“Don’t—know. Somewhere low down.”
Waco knew he couldn’t help him there. Crouching down in the darkness, he picked up the old man and slung him over his shoulder. “This is going to hurt, but we’ve got to get you out of here.” He ran across the open spaces. “Don’t shoot!” he called. “They’ll know where we are if they see the muzzle flashes. Come on. Let’s get back to the others.”
They made their way back, and Gray Wolf helped carry the old man. Waco saw vague outlines, and he let off a round. Instantly he heard a shout of pain and someone yelled, “This way! Come on, we got ’em, Trey!”
LeBeau’s voice ordered, “Spread out now! Surround ’em!”
Waco grimly lifted his rifle and began to lay down a heavy fire, but knowing he was being quickly cut off, he retreated. The two men made their way stumbling, and they found Sabrina.
“What happened?” she asked.
“LeBeau got back,” Waco said. “He surprised us. Silas got hit. We’ve got to get out of here and get Silas to a doctor.” They lowered the old man into the wagon, and he said, “Sabrina, you’ll have to drive. Just head on out. We’ll find you.”
“I’m staying.”
“You get going. We’ll take care of this end.”
Waco and Gray Wolf reloaded their rifles. “We’ll hold ’em for a while and give her a chance to get a clean start.”
“Too many.” Gray Wolf shook his head. “No.”
“We’ll have to hold ’em just for a little while.”
The fight began in earnest, and at some point, after they loosed a volley of shots, Waco heard someone call out, “I’m hit! I’m hit!”
“We’ve got to get out of here,” he heard another voice say in panic. “We’ve got to get out of this. There’s too many of ’em. They got Hagerty. He’s a goner.”
“Pull back then!” LeBeau’s harsh voice called.
It was the moment Waco and Gray Wolf had been waiting for. “Let’s go,” Gray Wolf gasped. “Let’s get back to the others. They won’t be coming after us.”
“They’ll be after us as soon as it’s light enough to track us. We can be clear by then. I want you to stay here, Gray Wolf. There’s no way LeBeau will stay at this place. They’ll go to a new hideout. You find out where it is and meet us in Fort Smith.”
“Yes, now go. Back soon.” Gray Wolf melted away into the night, and Waco hurried, his heart heavy as he realized that Silas was badly hurt.
“We’ve got to get back to Fort Smith,” Sabrina said desperately. She had drawn Waco aside near where Silas was lying flat on a blanket. They had taken him out of the wagon. The sun was now high in the sky, and the horses were pretty well winded by the fast pace of all last night and half the day.
They reached a small creek and decided to rest the wounded man. “How far is it? How long is it going to take?”
“Best part of two days.” Waco shook his head. “And we can’t go too fast. It’d shake him to death. But you’re right, we can’t stay here.”
“Do you think Silas will be all right?” Sabrina asked.
“I don’t know, Sabrina. He wasn’t too strong to begin with, and that bullet hit something in his lower back. Last time he woke up he said he didn’t feel any pain. Bad sign.”
They stood paralyzed by indecision, and finally Waco said, “All right. We’ll rest here until it cools off. We’ve got plenty of food but no grain for the horses. I’ll take ’em out and find some graze and rub ’em down and let ’em rest tonight. We can make it in two days, I think.” He turned and looked at Sabrina. “I’m sorry we didn’t get your sister. I made a bad play.”
Sabrina looked at him. “No, Waco, it wasn’t your fault.”
They stayed beside the cool trickle all day. Early in the morning they loaded up and headed out.
They had not gone far when Waco said, “Pull up! Stop the horses!”
As she obeyed, Sabrina said, “What is it?”
“I don’t know. We need to check on Silas.”
He pulled the stretcher down and looked at his face. “Something’s gone wrong. I’m not even sure he’s breathing.”
Holding his breath, he put his hand over the frail chest of the old man. Silas did not move. “Heart’s beating like crazy. Real fast and not at all. I don’t know what that means.”
“Let’s get him in the shade,” Sabrina said. “I’ll bathe his face with some cool water.”
