Hard Texas Trail

by Matt Chisholm

  ‘But you want a doctor,’ she said. ‘It could be poisoned.’

  ‘Find the old man’s whisky bottle,’ he told her. ‘Go on now.’ She walked away, searching for the whisky and Clay’s mind was on his two brothers, those two crazy kids out there in the brush searching for a would-be killer. He should be with them. A moment later, the girl came back with the whisky and Clay had a good drink from the bottle. Then he told her to describe the wound to him. She said it began at the neck and ran down at an angle across his shoulder blade to almost underneath his arm.

  ‘Other way around,’ he said. ‘It starts at the arm.’

  From the sound of it, the bullet had ploughed its way through his flesh and never settled. Going up like that, it was a wonder it hadn’t taken his fool head off.

  ‘Wash it out with the whisky,’ he ordered. He felt her fingers on his bare flesh and wounded or not, he liked that.

  George rode away from the house as if all the bats in hell were after him. He stirred that bay up with the quirt and kept it moving. He rounded the hill and then he had to slow because he couldn’t see anything moving. He hoped to hell that Jody had the fugitives within sight. Once you lost sight of anybody in the brasada you had to settle down to tracking and that could be a slow job. No, he and Jody had to ride right up to the butts of those gents and shoot ‘em off. Young George was loaded for bear and he reckoned he wasn’t going back to old Clay without a scalp on his belt.

  He searched around and he saw where some horses had swung around into the west and he went along the tracks, eyes on the ground. But this was slow and he started to grow pretty frustrated. He wanted a fight and he wanted it now.

  After a while, he heard a shrill cry and, raising his eyes, saw Jody far ahead of him. At least he thought it was Jody. He urged the bay forward and soon saw that it was his brother, although as soon as he saw that George was following him, the elder brother went on ahead again. George increased his pace and slowly gained on Jody.

  Jody yelled back: ‘They ain’t too far ahead. Their nags’re tired.’

  They were riding through low brush now and George thought he could see something moving ahead of them, but he couldn’t be sure. They swept on until they came to taller chaparral and came onto a narrow trail that would take no more than a horse and rider at a time. The brush closed over above them so they rode down a dimly-lighted tunnel. The men crouched low above their horses’ heads. George wondered just how sure Jody was that the men had come this way.

  When they burst out onto a wide glade a short while after, he knew Jody was right, for there were the two men ahead of them flogging their mounts for all they were worth.

  ‘We got ‘em,’ Jody whooped triumphantly.

  But his triumph was short-lived. They pounded their way to the center of the open space and the men ahead had disappeared into the brush. Neither of the boys heard the shot, but they heard the whine of lead and knew they were being shot at. Ahead of them, the gun smoke drifted bluely.

  George swung off to the left. Jody, yelling, went straight ahead. George reined around, thinking his brother was the biggest damn fool on earth.

  This opinion was confirmed when Jody’s horse went down. It slid its chin into the ground, its front legs crumpled under it and Jody was hurled off the bare back. He landed running, tripped and went down. It was as well he did, for the lead sought him out.

  George thought: Two horses inside the hour. That’s bein’ kinda extravagant.

  Jody had the sense to crawl behind his horse and stay there. One of the men in cover, turned his gun on George. The boy dismounted with some haste, slapped his horse away and lay on the ground with his rifle. There wasn’t much cover there, little more than a dip in the ground. But he had a rifle and he knew where the men were. He started making it hot for them. If they had any sense, they’d use their cover and get on their way. Jody started shooting at them with his belt-gun. It wasn’t much use at that range, but no doubt it was some help.

  After a while, the men in the brush decided to call it a day. The light was starting to go. George heard them depart. He stayed where he was for a while, not quite sure that it wasn’t a trick and Jody did the same. But the elder brother’s patience ran out first and he climbed to his feet.

  He yelled to George to catch up his horse and come on over. George did that, put away his rifle and led the animal to Jody.

  ‘You gettin’ through the remuda pretty fast,’ George said looking down at the dead beast.

  Jody snarled.

  ‘Mount up,’ he said. ‘We’ll go back double.’

