The Whippoorwill Trilogy

by Sharon Sala

  Eulis Potter had been a good man—better than most. Robert Lee owed him in a way he’d never owed a man before. He’d been hired to protect the Potter mine, but had been unable to protect the Potters. That dug at him like a burr beneath the skin, pushing him on, when good sense bade him stop for the night.

  He had been in the valley, for what seemed like hours, hearing nothing but the sounds of his horse’s breathing, and the steady rhythm of its hooves upon the ground. His body was tense, his eyes burning from trying to see what the night was hiding.

  Only a short while earlier, he’d stopped long enough to water his horse at the creek, and mounted back up as soon as the horse had drunk its fill. He was riding without caution, flying through the moonlit valley as if he could see in the dark.

  Suddenly, a shot rang out in the night, echoing within the valley until the sound was too distorted to discern its origin.

  He reined in his horse, his heart hammering, frantically searching the darkness, waiting for another round to be fired, but there was nothing. Then, within a minute or two of the shot, he became aware of another sound—one he’d heard plenty of times before—but usually at his back.

  A horse was running toward him, coming this way fast.

  He drew his gun, wrapped the reins around his hand a little tighter, and waited. The horse came out of nowhere and was upon him before he could react. With nothing but moonlight by which to see, he could tell the horse was running from fear. Its head was up, the nostrils widely distended. As it came upon them, the horse squealed out a warning. Robert Lee’s horse squealed back, and it was all he could do to stay seated as the runaway horse dashed past.

  In those few seconds, seeing that the horse was without a rider only heightened his panic.

  Once he had his own mount under control, he rode forward. Within a couple of minutes, he could see fire, and the closer he got, the more his horror grew.

  He rode into the camp at a gallop, dismounting with his gun drawn, and landing in a flat-out run. Letty’s dog came out of the darkness, barking and growling. The campfire was ablaze, but he wouldn’t look in it for fear of losing his night vision.

  He dropped to a crouch, scanning the area for signs of a struggle, and at first, saw nothing. The dog was still growling.

  “Hush boy,” he said. “You know who I am.”

  At the sound of Robert Lee’s voice, T-Bone went silent. Robert Lee glanced toward the fire, saw the body within it, then finally at the woman beyond, sprawled lifelessly on the ground and leaning against a tree.

  “Lord, Lord,” he said softly, and walked toward her.

  He couldn’t tell if she was alive or dead. Her gaze was fixed, her face expressionless. The large, black stains on her clothes were obviously dried blood but no way to tell if it was hers. His legs were shaking as he knelt at her side. When he reached out and touched the side of her face, she didn’t blink, but she was warm—blessedly warm—and her skin was soft—so soft to the touch.

  “Letty, it’s me, Robert Lee. Are you hurt?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He moved closer, then slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close against his chest. Her hair was in wild disarray—her clothes covered in dried blood and dust—and yet because she was alive, she seemed beautiful.

  Her pup was back beside her now, lying silently at her feet with a paw on her knees, as if pleading with her to get up. If only the dog could talk.

  Robert Lee cradled her head against his forearm, then pulled her into his lap. He wouldn’t look at the fire—trying not to think of what she’d been through—or what must be going through her mind—then wondering if she had a mind left with which to think. He’d been afraid a few times before in his life, but never as scared as he was at this moment.

  “Letty… darlin’… you got to talk to me now. I can’t help you none if you don’t say where it hurts.”

  He felt her shudder, and then heard her moan. When he looked, tears were rolling down her face. She blinked—so slowly that at first he thought she was falling asleep. Then she shuddered again, and this time when she blinked, he saw her eyes come into focus.

  The first thing Letty saw was the fire before her. A cold, almost satisfied expression came and went on her face, then she looked up, unaware that she was weeping.

  “Robert Lee? Is it you?”

  He cupped her head gently as he began brushing the hair from her forehead and her face.

  “Yes, ma’am, it’s me. Are you hurt?”

  Her features crumpled.

  “Oh, Robert Lee… he killed Eulis… my Eulis is dead.”

  Tears burned at the back of Robert Lee’s throat.

  “I know, girl… I know.”

  Her hands curled into fists as her gaze shifted once more to the flames.

  “He’s burning in hell, Robert Lee.”

  The rage in her voice made him shiver. This woman who held his heart would make an incomparable ally, but a formidable enemy. He was suddenly grateful they were on the same side.

  “I see that.”

  To his surprise, she pushed out of his arms and dragged herself up. Swaying slightly, she moved back to the stack of firewood and picked up another stick. One after the other, she threw them all on the burning pyre until flames were higher than her head, sending wild, renegade sparks flying up, up, up, into the darkness.

  He didn’t intervene. He understood the need for revenge. God knows this woman had done a hell of a job getting hers.

  It wasn’t until she’d thrown the last stick on the fire that he moved to her side, and laid a hand on her shoulder to let her know he was there.

  She turned and the look on her face was one of calm resolve.

  “Letty.”

  “What?”

  “Did you know him… the man who shot your man?”

  “George Mellin.”

  Robert Lee froze.

