North to the Salt Fork

by Ralph Compton

  “So will I,” Jack spoke over his shoulder.

  The dirty-faced girl, with her hair full of sticks and straw, came hurrying down the slope toward him. He wondered how she could walk barefoot across the ground, which was covered in stickers. Her state of undress appeared to be of no concern to her.

  “Is my mother still alive?” she asked as he covered her nakedness with the blanket poncho.

  “Yes. I sent her home two days ago.” He made a check to see that they were alone.

  Tears of relief welled in her eyes. “That’s good.”

  “Come. I want to get you back to my men.” He was still worried about being out in the open. He could only hope that her captors were too busy gathering the body of their dead chief, which the rangers had laid out in front of their “bunker” on the shore of the dried-up lake.

  “Do you have many men?” she asked, stepping around a cactus bed.

  “Two. You may even know them. It’ll be nice for you to be around familiar faces.”

  She nodded, tight-lipped.

  He looked back over his shoulder, his muscles itching. Any moment he expected a bullet in his back.

  “They must have gotten their chief,” he said under his breath more to himself than to her.

  “He’s Ten Bears’ son—the real chief. They’re worried he’ll blame them for his death, that they didn’t do enough to save him and kill you.”

  Jack nodded, impressed at her words. “For someone in such a sticky situation, it’s amazing how much you managed to figure out.”

  She lowered her blue eyes and nodded. “Some of the things I learned wasn’t that good.”

  Jack tipped her chin up. “I’m sorry. We came as soon as we could.”

  “Thank you . . .”

  “Captain Jack Starr.”

  She swallowed. “Captain Starr.”

  “It’s no matter, Mandy,” he said, giving her shoulder a little reassuring squeeze.

  “Men,” he announced as the two boys swept off their hats for her. “Say hello to Mandy Lerner. Mandy, you might know Jangles and Cotton.”

  She nodded. “Thank you for coming for me.”

  “You’re sure welcome, ma’am,” Jangles said.

  “Yeah, you really are welcome,” Cotton echoed.

  Both young men looked at a loss for words. Jack could tell they were shocked she wasn’t a raving idiot. Despite her disheveled appearance, she was perfectly poised.

  “What now?” Cotton asked.

  “She can ride double behind you,” Jack said. “Load up—we’re going back. We’ve done all we could here.”

  They rode all night, posting one man guard when they finally stopped, just in case the Comanches changed their minds. Jack took watch for the last two hours. Sitting cross-legged on his bedroll he listened to the gentle night winds and insects. There was a lot on his plate. They were several days from the girl’s home—no doubt burned down. On top of that the matters of the state police and murder charges against him needed to be settled. Thank God he’d met Lucille Thornton. She was the only thing holding him together.

  Other women had swept in and out of his life before her, and he hadn’t batted an eye. But Lucille was different. He didn’t want to lose this one, but he had so little to offer her. Had he spent the past years since his discharge establishing a ranch or business, he’d have nothing to worry about.

  A nearby coyote let out a mournful howl and Mandy came over, huddled in her poncho against the predawn chill. “May I sit here, Captain?”

  “Sure. That old sundog won’t hurt you. He’s just looking for the rest of his pack. They’ll find each other and sleep the hot day away.”

  She lowered her head. “I thought it might be the Comanches coming back.”

  He shifted the rifle in his arms. “I think they’ve moved on.”

  She nodded and they sat together in silence until they heard Jangles and Cotton stir.

  For breakfast they drank fresh coffee and ate boiled cornmeal and gruel with brown sugar. Still sleepy-eyed, they climbed in the saddle before dawn and prepared for another tough day of riding. Jack rationed the corn the horses received so it would last. But between the barely potable gyp water and lack of forage, their mounts grew weaker with each long day.

  Dead tired in late afternoon, they reined up on a ridge. Below them was a large construction crew building a sprawling ranch headquarters near a thicket of cotton-woods. Several dozen men scurried around doing this and that. There were stacks of bright, fresh-cut lumber, to which the workers added plank after plank, while row after row of adobe bricks were drying in the sun. Hammers clapping and saws whining, the operation looked impressive.

