She Wore It Tied-Down

by r. William Rogers

  She smiled pleasantly and allowed her now heavy eyelids to close.

  Chapter 32

  Dolly sat astride the buckskin and looked out across the snow covered hills. She turned to Wayne. “I’m sure not looking forward to crossing another set of mountains,” she said.

  “Me neither. But then again, maybe we’ll catch up with those two pieces of crud before too long and won’t have to.”

  “I wouldn’t bank on it.” Having said that, she again looked at the nearby bushes. “Wonder what’s keeping Billy?”

  Wayne chuckled. “Sometimes it’s just not nice to ask about the things of nature like that. ’Sides...females most always take a sight longer ta do their business than fellas do. So I’d just sit back an’ let nature take its course...so ta speak. Ain’t neither of us ever wondered what was takin’ you so long whenever you sashayed off into the bushes.”

  His grin was infectious and she responded in kind. “Geez...I was just wondering.”

  Billy finally appeared. “Boy do I feel a sight better,” he said, while patting his stomach.

  “Thanks for sharing that with us,” Dolly said and offered his mare’s reins out to him.

  He took them, and after flipping them over the animal’s head, grabbed the horn and swung onto her back without using the stirrup. “Well...let’s get after it,” he said and pulled her head around.

  Billy took the lead as they headed into a cut that would take them down the slight slope and onto the floor of the small valley and eventually to the snowcapped string of hills on the other side.

  They had ridden barely a few minutes when they were forced to rein up. Their path was blocked by a single file of Mescaleros as they descended without warning from the bushes that lined the left shoulder of the cut. It was obvious right from the start that this bunch was nowhere near being of a friendly nature.

  Usually a fella associated redskins being of a hostile nature with the presence of warpaint on their faces, bodies, and ponies. But this bunch didn’t show any of that. Instead, they removed all doubt of any neighborly intentions by screaming at the top of their lungs and kicking their ponies straight at the three White Eye intruders.

  Dolly managed a couple of frantic shots while at just about the same instant savagely jerking the buckskin’s head around in the narrow cut. She slammed her heels into his flanks and hoped the Mescaleros didn’t have any guns of their own.

  She was aware of the sounds of Wayne and Billy close behind and chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. Reassured that they were both still in good enough condition to affect a successful getaway, she turned back around to the front and almost savagely kicked the buckskin up the sloping cut.

  Reaching the crest, she pulled him hard to the left. After riding only about another six or eight strides, she hauled back with all her might, sending him to his haunches as they slid to a stop. She hastily dismounted, and while holding tightly onto the rein with one hand, used the other to train the Peacemaker on the exact spot where Wayne had just appeared.

  After Wayne and Billy had made it up out of the cut, she readied herself, tensed, and when the first Mescalero appeared, she shot him right off the back of his pony, deader than a year-old used horseshoe nail.

  He resembled a rag doll as he flew off his painted pony and disappeared off the other side of the animal. The second Indian to appear got pretty much the same treatment from Dolly’s Colt and that must have gotten the attention of the others because they quit showing themselves.

  Instantly realizing the reevaluation of their intentions, she swung up onto the buckskin and hightailed it after Wayne and Billy. They hadn’t gone far and she found them just around the other side of a rockfall that had laid claim to a steep hillside.

  They were both still astride their horses, but it was plain to see that Billy had been wounded. He sat his mare slumped over forward with Wayne doing his best to keep them both mounted despite their prancing, excited horses. The pack mare was nowhere to be seen.

  Dolly hauled up alongside Billy on the side opposite of Wayne. “How bad is it?” she asked and reached out to him. It was then that she saw the tomahawk lodged in his upper thigh. She cringed. There was a lot of blood.

  “We need to get him to a safe place!” she said and looked at Wayne with pleading eyes.

  “What’s safe?” he responded. “Hell, them Apaches could be most anywhere!” He waved at the air around them. “And most likely are!”

  Dolly nodded, knowing he was exactly right. “Then I guess this is about as good a place as any,” she said and stepped down from the buckskin.

  “I-I didn’t mean—”

  “C’mon...let’s get him off that mare and into those rocks over there.” She motioned with a tilt of her head to the ones behind her. She quickly went around to Billy’s good side while Wayne kept the rest of his objections bottled inside, and swung down.

  They made short work of getting Billy down and safely off the trail. Dolly had remembered to grab her saddlebags where the medical supplies were stored, and as Wayne kept a close watch in just about every direction at once, she went to work on the leg.

  The hatchet was buried in the leg a mite off center. That was probably a good thing, meaning there was a good chance that it had missed the bone.

  “Sure does hurt,” Billy managed through clenched teeth, while gripping the leg tightly with both hands. “Had me a time like this once before. Died from it, too.”

  “Very funny,” she said and ripped the trousers leg apart.

  “Ouch! That hurts!”

  “Can’t imagine why.”

  Wayne fired off a shot right above them, demanding the attention of both of them.

