Cooper (The Landon Saga Book 3)

by Tell Cotten

  Cooper

  Tell Cotten

  Also by Tell Cotten

  Confessions of a Gunfighter

  Entwined Paths

  Dedication

  To my daughter, Klancy

  I’ve been called lots of names; Daddy is my favorite

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Cover Art:

  Marcy Meinke/Converse Printing & Design

  www.ConversePrinting.com

  mike@converseprinting.com

  Publisher’s Note:

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination.

  Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.

  Solstice Publishing – www.solsticepublishing.com

  Copyright 2014 Tell Cotten

  2nd edition

  Part 1

  “Severed Paths”

  New Mexico Territory

  Prologue

  I have been well acquainted with trouble these past few years. It’s a violent cycle. Soon as things get peaceable, trouble hurries back around.

  Having a younger brother named Yancy Landon doesn’t help. Yancy is well-known for his skills with his Colt six-shooter, and he also has a natural knack for finding trouble.

  I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not near as good with a six-shooter. My specialty is with my Henry rifle. I’m real accurate with it, and mighty quick too. I have a special way of swinging it up, and it’s almost as fast as Yancy’s draw.

  My name is Cooper Landon.

  Folks best describe me as tall, wide-shouldered, and rawboned. Whenever possible, I’m more relaxed than Yancy. I like life to go at a slow pace, and I also like to think things out before I act.

  This time, trouble started in Midway, Texas, when Cliff Curtis and his men robbed the stagecoach. Two honest men were killed, and a young woman named Jessica was kidnapped.

  Utah ‘Stew’ Baine was the one that did all the killing.

  Yancy took it personal when we discovered that our friend Steve was among the dead. Steve had served with us during the war, and Yancy was determined to bring Stew to justice. So, we left Sergeant Jason Wagons in charge of Midway and took out after them.

  All this happened at a mighty inopportune time for me. I had just received my first furlough since before the war, and I’d been planning a trapping trip to the mountains in the New Mexico Territory. Turns out, I did get to go to the mountains, but instead of trapping beavers I was hunting men.

  For me, the chase ended abruptly.

  I was shot in the hip at a trading post in the foothills of the mountains. J.T. Tussle, who was Jessica’s uncle, was shot in the foot, and Jed Hawkins was also killed.

  I was lucky. The bullet only grazed my hip, and Pedro stitched me up and guaranteed a full recovery.

  However, I had to stay there while Yancy and Tussle went on, and I hadn’t seen them since. But I know Yancy, and I’d bet two month’s pay that he caught ’em, or killed them.

  So far I’ve left out the best part.

  There’s a town called Landry halfway between the trading post and Midway. It was there, on our third day, that I met Josie.

  In my opinion, Josie was the prettiest thing that had ever come along. She had a sharp, young-looking face with long, brown hair. And, underneath her appearance was an undeniable strength.

  At the time, Josie was accompanied by Lee Mattingly.

  Lee was a professional gunfighter that always seemed to bump into us Landons. In fact, he even used to ride with my cousin Rondo. There were all sorts of stories about him, and his reputation was legendary.

  Lee wanted to be rid of Josie, and after meeting her I was very willing to take her.

  I found out that Apaches had killed Josie’s family when she was nine, and for the past twelve years she had been living with them.

  But, she wasn’t anymore. She was with me now.

  Back to the story.

  After Yancy and Tussle left, Josie spotted some Apaches studying the trading post. She scouted around, and she discovered about sixty braves getting painted up for war. A young war chief named No Worries led them.

  There were only seventeen Mexicans there to defend the stockade. They were determined to stay, but Josie was determined to leave. She knew the country, and she said she could lead us out.

  It was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made. However, after much thought, I decided to trust Josie.

  I tried to talk Pedro and the Mexicans into coming with us, but their minds were made. The trading post was their home, and they were staying.

  So, I bought enough provisions to last a couple of weeks, and we left soon as it got dark. And none too soon, because a few hours later we could see the stockade burning in the distance.

  We both had a horse, and I also had a stubborn mule named Jug-head. We went up into the mountains, and the next day we discovered that we were being followed.

  At first my plan was to find Yancy. But, after considering the situation, I figured Yancy probably had enough to worry about without having a bunch of Injuns after him too.

  So, Josie took us high up into the mountains. She led us on a maze of rivers and trails, and she was real careful to cover our tracks. And, I have to admit that even I would have had a hard time trailing us, and I had been one of the best trackers in the Union army.

  Josie was finally satisfied that we had lost No Worries. I was sure glad, because I was worn out.

  I must have looked pale, because Josie decided that I needed rest, and I didn’t argue.

  She found us a nice little hiding spot. It was by a river, and there were trees all about. It was also in a canyon, with high walls all around. And, the trees helped hide any smoke from a fire.

