Red River Rifles (Wilderness Dawning—the Texas Wyllie Brothers Series Book 1)

by Dorothy Wiley

  “Kuukuh, I am Stephen Wyllie, father of Samuel and Thomas.” He pointed to each of them. “And these are our friends, Baldy Grant, and Old Bill Williams. We would be pleased if you would join us tomorrow for the wedding of Louisa and Samuel.”

  The brave gave them a slight smile. “Kuukuh thanks you, Wyllie. But the storm god sends me to someone else now. I must go to them.”

  Samuel had no doubt that God, the God of all men and all places, had sent this man to help Louisa. He would be forever grateful.

  Baldy dismounted and went to Louisa. He took hold of her hands and touched her face and forehead. “We must get Louisa somewhere warm. And the sooner the better. She’s half frozen. I don’t want her to grow ill on the eve of her wedding.”

  “I am cold to my bones. And I could certainly use a hot bath,” she said. Her voice sounded weak and tired. “I’ve got an acre’s worth of mud on me. But I have to show you where my father’s body is first.”

  “I show them,” Kuukuh told her. “You go. Sit by fire.”

  “But I thought you had to go help someone,” Louisa said.

  Kuukuh nodded. “Soon.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I would like to get back and check on my brother.”

  He smiled at Louisa and then turned his magnificent mount around.

  “I’ll take Louisa back,” Thomas volunteered.

  “And I’ll go back with Old Bill,” his father said. “We have to find Adam and then we have a fat turkey to pluck for your wedding feast tomorrow. I’m sorry we have to delay the wedding a day, Louisa, but this time tomorrow, you will be Mrs. Samuel Wyllie.”

  Louisa gave Samuel a broad smile and relief filled him as he tugged her shoulders to his side and hugged her. He hated to admit how terribly frightened he had been when he learned of her disappearance. It had felt as if someone had thrown water on the fire inside him, leaving nothing but dampened ash.

  Baldy placed a comforting hand on Louisa’s shoulder. “If you have no objection since foul weather threatens and it’s getting late, Samuel and I will just bury your father where he is stretched out on the earth. I will say a few words and ask God to not punish him too harshly for the ill-treatment he doled out on you and Adam.”

  Louisa stared at Baldy a moment. Would she want her father punished? If she did, Samuel wouldn’t blame her one bit. For whatever a man sows, this he should also reap. And Pate had sown nothing but grief in Louisa’s and Adam’s lives.

  Finally, she said, “Yes, bury him there. It’s a beautiful spot in the forest. Thank you.”

  “Samuel, I have a folding shovel in my saddlebag you can use,” Thomas said.

  “I have one too,” Samuel said. “Baldy can use yours.”

  While Baldy and Louisa talked, Samuel got the shovel from Thomas and then withdrew the clothing he’d bought at the trading post from his saddlebag. He handed the package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine, to Thomas. “I bought these for Louisa and Adam. Give it to Melly and tell her to open it while Louisa bathes. She’ll know what to do with it.”

  “Sure will.”

  Samuel shoved his second package, containing the whiskey and wine, into the other side of Thomas’ saddlebag. “And make sure this wine is saved for the wedding feast.”

  Thomas grinned widely. “Glad I’m old enough to drink now.”

  “Can you put one bottle—unopened mind you—and a couple of Melly’s special occasion glasses up in the shed’s upstairs room?” He didn’t think Louisa was going to be a jittery bride, but if she was, the wine would help her to relax. Truthfully, it would help them both to relax.

  “You bet,” Thomas said with a knowing smile and a wink. “Getting married can make a man thirsty.” Thomas removed his sturdy leather coat and handed it to Samuel. “Since you put your coat on Louisa, you may need this.”

  Samuel donned the coat and stepped back over to Louisa. Even though she was clearly exhausted and freezing, her face held a stalwart strength and her eyes reflected a new sereneness.

  “Is there anything else you’d like me to say before we commit your father’s body to God?” Baldy was asking Louisa.

  “No. But please say a prayer for my mother and Adam’s mother. They suffered at my father’s hand too, and maybe even died.”

  “I believe they may have,” Baldy agreed as though she’d already discussed the deaths of the two mothers with him.

