Long Road to Cheyenne

by Charles G. West

  By the time he made his way down through the thicket, all the deer had fled, all except the one doe that lay dying on the ground. He quickly put the deer out of its misery. Lucky shot, he thought. I won’t be bragging about that one. I almost fell on my ass and let them all get away. The result, however, was fresh meat, so he dragged the carcass out of the thicket, then went to get his horse. Anyway, he thought, I won’t have to go back to that camp with a rabbit or squirrel after I said I’d get them a deer. It was a fair-sized doe, causing him to grunt a little when he hefted it up on Toby. “Damn,” he said to the horse, “maybe I shoulda butchered it here.”

  When he returned to the camp, he found that Mary had built a fire and had coffee on to boil. It was still a strange picture, with Raymond sitting apart from his guests on a bench-high boulder. When she heard his horse approaching, Mary turned to greet him. Apparently it had been a difficult task trying to make conversation with her brother-in-law, so she was doubly glad to see Cam again. She got up from her seat on a blanket to help him with the deer. Emma’s eyes got bigger and bigger when she saw the carcass draped across Toby’s withers. The girls had never seen a dead deer before. She and Grace ran after their mother to get a closer look.

  Raymond got up from the rock he had been seated on, his interest definitely aroused. “You work fast,” he commented to Cam. “I heard the shot.”

  “Didn’t take long to find ’em,” Cam replied with no elaboration of the details. He was thinking that it took the prospect of fresh meat to foster any animation on the part of their stoic host. It was a sign of the desperation the man must certainly be in. He must have been eating grass, Cam thought. It caused him to make an offer to help. “Say, if you need to get into town to get supplies, I could stay here and watch your claim for you.” He figured Mary and the girls could go back to Custer City with him. But as soon as he said it, he saw the narrowing of Raymond’s eyes and his look of concern.

  “I don’t need anybody to sit on my claim for me. I don’t need supplies that bad, and I’ll be leaving here for good pretty soon.”

  “Well, I was just offerin’,” Cam said, shrugged, and went to work skinning his deer. Mary volunteered her help, but he told her he had butchered enough game to have his own methods of doing it. “You just take care of the cookin’,” he said. “Besides, it looks like I’ve got all the help I need,” he added, nodding toward the girls, who were crowding in to get a closer look at the procedure.

  Before long, there were strips of fresh venison roasting over the fire on a spit that the brothers had fashioned, but that looked to have not been in use for some time. Mary served the hot meat as soon as it was done, and no one was more eager than Raymond. Like he ain’t had anything solid in days, Cam thought. He began to suspect that Raymond might have been searching for gold for too many years. He had heard of men who had spent so many lonely years of hard labor, brutal weather, and danger from Indians and outlaws that they had gone crazy in the head. The image of Raymond, choking down strip after strip of meat like a hungry wolf, easily verified his suspicions. When all had had their fill, Cam finished the butchering, portioned out some to cook later, and prepared the fire to dry out the rest, smoking it over the flames.

  The only occasions when Mary could talk to Cam without being overheard were when Raymond would have to walk back in the woods to answer nature’s calls. To satisfy his curiosity on one such occasion, Cam opened the flap on the tent and stuck his head inside for a quick look. It was as he had suspected. The tent was over a hole more than three feet deep. It had been carved out in the shape of a square, just inside the area covered by the canvas, in effect, a short room. There were two beds, one on each side, and a small stove in the center with a stovepipe that extended up to a smoke hole in the top of the tent. In one corner of the hole, he saw a small pile of three cloth bags, containing gold dust, he assumed. Not much to show for the time the two brothers had spent here, he thought. He had no need to linger, for he had seen all there was to see, and the heavy stale air inside the hole made him crave a lungful of fresh air. He backed away and closed the flap, then turned to meet Mary’s questioning gaze. Shaking his head vigorously and snorting like a buffalo, he said, “You don’t wanna go in there.”

  She started to question him, but Raymond returned at that moment. “When are you folks planning to start back?” he asked.

