Ride the Savage Land

by William W. Johnstone

  “And we’ll keep on dealing with it,” Chance said. “That’s what you hired us for.”

  “You’ve earned your money,” Agnes told him. “We never would have made it this far without the two of you.”

  “That’s right,” Jamie added. “We owe you both so much.”

  “Save your thanks until we get to San Angelo,” Ace said.

  “One more day,” Chance said.

  * * *

  Leaving the post oak country behind, the terrain was even flatter and covered with scrub brush, clumps of hardy grass, and an occasional stand of small, gnarled mesquite trees. There were fewer creeks. Here and there in the distance, mesas thrust up from the flats, punctuating the vast openness. The sky was incredibly blue overhead, and the drier air heated quickly as the sun rose into that blue vault.

  Late in the morning of what Ace hoped would be their last day on the trail, he spotted a haze of dust hanging in the air ahead of them. He pointed it out to Chance, who was riding on the other side of the wagon. “What do you think of that?”

  Before Chance could answer, Agnes asked, “Think of what?”

  Chance said, “He’s talking about that dust up in front of us.”

  “What dust? You mean . . . Oh, wait, I think I see it. Should we be worried about it?”

  “It would take a herd of cattle on the move to raise that much dust . . . or a big group of riders,” Chance said. “Cattle wouldn’t bother me.”

  “But if it’s a bunch of men on horseback, we need to find out who they are before we can tell what we need to do about it,” Ace said. “Let’s stop for a minute.”

  Agnes hauled back on the reins and brought the team to a halt. Ace reached into his saddlebags and brought out a pair of field glasses, which he lifted to his eyes and used to study the landscape in the distance.

  After a couple minutes that seemed longer, he lowered the glasses and heaved a sigh of relief. “It’s a cavalry patrol. I was able to make out the guidon and their uniforms, so I’m sure of it.”

  The women inside the wagon were looking out past Agnes.

  Jamie said excitedly, “Soldiers?”

  “Maybe they can give us an escort into San Angelo,” Lorena suggested.

  “I don’t know,” Ace said. “It looks like they’re headed in this direction instead of back toward the post. They might not be able to turn around and return to San Angelo just yet, at least not without going against their orders.”

  “Well, at least we know it’s not a bunch of outlaws or Comanches waiting to attack us,” Chance said. “Maybe whoever’s in command can tell us more about what to expect between here and the settlement.”

  Agnes slapped the reins and clucked to the team to get the horses moving again. The dust cloud in front of them grew bigger and more distinct, and it wasn’t long until Ace and Chance could make out the dark shapes of the riders at the base of the cloud.

  A short time after that, the blue uniforms became visible to the naked eye, as did the colorful guidon at the top of a staff carried by one of the soldiers. The regimental pennant fluttered a little as the hot wind tugged at it.

  The sun was almost directly overhead. They needed to call a halt to rest the horses and eat a midday meal, which would be a bit on the sparse side because their supplies were getting pretty low.

  With that in mind, when the troopers had closed to within a quarter of a mile, Ace signaled for Agnes to go ahead and stop. They would wait for the soldiers to come to them, which was obviously what they were doing. Ace was sure someone in the patrol had spotted them and pointed out the wagon to the commanding officer.

  Three soldiers nudged their mounts ahead of the others and came on at a faster pace. A man wearing a black hat was in the lead, trailed on either side by two men in campaign caps. The man leading the way was probably the officer in charge of the patrol.

  He was a young, fair-haired lieutenant, they saw as the man rode closer. Handsome and a little sunburned, he looked like he hadn’t been out on the frontier for very long.

  The troopers with him were both black. Buffalo soldiers, they had come to be called, because the Indians compared their hair to that of the buffalo. One was a stocky, middle-aged man with a lot of gray under his campaign cap and sergeant’s stripes on his sleeve. The other was a private, much younger and leaner.

  Ace and Chance had moved ahead of the wagon and thumbed their hats back. They sat easy in the saddle as the soldiers rode up to them. The lieutenant called a halt and said pleasantly. “Good morning, gentlemen. Or is it afternoon already? With the sun at its zenith, it’s difficult to be certain.”