  Jack rode in the lead toward them and met a redcomplexioned man mopping his sweaty face with a large handkerchief.

  “Good day, sir,” Jack said, tipping his hat. “I’m Captain Jack Starr.”

  “Windy Hardy’s my name. What are you and these children doing out here?”

  “We’re rangers. We’ve been chasing down Comanches and returning captives.”

  Hardy nodded slow-like. “Well, I wouldn’t turn away heroes. Welcome to the Wagon Bar Ranch. I’m the general superintendent here. You-all get off your horses; you look plumb tired to me. Ramon”—he waved to a Mexican boy to come over—“fix these boys’ horses up and then I’ll take ’em to the chow hall.”

  He turned back to Jack. “You three and the young lady come with me.”

  At the chow hall, one of Hardy’s helpers presented Mandy with a hairbrush, and thanking him she combed through the tangles and tried to make herself look as presentable as possible. Despite all her trials, she remained self-possessed.

  “Whose ranch is this?” Jack asked Hardy.

  “Feabius T. Newcastle’s.”

  “I don’t guess he ever comes around?”

  Hardy smiled. “It’s real long ways out here. He’s a rich tycoon who lives in New York.”

  “How many men are working here, Mr. Hardy?”

  “Seventy-eight, but ten more are due here in a month.”

  “Sleep with your guns. The Comanches are still out there.”

  Hardy scoffed at him. “They wouldn’t dare raid this place.”

  “Comanches will do a lot of things you don’t expect.”

  “I’ll try to be ready for them.”

  Jack knew the superintendent felt too secure with all those mechanics and craftsmen on the premises. But a raid could, and in Jack’s book would, happen before summer was over. Way out here, Hardy would sure learn the tough way.

  The coffee that the crew cook served tasted wonderful. Mandy ordered pancakes, as did Jack.

  They recounted the details of Mandy’s recovery to Hardy. Hardy shook his head in disbelief at several points during the story. “You boys sure did good work. Thankfully, I haven’t seen an Indian on this ranch since we arrived here.”

  “I’d bet a hundred dollars they’ve seen you. They can stay hidden better than anyone,” Jack said, pressing the issue.

  “If you and two boys could take them on they must be dandy fighters,” Hardy said with a chuckle.

  “That doesn’t say as much about the Comanches as it does about my boys. We took on a band of Mexican horse thieves and laid them to rest just as well.”

  “So that’s you boys, huh? I’ve heard about you,” Hardy said, the realization dawning on his face.

  Jack was pleased to hear that Hardy had heard of their travails, but could see that no amount of talking would persuade the superintendent that he was susceptible to attack.

  They ate their meal quickly and rested. Hardy assigned Mandy a room of her own in some temporary quarters, had bathwater drawn for her and apologized for the fact he had no females to help her. Jack and the boys were assigned hammocks to sleep in.

  After sundown, Jack and his crew ate supper with the men. A young man played the fiddle for their entertainment, and the barbecued beef, sourdough bread and beans filled Jack’s belly for the first time in more
than a week.

  “I suppose you’ll have to go on in the morning?” Hardy asked.

  “I might stay here a year or two and eat your grub,” Jangles said, rubbing his belly. They all laughed.

  “We appreciate your hospitality, but we do need to move on,” Jack said. “I’m surprised my two men who rode back this way earlier didn’t find you.”

  “I’ve not seen hide nor hair of anyone else,” Hardy admitted. Jack hoped they had made it back alright.

  He thanked Hardy again and the fiddler played more music. While the strains of fiddle music floated around them, Jack thought about the construction work going on around them. Hardy’s team was erecting a great house, large horse barns and hay sheds, the kind that were popular in the East but would be of little use in West Texas. But it wasn’t Jack’s place or money to worry about.

