Ride The Wild Range

by Cheryl Pierson

  He took his hat off and wiped the sweat away with his shirtsleeves. I walked over to where Blackie and Arrow stood in the shade, near him. We'd brought provisions, but not many. He took a biscuit out and handed it to me, then bit into one as well.

  "These aren't as good as Laura's," I said with conviction.

  "No," he answered.

  We were hungry, though, so we finished them off.

  "What's the matter?" I asked.

  "Something...I wish we'd crossed to the other side of the creek, but there's no way to keep thirsty animals moving on when they come to water in this kind of heat."

  "Are they...do you think they're here?"

  He gave me a forced smile. "No. But I think we need to get across the creek as quick as we can."

  He called to Trask and Kilmore, and everyone began to mount up again, no questions asked. We rode across the creek a few yards downstream where the water was shallow. The summer had been a hot one and the water was low anyhow, but especially so where we crossed. I looked back at the creek behind me with a sharp pang of regret. Of all things, I'd wanted to take off my boots and wade in that cool running stream like some little kid would do! Of course, a man wouldn't ever do such a thing. A man wouldn't even be thinking of such at a time like this! I turned my face forward, and tried to push the thought of that water out of my mind.

  In the next instant, it fled completely with the sound of Apache war whoops coming from the side of the mountain as they came galloping down toward us like vengeful demons. We urged our horses deeper into the woods as fast as they could go, then dismounted and turned to stand and fight amidst the cover of the trees.

  * * * * *

  Right then, I understood why Jacobi had his doubts about me bein' there with them. And I also saw he regretted letting me stay instead of sending me back home as soon as I'd caught up to him the other day.

  "Get behind me, Will," he said, "and lay low."

  For a minute, I thought he was gonna give me that little shake my own papa used to give me when he wanted to be sure I listened to him. But he didn't. He just gave me a really hard look, and that meant the same thing, I knew.

  He crouched down low behind one of the wide, old oak trees and took careful aim as one of the savages headed our way.

  I had grabbed my own rifle out of my saddle scabbard at the last minute when we dismounted. Now, I held it clutched in my fist like I didn't know what it was for! But, as I started to raise it, Jacobi glanced back at me. His shot had hit squarely in the Apache's chest, throwing the warrior from his horse onto the ground just a few yards from where we squatted down.

  "No, son," he said quickly. "Save your lead."

  "But—"

  "No argument, Will." He turned back around, giving his full attention to the next wave of Apaches. They came swooping down off the mountainside and rode right at us, with no amount of caution.

  We outnumbered them by at least ten men, but they didn't let that stop them. It made me feel kind of odd in my chest. They were brave. They knew they were going to die, but they came right on after us, anyway. I didn't like thinking about our enemy, the Apache, being any kind of anything good. And I didn't like looking into their eyes and seeing the men they were, one by one. I hadn't thought of it like that when I had been their captive...but somehow, this day was different.

  Then, it was over just about as soon as it had started, or so I thought. But, just as I started to relax in the sudden stillness of the woods, they came at us again. Jacobi had been notching shells into the new Yellowboy repeater he'd bought a couple of months back, and I was beginning to feel a little stupid just sitting there on my knees, holding my weapon. Our horses had run farther on into the woods, but I knew they wouldn't go far. To tell the truth, I was glad they had gotten out of harm's way, and hoping they'd managed to stay safe.

  Just as I started to stand up behind Jacobi, the Apaches came riding in. He threw a quick, staying hand back behind him, pushing me back to the ground again as he turned to raise the Yellowboy and take aim at the Indians who were bearing down on us.

  One of them was a familiar, painted face. Laughing Wind.

  I saw the very instant he recognized Jacobi. A killin' light came into his black eyes and he urged the horse forward even faster, though there was no room for the animal at that speed in the thick part of the woods where we had made our stand.

  Still, the murderous gleam in his eyes took hold of him, making him take chances maybe he wouldn't've took otherwise.

