Canyon War

by Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer

  Jimmy watched her, head cocked. “What are you making there?"

  “Willow tea. It will help bring Billy’s fever down and relieve the pain.”

  “They teach you that in medical school?"

  "It's an old Indian remedy."

  "How did you learn it?"

  "I know some old Indians."

  After it boiled awhile, Rebekah strained the tea and let it cool before taking a cup into the bedroom. She helped Billy drink all of the liquid, then unwrapped the bandage and applied the aloe vera juice she’d wrung from the leaves to the wound. It looked better from her earlier treatment, but he wasn't out of the woods yet.

  The day wore on into the evening and Rebekah faced the knowledge that she would yet again have an awkward night’s sleep far from her lovely room at the Garland home or a hotel like she expected in Zapata. Mrs. Lowell did lay out a heavy woolen blanket similar to the one she used in the line cabin in the living room, and Rebekah negotiated to have Jimmy allowed to stay in the casita.

  Sam Lowell pulled the curtain of the bedroom closed with a warning look at Rebekah and Jimmy to not try and run off. Rebekah ignored it as she laid down on the floor. At least she could stretch out and not have watch duty over a patient at last. And for the first time in days, she was safe from the Baxters.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mrs. Lowell served Rebekah and Jimmy a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and hot biscuits. It must've been her way of thanking the two for her own son’s appetite and broken fever. Rebekah enjoyed every morsel of the simple affair. Mrs. Lowell also gave Rebekah a dress a size too large, but clean clothing was appreciated, along with a pair of lady’s boots. The Lowells resources were in short supply, especially with the Baxter war.

  Rebekah tended her patient one last time and gave instructions to Mrs. Lowell. The woman offered her a hug before she departed.

  Outside in the morning sunshine, Jimmy waited for Rebekah by their horses. She hadn’t known until breakfast that the Lowell bunch had found the horses, one of them with the Baxter brand, after the flash flood. They were keeping them in a back corral. She imagined they’d planned to keep them permanently, but Sam Lowell seemed to want to do the right thing.

  Lowell stood by her horse, while Jimmy held the reins for both, keeping an eye on the man. Jimmy spoke to Rebekah from the side of his mouth as she approached.

  "Doc, they won't give me my gun back."

  Rebekah narrowed her eyes at Sam Lowell, but he didn't budge. He said, “The boy’s lucky to get out of here alive after riding with the Baxters. His gun will be in Canyon City for him later if he wants it.”

  Rebekah started to demand he give them all their property, but she held back. The man was still grieving from the loss of his brother caused by the Baxters. This was one battle she would let go.

  She gave Jimmy a nod. “Let’s mount up, Jimmy. Our work here is finished.”

  He sighed in resignation and took her bag from her. He tied it to her saddle while Rebekah mounted. She did miss the free ease of wearing trousers, but the skirt was plenty large enough for her to modestly ride astride.

  Sam Lowell stepped back, keeping a wary eye on them.

  "Tell the sheriff in Canyon City what really happened. He wasn’t much interested in hearing our side of it. He's got no love for the Baxters, but none for sheep ranchers either. And…thanks.”

  She settled in the saddle and nodded at Lowell. "I will. And you're welcome."

  She pulled the horse’s head around and gave him a squeeze with her legs to pick up a trot through the Lowell settlement, Jimmy behind her. She glanced up at the guards. They didn't smile or wave farewell. Rebekah was fine with that as long as they weren't shooting at them.

  Once they were through, Rebekah kept up the trot until they were a few hundred yards away from the opening, then pulled up. She turned in the saddle to speak as Jimmy pulled up alongside her.

  “Just Jimmy, it seems we've survived another scrape. Why don't we get on out of this canyon and to town now?"

  Jimmy let out his breath as though he’d been holding it in for hours. He pushed his tan Stetson up to show a puff of his sandy hair.

  "You sure know how to handle yourself, Miss Rebekah.”

  "We make a good team."

  Jimmy grinned. “By golly, we do. Come on. Town’s about 15 miles over the rim of Devil’s Tombstone.”

