High-Riding Heroes

by Joey Light

  God, what a nightmare. “Morning, Katie. Did you sleep well?” She certainly hadn’t. As she pulled the warm, soft little girl against her for a hug, something was trying to push itself to the front lines of her brain cells. Yes. That was it. Wes. The turncoat. Traitor. Benedict Arnold. Her heart broke. And then the sharp pieces stabbed their way through her system. She flopped back down on the bed, willing her body to feel. Nothing.

  It was as if her body had traded itself for Styrofoam. No emotion seeped out through the little white holes of her existence. She was only an entity with her brain trapped on top.

  As her feet touched the floor, determination thudded into her gray matter. Bullheaded and pious men. She’d stay. Just long enough to make them wish they had never heard her name. Never laid eyes on her. And after she made them the sorriest bunch of cowpunchers to exist on earth, she’d leave. Back to her vets, back to her friends…and what? The constricting life at Twin Forks where her life was being squeezed from her? No. Not to stay but she would go somewhere. Glory Town could go to hell. She’d open her own town and put them out of business. Yes, that was an idea. See, all she had to do was think clearly. And to do that she had to keep some distance between herself and J. Weston Cooper. Damn.

  She couldn’t believe that she could begin to love a man and then find out he was deceitful…or had he really, truly come to love her?…No. She wouldn’t analyze it. She would go on instinct. As Wes had taught the men, she would come out with both guns blazing and let the chips fall where they may. No play-acting. No guesses. No more wondering. She’d been a fool once before, but it would never happen again. But he loves me, her mind cried. Hah! her brain answered. Taking a deep breath, she smiled at the little girl waiting for her and thanked whatever gods watched over fools that all emotion was replaced by cold, startling anger.

  “Well, Katie. Let’s you and me mosey on down to the dining room and see what Joe is serving for breakfast. Did I say that right?”

  Katie giggled and Victoria took that as a yes. Pulling on her jeans and cotton shirt, she jammed her feet into her Western boots, blisters be damned. Victoria dressed for battle.

  Dazzled. That must be it. And thrown by the death of her horse.

  Excuses. Excuses. She was a bad judge of things. Now she had the proof. And she was going to swing it by the tail.

  She took Katie by the hand and they literally marched down the stairs to the dining room.

  “Your daddy’s first staged bank robbery is being rehearsed at nine. Watch me throw a monkey wrench in the works.”

  Katie looked up at Victoria and asked her, “What’s monkey works?”

  Victoria threw her head back and laughed. A cold, calculated laugh. Watch. Just watch, she thought as she smiled at the sweet little girl. “After breakfast I want you to stay and help Joe. I’ll be back later and we’ll do something. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  As she ate, she plotted. Everything was supposed to go smoothly just because “big man” had choreographed the scene. By now everyone must be in on the joke. Get the girl to leave town. By sundown. Ha! After today they would be praying for her to leave. She could play the game, too.

  “Joe. Look after Katie for me for a while, will you?”

  “Of course. After I dry these few dishes, me and Katie will go down to the barn and saddle that new pony her daddy bought her the other day. I’ll keep a good eye on her, don’t worry.”

  “Thanks, Joe. I won’t be long.” No, this would take only minutes. A short amount of time to put things in order.

  Chapter Ten

  She stomped out into the glaring sunlight. Victoria looked up on the roof, shading her eyes with her hand from the sun. Yes, good old Nick was there preparing to be shot down, to act out his spiraling fall from the building. She had seen it plenty of times and he was good. She toyed with the idea of moving his air-filled mattress, just a few inches one way, but shoved it aside. She couldn’t get much revenge if she was going to have to spend the rest of her days behind bars for murder, although at this point she knew she was capable of it.

  She moved quickly. She had no problem finding the tools to build her revenge. A hammer. Screwdriver. Three potted cactus plants. A trip to the kitchen netted her a half-full can of shortening. She checked to be sure she had a pair of handcuffs swinging from her belt and that her gun was loaded with blanks.

