by Tell Cotten
“God go with you,” Mr. Tomlin declared as they left the porch.
June walked with Lee to his horse. He tried to release her hand, but she held on firmly.
“I’ve got to go, June,” Lee said softly.
“Don’t go,” she whimpered. “Not again.”
“June,” Lee knelt beside her. “I’m going to fetch your Ma. When we get back, the three of us are going to spend some time together. Would you like that?”
June’s piercing blue eyes stared straight into Lee’s, and he felt a pull on his heartstrings.
“Yes,” June said. “I would.”
“All right then,” Lee said.
He straightened up, stepped into the saddle, and looked down at her.
“I’ll be back,” he promised.
“I’ll be waiting,” June swallowed hard and tried to look brave.
Lee nodded, and no more words were spoken as they rode out.
Chapter twenty-four
Jeremiah took the lead, and he rode to the spot where the Indians had set up camp.
By then it was late in the day. They tended to their horses, built a fire, cooked supper, and made coffee.
“Tracks have faded now, but yesterday I found some women’s tracks over there,” Jeremiah gestured. “Strides were normal too.”
“That’s good,” Rondo looked hopeful.
“Two women?” Lee spoke up.
“At least.”
“You think there were more?” Lee raised an eyebrow.
“Can’t say. It’s possible. Tracks were real mingled.”
Lee pinched his face in thought.
“Well, at least they made it this far,” he said.
“How much further did you follow the tracks?” Yancy spoke up.
“Four, five miles.”
“See anymore sign of the women?”
“No.”
Yancy frowned at that, but didn’t say anything.
It was silent then, and everybody sat there thinking their own thoughts. After supper, Yancy got everyone set on the night watch, and they turned in.
Jeremiah had the first watch, and he sat by the campfire and watched as Lee rolled out his bedroll. Nobody else was near, so Jeremiah lowered his voice.
“You made a lot of promises to June back there,” he said, his voice curt.
Lee narrowed his eyes.
“I meant every one.”
“You already hurt her once,” Jeremiah said. “I’d hate to see it happen again.”
“It won’t.”
“You might as well know,” Jeremiah said. “April and I have discussed marriage. More than once.”
“Did she say yes?”
“Well, no, not yet,” Jeremiah looked slightly flustered. “But she will. Understand?”
“Completely,” Lee smiled tightly. He crawled into his bedroll and added, “Night.”
Jeremiah watched him a moment before he spoke.
“Sure,” he replied.
Chapter twenty-five
Night settled over the camp.
Brian was the first to fall asleep, and everybody else tossed and turned while they listened to his steady snoring.
Cooper and Yancy were on the other side of camp, and Yancy sighed.
“I thought you said we wouldn’t have to listen to that tonight,” he commented.
“Guess I was wrong,” Cooper replied.
Yancy grunted softly, and it was silent for a few moments.
“Something doesn’t feel right about this,” Yancy suddenly said.
“I know what you mean.”
“I can’t figure why those Injuns would travel all this way, just to attack one ranch.”
“And then give up so easily,” Cooper added.
“Makes you wonder if they want us to follow.”
“It does, don’t it.”
“We’ve got to be careful,” Yancy warned. “An ambush is likely.”
“I’d say it’s a strong possibility,” Cooper agreed. “Especially once we’re close to the mountains.”
“And another thing,” Yancy continued. “Besides Brian, you and I are the only ones not emotionally involved. We’ve got to keep our wits about us, and set a good example.”
“Rondo and Lee will be fine,” Cooper reassured. “They’ve been in tough situations before.”
“But this concerns their women folk,” Yancy reminded. “That could cloud their judgment.”
Cooper frowned at that.
“I reckon it could,” he admitted.
“Just something to keep in mind.”
Before Cooper could reply, Brian snorted in his sleep. He made some strange moaning sounds, and then he returned to his snoring routine.
Yancy scowled and then sighed.
“Well, we’d best get some sleep,” he suggested, and he rolled over and pulled his blankets up around him.
“Good luck with that,” Cooper replied.
Chapter twenty-six
Not much happened during the next three days.
Rondo and Cooper were the best trackers, so they took the lead. Everyone else followed, and they kept their eyes on the surrounding landscape, looking for anything suspicious.
The terrain changed as they rode west. There were fewer trees about, and the gentle hills flattened out. There also wasn’t as much grass.
Nobody talked much, and the mood was somber. Brian could feel the tension between Lee and Jeremiah, and he purposely rode between them as much as possible.
At the end of the first day, they rode up to a small creek.
There were some tracks leading away from the main group, and Yancy and Cooper followed them. They found five graves, and there were Indians in all five.
They rode by several dead horses on the second day. They didn’t lose ground, but they didn’t gain any either.
They arrived at a dirt tank towards the end of the third day. The tank was filled with rainwater, and there was also the remains of a small fire, plus the carcass of a dead horse.
“Hold up!” Cooper held up his hand.
“What is it?” Jeremiah asked as everybody halted.
“Lots of tracks scattered about,” Cooper explained as he and Rondo dismounted. “I don’t want to wipe anything out.”