When they got him into the shade and she had bathed his face, she whispered in anguish, “He looks awful.”
“I always feel so blasted helpless. If we only had a doctor.”
Sabrina turned to him. “I’m not sure a doctor would help now.” She continued to bathe the old man’s face.
Waco pounded his hands together in a gesture of helplessness. “Well, I guess we’ll stay here until he comes to. Or maybe I’ll ride on ahead and bring a doctor.”
“No, don’t leave us,” Sabrina said. She was more afraid of the country and the predicament than she let on.
The afternoon passed slowly, the burning raw heat changing into a cooling breeze. Waco did not get far away from the wounded man. He fed the fire, and they made a pot of coffee. It was black and bitter, but it was hot and refreshing.
The hours passed, and finally a faint sound came from Silas Longstreet. Like a cat, Waco sprang to his feet, and almost as quickly Sabrina was there. “Can you hear me, Silas?” Waco asked.
At first there was no answer; then Waco saw the old eyes slowly open. He cried out, “Silas, can you hear me? Are you in pain?”
“Water.”
“Here.” Quickly Sabrina knelt at his side and held the canteen. He managed to drink a little as most of the water ran down his chin.
“That was good.” He stared at Waco and then at Sabrina. “Well, I guess I’ve torn it this time.”
“You’ll be all right. We’ll get you to a doctor.”
Silas shook his head slightly. “Can’t feel nothin’ except my head. Ain’t that somethin’? It feels like my whole body has gone to sleep.” His eyes began to droop, and they were afraid he was drifting into unconsciousness. “Sorry about your sister, missy.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Sabrina reached up and gently brushed a lock of his white hair back from his forehead then lightly wiped his forehead with the handkerchief she had dampened. “We’ll find her, Marshal, and you’ll be all right.”
“No, not this time,” Silas whispered.
Waco glanced at Sabrina then said, “Sure you will, Silas. You’ve taken bullets before.”
“No,” Silas said, “this is it for old Silas.” There was a peacefulness on his face and in his eyes. “I’m on the receivin’ end this time.” He looked up and said, “Don’t you cry now, missy. Don’t you cry for old Silas.”
“I can’t help it,” Sabrina sobbed, biting her lip. “It was all my fault.”
“I was here ’cause I wanted to be, missy. I’ve been on lots of hunts that I wasn’t proud of, but this time I was proud. Wish we could have done it.”
The dying man was silent, and finally he said, “I ain’t been the man I should have been. Hard to be a Christian in this line of work. I tried to be fair and honest, but I had to handle some rough characters. That takes rough ways, don’t it, Waco?”
“That’s right, but everybody knows you’re a good man,” Waco said gently. He felt helpless kneeling beside him. He loved the old man. He had known him and respected him, and now he saw life slipping away like sand through an hourglass.
The moon crept fully across the sky; the stars twinkled and burned quietly against the velvet black curtain of night. The desert silence was broken from time to time only by the cry of a night bird or the howl of a coyote. As the old man’s life flickered weakly and seemed to be fading away, Waco was struck dumb by the awesomeness of the moment.
Finally Silas roused and whispered, “One thing—one thing.” He faltered, but then his voice returned stronger than before. “One thing I done a long time a
go. I took Jesus as my Savior. I ain’t been faithful to Him always, but I always loved Him, and I always studied His Word. And now I guess when I go to meet my God, all I’ll be able to say is Jesus died for me.”
The old man’s voice trailed off, and then he opened his eyes. “Son, I’m going. I’d like to know if you are going to find God, and you, too, missy.” His faded blue eyes closed, and for a moment there was silence.
“He’s gone,” Waco said angrily. “One of the best I ever knew shot by a no-good dog!”
Very carefully Sabrina lay Silas’s head down, crossed his frail arms across his chest, stood to her feet, and walked away to stand in the darkness.
