by Nathan Jones
“Calls himself Lobo. Like I said, he's part of a gang of bandits lurking around the Hendrickson ranch. They stole a goat yesterday, and around midnight attacked the ranch in a shootout that left one of them dead and Jared Westman mortally wounded. I went after them and killed another, chased them off to a different hideout, and captured this one.”
Hancock blinked. “You went after them? Alone? Mrs. Hendrickson made it sound like there were thirteen of the SOBs.”
“There were,” Skyler agreed.
The trader swore, looking torn between disbelief and admiration. “Just went out and single-handedly took on a gang of bandits as a matter of course, did you? In that case, looks like you're the closest thing Lone Valley has to a sheriff.”
He flushed. “Just doing what was needed to protect my friends.”
“If you say so,” Hancock said, shrugging. “Anyway, your little rumble up north is more excitement than this valley's seen since the bloodies were still lurking around.” He scratched at the back of his head. “Guess you could just hang this fellow. Nobody's going to blink at executing a bandit, especially if he's already shed blood.”
Lobo began yelling through his gag in alarm, thrashing on Buster's back enough to make the gelding snort and sidestep nervously. Couldn't be pleasant to be in the guy's shoes when everyone around him kept talking nooses. Not that he didn't have it coming.
Skyler shook his head reluctantly. Inconvenient as it was, he had to agree with Uncle Bob: killing enemies during a fight to protect himself or his loved ones was one thing, this was something entirely different. “That's a bit iffy without a trial, or at least a sheriff holding the rope.”
“I doubt anyone hereabouts would complain if you did what needed doing,” Hancock said. Skyler just shook his head again, and the man gave him a thoughtful look then sighed in weary defeat. “I suppose you could stow him in my storeroom until a patrol comes round. I keep it secure against thieving, a good lock on a thick door and solid walls. You'd have to take care of feeding him and any other care he needs, and if his buddies come around and you're not here to chase them off then I'd probably have to just hand him over to them.”
“I guess we'd want to keep them from finding out he's here then, eh?” Skyler got to work unloading the wounded bandit, ignoring the man's grunts of discomfort through the gag as his leg was jostled. “Thanks for the help, Hancock.”
“Just doing my civic duty.” The man paused a significant beat. “Also I'll want an ounce of silver at the end of it, for the rent.”
That was a bit pricey, even with the value of precious metals in the toilet. Especially if Skyler was providing food and care. Still, he wasn't exactly in a position to argue.
Lobo stubbornly refused to help them take him to his imprisonment, so they ended up hauling him like a particularly limp sack of flour. As they worked Skyler decided to pump Hancock for information. “Any idea how much progress Mrs. Hendrickson has made rounding up a posse?”
The man grimaced. “Somewhere between less and none, I'm afraid. Not for lack of trying, though . . . she even visited the Cattle Prod in her search, although that's no fit place for a decent lady like her.”
Skyler pushed down a surge of frustration at the community's unwillingness to do anything; he and his friends needed help more than ever after tonight, and Uncle Bob especially had been hopeful Aunt Vicky would be able to find some. “The bandits are still in the valley, needing to be dealt with. You game? Anyone else I could ask?”
Hancock shifted uncomfortably. “Ah. That might be a touch hard. We're not much for posses around here. I guess you could pay some mercenary types and hope they don't decide to join in with the bandits in robbing you.”
“This gang is threatening your town!” Skyler snapped. “Your neighbors! I'm a complete stranger who just rode into Lone Valley and I'm willing to help out.”
The trader sighed. “You're young, lad. And like you said, obviously the sort to come to the aid of those in need. The thing is, folks only have so much caring in them. The older you get, the more life grinds that caring out of you, until soon enough you've only got enough to spare for yourself and your loved ones. And that happens a heck of a lot faster in the world after the Ultimatum, especially since Sangue's invasion.”
“That sounds like a pretty BS excuse.” Skyler jerked his head at Lobo. “He was part of a band of thirteen. No single person can fight off a group that large. If you're all focused on looking out for you and yours, they'll just pick you all off one at a time until they rule Lone Valley.”
