The sun lowered behind the butte and, thankfully, gave them some shade. The air was still hot, but at least the harsh sunlight wasn’t glaring down on them anymore.
Cecilia said, “Once it gets dark, will they try to sneak up on us?”
“There’s a good chance of it,” Bo answered honestly.
“So that’s why you told us to load our guns fully. You believe we’re going to be fighting them at close range.”
Luella said, “Should . . . should we save the last bullet for ourselves?”
Bo said, “That’s up to you, but I’m still hoping it won’t ever come to that—”
Gunfire crackled out on the flats.
Bo tightened his grip on his rifle and raised himself up slightly to peer toward the bandits. He expected to see them charging toward the butte again. Instead, although the shooting continued, no one rode toward them.
Scratch was watching, too, and he frowned as he asked, “What in blazes is goin’ on out there? Did they start fightin’ among themselves?”
“Could be, I suppose,” Bo said. “Maybe some of them decided they don’t want Mendoza running things anymore.”
The sounds of battle went on for a minute or so, and then dust began to rise. A column formed and moved off to the northwest. Another pillar of dust followed.
Scratch peered into the distance and said, “I can’t see any riders out there now, Bo. They must’ve pulled out.”
“Or got chased out. There were two dust clouds.”
“Yeah,” Scratch said. “Looks like one bunch turned around and is headin’ this way now.”
“Keep an eye on them,” Bo said as he stood up.
“What’s happening?” Cecilia asked.
“That’s what I intend to find out.”
Bo went quickly to his horse, opened one of the pair of saddlebags, and took a pair of field glasses from it. He returned to the rock he had used for cover during the fight and raised the glasses to his eyes.
After a moment of adjusting the glasses and searching, he located the group of riders coming toward them. He counted ten men, and none of them looked like bandits. They were all gringos, and judging by their range garb, they were cowboys.
All the newcomers were young except for the man who rode in the lead. He was clearly older, with a short gray beard and jug-handle ears. When the group was fairly close, he motioned for the others to stop and urged his horse on so that he approached the butte by himself.
When he finally reined in, he called, “Hello, the rocks! Anybody left alive in there?”
“Alive and ready for trouble!” Bo shouted back. “Who are you?”
The man crossed both hands on his saddle horn and leaned forward. “Name’s Rance Plummer,” he replied. “Foreman of the SJ Ranch, about thirty miles north of here. Who might you be, and why was Jaime Mendoza tryin’ to kill you? Not that that varmint would need much of a reason other than sheer meanness.”
“I’m Bo Creel, and my partner’s Scratch Morton. Mendoza figured on stealing our wagon, and we didn’t much cotton to the idea.”
Plummer nodded slowly. “Can’t say as I blame you for that, but you must be carrying something mighty special in that wagon for Mendoza to throw his whole bunch against you like that.”
Bo dodged the implied question for the time being by saying, “You got a good enough look at Mendoza to recognize him?”
“We heard the shooting and decided to take a look,” Plummer replied with a shrug. “I have a good spyglass, and I’ve been around these parts long enough to remember when Mendoza was raiding before. He raised enough hell, folks ain’t likely to forget him. We figured out he had somebody pinned down here, and decided to take a hand in the game.”
That was exactly the sort of thing that Bo had hoped would happen.
“I guess Mendoza reckoned he’d already been stung enough today,” Plummer went on. “They put up a little fight, then fogged it out of there. We got ’em running good, then turned back. I don’t plan on leadin’ my boys into an ambush.”
“That’s the crew from your ranch out there behind you?”
Plummer grinned and said, “Saltiest bunch of cowhands you’ll find in the territory. But they’re good lads.”
“We’re mighty lucky you came along when you did,” Bo said.
Plummer cocked his head slightly to the side. “Wasn’t entirely luck,” he said. “Are you headed to Silverhill?”
Bo glanced at Scratch, who shrugged. Neither of them saw any reason not to tell the truth.
“That’s right,” Bo said.
