Outlaw Express

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Outlaw Express Page 4

by Gillian F. Taylor


  ‘You saw them?’ she asked, turning her horse as he reached her.

  Alec nodded. ‘Manford found our trail. They don’t know where in the gulch we are, so they won’t be moving faster than a trot or their horses will tire too quickly in case they have to ride a long way to find us. We’ve got a wee start on them so let’s be making the most of it.’ Alec shook his reins, and Moray leaped forward into a brisk lope; Lacey followed him half a length behind.

  He kept the pace up for almost half an hour, when the gulch had curved again. Alec eased up the pace, aware that he was breathing a little more heavily than he’d expect after such a ride. He studied the horses too as they walked on; both were taking longer than usual for their breathing to slow to the normal rate. Lacey, though, looked fine. Alec felt mildly indignant that she was coping with the thin air better than himself, but was also relieved; it was one less thing to worry about.

  The valley stretched away ahead of them, white-clad peaks all around. A narrower gulch led away on their left. Alec considered things as they rode in the bright sunshine. The folds of the land and stands of pine offered some cover along the main valley, but it would be hard to keep moving and keep out of sight. If they took the smaller gulch to the left, they wouldn’t be immediately visible to anyone coming around into the main valley. It offered less cover though.

  ‘If the bandits are blocking us from leaving this valley, what are we going to do?’ Lacey asked.

  Alec indicated the mountains ahead. ‘We crossed them yesterday; there’ll be a pass we can take to get back into the Arkansas River valley. With any luck, we can reach Buena Vista tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, I’m looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed again.’

  ‘We’ll go this way,’ Alec said, with more confidence than he felt, as he turned towards the smaller gulch. He knew his own county well, but it was northwest of here. This, the Sawatch Range, he only knew in the most general way. He had no idea if there was a pass across at the head of either valley, but he was confident he could find the way if there was one.

  As they crossed the floor of the valley, they reached their first obstacle. The creek was full and fast as the snows started to melt. There was no obvious trail across, and Alec rode along the bank a little way, considering the fast flowing water.

  ‘There’s no telling how deep it is, or what the bed’s like,’ he said to Lacey. ‘If there’s rocks under the water, the horses could fall. It would be easy to drown in fast water like that, or the horse could lame itself.’

  ‘I can’t swim,’ Lacey replied.

  Alec glanced back down the gulch. ‘We can’t take too long.’ He assessed the bank again. ‘It’s no more than ten feet. A horse covers near on that much in one stride at the gallop. Our horses can clear that easy enough. You jumped obstacles out hunting, didn’t you?’

  ‘Sure I did,’ Lacey said. ‘But I was riding side-saddle; I had the pommel horns to hold me on.’

  ‘You stayed on because you gripped the pommel horns with your legs. You’ve got a cantle and pommel on that saddle to hold you, and you can grip the horse’s sides with your legs and take a hold of his mane with your free hand. Get him going well and give him plenty of rein as you jump. He’ll do it fine,’ Alec reassured her. ‘I’ll go first an’ he’ll want to follow. Just jump the same place I do.’

  He looked at Lacey and got a nod from her, then circled Moray away from the bank at a trot. Picking his spot, Alec urged the horse into a controlled gallop, increasing speed until they reached the bank. Moray leapt boldly outward, Alec light and firm in the saddle. The horse landed well clear and came back sweetly to hand. Alec slowed him and circled back to face Lacey, on the other bank, grinning with pure pleasure.

  ‘Your turn,’ he called.

  Lacey followed his example, riding a circle away from the creek to get her horse going, then increasing speed as she approached the jump. Alec could see she was tense, clutching the reins with one hand and the mane with the other, but not pushing the horse on properly. She didn’t keep her mount straight on the course that Alec had followed either.

  ‘Gallop!’ he yelled.

  Lacey half-panicked, thumping her heels against the horse’s side as it placed itself for the jump. It took off slightly too soon, and not fast enough. The dun stretched itself valiantly over the icy water as Lacey lurched in the saddle. Its front legs reached the bank safely but its back legs landed on a snow overhang that crumpled, dropping its quarters down into the creek. Lacey squealed, grabbing for the mane on the crest of its neck with her rein hand. The horse floundered against the edge of the bank as Alec kicked his own horse forward.