  George said: ‘Maybe I want to go on after ‘em on my lonesome.’

  ‘You Goddam crazy or somethin’?’ Jody said. They’ll knock you off for sure in this light. I’ll tell you what we do -we go on home. Before dawn tomorrow we come back here with fresh broncs, grub and ammunition. First light, we pick up them bastards’ trail and we stay on it till they’re dead.’

  It sounded like a good idea to George. Even coming from Jody. He had to admit it.

  ‘All right,’ he said. He mounted and his brother got up behind him. Slowly they made their way home through the brush. By the time they neared the house, it was full dark. In both their minds was thought of Clay - how bad was his wound?

  They knew he was still around when they were challenged as they reached the corner of the corral. They called back and went forward. Clay was sitting on the stoop with a rifle in his hands.

  ‘Did you get him?’ Clay asked.

  ‘It wasn’t a him, it was a they,’ Jody said. ‘An’ we didn’t get ‘em.’

  George said: ‘All we got was another dead horse. Our brother sure is good at losing horses.’

  ‘Will you keep your fool mouth shut?’ Jody demanded.

  ‘Put your horse up an’ come inside and eat,’ Clay said. They went into the house and the boys saw that a lamp was alight, but the shutters were up at the windows. It made it stifling inside the house. Sarah was there. She came forward.

  ‘Did you see who it was?’ she asked.

  ‘Bearded feller,’ Jody said. ‘Yeller beard.’

  ‘Sounds like the feller that come for you that night,’ George said. ‘Said he was your husband.’

  ‘It’s him,’ she said.

  They could all feel her fear.

  ‘We’ll get him tomorrow, Sarah,’ Jody said. ‘Don’t you fret none.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Clay woke. He woke as he had intended to, long before light.

  It took real effort to get off his bed. He sat on the edge, gritting his teeth against the pain in his back. He listened, the house was still.

  With some difficulty, he dressed himself. He walked out of the house and called softly. George answered from the corral. He had taken last guard. He came through the fence and approached.

  ‘What in hell’re you doin’ out here?’ he said. ‘You should be restin’ up.’

  ‘Go wake Jody,’ Clay said, ‘an’ bring him out here.’

  George went into the house, wondering why Clay couldn’t have woken Jody. When the two boys came out of the house, they saw that Clay was in the corral roping a horse. Jody leaned on the fence and said: ‘What’re you supposed to be doin’?’

  Clay brought a chunky dun out of the corral and hitched it outside the fence.

  ‘Maybe those fellers lit out,’ he said, ‘an’ maybe they didn’t. Any road, this is what you do. Soon’s you’re through eatin’ breakfast, you saddle up and you take Sarah to the cave. The old man’s cave. Take enough supplies for a week. You stay put till I come an’ find you.’

  ‘I can see it all,’ Jody said. ‘You want to play the Goddam hero. You’re goin’ to waltz off after them fellers an’ you’re goin’ to show Sarah what a great big strong brave hero you are.’

  ‘Jody -’ Clay said warningly.

  ‘That’s what it sounds like to me,’ said George.

  ‘You just do like I say.’

  ‘What makes you think we ha
ve to do like you say?’

  ‘Pa put me in charge.’

  ‘You’re wounded. You’re relieved of command.’

  ‘Quit playin’ the fool, boy,’ Clay said, his voice rising, ‘I ain’t in no mood-’

  The girl’s voice cut coolly through his words.

  ‘What’s going on out there?’

  They turned as she came toward them.

  Clay was mad. He wanted to be away from here before the girl knew what was happening.

  ‘Nothin,’ he said. ‘Just you go ahead and cook breakfast, Sarah.’ Time was short. He wanted to pick up the men’s trail as far forward as he could at first light.

  ‘Get my hull on this horse,’ he told Jody, ‘and look real smart about it. ‘

  The girl sounded shocked.

  ‘You don’t mean you’re thinking of riding?’ she said.

  ‘More than thinkin’,’ Clay shouted. ‘I’m doin’ it.’

  ‘No need to bellow at me like one of your wretched cows,’ Sarah cried.