“So are we. We aim to take in all the big doin’s.”
CHAPTER 20
Frowns creased the foreheads of both Bo and Scratch.
“What big doings?” Bo asked.
“You haven’t heard? They’re about to have themselves a big fandango in Silverhill.”
This was the first Bo had heard about such a thing. Cyrus Keegan hadn’t mentioned anything about a celebration. Of course, Keegan might not have known about it.
Not only that, but Bo also had a feeling that Rance Plummer wasn’t revealing everything he knew about what was going to occur in Silverhill. Bo couldn’t say why he had that hunch, but it rumbled around in the back of his brain, anyway.
“If you’ll let us come on in without shootin’ at us, I can tell you more about it,” Plummer continued.
He and the other cowboys appeared to be trustworthy, Bo thought. Those punchers might be rough around the edges, probably were, but most Western men would never harm a decent woman and even watched how they talked around her.
“Come ahead,” Bo called to the ranch foreman. He added, “Just you, though, at first.”
Plummer chuckled. “Bein’ careful, eh, Creel? Well, I suppose that’s to be expected. You ain’t from around these parts, so you don’t really know who we are.”
He rode a little closer and then dismounted. Bo and Scratch both covered him as he led his horse into the rocks.
Up close, Rance Plummer was a leathery old cowboy of the sort that Bo and Scratch knew well. They had met dozens, if not hundreds, just like him. Plummer slouched, thumbed his hat back on rumpled gray hair. He was nodding a greeting to them when he glanced to the side and suddenly straightened up.
Bo knew he had seen the five young women sitting on the ground between two boulders.
Plummer snatched his hat off and swallowed hard. “Ladies,” he said. “I’m mighty pleased . . . I mean, it’s an honor . . . I mean . . .”
Cecilia got to her feet and said, “Thank you for helping us, sir. Those bandits would have overrun us if you hadn’t come along.”
“Yes’m, I, uh, I reckon they would have. I’m sure glad we could give you folks a hand.” He gave Bo a look of utter confusion.
Bo tried to clear that up by saying, “Scratch and I are escorting these young ladies to Silverhill. They’re supposed to meet the fellas they’re going to marry there.”
Plummer’s bushy eyebrows rose. “You mean they’re the ones who—” He stopped short.
“The ones who what?” Scratch asked.
Plummer didn’t answer the question. Instead, he held his hat in front of his chest and said, “It’s a plumb pleasure to meet you ladies. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You have?” Rose asked as she got up and stood next to Cecilia. The others climbed to their feet, as well, now that the trouble seemed to be over.
“What have you heard about us?” Cecilia asked sharply.
“Just that there were some mail-order brides comin’ to Silverhill. Reckon you could say it’s big news.”
“I don’t know why it would be,” Rose said. “Surely, we’re not the first.”
“As a matter of fact, miss, you are,” Plummer said. “Word’s got around. You got to understand, the frontier’s a hard, monotonous place most of the time. Any stranger livens things up, but when it’s a handful of young, beautiful gals comin’ to town . . . Well, folks take notice of that.”
“I suppose,” Cecilia said. “It still seems like a lot of unnecessary fuss to me.”
Luella said, “Wait a minute. That celebration you mentioned . . . is it for us?”
Plummer cleared his throat, looked uncomfortable, and said, “I reckon that’s part of it, ma’am.”
Luella and Jean looked pleased to hear that news, and Rose and Beth seemed somewhat impressed, as well. Cecilia was just suspicious.
So was Bo. He felt like there was something Plummer wasn’t telling them.
That feeling grew stronger when the ranch foreman went on, “Me and the boys are gonna be heroes around here when folks find out it was you ladies we saved from Mendoza’s bunch. They’ll be slappin’ us on the back and buyin’ us drinks in Forbes Dyson’s saloon.”
“Who’s that?” Bo asked.
