From what Helen could tell, nothing had moved in the camp for some time. The women sat, still blindfolded and the men mostly just lounged about. The day was wearing on.
“If it gets dark and nothing happens,” said Zeke, “we’ll try to sneak down there and do it quick while they’re sleeping.” This plan appealed to Helen and she hoped it would come to that. Nice and quiet. She was busy picturing a successful escape when she noticed a lone rider approaching the camp from the other direction. The men in the camp began to move, forcing the women to stand up in a line, still bound and blindfolded.
“What’s going on?” whispered Helen, “Who is that?” Zeke was still peering through his spyglass.
“Don’t know.” he said, “Maybe a fella come to buy a girl, or hopefully all of them.”
“Why is that good?”
“Then we could just follow him and shoot him when he’s out of sight of the camp.”
“You would shoot him?”
“Any man buying and selling women ain’t got no claim on life. I’ll kill every last one of them to get back home.” This kind of violence scared Helen. How could he be at once so protective and so dangerous? It was a mindset she could not understand.
Together they watched as the rider entered the camp. He was well dressed, but that was all they could tell about him being as they were some six hundred yards away. He dismounted and approached one of the men. They did not shake hands but seemed to know one another. After a short conversation, they walked to the line of women and the lone rider examined each, one by one. There were eight, not seven as Helen had originally figured. She wondered how she had missed one. When they had looked all the women over, the rider turned to leave. The man from the camp grabbed his arm and a heated discussion ensued. The other men in the camp begin to converge around them as they argued.
“What’s happening?” asked Alaine.
“I have not a clue,” answered Zeke grimly, “but it don’t look good.” After a few minutes, the well-dressed rider removed what looked like a small purse from his pocket and emptied what Helen presumed to be coins into his hand. Before handing them to the other man, he pointed animatedly the direction that Helen and Zeke lay hiding. What were they doing? The well-dressed man turned back, mounted his horse and started off in the direction from which he had come.
The men of the camp gathered around one another in a small discussion that ended when the leader made a dismissive gesture with his arm. A few of the men could be heard whooping and hollering as they began pawing at the girls and throwing them on the ground.
“Goddamnit.” said Zeke to no one in particular. Below, they were tearing clothes and removing belts. One of the women, overcome with fear, took flight and ran as fast as she could being blindfolded with her hands tied behind her. A large man calmly drew his pistol and shot her in the back. Helen saw this happen. Saw the smoke from his gun, and watched the girl fall dead and then the sound of the shot echoed around her ears.
“Goddamnit.” repeated Zeke, looking down the sights of his formidable rifle. The mighty blast of the weapon shocked her eardrums and she opened her eyes just in time to see the ball strike the murderer in his right shoulder, spinning him like a top and dropping him to the ground.
The entire encampment froze like a demented tableau. Taking the advantage, Zeke drew a bead on another of the outlaws and fired again. This time, he hit his target square in the chest and blew him clear off the girl he was trying to assault.
Suddenly, all of the men dove for cover leaving the women terrified. Shots rang out from pistol and rifle. Zeke knew that if he continued to fire, they would soon know his exact location, but he was not worried. They had lost the advantage of surprise but still had the advantage of range. Only Zeke’s rifle the cover that distance.
Calmly, he set about picking his targets. He couldn’t see the men, but their horses were sitting ducks. He aimed. Fired. A horse dropped. Aimed again. Fired. Another dead horse. By this time, one of the girls had freed her hands and removed her blindfold. Gallantly, she quickly did the same for the rest and they all started running as fast as they could towards the other side of the valley.
The men in the camp paid them no mind, concentrating as they were on hurling lead in Zeke’s direction. He could see their ineffectual rounds hitting the dirt yards and yards before reaching his position.
“They’re going to make it!” cried Helen, knowing that the girls were unwittingly running towards the town and safety. She watched as one of the men mounted his horse and started after them. “Zeke, help them!” Zeke swung his rifle in their direction and fired. Nothing. The rider was getting closer. Zeke aimed again and fired, this time striking the horse which fell violently, tossing its rider who would not be easily stopped. He began chasing the women on foot and firing his pistol at them, luckily hitting nothing. Zeke fired, his shot hitting the ground in front of the pursuer. When Zeke’s next shot nearly caught his knee, the man smartly turned back and took cover behind the horse. “You did it!” Helen exclaimed. Zeke said nothing but turned his attention back to the camp.
“Take this.” he said handing Helen the rifle, “If they move, shoot ‘em.”
“I can’t hit them from here.”
“They don’t know that.” he said, crawling back from the ridge and standing up.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to get those girls.” he said, checking his weapons.
“But you saved them. It’s done.”
“No.” said Zeke, “It ain’t done. I have to find this English girl. I have to bring her back. If I don’t, then this is all for nothing.”
“But there are armed men between you and them.”
“Then I’ll kill ‘em.”
“But you’re outnumbered.” cried Helen, “They’ll kill you.”
“We’ll see.” replied Zeke, slinging his leg over his horse. Helen clambered away from the ridge so she could stand.
