The Reckoning

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by Mike Torreano


  Suddenly, Rain Water pushed past the sentries and stood before her. “I will tie your mouth shut if you do not stop.” He waited for her response. When she continued yelling into the night, he moved toward her with a headband. Only when he brought the cloth in contact with her face did she stop screaming.

  “Shame on you, Rain Water. You have killed an old man who once was your friend. That’s what your chief said. Are you so afraid of an old man that you need many braves to strike him down? Are you so afraid of a bent, aged man?” Sue shook as she spat the words at him, out of control. “Why did you save my life if you are now killing my people? If you intend to kill me too, then do it now, while I stand staring unafraid into your eyes.”

  Rain Water stood like a statue before her, his eyes ablaze. “I do not…”

  Sue cut him off. “If you have any honor left, show me where he is, so I can pay my last respects.”

  Rain Water stood motionless for a moment and stared down at the white woman who challenged him. He gestured to one of the sentries with his rifle, and to Kiska. “Take her to him.” He glared at Sue, then turned on his heel and disappeared among the swarm of tents.

  Kiska said, “You rest now. We can go in morning, no hurry. Lie down, get stronger.”

  “We will go now. Please just let me lean on you.”

  Kiska spoke to the sentry in rapid Ute, and he pointed to the nearby low hills. Kiska spoke again, and soon he reappeared with a pony and helped lift Sue onto it. Her outburst had taken its toll, and Sue slumped as the horse bumped over rough ground toward Buster’s resting place. She held a hand to her side as the horse headed for the dugouts. It took nearly half an hour to reach the low rises where the tribe stored foodstuffs and other essentials for seeing them through the winter. There were several large openings in the sides of the knolls, with slanted coverings made of rough wood to keep animals out.

  When they arrived at the storehouses, Sue eased down off the pony. Kiska held Sue’s arm to steady her, and Sue stumbled toward the nearest of several covered openings. The guard pointed at another entrance.

  Kiska leaned close. “That is where all who die go until burial. He is inside.” The brave unhooked a looped length of hemp rope that held the wooden door shut and swung it open wide.

  There was Buster, flat on his back, arms spread wide to each side, as if crucified. His head lolled to the side, and he was filthy. The cave had a powerful odor that came from Buster’s clothes, or sweat, or something else. Sue pinched her nose and entered. Kiska helped her sit next to Buster.

  “Please bring me those cleaning cloths we brought. I won’t have him buried looking like this. He deserves better.” She took a rag from Kiska and started wiping Buster’s face with it when she heard a faint groan. She leaned back, startled. “My God, he’s alive! He’s alive!” She bent closer again and held an ear near Buster’s mouth. “Buster, Buster, can you hear me?”

  Another small groan.

  Sue motioned to Kiska and the brave. “Get him onto that carrier, and let’s get him back to the village.” The Indian backed away, arms straight out in front of him, and spoke rapidly to the Indian woman.

  Kiska said, “He says this man came back from dead—bad medicine. He won’t take him back to the people.”

  “Damn!” Her eyes blazed at the warrior. “Then I will care for him here. Bring me fresh linens from the village and medicine from your shaman. I will stay with him. Now go.”

  “I am not allowed to leave you.”

  Sue shouted as loud as she could. “I’m not going to escape. Get going!” She waved both of them away and turned her attention to the motionless man beside her. Sue surveyed the damage as best she could in the dark cave. She continued to wipe at Buster’s face, loosening dirt and pebbles and washing them away. Dried blood still hid the worst of his wounds, and as she cleaned further, she shuddered to think what was underneath. Even in the dim light, the retreating crusts of brown revealed angry red skin around deep, open cuts on his face.

  Buster moaned faintly as Sue cleaned him up. She said, “Buster, what are you doing here?”

  He opened his eyes, but they still looked like slits. His halting reply came out slowly, in between labored breaths. “Came…to…find you.” Buster’s eyes rolled up, and his head fell to the side again.