  Running to the barn, she swung around the corner only moments before the men filed in. In the prop room, she slashed slits in the bottoms of the money bags. She grabbed the crowbar and was running out again unseen. At the bank she was able to quickly complete her work. She pried two boards off the walk and then set them back

  so they appeared to be stable.

  Placing a few cactus plants strategically made her chuckle. She tapped the bolts from the door loose so that it would take one swing open but probably not the second. Tying a rope around one end of the porch post, she coiled it and hid it for later.

  Most of the other reenactors not involved in this skit gathered around to watch the results of Wes’s hard work.

  Eight men were involved in this show, two on the roof because the band of desperadoes was expected and was to be ambushed. Two men were in the bank and four were holdup men. She knew Wes would cross the street and watch from a good vantage point to pick up any mistakes. She hoped he saw every detail.

  When he walked down the road to take his place, just seeing him squeezed her heart. But she pushed the feeling away and took a place close by. Larry and Jeff took their places inside the bank as tellers. Tim joined Nick atop the building. Wes signaled and the action began.

  From the west, the desperadoes rode up, guns drawn and bandannas covering their faces. Dismounting, they whipped the reins in a circle over the hitch rail, looked this way and that, and then dashed into the bank. Victoria held her breath when one of the men teetered over a loose board but relaxed when he simply pounded on into the bank.

  Now she had only seconds to act. It didn’t matter at this point that she would be seen. No one could stop the chaos that would follow. She pulled the loose boards up and tossed them aside, leaving enough of a space to trip them yet not wide enough to break an ankle. Then she stretched the rope across the walk and let it lie there. Running around the horses, she smeared great gobs of shortening on the saddles. Back beside the porch post, she held the end of the rope with one hand and her revolver with the other and waited…

  In five seconds the men backed out of the bank. The door flopped aside and down with a loud crash. The men jumped, startled, but recovered right away. After all, they were actors and nothing should stop the scene.

  Firing their pistols, they made a break for the horses. The first two men stumbled on the missing boards, fell, looked around confused, but righted themselves and went for their mounts. The last two men sprawled into the dust when they tripped over the rope she wrapped around the post and drew tight, cussing when they rolled into the cactus pots and picked up some spines. Victoria’s wicked laughter rolled across the air.

  And then again, she laughed as the two men swung into the saddles only to slide almost off the other side. The play money finally worked its way through the bags and fluttered out and up on the breeze. While the men struggled to stay in the greased saddles, the horses circled and skittered in confusion. Victoria jumped toward the two men sprawled on the ground and handcuffed them together. Working her gun, she killed the two on horseback and then ran into the street to fire at the men on the roof. She plowed them unexpectedly. Nick laughed and took a dive to his mattress. Tim holstered his gun and merely stood, guffawing and holding his stomach muscles at the hapless group below.

  Both hands raised in the air in triumph, she turned to face Wes and Buck with a bright smile on her face. Confusion. Anger. The reenactors dusted themselves off and lined up. They waited to find out what this was all about.

  Victoria heard one of the men lose his seat in the saddle and hit the ground with a thud and a four-letter word. She
leveled her gun at Wes and Buck and walked slowly toward them, gunfighter-like.

  “Bang bang. You’re dead,” she said and stopped fifty feet from them.

  Both men were still stunned and speechless. They stood staring at her, waiting and watching for her next move. Neither man could decide just what it was he was witnessing.

  Victoria advanced again a little slower. “All you high-riding heroes are the same. Egos. Giant glass ones. Come one, come all. I’ve got a story to tell. About a town full of traitors and pious little people who thought they could band together and get rid of the gutless creature from the East.”

  Wes took a step toward her, a smile creeping across his mouth. This had to be a joke. Buck shook his head and hooked his thumbs in his belt.

  Victoria stopped Wes from coming one step closer when she fired her gun in the air. “One more step J. Weston Big Man Cooper, the teacher, the cowboy…the turncoat and I’ll blow your cocky head off. See, I can play the game, too. Only this time, I almost wish the blanks were bullets so I could shoot you in the butt.