  The next morning, loaded up with food and fresh supplies, they mounted and rode their rested horses out at dawn. Their spirits lifted, they made many miles and were fast approaching home. After two days in the saddle they reached the fort at San Angelo. A colonel at the fort, who could hardly believe their story of Mandy’s recovery, invited them to rest and fed them a large meal. The officers’ wives found Mandy a new dress to replace her poncho and held a small dance that night to celebrate.

  In all this no one reported seeing Craig, Arnold or Mrs. Lerner. How had Craig missed both the Wagon Bar and the army outpost? Jack was worried but gladly accepted when a lady named Mrs. Chapman asked him to dance a waltz with her.

  “You look like a very industrious man, Captain,” Mrs. Chapman said good-naturedly. The story of Mandy’s recovery had circulated throughout the entire fort.

  “Well, I didn’t really have a choice. The boys forced me into it.”

  She laughed, then covered her mouth to suppress her amusement. “You’re either modest or a liar. I don’t know which one I like more.”

  Jack detected a flirty tone in her voice. He knew she was married, but that didn’t seem to keep her from pulling him closer.

  She lowered her voice to a husky whisper and leaned forward. “My husband’s a major. He’s currently on patrol in that disgusting dust and scrub brush. If you were discreet we could find some mutual company in my quarters later this evening.”

  Jack’s back stiffened. His thoughts immediately flew to Lucille. “Thank you, Mrs. Chapman, but I’m gonna have to decline.”

  “Be sure before you decide, Captain Jack. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  He looked down into her baby blue eyes, which were sparkling with mirth. “I’ll be moving out real early in the morning,” he said slowly. “I have to get back. People are counting on me.” The waltz ended just then and he pulled away and tipped his hat graciously. Mrs. Chapman, looking embarrassed, nodded and hastily departed. Jack smiled to himself. He was definitely a one-woman man.

  The next morning they were on the road again. Word soon spread that they were returning with the girl. A large group of settlers met them the next evening at the San Saba River crossing. They were cooking beefsteaks to celebrate. Word came to Jack that Mandy’s uncle had ridden out to see about her.

  Anxious for news, Jack asked the uncle about Mandy’s mother.

  “Ah, they brought her back a week ago. But”—the man lowered his voice—“she’s raving mad. They had a mighty rough time getting her back.”

  Jack nodded. They must’ve been avoiding the ranch and camp. “What about my rangers?”

  “I think the trip really upset the older one. He wouldn’t talk hardly at all—just rode on home.”

  “Was Arnold alright?”

  “I guess so.”

  Jack was frustrated that the man didn’t have more to tell him.

  “Mandy’s pretty spunky, ain’t she?” the uncle said, leaning on his Kentucky rifle and fondly watching his niece as she played with some of the other children gathered there.

  “She’s a strong young woman,” Jack said.

  “Damn shame she ain’t pure anymore.”

  Struck by the man’s words, Jack frowned at him. “Don’t even say what you’re thinking.”

  The uncle reddened. “Well, you don’t have to get all huffy about it. We know she’s been out there with them bucks—”

  Jack balled his hands into fists. “Get away from me before I blow you to kingdom come.”

  “Well, I never—” the uncle tried to retort, but he saw the look on Jack’s face and scampered away.

  Jangles got up and came over. “What made you so mad at him, Captain?”

  “Some people make it sound like that girl went with those Indians of her own free will.”

  Jangles shook his head. “I hear that. There’s all kinds of gossip about her out here.”

  “It’s a damn shame. A real damn shame. Maybe you have to come back without your mind to gain any sympathy.”

  “So, what did he say about Sergeant Craig?” Jangles said, wanting to change the subject.

  “Said he thought Sergeant Craig was real upset about having to bring Mrs. Lerner back.”

  “It would have been a tough job.”

  “I’ll go see him when we get to Shedville.”

  “We’ll all go.”

  Jack frowned at him. “You boys—”

  “Captain, till we get your name cleared, us rangers are going everywhere with you.”

  Jack didn’t want to think about it. Less than two days’ ride away and they’d have her home, but his own life would be back in the quagmire. Damn.