  ‘Let go of the mane!’ he yelled. ‘Let him get his head forward.’

  Lacey did as she was told, grabbing the pommel with both hands. The dun got his head down and hauled himself onto the bank of the creek. He trotted forward a few paces and stopped as Alec caught his bridle. Lacey continued to cling to the saddle, gasping, as the dun shook himself, but she pulled herself together enough to pat the horse. Alec dismounted and calmed her horse, talking to it and pulling its ears through his hands. When it was quieter, he examined its legs and hoofs, satisfying himself that no damage had been done. Giving it a final pat on the rump, he looked sternly at Lacey, his dark eyes fierce.

  ‘I told ye to jump where I did. The bank wasna’ firm where you jumped,’ he barked.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sheriff. I was nervous.’ Lacey sniffed, her voice tremulous.

  It was being addressed as ‘sheriff’ jolted Alec into remembering that he was not an officer addressing a new recruit. He now registered Lacey’s distress, and anger turned to guilt. He patted the horse again.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Fry,’ he said more gently. ‘I didn’t mean to upset ye. But you must do as I tell you; you could have lamed your horse jumping there.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Lacey promised.

  ‘Good.’ Alec flashed a quick smile, and swung himself into his saddle. ‘We’d best be getting on.’

  They followed Chuck Manford’s lead, though the trail wasn’t too hard to follow here. Bill Alcott looked relaxed in the saddle of his liver chestnut, though he tensed slightly every time he saw Manny Houston on Jacob’s horse. That was just wrong, and he kept expecting Jacob to start shouting at Houston to get off of his horse and ride his own. But Turner had made off with Jacob’s horse and the woman, and had killed Jacob. Alcott felt kind of numb about his brother’s death, but also angry. Angry at Turner for betraying him, and angry at himself for his lapse in judgement in letting that little Scots bastard join him. He’d trusted Turner, and even started to like him, and now the two-faced skunk had gone and stolen the woman away, after all his protestations about not taking her, and then on treating her right.

  ‘How’d you reckon Turner got her to sneak away with him?’ Houston asked Hannigan. The half-caste had been angry at having his horse stolen, and wasn’t happy about riding the dead man’s mount. He’d spent the first half hour or so grumbling about his bad luck until Manford had told him to shut up. ‘Sure an’ they can’t have made much noise iffen Jacob was the only one they done woke up.’

  Hannigan snorted. ‘It was all that gentleman hogwash he pulled, making out he was real respectful of her. I bet my bottom dollar she sure got a surprise once he got her on her lonesome.’

  ‘I guess Turner don’t like sharing much,’ Houston said.

  ‘He wanted to be certain-sure he got the cherry.’ Hannigan spat disdainfully.

  Up ahead, Manford had reined in and was studying the ground. The other outlaws stopped too, not wanting to trample any trail. After scouting around a little, he gestured for them to join him.

  ‘See that there?’ he pointed out a pile of horse dung a little way up the side of the spur. ‘Someone waited there a spell while someone else climbed to the top. Then the climber returned and they both done rode back up the gulch. Pretty damn recent, too.’

  ‘Turner climbed up to scout and saw us coming,’ Alcott said,
looking at the top of the spur and estimating the view it gave across the park below.

  ‘There’s older tracks leading up here,’ Manford said. ‘Maybe sometime yesterday. And fresh ones coming back, then returning up the gulch.’

  ‘Came up here last night, most likely camped in that patch of wood. Came back this way this morning, saw us, and headed back up to the divide,’ Alcott summarized.

  ‘How far ahead d’you reckon they are?’ O’Leary asked excitedly, gathering up his reins and making his horse dance restlessly.

  ‘It don’t matter,’ Alcott said. He smiled for the first time that day as he looked along the gulch. ‘Turner ain’t so smart after all. He ain’t gonna get out over those peaks. There’s no pass; he’ll have to come back this way with his tail between his legs.’

  ‘So let’s go meet him,’ O’Leary said, grinning.