  “I think it may be afternoon,” Ace said with a smile. Even though the officer hadn’t asked their names, he introduced himself and his brother. “I’m Ace Jensen. This is my brother Chance.”

  “Lieutenant Benjamin Wingate, at your service.” He looked past the Jensen brothers at the wagon, and his friendly smile got bigger and friendlier.

  The ladies had that effect on just about everybody of the male persuasion.

  Wingate took his hat off and held it over his heart. “Ladies.”

  Chance didn’t say anything about his real name being Benjamin, just like the lieutenant. He hardly ever thought of himself that way anymore. “You and your men are out on patrol, Lieutenant?”

  Wingate put his hat on again. “That’s right. And you are . . . ?”

  “Escorting these ladies to San Angelo,” Ace said.

  “You’re opening some sort of, ah, establishment . . . ?”

  From the wagon, Lorena asked sharply, “Do we look like a bunch of whores to you, Lieutenant?”

  “N-no, ma’am. Of course not,” Wingate stammered. “I merely meant . . . a group of ladies traveling together . . . in the company of two men—”

  “At least he didn’t call us whoremongers,” Chance said to Ace.

  “I reckon we can be glad for that,” Ace replied dryly.

  Jamie slipped past Agnes on the seat and climbed down from the wagon, gripping the wheel to help her down. Her feet hit the ground, and she turned toward the others.

  “All of you, stop picking on the lieutenant! You’re embarrassing him.” She strolled boldly past Ace and Chance, stopped, and smiled up at Wingate. “My name is Jamie Gregory, Lieutenant, and I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Gregory, I assure you. It is Miss Gregory?”

  “That’s right. None of us are married. Yet.”

  “Oh. You mean—”

  “We’re mail-order brides,” Agnes said from the driver’s box.

  “I see.” Wingate still looked a little flustered. “And you two gentlemen are escorting the ladies to meet their betrothed?”

  “That’s about the size of it,” Ace said. “Are you out here from Fort Concho chasing renegades?”

  Being reminded of his mission distracted Wingate from his obviously impressed inspection of the ladies. He looked at Ace and nodded. “You’ve heard rumors that there are hostiles abroad in the vicinity, I take it?”

  “We’ve heard rumors,” Ace confirmed, “but we haven’t run into any of them, thank goodness.”

  Chance asked, “Where are you from, Lieutenant?”

  “Rhode Island,” Wingate answered. “What does that matter?”

  “It doesn’t. You just don’t sound like any of the Texans we’ve run into down here.”

  “You didn’t answer my question about scouting for Indians, Lieutenant,” Ace pointed out.

  Grimly, Wingate said, “The stories you’ve heard aren’t just rumors, Mr. Jensen. Several weeks ago, a band of Comanche renegades led by a self-styled war chief called Swift Pony left the reservation in Indian Territory. They’ve managed to dodge all pursuit so far, and their depredations have been, ah, quite extreme.”

  “How extreme?” Chance asked.

  Wingate looked at Jamie, who still stood nearby beaming up at him, and then at the other women. “I hesitate to go into the particulars . . .”<
br />
  “Go ahead, Lieutenant,” Lorena said. “We’re all grown women, and speaking for myself, I’d like to know just how bad it is.”

  The others nodded and murmured agreement.

  Wingate took a deep breath. “Very well. So far the renegades have murdered seventeen settlers—men, women, and children—and unless someone stops them, I’ve no doubt they plan to carry on with their bloody-handed rampage until they’ve spilled blood all the way across Texas!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Since it was the middle of the day anyway, Lieutenant Wingate told his sergeant to have the men fall out and prepare a meal then stood beside his horse and smiled at the women, all of whom had gotten out of the wagon after he’d made his chilling prediction.

  “I’d invite you to share our rations, ladies, but we can’t really spare any, and besides, I’m sure you’d find it very unappetizing fare. Hardtack and salt pork are hardly the sort of fine victuals that ladies such as yourselves must be accustomed to.”

  “You might be surprised what some of us have had to make do with, mister,” Lorena told him. “But we have our own supplies, and they’ll last us until we make it to San Angelo.”