  In the next second, he'd flung himself off his horse and was running toward Jacobi. Jacobi pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. The rifle had jammed! He threw it aside with barely enough time to meet Laughing Wind's rough grip and they fell to the forest floor, grappling and struggling to get a better hold on one another.

  They rolled and tumbled, until Jacobi sat atop the Indian, punching him solidly in the nose. Jacobi's next punch hit Laughing Wind's right eye, and he let go a harsh grunt of pain.

  As if that blow pushed him into action somehow, he gave Jacobi a mighty shove and they tumbled again until, once more, they stopped. But this time, Laughing Wind had the upper hand.

  "Jacobi!" My unintended cry split the air around us, drowning out every other sound. It was a mistake I should not have made. It would draw Jacobi's attention away from the business at hand...might even get him killed.

  I froze. I thought about the gun in my hand. I thought about the last time we'd been in this same situation, how I'd taken that desperate shot and made it. Maybe luck would be with me again. And maybe it wouldn't.

  But, in that next moment, the decision was ripped from me as Laughing Wind reached to his side to draw his tomahawk. As if by magic, Jacobi's knife somehow appeared in his hand. He lunged upward and buried his blade into Laughing Wind's gut, just below his ribs. Then, he twisted upward. Laughing Wind let go an ungodly scream and fell to one side in a limp, bloody heap.

  Jacobi gave a hard push, heaving him over to the ground completely. He rolled to his side and stood right over Laughing Wind, knowing somehow he wasn't quite dead yet.

  The breath came out of me in a rush. I jumped up and ran to stand beside him. He put his arm around me, almost like he needed something to keep him steady. There was blood on his hands, but it didn't matter. We were together, and we were alive.

  Laughing Wind turned to look at me, and there was surprise in his eyes as they met mine.

  "Warrior Boy...and your protector demon." His gaze went back to Jacobi, who stood completely still, tensed and ready, if the Indian should somehow find the strength to go another round.

  I knew that wasn't likely, what with Jacobi's knife sticking out of his gut like it was.

  "Die, you son of a bitch," Jacobi murmured.

  "You have...killed me."

  Jacobi gave a slow nod.

  Laughing Wind smiled, and the defiance left his face as it twisted into a mask of pure evil.

  "Just as I ...killed your...woman. Your boy and girl—"

  He didn't get a chance to finish. Jacobi's foot shot out, the toe of his leather moccasin landing under Laughing Wind's neck, his weight shifting like lightning to land squarely on his throat, crushing it. The Apache gave a sharp grunt, and then lay still and quiet.

  I guess I was as surprised as ol' Laughing Wind. I didn't say anything either, just watched as Jacobi stood looking down at him.

  The fighting was all done. All around us, the other men called to one another, but Jacobi just stood over Laughing Wind, not saying a word. To tell the truth, it was kind of spooking me a little.

  I took a step nearer to him, real slow and easy, kind of like I would do to one of our rank horses we were trying to saddle break.

  "I promised you, Deborah," he whispered. "It's done now. I did what I said I'd do."

  Deborah. I knew from before when we'd talked that she was Jacobi's first wife. The one Red Eagle and Laughing Wind had murdered, along with their son, Dalton, and daughter, Becky.

  I
let him have another minute, all the while looking around to keep us safe. He was in another place right now, a memory I had no part in. I had already thought on Mama, Papa, and Lisbeth so much after I killed Red Eagle that I just didn't have anything left in me. But, Jacobi did, and I knew he was letting go of the last of all of it, now that he had kept his promise.

  Papa always said a man's most important bond was his word. If you couldn't trust a man's word, you could never count on him for anything. I knew Jacobi felt the same way. It was then I realized how hard it had been for him to go on about his life with me and Laura for the past several months, still knowin' he had this to finish in order to keep his word to Deborah.

  Now, he had done it, and the relief of it made him slump for a moment, then straighten, as the weight left him.

  "Will."

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Can you – would you go find the horses, son?"