  Samuel exhaled. If Pate had murdered them, it was one more example of the man’s capacity for cruelty. Perhaps now, with her father gone, Louisa could find the happiness she deserved. He wanted no more sorrow to plague her life.

  He prayed Adam would be there by the time she got back.

  Chapter 21

  After Louisa left for the cabins with Thomas, Old Bill, and his father, Samuel finally focused on Kuukuh. He owed the man so much and he regarded the brave with a mixture of gratitude and awe.

  The Indian’s appearance astonished him. Kuukuh was the most magnificent Indian he’d ever seen. Drops of moisture beaded on the brave’s proud face and the bronze skin of his exposed chest. His body conveyed power and youthful strength. Yet his strong, striking features and dark eyes expressed wisdom beyond his years.

  As soon as Samuel and Baldy mounted up, Kuukuh turned his stallion. With Baldy riding beside him, Samuel rode behind Kuukuh as the three of them left to find the body of Louisa’s father. The brave kept his mount at a reasonable trot as they splashed through standing water and trudged through the mud. The unique earthy scent of a forest after a hard rain filled the air while moisture dripped from every tree and bush and little rivulets trickled along the ground.

  He couldn’t believe Pate was dead. He was ashamed to admit how relieved he was. Now the man couldn’t force Louisa to marry against her will. Without having to defy her father, she was free to marry Samuel. And, the man couldn’t hurt Adam or Louisa ever again. That pleased him just as much if not more. He was certain Pate was now facing the wrath of God for the Good Book is clear—fathers should not provoke their children to anger.

  After about an hour, they arrived at the spot. Mr. Pate’s long body was stretched out in the dead center of a clearing in a puddle of brown rainwater. Pain carved the merciless lines of the man’s face. A large splotch of blood covered his chest. How had Louisa reacted to the grizzly sight?

  He glanced around wondering where Pate’s mount was. The horse was nowhere to be seen. “Pate’s horse must have chased after Long’s horse.”

  Kuukuh nodded his agreement.

  High in the sky, a few buzzards began circling overhead. It wouldn’t be long before other predators smelled death.

  Kuukuh turned around and regarded Samuel, his face wholly serious. He pointed to Pate. “He was not good man. You be good man for Louisa.” It was a command, not a request.

  Samuel nodded and placed a hand over his heart. “I promise I will be.”

  “And I will be a good friend to her,” Baldy said.

  Kuukuh sat there and studied their faces with a stare that spoke clearly. Then he nodded, turned his beautiful horse, and rode away.

  When Samuel had buried his friend, Billy, he’d also buried his youthful, idealistic opinion of the nobility of Indians. The harsh reality of the West and hatred made anger toward all Indians burn in his chest. Until today. Now, Kuukuh made him remember, once again, that there are good and bad in every tribe. He silently thanked Kuukuh for reminding him.

  He glanced over at Baldy whose eyes were widened.

  “They say God works in mysterious ways. I think something extraordinary happened here with Kuukuh.”

  “I’d have to agree,” Samuel said, as he watched the brave ride away for a few moments. He removed his hat and stored it in his saddle bag. “I know Louisa and Adam will be better off without their father in their lives. If Kuukuh hadn’t shown up when he did, Louisa would have been compromised by Long and forced into marrying him later. I would have…”

  “Killed Long,” Baldy finished.

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nbsp; The thought made him angry and Samuel shoved the spade into the wet earth.

  “You dig for a while and then I’ll dig,” Baldy said.

  “I can do it all. We’ve had so much rain, the digging should be easy enough,” Samuel said. “While I dig, you can figure out what you’re going to say about Pate. Good luck with that, by the way.”

  Baldy raised his brows and nodded. “As Voltaire said, ‘To the dead, we owe only the truth.’" He retrieved his Bible and began studying it.

  Samuel suspected it wouldn’t be easy to conduct a funeral service for a man they both considered despicable. A man whose honor had faded to gray. A man whose heart was riddled with the black of pure meanness.

  A cool mist fell from the leaden sky as he dug. Fearing another storm, Samuel hurried and soon, the grave was deep enough to keep predators from digging it up. “I guess we should search him?”

  “Yes. He may have something on him that Louisa would want.”

