He was driving his horse faster than he had been and something occurred to Helen.
“What’s your horse’s name?” she asked.
“He doesn’t have a name.” Zeke answered brusquely. Helen thought this a bit odd.
“No name?”
“That’s right.” Helen considered this in silence for a few minutes until she could no longer bear it.
“Why doesn’t he have a name?” she finally asked. Zeke did not bother to answer immediately and growing impatient, Helen repeated herself, “Why doesn’t your horse have a name?”
“Because,” answered Zeke curtly, “he ain’t gonna come when you call him. He ain’t a dog. What’s the point of giving him a name he’ll just ignore?”
“That seems very utilitarian.”
“What’s that mean?” Helen thought about it.
“It means devoid of romanticism.”
“Who said I’m romantic?”
“That’s not at all what it means.”
“In fact,” Zeke was getting angrier, “I don’t think it’s very romantic for a married woman to be sleeping with a stranger.” The coldness that Helen had been sensing in Zeke all morning now came out into the light. She was somewhat stunned by the hint of acrimony in his voice. Naturally, she felt defensive.
“That’s different.” she said.
“How’s that?” Helen couldn’t say right off, but she wasn’t about to just concede the point.
“This is a very dangerous situation. It requires extreme measures.”
“So sleeping next to me is an extreme measure?”
“Why are you so angry?” Helen was genuinely surprised by his tone. She wanted to calm him, but she didn’t even understand the reason for his ire.
“I get angry any time I feel I’m being used.”
“I beg your pardon?” Zeke pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted so he could look Helen in the eye.
“You used me to get out of here. You used me for food, now you crawl into my bed so you can use me for warmth.” Helen hopped down and stood facing him.
“You didn’t exactly put up a fight.” she said defiantly. Zeke didn’t know what to do.
“Maybe you should just walk home.” he snapped. Helen narrowed her eyes.
“Give me back my boots and I will.” Zeke stomped to his horse and removed her boots from the pouch. He then stomped back over to her and threw them with all his might. They sailed through the air and landed somewhere in the knee-high grass.
“There.” he said, “Happy trails.” Helen folded her arms.
“You’re acting like a child.” she informed him. Zeke got back onto his horse and made to leave. “I don’t believe you’re going to leave me here.” Zeke turned around.
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“Because,” said Helen, “that’s not what a gentleman does, and you are a gentleman.” Zeke looked away for a moment. Helen continued, “I don’t know why you’re so angry, but whatever I did, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Zeke made no reply. “Now I’m going to find my boots, and then we can be on our way. Deal?” Again, Zeke was silent. “I’ll take your silence as assent.” said Helen and then she marched off in search of her beloved boots.
Why is he being such an ass, she thought to herself as she scoured the ground for the boots. It was difficult to see anything on the ground as the grass was tall and thick. Lost in her recriminations, she did not notice the soft rattling sound that was coming from somewhere close, and when she saw her boots lying on the ground, she dashed over to them and the rattling grew louder. She bent down to pick up them up and a loud hiss came from her right.
Mechanically, she turned her head and there, a scant four feet from her was a full-grown rattlesnake, poised to strike. Her heart stopped and her blood froze. Fear paralyzed her muscles and stifled her voice.
“Zeke…” she tried to scream, “Zeke…” but her throat was locked with tension. She closed her eyes and forced herself to block out everything. She concentrated all her energy. It was like trying to call out in a nightmare and being so frustratingly unable to. She took a deep breath.
“Zeke!” she yelled with volume.
“What?” came the faint, annoyed reply.
“Help!” was all she could manage.
“Help what?” he was clearly displeased. Helen’s mind threatened to desert her.
“Please.” she said, her voice dropping decibels and tears stinging her eyes. Zeke could hear the panic in her voice and dismounted, gun in hand.
“You all right?” he called out. Tears fell down her cheeks and Helen could barely answer.
“No.” she whimpered like a child. The snake had locked eyes with her and was coiling back. She dared not move, even if she thought her muscles were capable of obeying her. Everything slowed down.
