by Logan, Jake
Slocum was about to say he didn’t know. Then he looked down to see he’d just thumbed back the hammer of his Colt. “That was me,” he said while forcing himself to ease the hammer of the Colt back down into place. As he walked over to collect his field glasses, the pain from his twisted leg jabbed through his knee, ankle, and hip. It was better than a splash of cold water in the face to get him back on track. “Pick up your rifle.”
“I . . . don’t know if I can.”
“Go on, Ed. Whatever it is, it’s a long ways out by now.”
“But where are those other things? We never saw them coming!”
Slocum pounced on him almost as quickly as the attackers had. He grabbed the front of Ed’s shirt and shook him as he snarled, “You want to turn to jelly when something comes along to frighten you? Then you’ve got no damn business venturing past your own front porch! And if you don’t pick up your goddamn rifle right now and help me find those things that bushwhacked us, you’ve certainly got no excuse leading those good folks down at the wagons.”
Ed glanced in the general direction of the wagons as if he’d forgotten they were there. He tried to pull away from Slocum, but wasn’t able to break his grip. His second attempt was much more forceful, and he turned his back to both Slocum and the wagons so he could swipe the back of his hand across his eyes.
More than anything at all, Slocum wanted to knock him onto his ass. One good punch. That’s all it would have taken.
“I’ve got my rifle,” Ed said after stooping down to pick it up.
“Now get on your horse so we can ride out to those trees.” Slocum didn’t wait to see if his orders would be obeyed or not. He went to his horse, grabbed the saddle horn, and climbed up. It was something he’d done so many times that he hardly had to think about it. This time, Slocum was reminded of exactly which muscles he used and what joints were bending when pain from his leg damn near set his whole body on fire.
“You all right?” Ed asked when Slocum lowered himself down and stayed put. “Need some help?”
“I’m fine,” Slocum said in a sharp tone. “And I don’t need any help.”
Despite the warning and the daggers shooting from Slocum’s eyes, Ed still wanted to help. He refrained from extending his hand all the way, however, and stayed a few steps back until Slocum was fully in his saddle. Only then did the other man climb back onto his horse.
“Come on,” Slocum said before snapping his reins.
Ed fell into step a little ways behind him. From there, he shouted, “You sure we should just charge straight in like this?”
“You know where those men went?”
“No.”
“Then we go where we saw them last. Something tells me they were expecting to frighten us off. If that’s so, they won’t be expecting us to come at them so soon.”
They rode without another word passing between them. It wasn’t far to those trees, but felt like several miles to Slocum’s spinning head. While he wasn’t dizzy enough to fall from his horse, the faster Slocum moved, the more light-headed he became. He wanted to glance back to see if Ed was having the same trouble, but was concerned that doing so might cause him to wobble even more. He’d taken knocks to the head before and knew he just had to push through until he felt better. In fact, he was feeling better by the time he pulled back on the reins and climbed down from his saddle. Of course, that could have just been the fact that his feet were once more on solid ground.
The trees loomed over them, silently watching both men who stooped beneath branches stripped bare of their leaves to inspect the ground as if worshipping at their roots. Slocum stayed on one knee as he scooped up some twigs and lifted them to his nose. “Smell that?” he asked.
“Smells like a swamp.”
“Exactly. Here,” Slocum said while handing over the twigs. “Smell this and tell me if it’s familiar.”
At first, Ed was skeptical. When he took the twigs and grudgingly smelled them, his face brightened. “Yes! It smells like those things . . . those men that jumped us. This must be where they were hiding.”
Slocum picked up another twig and ran it between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m guessing this is the spot where we saw that howling . . . thing.”
“You mean that spirit?”
Now it was Slocum who wore the skeptical look.
“All right, then,” Ed snapped. “What would you have me call it?”
“It wasn’t no spirit.”
“Monster, then?”
“We don’t know what it was,” Slocum said definitively while straightening up and tossing the twig. “But whatever it is, it looks to be gone now. We’ll ride through these trees to make sure it’s gone and then head back to the wagons. Enough time’s been wasted as it is.”
Ed waited until they were both in their saddles before asking, “What about what that thing said? It warned us not to come here.”
“We’re already here,” Slocum said. “Not much to be done about that now but leave and we’re fixing to do that anyway.”
“It probably wants for us to turn back.”
Rather than twisting in his saddle, Slocum pulled hard on the reins to bring his horse around to face him. “Is that what you want, Ed? You want to come all this way and then turn tail and run just because some assholes jumped you? Didn’t you tell me that members of your party died when you were jumped before? You lost a wagon and many of your possessions.”
“I could hardly forget it,” Ed snapped angrily. “And I appreciate you not talking about it as if it was some small thing.”
“You and your people not only came back from that, you picked yourself up by your bootstraps and moved on when damn near anyone would have told you to stay put. That kind of gumption is part of the reason why I signed on to ride with you and yours. Hearing you talk the way you do about these crazy bandits that bushwhacked us, hearing the fear in your voice, makes me wonder if I was wise to follow you anywhere.”