  “I guess we’ll leave tomorrow,” Mary answered. She then turned to Cam. “Is that all right with you, or do you need more time to tend the venison?”

  “That’s fine with me,” Cam replied. “I’m leavin’ most of that meat here for Raymond to finish up. We oughta be able to head out before noon.”

  His answer was well received by Mary. This whole reunion with Raymond had been a depressing encounter, one she almost wished she had not undertaken. Raymond had changed, and for the worse, she guessed, and she was eager now to leave him here in his Destiny. Had it not been for the need to rest the horses, and for the smoking of the meat, she would have been ready to ride back down the mountain immediately. Just as well, she told herself. The girls can have an afternoon to rest.

  She had just begun to prepare supper when Raymond went into his tent and came out with two of the sacks Cam had seen in the corner of his fortifications. He carried them over and dropped them at Mary’s feet. “Like I said, Warren and I managed to dig up a little pay dirt. I weighed these sacks out at five pounds apiece. I’ve got three of ’em, so I’m giving you two, and I’ll keep one. I think that’s fair, since you’ve got children to feed, and those two sacks are worth about thirty-three hundred dollars.”

  Almost stunned, she didn’t know what to say at first. “Oh, that much?” she gasped. “But that’s not fair to you, Raymond. I think we should at least split the gold fifty-fifty. That’s much too generous. I want to be fair.”

  “I insist,” he said. “I’ll get by with my share. I don’t want it said that I didn’t take care of Warren’s widow.”

  Gleeful over the prospect of having enough money to decide where she and the girls could find a place to settle down, Mary gushed, “Thank you so much, Raymond. This will make our lives so much easier. I know Warren is thanking you right now for your kindness.”

  More than a little interested in the conversation he could overhear, Cam turned his attention away from the stream, where he had been watching Grace and Emma playing a game of stepping stones. The winner was the one who could walk across the water without slipping in, by stepping from stone to stone. “That’s the least I can do,” he heard Raymond say in response to Mary’s thanks.

  That’s the least you can do, Cam thought. You got that right. Judging by Raymond’s attitude from the first moment since they had shown up, he couldn’t figure him to be generous worth a damn. While he had whiled away the afternoon, watching the meat he was preparing, he couldn’t help visually searching the campsite for possible places to hide the bulk of Raymond’s fortune, and there were many. One thing he felt certain about was the probability that those three sacks of dust were a minor portion of that taken out of the gulch, and were kept inside his tent to mislead anyone intent upon robbing him. He paused then to ask himself if it was any of his business. It’s a family affair, he thought, and considered that for a moment. He picked up a small stone and tossed it into the pool at the bottom of the falls, close enough to Grace to make her squeal when a little water splashed on her leg. I don’t care if it ain’t my business. She deserves half of what’s been found so far.

  Unnoticed by the idle young man, or anyone else on this lazy summer afternoon, a dark rider sat on a gray horse, surveying the camp from the ridge above. Dressed in black, from the flat-crowned, wide-brim hat, down to his black Spanish boots, he watched with interest what appeared to be an idyllic family scene: meat smoking over a fire, children playing in the water, a comely mother smiling sweetly as Raymond Bishop handed her two sacks of gold dust. He took an extra minute to study the younger
man tending the smoked meat. Hard to say, he thought, and reached down to make sure the .44 was riding easy in its holster. “Look’s like a family picnic,” he told the dappled-gray gelding. “Let’s go down and join the folks.” He gave the horse a nudge with his heels and descended the ridge.

  With his back turned to the ridge, Cam didn’t realize they had a visitor until he saw the angry surprise in Raymond’s face. He turned then to see the dark rider emerge from the pines. His natural reaction was to reach for his Colt, only to recall that it was on his saddle with his rifle. There had been no thought that he would have need of it. Maybe he wouldn’t. He had no choice now but to wait and see. Taking a quick glance at Raymond, he guessed that Mary’s brother-in-law knew the rider, and from the expression on his face, he was not especially glad to see him.