  “You talkin’ about Miz Alice’s husband?”

  “Yes.”

  He stared back into the fire. The implications of this revelation were such that it could drive someone mad—if that same someone was assigning the blame.

  If he’d never walked out into their valley looking for work, they might have never moved into town to the hotel. And if they hadn’t been in that hotel, they would have never known Alice Mellin, or gotten involved in her tragedy—or felt the need to intervene on her behalf.

  George Mellin would have continued on his way. Letty would never felt impelled to take a bullwhip to the man, and the grudge the man obviously bore her would never have evolved, and Eulis Potter would not be dead.

  Robert Lee’s father had often said that if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride, but he’d learned long ago that wishing for something didn’t change the truth.

  There was nothing more to be said.

  Promises Kept

  Letty kept the fire going all night, dragging limbs, dried brush, and anything she could find that would burn. The higher the flames, the easier it became for her to breathe without wanting to scream. Her hair was singed at the ends, and her eyes were raw and red-rimmed from the heat and burning ash. Her hands and arms were so bruised and scratched, they looked like she’d fought a bear and won, but she was impervious to pain. No matter how many times Robert Lee tried to coax her to rest, she refused to stop. He finally gave up the fight and followed the creek to where she’d tied her horse and walked it back to George Mellin’s camp.

  T-Bone shadowed every step Letty took, from going into the trees after more firewood, to standing watch at the fire as it burned.

  When Robert Lee came back with her horse, Letty staggered to the saddlebags and dragged out the food that Alice had packed for her. She pulled a piece of jerky from the pack and handed it to Robert Lee, then dropped to her knees and began feeding the last of the cold flapjacks to T-Bone.

  Robert Lee was dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to make of this woman. She was in shock, so weary she could hardly put one foot in front of the
other, and yet she was still taking care of those around her.

  “Letty… ma’am… please. I sure wish you would eat somethin’, too.”

  “No food,” she said shortly, and handed T-Bone another piece of flapjack.

  “You could at least rest a bit.”

  “I can’t rest. The fire will go out.”

  “No. I promise I won’t let it.”

  Letty dropped the last of the flapjack in front of T-Bone and then stood up, wiping her shaky hands on the legs of her pants as she turned toward the fire. If a person hadn’t known there was a body was in there, it would have been impossible to tell. But Letty knew it, and in her mind, she still saw him, sitting there breathing when her Eulis was dead.

  “He’s still there,” she said, and wiped a hand across her brow.

  Robert Lee frowned. Letty sounded like a woman out of her mind. He knew grief could do a thing like that. What he didn’t know was if she’d come out of this with her sanity intact.

  He took her by the arms, and gently gave her a shake.

  “Letty… Letty… look at me.”

  Her eyes were burning, and she’d inhaled wood smoke for so long that she felt lightheaded. Having to focus on Robert Lee was more difficult than he could imagine.

  “What?”

  He cupped her face with his hands, gently rubbing his thumbs along the edge of her jaw.

  “The man is dead. You know he’s dead… don’t you?”

  Letty looked at him as if he’d lost his mind and pushed his hands away.

  “Hell yes, he’s dead, Robert Lee. I oughta know. I put a hole right through the middle of his forehead before I set him on fire.”

  The hair crawled on the back of Robert Lee’s neck. He hadn’t known this. In fact, now that he thought about, it, he’d been so worried about her safety that he hadn’t taken time to think about how George Mellin came to be burning. Just the fact that it wasn’t Letty who’d been on fire had been all he’d cared about. But this bit of information set his teeth on edge.

  “You shot him,” he said.

  She frowned at him.

  “That’s what I said, didn’t I?”

  “Did he shoot at you?”

  “No. I took his rifle away while he was still asleep.”

  Robert Lee took a couple of steps backward, and sat down on a stump before he made a fool of himself and fainted.

  “You walked up on him in the dark? You took his rifle?”

  “What would you have done? Waited until he woke up and then had a shoot-out? I’m sorry, but I didn’t have the luxury.”

  “What do you mean?” Robert Lee asked.

  “There’s only one shot in this rifle when it’s loaded.”

  Robert Lee knew he was missing something, but he still didn’t know what.

  “Well, yes, ma’am, I know that.”

  Letty picked up another stick and threw it on the fire. Sparks rose toward the heavens like smoke up a chimney.

  “So I didn’t want him shooting back at me if I missed. I don’t know how to reload.”

  Robert Lee grunted as if he’d been kicked in the gut.

  “You took off after a killer with one shot. You rode all day and most of the night, not knowing where the hell you were going, or who you were after?”

  Letty nodded.

  “What if you’d missed?” he asked.

  A muscle jerked in her jaw as she licked her fire-burned lips.

  “But, I didn’t.”

  Then she turned away from him to stare into the fire.

  Robert Lee put his hands on his knees and then took a slow, deep breath. He’d seen some things in his life, but this woman beat them all. When he thought he could stand without stumbling, he got up and walked into the woods.

  Letty knew he was gone, but his whereabouts were of no concern to her. When he finally reappeared, he was carrying an armload of deadwood. He dropped it at her feet, and went back for more.