Helen saw the snake’s jaw opening. She could see its fangs as clear as day. It shot out towards her, impossibly slow, as though it were moving through molasses. I’m going to die, thought Helen. The snake will bite me and I will die. She could see its mouth open as wide as a cavern, two stalactite and venomous fangs mere inches from her. Her eyes widened with terror. Then, in mid-strike, the snake exploded in a shower of blood as its head simply disappeared. Helen fell to the ground, curled in a little ball as Zeke rushed to her side.
“Are you all right?” he kept repeating. Helen couldn’t answer. Zeke scooped her up into his arms as she hugged his neck so tightly he thought she would choke the life straight out of him. Quickly he carried her away and set her gingerly on the ground near his horse that seemed not to have noticed the drama play out as he grazed on the grass at his feet.
Zeke supported her back with one large hand and wiped her cheeks with the other. Tears of relief streamed down her face and she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.
“Thank you.” she whispered. Eventually Zeke returned the embrace. He felt ashamed of himself for his earlier behavior and when Helen had collected herself, he stood and made his way back into the brush.
“Where are you going?” she sniffed.
“To get your boots.” he answered. Helen laughed and wiped her tears away.
As they rode on, Helen’s thoughts were as far from the task at hand as they could possibly be. Facing death was becoming a habit for her and she wondered what that might mean. She had always thought of herself as strong and resilient, but that opinion had been formed in a world of lace and lavender. It amused her to think that, were she to merely recount her tail to her friends, they would most likely faint, but she was still upright. Tested twice and passed twice, she thought to herself, what else might I be able to accomplish? She was now more man than most of the men she knew. This idea pleased her greatly, but it certainly did not apply to Zeke.
She allowed herself to slide back in the saddle ever so slightly so she could press against his chest more solidly. He didn’t seem to notice. Every so often, he would turn his head, scanning the landscape and she would feel the bristle on his chin intermingle with stray bits of her own hair. It made her smile. She wanted this to go on and on.
Zeke stopped the horse.
“Stay here.” he said, dismounting and fetching his spyglass from one of his pouches. Helen wondered what he was doing. She looked around. The ground had been rising ever so gently for some time now and they seemed to be at the top of a ridge. There were small bushes and a few trees peppering the landscape, but she saw nothing of interest. Zeke was approaching the crest of the ridge slowly and carefully, crouching ever closer to the ground as he did so until at last he was crawling on his belly. Helen watched him for several minutes. He was observing something with his spyglass and not moving a muscle. Curiosity eventually overwhelmed her and she too dismounted. Carefully and quietly, she did exactly as Zeke had done, creeping silently towards him and then crawling slowly up next to his side.
They were indeed on a ridge, one that afforded them a grand view of a small valley. In the center of the cleari
ng, there appeared to be a small encampment. Helen could not tell its nature nor size, but it seemed harmless to her.
“I knew it.” growled Zeke.
“What?” without answering, Zeke passed her the spyglass. Through it, she could see five men going about their business. Nearby, a group of about seven women sat blindfolded with their hands tied behind their backs. Helen gasped. This was the fate she had escaped. She couldn’t see their faces, but she did recognize some of the dresses, though they were now dirty and ragged. She’d been sitting very near the girl in the green dress. At the time she had thought it a gaudy shade. That thinking seemed so alien to her now.
Slowly, Zeke crawled backwards and Helen followed suit. When they were far enough back, Zeke stood and dusted himself off.
“Well,” he finally said, “the good news is they ain’t Comanche.”
“Why is that good news?”
“Means they’re more likely to bargain. White men only care about money.” Realization dawned on her.
“They are selling those women?” asked Helen.
“Yep,” said Zeke, “and we’re buying.” Helen exhaled and relaxed. Zeke would come to their rescue, she was sure of it. He opened one of his saddlebags and peered inside, then seemed to be doing sums in his head.
