It was well into the middle of the afternoon when The Wildcats and Manuel with six of his men, rode into the outlaw town hideout. The sun was hanging midway toward the mountain horizon and the clear blue of the western sky was beginning to pale.
The riders wasted no time in searching the town and the underground passageways. They had found the dead bodies of the three young outlaws, Butch and Ace and the tracks of a loaded wagon in the cave. The horses Rap and Chief Henry had seen were also gone. There was no sign of any money, silver or any kind of other loot left behind.
They had ridden a short distance from the mouth of the cave when they found two of the extra horses that Peso Martin and Lonnie Shaw had let loose. They were grazing idly in a meadow of green grass.
A little farther on, still following the wagon tracks of the fleeing two outlaws, they found another horse. This one was saddled and bridled and was cropping grass in the shade of large cottonwood tree. At the base of the tree’s trunk, the shape of a man’s body sat on the ground; his back leaning up against the bark of the tree, his head bowed with his chin against his chest.
The riders rode quickly toward the man. His horse shied away as the new arrivals slid their mounts close. The man didn’t seem to stir nor acknowledge their arrival.
Kitty was the first to slip from the saddle; even as her pony was still sliding to a halt. She squatted beside the man and saw that he had been shot. His shirt was caked with dried blood to the left of his chest. She tilted the man’s chin up and searched his face for signs of life.
Cyclone and Jeremy had just dropped on bended knees behind her, when she felt a slight movement of the man’s head in her hand. Rap and Henry had also dismounted, but remained standing. They were cautioning Manuel and his men to stay in their saddles.
“That is The Sonora Kid,” Manuel stated from his perch. “He steal from Manuel. Let heem die.”
Without turning, Cyclone said over his shoulder, “Rap! He says another word, shoot him.”
Rap smiled wryly at Manuel. He flourished his gun barrel at the Mexican leader. “Go ahead, greaser. Say a word.”
Manuel shifted uneasily in his saddle.
Kitty ran her fingers over the man’s stubbled cheeks, and as if they brought life to him, his dark eyes opened a bit. First as slits and then to half open. A slight upward turn of his lips was all he could force as a smile.
“I.. I must be……….,” he croaked out feebly
“Shh…., shh……” Kitty consoled, sliding her hand across his forehead. He was burning up with fever.
“................dreaming,” the man finished, forcing it out. “Angel,” he declared weakly. “Can’t be heaven….for me.”
Jeremy, seeing the man still alive quickly darted to his horse and retrieved his canteen and returned to his sister.
“Don’t talk,” Kitty whispered as she unstoppered the canteen and held it to the man’s parched lip. They had already begun to split due to the dryness. She spilled a drop onto his lips first and gradually moistened them until the man was responding enough to give him a swallow.
It took several minutes before the man began to come around, but eventually his eyes were wide open and he began to become aware of the people surrounding him. His thirst for more water began to overtake him and he reached for the canteen eagerly. Kitty held it back and maintained control. She gave him a little more and then some more. It seemed to give him ease, and then, with the relief, he relaxed and closed his eyes. He drifted back into unconsciousness.
The sun was just tipping the top spires of the western horizon when the man awoke.
Kitty and the others drew close as the man stirred and opened his eyes. He seemed to be feeling better. He gazed down at his chest. His shirt was gone. He had been washed and his shoulder and chest were expertly bandaged.
“Who….? Who’re you?” He managed to ask. He moved slightly; then winced as he felt the pain of his wounds.
“We found you, here. Shot,” Kitty said. “You were lucky. The bullet hit under your left breast and traveled upward through the excess flesh. It exited and strafed along your shoulder. You lost a lot of blood, but nothing vital was hit and the bullet wasn’t stopped.”
Rafe Price suddenly remembered how he had stumbled backward when Peso Martin shot him. That must have accounted for the bullet not hitting him directly.
“Do you remember what happened to you?” Kitty asked. “You know who did this to you?”
If he had the strength to chuckle he would have. “Yeah. I know who did this.” He thought about it for a moment, savoring the expectation of revenge. Kitty eyed him closely, waiting and hoping for an explanation.
Rafe gazed into her eyes, reading the curiosity that resided there. Then suddenly, those eyes became familiar to him. Was it because he had seen her face in the fog of delirium when he thought her an angel? No it was something else. “Do I know you?” He suddenly asked Kitty.
“I.. I don’t think so,” she answered, but the question did prompt her memory and she did think there was something familiar about him. “I’m Kitty Carlin,” she said.
“Do you know who I am?” Rafe persisted.
“I’ve been told you are The Sonora Kid,” she answered.
“Yes. The Sonora Kid. That’s what they call me now, but you don’t remember me do you? Of course not. You were much younger than me. You were just a little girl the last time I saw you. You certainly have changed.” He smiled. “For the better, I must say.”
Kitty stared quizzically into his face. The more she stared, the more she seemed to feel some sort of resemblance and recognition. Then suddenly, it came back to her. “Rafael?” she asked. “Rafael Price?”
“Yes,’ Rafe said. “Rafe Price. Sonora Kid. Makes no difference. No good whatever I’m called.”
“You related to Simon?” Cyclone asked.
“His son,” Kitty answered for him. Her voice turned hard. Then to Rafe. “You into something with your father, here?” She demanded.
