by Sharon Sala
***
Emory stood on the edge of a dry land plateau, looking into the setting sun and knowing the tiny trail of dust about a half day’s ride behind him meant death—probably his. He wasn’t in the mood to die for something as inconsequential as screwing a squaw, even though the female hadn’t been his. But his moods were of no consequence to Black Dog, who seemed determined to make Emory pay. Emory was out of options and had to make a decision.
He knew if he kept going southwest, he would ride straight into Apache territory and Black Dog’s people. He couldn’t go back without running into the man, himself, and he was in no mood to face a man out for nothing more serious than using his woman. This left him with only one option.
Cursing the weakness that had gotten him into this trouble, he turned, squinting slightly as he looked toward the jagged skyline of the Rockies and knew the distance was deceiving. It would take days to even reach the foothills. He had no supplies for such a long trek and little hope for surviving, even if he managed to lose Black Dog in the process. Yet it was this way or no way.
With a long sigh and a short curse, he mounted his horse and took the short trail down off the plateau, aiming for the far, blue mountains.
***
Letty didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but sometime during the past eight days she and Eulis had spent on the trail, she’d lost her fear of everything, including dying. It all started as they were making camp the first night out of Dripping Springs. After taking the team of mules down to the creek bank to drink, Eulis brought them back up to the campsite, hobbled them so they could graze for a bit, and began loading his rifle as Letty dug through the wagon for their cook pot.
“There’s a good number of elms and willows along this creek. I reckon I might be able to shoot us a squirrel or a rabbit for supper.”
“I’ll get wood,” Letty said.
“Watch out for skunks,” Eulis said, and then grinned and dodged when Letty chunked a small rock at his head.
He shouldered his rifle and headed into the woods as Letty began picking up deadwood. She gathered an armful and dumped it near the wagon, took a drink from her canteen, then went back for more. It would be a long night and a fire kept all manner of less than desirable critters at bay. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the hem of her skirt and then paused a moment to survey the area before going back to gather more wood.
The lay of the land was deceiving. The hills were hardly more than intermittent mounds and the valleys between were shallow, giving a viewer the impression that the land was nearly flat. But in truth, there was plenty of room for a man on horseback to be hidden from the human eye until he topped one of those small hills. Even though the knowledge made her nervous, she saw nothing of which to be concerned. With a heartfelt sigh and the thought of hot stew later, she resumed foraging for firewood.
On her third trip back to camp, the largest mule, a big black that Eulis called Rosy, began following Letty back to the wagon, knowing that there was a bag of oats to be had. Letty could feel the heat of the mule’s breath as it hobbled along behind her, and even though she felt no threat, she couldn’t help but walk a little faster.
She got to camp and quickly built the fire, taking time twice to stop and shoo Rosy away from the wagon. About that time, Eulis walked into camp with a skinned squirrel on a stick.
“Lookee here! It’s squirrel stew tonight.”
“Good, I’m starving,” Letty said. “I’ve got the water already on boil.”
Eulis squatted down beside the pot. Without wasted motion, he hacked the squirrel into chunks, tossed a little salt into the pot and then pulled a handful of wild onions from his pocket and added them to the water.
“Wild onions,” he said, pointing to the small greens. “It’ll give it a little extra flavor, I reckon.”
Letty gave the stew a quick stir and then laid the spoon on a nearby rock as she stood. When she did, she noticed the mule was back at the wagon.
“Dang it, Eulis. You fed that mule some oats the other day and it’s turned into one big pest.” Then she waved her hands at the mule. “Shoo! Shoo! Get on with you!” she yelled.
Before she knew what was happening, the mule let out a squeal and began stomping in the dirt. Letty let out a squeal of her own and ran backward just as Eulis grabbed the mule’s ear.
“Here, now,” he said, trying to gentle it, then happened to look down. “Whoa!” he yelled, grabbed the mule and moved them both back. “Letty! Look at that! No wonder Rosy was doin’ all that stompin’. You nearly stepped on a rattler.”
