his mouth and looked like he was going to argue, but then he nodded. “You’re right, we don’t need to leave the ladies alone. Not after what happened back at the river with the Fairweathers.”

  Ace lifted a hand in farewell and heeled his chestnut into motion again. A mile-wide flat lay in front of the ridge, so it didn’t take long for Ace to cross it and reach the base of the escarpment.

  When he was closer, he could see the way a number of smaller ridges jutted out like gnarled fingers. The road followed the slope between two of those smaller promontories. It was steep but passable. The horses would have a hard pull getting the wagon to the top. The women would need to get out and walk again. They weren’t going to like that.

  It would be best to wait until morning to make the climb. The team would be much fresher after a night’s rest. With that decided, he swung his horse around and loped back toward the wagon.

  The ladies had climbed down and gotten out to stretch their legs. Chance had dismounted and was trying to talk to Jamie, but she didn’t appear to be paying much attention to him. As Ace rode up, all of them turned toward him to find out what he had discovered.

  “We can make it to the top,” he reported. “It won’t be easy, but the road goes up there and we can follow it.” He swung down from the saddle, holding the chestnut’s reins. “I’m afraid you ladies are going to have to walk, though, the way you did a few days ago . . . between Fort Worth and Weatherford. Only it’ll be a lot longer hike this time. The way the trail runs, it’s probably at least a mile from the base of the ridge to the top.”

  “A mile on foot, uphill?” Isabel said with a note of alarm in her voice. “In these shoes?”

  “There’s no need for that,” Chance said. “Our horses can carry double, even up a hill like that. We’ll take you up two at a time.”

  Ace frowned. That idea hadn’t occurred to him. They would need to give the horses plenty of time to rest once everyone was on top of the ridge, but he had to admit, Chance’s plan would work.

  “Do you mind driving the wagon?” Ace asked Agnes.

  “Not at all. I’m glad to do anything I can to help. You know that.”

  Jamie put a hand on Chance’s forearm and smiled at him. “I’m so glad you thought of that, Chance. I really wasn’t looking forward to that long walk.”

  “You can ride with me,” he told her. “I’ll take you up first.”

  “In the morning,” Ace said. “We’ll make camp here and let all the animals rest overnight. I don’t want to tackle that hill until tomorrow morning.”

  No one argued with that decision. Agnes found a good place for the wagon, near some trees that would provide wood for a fire. There didn’t seem to be a creek in the vicinity, but they still had plenty of water in the barrels lashed to the side of the wagon.

  They had seen a few riders in the distance during the day, probably cowboys who worked for some of the spreads in the area. They hadn’t encountered anyone on the road, however, and hadn’t spotted anyone coming up behind them. As night fell, Ace figured it wasn’t too much of a stretch to hope that it was a peaceful one.

  The clouds meant a starless night, and with the ridge looming above them the darkness seemed even thicker. Their campfire was a lone spot of illumination in a vast sweep of black. Ace didn’t take much comfort in that. The fire announced to the world where they were. He and Chance would remain watchful.

  As if reading Ace’s mind, after supper Lorena said, “You know, we wouldn’t mind helping you stand guard at night. Would we, girls?”

  “I certainly don’t,” Agnes said. She was always the first to volunteer for any chore that needed done.

  “I’m not sure I’d be any good at it,” Jamie said with a frown. “I don’t do very well
if I don’t get a full night’s sleep. I might not be able to stay awake.”

  Molly said, “I’d be willing to help, but I’m not any good with a gun.”

  “Nor am I,” Isabel put in. “But I can remain alert and sound the alarm in case of trouble.”

  Ace shook his head. “That’s what you’re paying us for, ladies—to protect you. Chance and I can handle that job.”

  “Well . . . sometimes it might be easier to stay awake if we had a little company,” Chance said.

  “It’s settled, then,” Agnes said immediately. “We can take shifts. The ones of us who are willing to, that is.”

  Reluctantly, but clearly not wanting to be the only one who didn’t volunteer, Jamie said, “All right, I suppose I can give it a try.”

  Ace smiled a little to himself and shook his head. He knew that Chance would try to arrange things so he was paired with Jamie. At the same time, Agnes would be angling for a shift with Chance.

  And as for Lorena . . . she had been a little cool toward Ace, so he hoped she wouldn’t figure it was an opportunity to try to seduce him again. But he wasn’t sure, since she was the one who had suggested the idea in the first place.

  The women drew lots to see which of them would stand guard. That was the only fair way to do it.

  Chance was paired with Lorena, which was a relief to Ace on two levels. He didn’t have to worry about the honey-blonde trying to take advantage of the situation, and if Agnes was disappointed in not being teamed with Chance, at least Jamie wasn’t going to be staying up with him, either.

  Molly won—if that was the right term—the draw to be Ace’s partner for the night. That development didn’t please Ace as much. He still felt a touch of embarrassment whenever he thought about that nocturnal encounter with a scantily dressed Molly several nights earlier.

  She smiled across the fire at him, though, and seemed to be saying that it was all right, so he told himself not to worry too much about it.

  Chance and Lorena had the first shift, so Ace crawled under the wagon with his bedroll and got some sleep. As usual, it seemed like he had barely closed his eyes when Chance tapped his foot with a rifle barrel to wake him.