Comanchero Blood (A Dragoons Western Book 2)

by Patrick E. Andrews

  “Yes, sir,” Douglas said. “Okay, troopers, hand ’em over and let’s get a coupla cups out so’s we can give these folks a few swigs o’ water.”

  Karshchov touched Gavin on the sleeve. “Natalia has asked to speak with you, Gavin.”

  “I’m very busy right now, Basil,” Gavin said, not wanting to get close to the young woman.

  “I think it would be most unkind of you not to,” Karshchov said.

  “Of course,” Gavin said, relenting. “I’m sorry. Let’s go see her now.”

  The two walked over to where the Russians sat. Karshchov said a few words to them in their language. A couple of the men got to their feet and walked over to Gavin with smiles, holding their hats in their hands and bowing.

  “Spasibo! Spasibo!” they exclaimed.

  “They are thanking you,” Karshchov explained to Gavin. “I have told them they will get a bite to eat and a swallow or two of water that you and your brave soldiers will share with them because of your goodness.”

  Gavin said, “You’re entirely welcome.” Then he allowed himself to be taken over to where Natalia sat with Irena.

  “He is here, moya lyovemtsa,” Karshchov said.

  Natalia, aided by Irena, got to her feet. “I am so glad to have this opportunity to speak to you, Lieutenant MacRoss.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Valenko,” Gavin replied.

  In spite of what she’d been through, Natalia was as lovely as ever. Her face was sunburned, and her hair had been brushed back only by Irena’s strong fingers; yet her natural beauty was there to tear at the American army officer’s heart. Even in her tattered and sun-faded dress, her feminine charms were wonderfully displayed.

  “I wish to thank you for your kindness and bravery,” Natalia said. “Basil has told me that if it were not for you, we would still be imprisoned by those horrible men.”

  “Basil is being modest if he hasn’t spoken of his own determination and courage,” Gavin said. “He is most devoted to you, Miss Valenko.”

  “Of course!” Karshchov agreed with a smile. “I am the man who loves her.”

  “Lieutenant, Basil has told me that you and he have decided to be friends,” Natalia said.

  “That is correct,” Gavin replied. “I suppose the sharing of danger and a common goal has made us comrades in arms.”

  “I would like very much to be your friend, too, Lieutenant,” Natalia said. “I hope you will agree to be mine.”

  “I am honored,” Gavin said, feeling sweet misery.

  “I ask an honor of you,” Karshchov said. “When Natalia and I are married, I wish for you to be my—my shafer. He looked at Natalia and asked, “How do you say shafer in English? I have never used that word.”

  Natalia laughed. “Basil is asking you to be his best man at our wedding.”

  Gavin displayed a weak smile, doing his best to put more exuberance in it. “Oh?”

  Karshchov frowned. “Of course, if you do not wish—”

  “I am honored,” Gavin quickly interjected. “Thank you for asking.”

  Karshchov suddenly stepped forward and threw his arms around Gavin and kissed him. Gavin jumped back, violently pushing the Russian away.

  Natalia laughed again. “Unlike in many societies, the men in Russia kiss each other, Lieutenant MacRoss. When you agreed to be his best man, Basil was most overwhelmed with emotion. It was his way of showing how pleased he is to have his good friend honor him at such an important occasion in his life.”

  Karshchov laughed. “It is like shaking the hands, do you understand?”

  Gavin again smiled weakly. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to stick to handshakes.” He bowed to Natalia. “If you’ll excuse me, Miss Valenko, I must return to my duties.”

  “I shall go with him, my darling,” Karshchov said. “My friend Gavin and I are to stand watch together this very night.”

  “Then, we shall all be safe, I am sure of that,” Natalia said.

  Sentry duty didn’t start until after everyone had a few bites and some quick swallows of water. Gavin and Basil went out a ways and took up a position on the defensive perimeter organized by Sergeant Douglas.

  “We must sit down,” Gavin explained. “During the night, one can see better by looking upward into the weak light provided by the sky. It is particularly easy in flat country like this.”

  “You must learn much of such things as a soldier, Gavin,” Karshchov said.

