by Nathan Jones
“Because of the wound, or the bandits?” her dad shot back.
That seemed to be Skyler's cue. He dismounted as well, making his way over to the two men. “That depends on whether we can get any help fighting them off.”
The homesteader's lip curled up contemptuously. “Hendrickson send you to hire more mercenaries?”
Skyler might've had enough silver to pay for that, if that was an option. But from their expressions he had a feeling they'd just take it as an insult. “Banding together to fight off a threat is something communities do.”
Mr. Lopez barked a derisive laugh. “Yeah, ranchers are always rushing to our aid.”
Was the tension between the Hendricksons and the Ruiz family really that bad? He couldn't imagine his friends doing anything to cause it, although from what he'd already heard from the homesteaders more than a bit of it seemed to be resentment about the success of the ranch. Still, would they really sit around and watch good people get horribly murdered out of spite?
“Listen, even if you're not on the best terms with the ranchers, you yourself admitted they've been good neighbors. I think you'd agree a bandit camp wouldn't be.”
Mr. Ruiz scowled, obviously not wanting to be convinced. “Bandits, so you say. They've done nothing to us so far.”
“Aside from hassling Adalia in town?” Skyler shot back. The homesteader looked away, scowl deepening, and didn't respond. “It's only a matter of time until they do come after you, if they manage to drive the Hendricksons off or worse,” he continued. “You're not that far from them, and it could even be once we start protecting our cattle more fiercely the bandits will leave us be and start coming after other nearby residents of Lone Valley.”
The older man snorted in derision. “Not to disparage my own homestead, but we don't exactly have any cattle, tools, or wealth worth taking. The ranchers might have to worry about bandits, but that's a hazard of the prosperity they're so happy to lord over their less fortunate neighbors. Folks scrabbling in the dirt like us are beneath the notice of thieves.”
“You think they won't come tear this place apart just to make sure for themselves that you've got nothing?” Skyler said, struggling to keep his frustration in check. He paused, seeing he still wasn't getting through to the man, then shot a significant look Adalia's way as he threw in the clincher. “Besides, from what I've overheard them saying it's not just cows and gold they're interested in.”
He felt like a jerk for saying it, for putting that sort of fear in them. But it was the simple truth; the bandits had already threatened the young woman. Which was probably why she didn't refute his statement, even though she did shoot a heated glare his way, obviously not pleased at being a point in his argument.
Mr. Ruiz was even less pleased, expression darkening as if Skyler had personally threatened his daughter. “You think we don't know how to keep our womenfolk hidden and safe from those who'd try to hurt them?” he snapped. “We were being crushed beneath Sangue's boot before you even knew they existed.”
“You want to go right back to that here in your new home?” Skyler asked.
Mr. Lopez laughed at that. “You think a dozen bandits are going to enslave the whole valley in the time before the next League patrol swings by?”
He turned to the man and replied quietly. “No, but there's plenty of harm they can cause if they're not stopped. One of your neighbors is already on death's door because of them, and more might join him soon.” He turned back to Mr. Ruiz. “Which is why good folks need to band together against the threat . . . otherwise they come after us one at a time until there's no one left to fight.”
The homesteader looked away, deflating. “We left Mexico to escape the violence, Mr. Graham. I'm not old in the grand scheme of things, but I'm no fighter, and I've only got a wife and daughter who aren't fighters either, and sons who're too young.”
Adalia scowled and opened her mouth, obviously wanting to protest that she could take care of herself. Then she glanced at Skyler, seeming to remember that even if she was willing to fight for her loved ones, she didn't want her family to have any part of this particular fight.
As for Skyler, he was tempted to mention that he'd killed his first man when he was 9, although admittedly just a few weeks shy of his 10th birthday. But that really didn't have anything to do with anything. “What about the other families?” he tried, turning back to Mr. Lopez. “Your son's already willing to fight. You could fight beside him.”
The man shook his head. “You haven't convinced my brother, you haven't convinced me.”
Skyler grit his teeth. “I was a complete stranger and I was willing to stick my neck out for your daughter,” he told Mr. Ruiz. “You won't even consider doing the same to help not just your neighbors but yourselves?”
He didn't like twisting the man's arm like that, and it wasn't that he wanted to be rewarded for doing the right thing stepping in to help Adalia, but . . . blast it, he needed help!
“It would be safe to say you're still pretty much a stranger, Graham,” the homesteader said quietly. “We don't really know each other either, and you'd ask us to go to war against strangers, on behalf of barely tolerable neighbors, with no provocation?”
Skyler bit back a curse and looked away. “Well, at least think it over.” With a heavy heart he turned back to Junior. As he mounted up he turned to look at the two men, and the others who'd gathered around to listen in, one last time. “I hope you'll at least look to your own land while Randall and his people are lurking about. And if they do come after you let me know . . . I'll help if I can.”
From the homesteaders' expressions, it was obvious they thought Skyler was just saying that to try to manipulate or guilt them, but he meant every word. He met Mr. Ruiz's eyes, trying to convey that.
Then, defeated, he collected Buster's reins from Adalia, turned Junior to the north, and started back for the ranch.