  He searched Pate’s pockets and found only a few coins that he would return to Louisa. He also kept the man’s pistol.

  “Ready?” Baldy asked.

  “More than ready,” Samuel said.

  They each bent to take hold of the body but froze with Pate’s head and legs just off the ground.

  From the tree line, they heard a low, deep growl. A moment later, a nerve-wracking shriek that sounded like a woman screaming for her life ripped through the air.

  Samson’s head lifted and his ears pinned back.

  “Whoa, boy, whoa,” Samuel said, quickly dropping Pate and grasping the horse’s reins. He snatched his rifle from his saddle, tied Samson’s reins in a knot, and then gave the horse a smart slap on the hip to send him to safety. He knew Samson wouldn’t go far.

  Baldy’s rifle was on his grazing horse, who had already moved some distance away, so the doctor withdrew his pistol.

  “There it is!” Samuel said and pointed.

  Narrow, yellow eyes scrutinized them from the darkness of the woods. After a few seconds, a cougar took a cautious step forward. Then another step. It was coming for them.

  When the cougar decided to attack, he and Baldy could both be in serious danger. A cougar’s strength and powerful jaws allow it to take down prey far larger than itself. And this monster appeared to be a huge male, based on the length of his body. His broad white chest stood out against the tawny color of his fur.

  The animal’s smoldering eyes fixed only on Samuel, perhaps because he was the first one to make eye contact with the cougar. Or perhaps because he was the larger of the two men. With an unnerving, burning gaze, the big cat stared directly at him with a look of pure contempt.

  Despite his racing heart, Samuel glared back with a lethal fierceness. Cougar attacks on people were rare but usually deadly. He wouldn’t let this be one of those times. When his aggressive glower didn’t work, he yelled loudly, and waved his rifle and arms, hoping to scare the animal off.

  Baldy did the same.

  Unimpressed with their antics, the cougar snarled angrily. Obviously unhappy that they were disturbing his supper, the beast opened his jaws wide and growled.

  Samuel knew he was about to fight for his life. Without flinching, he stood his ground. The muscles of his arms and back hardened. He would have to fight—man against the pure, savage wildness of the frontier.

  “Save your shot in case I miss,” he told Baldy.

  With a sudden explosive burst of speed, the cougar ran toward them, a powerful and beautiful embodiment of nature’s strength.

  Samuel tucked his rifle butt into his shoulder, lined up his sights, and fired at the charging monster. The lead ball grazed the cougar’s head and seemed to affect him no more than if a bee had bitten him.

  In the next instant, the mountain lion bounded a dozen feet, and knocked him to the ground.

  The impact and the animal’s wild scent took Samuel’s breath away, but he’d managed to hold on to his longrifle. Gripping the length of the rifle with both hands, he used the weapon to protect his face and head from the cougar’s massive paws. After his hands took several bad scratches, he hit the beast violently with the butt of his rifle. Then he tried to repeatedly shove the rifle’s end into the animal’s neck.

  The cougar soon had enough of that and the brute swatted the rifle out of Samuel’s sweaty hands.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Baldy nearby trying to get a clear shot. But Samuel and the cougar were wrestling violently as he tried his best to strangle the animal. Samuel knew Baldy wouldn’t take the shot for fear of hitting him instead of the creature.

  Rays of burning light darted from the cougar’s bloodcurdling eyes as the beast growled and clawed at him, ripping Thomas’ coat to shreds.

  The cougar’s neck was just too big, and Samuel gave up on trying to strangle it. He used his arms to protect his face, rolled to the side, and kicked at the animal with his boots. The second he had a chance, Samuel drew his big knife, the only weapon useful in fighting something at close quarters.

  The cougar’s mouth fastened onto his left forearm. Fortunately, he held the knife with his right hand. He felt the fangs begin to pierce his skin and plunged the knife at the cougar’s right side. It felt like he hit bone. The fiend let go of his arm and Samuel withdrew his blade from the animal.

  The cougar took a step back. The wound only made the beast limp a little.

  He had to get to his feet. On his back, his neck was too vulnerable. He tried to stand but lost his footing on the slippery mud-covered earth.

  The cougar’s angry growls escalated as he wheeled about. Lunging from his powerful legs, the wild brute came at him again.