“Dyson? He owns the biggest saloon in Silverhill. He’s the one who come up with the idea to—”
Once again Plummer didn’t finish what he started to say, strengthening Bo’s feeling that something else was going on. If Plummer didn’t want to explain himself, though, there wasn’t much they could do to force the man to talk, especially considering how Plummer and his companions had saved their bacon.
“It’s fairly late in the afternoon,” Bo said. “It might be best if we just made camp here tonight. We don’t want to keep you men from going on with your plans—”
“No, sir,” Plummer interrupted with a vehement shake of his head. “The boys and me ain’t goin’ nowhere. We won’t intrude on your camp here, but we’ll pitch our bedrolls close by, in case Mendoza decides to come back. And then, in the mornin’, we’ll ride with you. It’ll take another couple days to get to Silverhill. Plenty of time for more trouble to crop up. Nobody’ll bother you, though, if you’ve got a bunch of salty cowpokes like us ridin’ with you.”
That suggestion annoyed and relieved Bo at the same time. He and Scratch were responsible for the ladies’ safety, and they never left a job unfinished.
On the other hand, accepting the help that Plummer was offering would ensure that the young women reached Silverhill without any further mishaps, and in the end, getting them there safe and sound mattered more than anything else.
“I suppose that’s all right,” Bo said. “We’re obliged to you for the help. I guess if you want to bring the rest of your men in—”
“No, sir,” Plummer said. “Nope. I’m too old to do more’n admire these ladies for their beauty, like you fellas. But that bunch of young hellions ridin’ with me, they’d start pawin’ the ground and snortin’ smoke out their noses if they spent too much time around the ladies. You know how boys like to show off and scuffle whenever there’s a pretty girl around. Five of ’em would create a heap of commotion. No, we’ll keep our distance.”
That plan didn’t bother Bo. In fact, he was grateful Plummer felt that way. Having the cowboys close enough to lend a hand if needed but not close enough to stir up a lot of turmoil was the perfect solution.
“All right, if you’re sure,” Bo told him.
Plummer nodded gravely.
Cecilia said, “Thank you again, Mr. Plummer.”
“No, ma’am, it’s us that ought to be thankin’ you for all the excitement you’re bringin’ into our lives.” Plummer put his hat on and continued, “I’ll go explain to the fellas who you are and what we’re gonna do.”
“I hope they’re not upset with your decision to escort us,” Rose said.
“Oh, they ain’t gonna be the least bit upset, ma’am. I can promise you that.”
Plummer swung up into his saddle and rode out of the rocks, heading back to the group of cowboys waiting fifty yards away. Cecilia frowned after him as she watched him go.
“Is it just me,” she said, “or did anyone else get the feeling something’s going on that Mr. Plummer didn’t tell us about?”
“It’s not just you,” Bo said.
The burst of raucous laughter that came from the cowboys after Plummer had spoken to them just made Bo’s hunch stronger.
* * *
A few greasewood bushes grew among the boulders around the butte’s base. Scratch was able to gather enough dry, broken branches to build a small fire, so they were able to enjoy hot food and coffee that evening.
Plummer and the cowboys from the SJ Ranch had a campfire, as well. Bo, Scratch, and the ladies could see them moving around by the light of the flames. Luella, Jean, and Rose were particularly interested in watching them.
“We really should have invited them to join us, you know,” Luella said. “I mean, after all they did to help us.”
“They practically saved our lives,” Rose said.
Bo said, “I did tell Plummer he could bring them in if he wanted to. He’s the one who decided that might not be a good idea, but I’ll admit, I’m a mite relieved he felt that way. Those cowboys seem trustworthy enough, that’s true, but it wouldn’t hurt to get to know them a little better before we invite them to share our camp.”
“Mr. Creel is right,” Cecilia said. “This is the frontier. It’s always better to be careful.”
A little later, while Bo and Scratch were tending to the horses, Scratch said quietly, “We’re still gonna stand guard tonight, even though those cowpokes are right close by, aren’t we?”
