This wasn’t good. Roon set the air rifle and pack down and crept out of the tack room to the door of the barn. He opened and closed it loudly. Dani raised her head and saw him walking toward the stall. She quickly wiped her cheeks and struggled to her feet.
“Roon. What are you doing up? It’s three a.m.,” she said.
“I always check on the barn at three a.m.,” Roon said. “It is the weakest hour, when the young and the sick sometimes drift away.” He looked into the stall. “Not this time, though. She is strong, and getting stronger by the day. But you are weak. You should get some rest before the dawn.”
Dani nodded. “I was just heading back,” she said. “Thank you for all you’ve done, Roon. Saving that foal is the one good thing that’s happened in the past few days.”
“There will be others,” Roon said.
“I hope so,” she said, but there was a look of hopelessness about her. She probably thought she would never see Joe again, but she was wrong about that. “Good night, Roon,” she said, and left the barn carrying her flashlight. Roon waited until he was sure she was back at the house before pulling his phone out of his pocket and contacting the boys.
It’s time, he messaged.
* * *
DANI CLIMBED THE steps to the porch with great weariness. She sat on the wall bench and looked out at the night. The rain and strong wind had mostly passed, and the storm was a distant rumble moving eastward, over the mountains. In the morning the ranch would be crawling with federal agents and local police. Right now, all was quiet, just the drip of rainwater off the eaves. She could have gone back to her room but she would have only lain in bed awake, waiting for dawn.
She went inside. Everyone had gone to bed to get what rest they could, but the coffee in the pot was still hot. She poured herself another cup and carried it back out to the porch along with the wool blanket Ramalda had hung behind the kitchen stove to dry. She sat with the blanket over her shoulders and the mug cradled in her hands. The minutes turned into an hour, and then a hoarse whisper came out of the dark and roused her from her meditation.
Badger’s voice, trying to be quiet.
“I can’t get my boot on, dang it. My sock’s all folded up in the toe!”
“Hush up, you’ll wake the dead,” Charlie whispered back. “It’s gonna be light soon. We have to make tracks before everybody rolls out of bed. Thought you said you wouldn’t fall asleep.”
“You weren’t no better at staying awake, and now we might’ve lost ’em.”
Dani sat up, straining to see in the murky darkness. It sounded like the men were coming out of the old cook shack they bunked in, but why were they wandering around at this time of night? And where were they going? She set her cold mug of coffee aside and rose to her feet, gathering the blanket around her like a cloak. She could hear them walking toward the barn, still whispering hoarsely.
She followed them, and when she entered the barn there was a light on at the far end where the tack room was. There were noises from within and then Badger and Charlie emerged, carrying saddles and bridles. They stopped short when they saw her. “Wherever you’re going, I’m coming with you,” she said.
“You can’t,” Badger replied. “Ain’t safe.”
“If you don’t let me go with you, I’ll wake everybody up,” Dani threatened.
“These here are snuffy horses we’ll be riding,” Charlie said. “Mustangs dropped off by the BLM for the boys to gentle. You could get pitched off pretty easy, and where we’re going, it’s almost a vertical trail. A tough ride for an experienced hand.”
“Saddle me a horse,” Dani demanded.
Badger glared at her. “No time to argue. Saddle her a horse, Charlie.” To Dani he said, “It’ll be whatever Charlie’s rope catches first. These horses can be dauncy,” he warned. “The boys took all the broke ones.”
“The boys are gone?”
“We figure they’re riding up to the line camp and they got an hour’s jump on us.”
“So that’s why Roon was out in the barn,” Dani said.
“They must figure that chopper’s up near the line camp and they’ve headed up to rescue whoever needs rescuing. We’ll have to ride fast to catch up.”
“I won’t slow you down, I promise.”
Badger nodded. “Grab a saddle and bridle and follow us to the back paddock.”
Ten minutes later Charlie had roped three of the snorting, stampeding horses they’d startled into wakefulness and he and Badger were saddling them. Badger had a rifle and he slid it into a saddle scabbard. Charlie was unarmed. When Dani figured out which horse was to be hers, she used the leather straps behind the saddle to securely fasten the rolled-up blanket. The mustang shied in circles around Badger as she tied it on, but she followed the horse around until the job was done. She wasn’t leaving Luther Makes Elk’s blanket behind.
“We’ll lead ’em out a way, to where the trail heads up toward the pass,” Badger said, handing her the reins to the bay horse, who looked very excited about the prospect of a predawn ride.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Damned if I know,” Badger growled. “We just got this new batch in last week.”
Dani attempted to give the horse a tentative pat on the neck and he flung his head up in alarm and shied away from her. “Easy,” she said, then followed the two men out of the corral, her horse dancing at the end of the reins. They walked a fair distance before Badger said it was time to mount up. Dani stopped her horse, who stepped nervously around her, snorting and tossing his head.
“You think he’s going to buck me off?” she asked as they prepared to mount their horses.
“He does look hostile,” Badger replied.