  “Seen one of them heathens,” he said, as if there could be any other possible reason for him to be shooting.

  Billy tried to rise.

  “Just you sit right back down there,” Dolly said and placed a restraining hand atop his shoulder.

  “That’d be all well n’ good, but in case you’ve already forgot, Wayne’s a mite outnumbered. So, how about you just tyin’ somethin’ around that leg so’s all the blood don’t leak out? Then you can snatch that thing the heck outta there.”

  “You’re not serious...are you?”

  “You got a better idea?”

  She reached out to him. “Gimmee your belt.”

  Once the tourniquet was in place she took a two-handed grip on the hatchet and looking into his eyes, said, “You sure you wanna do this?”

  “Course not. Just do it.”

  “Okay...here goes.” She gave a mighty yank, amazed at herself for having had the gumption to do it.

  Billy grunted and fainted dead away.

  Dolly figured he’d keep, and hastily got to her feet. She quickly scrambled onto the rock beside Wayne just as he fired off another shot.

  He looked down at Billy’s unconscious form, then at her. “How’s he doin’?”

  “Sleeping like a baby,” she said and pulled the Peacemaker. “How many of ’em you think there are?”

  “Too many would be my first inclination. You stay here,” he said. He motioned with the barrel of his six-gun. “I’m gonna work my way around that way. With any luck at all I might be able to get behind them and pick off one or two. Maybe that’ll discourage the rest of them.”

  “But what if you’re fresh outta luck?”

  He placed his hand tenderly against the side of her face. “In that case you just remember that I truly did love you.”

  She was mildly shaken by the words, but her surprise wore off quickly as he leaned toward her. His intentions were plain enough and she decided that the kiss was definitely in order.

  With his lips pressed tenderly against hers, she felt a sense of tingling all the way down into her toes. At least she was pretty sure that’s what it was. The sensation was not unpleasant and she found herself eagerly clutching him to her as the feeling threatened to consume her. Coming to her senses, she reluctantly pulled away. “Nice try, Mister,�
� she said coyly. “But I believe I’ll opt for a better time and place.”

  “Sure hope that’s a possibility that comes true.” He turned and started to leave.

  She stopped him with a well placed hand gripping his upper arm. “Wayne?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you, too.”

  They smiled into one another’s eyes, and after touching her lightly on her cheek, he was gone.

  Dolly immediately turned her attention to a sound in the opposite direction. A flash of movement appeared and reacting with the reflexes of a seasoned gunfighter, she took care of it with a well placed bullet.

  The Mescalero yelped and disappeared.

  “Sorry, fella,” she said, “but then again that’s what comes of doing what you’re doing.” She worked the cylinder open and replaced the spent shells.

  Billy moaned just as she was closing the Colt.

  “Well, well. You finally get your fill of beauty sleep?”

  “Where’s Wayne?” he asked, looking around.

  “Most likely up to his eyeballs in Apaches would be my first guess,” she said as a shot rang out. “That’d be him now,” she added. “You up to shooting a couple of these varmints?”

  He painfully worked his way to a sitting position, feeling the need for a couple of groans with a few grunts mixed in for good measure as a means of getting the job done. “Reckon I’m in good enough shape,” he assured her as his anguish showed in his eyes. “Besides...shootin’s what I live for...it’s what I do best.”

  Or die for, she thought, but kept it to herself. She took a look in the direction where she figured the Indians were, and seeing nothing, slid down the rock. She helped him to his feet. “I’m thinking that if you could hold ’em off from here, I’ll go see what I can do to help Wayne.”

  “Works for me,” he said and looked around. “Looks like a good enough spot right over yonder.” He pointed. “Gimmee a hand.”

  She dropped the Colt into its holster and ducked under his arm on the bad side, taking up a fair amount of his weight while giving him the needed support to get the job done. They wasted little time getting him to a rock that was mostly hidden behind a bush at the far edge of the clearing.

  “Should serve you alright enough,” she said as she glanced around, judging his field of vision.

  “I’ll be fine,” he offered. “You go see what you can do to keep that man a yours alive.” He grinned mischievously.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “’Fraid so...now go.” He shooed her away with a wave of his pistol.

  She lowered him onto the rock and headed out to the tune of two closely spaced shots reaching her ears. She quickened her pace. She scrambled over the boulders with fear constricting her chest. At least she knew that Wayne was still alive.

  Once she reached the crest of the rocks, she could easily hear the excited voices of the Mescaleros. Glancing around, she was unable to readily see anyone and headed out in the direction she figured the voices were coming from.

  In her haste she nearly lost her footing on more than one occasion as she ran across the small clearing. Kneeling behind the protection of a squat juniper, she lowered herself onto her belly and squirmed her way under the tree. Any hope she’d had of Wayne being alright was dashed to smithereens as the sight of him being tossed around and beaten savagely with sticks, blocked out almost everything else. She was, however, able to keep her senses about her well enough to successfully fight down the urge to bust out into the open and try to gun all eight of the Mescaleros that had him captured.

