Cheyenne Reckoning

by Vivi Holt

  “Cowpoke,” Thaddeus nodded a greeting.

  “Thaddeus,” replied Dan. “Wish it hadn’t come to this.”

  “You and me both.”

  Dan circled Thaddeus, knees bent, eyes fixed on the outlaw’s bearded face. Thaddeus mirrored his movements, each watching, waiting for the other to show his hand. Just before Thaddeus pulled the trigger, Dan dove for the ground, ducked his head and rolled through the grass to scramble behind the horses. The animals startled, tossing their heads and high-stepping backward.

  Thaddeus grabbed hold of their reins and followed Dan’s retreat. “Hey, cowpoke, don’t hide now. C’mon out and face me like a man. Where are ya, cowpoke?”

  Dan scrambled through the dark, knelt, took aim at Thaddeus and pulled the trigger on his Henry rifle, dropping the outlaw with one shot. Then he scanned the campsite for a sign of where Claudine and Gracie had run off to. No doubt they’d scattered when Thaddeus attacked, if not before.

  Come to think of it, where had that scoundrel of a sheriff gotten to? Not to mention Angus and his remaining henchman. He ran back to the campsite and spun around, his eyes wide. Some of the horses were gone, including Sam and Bolt. He heard a rustle in the grass and the jangle of a bit, and walked toward the sound, rifle aimed high. “Who’s there?” He spied Sheriff Fisher mounting his horse and took aim.

  The sheriff dropped his reins and raised his hands high. “Don’t shoot!”

  Dan kept the rifle trained on him. “Where ya off to, Sheriff?”

  The sheriff shrugged. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m goin’ back to town. Y’all can shoot it out between yourselves.”

  Dan frowned. “I’m not gonna end up on some wanted poster? Ya brought me out here, Fisher. If I find ya turned me or Claudine in, yer gonna have to watch your back the rest of yer life, ’cause I will be comin’ for ya.”

  The sheriff scoffed. “Don’t worry, Dan Graham, I won’t report ya. I never want to see ya again. In fact, I plan on leavin’ town first thing tomorrow. I’ve had enough of this place, and with Kellogg gone, ain’t no reason for me to stick around. He had a hold on me I couldn’t shake, but now I’m free to do as I please. And I intend to move on and make a fresh start someplace no one knows me. Heck, I might even raise hogs.” He grinned.

  “Where are Claudine and the girl?” asked Dan.

  “Hanged if I know – or care!” Fisher slapped the reins and shouted, “Hi-yaaaa!” His horse took off at a gallop toward Cheyenne.

  The first rays of the morning sun peeped over the horizon, casting a grayish light on the wide plains. Dan watched the sheriff ride away, took a slow breath and scanned the prairie for a sign, a movement, something to indicate where Claudine and Gracie were. Nothing. He shook his head. Time to start tracking – and hope he could find them before Angus O’Leary did.

  Claudine held onto Sam’s mane as the horses thundered along the trail, headed north. Angus rode behind her and Gracie, whipping their horses at intervals to keep them moving at a breakneck pace. A tear trailed down her cheek and was whipped away by the wind.

  While Dan was occupied with one of the thugs, Angus had forced her and Gracie onto their horses at gunpoint and ridden away with them. If Dan was alive, he’d wonder what had become of them. Could he have survived that? He was outnumbered and outgunned. Her heart ached at the thought of what might’ve become of him.

  Finally, the outlaw let them slow down, and the horses settled into a steady trot. She dashed her tears away with the back of her hand and sniffled into her sleeve.

  “Are you hurt, Mama?” asked Gracie, her own eyes red from crying.

  “No, honey, I’m not hurt. I’m just worried about Dan and about us, I guess.”

  Gracie nodded, then sighed loudly. “Yeah, me too. But don’t worry, Mama, we’ll make it out of this, just like we have before.”

  Claudine stared at her daughter in wonder. “Yes, we will, honey.”

  “Do you think those men are dead?” asked Gracie, her voice wavering.

  Claudine pursed her lips. “I don’t know, honey. Maybe.”

  Gracie sobbed and covered her mouth with a fist.