“My father,” Rafe answered scornfully. “He’s always into something. He has a way of getting everybody in with him.”
“Just what did happen here?” Kitty asked. “Who shot you? And why?’”
“You know the why. Money, silver. As for who, I’ll take care of that.”
“You kill those men back in the cave?” Cyclone asked.
“No, but I’ll take care of who did.”
“Same fella that shot you, I suppose,” Cyclone muttered.
“What about the other man?” Kitty put in anxiously.
“The other man?”
“Yes. A man of the cloth. A reverend.”
“Reverend?” This time Rafe’s chuckle was stronger. “Hell, he wasn’t a reverend. He’s Lonnie Shaw. They call him The Blade. He’s a hired assassin. Good with a knife.”
“Assassin?” Kitty was stunned. “Then, he…….”
“Was hired to kill Governor Stanton. Officiating at a wedding was a good way to get close to him.”
“Where…? Where is he now?” At first Kitty had felt tears begin to well up inside her at the disappointment. She had been duped again by a smooth talking, good looking man. Anger took over and her face hardened.
“He’s gone back to the capitol.”
“So the wedding goes on again?”
“Not this time. Not without Matt Starr.”
“Matt Starr? What about Matt Starr?”
“He’s dead.”
It hit Kitty like a sledgehammer. Cyclone jolted and Jeremy let out a gasp.
“That’s impossible!” Kitty protested. Tears were already pouring out of her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. “It can’t be! It just can’t!” Forgetting about Rafe’s wounds, she grasped each arm and shook him, pounding his back against the trunk of the cottonwood. “You killed him you sonofabitch!”
Cyclone reached forward, taking her shoulders and pulling her back from Rafe.
“Settle down girl,” Cyclone said quietly. “Let’s hear what he’s got to say.”<
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Rafe cringed backward, pressing hard against the bark. His eyes still had fear and surprise in them and then they softened as Cyclone held Kitty back. “I’m sorry, Kitty,” he said. “I really am. and I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even know him. We found him on the trail. He was already dead.”
“We? Who’s we?” Kitty demanded as she broke away from her grandfather’s grasp. Her eyes pierced Rafe’s.
“That’s what I’ll be taking care of,” Rafe answered.
Kitty pursed her lips. Her jaws clenched hard together. She stood and stalked away to her horse. Grasping the pommel and cantle of her saddle, she steadied herself for a moment. She laid her cheek against the saddle and sobbed.
Half an hour later Kitty, Cyclone, Jeremy, Arapahoe Brown and Chief Henry Two Owls were once again in the saddle. Cyclone had already instructed Manuel to take care of the wounded Rafe Price and that he had better not hear where The Sonora Kid had met an untimely death or injury.
With much chagrin, Manuel had agreed to Cyclone’s demands. He was also considering how useful Price might be in recovering Snake Gunderson’s loot.
“You don’t have to come with me,” Kitty said again for the umpteenth time. She had regained her composure and resolve. She had decided what had to be done. Matt Starr would have done whatever was necessary to protect the governor and now it was up to her to follow through for him.
Lonnie Shaw already had several hours head start. It was a two day ride back if stopping to camp and sleep the first night out. Kitty was counting on Shaw not knowing there was any need for haste and would stop for sleep.
“I plan on riding straight through the night. We’ll have to pace the horses but we’ll have to keep going. It’ll be tough going and I hate to put the rest of you through it,” Kitty said.
“We allus all go together,” Cyclone said. “That’s the way it’s been and that’s the way it stays. Just don’t you go worryin’ none about us.”
With a lash of the reins and jabs of spurs, they sent their mounts forward and rode off. Once more Wildcat Kitty, The Cyclone Kid and The Wildcat Gang were riding for justice again.
It had been dark for several hours when Maria heard the clip clop of a horse’s hoofs outside the little cabin. Her heart leaped into her throat. Oh no! She thought. It couldn’t be. Her husband could not be returning now. Not while the wounded gringo was still in her cabin. He would kill the gringo and he would beat her again.
She forced herself to the window and pulled the tattered curtain aside, just enough to peek through the bottom corner. She quickly dropped the cloth and fell backward, pushing herself up against the wall for support. Her breathing quickened and her heart pounded. It was her husband! He was back! What would she do now? All she could do, was pray.
The door burst open and the man’s body filled the doorway.
Manuel Gonzales was already in a foul mood. He had lost the trail of the wagon with Snake Gunderson’s loot and had to give up for the day. He was still seething over the treatment he had received from The Cyclone Kid earlier.
“What is going on here?” He demanded, seeing Maria cringing against the back wall. “Why are you standing like that? What have you done woman?”
His dark eyes scanned the shadowed interior of the cabin. His dark bushy brows pulled together as he gazed through the open drape of the bedroom doorway. He could see someone in the bed. A man!
His face pinched up into a snarl and he growled as he stepped forward and grasped a handful of his wife’s hair and dragged her with him as he stepped into to bedroom. He came to an abrupt halt as he recognized the unconscious man in the bed. Manuel Gonzales let go of his wife’s hair and shoved her across the room to land on the floor. A wide grin spread across his swarthy face. “Senor Matt Starr,” he chuckled to himself. “This is indeed a fortunate surprise to me, mi amigo. I just might find some use for you.”
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Chapter Twenty Nine
Wildcat Kitty and The Cyclone Kid Ride Again Page 31