  ‘No need to wear out ourselves an’ the hosses,’ Alcott said. ‘Let Turner and the girl ride all day; they’ll end up coming back unless they want to die up there. We’ll make camp in those trees ahead, where the gulch is narrowest, an’ be waiting for them to ride right back to us. They can’t stay bottled up in this gulch for long. They’ll have to try and leave and we’ll be right there, all rested and ready.’ He looked along the gulch and smiled once again.

  At first, Alec and Lacey kept up a fair pace, jogging for half a mile at a time then slowing to a walk before either horses or riders got too out of breath. The trees became sparser and smaller as they climbed higher and there was more snow. It became too risky to go faster than a walk, and often a slow one at that, as the horses picked their way between rocks and round or through the snow. Alec glanced back at intervals, but he neither heard nor saw anything of the bandits. They did once spot three bighorn sheep trotting away across a rock face, and a golden eagle soared overhead for a while. The sun moved past noon, and the going got harder. They zig-zagged back and forth across the gulch, eyes screwed up against the dazzling brightness of the snow. Both riders had removed coats and jackets and the horses’ necks were damp with sweat from the warmth of the sun as well as exertion.

  Halting, so they could all catch their breath, Alec shaded his eyes with his hand and studied the landscape around them. Whichever way he looked, he was forced to the same conclusion.

  ‘It’s no good,’ he said, wheezing slightly. ‘We canna cross the mountains here.’

  ‘What?’ Lacey gasped back. She had one hand pressed against her slender waist. For the first time, Alec realized that of course she must be wearing a corset, making it harder for her to breathe deeply of the thin air.

  ‘I chose wrong,’ he said sharply, annoyed with himself. ‘There’s no pass here. I doubt we can get across here, even afoot. If we try, we’ll have to sleep out on the mountains, in the snow tonight, at best.’

  ‘What would be the worst?’ Lacey asked.

  ‘We die on the trail or freeze during the night,’ Alec said bluntly.

  Lacey did nothing other than simply gasp for a few moments. ‘We have to go back?’ she asked eventually.

  Alec nodded. ‘Now, so we can get down from here and set up camp before dark.’

  ‘What about the bandits?’ Her face tightened.

  Alec paused, listening again for the sound of other riders, before he answered. ‘I don’t think they followed us up here,’ he said. ‘We’ll go cautiously, but I’d rather take my chances with them than with the mountain.’

  Lacey gave a resigned nod. ‘I’m hungry.’

  Alec looked around till he saw a patch some quarter of a mile away, where there was some bare rock and shadow. He pointed towards it. ‘We’ll eat there,’ he promised.

  Lacey nodded again, and let him turn and pass her before turning her own horse to follow him back down again.

  Once there, Lacey dismounted with a faint groan, and staggered off to sit in the welcome shade. Alec unsaddled both horses, laying the saddle blankets out upside-down in the sun. He watered the horses at a creek, fed them some grain, then rubbed the damp from their necks and backs with a cloth. Spreading that out in the sun too, with stones to hold it down in the wind, he checked the horses’ legs and hoofs. Only then did he sit down near Lacey and start on his own helping of cheese and crackers.

  ‘Aren’t you going to groom them as well?’ she enquired drily.

  ‘Not until the sweat’s dried. It’ll brush out then,’ Alec replied. He caught her surprised expression. ‘Would ye like to walk to Leadville, carrying all your own things?’ he asked.

  Lacey shook her head, looking sheepish. ‘I know we need to look after the horses; I just didn’t realize there was so much work, grooming them so often.’

  ‘See how the hair under the saddle is hard, and not as smooth as on the flanks,’ Alec said, pointing at Moray. ‘They canna roll here, so brushing will get the dried sweat from their skin and make them comfortable before the saddles go back. The more comfortable a horse is, the longer and harder it can work for you.’

  Lacey nodded. ‘That’s common sense, really – horse sense,’ she added with a laugh.

  ‘Aye,’ Alec answered, smiling before he bit into the cheese.