  “Actually, I learned it from an Indian scout,” Gavin said. “Those fellows know the best ways when it comes to hunting and making war out here in the wild country.”

  “They sound a bit like our Cossacks in Russia,” Karshchov said. “They are great outdoorsmen and expert horsemen. Splendid fellows who love to fight.”

  “Exactly like our Indians,” Gavin said.

  They were silent for a while, keeping vigil without speaking as the prairie sank deeper into the night. A bright moon came out, casting shadows off the scrub plants that dotted the area.

  “Gavin,” Karshchov finally said. “I am asking of you another favor.”

  “Yes?” Gavin responded.

  “I am going to save one bullet for Natalia,” he said. “If I die before you, I am asking you to use one of yours.”

  Gavin looked at him, able to see the determination in his Russian friend’s face. “Well, if the situation—”

  “I am not a fool,” Karshchov interrupted. “We are all going to be killed by the bad men tomorrow.”

  “If you really believe that, why did you ask me to be your best man at your wedding?” Gavin inquired of him.

  “That was for Natalia’s sake,” Karshchov said. “Also, I wanted you to know that I would have asked you if there was to be a marriage. It is important that you know that.”

  “I understand,” Gavin said.

  “We are all going to die tomorrow,” Karshchov repeated.

  Gavin was silent for several moments; then he said, “Yes.”

  “Do you promise me?” Karshchov asked.

  “I promise that she will not fall into the hands of the Comancheros if I can help it,” Gavin said.

  “Thank you,” Karshchov replied.

  The two sat in silence for the rest of their relief, keeping a close eye on the distant horizon to make sure no one snuck up on the pathetic little bivouac. When Sergeant Douglas and Corporal Murphy came to relieve them, the two got to their feet and walked slowly back to the area where the others slept.

  Karshchov held out his hand. “We may not have time tomorrow, so I say to you my goodbye, good friend Gavin.”

  Gavin shook his hand. “Goodbye, my friend.”

  The lieutenant watched as Basil Karshchov walked over to where Natalia Valenko slept. He could see the Russian settle down and lie beside the young woman, moving close to her and putting an arm around her sleeping body.

  Gavin, envying him, went back to where his saddle sat on the ground. His blankets were comforting the prisoners, so he settled on the grass and leaned back against the leather implement.

  He took a deep breath and whispered softly, the words inaudible: “Goodbye, Natalia.”

  The lieutenant sat there all through the rest of the night, staring out into the moonlit prairie. Eventually, the sky clouded up, and a murky darkness, as if foretelling what was to be the next day, sank down over the area.

  Dawn was just lighting up the eastern horizon when Sergeant Douglas brought in the second relief and began waking the camp. Within moments everyone stirred and began to prepare to meet the new day.

  Sergeant Douglas reported to his commanding officer. “How’s about we brew up some coffee, sir?” he asked. “There ain’t much, but we can boil enough to put some perk and sass in ever’body’s eyes.”

  Gavin, wanting to push ahead, almost refused. Then he remembered there wasn’t much sense in hurrying along. “Certainly, Sergeant. It will do everyone a world of good.”

  “Fine, sir,” Douglas said. “I’ll get the boys to chip i
n. How about you?”

  “There’s some grounds in my saddlebags,” Gavin said. “Help yourself.”

  Douglas, along with Carlson and O’Hearn, went to work. Within a quarter of an hour they had a pot of coffee steaming over their fire.

  “C’mon folks!” O’Hearn called out. “Let’s start the day right. There’s nothing like a cup o’ hot java. Come and get it!”

  Gavin watched the small crowd eagerly line up for the unexpected refreshment. Then he turned and looked southward over the sea of grass. He felt someone walk up beside him, and he turned and nodded a good morning’s greeting to Basil Karshchov.

  The Russian also looked south. “I wonder how far away they are,” he remarked.

  Gavin shook his head. “They’ll have caught up with us by early afternoon.”

  Seventeen

  The little column of American soldiers and Russian civilians, all very hungry, thirsty, and tired, moved slowly across the great expanse of the Kansas countryside. The combination of boots and hooves scuffling across the dry terrain kicked up small clouds of dust.