  This time, Samuel aimed his blade for the fiend’s eyes but hit his nose instead which only caused the animal to roar a cougar curse into Samuel’s face.

  The cougar stood over him a moment, gnashing his teeth, and rubbing his foreleg over his bloodied nose. Hissing with anger, the big cat’s big head came up and he looked over at Baldy. The beast’s eyes narrowed and his lips lifted, exposing vicious looking fangs. Now it wasn’t just a huge beast. It was an angry huge beast.

  It took a step toward Baldy.

  When the cougar did, Samuel managed to scramble up and took a few steps back. He thought about sheathing the knife and drawing his pistol, but with only one shot, if he missed or just wounded the animal, he would be defenseless.

  Baldy took aim. Only a shot between the eyes would stop an animal this powerful.

  “You don’t want him. He’s old and tough.” Samuel waved the blade of his knife, brandishing it through the air to get the giant’s attention.

  The cougar changed direction and bounded toward him again.

  “Watch out,” Baldy cried.

  Instinctively, Samuel shrank back. He took another step backward, tripped on Pate’s body, and found himself toppling into the grave. As he hit the earth, he wondered if Pate’s ghost had tripped him. He wouldn’t put it past the foul man.

  Instantly, the lion leapt upon him. The force knocked the breath out of him again. Samuel felt a claw rip into his ear and then hot blood run down the side of his neck.

  The snarling cougar was a blur of violent motion, twisting and writhing above him. It was no wonder Baldy couldn’t take a safe shot.

  Growling, the animal seized Samuel’s right thigh between his jaw. Fortunately, he’d worn his buckskin breeches, far tougher than cloth. But the cougar’s razor-sharp teeth would soon penetrate the leather.

  Samuel raised his upper body and with a desperate plunge, sunk the knife in the cougar’s shoulder. This time the blade entered up to the hilt.

  The cougar flinched and squealed in pain, but still the creature wouldn’t let go of its hold on him.

  Samuel heard buckskin rip. His leg was about to be lacerated.

  Baldy leaned down and positioned his pistol close to the cougar’s head and away from Samuel. The deafening report of the pistol, fired at close range, rang out.

  The cougar�
�s jaw released Samuel’s thigh and the enormous creature collapsed on top of him. It was bad enough being in a grave, but the hundred and fifty pounds of a monstrous cougar on top of him felt crushing. Samuel summoned all his strength and pushed the cougar off of him while Baldy heaved it out by the tail.

  Breathing hard, he sat up and rested his arms on the sides of the grave. “Good God.”

  “Sorry I took so long to shoot,” Baldy said. “Only a head shot would kill him and I had to wait till you were clear of that beast. Didn’t want the lead to pass through him and into you. And I thought you’d killed him with your knife. Twice!”

  “The bloody brute wouldn’t die!”

  “When he got ahold of your thigh, I couldn’t wait any longer. There are major veins in the leg and severing one can be lethal. Are you all right?” He offered Samuel a hand. “Let me look at you.”

  Gasping for breath, Samuel gripped Baldy’s hand, stood on shaky legs, and stepped out of the grave. “I’m fine, but I never want to do that again.” He brushed most of the muddy earth off, took a few steps, and collapsed to the ground again while he recovered his breath.

  Baldy took one quick look at him and then tugged a folded white handkerchief from his waistcoat. “Here, hold this against your ear. Apply as much pressure as you can tolerate.”

  Samuel took the cloth, wiped some of the blood from his neck, and then winced as he pressed it to his ear. Abrasions covered his arms and his legs bled from several scratches. Otherwise, he felt all right, although he was still shaken.

  “That cougar must have been drawn to the scent of Pate’s blood. He’d claimed the body as his and went for a nap in the woods. When he saw us with it, he returned to defend his prize,” Baldy said.

  Samuel gazed over at the cougar. “Indeed. He fought well. I hated to kill such a magnificent animal, but it couldn’t be helped.”

  Baldy nodded. “We had no choice. It was him or us. Since I only had one pistol shot, I had to wait until I had a shot that would kill him. Let me have a good look at you.”

  “That scream he let out at first was something,” Samuel said. “Like a woman shrieking.”