“We are,” Bo confirmed. “Like I told the ladies, they seem trustworthy, but I’m sure Plummer told them what he found over here. Or rather, who he found. Some of those cowboys might find the temptation to come courting too much.”
Somewhat to Bo’s surprise, though, nothing of the sort happened overnight, nor was there any sign of Jaime Mendoza and his remaining men returning.
The cowboys kept their distance, even in the morning, when Plummer rode back over to the butte while Bo and Scratch were hitching up the team and the young women were cleaning up after breakfast.
Plummer pinched the brim of his hat respectfully and said, “Mornin’, ladies.”
“Good morning, Mr. Plummer,” Cecilia said.
To Bo and Scratch, the ranch foreman said, “I figured I’d send some of the boys ahead a ways to scout. The rest of us’ll ride flank and drag. We want to make darned sure these ladies get to Silverhill all right.”
Once again Bo had the feeling that something unsaid was behind Plummer’s words. He considered refusing to budge until Plummer had come clean about what was really going on, but the best way to find out was probably just to go ahead and see what happened.
Whatever it was, he and Scratch would be prepared for trouble, because they always were.
This time, they would be heavily outnumbered if the cowboys tried any funny business, though, so Bo knew he wouldn’t be relaxing anytime soon, probably not until they got the ladies safely to Silverhill.
Bo nodded to Plummer and said, “We’re obliged to you for the help.” Then, when the foreman had ridden back to join the other cowboys, he added to Scratch, “I want you to drive the wagon today.”
“What’s the matter with my driving?” Rose wanted to know. “I thought I’d been doing a fine job handling the team.”
“You have been,” Bo assured her. “I just want Scratch to be close to you ladies in case of any trouble.”
“What trouble could there be?” Luella asked. “We’re going to be surrounded by a bunch of handsome young cowboys, aren’t we?”
“That’s what’s got me worried,” Bo said.
CHAPTER 21
A couple of miles along the trail leading west toward Silverhill, another low butte rose several hundred yards to the north. A ledge curved around it and served as a trail leading to the top. Sparse grass grew in clumps on the butte, and there were several rocky depressions that functioned as natural cisterns, catching the occasional rainfall that collected in shallow pools.
Because of the ledge and the availability of grass and water, from time to time travelers used the top of the butte as a campsite.
This morning, Jaime Mendoza and the men who had survived the battle waited o
n the butte, keeping an eye on the trail in the distance. Mendoza had ordered them to keep themselves and the horses farther back on the butte, so they wouldn’t be as visible to anyone passing by.
After the arrival of the group of wild, fast-shooting gringo cowboys forced them to flee from their attempt to capture the wagon with the beautiful young women in it, most of Mendoza’s men had expected they would circle around and head south, closer to the border, in case they needed to dash over it to escape the authorities.
Instead, Mendoza had led them here, and this was where they had been ever since.
Philip Armbruster pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped sweat from his face. Even though the sun had been up for only a few hours, the day was already hot. No shade was available on top of the butte.
Mendoza wasn’t budging, though. He was going to wait right here until his quarry had gone past.
Armbruster had heard considerable muttering among the men about everything that had happened. They had all been enthusiastic about taking those five attractive señoritas prisoner and putting them to good use before selling them below the border. It would have been a good deal all around for the group.
No one had expected the two old gringos with the women to put up such a deadly fight, however. Several members of the band had been killed, and they had lost horses, too, which was almost as important. Ernesto Reyes, who had been Mendoza’s second-in-command, was dead.
Some of the men believed it would be wiser just to let the women go by and not risk any more losses. After all, they said, there were other women in the world, and these didn’t possess anything all the others lacked.
But others in the group felt like they couldn’t allow the gringos who had inflicted such damage on them to go unpunished. They still wanted the women, as well. Mendoza had kept all his followers on a tight leash in recent weeks, ever since Armbruster had shown up and sold the bandit leader on the idea of having stories about him and his “glorious cause” published in an American newspaper.
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