  “I would advise you to proceed there as quickly as possible. A group of women, traveling by yourselves, would be a very tempting target should those renegades become aware of you.”

  Ace and Chance had been watering the horses, but they walked up in time to hear Wingate’s comment.

  Chance said, “Wait just a minute, Lieutenant. The ladies aren’t traveling alone. My brother and I are escorting them.”

  Wingate smiled rather smugly. “Of course, but there are only the two of you. Swift Pony has more than a dozen men with him. You’d hardly be any match for them.”

  “You might be surprised,” Ace said.

  “And we can fight, too,” Agnes put in. “We have a couple rifles in the wagon.”

  “That’s fine,” Wingate said, “but your best defense is still to reach civilization as soon as possible. With the fort right there, the savages will never attack San Angelo.”

  Ace felt an instinctive dislike for Wingate. The lieutenant from Rhode Island was young and inexperienced, but that didn’t stop him from being priggish and arrogant.

  Despite that, Ace also knew that Wingate was right. The sooner they got to San Angelo, the better.

  Ace built a small fire, then Agnes put a pot of coffee on to boil and broke out some biscuits left over from their breakfast that morning.

  Jamie went up to Wingate. “Lieutenant, why don’t you join us for lunch? We’d be very happy to have your company.”

  “I wouldn’t want to impose . . .”

  Lorena said, “We don’t have that much extra food, Jamie.”

  The young blonde took the rebuke in stride, but the smile she turned on Wingate never lost any of its brilliance. “You could at least have a cup of coffee with us.” She turned her head and her tone sharpened a little as she added, “We have plenty of coffee, don’t we, Lorena?”

  “We have plenty of coffee,” Lorena replied, her own voice a bit tighter.

  Wingate didn’t seem to notice as he smiled. “In that case, I’d love to have a cup with you, Miss Gregory.”

  Chance blew out a breath, turned away, and walked around to the other side of the wagon. Ace trailed after him, and when they were out of sight of the others, Chance flung out his hands and said under his breath, “Did you see the way she’s playing up to him? She’s engaged to be married, and yet she’s practically throwing herself at his feet!”

  “You’re talking about Jamie and Wingate.”

  “Of course. From the moment those soldiers rode up, she’s been staring at him like a kid looking at a piece of candy, or a dog that wants a hambone.” Chance grunted. “Hambone. There’s a good name for the damned stuffed-shirt, eastern—”

  “Take it easy,” Ace advised his brother. He tried not to grin, which likely would have made things worse, but he couldn’t resist saying, “Jamie’s looking at Lieutenant Wingate pretty much the same way you’ve been looking at her ever since you first laid eyes on her in Fort Worth.”

  “What? That’s not true! I’ve never been less than a gentleman—”

  “A gentleman who’s been licking his chops.”

  Chance’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell’s side are you on here?”

  “No side. Jamie’s a mighty pretty girl, and nobody’s going to blame you for thinking so. Agnes seems to think you’re nice to look at, too, and Jamie feels that way about the lieutenant.”

  “Don’t forget the way Lorena feels about you,” Chance snapped.

  “We seem to have gotten past that,” Ace said. “I reckon we’re just friends now.”

  Chance blew out another disgusted breath. “I’ll just be glad when Wingate goes on his way and we can get on to San Angelo.”

  “If we run into any of those renegades, we might be wishing the lieutenant and the rest of those soldiers were still around,” Ace pointed out. “Anyway, that rancher Jamie is supposed to marry is probably waiting for her in town. By the end of the day, she’ll be with him. There was never going to be anything between the two of you.”

  Chance sighed. “I know that. I just hate to see her spending the rest of our time together mooning over that damn soldier boy.” He laughed. “As for the Indians . . . you’ve seen him, Ace. How much good do you think a greenhorn like Wingate would be in a fight with the Comanches?”

  “I don’t know. That sergeant looks like he’s been to see the elephant a time or two. And the rest of his troops seem pretty good.”

  “Wingate’s probably a glory-hunter. I hope he doesn’t get them all killed.”