  “Thought you could hire ole Wes here to scare me off, did you, Buck? Low, underhanded snake. You made a fool of me, all of you.” She waved the gun around to include everyone. “Well,” she laughed, “now we’re even. You should see yourselves. Well, I can stay and make your lives hell since I own half of this, half of you. Or I could demand that my half be bought out or have this place sold. Or I can fire all of you and get a new crew. But you all would like that too much. Then I would be exactly what Buck wants you to believe I am.”

  “Now listen, missy,” Buck began.

  “No, you listen. I came here eager and willing to learn. Anxious to fit in and be a part of what I thought was a nice but weird family. I liked you. I liked all of you. But worse, I trusted you. And then you hired Wes to get rid of me, discourage me. How dare you? All of you were in on it. All of you.” She swung her hand in a wide circle. “And you all betrayed me.” Her heart was encased in steel and the coldness it splayed throughout her system threatened to make her sick.

  How the hell did she find out? Who told her and what did they tell her? Wes turned to the small crowd and quietly asked them to disperse. They did, but some were very reluctant.

  They wanted to see how this turned out. Whatever it was. They were at a loss as to what Victoria was talking about. But it was obvious that Buck and Wes knew.

  Nick disappeared. Tim climbed down from the roof.

  Wes walked to Victoria. He had never wanted her to find out. Didn’t have any idea how she had. But he damn sure was going to be certain she knew the whole story. “Point taken. Now, let’s you and me and Buck go to the hotel and sit down and have a talk. You’ve had your laugh at our expense.”

  She holstered the gun. Tears burned behind her eyes but she refused to let them fall. This little joke of hers hadn’t lent itself to the satisfying result she thought she would feel. She merely seemed more the fool. Anger jumped in to protect her.

  “No more talk. None. I’m out of here. I just wanted you all to taste the bitterness of being the court jester before I left.” She jerked her arm from Wes when he moved to pull her near him.

  His dark eyes sparked dangerously when he reached to stop her again. “You seriously think I’ll let you walk away from here, from me, without a fight? The middle of the street is no place to talk about this.”

  His eyes. What she saw there…or wanted to see almost cast her resolve aside. A flash of memory of the two of them, tangled together in ecstasy, feverishly uniting in the act of love, made her face burn. The remembrance of their soft words and contentment as she lay with her head on his chest almost broke her heart. But now her heart was lead, only a heavy, emotionless weight beneath her breast.

  Buck sided with Wes. “Wes is right, Vic. Once you understand…you don’t know what you think you know. For once in your life listen to me.”

  She shook her head. “The choice isn’t yours. Not anymore.

  I wouldn’t believe a word you said, either of you. So back off and…”

  The sound of defeat in her voice, the look of weariness in her eyes scared the hell out of Wes. A desperation sliced through him when he realized just how serious all this was. He had to set it right. It couldn’t all go for nothing. He didn’t want life without her.

  “Fire! Fire! The barn’s on fire.” The cry split the air and it seemed the dispersing crew took flight all at once like a gaggle of startled geese.

  The three of them turned in unison half expecting this to be another joke but instead saw the black smoke billowing and spiraling from the roof of the old barn.

  Terror froze the blood in her veins. Victoria’s heart clogged her throat. “My God. Katie’s down there with Joe to ride her pony.”

  Wes grabbed her arm. “Katie’s down there?” She didn’t miss his look of disbelief and then panic before he was off and running, followed by everyone within earshot.

  Shock and horror kept Victoria rooted to the spot for several seconds before she was able to make her feet go. Running for the phone to dial nine-one-one, she prayed and damned herself for not keeping the child with her. This was her fault. It hit her as she hung up the phone and started back toward the barn, running for dear life.

  She prayed someone would wake her up and it would all be some cruel nightmare, but as she approached the fire scene she knew it wasn’t. The heat. The sparks zinging toward the sky. The dazed and broken voices of the people moving everywhere around her told her it wasn’t.