  The going was easy in the short grass of the rolling countryside that was flat for the most part with a few gentle dips and rises. The sun, while warm, was not overwhelming. This made for a most pleasant spring day.

  The women and children continued to ride the horses. Private Paddy O’Hearn, still the only mounted dragoon, acted as the group’s eyes and ears as he ranged fifty yards or so to the front, picking the fastest and shortest route back to their destination of Nadezhda.

  Gavin MacRoss didn’t show much leadership initiative. It wasn’t that his spirits had completely sunk that led him to allow Sergeant Ian Douglas to supervise the pathetically slow trek. The lieutenant’s mind raced as numerous, useless and dangerous schemes flashed and died away in his thoughts. Desperation drove his concepts of escape, defense, or a combination of both. Any sort of idea he got dwindled away into bitter disappointment as countless reasons why it wouldn’t work became apparent when more thought was put to it.

  At midday Gavin took his horse and swung up into the saddle to make a ride southward to see if he could spot the advance elements of the Comanchero band. A half-hour’s gallop showed nothing but emptiness. Now worried that a flanking movement by the outlaws would cut him off from his troops, the lieutenant swung the animal around to the north and rode back to rejoin the group.

  As he closed in on them, he could easily see Paddy O’Hearn a few hundred yards away. The dragoon rode in a military manner, sitting tall in the saddle as he alertly surveyed the area toward which he led the column.

  Suddenly the soldier and his horse dropped completely out of sight.

  Gavin stood in his stirrups to see what had happened. To his relief a few moments later, the animal reappeared as if he were rising out of the ground. Then O’Hearn did the same, dusting off his pants while trotting over to grab the horse’s reins prior to remounting.

  Curious, Gavin kicked his mount into a gallop. Everyone looked up in alarm as he sped past, so he waved and smiled to let them know everything was all right. As he neared O’Hearn, the dragoon hollered.

  “Hold it, sir! Don’t come no closer!”

  Gavin reined in, coming to a sudden halt. “What happened, Private O’Hearn? You dropped out of sight like something had reached up and grabbed you.”

  “There’s a hidden gully there, sir,” O’Hearn explained. “I rode straight into it. The thing is prob’ly a dried-up ol’ creek bed. The buffalo grass is so thick that you can’t see it.”

  The dragoon rode forward a few feet, then dismounted. He led his horse down into the deep gash and up the other side. “It’s easy to see from over there.” Now Gavin stepped down from the saddle. He took his horse’s reins and led the animal through the thick, tall grass and down into the incline, then up the other side. He surveyed the terrain feature for several long moments. Suddenly he became excited and agitated.

  “O’Hearn! Go fetch the others. Tell Sergeant Douglas to hurry everybody over here,” he ordered. “And I mean now!”

  “Do you want me to get out my bugle and sound Assembly?” O’Hearn asked. He always liked to show off his trumpeting skills when he got the chance.

  “No. It would make too much noise,” Gavin said. “You’ll have to ride over there. Be careful coming back so that nobody tumbles down into that cut in the ground.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Gavin waited impatiently until the group finally arrived. It took several more minutes for them all—six dragoons and twenty-seven civilians—to descend, then climb up and out of the ancient creek bed.

  “We’re staying here and waiting for the Comancheros to show up,” Gavin told Douglas.

  The sergeant frowned and looked around. “There ain’t no cover here, sir. Don’t you think we ought to get down in that gully?”

  “No, I don’t, and never mind about cover. That’s the least we have to take into consideration now,” Gavin said irritably. “How is our ammunition supply?”

  “We got plenty, sir,” Douglas said. “In all the time we been out, we ain’t done no serious shooting except after them deserters.”

  “That’s fine. Now set up a defensive line right here, facing directly south,” Gavin ordered. “I’d say we’re about ten yards away from that creek bed, wouldn’t you?”

  “I reckon so,” Douglas mused. “We could cut some of this grass and set it up to hide behind if we ain’t gonna get down in the thing.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the kind,” Gavin said. “I want the dragoons standing—not kneeling—standing in one rank here with the men directly behind.”