Hancock scowled. “That's how folks are, in case you haven't figured that out by now,” he snapped. “They won't see the danger until a few of their neighbors have already been fed to the wolves.”
“Well their neighbors happen to be my friends, close as family!” Skyler nearly shouted. “I'm only here taking on this problem because of them.”
The trader sighed again. “I'll ask around, see if people want to gather up to sort this problem out. But I can warn you right now, most will probably opt to wait for our friends up north to handle it.”
Skyler thought a bit bitterly of Rich Bradshaw and his cronies bullying three-year-old Bryant, back when Trapper had invited the fleeing Emery residents to the refuge of the summer retreat. Surrounded by a crowd of friends and neighbors looking on, and not a single person had so much as protested the outrageous act. Even after Trapper had stepped in to protect Skyler and Bryant, more people had seemed outraged by the mountain man pulling a gun on Bradshaw than on Bradshaw shoving the little boy to the ground or roughing up Skyler.
That had shown him a less than admirable side of human nature, a lesson he hadn't forgotten in the years since. So he supposed he wasn't surprised that the people here weren't willing to stand up to defend their own valley unless it was their lives personally on the line, even if it meant leaving it to a stranger to risk his neck for them.
Although, as was so often the case, he was disappointed.
“Well if you find any, let them know we'll be fighting for our lives at the Hendrickson ranch,” he said, keeping his tone dry.
Hancock gave him a pained look. “Give them my best, especially Mr. Westman and young Miss Hendrickson. Hope he pulls through.” He nodded down at the bandit they were carrying. “Don't worry about this one in the meantime.”
They got Lobo into the trader's storeroom, securely binding him to a heavy crate, and Skyler checked the man's wound one last time. Adalia's work seemed to be holding up, so he left the bandit with the lantern for light, then headed out into the store with Hancock.
The man gave an exaggerated stretch in the darkness. “Well, bed's calling. Let me see you out.”
“Before I go,” Skyler said, “can you point me to where I can find Mrs. Hendrickson? She was staying with Jeb Longley, right?”
“Last I heard.” Hancock quickly gave him directions to a small shack at the southern edge of town, where the newcomers to Lone Valley had gathered to live in tents and hovels until they could build proper homes. “I'm sure you can handle yourself, but be warned that that area can get a bit dangerous after dark.”
“Obliged,” Skyler replied as he untethered the horses. “For everything. I'll make sure Lobo's cared for, one way or another. And I get that you can't stick your neck out if trouble comes calling because of him. Appreciate you taking on even this much risk.”
“It's the least I can do,” the man said wryly, as if well aware how close that was to the truth. When he spoke next his voice had a yawn in it. “Good night, Graham.”
The door to Hancock's Mercantile shut firmly, leaving Skyler in the night. With a sigh he hauled himself into Junior's saddle; he'd been more tired than this many times in his life, but at the moment it was hard to remember when. And he'd even had a nap before it all started!
Maybe it was the fact that he knew the trouble was just starting, and as the only real fighter at the ranch most of the burden of protecting his friends was on his shoulders. There was no
telling when he'd get the chance to get a good night's sleep again, which just compounded his current exhaustion.
He'd pull through it, as always. What choice did he have?
“Come on, boy,” he told Junior quietly. “Let's see if we can find our way to Jeb's place in the dead of night.”
The rising waning crescent moon didn't offer much in the way of light, but the streets were wide enough even in the shanty town area of Lone Valley that Skyler wasn't worried about blundering into anything, or missing any of the directions Hancock had told him. And in spite of the warning the man had given about this being a dangerous area, it must've been late enough that even the worst scoundrels were all in bed.
That, or they weren't interested in picking a fight with anyone crazy enough to bring two good horses through a rough part of town without the slightest hesitation.
Either way, he didn't spot any signs of trouble as he picked his way through the tents and shanties to the small but sturdy shack Hancock had described to him. It was dark, same as all the other dwellings nearby, and he hoped he hadn't been led to the wrong place as he dismounted and knocked on the door.