Letty gasped. Eulis was right. There between the front and back wheels of the wagon was what was left of a fat brown diamond-back. She could see at least ten or twelve rattles on it and knew if the mule hadn’t reacted as she had, the rattler would have struck her dead.
“Oh lord, oh lord,” Letty said, and without thinking, walked backward then stumbled. She felt the heat, even as she was falling, and knew she was falling in the fire. In a panic, she twisted, hitting the ground hard and numbing her elbow on a rock. For a moment, she couldn’t move, and by the time she did, her skirt was on fire.
“Have mercy! Save me! I’m on fire!” Letty screamed and started scrambling, trying to get up.
Eulis raised up from beneath the wagon where he’d been removing the snake, and for a moment, was too startled to move. Then he saw the flames running up the hem of her skirt and bolted.
It was a gut reaction that made him grab for the stew pot hanging over the fire. It was full of hot water, skinned squirrel, and wild onions, and he tossed it at her backside. It dampened the flames, but the fabric was still smoldering. At that point, Eulis began kicking dirt on Letty, most of which landed in her face instead of on her skirt.
“Eulis! No… don’t… wait… let me… am I still—”
“Smokin’? Not much. Just hold still though while I make sure your bloomers ain’t burnin’.”
Letty gasped, and then choked as more dust went up her nose. Eulis bent down, swiped another handful of dirt onto what was left of her skirt, then began beating at it with the palm of his hand.
Nervousness added more power to his swat than he meant and his third thump brought tears to Letty’s eyes.
“Oow,” she yelped. “That hurt.”
“Sorry,” Eulis said. “I think the fire is out, but you still got yourself a problem.”
Letty stood up and started unbuttoning her skirt.
“No need to do that,” Eulis said.
“Why not?” Letty asked.
“Cause there ain’t nothin’ left of your skirt but what’s in front.”
Letty grabbed at her backside, felt nothing but bloomers and groaned.
“Oh no! Oh lord! It’s gone! My last dress! Skunked up the first one. Burned up the last.”
She stared at Eulis, as if waiting for him to say it was a mistake, but he was already abdicating the job of savior and vacating the premises.
“Eulis! Damn it! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Huntin’,” he muttered.
“Hunting? I nearly died and you’re going hunting?”
“Yes. For some more supper. I throwed that first squirrel on your butt.” He pointed at the graying lumps of meat that lay scattered in the dirt and ashes. “Reckon I’ll go shoot us another one before it gets too dark to see.”
“But, Eulis, I—”
“Look, Letty! You didn’t even know there was a rattlesnake at your feet till the durn thing was dead. Yes, you set yourself on fire, but it’s out. You didn’t die. You didn’t even get burned much. The world didn’t stop. I’m still hungry and all you’re missing is a skirt, so I’m gonna go get us another squirrel.”
He stomped off, leaving Letty to think about what he’d just said. It was after she’d taken off her skirt and given it a good look that she had to admit he was right. So she wasn’t the best at roughing it anymore. Somewhere between the age of twelve, when she’d had to learn to survive wi
thout parents and now, she’d lost her edge. She’d gotten soft, accustomed to having nightly baths and someone cooking her food—wearing soft clothes and sleeping in a clean bed. She looked up at the darkening sky and sighed. If anyone had asked, she would have said she preferred sleeping with a roof over her head.
Then she gave herself a mental kick in the butt, tossed what was left of her skirt in the back of the wagon and started digging through their meager belongings. It didn’t take her long to realize that the only person left with extra clothing was Eulis. She dug through his pack until she found the smallest pair of pants he owned, and held them up to her waist. They were inches too long and even more inches too big in the waist, but they would cover her bare backside, which was all that mattered. She cut a piece of rope to use for a belt, adjusted it around the waist until it was tight enough to keep the pants up, then rolled up both hems until she could walk without tripping. She frowned at the thin kid shoes she was wearing, and told herself the next time she got a chance, she was going to get herself a pair of men’s boots, too.