Waco walked over to her. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready, Sabrina. I know how hard it is. You loved that old man, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Me, too. I’ve known lots of men but never known one more faithful. He was the kind of man I wish I was. The cards didn’t turn up that way.”
Sabrina turned and looked at him, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Not too late, Waco. Maybe this all happened so you can see what it’s like. I know it’s made me see. I call myself religious, but I couldn’t go out to meet God like Silas did. I’d be scared to death.”
Waco searched her face, his expression puzzled and questioning. He was disturbed by her confession, but he muttered, “I can tell you one thing. I’m coming back, and I’ll get LeBeau. I’ll put a bullet right between his eyes, and I’ll get your sister.”
“No, don’t talk like that,” Sabrina said quickly.
“Why not? It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“I want Marianne, but if you turn out to be a man who does nothing but kill—why, it’s all for nothing, Waco.”
“I don’t know any other way to get the job done.”
They put Silas back in the wagon and headed for Fort Smith.
Waco did not say so, but he had been moved and shaken by the old man’s death. Not just the loss of his friend but thinking of his own walk before God. . .or lack of it. He had tried to avoid thinking about things like this, but now it had happened, and he knew he would never forget that moment. “Maybe it’s my time,” he muttered as he rode forward into the darkness.
CHAPTER 18
The journey back to Fort Smith was a terrible time for Sabrina. The farther she and Waco went, the blacker the pall seemed to become as it hung over her heart. She still grieved terribly for her sister, but now she knew that the price that had been paid was terribly high, and it wasn’t fully paid yet.
As they finally entered Fort Smith and headed down the main street, Sabrina was shocked to see her parents coming toward her. Both of them rushed forward and surrounded her, and Sabrina saw that her mother was weeping.
“You’re safe,” her father said, his voice tight. He held on to her, squeezing her. He was not a demonstrative man, as a rule.
“Are you all right, Sabrina?” her mother asked.
“Yes, but we didn’t get Marianne back. It almost worked, but it didn’t.”
“Did you see her at all?”
“Yes, from a distance. It broke my heart.”
Father turned to face Waco, and seeing the question in his eyes, Sabrina said, “This is Waco Smith. He’s the man who set out to help us.”
“I didn’t do the job, Mr. Warren. Sorry.”
They were interrupted then when Judge Parker came out, accompanied by Heck Thomas. The two men had waited until the family had greeted Sabrina, and then Judge Parker paused and said, “What happened, Waco?”
“We got ambushed, Judge. They got Silas.”
The judge’s eyes flew to the still form on the wagon. He turned to say, “Heck, take him down to Roberts. He’ll take care of him.”
Heck climbed up into the wagon, and it moved away.
“I’d like to hear all of the story,” Judge Parker said. There was pain in his voice. “I hate to see it. Silas was a good man. Who did it?”
“Can’t be sure.” Waco shrugged. “Most likely LeBeau. If it wasn’t him, it was one of his men. All the same.”
An ominous light glowed in the eyes of the judge, and his lips drew into a thin white line. “We’ll nail his casket shut.” He turned to her father and said, “If I can do anything, Mr. Warren, let me know.”
“I expect it’s going to take you in this thing, Judge. I’ll be depending on you.”
Parker turned and walked away.
Her father turned back to Waco. “So you’re Waco Smith. I’ve been looking into your character. Asking around, you know. Way I hear it you’re a rangy wolf with long teeth and whiskers of metal shavings. Scare little children in the night, do you, and make the girls scream and run for cover? That’s what they say. What’s the other side of you?”
Waco replied, “Isn’t any.”
“Well, just as well you think so then.” Her father had an ability to make decisions about people. When he did, he seldom changed his mind and almost never made a mistake. “I know you feel bad about your friend Marshal Longstreet.”
“He was straight. Never let a man down. Never broke his word.” Waco shuffled his feet then said, “Well, I don’t guess you’ll be needing me anymore.”
“Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy, Smith,” her father said calmly. “We’re going to get that girl of mine back, and you’re the one who’s going to have to do it. I can’t go because I can’t sit on a horse and can’t shoot. So let’s make some plans.”