It took a while, but finally a dim light flickered on from inside, along with Jeb's grumbled call that he was coming. A moment later the door opened a crack as he peered out. “Who's there?”
“Skyler Graham. I need to talk to Au-to Mrs. Hendrickson.”
There was a grunt of surprise from Jeb as he was elbowed aside and the door thrown open wide, Aunt Vicky's petite form silhouetted in the frame. She was wearing a nightgown, long dark hair tussled from sleep, but she showed no sign of grogginess as she grabbed Skyler's arm and dragged him into the tiny home.
“What's happened?” she demanded.
There was barely standing room in the humble but tidy interior, most of the space partitioned off with two sheets to make sleeping nooks. Which by the looks of things had been hastily pinned up for unexpected guests. Jeb and a tall skinny woman about his age, who Skyler assumed was his wife Tess, stood by one hanging sheet. In a nest of a bed in one corner, near the other partitioned off sleeping area, he spotted two pairs of dark eyes: Bryant and Connor, peeking out at him from beneath blankets.
“Sorry to disturb you so late-” he began.
Vicky impatiently cut him off. “But you wouldn't have if it wasn't an emergency.” Her grip on his arm tightened. “What's happened? Is everyone all right?” Skyler wished he could reassure her, but his sickly expression at that question was enough to make her face pale in horror. “Tell me, please!” she begged.
He quickly described what had happened since she left, aware of the two boys listening in on the conversation and trying not to say anything that might alarm them. Or their mother or the Longleys, for that matter.
That was only so doable, though. The boys' eyes got bigger and bigger as he spoke, Jeb's face got grimmer and grimmer, and Tess kept her hands pressed to her mouth the entire time. As for Vicky, she looked like she was going to throw up when he announced Jared had been shot, and didn't seem to hear much after that.
Once he finished, the petite woman shook herself out of her horrified stupor and turned to her friends. “I hate to trouble you even more than I already have, Tess,” she said quietly, “but could I ask you to care for the boys for a day or two?”
“Now hold on!” Skyler cut in before the other woman could respond. “I hope you're not suggesting what I think you are.”
“That I'm going back with you to help out?” Vicky said, tone still quiet but with a definite core of firmness. “What did you think I'd do when you told me all this?” Without waiting for a response she turned back to the older couple. “Will you watch them?”
“Of course,” Tess assured her, although her tone was doubtful; it was obvious she had her own misgivings about her friend going into danger. “They'll be safe here with us, I promise.”
“What about the posse Uncle Bob wanted you to raise?” he protested. “And I told Hancock someone would be around to feed and tend the prisoner until the League can deal with him.”
“If you could see to that as well, Tess,” Vicky added, undeterred. “We'll compensate you for time and food.” She turned to start for her sleeping area, and in the corner her sons both hastily burrowed beneath their blankets and went still, pretending to be asleep.
Skyler got in front of her before she could take a step, tone quiet but firm. “Aunt Vicky, think about why Uncle Bob sent you into town in the first place. He wanted you out of danger, and he wasn't wrong. These bandits have already made it very clear they're the scum of the earth, willing and eager to ra-”
He choked on the word, unable to say it. Not just because of the kids listening in but because of who he was talking to. He couldn't say anything that might take his friend's thoughts back to everything she'd suffered. But at the same time, she had to know what they were dealing with. “Well, let's just say they're more like Sangue than anyone should be,” he said instead.
The tiny woman's face paled further at that, but in spite of her obvious fear she straightened her shoulders determinedly and her eyes flashed, expression brooking no argument. “I appreciate your concern, Sky, but this is my family and my ranch. I belong there, if for no other reason than that my daughter's fiance is on death's door and she needs me. So go get the horses ready to go, and don't you dare leave without me!”
Without another word she disappeared behind the sheet the Longleys had set up for her, and he heard the frantic rustle of cloth as she began dressing.