  “Ya two pipe down!” shouted Angus behind them. “I don’t wanna hear all that yammerin’. And none of yer cryin’, neither. I gotta think, and I can’t do it with all the noise ya two are makin’.”

  Claudine scowled with her back to Angus. How many times was this cad going to take her and her daughter prisoner? “Just let us go and you won’t have to hear us anymore. What do you need us for?” She knew she was taking a chance sassing a white man with a gun, but her exhaustion and anger were clouding her judgment.

  “That crazy Dan Graham’s after me. I need the two of ya around to keep him off my back. And ya’ll do as I say, or ya’ll wish you had.”

  “He’ll definitely come after you if you keep us.”

  “Don’t matter … he’s comin’ anyhow. Crimes of the past and such.” Angus’ voice fell to a mumble, something about a girl and her baby. Then he laughed hysterically before falling into a grim silence.

  Claudine knew what he was talking about – Dolly and Emily. She shivered and reached out her hand to Gracie, who took it and squeezed it, her eyes full of unshed tears.

  Dan stood and watched the sun rise over Wyoming. Overhead the stars and moon faded as the sky lightened in what seemed like a moment. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He needed rest and something to eat – he could hardly see straight after so many hours awake. But he could easily spot the tracks that indicated Claudine and Gracie had headed north with Angus O’Leary.

  Everything in him screamed to go after them, to hunt Angus down and set them free. But he knew Angus had the upper hand. If he gave chase, Angus might run them at a headlong pace and put their lives in danger. Perhaps he should try to get some sleep first. He needed Angus to get comfortable, to believe he was home free. That might give Claudine and Gracie a chance to slow down, maybe even turn the tables on him – Claudine was certainly capable of that. Time was on Dan’s side.

  That is, if Angus didn’t plan to kill them. But Dan didn’t think he would – he’d have traveled faster without them, yet he’d taken them anyway. He was using them as insurance, keeping them alive until he was sure he was safe. Yeah, he’d give Angus some space, and give himself time to think.

  Dan packed away his things, then checked and reloaded his guns and the ones he was taking from Miller, Schroder and Thaddeus. He chuckled – with all those weapons on his person, he looked more like a Mexican revolutionary than a Montana cowboy. He poured water from his canteen over the waning fire, kicked earth over the embers, then mounted up and turned Goldy toward Cheyenne, his face like flint.

  His hotel room was as he’d left it, the bed mussed where Gracie had slept those short minutes before the sheriff and his men burst in. He washed up in the washbowl, using three pitchers full of water before he was satisfied. Finally, he undressed and threw himself onto the bed, his thoughts in a whirl. Where were they now? How far would they go before Angus let up on the pace and gave them a chance to rest?

  Dan sighed and rolled onto his side, staring at the wall and picturing Claudine’s smiling face. His eyes drifted shut and he fell to sleep thinking of her, imagining holding her in his arms. Before long he dreamt they were together, walking with hands linked on Paradise Ranch, planning their future together.

  When he awoke, it was to the sound of laughter and stomping feet in the hall outside his room. He yawned and sat up, every part of him hurting. He fingered a bruise on his ribcage where a fist had connected sometime in the previous night. He shook his head – it was all a blur. He dressed, packed up and ate a hearty breakfast in the saloon downstairs – bacon, eggs, toast and two cups of steaming black coffee. By the time he’d saddled Goldy in the livery stables, he felt much better. And Goldy had rested up as well.

  Now he was ready. Ready to resume tracking Angus, ready to find Claudine and Gracie and bring them to Paradise Valley. Nothing would stop him witho
ut a whale of a fight.

  He trotted Goldy down the main street to the sheriff’s office, dismounted, hitched Goldy to a rail and walked in. There was no one there – had Fisher made good on his promise to leave town? – so he searched until he found the checked weapons, located his six-shooter and tucked it into the empty holster on his belt. Now he had both six-shooters, the Henry, plus the deputies’ and Thaddeus’ pistols in reserve.

  He wondered what became of the gun he’d given Claudine before he left them the first time. Probably Angus had it now. He grimaced – it was a brand new gun. He’d have to see about getting it back along with Claudine and Gracie.