The anger on Ed’s face slowly dissolved into confusion. “Those men, if that’s what they were . . .”
“It is what they were,” Slocum was quick to add.
“They weren’t after our money. They were just out to hurt us. Maybe kill us. What purpose would be served in that?”
“Looks like they made off in this direction,” Slocum said while waving toward the rest of the trees. “Doesn’t look like they circled back to the wagons, though.”
Ed shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t see where they went. They could be anywhere by now.”
Both men brought their horses back around so they were facing the direction from which they’d come. Without another word, they snapped their reins and tapped their heels against the horses’ sides.
Slocum grew more worried by the second. How could he have ridden this far, leaving the wagons behind?
Whoever those crazy, filthy attackers had been, they could very well have been meaning to draw away the wagons’ protection so more men could ambush them. It was an old tactic, but if Slocum had allowed it to work, he would have a hard time looking at himself in a mirror again.
7
Slocum and Ed found the wagons trundling along on the same trail, having made about as much progress as could be expected. As the wagons shambled to a halt, he and Ed were greeted by several questions asking about the howling noises and what some had thought was gunfire crackling in the hills. Slocum kicked around the notion of saying he and Ed had frightened away some wolves by shooting at them, but knew the stranger truth would leak somehow eventually. Since it would only seem worse after having been hidden, he and Ed gave them the bare bones of the story.
“You boys got jumped, huh?” Josiah grunted once the tale had been told.
Putting on a brave face while tying his horse to the lead wagon and climbing into the driver’s seat beside his wife, Ed r
eplied, “That’s right, but John and I sent them away with their tails between their legs.”
“Didn’t kill none of them?”
“At least one was wounded,” Slocum said while tying his horse to the cook’s wagon. “Probably more. I’m guessing they were just trying to spook us into offering up some sort of toll for using this trail.”
Tom McCauley had been watching intently. “Did they ask you to pay a toll?”
“Not as such. We didn’t give them the opportunity.” Slocum sat up straight and looked at each of the anxious faces in turn. Every man, woman, and child in that wagon train listened intently when he declared, “They took a run at us and we turned them back with nothing but lead in their hides to show for it. All we need to do now is stay alert, which is what we’ve been doing this whole time.”
“John’s right,” Ed told them. “This doesn’t change anything. We’ve made it this far and we’ll press on. When the next hardship comes, we’ll press through that as well. Once we get to Colorado and divvy up those mining claims, we’ll get together and swap stories about this journey for years to come. Tom and Josiah, you men are to take over scouting duty just like we planned. Let’s all just keep doing our part and move along. Daylight’s burning!”
Most of the sunlight was still being blotted out by the clouds, but some still made it through.
“What about that howling?” James Wilcox asked. Although Theresa wrapped an arm around him and whispered for him to be quiet, the skinny young boy fixed his eyes on Slocum as if the next words he spoke would be gospel.
Meeting the boy’s gaze, Slocum told him, “It was just someone all gussied up to catch our attention and frighten us. That’s all.”
“You swear?”
“If I knew any more than that, I’d tell you.”
That was good enough for James and it seemed to be good enough for everyone else. As Slocum climbed down from his saddle, Tom and Josiah climbed down from their wagons to untie horses that were kept independent of the wagon teams. After getting himself situated on his horse, Josiah looked in Slocum’s direction and grunted, “Yeah. Real good choice to bring you along. Can’t think of a better way to spend our money.”
“Shut your mouth, old man,” Tom said as he rode to the head of the wagons. “With all the complaining you do, it’s a wonder we haven’t cut you loose.”
Josiah laughed to himself and rode on ahead, leaving Tom and everyone else behind.
“Don’t mind him,” Theresa said as Slocum climbed up to sit beside her. He almost made it without a hitch, but one of his hands slipped and his weight was shifted to the leg he’d been using to climb aboard the wagon. Feeling a stab of pain through that entire side, he winced and let out a sharp breath. Theresa was right there to grab his arm and help him up. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “Are you hurt?”
“Just twisted my leg, is all,” he assured her.
But Theresa wasn’t having it. “Come on,” she said. “Follow me.”
“To where?”
“The back of the wagon. I’ve got some blankets and a few things in there that could help you feel better.”
“I don’t need any medicine.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “But you could stand to get off that leg for a spell.”
“Once I can sit down in that seat up there, I’ll be off my leg just fine,” Slocum insisted.
“And it’d be even better for you if you lay down and let me take a look at it.”
James clambered up behind his mother to peek over her shoulder. “Go on and go with her, Mr. Slocum. My ma’s a real good doctor.”
In response to the question written across Slocum’s face, she said, “No, I am not a doctor. I do know a thing or two about mending cuts or tending to bumps and bruises, though.”
“She’s real good at it,” James said. “I bet she can get you feeling right as rain if you do what she says!”
“I believe my son just wants to sit up here and drive the wagon on his own, but . . .”
“But,” Slocum conceded, “he does have a point. Fine. I’ll get in the back so we can get moving again.”