  Sensing something was wrong, Mary stepped away from Raymond and hurried to gather her daughters up close to her. The stranger smiled menacingly at her as she called to Emma, who had paused to gawk at the visitor. Aware that Cam had gotten to his feet, the rider pulled his horse to a stop between him and the saddle on the ground where his weapons lay. He then glanced at him, still with the confident smile in place.

  “What are you doing here, Rafer?” Raymond asked, clearly angered.

  “Hello, Mr. Bishop,” Rafer replied, making no effort to disguise a sneer. “You don’t look happy to see me again.”

  “What do you want?” Raymond demanded.

  “I came to collect for that little piece of business I done for you.”

  “Our business is finished,” Raymond shot back. “You got every bit we agreed on, and our deal was that you would never come back here again.”

  Rafer glanced at Cam again to make sure he wasn’t about to make any sudden moves toward his weapons. “Yeah? Well, I’m changin’ our deal. I think you bought me off too cheap, Bishop. I got to thinkin’ about it and I think that job I did for you was worth twice as much as you paid me. So why don’t you just come up with the other half of my payment, and maybe I’ll ride away and not bother this little family picnic?” He smirked, enjoying his advantage over the two men. “You know, money’s the only thing that keeps my tongue from waggin’ too much.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Raymond blurted. “We had a deal, and I kept my end of it.”

  “And I kept mine,” Rafer roared back. “The son of a bitch is dead.”

  “Shut your mouth!” Raymond demanded, looking anxiously back and forth between Mary and Cam.

  “Like I said, nothin’ shuts me up like a few bags of gold dust, and it looks to me like you’re handin’ ’em out right now.” He nodded toward Mary.

  “There isn’t any more,” Raymond insisted. The situation was becoming more desperate with each statement that came out of Rafer’s mouth. Not anxious to explain any more than had already been said, he decided it better to try to buy Rafer off. “All I’ve got left is one more five-pound sack. I’ll give you that if you’ll go away and leave me alone.”

  “You think you’re dealin’ with a damn fool?” Rafer shot back, irritated by what he considered a cheap attempt. “Yeah, I’ll take the other sack, and them two the woman’s holdin’. Then we’ll dig up some of the rest of that dust you’ve hid, and the sooner you get to it, the sooner we’ll be done.”

  Feeling helpless to do anything about the confrontation between the stranger and Raymond, Cam could only hope for some opportunity to make a move to protect Mary and the girls. He was afraid of what he felt certain was slated to happen. This man Raymond called Rafer was a gun hand, a killer, and Raymond had evidently paid for his services. It was not difficult to imagine who the victim might have been. Rafer, like Cam, knew without doubt that there was a helluva lot more gold dust hidden somewhere around this camp. And Cam also knew that it was highly unlikely that Rafer planned to ride away, leaving live witnesses behind. He glanced furtively under the belly of the gray horse at the rifle and pistol he could see lying on his saddle, so close, yet they might as well be fifty yards away.

  Mary, frozen in fear moments before, began to think rationally again, and she gradually realized the same thing that Cam had figured out. The more she thought about it, the more angry she became, to the point where she ignored the risk and demanded, “What did you pay this man to do? Kill someone? Who did you have him kill?”

  Raymond recoiled as if having been struck with a club, his face contorted into a mask of anger. “Stay out of this, Mary. It ain’t got nothing to do with you.”

  Mary’s outburst seemed to amuse Rafer. “Yeah, Bishop, why don’t you tell her who you hired me to kill?”

  “All right, dammit!” Raymond blurted. “I’ll pay you what you want! Just take it and get the hell away from here.”

  “Now you’re startin’ to make sense,” Rafer said with a chuckle.

  “I’ll get the other sack out of the tent,” Raymond said.

  “You do that,” Rafer said, and as soon as Raymond disappeared into the tent, he drew the .44 from his holster, leveled it at the tent flap, and waited.