  Two hours later, he’d returned to where he last lost them and found their tracks again. Every other track from the campsite turned south, so it wasn’t hard to follow. Angus had led them along the wagon trail, so he rode that way, figuring it might take the rest of the day and part way into the next before he found them.

  Inside, he was conflicted. Part of him wanted to rush, find them now, not to hold back. But he knew that tracking them slowly was the best option. He didn’t want to rush Angus, to provoke him into doing something stupid. He’d find them quietly and make sure he could get Claudine and Gracie away from the outlaw without them being harmed in the process. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

  Another set of hoof prints on a bare patch of ground. A depressed section of prairie grass. He was certain they’d come that way. He nudged Goldy to a canter as he searched the horizon for movement.

  The day passed, darkness fell, and still Dan pushed on. He kept a steady pace, wanting to make sure Goldy had plenty of strength for the long ride ahead. So far, the tracks had headed in a single direction, not turning or stopping. He could only hope that continued, since he couldn’t see much in the dark, even with the full moon. When it was high overhead, he stopped and made camp.

  He hunched over a cup of coffee before the fire and let his thoughts wander. They’d get through this, all three of them. He was certain of it somehow, and that certainty kept him going. He finished his coffee, wiped his supper plate and settled into his bedroll with a sigh. He could hear Goldy cropping grass close by, and the sound calmed his nerves.

  The next morning, Dan rose early, ate a cold breakfast, kicked dirt over the remnants of the campfire and saddled Goldy. Within minutes, he was on his way with one thing on his mind: find Claudine and Gracie and set them free. It was all he could think of.

  14

  Claudine opened her eyes and sat up with a yawn. As she stretched, she squinted around the campsite. Where was Angus? They’d ridden with the outlaw for two days and two nights, and he’d given them more leeway by the hour. Now it looked as though he’d left them entirely alone.

  His things were still there, his tightly-packed bedroll and saddlebags still by the campfire, but his saddle was gone. She stood and raised a hand to shade her eyes from the sun’s glare. Sam and Bolt grazed contentedly nearby, the ropes from their pickets hanging on the ground. But Angus’ black horse wasn’t there.

  She wandered over to his saddlebags, took another look around to make sure he was nowhere in sight, and squatted beside them. A quick search revealed he’d taken the guns with him. She hadn’t imagined he’d leave them behind, but it was worth a try. She wondered if he’d kept the Colt he’d taken from her or left it behind at Kellogg’s.

  Gracie stirred beneath the covers and rolled over.

  “Come on, sleepy head,” sang Claudine. “Time to wake up.”

  Gracie sat up with a yawn and rubbed her eyes. “What are we gonna eat?”

  Claudine came over and tousled the girl’s hair. “I don’t rightly know.”

  “Where’s Angus?”

  “Another thing I don’t know.”

  Gracie laughed. “Don’t you know anything today?”

  “I guess not.” Claudine tickled her ribs. “Maybe you’ll just have to teach me some things. I can’t go through my whole life ignorant, can I?”

  Gracie giggled hysterically.

  “I’ll get the fire started,” said Claudine with a laugh.

  “I’ll see if I can find some more kindling,” added Gracie, jumping to her feet, her sleepiness forgotten.

  Claudine heard the pounding of hooves across the prairie and looked up to see Angus galloping toward them. He slowed as he approached, holding up a hare by the ears. So he’d been hunting. He dismounted and threw the hair at Claudine’s feet. “Breakfast,” he grunted.

  She smiled. “Thank you, Mr. O’Leary.” She’d decided the previous day to try and get on his good side, if he had one. It might be their only chance of surviving. He’d seemed surprised by her friendliness at first, but he’d relaxed his attentions toward them. Perhaps because they’d traveled so far from Cheyenne, he didn’t expect them to try to escape without guns, knives, matches or food. He kept all the things of importance close by himself, where they couldn’t reach.

  He grunted again and led his horse away to picket it. No doubt they’d be moving again as soon as they’d eaten – it was what they’d done the previous two mornings. She wondered where he planned to take them. Not to mention where Dan was …

  Just thinking about Dan Graham made her heart ache. He hadn’t come for them, and she knew he would if he was able. Which meant … she couldn’t think about it. Her throat ached as she picked up the hare. Better to make breakfast and keep moving. She couldn’t collapse in grief now – she had to get Gracie to safety first.