“Wait, Zeke, I must tell you something.”
“Now ain’t the time, Helen.” Zeke turned his horse away from her and made to leave.
“My name’s not Helen.” she said, “It’s Alaine.” Her Boston accent disappeared, instantly replaced with a crisp British pronunciation. Zeke paused and looked her over.
“That’s a neat trick, Helen.” he said, “and I’m touched that your worried, but I have to go.”
“It’s true.” she cried, the tears in her eyes seemed somehow convincing. Zeke didn’t know what to do.
“Horseshit.” he said, “Alaine had a locket.” She reached into the pockets of her trousers.
“It’s here. I hid it when the train was attacked. I thought they would take it.”
“Give it here.” ordered Zeke. She tossed it to him. It was small and silver. He opened it to find a small tin type of a woman who looked like an older version of the girl he’d been calling ‘Helen.’ “Who gave this to you?”
“My mother.” she answered with tears still on her cheeks. Zeke turned the locket over in his hand. The inscription read, “AMY, my poppet.”
“Who is a Amy?” he demanded.
“Those are my initials. Alaine Maureen Yates.” Anger erupted in Zeke’s chest as he realized she was telling the truth. He jumped down from his horse and stormed over to her.
“Are you out of your goddamned mind?” he yelled, “You have any idea how much danger you put yourself in? We could have both been killed! What the hell were you thinking?”
“You said if it weren’t for me, you would let those girls die. I wanted you to save them!”
“Goddamnit.” snarled Zeke, grabbing her by the arm, “Get on the horse.” Helen/Alaine jerked her arm free.
“No.” she snapped, “Make sure those girls are safe.” Zeke picked her up over his shoulder and tossed her across the saddle, all the while with her kicking and fighting. He mounted and steered his horse back up to the ridge. The girls had nearly reached the other side and no one was pursuing them.
“
They’re already safe.” he said and seeing that he was right, she stopped fighting. They could both see the men in the camp slowly making their way up to their position. “We need to get out of here.” said Zeke and the two of them made tracks as fast as they could.
Alaine sat quietly as he pushed his horse to put as much distance between them and that entire scene as was possible. He was not talking and was certainly in no mood to hear her talk. She wondered if he might just leave for here. That was silly, she assured herself. He needed her. She was convinced that she had done the right thing. Those other women would be safe now because of her, even if it had incurred the wrath of the man who had saved her life twice now.
As night began its descent and Zeke’s horse seemed on the verge of collapse, he jerked the reins to a stop, dismounted and angrily yanked her out of the saddle, setting her none too gently on her feet.
“All right you,” he growled, “start talking.”
“Very well.” agreed Alaine, “What about?”
“Do not trifle with me girl. Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
“I didn’t know I could trust you. It seemed prudent to hide my identity.”
“Well why keep it hidden when you knew I was looking for you?”
“I told you. I wanted to help those poor women.” Zeke’s anger relented slightly. He had to respect the fact that it was a noble cause.
“How did you come by such a convincing accent? And why use it?”
“Helen is a real person. She’s my attendant. We’ve always played at mimicking one another. She’s quite good. To be honest, I wasn’t really thinking about it. I was scared. I didn’t want to let on anything about myself that might make me appear any weaker or less able. I suppose I thought if you took me for an American you might think me more capable. Luckily, your ears are not attuned to a Boston accent, so you had nothing to compare it to.” Zeke wouldn’t admit it, but the girl was quite clever. He calmed down substantially upon realizing that he’d succeeded in finding her and would soon be free to return home.
“Well,” he finally said, “we’ll have to stop here for the night.”
“Very well. Shall I gather firewood?”
“Can’t.” answered Zeke, “Them fellas are liable to come looking for whoever shot at them. A fire will lead them straight to us. No fire. We wake at first light and press on. The sooner I get you back to Smythe the better.”
“George is here?” piped Alaine.
“He’s the one who sent me to find you.”
“Oh.” murmured Alaine, “I thought my husband Arthur might have sent you.”
“So you are married then?”
“Not every word out of my mouth has been a lie, Zeke.” Zeke had unrolled his blanket and was making himself comfortable. Alaine stood awkwardly. “If we don’t make a fire, how do we keep warm?” Zeke put his hat over his face.
“Use a blanket.” he grumbled.
“May I sleep with you?” she asked meekly.
“Nope.” Alaine stood in silence for a few moments thinking he might change his mind. When he made no effort to do so, she ventured further.
“But why not?” Zeke ignored her. “Why not?” She repeated her question with a tone that suggested both anger and sadness.
“I heard you the first time.” was all he said.
“Well?” she was getting impatient, but then again, so was he. Zeke took his hat off his face and turned to look at her.
“Ain’t you married?” he asked her directly, causing her to avert her eyes for a second before returning the volley.
“Yes.” she conceded, “Just as I was last night when we slept beside each other.” This time, it was Zeke who was forced to look away.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.” he answered after a moment, “You think your husband would like you sleeping under blankets with another man?”