  Sue pressed her ear to his chest and heard a weak heartbeat. “Thank heavens.” She turned to Kiska standing nearby. “I need more water, and bring me a blanket.” As Kiska ran back toward the village, Sue shouted after her. “And a potion from your shaman!”

  Sue stripped the dirty shirt off an unconscious Buster. Better that he was a little cold than those cuts on his chest get infected. She put a hand to her side as she struggled to get his sleeves off. Other than red welts and bruises, she couldn’t see much to tend to on his torso. How badly he was hurt inside, she didn’t know.

  Kiska returned with a brave trailing behind, carrying a blanket, water, and a small jar of dark liquid. Moonlight cast eerie shadows around the cave as Kiska moved around inside. Sue dipped her dirty rag into the water again and again, until she finally dropped it on the dugout floor. “I can’t do this anymore.” Her vision blurred, and Buster vanished.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ike paced inside the boarding house after dinner. He rubbed at his forehead and squinted at nothing in particular as he did. Rob and the professor sipped Margaret’s attempt at coffee. This was the second night Buster hadn’t joined them for the evening meal, and Ike had a bad feeling.

  The professor watched Ike pace. “I’m sure Buster is fine; he has shown an ability to take care of himself very well in difficult circumstances.”

  Ike shook his head. “He’d be here if he was okay. I’m goin’ lookin’ for him in the morning. You all are welcome to join me if you care to.”

  They were discussing the idea when Margaret came in from tending to Lorraine in the back bedroom. “She wants to see you, Ike.”

  Ike strode to the back of the house. It gave him something to do to take his mind off Buster. He peeked into his old bedroom. “Ma’am?”

  “Don’t you be ma’am-ing me, Ike McAlister.” Lorraine’s voice was weak, but steady. “I heard you say you’re goin’ out in the mornin’ after Buster. Don’t you think you oughta let that shoulder heal up more? You aren’t strong enough yet to be ridin’ around helter skelter in these mountains.”

  “I’m a fast healer, and I won’t be gone long. I’ll find Buster pretty quick. My guess is he went after Sue, so if I can find Buster, hopefully I’ll find her.” Ike wasn’t convinced of that himself.

  “So you think Buster’s been trailin’ after Sue? What makes you think that?”

  “Why else would he have set out for the mountains? I think Buster followed up on that clue Kelly gave us, and may have found somethin’ he thinks will lead him to her.”

  “Well, why’d he take off all alone then?”

  “Maybe he’s sick and tired of bein’ sick and tired. I think he wants to show us, and himself, that he ain’t as bad as he thinks he is. Findin’ Sue would help him do that. Anyway, I’ll be back soon.” Ike could tell from Lorraine’s expression that she didn’t believe that.

  She didn’t say anything about it though. “Come over here and sit with me a spell, cowboy, so’s I don’t start thinkin’ you don’t like me anymore.” Ike sat on the side of the bed. “Margaret tells me somethin’s been eatin’ at you. What is it? Have you heard anything more about Sue?”

  “No, no, I haven’t.” He gazed out the bedroom window.

  “You’re worried about Buster too now, aren’t you?”

  Ike said a simple, “Yes.”

  “You know Buster can take care of himself. I’m sure he’ll turn up in the morning, you’ll see. Now chat with me before I fall asleep again.”

  Ike reached down and kissed her lightly on the forehead, as if he was afraid she’d break. But she drifted off before he could think of something to say. Besides, it was past time for talk.

/>   In the morning, he was up before dawn broke over a towering Pikes Peak to the east. He came downstairs and tiptoed into the kitchen for a quick breakfast. Rob and the professor were already there, waiting.

  “Sit down, big brother, and have some of this ham and eggs. I have a feeling we’re gonna need some good eats to hold us over on the trail.”

  “Sounds like you two are plannin’ on goin’ with me.”

  Rob said, “We wouldn’t be up this early if we weren’t, so hurry and finish up. Time’s a wastin’.”

  The professor dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “I am in agreement with that, Ike. You better get a move on if you want to ride with us today. See, I’m talking your lingo, I think, is the word.” Then he added, “Let’s vamoose,” which drew stares from both Ike and Rob.