Jeremiah nodded, and several minutes passed while Rondo and Cooper walked in a big circle. Finally, they came together and knelt close to the tank.
“What is it?” Jeremiah asked, his voice impatient.
“A few of them went this way,” Cooper gestured, and he glanced at Jeremiah. “What do you think?”
“Mebbe another Apache died,” he suggested.
“Could be,” Cooper agreed, and he looked at Yancy. “I reckon we should find out.”
“I’ll go,” Rondo offered, and Lee nodded.
“No,” Yancy’s voice was surprisingly firm. “Coop and I will take a look.”
Nobody objected, and Yancy glanced at the sun.
“Be dark soon,” he said. “Might as well make camp here.”
Everyone agreed, and Yancy and Cooper rode out.
Chapter twenty-seven
“Any sign of the women?” Lee asked as they unsaddled their horses.
“Nothing for sure. Tracks are too mingled,” Rondo replied.
“I was afraid of that,” Lee frowned.
Once the horses were tended to, Jeremiah offered to gather some firewood. Brian went with him, and Rondo and Lee set up camp.
Lee leaned against his saddle after they had finished. He pulled out a cigar, bit off the end, struck a match on his saddle horn, lit the cigar, and took a deep puff.
His face looked thoughtful as he exhaled.
“Been thinking,” he said.
“Oh?” Rondo raised an eyebrow.
“You have Rachel, Cooper has Josie, and Yancy has Jessica.”
“If she’s still alive,” Rondo said, his face dark.
“We can’t think that way,” Lee frowned at his friend. “Rachel’s alive, and so is April.�
��
A wistful look crossed Rondo’s face.
“She’d better be.”
“Josie lived with the Apaches,” Lee reminded. “She told me once they never kill women or kids unless they have good reason.”
“Josie would know.”
“She sure would.”
Rondo nodded, and it was silent for a bit.
“If we get through this, I’m gonna ask for April’s hand in marriage,” Lee suddenly said. “She might say no, but I’m still going to ask.”
Rondo studied Lee with a thoughtful look.
“It’s about time,” he said.
“She’s a good woman,” Lee continued. “And, June’s a good kid.”
“I’d say so.”
“We’d get along just fine. And, now that I’m back in the hotel business, I’d have something to offer.”
“I don’t think she cares about that. She just wants you.”
Before Lee could reply, they heard the sound of a horse.
“Here they come,” Rondo said, and they stood.
Jeremiah and Brian walked in with armfuls of firewood, and Yancy trotted up behind them. His face was grim.
“Where’s Cooper?” Rondo asked, confused.
“He’ll be along.”
Rondo nodded and asked, “Find anything?”
Yancy nodded somberly.
“Back in the rocks,” he said softly. “We found another body.”
“An Injun?” Lee spoke up.
“No, it was a woman,” Yancy replied. He paused and added, “A white woman.”
Nobody spoke, and the silence was heavy.
“Was it Rachel?” Rondo finally asked, his voice husky.
“Couldn’t tell,” Yancy said. “We don’t know who it was.”
“What do you mean?” Lee demanded.
Yancy sighed, gathered his thoughts, and continued.
“She was scalped, and her body was all cut up and swollen. From the looks of it, she’s been dead a day or two. Cooper stayed to give her a decent burial.”
“You mean those Apaches didn’t even bother to bury her?” Brian asked.
Yancy nodded curtly.
“I’m going back,” Lee demanded. “I can recognize her.”
“Me too,” Rondo and Jeremiah declared.
They started toward their horses, but Yancy stopped them.
“No,” he said, and his voice was hard. “It wouldn’t do any of you any good. I tell you she’s unrecognizable. Don’t ask me to explain it anymore than that.”
“But we’ve got to know who it is,” Rondo objected, and his voice almost broke.
“We catch those Apaches, and we’ll know.”
Several tense seconds passed as everybody thought on that, and Rondo nodded sullenly.
“All right,” he vowed. “We’ll catch them, if it’s the last thing I ever do. And then, they’ll be sorry.”
Lee and Jeremiah nodded their agreement, and no more words were spoken.
Part Three
“Winchester, Apache Scout”
Chapter twenty-eight
As the days flew by, time blended together for Rachel. She had no idea what day it was, or exactly how long they’d been captives.
The days became repetitive. Each morning they rode out before daylight, and they kept up the grueling pace until dark.
It was a demanding routine, but it only took Rachel and April a few days to adapt. They didn’t talk much, or cause trouble.
Water was scarce, and every few days a horse would collapse. When this happened, the Apaches would usually stop, make camp, and eat.
By now, Rachel didn’t mind the taste of horsemeat so much.
They finally slowed their pace as they neared the New Mexico Mountains. There was a pass looming in front of them, and they were heading towards it.
The Indians’ moods had lifted. They laughed and called out to each other often, and they seemed to be less on guard.
They were about a day’s ride from the foothills when No Worries stopped in the middle of the day. Rachel was surprised, because no horse had collapsed.