  Going down the gulch again was easier, but still needed caution. Their trail showed clearly, with the snow, which worried Alec. He took advantage of what cover there was and halted frequently to listen, or to scout ahead a little way, often on foot. The need for constant alertness at least meant he didn’t have time to dwell on his mistake, or the difficulties ahead. After a final, careful check, they emerged back into the main gulch. Alec looked towards the head, at the snowy peaks there, and decided not to risk it. They’d already wasted one day on a dead end; it was better to aim for somewhere he was more sure of finding a pass across the mountains. Instead, he led the way back towards the creek.

  ‘We’ll jump it like before,’ he said, gathering up his reins and preparing to increase his pace.

  ‘No!’ The word burst out of Lacey. ‘I can’t do it.’

  Alec halted and looked at her. ‘You jumped it once already. The horses can do it easily, you know that.’

  ‘No, I don’t want to. Please don’t make me do it,’ she begged.

  ‘Why so scared?’ Alec asked, forcing himself to speak gently. ‘You made a mistake last time but there was no harm done. You’ll not do it again.’

  Lacey shook her head, fiddling with her reins in a way that made her horse toss its head. ‘I still don’t feel safe in this saddle; I don’t know how to sit to the jump. I know I don’t, now. And I ache, I don’t feel strong enough to sit tight. I’m not like you; I’m just a woman.’

  There was some truth in the babble of excuses. It was clear enough to Alec that she was genuinely worried by the thought of taking the jump, though he felt she was perfectly capable of it. What was important was that her fear would affect the way she approached the jump. and the way the horse itself jumped. All manner of things could lead to disaster and Alec couldn’t risk either Lacey or her horse getting hurt.

  ‘All right.’ He gave in. ‘We’ll head back along this side of the creek and try to find somewhere to cross lower down.’

  The tension immediately left her body. ‘Oh, thank you, Sheriff. Thank you so much.’

  ‘Come on.’ Alec nudged his horse into a walk again, following the north bank of the creek.

  Alec kept within the edge of the treeline as much as possible, but the lodgepole pines often grew closely crowded together, making it impossible to pass between them. They picked their way along as the gulch curved in the first part of the S-shape it made before entering the main park. The other side of the gulch, the spur that Alec had climbed in the morning, was in deep shadow now. Alec was feeling increasingly uneasy about the location of the bandit group. He’d been sure that they’d found his trail leading up this gulch, and would be following him. Why hadn’t they followed this way? Alec thought back to the weeks he’d spent with the outlaws. Riding this way, it had been clear that Alcott knew this area well. It was th
e clue that Alec needed; he guessed exactly what the outlaw had done. The only question now was exactly where the outlaws would be waiting for them. Alec needed more information.

  He halted his horse. ‘Wait here an’ stay out of sight,’ he instructed, dismounting.

  He heard Lacey dismounting too as he made his way cautiously to the edge of the trees and looked out along the gulch. Carefully studying the landscape, Alec compared it to what he’d seen from the top of the spur earlier, trying to work out where the bandits might be, and how to continue on without being seen. There was a patch of trees ahead where the gulch curved the other way, and he recalled another one where it opened out into the main park.

  There were no tracks he could see in the snow, no indication that the bandits had even come this far up the gulch after them. Alcott was smart; he’d pick the narrowest part of the gulch to lay in wait for his quarry. In which case, he was probably in that nearer patch of trees. Alec studied the ground again, before moving. Using all the cover he could find, he gradually got closer to the cluster of pines, aspens and scrub. A little over one hundred yards away he had to halt, hidden by a shallow hollow in the ground and some scrubby silverberry bushes. Staring at the trees, he tried to pick out shapes within them. Alec couldn’t tell if he were imagining movement, or glimpses of colour. Then he suddenly heard O’Leary’s wild laugh. The bandits were there, and not too far away either.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Moving as cautiously as before, Alec worked his way back to Lacey and told her what he’d discovered.

  ‘We’ll go back a ways and make our own camp,’ he told her. ‘Once it gets dark we can light a fire an’ have something hot to eat and drink. We’ll rest up, and sneak past them afore dawn.’

  ‘Couldn’t we wait until they give up and go away?’ Lacey asked. ‘We left them the money from the train; surely they won’t stay another full day. Won’t there be lawmen from Leadville out searching for them now?’

 

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