✽✽✽
Randall didn't attack that morning.
Skyler had weighed the pros and cons of going out to keep watch on the bandits hidden in their gully, so he could give warning when they made a move. But there were a lot of reasons why he'd chosen to remain at the ranch patrolling instead.
For one thing, the Hendricksons' home was surrounded by grassland for hundreds of yards in just about every direction, so it wasn't as if they'd have a problem with advance warning. For another, even with all his skill sneaking around there was only so much he could do in this terrain in daytime against a vigilant enemy. And lastly, scouting would be useless anyway if the bandits split up and he could only follow one group.
In the end, it would just be unnecessary effort and risk for the same result as if he stayed put. Not to mention by staying at the ranch he could make sure his friends were all ready for a fight when it came, something he couldn't guarantee if he went out to spy on the bandits.
Rationally he knew all that, but that didn't keep him from stewing as the hours passed by, with no idea where Randall was or what he was planning.
Although if he was going to second-guess himself, he should've sent Bob to take Lobo back to town and spent the entire night at the gully listening in on the bandits so he knew exactly what they intended. Which probably would've been pointless, since they'd have just spent the night sleeping and he would've been wasting his time.
Skyler hated being on the defensive. You had to stay vigilant 24/7 in case of trouble, running yourself ragged whether an attack came or not. Meanwhile if you were the one doing the attacking, you could lounge around at your leisure until it was time to go, then however the attack went head back to base and get back to lounging until it was time to go again.
Which was why if the enemy had to be dealt with and a fight was inevitable, he avoided being on the defensive if he could. In a lot of fights the first blow was also the last blow, and in the rest it sure went a long way towards determining the victor.
Hard to shoot the other guy when you were bleeding out from a bullet wound of your own.
In any case, noon rolled around with no sign of the bandits poking their noses up. Skyler even began patrolling farther out around the ranch, hitting the highest hills to get a longer view and hopefully a better idea of what was going on. He saw the homesteaders at work in their fields to the south, a couple of the teenagers keeping watch in case of trouble. It was too far away to pick out Adalia from the group, but no doubt she was there.
Hopefully when the shooting started at the ranch, if Randall finally came, she and her family would be able to get inside their homes and hunker down. Since they'd decided not to join the fight, he hoped they wouldn't get dragged into it.
Farther north other ranches were quiet, the ranchers having taken Bob's warning and either fled or gone to ground. Hopefully they'd be spared trouble too, or have time to send someone around for aid so Skyler could help them.
But aside from the nearby properties and the people visible on them, there was no sign of anyone on the grasslands. Randall and his gang were nowhere to be seen.
That should've reassured Skyler, but instead it had the opposite effect. Experience had taught him that unseen trouble was the worst sort, and he wasn't about to start hoping the bandits had packed up and left after all.
He was out on a hill north of the ranch when he spotted Lisa walking his way, her rifle on her back and a basket in one hand. Lunch, he guessed, feeling a bit bad he'd pulled her away from her fiancé’s sickbed just to bring him food.
“How is he?” he asked quietly as she reached him.
His friend gave him a wan smile, drained but hopeful. “Sleeping peacefully. No sign of infection.”
That seemed like practically a miracle, although it was a relief to hear. “Good. Well on his way to recovery then.”
“I believe so.” Lisa said it with such conviction that he could almost believe it, too, in spite of the grim reality of the man's dire circumstances.
A tired, slightly uncomfortable silence settled as she pulled food out of the basket to share out. Skyler gratefully accepted the sandwich she offered him, which turned out to be made with real hamburger and even had ketchup and mustard. Nicest meal he'd had in a good long while; beef had been a rare luxury ever since leaving home.
They settled down on the grassy hilltop in spots where they could still get a good view of the surrounding area, eating quietly as they kept watch. It reminded him a lot of lunches together while watching the livestock in Trapper's valley, except different.
Not much the same at all, really.
“No sign of trouble yet,” his friend said quietly. Her shoulders were slumped in exhaustion, and even the bites she nibbled off her hamburger lacked any energy or enthusiasm.
“None yet,” he agreed.
She sighed. “Any chance they left and aren't coming back?”
“That would sure be nice.” Skyler shook his head wearily. “It's too bad we're not back in Utah. Trapper could field a small army from New Emery if there was a worthy need, and he's still got a bunch of his guns. Even one each of the RPGs and .50 cal machine guns we took from Sangue.”
“Each?” Lisa gave him a disbelieving look. “You took big machine guns and grenade launchers from the bloodies?”
“And a whole ton of supplies to keep us alive during the Mountain War. They sent a bunch of men on horseback at us after that, but after we got away from them Trapper went back and blew them up.”
His friend turned to face him fully, dark eyes narrowed. “You're totally BSing me.”
He held up his hand. “I swear.”
She snorted. “And let me guess, after that they sent a whole bunch of tanks but Trapper managed to tie all their treads together so they drove around in circles and blew each other up.”
Skyler tried not to scowl. “Hey, ask anyone back in New Emery, they'll tell you I'm telling the truth. You'd know that if-” he cut off, flushing.