  “Also standing?” Douglas asked.

  “Yes,” Gavin replied.

  “They’ll be easy to spot in this flat country,” Douglas said in an argumentative tone.

  “I realize that,” Gavin said. “The women and children may position themselves a few yards to the rear. In their case, I prefer that all of them either sit or lie down.”

  “Are you sure about all this, sir?” Douglas asked.

  “Do as you are ordered, Sergeant,” Gavin said in a terse voice. “There is no time for idle talk at this point. Those Comancheros will be catching up with us at any time.”

  Douglas clicked his heels together and saluted. Then he set about to put Gavin’s instructions into effect. The women and children were taken back twenty-five yards and put with the hobbled horses. The dragoons moved forward with carbines while the Russian men positioned themselves directly behind the soldiers.

  Karshchov, sporting the army carbine, occupied a space in the center of the line of troopers. He nudged Corporal Murphy. “What is going on?”

  “Beats hell outta me, Mr. Karshchov,” Murphy said. “I’m just gonna do what I’m told.”

  Sergeant Douglas, standing nearby, said, “I wouldn’t bother the lieutenant with any questions, Mr. Karshchov. He’s real testy right now.”

  Karshchov nodded. “I shall heed your kind advice, Sergeant Douglas.”

  Suddenly Gavin became very soldierly. “Detachment!” he called out. “Atten-hut!”

  The soldiers quickly snapped into the position of attention.

  “Load!”

  The paper cartridges were inserted into the breeches and the blocks pushed down into proper position.

  “Cock your weapons!”

  Hammers were drawn back by the well-drilled dragoons.

  “Target is the open country to the south!” Gavin hollered. “Fire!”

  The well-trained soldiers did not hesitate to obey the strange order as seven carbines barked, sending thick clouds of smoke bellowing outward.

  Douglas walked up to the lieutenant. “Sir, that’s gonna attract them Comancheros right here where we are. They might be wandering off far enough to give us some more time.”

  “That is exactly what I do not want at this point,” Gavin said, smiling. “If O’Hearn’s carbine wasn’t more important than his bugle right now, I’d have him sounding
every call known to the United States Army.”

  “You mean you want ’em to know exactly where we are?” Douglas asked incredulously.

  “Not only that,” Gavin said. “I want them to find us as quickly as they can.”

  “Sir—”

  “Have the men reload, Sergeant,” Gavin said. “Thank you very much.” He walked away toward the side of the group, pulling his field glasses to study the far horizon to the south.

  There was no sign of movement for nearly twenty minutes; then Gavin spotted three riders on the skyline.

  “Detachment, atten-hut!” he called out. “Target to the south! Fire!”

  Once more a volley of shots streaked outward, whipping harmlessly through the clear air of the prairie country. But the trio of riders, far out of range, heard the noise. They immediately turned around and disappeared into the heat haze.

  “Have the men reload, Sergeant,” Gavin ordered as he kept his southerly watch through the field glasses.

  In less than a quarter of an hour, distant shadows showed up in a single line across the southern expanse. Gavin counted over twenty riders.

  “Enemy front!” he hollered. “Stand fast! No one will fire except on my command!”

  The horsemen out on the prairie moved slowly closer, becoming easier to see as they approached. The Comancheros seemed to be studying the situation, acting in a cautious manner as they closed the gap between themselves and the thin line of dragoons.

  “Cock your pieces!” Gavin hollered.

  Douglas left the group to stand next to the lieutenant. “They’re quite a ways out there, sir,” he said tactfully.

  “Aim!” Gavin ordered.

  Douglas nervously licked his lips, looking out at the attackers still moving at a deliberate pace. “We can’t hit shit until they’re in closer, sir.”

  Gavin took a deep breath, then bellowed, “Fire!” Once more smoke and flame bellowed out from the carbines as the bullets whipped harmlessly through the air to fall short before reaching the Comancheros.

  “Goddamn it, sir!” Douglas hissed angrily. “Now those son of a bitches know we ain’t got time to reload. They’re gonna come roaring in here like a damn forest fire in August.”