  Chapter 10

  The entire Lost Dog Creek community turned out for them. Mandy’s father was on crutches, no doubt from wounds received during the raid. He hobbled out and hugged his girl. They both cried. On the road Jack had broken the news to Mandy that her mother suffered serious mental problems, a fact she took with a nod as she chewed on her lower lip. Jack wasn’t sure if she had spoken with her uncle back at the San Saba River. He suspected the man was there only for his own glory anyway.

  He dismounted and Cotton collected his reins. Somewhere in the crowd was Lucy Thornton. He looked expectantly for her face among the others, but instead he spotted Luke on his crutches. Smiling ear to ear, Jack covered the distance between them with great strides.

  “Maw’s working on putting out the food back there,” Luke said, motioning to where the women were laying out a delicious feast. “Said you might want to see her.”

  “Might? I think it’s more than ‘might.’ ”

  “She said that, not me.”

  “Lead the way. How’s everyone?”

  “Doing fine. We’ve sure been worried about you ever since Craig came back.”

  “He tell you I was fine?”

  Luke stopped to catch his breath and shook his head. “He ain’t talking much. I guess bringing that Lerner woman back shook him.”

  “Seen him today around here?” Jack looked but saw no sign of him.

  “No, sir.”

  “I’ll find him.”

  He looked up at the tables piled high with food, but all he could see was Lucille, who had her dress gathered up in her hand as she came running toward him. He caught her in his arms, swung her around like she was a feather and kissed her with no regrets.

  She swept the hair back from her face when he set her down. “I’m so glad you made it back safely. How are you feeling?” She studied him carefully. She must’ve heard about Craig, he figured.

  He held her tight. “I’m doing just fine. Glad to be back. How about you?”

  “Oh, I was so worried,” she said as she fussed with his vest.

  “Jack Starr?” a deep voice behind him asked.

  Lucille sucked in her breath.

  He let go of her and turned to face a short man with snow-white hair. “May I help you?”

  “Everett Hale, sir.” They shook hands.

  “What can I do for you?”

  Hale shook his head. “No, the question is, What can I do for you? I’m an attorney. I’ve been hired
to defend you.”

  Jack was taken aback. “Sorry, sir, but I can’t afford you.”

  “You aren’t paying me. There’s a private organization in the state set up to prepare the defense of leading sons of Texas who are being harassed and wrongfully charged by this carpetbagger government saddled upon us.”

  Jack shook his head. “I don’t hardly consider myself a leading son.”

  “Yes, you are, sir.” Hale said it in a firm voice no one could argue with.

  Jack nodded slowly. “Well, thank you very much, sir. What do you have in mind?”

  “I suspect we should remove you from these grounds.”

  “But this celebration is for him and his rangers,” Lucy interjected, her voice filled with disappointment.

  “I suspect they’ll bring a posse in here to make a big show of arresting him,” Hale said.

  “That could mean big trouble.” Jack knew what the consequences would be: a riot. It would just give them more ammunition to close their iron glove tighter on the state’s population.

  “We need to transport you to Austin so you may surrender to the authorities there and prepare for a proper trial. But I have to tell you, your chances of making it alive there from here are less than fifty-fifty.”

  Lucy was tight-lipped, but she nodded her head firmly. “We can’t afford to let them get near you, Jack. Mr. Hale, please arrange the trip for us,” she said, untying her apron. “Where will we meet you in the morning?”

  Hale blinked at her words and then recovered. “Sunup at the north edge of town. I’ll have a buckboard and six armed guards duly sworn in to take him to Austin.”

  “We’ll meet you there. Where’s your horse?’ she asked Jack.

  “He’s—”

  She guided him by the arm in the direction he pointed. “Luke can find his way home in the wagon. Mac’ll carry double, won’t he?”

  “I’m sure he will. But are you sure—”

  “I’m sure as anything. We’ll have one night together before they take you away.”

  When he found Mac he tightened the cinch. Seated in the saddle, he reached down and swung her up behind him. She must have caught a heel near his flank getting in place behind the cantle, for Mac humped his back.