  Rebekah let her horse follow at Jimmy's at an easy pace. They were both still sore from their rambunctious adventures in the canyon, and taking it easy over the rocky terrain was wise for the horses. They crossed what Jimmy called Sunday Creek and followed the base of Timber Mesa.

  Rebekah spied a trail right before Jimmy started guiding his horse to it. It looked like a switchback going to the top, at least from what she could see. And it looked ancient, even more so than the cattle trail on Brushy Butte. But she knew how dramatically the terrain of the canyon could change with cataclysmic events.

  They started up the trail. As she maneuvered her horse around the first sharp turn, nose to tail with Jimmy's horse, Rebekah glanced to look back over Sunday Creek in the distance. She pulled her horse up to a stop and backed him a few steps for a better look, holding her breath.

  Jimmy halted. "Something wrong, Doc?”

  Rebekah didn't look at him, just held up her hand to keep him quiet.

  From the east, two men were riding hard, cutting through the center of the canyon, heading for them. Their determined seats in the saddle and reckless flight revealed their identities.

  Clem and Van Baxter.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Let's ride!" Jimmy called, but Rebekah motioned him to stillness again.

  She looked beyond him, to the top of the canyon wall. They wouldn’t be able to make it to the rim before the Baxters were within rifle range.

  There was little cover on the switchback trail. At the opposite end of it from where Rebekah and Jimmy were, she saw something in the rock face that caught her attention. She nosed her horse around Jimmy on the narrow trail. This was indeed an ancient one.

  "Follow me."

  Jimmy looked hesitant, his hand going over the empty spot where his six gun normally would be. Then he nodded and she urged her horse up the trail, mindful of a washed out spot and rock debris that had nearly closed it off in one place.

  When they reached the rock face, Rebekah looked back to see Clem and Van were at the base of the trail, drawing rifles. Eyes forward again, she pushed the horse over the last rise to level ground as the report of a rifle sounded.

  Hot lead whizzed by Rebekah’s ear. She hunched over in the saddle and pushed her horse under the high rock overhang. She spared a glance behind her to see Jimmy doing the same.

  They clattered into the cavern-like space. A look around confirmed her guess. This was an open rock shelter used by first people of the land for centuries.

  The ground was too hard for the shod horses’ feet. Rebekah dismounted and untied her medical bag from the saddle. Jimmy hopped off his horse and grabbed her horse’s reins.

  "How do you know this was here, Doc? I couldn’t see it from back on the trail."

  "We can chat later, Jimmy. Right now, please take the horses to the other end. See if you can create a makeshift corral for them. Stay with them and keep quiet.”

  Rebekah retraced her steps to the opening of the shelter that ran lengthwise, facing the canyon. Staying low, she peered out to see Clem and Van making a mad dash by horseback straight up the steep slope rather than following the switchback trail.

  It proved too much for Van’s palomino and his riding abilities. With a terrified scream, his horse lost its footing and flipped backwards. Van kicked loose of the stirrups and jumped away as the horse made a complete roll.

  Dust sprayed and the horse got to its shaky legs, standing sideways against the steepness. Van lay still on the ground not far away.

  Clem didn't stop.

  Rebekah loosed her medical bag from the rope Jimmy had used to s
ecure it and spread it open wide. She pushed her few instruments and bottles to the side, and popped open the false bottom. Pulling it back, she stared at the Sharps & Hankins breechloading pepperbox tucked inside.

  Do no harm.

  The hippocratic oath echoed in her mind, one she'd had to check herself before on in the often wild territories that her duties led her into.

  She touched the cold metal of the small, four-barreled pistol and thought about praying. But there wasn’t time.

  It wasn't doing harm to save a innocent boy's life, nor her own.

  Rebekah pulled out the pepperbox, a .32 caliber rimfire, and straightened to ease herself deeper into the rock shelter. Clem would be there within a minute. She took a precious few seconds to study her surroundings and make her decision.

  The front of the shelter was wide like a road running in front of houses. The section where houses would be was formed in natural shapes that lent themselves to shelter. She went to one and discovered it opened into a comfortably sized living space with three rock walls. There was even a carved ledge like a window.