  Angus walked back toward the campfire, then sat beside it with a huff.

  “How long do you plan to keep us with you?” asked Claudine in her most friendly voice. She avoided eye contact, instead focusing on skinning the hare.

  “Long as I like,” he growled.

  “Yes, but it means you’ve more mouths to feed. And it seems clear Dan isn’t coming after us.” She didn’t believe that at all, but it would be to their advantage if Angus did. “Wouldn’t it make things easier on you to just let us go?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I …” Then he jumped to his feet and scanned the horizon to the south, his head whipping back and forth.

  “What is it?”

  “Hush!” he commanded. “Get everythin’ together and get on the horses. Let’s go.”

  “Gracie,” whispered Claudine, hurrying to gather their things. “We have to pack up and get the horses. Hurry!”

  Gracie’s eyes gleamed. “Is it Dan? I knew he’d come for us …”

  “I don’t know. But Angus seems scared …”

  Gracie’s eyes widened. She ran toward the horses, her skirt flapping. Claudine hurried after her, arms full of supplies.

  Angus was already saddling their mounts. He moved quickly, repeatedly glancing back over his shoulder. He sprang onto the black horse, drew the Colt from his holster and held it in the air, listening.

  Claudine quickly stashed everything away in his saddlebags, then she helped Gracie mount up and climbed into the saddle herself. Her eyes fell on the half-skinned hare in the dirt by the fire. She pointed to it and asked Angus, “What about …?”

  Angus walked his horse forward, dismounted, quickly kicked dirt over the fire, then remounted again, ignoring his catch completely “Let’s ride.”

  They moved along at a trot, single file with Angus bringing up the rear and still scanning the prairie anxiously. She urged Sam forward, clutching his mane in nervous fingers. Then, glanced over her shoulder at Angus. “What did you hear, Mr. O’Leary? Why are you so jumpy?”

  A man on a painted pony wearing breechcloths and a buckskin shirt galloped silently toward them behind the outlaw. She gasped when she saw two more men, both with feathers sticking up behind their heads.

  Angus saw the look on her face, followed her gaze and cursed under his breath. He shouted, whipping his horse with the ends of the reins. The black horse shot forward, and he slapped the rumps of Claudine and Gracie’s horses as he passed them by.

  Claudine dug her heels into Sam’s ribs and shouted to Gr
acie. “Indians!”

  Gracie blanched, kicked her legs against Bolt’s sides, and the horse broke into a gallop, following after Angus.

  Claudine leaned forward over the bay’s neck just as an arrow sailed by her head. More arrows flew overhead, some landing close to Angus. He pulled his horse to a stop, and she and Gracie galloped by as he raised his pistol and fired at their pursuers. She glanced over her shoulder and saw one warrior fall, then another. The third pulled his horse up short and shot an arrow into Angus’ leg. He growled with the pain, fired his pistol again but missed. The Indian stared solemnly at Angus, then turned his pony and rode back to where his mates had fallen.

  The three of them continued riding, keeping the horses at a steady pace, putting distance between them and the remaining warrior. Every now and then Claudine looked back to see Angus following slowly behind. She turned to Gracie. “Look, there are some rocks up ahead – see those real big ones? Let’s aim for those. We can hide behind them.”

  When they reached the largest of the rocks, they slowed the horses to a walk. The animals picked their way carefully over the stony ground. Once she and Gracie were hidden from the prairie beyond, Claudine dismounted, went to the edge of the rock and peered around it. Angus was still coming, but his shoulders were slumped and he leaned in the saddle, his face pale. The arrow still protruded from his thigh.

  “We’ll have to pull it out,” she told him once he reached them.

  He nodded in agreement, seemingly too ill to speak. He was barely able to dismount without falling, but he managed to sit on a large flat stone, sweat streaming down his face. His eyes were narrowed and his skin pallid.

  Claudine crouched in front of him, both hands clasped around the arrow shaft. She tugged on it and he winced. “Sorry. It’s not moving.”