  Our hiding place was real peaceful, and I figured we’d just stay there a while and let things settle down.

  Our first morning there, we discovered that we were practically surrounded by beavers.

  I found that amusing, and I mentioned it was a shame that we didn’t have any traps.

  Josie looked at me funny when I said that, and she said we didn’t need traps. She could catch them. I asked her how, and she taught me how to catch beavers the Indian way.

  Josie explained that beavers were a creature of habit, and the easiest way to catch them was to find where they entered and left the river. Josie looked around some, and she found the place within an hour.

  Next, she made a huge cage out of tree limbs. It had an opening, but the other end was closed so that when a beaver entered he couldn’t go on through.

  I had some leather straps in my saddlebags, and I helped make the cage. After that, Josie placed the cage underwater where the beavers left the river, and she also placed big rocks in the bottom to help keep it sunk.

  Every hour or so she would pull the cage up, and we’d have a cage full of drowned beavers.

  We developed a good system. Josie caught them, and I skinned them.

  In the evenings, Josie and I sat around a fire and worked on her English. I was surprised at how quickly it came back to her, and it wasn’t long until she could carry on a decent conversation. She was short and abrupt, but at least we could communicate.

  Before I knew it, a whole week passed. And, enjoyable as it was, I knew we couldn’t stay here forever. Our coffee supply was almost gone, and I figured Yancy was probably lost and confused without me.
r />   It was time to go home.

  Chapter one

  My feelings for Josie had grown stronger with each day. During our last night in our canyon, I finally built up enough courage to say something.

  We were drinking coffee by the fire when I suddenly looked up at her.

  “I want you to know; I’ve really enjoyed this week,” I said. I hesitated and added, “Being here, with you.”

  “Me too,” Josie smiled and nodded.

  I paused while I gathered my thoughts.

  “This Injun husband you had,” I said. “Did you, uh, love him?”

  “He was good to me.”

  “But did you love him?” I pressed.

  “I survived,” Josie replied, and her face was blank.

  It fell silent. Josie just sat there drinking coffee while I tried to come up with the right words.

  “Will you ever marry again?” I asked nonchalantly. “To a feller like me?”

  It was silent as she thought on that, and I held my breath.

  “When I live with Apaches,” Josie finally replied, “sometimes, a man and woman go away. Spend time together.”

  “Oh?”

  “When they come back,” Josie explained, “they were considered married.”

  “We’re sorta doing that right now,” I said thoughtfully.

  Josie nodded, and we both laughed.

  Chapter two

  Before we left, we bundled all the pelts together.

  We had caught a lot of beavers, and our bundle was massive. I was sure proud of that pack of pelts, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on Yancy’s face when he saw them.

  Jug-head pinned his ears and tried to kick me when I packed him down with the pelts, but I finally convinced him to be a good mule. After that I saddled the horses, and we left our little canyon.

  It was early spring, and already there was green grass and new life appearing. The snow had all melted, and the rivers and creeks were full. Everything had a crisp, fresh look to it.

  That is, everything but me. I found out real quick that I was still plenty sore, and we had to ride slow as we came down the mountains.

  A few hours of bouncing in the saddle passed, and I started hurting in places I didn’t even know about. But, I didn’t say anything. Josie had been living with the Apaches for the past twelve years, and I wanted to show her that I was just as tough as those Indians.

  However, by midday I must have looked pretty peaked, because Josie firmly announced that we were stopping.

  I protested a bit, but it was mainly just for show. I was worn out, and it was all I could do to just stay in the saddle.

  There was a creek nearby, so we rode over to it and made camp.

  Actually, it was Josie that made camp. Josie demanded that I sit there and rest, and I didn’t argue any.

  It was a good spot to camp. It was well sheltered with brush, and there was plenty of wood for a fire.

  I liked to smoke a pipe. So, while Josie hustled about, I took it out, packed it with tobacco, struck a match, and lit it. I took a puff as I leaned back and watched Josie.

  “Been thinking,” I said.

  Josie looked at me with a questioning look.

  “Back at Midway, there’s a little hill with a creek that would be an ideal place for a cabin,” I explained. “Now, I’m figuring these pelts should bring enough to get started building a small cabin. What do you think about that?”

  Josie didn’t say anything, but the smile on her face was the only answer I needed.

  “Judge Parker could marry us,” I suggested. “Now, I know according to the Injun way we’re already considered married, but it’d still be nice to hear the words.”

  Josie nodded, still smiling, and I smiled back.

  “It’s settled then?”

  “Yes,” Josie said, her voice soft and clear.

  “Good,” I grinned.

  It was silent for a few awkward moments while we smiled and gawked at each other. I finished smoking my pipe, and then Josie took charge.

  “We need meat,” she declared. “I go, find some.”

  “You can hunt with my rifle,” I offered as I put my pipe away.

  “No need.”

  “How are you going to catch anything?” I asked, confused.