Despite his efforts to discourage her from helping him, Theresa insisted on draping one of Slocum’s arms across her shoulders as if he were nursing a broken leg. Since several of the others were watching, he kept his chin up and walked as steadily as he could while loudly rebuffing her attempts to coddle him. After he and Theresa had disappeared inside her wagon, Slocum heard some snickering at what were surely lewd guesses as to what they were truly doing once that tarp had been pulled across the opening behind them.
The interior of Theresa’s wagon was crammed with trunks, boxes, and a few pieces of furniture, all stacked neatly along the back and left side of the wagon. There was an area along the right side, just wide enough for someone to squeeze through if they turned themselves sideways, that she and James had been using for their sleeping quarters. Some of the boy’s books and a quilt Theresa had been working on were strewn at the back of the space. She pushed all of that aside so she could reach up to pull down some of the blankets and bedding that had been stuffed on top of the crates.
“Here,” she said while piling some pillows on the floor. “Lay down and put that leg up.”
Slocum did as he was told. “You know,” he grunted, “it’s less comfortable wedging myself in here than if I was sitting up front.”
She ignored that and stuffed a few folded blankets beneath his bent knee just in time to get it in place before the wagon started rolling again. “Take off that boot and let me have a look.”
Once again, Slocum followed orders. His foot, ankle, and most of his calf were covered in thick, dark bruises. When she saw that, Theresa let out a hissing breath as if she was the one feeling all of that wear and tear. “What happened?”
“Got hung up in one of my stirrups,” he grudgingly said. “Just like some stupid kid who’s never seen the back of a horse before.”
“That happened when you and Ed were ambushed?”
“Yeah.”
“There was more that happened than what you told us, wasn’t there?” When Slocum didn’t answer, she gave his foot a quick squeeze.
“Ow!”
“Tell me the rest of what happened.”
“There isn’t much.” Seeing that her hand was still poised above his sore foot, he quickly added, “Those men who ambushed us were strange, is all. There was a strange smell around them. I thought it was like . . .” Slocum stopped and leaned back into the folded blankets as Theresa hovered less than an inch in front of his face. “What are you doing?”
“There’s something on your face.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Your eyes are red. Looks like you’re tearing up.”
Slocum had felt a burning in his eyes, but hadn’t taken much notice of it since his twisted leg had hurt so much. With all the wind in his face while riding and the dirt that had been kicked up in the ambush, he hadn’t wasted much thought on why his eyes had been burning. Theresa, on the other hand, was much more concerned.
“Hold still,” she said. Having wrapped a kerchief around one hand, she dabbed at his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose as well as his cheeks and brow. “There’s something on you. Did you get any in your eyes?”
“I think it’s in there now,” he said. “In fact . . . damn! It burns.”
“Don’t rub it. You’ll only make it worse.”
“Can you tell what it is?”
She brought the kerchief to her nose and sniffed it tentatively. “Smells like some kind of sap. No . . . maybe some sort of glue?”
“Can’t be glue. Let me see.” Slocum sat up so he could smell the kerchief for himself. Although he couldn’t tell exactly what it was, the scent sure brought back memories. “That’s what
we smelled around those bushwhackers,” he said as he slumped back into the makeshift bed. The scent was weaker than before, but very distinctive.
“Stop trying to rub at those eyes,” she said.
Slocum would have insisted that he hadn’t done any such thing, but felt her fingers wrap around his wrist to pull his hand away from where it had been poised above his face. At that moment, he couldn’t help thinking back to the times when he’d seen Ed doing that very same thing after the ambush. At the time, he’d thought Ed was fussing with a scratch or had gotten so rattled that his emotions had gotten the better of him. But Ed hadn’t been cut in the face and he sure wasn’t the sort to cry like a baby when things took a turn for the worse. In fact, Slocum was starting to feel badly for considering those possibilities where Ed was concerned.
“Do you have a mirror?” he asked.
“Somewhere in here, I do,” she replied with a shrug. “But somewhere in here, I’ve got just about one of everything. What do you want a mirror for?”
“To see if there’s more of that stuff on my face.”
“I’m not about to root through everything just for that. Sit still,” she told him as she scooted in closer to him. “I’ll take another look.”
She braced herself with one arm on either side of him and leaned in close enough for Slocum to feel the warmth of her body, the soft touch of her breasts against his chest, and the delicate brush of her hair against his cheek. The more he resisted the urge to kiss her, the more difficult that task became. Finally, he gave in to the urge by placing a hand on the back of her head and drawing her closer so he could press his lips against hers.
Theresa responded out of instinct. Her arms wrapped around him as best they could considering the awkward way he was propped up on all those folded blankets. Her body pushed in even closer to him and she tilted her head to an angle that allowed her to kiss him even deeper. When Slocum opened his mouth, she was quick to follow suit and the first to slip her tongue against his lips.
They might have gotten even more carried away if she hadn’t accidentally dug her knee into his aching leg while trying to straddle him. When Slocum turned his head away and grunted in pain, she winced and covered her mouth.