Badger pulled his own horse’s head around tight toward him when he stabbed his boot into the stirrup and his horse jumped forward, causing him to lose his balance and stumble backward with a curse. It took him three tries and a big struggle, complete with some painful moaning and cursing, to get his leg over the saddle. Dani observed this and decided if Badger could ride a wild mustang with all that arthritis pain and a bad hip, she could dang well do it, too.
But it wasn’t lost on her that if Charlie hadn’t come over and held her horse while she awkwardly hoisted herself into the saddle, she would never have gotten aboard. “Just keep this mustang reined in tight. Don’t let him have his head. This horse wants to run,” Charlie told her before letting go of the reins. “He’ll get tired out quick enough once we get goin’. The trail gets real steep in a mile or so. If you can stay in the saddle for that long, you’ll have ’er licked. Just follow after Badger. I’ll be right behind you.”
Without further talk, they were off. Dani’s horse was a bunched-up ball of energy underneath her, and it only took five steps before she realized it would be a miracle if she stayed on this horse for even the next five steps. She felt a pang of real fear and then she thought about Joe, and she grit her teeth and took firm hold of the reins. “You’re not going to get rid of me so easy,” she murmured softly into the nervous flicker of her horse’s ears. “Just be a good boy, okay? This is my very first horseback ride.”
Her horse didn’t buck or jump sideways, but he pranced off as if on tightly coiled springs, snorting at every step, and Dani knew she was riding a potential rocket that could easily blast her to the moon. She caught up to Badger at once, and thankfully the trail closed in and steepened, so there was nothing her horse could do except charge up to Badger’s horse and then follow behind. The trail that she’d thought was steep in the beginning was flat in comparison to what lay ahead. Within fifteen minutes she’d dropped the tightly clenched reins and was holding on to the saddle horn with all her strength as her horse lunged upward. She hoped the saddle didn’t slide off because if it did she was a goner.
“Yer doin’ jest fine,” she heard Cha
rlie reassure her, but she was reasonably sure he was lying.
* * *
ROON HELD HIS hand up to stop the boys behind him. They reined in their tired horses and let them take a breather while he looked through the fringe of trees at the edge of the meadow. The whole time they’d been climbing up to the line camp he’d been racking his brain for a way to cause an effective diversion, but nothing came to mind. And now, here it was, right in front of him. It was a miracle, sent by White Buffalo Woman and Luther Makes Elk.
“Buffalo,” he said. “Two o’clock. I count eight.”
Jimmy kicked his horse up alongside, craning to see. “Pony says buffalo are scared of people on horseback.”
“That’s right,” Roon said. “That’s why we use the four-wheelers to move them around, but we can use their fear of horses to our advantage. We’ll move the buffalo ahead of us, toward the cabin. We’ll stay behind them and get as close as we can. We have to do this quick, because as soon as it gets light, they’ll fly that chopper out of here.”
Martin stood in his stirrups, peering into the murk. “Can you see the helicopter?”
“No,” Roon said. “But it’s there, and so are they. I smell wood smoke.” He looked behind at the other boys. “Keep your phones in your pants pockets, but make sure the ringers are off. We’ll communicate by text message.”
“Traditional Crow warrior tactics.” Jimmy snickered nervously, adjusting the sling around his shoulder that held his bow and quiver of arrows.
“Beats smoke signals,” Ralph said.
“Do we have a plan yet?”
“We do now. Those buffalo were sent to help us,” Roon said. “I’m going to get around them and find a good spot on the other side of the creek from the cabin. Give me ten minutes to get into position. I’ll text you once I’m in place. Then start the buffalo moving. Get them running, if you can, but don’t make any human noise. Don’t give yourselves away. The noise’ll bring one or two or maybe even all of Marconi’s men outside to see what’s coming. I’ll shoot them with the tranquilizer darts as they exit.”
“What if they start shooting at us?”
“Be like the deer, don’t give them a target,” Roon said. “Once the buffalo start running toward the cabin, get off your horses and hide in the woods. Split up. Become invisible and crafty like the coyote. These are city slickers—they don’t know what’s out here, so every little noise will sound like a big scary grizzly to them. If everything falls apart, hide in the woods, keep out of sight and make your way back to the ranch.” He looked at all of them, each in turn. “We can do this,” he said. “We will do this. We are the children of the raven. We are warriors.”
Roon nudged his horse forward, holding the air rifle crosswise in front of him. The boys watched him ride off.
“Be careful,” Jimmy called after him in his thin, reedy voice, but Roon didn’t pause or look back.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DANI WAS AT the limit of her endurance, and still the trail climbed. The horses lunged upward. They were plowing through patches of snow, deep patches that other horses and riders had already struggled through, breaking trail and making passage easier for them. It was light enough now so she could see the color of Badger’s faded denim jacket and the time-worn shabbiness of it. He hadn’t looked back once to make sure she was still there, but then, he’d made it pretty plain that he hadn’t wanted her along. He was worried about the boys, and she understood that. She felt it, too. Fear for the boys, and for Joe.
She clung to the saddle horn with all her strength and alternately wrapped her arms around the sweaty neck of her horse when it seemed he was clawing his way vertically into the sky. She praised him when she could, which wasn’t nearly often enough for the heroic effort he was making. Every muscle in her body was shaking when they finally crested the trail and Badger reined in his horse and raised his hand, halting them abruptly.