Lisa's smirk faded. “If we'd come back after the war,” she finished quietly. “You must wonder why we never did, even for a visit.”
Actually, he was really wondering why she never came back, but he wasn't about to admit it. “Sangue's been gone for years.”
“Aside from the ones that deserted and stuck around to keep causing trouble,” his friend pointed out. “Not to mention the resurgence of banditry, and the distance and danger.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I don't know, Sky. We talked about it a lot after Sangue retreated back to Texas and New Mexico, then across the border entirely. But there were always too many things to do here, and it never seemed like there was a chance to get away to make such a big trip. And then we got settled down here and just didn't really want to leave.”
“But didn't you at least want to know how we were all doing?” Skyler asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. “Let us know you were doing okay? We've worried about you all this time.”
His friend hesitated, looking away. “Things looked so grim when you left, and I suppose we all felt a bit guilty about leaving. None of us wanted to go searching for news that might be bad, especially when we were so busy building our new lives.”
What about our feelings for each other? He couldn't bring himself to ask. If she'd really felt for him what he felt for her, wouldn't she have tried to find a way to contact him, let him know she was still alive and he should come find her?
Then again he'd waited three years to go looking for her, so what was his excuse?
An uncomfortable silence settled, and they both turned their focus back out to the grasslands. “I missed you,” Skyler finally blurted, then cursed himself for putting his foot in his mouth with a comment like that. Way too easy for her to interpret it the wrong way, assuming he hadn't actually meant it that way to begin with.
And sure enough, misinterpret it was exactly what Lisa did. She swore softly and deliberately turned away. “Seriously, Sky?”
“Not like that!” he said hastily, although his protests sounded feeble even to him. “You were my best friend, that's all. Are my best friend.”
Her expression softened slightly, and she turned to look back at him. “Are,” she agreed. “And always will be.”
The mood became more comfortable as they got back to eating, looking out across the ranch and the surrounding grasslands. “Sure is a beautiful place,” Skyler finally said, breaking the silence. Tabby really would love it here.
“It is,” Lisa agreed. “Home.” The silence dragged on for a bit, and then to his surprise she began to sing in an unexpectedly husky voice, drawling the words. “Lone Valleeeey, green valleeey . . .”
She trailed off, and after a couple seconds he cleared his throat. “This place has a song?”
His friend gave him a crooked smile. “Four words of it, at least. Just something I made up while watching the cows.”
“You've got a good voice.” Skyler paused a beat, then continued in the same teasing tone he'd used to use with her years ago. “Good range . . . I'm not sure I could sing that low.”
She made a mock outraged noise and slapped his shoulder, although she was smiling mischievously. “You know, I can actually believe that. As I recall, back when we used to sing while watching the livestock in Trapper's valley, I would tease you about how I couldn't sing that high.”
He felt his cheeks heat. “Hey come on, I was singing falsetto to be funny! I've got a great baritone now.”
Lisa just laughed, and after a moment he joined her. Then they sat for a while more staring out at the rolling grasslands, the closest he'd felt to content for a long time. Even considering how he'd lost the woman he loved again before he even found her, even as painful as it was to think of the life they'd never have together, it was still nice to be with her like this again. Just like so many times growing up.
She seemed to feel the same, because after a while she cleared her throat, voice sounding thick. “I missed you too, Sky. Even if circumstances aren't ideal, I'm glad for the chance to see you again.”
There was something a bit final about those w
ords. Especially when his friend wasted no time standing to gather up the remains of their lunch and pack them back in the basket. Then she bid him a quiet goodbye, not meeting his eyes, and turned and hurried away.
Back to Jared.
Chapter Twelve
Nothing
The sun crawled across the horizon, marking one uneventful hour after another.
Eventually Uncle Bob and Lisa, who'd taken the opportunity to catch a few hours of sleep earlier, insisted Skyler and Fernando head inside and get some rest themselves. Skyler's protests were hampered by the fact that he was barely coherent enough to string two syllables together, so he told them to call him immediately if there was trouble and followed Adalia's cousin into the ranch house.
Aunt Vicky bustled to get them settled on guest beds, more comfortable than anything Skyler had felt since home. Once they'd assured her they had everything they needed, she hurried back to Jared's room and resumed her vigil at his bedside in her daughter's absence.
Skyler would've liked to say that he slept like a rock and woke up refreshed, ready to stand guard the rest of the afternoon and the night, but that would've been an exaggeration. In spite of the luxurious bed and his overwhelming exhaustion he ended up constantly starting awake in a panic, dreaming he'd heard the noise of gunfire and thinking the ranch was under attack.
Even after he reassured himself that everything was fine, sleep was slow in coming again. And even in the lightest doze the phantom gunshots plagued him, leaving him twitchy and somewhat sick to his stomach.
He finally gave up after a couple of hours and checked in on Vicky, relieved to see that Jared was still fighting for life. Then he headed outside to find Bob on his patrol.
“No sign of trouble yet,” his friend said to his unspoken question.
Troubled, Skyler glanced at the sun sinking steadily towards the horizon. “I expected them a lot sooner than this.” Was it possible they really had cut their losses and moved on?