  I nodded, but he wasn't looking at me. I turned away. His voice sounded unsteady, but that was probably because of the fight he and Laughing Wind just had. I wouldn't be gone long. I knew Arrow and Blackie would stick together, kinda like me and Jacobi.

  * * * * *

  We rode back to Fort Sill and spent the night there. General Durham had a big celebration dinner for us, and I ate until I couldn't take another bite.

  We slept out under the stars again, within the safety of the fort walls, and that was about one of the finest nights of sleep I'd ever had. Contentment seemed to just settle into me as I was about to drift off.

  It had been a hard day, but the ending had been good. We'd lost two of our posse, but we'd killed a lot more Apaches than that. We'd buried our dead here in the fort cemetery, and then we'd gone on with the living.

  For some reason, it pleased me more than anything that Jacobi had been right about where to track the Apaches. Ol' Marshal Eddington didn't know beans about it. Jacobi sure had a lot of smarts about Indians – for a white man. Up until today, I'd never given much thought to the fact he usually wore leather moccasins like what the Indians wore. But I'd overheard one of Kilmore's men comment to another that the reason Jacobi was such a good tracker was because he was 'one of them'.

  At the time I'd heard it, I'd wanted to say, "No, he ain't. He's one of us!" But I didn't, on account of it wasn't a conversation I was supposed to be hearing. And eavesdropping was rude, Mama always said.

  It didn't mean I wasn't thinking on it, though, because it was one of those things that, once you hear it, you can't forget it. Jacobi did know a lot about Indian ways, and tracking. And he did wear moccasins. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered.

  But I didn't ask, because right then, I was too busy feeling good about our day and the fact that we were both still living at the end of it. I had me a full stomach and I'd done a man's job. And another good thing was, I hadn't had anybody tellin' me I needed a bath now in over a week. Yes, I was feeling pretty darn good about everything. But I could tell from the way Jacobi lay all quiet and thoughtful that he was just wanting to get back home to Laura.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, we started back through the territory I was now becoming very familiar with. I could tell Jacobi was having to hold back to keep from pushing homeward too hard. I started noticing something else. I guess I got to thinking about it all after I heard Kilmore's deputies talking about Jacobi.

  I started to see how the other men treated Jacobi in a different way. Before I heard that remark the day before, I might not have thought anything about it. They needed Jacobi, and they needed him badly. In spite of the fact that several of them rode this territory and knew it pretty well, they still felt like they needed Jacobi to be able to find Laughing Wind.

  And they had been right.

  Now, I began to see that though they'd been successful because of him, they felt resentful for the same reason. Nothing they came right out and said, but it was in their eyes when they looked our way. And it was in the turn of their lips that became more of a snarl than a smile.

  I didn't ask about it, because I knew there would be plenty of time later, when it was just the two of us. Trask and Kelly, along with their men, wouldn't be crossing back over the river with us, after all. Once we reached Boggy Creek, I knew Kilmore and his men would head west to Weatherford. But for now, I just rode along beside Jacobi and watched the others, the questions twisting in my mind like dust in a whirlwind.

  Jacobi smiled real easy at me, but I could tell he was noticing the little things too, by the way his jaw was set, and the hard light in his eyes.

  We'd ridden far enough to stop for lunch by the time we reached Comanche Creek. The sun was nearly intolerable, and we had to rest our horses. But, to tell the truth, as much as we needed to get back home, I wished we could've just made our camp right there and spent the rest of that day in the water gettin' cooled off.

  I noticed Jacobi led me over a ways apart from the others for us to water our horses, and I decided he had somethin' private he wanted to say to me.

  We sat down in the shade near the creek bank, letting the horses drink. He handed me a piece of jerky and some hard tack. I was ready to eat, even though we'd had a good breakfast at the fort before we'd left that morning. I bit into the jerky and waited. It was plain Jacobi had somethin' on his mind.

  "Will, what's botherin' you? You still shaken up over that fight yesterday?"