  “Indian way,” Josie explained. “You stay. Rest. I come back.”

  “Indian way?” I smiled, and then nodded. “All right, I’ll take a nap.”

  Josie returned the smile, and then she was gone.

  Chapter three

  I fell asleep shortly after Josie left.

  I woke with a startled jump. I didn’t know where I was, and several seconds passed before it all came back to me.

  “Josie?” I called out softly.

  There was no answer, and a quick glance told me that she was still gone.

  I was thirsty, so I stood gingerly.

  Soon as I moved I discovered that I was very sore, and I was glad that Josie wasn’t around to witness the pathetic spectacle I made of myself.

  I built up the fire and put some coffee on. Then, I sat on a log and impatiently poked at the coals with a stick.

  My thoughts drifted while I waited for the coffee to boil, and I couldn’t help but smile as I thought of Josie and the life we were planning.

  I never thought something like this would happen, and I couldn’t wait to get back to Midway and start our life together.

  I started planning the cabin, log by log, when the sound of boiling coffee interrupted my thoughts. The coffee was black and strong, and I couldn’t help but breathe deeply the rich aroma.

  I was reaching for a cup when suddenly, in the far distance, I heard horses knocking around on the rock surface below me.

  I don’t know why, but right then that little voice inside me told me that trouble was fast approaching. I hated to hear that, ’cause that little voice was hardly ever wrong.

  The noises were faint, but I could still tell that they were coming closer.

  I didn’t want to be seen, so I kicked up some dirt and put out the fire.

  During the process I accidentally knocked over my pot of coffee, and it made a loud hiss as the dying flames lapped it up.

  “Ain’t that the way it goes,” I grumbled softly.

  With the fire now out, I stood still and listened.

  At first the chipping sound of the horses’ hooves seemed to fade, but then they suddenly got clearer. I was out in the open, so I grabbed my Henry rifle and backed into some bushes.

  It was then that my dun horse’s head came up sharply. He, along with Josie’s horse and Jug-head, were picketed close by, and they had been grazing quietly until now.

  From experience, I knew it was only a matter of a few seconds before he nickered out to them.

  I scrambled towards him, and I stumbled all over my campfire. I almost fell down, and pots and pans rattled.

  I finally reached him, and I smothered his mouth just as he started to nicker.

  I grabbed the lead rope and yanked back sharply.

  “You hush up now!” I hissed.

  My dun pinned his ears in protest, but he was quiet.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I relaxed my grip on the lead rope. With one hand on my horse’s nose and the other holding my rifle, I listened as the riders eased past me.

  “Keep on going, boys,” I said softly.

  Suddenly, Jug-head let out the loudest hee-haw I had ever heard.

  I winced as my ears rang, and I sighed softly.

  Chapter four

  “Jug-head!” I glared at my mule. “One of these days I’m going to trade you to a hungry Injun!”

  I left the horses and backed into some brush. Whoever was out there had to be curious, and all I could do now was wait.

  A few minutes passed, but to me it felt like an hour. And then, I heard their horses moving forward. Seconds later, two riders came into sight.

  They pulled up and looked around. As for me, I had my rifle loaded and cocked,
and I was ready for anything.

  “Hello the camp! Can we come in?” One of them called out.

  My first impulse was to tell them to move on. Then again, if they were looking for trouble they would just come back later, so I figured I’d best get it over with.

  “Come on in,” I replied. “But take it slow and easy.”

  “Take it easy yourself!” The rider chuckled. “We ain’t looking for trouble.”

  I didn’t reply as they rode into camp. They pulled up, and it was silent as we looked at each other.

  Handsome ain’t exactly the first thing that came to mind as I studied the man that had been doing the talking. His face was covered in scars, and it looked like his nose had once been broken, and maybe even twice. He was short with a stocky build and looked to be in his early fifties.

  His companion was younger, and his face was lean and dark.

  He had on a sweat-soaked shirt and greasy pants. However, I noticed that his Colt six-shooter was sparkling clean, and it looked like he knew how to use it.

  The younger man was also a bit unkempt, and he smelled like a sick skunk. I wanted to move upwind of him, but I had a good view from where I was. So, I just breathed slower.

  “Howdy,” the older man said.

  “Afternoon,” I nodded.

  “My boy thought he could smell campfire smoke,” he said. “I was surprised, ’cause there’s usually nobody up here this high. Especially somebody traveling alone. You alone?”

  “Not for long.”

  The older man nodded thoughtfully, and he eyed my spilt pot of coffee.

  “I was hopeful you might have some coffee on,” he said.

  “I accidently knocked it over,” I explained, and I felt my face getting red. “I’ll make some more.”

  The older man gave a knowing smile as they dismounted.

  “It doesn’t hurt to be careful,” he said. “This can be dangerous country to travel through, especially for a fellow that’s alone.”