Skyler glanced at Jeb and his wife. “We'll take care of this bandit prisoner of yours while you're busy up north,” the part time ranch hand assured him.
He felt his shoulders sag, defeated. He wanted to refuse to take Aunt Vicky into danger, but what right did he have to keep her from fighting for her family, the way any good person would? If nothing else she could care for Jared so Lisa could take a sentry position.
Uncle Bob would still kill him for bringing her back, though.
With a sigh he headed outside and made sure Buster's saddle was clean of blood and other filth from the bandit the gelding had been carrying. Less than a minute later the door opened behind him and Vicky strode outside, dressed in work clothes and riding boots and carrying a satchel. Slung on her back was a small caliber varmint gun, which she carried as if familiar with its weight.
Skyler offered her a hand up onto Buster's back, which she graciously accepted as she pulled herself into the saddle. She sat as if born on a horse, sure and confident, and when she spoke her voice was surprisingly calm. “Thank you for your help Jeb, Tess. You've been good friends to us ever since you arrived in the valley.”
“Of course,” the other woman said, her own voice thick with concern for her friend. “Don't worry about Bryant and Connor, we'll take good care of them.”
“Tell them I love them, and I'll be back as soon as I can. I'm sure they're awake to hear it, but tell them all the same.” Vicky turned to Skyler. “Let's go.”
He nodded and pulled himself into Junior's saddle, turning the stallion north in the darkness. Behind him Buster's hooves clattered as the gelding followed.
Had to admit, however he might fear for his friend's safety, it was impossible not to be impressed by her courage. He had the benefit of a decade of training from the best hunter and tracker he'd ever seen, and years of experience fighting against skilled and dangerous enemies. He could afford to go into a situation like this confident of himself, even if he was afraid of dying.
But Aunt Vicky wasn't a fighter by any stretch. She was one of the kindest and most gentle people he knew, and rarely even showed a temper. Not to mention fragile, after the nightmare in Newpost. And yet in spite of that she was willing to ride into a fight facing long odds with her back straight, against men she'd been clearly warned would do terrible things to her if they caught her, for the sake of her loved ones.
Courage didn't begin to describe it.
But being brave and determin
ed were no replacement for being prepared with the skills and mindset to handle situations like this. Skyler just wished she could've benefited more from Trapper's training when she had the chance. Uncle Bob and Lisa too, ideally.
He hoped he wasn't making a mistake helping his friends fight when they might be better off fleeing. Anything they might have to leave behind could be replaced, but not their lives.
Then again, in Jared's state trying to move him would kill him, so at this point fleeing was no longer really an option. That just left standing against Randall's gang and hoping they were up to the task.
Unless by some miracle the bandits lost heart and just left. He wasn't holding his breath though.
✽✽✽
True to Skyler's prediction, Uncle Bob was furious with him when he and Aunt Vicky rode into the ranch yard after signaling their approach.
“Are you out of your mind?” the rancher demanded as he stood by his wife's stirrup, as if to help her dismount from the tall gelding. But from his posture it looked more like he intended to turn her right around and send her back towards Lone Valley.
Although he didn't do so, probably mostly because he was reluctant to send her off alone in the night, and with dawn only an hour or so away he couldn't afford to send Skyler with her when he'd be needed to defend the ranch.
Which didn't do anything for his mood as he continued to rant. “If I'd known you'd use your trip into town as an excuse to drag my wife into danger, I'd have gone myself. What were you thinking?”
“He was thinking I wasn't about to give him a choice when my family needed me,” Vicky said firmly. “Even if you'd come yourself, you'd have had to tie me hand and foot to keep me away.” She slid easily out of the saddle on the other side of the horse from her husband, voice turning brisk. “Now, I'm going to go in and help my daughter save the man she loves. You've got your own things to worry about, so I'll leave you to it.”
In spite of the situation, Skyler still felt a pang at hearing someone else described as the man Lisa loved. Knowing that even if she might think of him as her oldest and dearest friend, she'd never feel that way about him.