  Ace scanned the seemingly empty landscape around them and thought about how many threats might be out there, unseen but still ready to strike. He hoped all of them made it through the rest of the day.

  * * *

  Chance glared at Lieutenant Wingate while the young officer drank some of the coffee Agnes had brewed and ate rations from his own pack. Jamie continued to be very attentive to him and questioned him about his army career, which as Ace suspected, hadn’t been very extensive. Fort Concho was his first posting since graduating from West Point.

  Not surprisingly, Wingate’s father turned out to be a wealthy businessman with political influence back in Rhode Island. That was how he had gotten into West Point to start with.

  Jamie hung on his every word, laughed whether what he said was amusing or not, and generally annoyed the hell out of Chance. Ace thought that was entertaining, and judging by the twinkle in her eyes, so did Agnes. She even smiled when she and Ace exchanged a glance, as if their amusement over Chance’s discomfiture was a shared secret.

  However, Ace wasn’t sad to see the meal finished and the cavalry patrol ready to move out. It would take the rest of the day to reach San Angelo. Evening might fall before they got there.

  While the sergeant was getting the rest of the men back into their saddles, Lieutenant Wingate stood holding his horse’s reins. He took off his hat and told the women, “I truly wish I could accompany you and make sure you arrive safely at your destination. Unfortunately, to do so would be disregarding my orders, and I cannot do that.”

  “We understand, Lieutenant,” Jamie said. “You have your duty, and you must do it.” She stepped forward, put a hand on his arm, went up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. “Godspeed to you, and stay safe.”

  Wingate looked a little flustered but very pleased. “Thank you, Miss Gregory. I’ll carry the memory of your beauty and graciousness with me, and I’m sure that will help me triumph over any adversity.”

  Mounted on his gelding near the front of the wagon team, Chance blew out a disgusted breath. He appeared to be on the verge of saying something, but Ace, mounted on the chestnut next to him, caught his brother’s eye and shook his head.

  Wingate put on his hat, swung into the saddle, and rode to the head of the column. He lifted a gauntleted hand and wav
ed it forward in a signal to move out.

  The soldiers rode off to the northeast. The wagon headed west toward San Angelo. Ace and Chance rode a hundred yards in front of the vehicle.

  After a while, without looking over at Ace, Chance said, “Did I act like that? Has it really been that obvious?”

  “The way you feel about Jamie, you mean?” Ace shrugged. “I noticed it, and I know Agnes did, too. Can’t speak for the other ladies, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “So what you’re saying is that I’ve been a damned fool.”

  “Because you think Jamie’s mighty pretty and you let yourself get infatuated with her?” Ace laughed and shook his head. “Shoot, I think she’s really pretty. I didn’t fall for her or anything like that, but I’ve got eyes in my head, just like you do. And there’s nothing wrong with being attracted to somebody. You haven’t been too big a pest about it, I reckon.”

  Chance laughed, too, ruefully. “I guess it’s a good thing we’ll be there soon, and I won’t have to worry about being tempted anymore. Right now I think I’ll fall back and see how things look behind us.”

  Thinking about Ripley Kirkwood, Lew Shelby, the Fairweathers, and the mysterious trio that had abducted Molly, Ace nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

  Chance turned his horse and peeled off, then rode back past the wagon with a wave for Agnes on the driver’s seat and the other four ladies in the back with the canvas cover rolled up on the sides. They returned the wave.

  Ace kept his eyes turned to the front, frowning slightly as he studied a narrow dark line that meandered in a zigzag fashion from north to south. That was probably a dry wash, he decided. They had crossed several such during the morning. They’d had to search for places where the banks had caved in and created slopes gentle enough for the wagon to handle. Sometimes that meant scouting back and forth for a while until a suitable spot was located.

  Ace hoped this one wouldn’t delay them too long.

  * * *

  Swift Pony lay against the bank, his head lifted just enough for him to peer over the edge at the rider coming toward him. Behind him, waiting tensely for his signal, were the rest of his men. They held their ponies and kept hands over the animals’ noses so they wouldn’t make any noise and alert the whites.