“Come on into the café. I imagine you’re hungry.” They all went inside, and for some time they discussed the possibilities.
Finally her father said, “There’s nothing else we can do now. I know you’re both dead tired. So let’s eat, and then I’ll get you a room here, Waco.”
“No need spending your money on me, Mr. Warren.”
“Got more money than I have good sense. You’re going to do this job. I want you to be fresh. You go get some rest. When you get up in the morning, we’re going to get together and decide what to do. I’m going to ask the good Lord for an answer, and if you know how to pray, you might do the same.” He got up abruptly and walked away, her mother following him.
As soon as they were gone, Waco stared after him, saying, “He’s quite a fellow, your dad. Is he always like this?”
“Yes, he’s the kindest man I’ve ever known, but it’s taken something out of him. Mother’s suffering, too.”
Waco’s expression suddenly went grim. “The best thing would be to get twenty marshals and throw a chain around that bunch.”
“But what would happen to Marianne? Could she get hurt?”
“She can get hurt any way we go about it, but you’re right. The first sign of something like that, and LeBeau’s going to threaten to kill her.” He looked at her and saw her weariness. “You’re worn out. Go to bed.”
“All right, but do you think we have another chance, Waco?”
“Always a chance,” he told her. “Your dad said something about praying. He’s a praying man?”
“Yes, he is, and my mother, too. Do you ever pray, Waco?”
“No, wouldn’t be right.”
“Not right? What do you mean?”
“A fellow like me, I never think of God, never do anything for God, then out of the blue I start beggin’. Seems pretty small to me.”
Sabrina chose her words carefully before she spoke. “I think all of us have to reach some point where the only thing we can do is ask God. Until we get there, we’re pretty likely to stay stubborn— at least that’s what I’ve been. I’m turning in. We have a lot facing us tomorrow.”
“What do you think about this fellow Waco, Sabrina?”
“Think about him? Why, I don’t know.” She had come to her father’s room early in the morning to talk to him, and now he said, “Well, you must have some thoughts, girl. You trusted him enough to go gallivanting around the desert with him.”
“I—don’t really know, Dad. He’s a strange man.”
> Charles Warren knew this elder daughter of his. She never had acted like this about a man before, and her difficulty in speaking of Waco Smith made him want to ask more, but he decided not to press her. “Well, I’ve discovered one thing. He’s tough as a boot heel. Far as I know he’s not vicious.”
“He’s had a hard life,” Sabrina said. “I think if he’d had more chances, he would have made something out of himself. He’s very quick. Not educated, but he knows things. He’s what you used to call ‘country smart.’ ”
“He’s quick-witted all right. You know, he looks kind of like a wolf. His eyes are sharp, looking right through you.”
“I dread the funeral. I don’t do well at funerals, but I’ve never lost anyone that I was close to like I was to Silas.”
“Well, funerals are never happy affairs.”
Waco accompanied the Warrens as they left the hotel and went to the small, weather-beaten white church. The funeral was heartbreaking.
The minister was a well-built man with greenish eyes and curly blond hair. He had known Longstreet for many years, and he preached a sermon about how wonderful it was that Silas Longstreet had stepped from one world into another one. “In an instant’s time,” he said, “he stepped from earth to heaven. And however many problems he had, he doesn’t have them anymore.”
The mourners left the church after the sermon, went out to the cemetery, and gathered around the grave. “Would you care to say a few words, Judge Parker?” the minister said.
Parker cleared his throat. “I’m not a preacher, but I am a believer, and I want to say something about Silas my friend. Well, that’s what he was to me. He was more than a marshal, you know. He had a hard job, and he always did his duty, but even when he was doing the hardest things, he stood by the way of Jesus Christ. He was a faithful servant, and his greatest desire, as he told me many times, was to stand before God and to be with his faithful wife, Lottie.” He hesitated and then looked around the crowd. “One of the last things Silas said to me before he went on this trip concerned some of you standing here. He was worried and concerned about your souls.”
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