  It wasn’t until daylight when Letty could finally see, that she let the fire go out.

  She was sitting on the ground with her knees against her chest and her hands over her face. T-Bone was lying beside her. To Robert Lee’s knowledge, the dog hadn’t taken its eyes off of her since she sat down, and she hadn’t moved in over an hour. He wanted her to talk, but was scared of what might come out of her mouth.

  The morning sun shone down on the harsh reality of last night. The fire was nothing but a pile of warm ashes. From where Robert Lee was sitting, he could see what appeared to be a charred skull and some bones. The scent of smoke had dissipated drastically, but Robert Lee knew he would never forget the scent of burning wood and flesh, or the flash of fire in a grieving woman’s eyes.

  Across the creek, a doe slipped out of the trees, then lifted her head, tentatively sniffing the air. Finally, the need for water overcame her caution, and she moved down to the creek to drink. A small spotted fawn followed, taking short, tentative steps.

  He watched until they’d drunk their fill and moved back into the woods. At that point, his belly growled. Except for the piece of jerky Letty had given him, he hadn’t eaten in more than thirty-six hours, but he’d gone far longer without food, and in far worse situations. An empty belly now and then was good for the soul.

  Letty was numb. Her rage had burned out with George Mellin’s fire. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to ride all the way back to Denver City. She didn’t know why in God’s name George Mellin hadn’t killed her, too. It wasn’t fair that she’d been left behind.

  Sensing her turmoil, T-Bone stood up and licked her ear.

  She raised her head to shoo him away, and instead, found herself staring into the half-grown pup’s brown eyes. For the space of one heartbeat, she felt the pup’s distress as sharply as she felt her own.

  “Oh, T-Bone, what am I going to do without him?”

  Then she put her arms around the pup’s neck and started to cry.

  T-Bone whined softly.

  Letty patted him on the head and then pushed herself upright. She swayed shakily, then seemed to get her bearings and began digging through Mellin’s things. After nosing around, she picked up a large cloth sack and turned it upside down. The food and cookware that he’d stolen from the old man tumbled out into the dirt.

  Robert Lee heard the commotion and turned around just in time to see Letty move toward the fire. He stood abruptly, and started toward her.

  “Letty!”

  She didn’t stop until she reached the ashes. To his horror, she began digging the bones out of the ashes and putting them in the sack. It was just as he feared—she’d finally lost her mind. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

  “Letty! What the hell are you doing?”

  She shrugged out of his grasp and picked up the skull.

  “I’m taking Eulis’ killer to the sheriff.”

  Surely she didn’t believe this man was still breathing. This was worse than he feared.

  “Letty! He’s dead, I tell you. He’s dead.”

  She looked at him as if he’d suddenly become simple.

  “We’ve already been through this, Robert Lee. I know that. But, for God’s sake, it doesn’t change what he did to Eulis, or for that matter, to that old man he robbed. I intend for the people of Denver City to know that this killer paid for what he did.”

  Robert Lee was so relieved to know her wits were still about her that he took the sack from her hands and then held it open.

  Letty exhaled slowly. For the first time since his arrival last night, she became fully aware of what he’d done. Despite all the hours that passed and the miles she’d traveled, Robert Lee had found her.

  She looked down at his hands—at the long, slender fingers holding the old flour sack—remembering how quick he was on the draw, and how steady they were now. His eyes were narrowed with determination, and there was a jut to his jaw that she’d seen only once before—the day he’d stepped between her and the sheriff after she’d taken a whip to Alice’s hu
sband.

  She took a slow, deep breath, and then met his steady gaze.

  “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m right glad you happened along.”

  Robert Lee gritted his teeth to stop himself from saying what was on his heart, and just nodded.

  T-Bone barked.

  They turned to look at what had set him off, and were just in time to see a raccoon waddling from the water back toward the trees.

  “Leave him be,” Letty said, and the dog sat back down at her feet.

  Without another word between them, Letty piled what was left of George’s bones into the sack. Then together, they saddled up and began the long journey home.

  It was just after daybreak of the next day when Letty Potter rode into Denver City. Several noticed her arrival, as well as the tall, dark-haired man riding behind her. Her dog was trotting beside her horse with his head up and his tongue dangling out the side of his mouth.

  Her hair was pulled back from her face and fastened at the nape of her neck with a piece of rawhide. The long, dark strands were uneven where the lengths had burned. Her skin was scratched and raw, and the old bloodstains on her clothes added to the drama of her appearance. Everyone knew that her husband had been killed and she’d disappeared soon after. Some claimed she’d thrown herself off a cliff from the grief. Others swore she’d surely been done in by her husband’s killer.

  Her re-appearance in town put rest to the gossip of her demise, but they could tell that something big was amiss. The lack of expression on her face sent tongues to wagging, and by the time she had ridden through town and dismounted in front of the sheriff’s office, a small crowd was gathering behind her.

  Sheriff Hamm came out to see what was happening just as Letty was tying up her horse. Like those gathering in the street, he’d supposed they’d never see her again—certainly not alive—yet here she was.