Later, as she strode around the campsite, rebuilding the fire and washing up the stew pot to ready it for fresh meat, she began to realize how convenient it was not having a whole swath of skirt tail swishing between her legs and dragging on the ground. A few minutes later, she heard a single gunshot.
“That better be supper, ’cause I can’t take any more surprises,” she muttered, and tossed another stick on the fire to bring the fresh water in the stew pot back up from a simmer to a boil.
When Eulis stomped back into camp he was grinning and holding up a freshly skinned squirrel.
“Got it with one shot!” he crowed, then did a double take when he saw Letty in pants—his pants. “What’s that you’re trying to wear on your legs?”
“I’m not trying, I’m doing it,” she said, took the squirrel, hacked it up into a few large pieces and tossed it in the water.
“Them’s my pants,” Eulis said.
“Not anymore,” Letty said.
Eulis frowned. “It ain’t seemly for a lady to—”
“Oh, shut up, Eulis. I might be redeemed and got myself some religion, but that only means my sins were forgiven. It still doesn’t make a lady out of me. I’m out of dresses and you’ve got pants to spare. I can’t cross the Rockies butt naked.”
Eulis sighed. She had a point, but he still hated to give up those pants. Since he couldn’t complain about her mode of dress, he figured he’d take a shot at her cooking skills since they both knew they were nonexistent.
“Don’t forget to toss in a little salt,” he said, as he pointed to the pot.
Letty nodded and reached behind Eulis’s bedroll for the salt bag. She got a big pinch, tossed it in the pot, and gave it a quick stir.
“I’m going to the bushes,” she said. “Be right back.”
“Watch out for—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Watch out for the skunks.”
Eulis frowned. “Just watch out, all right?”
Letty wiggled her fingers beneath Eulis’s nose and made a face at him.
“I’m watching… you do the same.”
Eulis was watching all right—watching her shapely hips swaying hither and yon as she walked into the trees. It occurred to him to be glad that the only emotions he ever felt towards her were either empathy or fear, because she looked a whole lot better in those pants than he did.
So they cooked the squirrel, ate the meal, and passed the night without concern. The next morning they broke their fast, hitched up the team, and resumed their journey. The days and nights became a collage of heat, hunger, thirst, and misery, interspersed with an occasional moment of realization that they might not live to see the Colorado gold fields after all.
***
Letty couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t been on the trail. Her years of screwing drunken cowboys seemed like it had happened to someone else. She’d lost weight, but was stronger and browner, and she wouldn’t let herself think about the times when’ she’d had plenty to eat and a bath every night.
At the same time, Eulis had sweated away the last of his yearnings for whiskey, become a better shot, and learned to appreciate Letty’s tenacity and her refusal to quit.
The trail they’d been following was vague at best, and most of the time non-existent. They gauged their direction by sunrise, sunset, and the stars at night. They only way they knew for sure they were doing it right, was because the thin blue line of the mountains on the horizon was becoming larger and darker. Danger was with them every mile of the way, sometimes they knew it, sometimes they did not.
On a dark, moonless night when they’d been without water for almost twenty-four hours, they were forced to stop and make dry camp. Their water barrel was empty and the canteens had been empty even longer.
“We need water bad,” Eulis said.
Letty sighed. “Well, don’t look at me. I haven’t had a bath since Sunday, and then it wasn’t a real bath. I just rolled around in that muddy creek and pretended I was clean.”
Eulis frowned. “What day is it now?”
“It’s Thursday… I think.”
“So, what do you think we oughta do?” Eulis asked.
Letty turned and stared toward the mountains. Her gut knotted as she thought about how many days they had yet to go before they even reached the foothills.
“I’d say, first off, we better say our prayers real good tonight before we go to sleep, because if we don’t get ourselves a miracle, we won’t ever have to worry about anything again.”
Eulis sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Letty asked.
“I’m the one who suggested tryin’ out the gold fields.”