They set up camp on top of a steep, little hill that was well covered in brush. There was also a dirt tank filled with water, fed by an underground spring.
Rachel and April were allowed to drink their fill. Afterwards they were escorted off to the side of camp, and nobody paid them much attention.
“Why’d we stop?” April spoke, her voice low.
“Don’t know, but I’m not complaining,” Rachel replied as she stretched. “Maybe this is the last water hole for a few days.”
It fell silent then, and Rachel wrinkled her brow in thought as she watched the Indians.
With No Worries supervising, they dragged up some brush and dug trenches in several spots. To Rachel, it seemed they were preparing to keep watch behind them.
April was thinking the same thing.
“Do you think somebody’s trailing us?” She asked.
“Perhaps,” Rachel replied.
“Lee and Rondo?”
“Could be.”
“The Apaches are setting up an ambush,” April said, and there was worry in her voice.
“That, or a few of them are staying here to keep watch,” Rachel reasoned. “If I were them, I’d wait to ambush whoever’s following until we reach the pass. It’s too open around here.”
“Makes sense,” April agreed. She hesitated, and asked, “Do you still think Lee and Rondo are coming for us?”
“Of course.”
“But so much time has passed.”
“I’m sure they had to get organized,” Rachel replied. “It could be several weeks before they show up.”
“By that time, we might be Indian wives,” April objected.
“That, or we’ll be slaves.”
April scowled, and then she gave Rachel a concerned look as another thought occurred to her.
“How are you?” She asked, and added quietly, “With the baby, I mean.”
“I’m not sure,” Rachel looked worried. “I think everything’s fine. I don’t feel any pain anywhere.”
“That’s a good thing,” April replied. A few seconds passed, and she chuckled wryly.
“What is it?” Rachel asked, anxious for a light moment.
“If they make wives out of us, your Indian husband is sure going to be surprised in nine months.”
Rachel shuddered at the thought.
“If we’re given the opportunity to choose, I’d rather be a slave,” April added.
“I’d rather be neither,” Rachel said.
Chapter twenty-nine
Unaware to the Apaches, a white man was nearby, watching with great interest.
A harsh dryness had settled in his throat. The hot, afternoon sun was unmerciful, and the desert sand he lay on burned his lean, hard body.
He was nestled down between two shrubs, and he was nearly invisible.
Sweat trickled down his whisker-stubbled jaw, but he paid it no mind. His teeth ground slowly as he chewed a mouthful of tobacco, and he spit out a long, brown stream, aimed at a nearby chuckwalla lizard. Other than that, he didn’t move a muscle.
He grunted wolfishly as the chuckwalla flicked its tongue distastefully at him and scampered away.
He had on a worn, sweat-soaked buckskin shirt, and the faded army pants he wore blended perfectly with the desert terrain.
Knee-high moccasins were on his feet. An army knife was thrust inside his left moccasin for easy access, and a battered hat was crumpled underneath him. Beside him was a Winchester ’73, and on his hip he displayed a Colt six-shooter.
August Landon, known as Winchester, was in his late twenties. He was currently an Apache scout for the army.
A very handsome man, he had a boyish smile, long, sandy brown hair, and light eyes. Standing at nearly six feet, he was thin but also muscular.
He squinted his eyes against the sun as he studied the countryside.
In front of him was a hill cover
ed with brush, and he could smell campfire smoke. Behind him, many miles away, were the New Mexico Mountains.
That was the direction he had come from. He was on his way south, to report his findings to the nearest army post.
His orders had been clear-cut. Find No Worries’ summer camp, and report back immediately. Simple as that sounded, the task had turned out to be difficult.
After weeks of scouting and cutting trails, he had finally found their camp. However, No Worries and his warriors weren’t there. All he’d seen were women, children, and older braves.
This had weighed heavily on Winchester’s mind as he made his way down the mountains. He took great measures to cover his tracks, and he was relieved when he finally reached the foothills.
But then, his exhausted horse took a fatal misstep and broke his leg. Not wanting to risk the sound of a shot, Winchester had regretfully cut the horse’s throat.
The nearest army outpost was at least sixty miles, with a lot of rough country between. That was a long walk, but he had no choice.
His main concern was water. His canteen was nearly empty, so he headed for the spring-filled tank at the hill.
With his Winchester in hand, he had traveled in a relentless trot. His eyes had moved constantly as he surveyed the landscape for anything suspicious.
As he’d neared the tank, his nostrils caught the slight hint of mesquite smoke, and he dropped flat.
It then took him thirty minutes to work his way around to where he was now. He still didn’t see any Apaches, but he knew they were there.
He needed to know if it was No Worries’ bunch, but he was in no hurry. He was in a good spot, and he would wait for the Apaches to make a move.
An hour later, the Apaches finally showed. They were horseback, and they were riding straight towards him.
Chapter thirty
Winchester sucked in his breath, and he flattened himself against the ground as much as possible.
A muscled, proud looking Apache rode in front. He was the tallest Indian Winchester had ever seen, and he’d seen a lot the past few years.