  “Vamoose?” Rob shook his head. “Nobody says ‘vamoose’ anymore. You should have just stopped at ‘get a move on.’ ”

  The professor looked a little sheepish. “Yes, well, all in the right spirit.”

  Ike downed a second cup of coffee, snugged his hat on, and spied three burlap bags that sat on the small kitchen table. Margaret had set aside some provisions for them. How she guessed that all three were going, Ike didn’t know. Maybe she couldn’t cook worth a hoot, but her heart was in the right place, and she was taking good care of Lorraine. He read a scribbled note from her. “Good luck, and bring Buster and hopefully Sue back safely.” As he left the kitchen, Ike stuck his head into Lorraine’s bedroom for a quick peek. Lorraine and her nurse were both still asleep.

  Ike led the way out of the boarding house. “Let’s go, we’re burnin’ daylight.” He buttoned his coat up snug around his neck and headed for the stable in the dim early morning light. When he’d saddled Ally, he wheeled her back outside and was met by a gorgeous orange sunrise. It lit the eastern sky up and cast a pale pink hue on the mountains to the west. The direction they were headed.

  Ike wasn’t exactly sure where to search for Buster, but instinct told him that he had probably headed west. Ike figured he must have gone up in the mountains where he knew the terrain well. The three made their way toward the small town of Fairplay, about fifteen miles distant, a fairly new mining town which lay on ground slightly higher than the South Park basin floor. Ike inquired in several different stores, but it appeared no one matching Buster’s description had come through town recently. Buster must have stuck to the hills. Code of the west be damned; he should have made Buster tell him where he was going. The three spent the rest of that day and the next scouring the hills and meadows to the south of Fairplay, looking for any sign of recent riders. They dragged back to Cottonwood late.

  Ike checked on Lorraine and stayed to tell her of their roamings. She had better color in her face, but her voice was still puny. “I think you’re sniffin’ in the right place, the mountains,” she said. “That’s all Buster ever knew before he came to town. He came out here as a young man from somewhere back East, but I don’t know any reason he’d want to go back that direction, so he must have gone west.”

  Ike stared out the filmy window. “There’s a lot of mountains out there. We’ll just have to keep on lookin’ and hopin’.”

  Margaret had a hot dinner on the table and bustled between the small dining room and the kitchen. “I made you boys something special tonight—roast chicken. I bribed one of the wives in town with a new hat for several chickens. She was all atwitter—that’s why you’re lookin’ at the best meal you’re likely to see for a while. I only have so many hats I’m prepared to part with.”

  During the meal, Margaret hovered over Rob as she served the men. She prompted him with, “How do you like the range chicken, Rob?”

  Rob looked up from his gobbling. “I think this is the best meal I’ve had since I been out here, Miss Margaret.”

  A slight flush on Margaret’s neck showed how his compliment had been received. She drew a hand back and forth over her lacy collar, and smiled. “I have another treat for you all tonight, as well.” She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with an overbaked apple pie. “The lady I traded the hat with offered up some apples as well. I haven’t made many pies, but this one looks like it turned out all right.”

  The three men dug into their slices but didn’t respond right away as it took them a while to work their way through the piecrust. After repeated “thank you ma’am’s,” the men moved to the parlor with Margaret’s latest version of coffee in hand.

  The professor spoke up first. “I think we need some kind of a system if we’re to find Buster’s whereabouts. We can’t just go gallivanting into the mountains day after day hoping we’ll run across him.”

  Rob nodded. “I agree, but I don’t see how we’re gonna narrow things down.”

  Ike said, “Let’s think for a minute. What do we know about Buster? He was a mountain man for years, and he took settlers through the mountains on their way west. We know he stopped at trading posts as he led newcomers through the passes, ’cause of that wretched story he told.”

  “That’s right.” The professor rose out of his seat. “What I would suggest we do is to pack in to some of the trading posts up into the mountains. I think ‘pack in’ is the right term, is it not?”