“Yeah, well you didn’t hear me begging you not to go, did you?”
“No, I reckon not,” Eulis said.
“Look at it this way. We’re closer than we were the day before, and that’s called progress. So if we’re still making progress, then what more could we ask?”
“Beats me,” Eulis said, and took their bedrolls out of the back of the wagon.
“What are you gonna do?” Letty asked.
“I thought you might want a little privacy while I shake out the bedrolls.”
Letty did a three hundred and sixty degree turn and then gestured wildly around them, to the treeless land and the horizon that went on forever.
“Privacy? Where do you suppose I might find me some of that?”
Eulis frowned. He hated it when she caught him saying something dumb, and this was one of those times. There wasn’t a bush to be had for forty miles, nor a hill to climb, or a ditch in which to squat.
“I suppose you’ll have to use your imagination,” he said.
Letty thumped him up beside his ear.
“Then close your eyes while I go over there and pee and imagine I have a gun up your ass, because one look from you and constipation will be a thing of the past.
Eulis frowned. “All you had to do was say so. I don’t need to be threatened to do the gentlemanly thing, you know.”
Letty stomped off a short distance away, untied the rope around her waist, then glanced over her shoulder to where Eulis was standing. Even though they’d seen each other naked more than once, their relationship was still one to need boundaries. Satisfied that Eulis was looking in another direction, she dropped her pants, and squatted. To be on the safe side, she closed her eyes, reasoning that if she couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t see her.
Night came. They chewed on a piece of jerky, hobbled the mules, and then tied them to the opposite side of the wagon.
“You gonna build a fire?” Letty asked, as Eulis shook out their bedrolls.
“Nothing to burn,” Eulis said.
Letty looked up. The sky was peppered with stars, but she could barely make out Eulis’s shape.
“Sure is dark.”
“Yeah.”
“I think I’ll sleep in the wagon,” Letty said, then crawled u
p into the wagon and shoved some boxes around to make room for her to stretch out.
“I’ll bunk under it,” Eulis added.
A few minutes later, except for the occasional snort from the mules, the prairie was quiet. Letty fell asleep looking up at the sky and listening to Eulis snore. She was dreaming that she was back in Lizard Flats at the White Dove Saloon and some drunken cowboy was breathing hard against her ear.
“Go ’way,” she mumbled, and swatted at the cowboy, but his persistent kisses and snuffles against her ear didn’t stop.
Letty rolled from her right side to her left, but the aggravation continued.
“I’m done for the night,” she mumbled again.
Something pulled at her hair. She reached up and slapped at the cowboy’s face. He snorted. She sat up with a jerk, then gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.
It was daylight, and as far as the eye could see in any direction, both the wagon and the mules they’d tied to it were surrounded by buffalo.
The heat from their bodies was visible, as steam rose from their great wooly humps in the cool morning air. The smell was unlike anything she’d ever known—something dank and musky, coupled with the overpowering scents of fresh urine and manure as they grazed their way past. Every so often an intermittent bellow would sound from out beyond the wagon, at which time a small plume of dust would fill the air, along with the sound of heads butting and calves bawling.
Slowly, so as not to startle the vast sea of beasts, Letty crawled to her knees, and then leaned over the side of the wagon. Even as she was leaning she was praying that Eulis was still there, and not scattered in bits and pieces beneath a million hooves.
She thought she could see the corner of his blanket, and leaned a little farther over, calling softly.
“Eulis… are you there?”
No sound. No answer.
Letty’s throat tightened as fear spiked. She called a little louder.
“Eulis.”
Nothing.
A buffalo cow shoved a young bull out of her way, and in the process knocked Letty’s head against the wagon. The pain was quick and sharp, and she quickly pulled herself upright, and crawled to the middle of the wagon bed, rubbing the ear that had been thumped. Her hands were shaking. She wanted to scream. Instead, she watched in horror as a large bull with a broken horn suddenly bumped the wagon with his head, shoving aside a young calf as if demanding smooth passage.