  This was where Rebekah chose to position herself.

  Clatter from down the way told her Jimmy wasn't going to obey her last order for him to stay with the horses. Her stomach knotted tighter.

  She hissed, “Jimmy! In here."

  Jimmy dodged through the opening. His eyes widened at the sight of the pistol. There was something about seeing it out and in Rebekah's hand that shocked him.

  "Let me, Miss Rebekah. I'm a good shot."

  "So am I, Jimmy. Now please stay behind me, out of the line of fire."

  Jimmy gulped, whether from fear of her being in the line of fire or uncertainty of her ability to protect them both, she didn't know. She turned her attention to the opening that led into the ancient rock shelter, cocking the hammer on her pepperbox, licking her lips to moisten them, tasting the red clay of the canyon.

  It amazed her that Clem had tracked them so far, that he hadn’t given up and returned to the ranch house to care for his two wounded brothers. If he put that determination toward something worthy rather than vengeance, he could make quite a place of the Baxter Ranch.

  Horse’s hooves clattering along the same path she and Jimmy had taken minutes before alerted her of Clem’s exact position. Rebekah used the ledge to brace against as she took aim and waited.

  An eternity slipped through her mind in a single moment when Clem Baxter rode into the cave, six-gun drawn, cocked, and pointed to the ceiling as he looked around. He hadn't shaved in days, adding to his wild look. That was all Rebekah observed as she squeezed off a round.

  The bullet hit its mark, the ceiling right above Clem Baxter's head. Rock sprayed over him as his horse reared in surprise, adding to the deafening echoes that reverberated through the rock shelter. Clem’s gun discharged. He lost his balance and rolled off. He hit the rock floor.

  His horse turned and galloped outside as Clem kept rolling. He recovered and darted to the ledge of the shelter on the canyon wall.

  Rebekah fired again, striking him in the leg. Clem cursed and continued his scramble up and over the ledge, disappearing from sight.

  Rebekah felt a twinge of regret and relief that she had chosen not to take Clem’s life when she could have. Relief because she never wanted to see anyone die. Regret because it might have cost her and Jimmy their lives.

  She had two shots left. It could take more than that to bring down a wounded, mad animal.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The echoes settled down to quiet along with the gray brown dust. Then Clem Baxter’s voice echoed violently through the rock shelter.

  “You think you've won, Doc!” His words were slurred. How much had he been drinking? “I got something to tell you. No one wins against Clem Baxter. They always bend to my will, even if it kills them."

  She wondered if he could see Van’s still form on the side of the wall.

  Rebekah debated responding, but she knew his talk was a trick. He would try to maneuver around to where he could get a bead on her. She watched the last place she had seen him disappear into, then all along the ledge. She caught a flash of his barrel seconds before he shot. She pulled back, but the bullet ricocheted off the back wall and Jimmy howled behind her.

  She quickly looked to see him frozen against the dusty gray rock wall, eyes wide with the look of death.

  "Jimmy,” she whispered, voice choked with tears.

  He blinked and turned his head toward her. His eyes kept moving to the little hole in the rock beside his head.

  Rebekah closed her eyes in relief, gulped, then looked back to the outside. Clem Baxter was scrambling over the ledge further down. He was at an angle that Rebekah couldn't get a clear shot at. He dove into a opening further down.

  He was getting around well despite the hole in his leg. She could have shot out his kneecap and crippled him for life. She would likely regret not doing that as well. He could still shoot straight despite the alcohol in his blood.

  It was time to end this.

  Rebekah unloaded the two remaining cartridges in her pepperbox.

  Jimmy whispered hoarsely, “Doc, what are you doing?"

  "Hush."

  Rebekah slid the barrel back in place and cocked the hammer in the stillness. She squeezed the trigger.

  Click.

  She cocked and squeezed it again. And again, rapidly. Click. Click, click!

  A deadly laugh sounded from not more than a dozen yards away.

