Buscadero

by Bill Brooks

  They all laughed and hugged one another and for a single instant forgot the danger.

  “Well, this looks damn near like a party!” came the voice. Katie was the first to turn.

  “Johnny!”

  “That’s right, darling. Ol’ Johnny’s come back for you. It sure as sugar looks like I wasn’t missed one dern bit.”

  Pete Winter stood.

  The outlaw leveled his gaze toward the lawman.

  “I’ve come back, ranger. I’ve come back for her. No damn way in hell was I gonna let you have her. What in the hell would she do with someone like you, anyway.”

  He thumbed the hammer back on the pistol.

  “I won’t go with you, Johnny. You’ll have to kill me first!”

  “I can do better’n that, little Miss. I’ll shoot your boy friend and them other two, then I’ll do whatever in the hell I choose to do with you!”

  He took aim at the ranger.

  Katie stepped in front of Pete.

  “Don’t, Johnny! Don’t do it!”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because ... because I’m asking you not to. Let them alone and I’ll leave with you.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Katie,” warned Pete.

  “Shut your mouth, boy!” ordered the outlaw. “Come on ahead then, gal, climb up on the back of this animal and we’ll ride out and leave them be.”

  She felt Pete’s hand on her arm.

  “Let me go,” she said softly.

  “Katie?”

  Her eyes implored him.

  “He’ll kill everyone if I don’t,” she said. There was no doubting it. He watched as she mounted on behind the outlaw.

  The mare did a little sidestep at the extra weight.

  “You sure do lead a charmed life, lawman. It’s the second time this woman has saved your bacon. We ever run up against each other again, I’ll make sure she’s not around to protect you.”

  Johnny Montana dug his heels into the mare and slapped it with the reins, plunging it down the slope and toward the river.

  He did it without thinking.

  Not until mid-stream when the water rushed up past his boots, did Johnny Montana realize his mistake, a realization brought on by an old fear—drowning.

  He fought the horse’s head around in order to return to shore.

  Billy Bear Killer had retrieved his shotgun, and in a confused and angry state, took aim at the fleeing outlaw. Pete Winter slapped the barrels upward just as he fired both barrels.

  “You’ll hit Katie!”

  Some of the buckshot lifted the hat off Johnny Montana’s head and left him confused. He saw the old man holding the shotgun on the shoreline, cursed and fought the horse to turn back into the river.

  “That dang river’s full of quicksand!” warned Billy.

  Henry Dollar’s attention was drawn by the booming report of Billy’s shotgun. He saw a man and woman on horseback struggling in the river. He saw too, the people on the far side: two men and a woman. One of the men he recognized: Pete Winter!

  He did his best to organize his thoughts. Everything inside him felt busted up from being tossed from the horse.

  The water had risen to their waists and then had begun to recede. Johnny Montana felt that luck was with him even though the water felt cold, like ice, like needles piercing his skin.

  “Hang on, darling! This is one time when ol’ Johnny beats the river!”

  The mare had ridden up onto a sandbar, but then quickly sunk in to its chest, setting panic within the animal’s brain.

  The horse began to struggle furiously, its screams rending the air, the quicksand securing its hold all the more so with the flailing efforts.

  Katie let out a soft cry of fear, and Johnny cursed, and then they were both pitched off the horse and into the river.

  In an instant, Pete and Billy grabbed a rope from the wagon and plunged into the river.

  “I cannot swim with one arm, Billy!”

  “I larned when I was a babe,” said Billy. “Give me the rope.”

  Henry Dollar saw that the mare was trapped and drowning in the river. He lifted the Creedmore and laid it across the bounty hunter’s saddle.

  He had no choice. He took aim, squeezed the trigger and ended the struggle of the horse.

  Katie swam agains the force pulling her downstream. She saw Billy swimming toward her, a rope looped over his shoulders.

  “Hang on, sis,” shouted Billy.

  Johnny Montana flailed his arms, felt the river pulling him under, swallowed mouthfuls of the muddy water.

  Billy could see that Katie was making headway toward the near shore and so he came and swam alongside her until they reached the shallows and could stand. Pete was already making his way down the shoreline towards them.

  A terrible scream came from the river. They saw the head of the outlaw bobbing up and down, disappearing, reappearing, and then, finally, he surfaced no more.

  In silent dreadful witness, Katie remembered Johnny’s premonition. It had been the only thing that he had ever been right about.

  Pete and Billy half-carried her back to the wagon. Sister McKnight wrapped Katie and Billy in blankets and built a fire for them to sit by. Pete stood guard with Billy’s shotgun just in case the shooter across the other side decided to come on.

  It was late afternoon when they heard the crack of a pistol shot. Pete glanced around the wagon. What he saw startled him.

  There, sitting astride a big dun, was Henry Dollar.

  Pete stepped back from behind the wagon and came to stand at the water’s edge. Cupping his hand to his mouth, he shouted:

  “Henry?”

  The lawman nodded.

  “Henry. What the hell took you so long?”