“Listen. Hear that?” he said.
All Dani heard was the deep, gasping breaths of three lathered-up and winded horses and the loud pounding of her own heart, but Charlie, behind her, said, “Yep. That’s buffalo, and they’re running hard.”
Badger pulled his rifle from the scabbard and jacked a round into the chamber. The sharp sound made all three horses jump. He looked back at her for the first time. “You wait here,” he said, steely-eyed.
“But—”
“Wait here,” he repeated, his voice like a whiplash. Dani knew better than to argue. She nodded, dry mouthed with fear. She knew death was riding on this dawn.
Charlie nudged his horse around hers. “We don’t have much time to waste if we’re goin’ to help them boys,” he said.
Badger drew a deep breath and blew it out in disgust. “Damn that Roon. He always was a wild one, wild as these horses,” he said. “Well, come on. We best get to doing what needs to be done.”
Two old men, Dani thought as she watched them ride into the early light. Two brave old men. But what could they possibly do to thwart a bunch of professional killers? What could those boys do? She had to hold her horse back tightly to keep him from following Charlie and Badger as they rode toward the meadow’s edge. She could hear it then, finally. The low rumbling sound of distant thunder. So that’s what running buffalo sounded like, she thought.
Like a thunderstorm at dawn’s first light.
* * *
ROON KNEW HE had to get close to the cabin porch in order for the air rifle to be effective. He couldn’t shoot from a hundred yards. He left his horse back in the woods and crept toward the edge of the mountain stream, searching for something to hide behind that would give him an unobstructed view of the cabin door. He found the perfect spot, a tree that had fallen half into the creek at an angle, and he hunkered down behind the big trunk and began laying the medicated darts in a row on the ground within easy reach. He’d have to reload quickly, and his aim would need to be true. He wouldn’t get a second chance. He’d tranquilized half a dozen buffalo and longhorn steers for Jessie over the past year while helping her with the vet work, but shooting a man with a tranquilizer dart would be a first for him.
When Molly had been brought to the ranch after being rescued, he’d eavesdropped on the conversations in the kitchen and learned there were four gunmen in the chopper—Marconi and three of his goons. He knew the chopper pilot wasn’t one of them because they’d hijacked the chopper, so altogether, counting Joe, there were six people crammed inside that little line camp. If the chopper pilot came out and prepared to fire up the chopper, he’d have to tranquilize him, too. That possibility worried Roon, because he wasn’t sure the dose in the darts was safe for humans.
He picked up the rifle, loaded the first dart into the chamber and retrieved his cell phone from his jacket pocket. It was still dark enough that the little screen on his phone seemed alarmingly bright when he typed in his text message to the boys and hit the Send button. Then he tucked the phone back in his pocket, laid the barrel of the air rifle across the top of the log to steady it and drew a deep, slow breath to calm his nerves. The next few minutes would be critical. He heard the first birdsong fill the morning air and the sky to the east began to glow a clear, pale yellow.
Then he heard the buffalo.
* * *
NASH HAD BEEN in some tight spots before but none quite as dire as this. From the moment those four city slickers had hired him for a so-called private tour of Yellowstone, his normally mundane and borderline boring day had been turned upside down, but once airborne there was no turning back. First Nash was ordered to cruise around south of Bozeman, checking out the ranch lands and scenery and paying abnormally close attention to the community of Gallatin Gateway. It seemed like he’d been flying in pointless circles for over an hour before Marconi, in the copilot’s seat, had spotted a distinctive red Mercedes sports coupe leaving Gallatin Gateway and speeding ea
st. He’d let out a victorious whoop, said, “Finally!” then pulled a pistol out of his jacket, aimed it at Nash and said, “Follow that car.”
Not hard to do on the road that headed toward Katy Junction. The Mercedes was the only vehicle on it. Getting around in front of the car had proved a little more difficult because the driver had to be topping ninety miles an hour, but the Helotours chopper was pretty quick, and when Nash set it down in the middle of the road, the driver of the Mercedes had plenty of time to stop. Plenty of time to turn around and speed off again, too, but she didn’t. Only later did Nash learn that Molly Ferguson had thought Ben Comstock was on board the chopper, and maybe her brother Joe and best friend, Dani. That’s why she’d stopped so willingly, gotten out of her car and approached the chopper.
Snatching her was effortless. All Marconi did was jump out, walk a few steps toward her, wave that damned pistol and say, “Molly Ferguson? You better come with us if you want to see your brother alive again.”
Marconi had taken Molly’s cell phone from her, entered her number into his own phone and put Molly’s back inside the red Mercedes. Then he’d gotten back on the helicopter and ordered Nash to find a place to land where he could stake out the car using a pair of the Helotours binoculars. The old line camp at the Bow and Arrow, high on the mountainside, turned out to be the perfect location and the meadow made for a safe landing area. The wait for Molly Ferguson’s abandoned car to be discovered just before dark seemed endless, and Nash was held at gunpoint the entire time. Oddly, they hadn’t searched him. Inside his jeans pocket were his car keys and a small Swiss Army knife.
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