  The old boards and the stacks of hay fed the fire quickly. By the time Wes slid around the corner, the doorway was engulfed in flames. The wind was coming from the opposite end of the barn and had the front end blocked with searing heat and smoke. The townspeople coupled hoses and some lined up starting a bucket brigade from the water troughs but the fire was quickly getting out of hand.

  His heart pounded in his head. His little girl was inside that hell pit. He had to get to her. Some of the men were jerking on the side door. The metal was hot and smoke hindered their movements. “Katie!” Wes ran to the end that was still free of flames and tried to pry the boards loose with his hands. “Katie!”

  Victoria remembered the crowbar and turned back. She returned wielding it like a sword. She pounded at the boards with it. Wes jerked it away from her and stuck it between two slabs of wood. The boards creaked, split, and finally gave way. It was hot. Incredibly scorching. Sweat streaked his face and plastered his shirt to his body. Smoke blackened them both as they tore at the boards. More men came and pried and hammered at the wood. Incredible heat pushed at her as they made the opening wider. The men shoved her aside.

  Choking and coughing, hands bleeding from splinters, Victoria slumped against the fence and prayed. Wes’s horse was the first to find the opening and he thundered out. Wes bolted through the same opening, into the gray, airless building. The fire roared like a train engine. Wes didn’t come out. He had disappeared into that blazing inferno of hell and he hadn’t come out.

  In slow motion, like an old movie flickering on the screen, the cold, hard reality of what was happening made its way through her shocked brain. Wes. Katie. Her entire life was in that barn. In that fire that tauntingly promised to take them away from her.

  A new strength surged into her veins, reinforcing her. She got up running. Pushing her way past the men and into the barn, she screamed Katie’s name over and over in the darkness only to gulp and choke. Somehow, remembering fire rules, she fell to the ground to crawl, knowing there would be some air there. The hole they had torn in the end of the building had created a backlash and the flames licked at her. She snaked along frantically.

  “Wes!” The only two people in the world whom she loved more than life itself were in here, dying. Oh God, dying. She heard wood give and crash to the ground. Freezing, she waited to be justly crushed beneath the falling timbers. A new shower of sparks singed her hair and burned her skin like sparklers on the Fourth of July.

  She s
hould never have let Katie out of her sight. Hadn’t Wes left Katie with her? But no, she was too hell-bent on revenge. “Katie,” she screamed, her throat raw and her voice cracking.

  Vaguely Wes heard Victoria’s cries and he damned her for coming in here. And then he found them. Relief flooded through him, threatening to slow him down. They were slumped together in the back stall, unconscious. The pony was down. Grabbing Katie like a rag doll and dragging Joe by the collar, he began making his way back toward the opening. Flames licked at his clothing and the heat baked his skin. Thick black smoke cut his air off completely. Knowing his lungs would burst before he could get the bodies out, he forged forward…toward the opening. Timbers creaked and snapped as they swayed and crashed down all around him. With each movement, new molten heat reached for him. Any second the building was going to collapse. Katie and Joe in his hands, his mind flew to Victoria. She was still in here somewhere.

  Outside, the fire trucks arrived and hooked up. Trained and detached, the professionals ran their routine. Drowning what was left of the building, they fought the stubborn flames. The hiss and snap sizzled in the air.

  Wes nearly stumbled over Victoria. So glad to feel that he had the child in his arms, she groped around until she had Joe by the collar and yelled, “Get her out.” She pushed at Wes’s leg. “I’ll bring him.”

  Wes hesitated only a second. His child. His baby was going to die if he didn’t get her out. And the woman he loved…he reached down with his free hand and tried to yank her along.

  But with the added weight of Joe… “Go! Go!” she screamed and he bolted for the hole in the wall, his daughter held tightly in both arms.

  “Go. Go!” she shouted after him. Victoria crawled and pulled, snaked along and dragged. If she died, it would only be right. She had acted like the spoiled, stupid child they had all thought she was. But not Katie. And not Joe. He was heavy. She managed to drag him only an inch or two at a time. She heard him moan and it encouraged her. Fortified, steeling herself to the pain, she squeezed her eyes shut against her own sweat and forged on. And then Wes was back and others were with him.