  ‘An’ if I want to ride, ma’am, I ride,’ he said.

  ‘He’s as stupid obstinate as his old man,’ Jody said.

  ‘Are you going after those men?’

  ‘That’s what I’m goin’ to do.’

  ‘Let Jody and George go,’ she begged. ‘They’re not hurt.’

  He turned on her furiously.

  ‘An’ let them git killed?’ he shouted. ‘Why, you ain’t their...’

  He stopped, aghast at what he was going to say.

  Jody and George suddenly became motionless. The girl became still.

  ‘I’m not their what?’ she demanded.

  ‘I reckon I didn’t know what I was sayin’,’ he said lamely.

  Jody said: ‘Chicken.’

  ‘I know what it sounded like to me,’ George said.

  ‘And what did it sound like to you?’ the girl asked.

  ‘It sounded like Clay was sayin’ you was his girl. How ‘bout you, Jode?’

  ‘Reckon it did,’ said Jody.

  ‘Well?’ Sarah said, turning back to Clay.

  ‘Forget it,’ Clay said.

  ‘Are you going to forget it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then say it.’

  Jody said: ‘Keep a-comin’, Sarie. Any minute now you’ll get a proposal, I wouldn’t wonder.’

  Clay cleared his throat.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll say it.’

  The girl swung on the other two.

  ‘You clear out of here, you two,’ she cried.

  They howled that it wasn’t fair, but she drove them away. They stomped across the yard to the barn and the girl turned to Clay.

  ‘Well, ‘ she said, ‘say it.’

  ‘You’d be crazy to say “yes”,’ he said. ‘But will you marry me, Sarah?’

  Softly, she replied: ‘I’d be crazy to say “no”.’

  He stared at her in the false dawn, not moving.

  ‘But it’s not fair,’ she went on. ‘I know who I’m saying “yes” to. You don’t know a thing about me.’

  He came and took ahold of her arms and looked down into her eyes.

  ‘You know I don’t have to know any more.’

  ‘You do. You have to know before you ride after them. When you know why they want to kill me, you may not want me.’

  ‘If it’s somethin’ you’ve done, it won’t make no difference, ‘ he told her.

  ‘It’s not something I’ve done,’ she said. ‘It’s something I am.’

  In a quiet voice, he asked: ‘What are you?’

  She drew her breath in sharply and said: ‘I’m rich.’

  The answer was so unexpected that he couldn’t say a word for a moment.

  ‘Rich?’ he said, gawping like a fool.

  Then he laughed.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  He drew her to him, still chuckling.

  ‘What’s so wrong with bein’ rich?’ he said. ‘Is it a crime or somethin’?’

  ‘I thought,’ she said, ‘with me being rich and you ... well, Clay, you know what I mean.’

  ‘What’s so special about bein’ rich?’ he said. ‘Why, four-five years, I’ll maybe get rich too.’ Then he sobered. ‘Why should they want you dead because you’re rich?’

  ‘Hurley’s my cousin,’ she said. ‘It’s as simple as that. If I’m dead, he inherits. Crude and simple. Blessed tried to marry me first. He had an agreement with my cousin that they’d divide my fortune when he married me if Lincoln Hurley would help him. When I refused, they decided to kill me. The Indians didn’t take me, Clay. I ran to them. I was safe with them from those two men. Now do you see? ‘

  ‘I see all right,’ he said.

  He told her what he had planned, about her hiding out in the cave. She protested strenuously and he told her shortly that he knew perfectly well what he was doing. It was his opinion that the two men would circle and make another try at her. They were tenderfeet in this country and he knew every inch of it. He was going to hunt them as they hunted her. She would be as safe as she ever could be with the boys at the cave.

  ‘Take me into town,’ she said. ‘I’ll be safe there.’

  ‘They’d like nothin’ better than that,’ he said. That would be real good evidence that you were dead. They’d rather have you in town than here. Do like I say, honey.’

  She put her face against his chest. She could feel the thickness of the bandages under his shirt.

  ‘I think you’re going to be a hard husband,’ she said.

  He kissed her hair and said: ‘That sounds kind of nice.’