“Damn.” he said, “We’re gonna need a new plan. I don’t have enough.” Helen decided she didn’t want to know exactly how or why Zeke might know how much it took to buy a woman. She merely watched as the gears in his head turned round. “Okay,” he finally said, “here’s what we’ll do. We’ll ride down there and I’ll make out like I aim to sell you, or trade you. When I find the girl I’m looking for, I’ll just start shooting and hopefully I’ll be alive when it’s all done.” Helen grimaced.
“That doesn’t sound like a good plan at all.” she said, worrying as much for his safety as for her own.
“Well I’ll allow that it ain’t the best idea, but we need the element of surprise. Whoever these fellas are, they know what they’re doing. They put their camp where they can see anything coming a mile away. Now we ain’t got a choice.”
“I don’t like this plan.” repeated Helen sourly.
“It’s all we got.” said Zeke, “Now follow me.” Helen did as she was told and followed Zeke back down to a small creek. They walked along the bank until they came to a small inlet between two large rocks that was deep enough for Zeke’s idea.
“Okay,” he said, “we need to get you cleaned up.” Helen looked at the water, then back at Zeke.
“Why?”
“Ain’t nobody gonna be interested in a dirty girl who looks like she’s been dragged down the trail, and if they ain’t interested, they won’t talk. I need to get them talking. I need every minute I can get.”
“Why?”
“Because I need time to find the girl I’m looking for.”
“What about the other girls?”
“Look,” Zeke sighed, “I’ll do what I can, but them other girls are on their own.” He could see this would not satisfy Helen, “There’s a town just on the other side of this valley. They can make it there in an hour or two if they keep a quick pace. I already have more on my plate than I’d like. I can’t look after an entire flock of girls. Now get undressed and get in the water. I’ll turn my back.” Zeke turned around but Helen did not oblige. His patience was all but gone. “Helen,” he snapped, shattering her reveries, “I don’t have time for this. Undress and get in the water. Now!” He turned his back once more.
“So if it weren’t for the fact that you need this English girl, you’d leave these other poor women to their awful fate?” Without turning around, Zeke growled at her.
“Get undressed, Helen. I will not say it again.” Helen eyed him from the back, his broad shoulders and thick arms. She could offer no physical resistance, but that isn’t what bothered her. Slowly she removed her trousers and then the shirt, which he held against herself, hiding her nakedness. Zeke turned around.
“Good.” he snapped, “Now get in the water and get clean.”
“Give me some privacy and I will.” Zeke was not in the mood.
“You’ll do what I tell you. You think I don’t realize you ain’t too big on this plan? You just want privacy so you can give me the slip and I don’t have time to go hunting you down. Now get in the water.” Helen tried to stare him down but it was no use. Slowly she edged down to the water and stepped in. It was cold and reached up to her knees. She could see down to the bottom. Another few steps and she could submerge herself completely. She turned back to face Zeke, still holding the shirt against herself.
“Can’t I go in with my clothes on?” she pleaded.
“We don’t have time to wait for them to dry.”
“What about the blanket?”
“That’s what were going to use to dry you off. Now quit stalling, toss the shirt up here and take your bath, because I’m not taking my eyes off you even for a second.”
“You’re just making excuses because you want to see me naked.” Helen spat at him. Zeke chuckled.
“Is that what you think? You think I conjured this entire situation just so I could get a glimpse of a naked girl who has all the womanly attributes of a fourteen-year-old boy?” Helen’s face changed from combative to mortally wounded in the space of a breath and Zeke immediately regretted hurting her, but at the same time, he could not relent. Time was short. For a second, he was sure she would burst into tears, but instead she narrowed her eyes, set her jaw and threw the shirt at his feet.
Seeing her standing there, naked and defiant, Zeke would have to admit he’d been wrong. She was beautiful. Her skin was flawlessly smooth. Anger lit her eyes and flushed her cheeks. He was stunned and couldn’t help his gaze from tracing every delicate curve of her body. His jaw fell slack and he averted his eyes, blushing. Helen smiled. She had won.