“But it’s cold.” Alaine finally said. Zeke put his hat back over his face.
“You’ll live.” he said icily. Alaine felt like crying, but steeled herself instead and began preparing her own bed. He had a point, she knew, but the truth is not as simple as all that. Yes, she was married, but she was not in love with the man her father had chosen as her husband. He was a good enough man, she thought to herself as she pulled the blanket tighter around her, but he always seemed more interested in money and business than her. She tried to be a good wife, but nothing she did caught his eye. When he sent word for her to join him in San Francisco, she was at once thrilled and confused. It was a very uncharacteristic request. Perhaps, she told herself, he was ready to have children. She drifted off to sleep that night picturing what those children might look like.
Far away in the darkness, thunder growled.
In the morning when they woke, the sky was overcast and clouds as black as cancer gathered on the western horizon. Zeke stood still for some time, silently watching them.
“There’s always a chance the storm might miss us.” offered Alaine.
“Yeah.” replied Zeke before turning his attention to packing camp. Alaine dutifully followed suit.
They were headed east, away from the storm, but Zeke was not kicking his horse into a gallop. He wanted to save its strength. The storm clouds also seemed to be in no hurry and Alaine spent most of the morning silently wishing them away. It was silly, she knew, but she hoped that if those clouds disappeared, then Zeke would speak to her again as though they were the very clouds that darkened his face when he looked at her.
“Zeke?” she said after hours of unbearable silence.
“What?” his voice was as cold as the storm front.
“I hope you will forgive me for lying to you.”
“Mm.” she didn’t know exactly what that response was intended to convey, so she went on.
“I didn’t mean any ill will and while I did deceive you, I did so with an eye to the greater good.” She waited for a response.
“Yep.” was all she got.
“I hope we can be friends.” she finally said.
“I don’t need friends.”
“Oh, On the contrary.” she said, her refined British accent tickled his ears despite himself, “You can always do with friends. Especially out here.” She wanted him to smile and welcome her back into his good graces with some charming American phrase she had never heard before, but Zeke said nothing. Alaine was getting irritated. He had no right to treat her this way. Her transgression was rather mild, given the circumstances. He couldn’t be that angry over a little lie, could he? “Zeke,” she continued, “you really should learn to…”
“Hush.” he snapped, pulling his horse to a stop. Zeke turned his ear back west and listened. Alaine could hear nothing.
“What is it?” she whispered, but Zeke did not answer. After several moments, she began to detect the sound of very distant thunder. “Sounds like the storm is getting closer.” she said, hoping to impress Zeke.
“That ain’t thunder.” Zeke answered grimly before tightening his grip on the reins and kicking his mount into an all-out sprint. The jolt of sudden speed took Alaine by surprise and she held on for dear life as his horse bore them swiftly away from whatever was behind them.
Alaine’s fear mounted with every minute that Zeke ran his horse across the landscape without saying a word. He ran as if the devil himself were behind them. She knew better than to ask what was happening. She would just have to trust Zeke to handle it, whatever it was.
After what felt to her like hours but which was probably only a few dozen minutes, Zeke pulled the reins abruptly, steering them to their left. This seemed a great bit of foolishness to Alaine, as there was nothing there to hide them. Indeed, the land was bare but for a few small bushes no higher than her waist.
They tore through the field before stopping suddenly near one of those bushes. Zeke jumped down and quickly removed his rifle from its scabbard.
“Get down.” he barked to Alaine as he readied his weapon. Alaine merely scanned their back trail.
&nb
sp; “Why?” she wanted to know. Zeke was having none of it. He grabbed her arm in a death grip.
“Get down.” he growled, jerking her out of the saddle. Alaine stood quietly in shock. “Hold this.” He said, thrusting his rifle into her hands. She took it as though under the spell of a hypnotist. Alaine watched as Zeke took his horse’s bridle in both hands. Slowly, he maneuvered him in a tight circle spiraled down to the ground. Where the horse’s head went, his body followed and in an instant, the horse was lying on its side with Zeke placing his body across the beast’s neck. Alaine was still standing like a statue. Zeke reached up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to the ground as well. He wrenched the rifle from her grasp and trained it in the direction they had just come. Without looking at her, he warned her.
“Don’t move and don’t make a sound.” Terrified, Alaine did as she was told and was scarcely able to breathe. At first, there was nothing, then her ears began to detect the faint sound of rolling thunder. Gradually, the rumbling grew louder and she realized it was the sound of horses galloping at full speed. She looked at Zeke. His sights were tracking them as they blazed past following the trail she and Zeke had been riding, but only his eyes moved. Everything else was stillness.
It was over in just a few minutes. The riders were gone and the sound of their thundering horses began to fade. Even so, Zeke did not move for some time. Eventually, he stood and as soon as his weight was off his horse’s neck, the horse rose and seemed none the worse for wear.
“Were those the men from the camp?” asked Alaine as Zeke hurriedly stashed his rifle.
Hell for Leather Page 7