  She put her mouth up to be kissed then and he obliged. They were still kissing when the two boys came whooping from the barn. When they came up, Jody said: ‘Looks like it’s all signed, sealed and settled.’

  Clay grinned.

  ‘For once in your life,’ he said, ‘you’re right.’

  Sarah said: ‘Isn’t there some other way? Do you have to go after them, Clay? Couldn’t we hide?’

  Clay told her: ‘You’re goin’ to hide an’ I’m goin’ after them.’

  ‘One of us can stay with Sarah,’ George said. That’ll leave two to hunt ‘em. Or, better still, wait till the rest of the crew come in.’

  Clay said: ‘We do it my way.’

  They saddled his horse for him. George fetched his rifle and put it away in the boot. Clay stepped into the saddle and Sarah came to rest a hand on his knee.

  ‘You better come back to me without any more holes in you,’ she threatened. ‘Please, please be careful.’

  ‘I’ll be careful,’ he said. He told his brothers: ‘You two know what to do. Git movin’.’ He patted Sarah’s hand and neck-reined the horse around. He rode away for the brush. Just before he disappeared, he turned in the saddle and lifted a hand.

  Sarah turned away for the house. She wanted to be alone for a moment. It seemed that she had gained and lost Clay in the same moment. As she walked past him, George said softly: ‘He’s awful good at lookin’ out for himself, Sarah.’

  She smiled appreciatively at him and went into the house.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was the squabbling of the vultures that turned Clay from the tracks. They summoned him to their grisly feast. There was not much left of the man, but, from his gear, Clay knew that in life it had been Manning Oaks. The sight sickened and saddened him, for he had ridden a good many miles with the cowhand. Once Manning had been a good man. He had earned his keep. Only at the end had things gone sour. With him dead that seemed a terrible pity.

  But Clay turned his mind from his regrets and rode for the glade where Jody and George had lost the fleeing men. The sky was clearing rapidly now and it was full sunlight by the time Clay reached the spot where the remains of Jody’s dead horse lay. The tracks of the fugitives were plain to see and Clay set off along them with scarcely a pause.

  Riding wasn’t easy for him and the wound in his back gave him discomfort all the time and pain
most of the time. He only hoped that the effort of riding would not open the wound again. One thing he could not afford was loss of blood. He had to hunt these two men down and kill them. He knew that there could be no compromise. No thought of his taking them to law came to him. They threatened the girl’s life and they must be stopped. It was as simple as that.

  They were going north as directly as the narrow trails they were riding would allow. He rode the whole morning through, knowing that he wasn’t traveling at their speed, but just the same keeping a good pace. It wasn’t the hottest time of the year by any means, but it was hot enough in the narrow rides. The brush seemed to press in on him from all sides. He was thankful when, near noon, he came to water and could drink his fill. The horse, which was also feeling the heat, was equally grateful to stop and drink.

  They crossed the narrow creek and the tracks stopped. Neither of the riders had left the water on the further side. Clay swore. He knew that soon or late he would pick up the tracks again, but he would be losing precious time. He wondered how smart the men were going to prove in this country and how much of a dance they were going to lead him. He became nervous that they were going to do what he had suspected - to circle and make another try for the girl again.

  Reasoning that they might be attempting to head for town, he turned east up the creek bed and rode for more than an hour searching for sign on either side of the creek, but failing to find it. By this time, he wasn’t feeling at all well and began to suspect that maybe his wound was fouling up on him and the fever was starting in him. He began to be a little scared that he might fail to save the girl. But that mustn’t happen. Whatever came to pass he must get them before they found Sarah. His searching now became a little frantic. By the middle of the afternoon, he reckoned they had made a fool of him and were now miles ahead of him. He should have listened to his brothers and brought one of them along with him, then one of them could have searched in one direction while he went in another. He was a self-opinionated fool.

  He turned and went back the way he had come, passed the spot where he had entered the water and then headed west along the creek bed, his eyes searching either side of the creek. Late in the afternoon, he found what he wanted. Yet it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He found tracks all right, but he found the tracks of one horse going up on the right-hand bank and the tracks of another going up the left-hand bank.