  "No, sir." I'd thought about it plenty last night, but I hadn't really thought I was 'shaken up', as he'd said. I sure as heck wasn't scared, except for when ol' Laughing Wind had come riding toward Jacobi. I knew right then one of 'em was gonna wind up dead, and I knew it wasn't gonna be Jacobi. If I had to, I'd make short work of Laughing Wind same as I had Red Eagle. And I wouldn't hesitate, this time.

  "I thought you seemed kind of quiet today. You feelin' okay, son?"

  "I feel fine." I took a drink of cool water we'd just filled our canteens with. "I'm just ready to get home."

  Jacobi gave me a steady look. "There's more to it, though, isn't there?" I heaved a sigh. There wasn't any use in trying to keep anything from Jacobi. He was like some kind of fortune teller, or something.

  "Jacobi, yesterday, I heard one of Sheriff Kilmore's men say somethin' about you."

  "What was it?"

  Jacobi kept right on eating, like nothin' in the world could've bothered him. Maybe what I had to tell him was somethin' he wouldn't give two whoops in Hades about.

  "One of 'em said you were Injun."

  Right then, he looked at me with a funny kind of look I hadn't ever seen before.

  "Which one?" Another bite of the hardtack.

  "That one in the creek over yonder." I nodded my head in the general direction of Eddington's former deputy, now Kilmore's. Deputy Alan Richards. He sat with his boots and socks off, soaking his feet and ankles in the cooling water.

  "Richards," he said quietly. Jacobi watched him for a moment, then took a drink. "What did he say?"

  "He and Deputy Johnson were talkin' about how good a tracker you are. And Deputy Richards said it was on account of you bein' one of 'them'."

  "Huh." He stood up and stretched his back muscles, acting all unconcerned.

  "It...kinda made me wonder...the way he said it..."

  "You're smart to wonder."

  "They're on our side, aren't they?"

  Jacobi smiled. "Another thing to wonder about, huh?"

  It was then I realized that what I'd said about my 'wondering' could have been taken more than one way. But I knew he understood the direction my thoughts had gone. I could tell he was proud of me. Not by anything he said, but by the warm look in his eyes.

  "Remember where we were during the fighting?" His question wasn't idle. It was meant to make me think about why we'd been in the place we'd taken to stand and fight. How could I forget where we'd stood? I'd wondered, at the time, why we hadn't stayed packed in closer with the others, but had gone for a position to the right of the center. Yet, I'd noticed Trask had ridden
to the far left.

  "There was no one behind us," I murmured.

  Jacobi reached to tousle my hair. He looked away, his eyes casually scanning the others. "That's right. See where we are now?"

  Apart. Separate. I understood.

  "Yes." When I raised my eyes to his, he was watching me intently. He nodded.

  "Remember, Will, don't let another man behind you if you can help it. Even those you think you ought to be able to trust. It doesn't always work out that you can."

  "What about Marshal Trask?"

  He nodded. "Trask and Kelly are good men. Most all these fellows we're riding with are. But, I'm just telling you, trust only goes so far, and sometimes a man will do things for money or glory that you'd never dream he'd be capable of otherwise."

  "Was that why you didn't leave me at the fort, when Captain Stockton talked about it?"

  Jacobi smiled and hesitated a minute before he answered me. "Partly, I guess it was. I don't trust anybody to look after you the way I will. You're safest with me, wherever that happens to be."

  I knew that was true, but it surprised me when he went on.

  "The other part is, I depend on you now too. There's no one else I'd rather have with me than you, son."

  That brought a new shine into my whole world when he said that. Jacobi wasn't usually one for talking about feelings and stuff, but the way he said it was easy-like, as if it was natural. So, I knew he'd thought about it an awful lot.

  We were partners for sure now. And there wasn't anything that could have made me happier.

  Chapter 24

  We rode on for the next two days just like before, the heat rising up as if to bake us alive. We made more stops to rest ourselves and our horses, and I noticed Jacobi seemed concerned about me. It wasn't anything he said, but more the way he'd lay a hand on my shoulder or make sure I had plenty of jerky and hardtack, which I was heartily sick of.