  "Maybe you'd like to talk now, Doc? Trouble is, I’m not in the mood for talking."

  While the words echoed in the rock shelter, Rebekah reloaded her two cartridges and cocked the hammer. Clem Baxter was stepping into the roadway of the shelter, gun out and aimed at her enclosure, moving forward as he dragged his leg along.

  "You're going to regret ever crossing me, lady."

  Rebekah pressed herself against the wall, her gun down, out of sight. Clem Baxter hadn't spotted her yet. She raised the pepperbox and took aim.

  A shout came from the other end of the rock shelter.

  "Drop it, Clem!"

  Rebekah's eyes scanned the darkness behind Clem. Clem did too, firing his gun as he turned. A single shot answered, knocking Clem Baxter flat on his back.

  Rebekah slowly released the breath she’d been holding and uncocked her pistol.

  Sam Lowell appeared on the roadway, walking up toward Clem Baxter, Winchester in hand. Several other men appeared out of the rocks. Lowell men.

  Sam Lowell came to a stop over Clem’s body. He looked toward where Rebekah and Jimmy were.

  "You all right, Doc Beck?”

  Rebekah finish releasing her breath and straightened off the wall so that he could see her through the opening.

  "We are well."

  She and Jimmy joined Lowell, who glanced down at her hand, taking in the pepperbox. She didn't try to hide it in her skirt.

  "You arrived just in time, Mr. Lowell.”

  "We followed you and the boy from our place, wanted to make sure you left. When we saw the Baxter boys riding into the canyon, we decided to keep a watch and see if what you told us was true. When we heard you out of bullets, figured it was time to step in."

  Jimmy chuckled, a dry, choked sound. "Oh, Doc Beck had two—”

  Rebekah put a hand on his arm and he looked at her questioningly, but said nothing else. He didn't know why she didn't want him to say she had ammunition left. She wasn't sure why either, other than she wanted Sam Lowell to know that she meant what she had said. He stepped into action just in time.

  Although she knew the answer, Rebekah squatted beside Clem Baxter and pressed two fingers against his neck, feeling for a pulse. There was none. He had died instantly from the bullet that struck his heart.

  Someone called from the direction of the switchback trail. "This other Baxter, he's coming to."

  The group went outside and Rebekah saw Van Baxter sitting up, holding his head with one hand, the rifles of two
Lowell men trained on him.

  He glanced up, wincing. Blood ran down one side of his face from the reopened cut above his temple, along with a new one. Rebekah had seen the blood of all four Baxter brothers.

  She came to a stop before Van, who glared at her without speaking.

  “Van, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your brother is dead."

  Van’s eyes glazed over with anger, pain, and back to anger. He lunged to his feet. "You…it's all your fault!”

  "No, Van, it is not my fault, nor anyone else here. Your brother made his choices. Now it's up to you to make yours. I suggest you go home, bury your brother, and listen to Woodrow. He’s the oldest of the Baxter sons now.”

  Sam Lowell scooped Van’s hat off the ground and slapped it into the young man’s chest. "I would take the doc’s advice. She's a smart lady."

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Jimmy, he is a good boy."

  These words came from Mrs. Cuesta in Spanish as Rebekah helped her make corn tortillas for the evening meal.

  After they saw the sheriff in Canyon City and sent a telegram to Dr. McKinnon in Wyoming, Jimmy had assured Rebekah that he had the perfect place for them to spend the night before going north to Amarillo. She still had a train to catch.

  The Cuestas lived in a casita outside Canyon City with their eight children in ages varying from infant to twelve years old. Rebekah appreciated stepping into this large, joyful family after the long few days. She had no complaints about sharing a bed with three of the little girls, though she did look forward to the moment she had a private bedroom for a night.

  Rebekah pressed out a corn tortilla with the palm of her hand. “How long have you known Jimmy?" she asked Mrs. Cuesta in Spanish.

  Jimmy was in the living room of the open space, howling like a mad dog as he galloped on all fours, chasing two of the littlest Cuesta children. They squealed and jumped in their father’s lap. Mrs. Cuesta smiled at the ruckus.