  “It’s the right term, Professor,” Ike said. “Looks like we got some gettin’ ready to do. May take up to a week to get to several different posts and return. We can’t carry that much food, so we’ll have to live off the land too. Make sure you take enough ammunition, and pack warm. In the morning, let’s head over to O’Toole’s place to provision up.”

  Rob started pacing. “How we gonna find out where the trading posts are up in the high country?”

  “We’ll just have to stop at settlements on the way, and get directions. Let’s get some shut-eye. We got hard ridin’ ahead of us.” Ike was already heading back to Lorraine’s bedroom as he spoke.

  Lorraine was waiting up for him. She lay propped up, several pillows raising her head off the bed. Margaret had given her hair a nice brushing out. “Hello, cowboy. Find out anything new today?” When she saw the frown on Ike’s face, she dropped the teasing. “What’s the matter, Ike?”

  He stood by the bed and stared down at her. “It don’t seem like I’m gettin’ any closer to findin’ anything out about Sue. I keep gettin’ in these scrapes, but they don’t lead nowhere and don’t involve nothin’ but pain. And now, Buster’s missing.”

  Lorraine leaned toward him as well as she could. “Come sit by my side.”

  Ike eased himself down on the edge of the bed, taking care to move it as little as he could. “Whatever I’m doin’, it just ain’t workin’. I wonder what my folks must be thinkin’ of me, and how I haven’t been able to find their daughter. Nothing’s worked. I ain’t any closer to her than when I first came out here.”

  Lorraine moved her hand toward his and gave it a weak squeeze. “I have a feeling you’re getting closer to finding her all the time. That everything that seems like it’s a dead end is leading you to her. That she’s waiting for you to find her, she’s willing you toward her, and that somehow Buster is involved in all of it. That’s why it’s so important for you to find him. I think finding him will lead you to her.”

  Ike stared over at her. “How did you get so smart? I have a feeling Buster’s the key too.” He paused. “Then again, maybe you’re not so smart, since you’re sittin’ here with a failure like me.”

  Lorraine pushed herself up to a higher sitting position and let out a small moan as she did so. She reached a hand out and grasped Ike’s chin as strongly as she could. “I don’t want to hear you say anything like that ever again. Because it’s not true. Do you understand me?”

  Ike nodded, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. He’d hardly ever had anyone say something nice to him. Life had been hard ever since he could remember. His eyes filled up, and he coughed. “Yes, ma’am.” He eased up off the bed and walked out.

  A hard trek with an uncertain ending lay ahead.
/>   Chapter Thirty

  In the morning, Ike, Rob, and the professor grabbed a quick cup of coffee and downed some burned bacon. They were heading for the front door when Ike stopped Rob.

  “Wait a minute. I been thinkin’. We ain’t likely to find Buster just ridin’ around to different trading posts day after day, even if we did find someone who might remember Buster from years ago, and where he liked to roam.”

  Rob interrupted. “What’re you sayin’, Ike? You ain’t sayin’ we should just give up, are you?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m sayin’. What I mean is we need to consider what we know. Remember what that jackass Kelly said about Sue just before he died? He told us where the last place he saw her was. Maybe we ought to start there and see if it leads us somewhere, ’stead of just ridin’ around and hopin’.” He took another sip of weak coffee, then scowled. It was definitely Margaret’s handiwork.

  The professor weighed in. “A good idea, Ike. Perhaps there’ll be a clue there that we could follow.”

  Ike led the way toward the mercantile. He pounded on the door until O’Toole came down half-dressed from upstairs.

  “Whadda you boys want?” he yelled from inside, as he rubbed at his whiskers.

  Ike kicked the door. “Open up, O’Toole. We need some provisioning.”

  “But it ain’t even six o’clock yet.”

  “We know what time it is. Best you open up—we’re comin’ in one way or the other.”

  O’Toole unlocked the door and opened it for the three men.

  Ike pushed past O’Toole, who stepped aside as the other two entered, and the three men spread out in the store. When they’d found everything they’d talked about needing, Ike brought the goods over to the counter where O’Toole leaned, half-awake. The proprietor tallied up the bill with bleary eyes. As he did, his expression changed to a pleased one.

 

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