  The man walked his horse into the river and crossed over.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  They hitched the dun to the wagon and made their way to Mormon Springs. Five survivors who drew the stares and curiosity of the locals. Five survivors who didn’t mind so much.

  Sister McKnight and Billy Bear Killer bid a fond farewell to Katie, Pete, and Henry Dollar. And after their hugs and kisses and handshakes, Sister made each of them take a bottle of her Sorrowful Plains Elixir for their continued good health.

  Sitting in a physician’s office waiting for their wounds to be attended to, Henry said: “We look a sight.”

  “Wouldn’t hardly know that we are the ones that came out ahead, looking at the two of us,” said Pete.

  “We need to talk, Pete.”

  “What about, Henry?”

  “About the lady.”

  “If you already know, what’s there to talk about.”

  “What’re you planning on doing about her? About yourself?”

  “I’m not taking her to Ft. Smith, Henry.”

  “Well, it’s your call, son. You’ve thought this thing through?”

  “As through as I can. The way I figure it, Henry, is that she saved my life a couple of times. That ought to be worth some consideration.”

  “We could both testify in her behalf if she does decide to stand trial. I reckon if we both testified, that might carry some weight. If not, we could bust her out of jail.”

  “You think Texas boys would stand a tinker’s chance in an Arkansas court?”

  “Might. You could always ask her what it is she wants.”

  “I have a pretty good idea already. She’s a righteous woman, in spite of everything.”

  “Then maybe you ought to let her do what she thinks is best for herself.”

  “I do that, and old Judge Parker is liable to hang her. I can’t see it that way.”

  “There comes a time in each of us when we have to do what we think is best for ourselves. You go to influencing that gal with what it is you want for her—well, it seems from the story you told me, that’s the sort of thing she had with Johnny Montana.”

  “You think I ought to take her to Arkansas if that is what she wants?”

  “I’
m sure it’s not what she wants,” said Henry. “But, it might be what she feels she needs to do in order to live with herself.”

  “I reckon I need to have a talk with her then.”

  “I reckon it might not hurt, Pete.”

  “And if she decides to go to trial?”

  “Then we’ll all catch the stage and go back together. I’ll wire the Captain and tell him the story. Maybe he could throw his hat in the ring with us if it comes to having to testify for your young lady.”

  “Then I’ll go talk to her.”

  Judge Isaac Parker had a face that looked like Judgement Day: a broad flat forehead, eyes like bullets, a mouth as grim as perdition.

  “Young lady,” he announced in a stentorious voice. “Upon hearing the testimony of these Texas Rangers and that given by your own hand, and in light of the facts as they are now known, and furthermore, in consideration of your role in saving the life of one of these officers, I find that putting you behind bars would serve this court and its jurisdiction no good purpose. I hereby find you innocent of the charges filed against you in the slaying of State’s Senator Willard Gray.”

  The jurist paused to mop his brow with a large blue silk kerchief.

  “This weather is an abomination,” he declared. “Miss Swensen, you are free to go. But, I must caution you, that not everyone in this territory may agree with my decision. Therefore it is my advice that you take your leave of this territory as soon as is convenient for you to do so.” He tapped the gavel twice and dismissed his presence from the courtroom.

  Pete and Katie and Henry walked outside

  “Well,” said Henry. “I’d just as soon get back across the river and into Texas. What are your plans?”

  “We’ve not discussed it fully,” said Pete. “But, I believe we’ll be getting married. After that, I always favored the country up around Smiley, over in Gonzales County. It’d be a good place to run a few head of cows. Something Katie and me could handle together.”

  “First, I want us to go and visit my papa back in Alabama,” said Katie. “I have things I need to tell him, things I need to apologize for.”

  “I hope you’re planning on inviting me and the Captain to the wedding,” said Henry. “The Captain’ll have your skin if you went ahead and took a bride without his being there.”

  “You’ll let him know, Henry?”

  “Yeah, when I get back myself.”

  “Trouble?”

  “No, I’ve just got some unfinished business to take care of back up around Tascosa. I need to see a lady there. I reckon that’s where I am bound soon’s I can pick up a good saddle horse.”

  “You could catch a stage or one of the trains.”

  “Could, but I’d rather sit a horse. I’ll have a chance to stop where I want, rest where I want, and have all the privacy I want. It’ll take me longer, but I reckon I can use the time to think out what I need to.”

  They shook hands. Henry said, “I’d like to drop by on occasion after you get that spread of yours going—you know, just to look in on you ever now and then.”

  “I’d consider it an insult if you didn’t, Henry.”

  “And so would I,” said Katie.

  “Well then, this is so long for now. I’ll see you back in Texas sometime soon.”

  Two hours later, as they waited for the stage to arrive, Pete Winter and Katie Swensen saw Henry Dollar riding out of Ft. Smith on a big buckskin. In spite of his injuries, he rode tall and straight, without a slump. Another thing they noticed was the fancy saddle and rig he had bought for the horse.

  The saddle may have been fancy but the rider was not.