  Cam, aware of what was about to happen, knew there was only going to be one chance for him to act, and it was going to be desperate at best. While Rafer’s gaze was fixed upon the tent flap, Cam slowly lowered himself to one knee. With his eyes on Rafer, he felt around for a stone bigger than the ones he threw in the water to splash the girls. When his hand settled on one the size of a biscuit, he closed his fingers around it and waited. It was no more than a few seconds before he saw the tent flap move and the barrel of a shotgun emerge. Expecting such a move, Rafer did not hesitate. He pumped three shots into Raymond before the unfortunate man completely cleared the tent. He was about to cock his pistol for a fourth shot when he was startled by the solid thud of the stone on his back. Thinking he had been shot, he turned to find Cam charging him, his body already about to be launched. Rafer tried to bring his .44 to bear on the human missile, but he was knocked off his horse before he could get off another shot.

  Landing hard on the rocky stream bank, the two men fought desperately, each trying to gain the advantage. Rafer tried to force his gun hand down to aim at Cam’s chest, but he had not reckoned on the strength of the rugged young man. Gradually, Cam forced Rafer’s wrist back until he could no longer keep his grip on the pistol and it fell from his hand to land in the edge of the water. Straining mightily, the two men rolled into the stream, turning over and over in the water, each man struggling to land on top. The contest finally ended when Cam managed to get both hands on Rafer’s throat and forced his head under the icy water, and held him there until his hands ceased their frantic clawing and flailing, and his body went limp.

  Still holding the gunman under the water long after he knew he was dead, Cam looked up to see the shocked faces staring at him, the one most horrified that of little Emma. Exhausted, he released his death grip on Rafer’s body and crawled out of the water to drop onto the ground. At last able to gather her wits about her, Mary hurried over to him. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He nodded, then gasped, “Just give me a minute and I will be.” In a few seconds, his breath began to come a little easier and he said, “I’m sorry the girls had to see that.”

  When she saw that he really was all right, she said, “I guess they’ll get over it. You’d better get out of those wet clothes and put them by the fire to dry. I’ll go see about Raymond.” When he appeared reluctant to do it, she told him, “You can wrap your blanket around you till your clothes are dry.”

  He was amazed that she was already calm so soon after what had to have been a frightening experience for her. “I’ll drag him outta the water first,” he told her, “so Grace and Emma won’t have to look at him no more.” He got to his feet and walked down the stream a dozen yards where Rafer’s corpse had lodged itself against a rock.

  It was the first time she had seen the inside of Raymond’s tent, and even though Cam had told h
er of the excavation, she was surprised to find the pit Raymond had dug for his protection. It had all been for naught when the crucial time came, however, for she found him lying on the floor of the pit with three bullet holes, all high on his chest. She glanced around the earthen enclosure, lingering for a few moments on the one bunk with no blankets. It struck her that this was where Warren had slept, so many miles away from her, and she felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes. She had reached up to brush a tear from her cheek when she was distracted by a low moan from the body she had thought to be dead.

  “Cam!” she cried out. “He’s alive!” She looked back to see if he was coming; then when he started walking toward her, she dropped down inside the tent. Raymond was alive, but just barely. “Pull that flap away, so we can see in this dark hole,” she told Cam. Raymond’s eyelids fluttered weakly as he tried to tell her something, but he could scarcely make a noise. Knowing that he was rapidly dying, he forced himself to make a sound. “What is it you’re trying to say?” Mary asked.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, his voice rasping from the effort it took for him to speak. “I’m sorry.” Cam pulled back the flap and part of the front of the tent, and stood looking down into the hole. Raymond’s eyes opened wide for a moment and he moaned. “Warren! I’m sorry, Warren. Forgive me.” His voice trailed off then and he made no further sound, although he still stared up at Cam.

  After a long moment, Cam stepped down beside Mary, placed his fingers on Raymond’s eyelids, and closed them. “He’s gone,” he told Mary. “He was tryin’ to make his peace.”

  “He thought you were Warren,” she said, then looked up at him, a question in her eyes.