“I thought you weren’t going to take your eyes off me for even a second.” she quipped, adding, “You can close your mouth now.” before stepping into the water and completely hiding herself beneath the surface. Zeke swallowed hard and didn’t know where to look. Helen reveled in his discomfort.
She rubbed the grime from her arms and was surprised at how much there actually was.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so dirty.” she grinned mischievously.
“Mm hmm.” was all Zeke could manage as he looked around at everything but her. Helen had to suppress a laugh. Zeke had seemed so big and tough before. Now he was blushing like a little boy.
When she was done tormenting him, she washed the dirt from her hair and asked for the blanket. Zeke tossed it to her without looking.
“Thanks.” she said, wrapping it around herself as she emerged from the water, “Aren’t you going in?” she joked as she dried off. Zeke grumbled something about time and kept his attention focused elsewhere. When she was dried and dressed, Zeke looked her over.
“Can you do anything with your hair?” he asked.
“You could braid it for me.” replied Helen, now full of her old confidence. Again, Zeke resorted to grumbling.
“Let’s go.” he said, fetching the blanket.
He tied the blanket to his saddle and retrieved his rifle and spyglass. With Helen close behind, he crept into position again, prone at the top of the ridge. Below at the camp, little if anything had changed. Helen lay quietly next to him, straining her vision.
“What are we doing?” she finally asked after several minutes of silent observation.
“Waiting.” answered Zeke. It was the first thing he had said since they had come back from the river. After another several minutes’ worth of silence, Helen resumed her questioning.
“Waiting for what?” Zeke didn’t answer. Helen looked him over. “Don’t be angry.” she admonished gently, “Just tell me what they’re doing.” Zeke sighed. Arguing with her was pointless, especially when she was right. He was angry, he just couldn’t say why.
“We’re waiting for an opportunity.”
<
br /> “How do you mean? An opportunity for what?”
“We don’t want to just ride down there, guns ablazing if we don’t have to. The girls are safe. I’ve got them in my sights. No reason to hurry. If they send even one fella out for supplies, then that’s one less gun for me to worry about.”
“Then what?”
“I told you, I’ll try to get them talking, then when I’ve found the girl, I’ll make my move. You take that little belt pistol and just start firing. The noise will distract them. I’ll keep Alaine near me. If we get separated, you take the other girls and head over those hills to the other side of the glen. I’ll cover you.”
“Then what?”
“Worry about surviving the first part before you start making a fuss about the after part.” The seriousness of the situation began to dawn on Helen. Someone was going to die today. Possibly Zeke. Possibly her. She had never been confronted with such a grim scenario. The attack on the train had happened so quickly, she didn’t have time to think. Now, lying quietly on the ground surrounded by silence, it seemed strange to think that this stillness would soon be pierced by gunshots and this idyllic green valley would be stained with blood.
“Zeke,” she said after some time, “I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah?” Zeke was still looking through the spyglass.
“Nothing.” said Helen after a moment. Zeke took his eye out of the spyglass and looked at her.
“It’s all right to be afraid.” he told her, “It happens to everyone.”
“Not you.” she countered.
“Of course it does.”
“What are you afraid of?” he turned his attention back to the camp.
“Lots of things.” he finally said. Helen was curious and wanted to know more, but pressing him to talk about his fears at this particular moment seemed like bad form if not bad luck, so she kept quiet.
For a very long time, they did not move. Helen marveled at Zeke’s discipline. Every few seconds it seemed she needed to shift her weight or scratch an itch. In fact, the more she concentrated on not moving, the more impossible it became. Beside her though, Zeke was motionless. She wanted to talk, wanted to know what he was thinking, but she did not ask. Instead, she tried to concentrate on the sound of the wind and the birds, anything to take her mind off what might happen soon. Some part of her wanted to believe that it would be all right, that the silence would be unbroken and Death would play no part in this day, that at a given time, she and Zeke would simply stand up and ride away. She knew it was folly. Zeke was so focused on his goal that he didn’t seem to blink.
Hell for Leather Page 6