  She watched with a trembling chin and tears streaming down her cheeks as Wayne mercifully lost consciousness and they eased up on him.

  Realizing her vulnerability, she wiped a coat sleeve across her tearing eyes and snaked her way back the way she had come. Once out from under the tree, she got to her feet and again let the tears flow as she headed back to the spot where she’d left Billy.

  Chapter 33

  Billy wasn’t in any better shape than Wayne was, the difference being...at least he was conscious.

  “You doing alright?” she asked as she lowered herself onto her knees beside him. The pain that creased his brow and filled his eyes said that he wasn’t.

  He exhaled heavily. “Yeah...I-I’m gettin’ by.”

  “I saw Wayne...the Mescaleros have him.”

  “That jerks a kink in things,” Billy said and immediately tried to rise.

  She offered a restraining hand. “Just sit tight,” she said softly. “We’ll tend to him in due time. But right now I’m thinking it’d best suit our purpose to make sure you have a fair chance of survivin’.” She went to work on removing the tourniquet.

  “That’s all well ’n good, but what’s that gonna do for Wayne?”

  She glanced up into his eyes. “Not much I’m afraid,” she said and returned her attention to the leg. “At least not right at first,” she added.

  Once she had removed the belt, the leg started bleeding again. “Lie down on your back and prop that leg up on that rock.” She helped him get into the desired position. Almost immediately, the flow of blood lessened.

  “Where’d you learn that?” he asked.

  “Don’t know. Does it much matter?”

  “Not a lick, if you ask me. I’m just grinnin’ like an opossum that I might not bleed ta death after all. Seems to feel some better as well.”

  Dolly rose and retrieved the saddlebag from where she had left it. After setting it down between them, she began rummaging through it, placing selected items on the ground. One of the last things she came out with was the small brown bottle containing the liquid that the smiley faced doc had given Wayne for his neck wound. She uncapped the bottle and offered it to Billy. “Here...drink this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Don’t rightly know. Just something Wayne was given to help out with the wound on his neck.”

  “Reckon that’s good enough for me.” He accepted the bottle, tried without success to peer at the contents through the brown glass, and finally just unscrewed the cap and slugged down every bit of the liquid.” After wiping the back of his hand across his lips, he shivered and held the bottle up to eye level. “Don’t taste worth a hoot...must be pretty good medicine.”

  She grinned at his reasoning and went to work dressing the leg with the meager amount of medical supplies that were all that remained.

  *

  They spoke in hushed whispers.

  “How’s the leg?”

  “Feels pretty good,” he replied and patted it lightly. “Told ya that bottle of medicine tasted bad enough to be of good use.”

  They returned their attention to the circle of Mescaleros seated in the clearing. Wayne had been bound hand and foot, and left off to one side, propped up with his back against a rock.

  “You ready?” she asked.

  “I reckon.”

  They began cautiously working their way to their feet. She gave him a hand once it became apparent that he was having a bit of trouble getting it done on his own.

  “Now you ready?” she repeated.

  “Yeah,” he said simply, and pulled the extra pistol from its boot holster.

  They walked out from behind the brush-lined scattering of boulders and walked slowly toward the Mescaleros. It took about one second...well, maybe really three or four before the redskins noticed their approach.

  Their voices grew excited and they sprang to their feet. What with their being eight of them, all told, it had already been predetermined that if it came right down to it Billy would take care of the four on the left while she would take out the other four on the right.

  Dolly spoke it halting Mexican, “We want our friend.” She pointed at Wayne.

  A particularly fierce looking warrior took a step forward. “He now belongs to my people.” He gestured to either side of himself, indicating the rest of the warriors. “He was shooting his firestick and has taken the life of two of our number.” He held up t
wo fingers. “He will die for this.”

  “That ain’t gonna happen,” Dolly said icily, and crouched slightly. “Besides that...I was the one who shot them two.”

  “Then you will all pay for what has been done,” the warrior insisted. “You must pay just as the other two we have taken to our village will pay.”

  Her interest was instantly peaked. “You have taken others to your camp?”

  The warrior scowled at her. “Yes...they had nothing to give in trade for crossing our land, so they will pay with their lives.”

  Seeing the needed opening, she took it, “We are unlike them. We have brought many things to give to the Mescalero for the right to cross this land.” She had a fleeting thought that she sure hoped they would be able to find the pack mare and all their goods.

  “It is too late for that!” he fired back angrily. “Two of our brothers have been killed by your firesticks...now those deaths will be avenged.” He looked first to one side then the other as he said something to his fellow tribesmen.

  Neither she nor Billy could understand the words, but that didn’t matter none because the meaning was plain enough.

  In the next instant, the Indians made their move. Luckily none of them were carrying their bows and their meager efforts were limited to the weapons they carried at their waists. With their hands reaching for the knives and hatchets, Dolly and Billy cleared leather.

  They each started from their respective ends of the line of Mescaleros with the last one standing taking slugs from both of the white man’s firesticks. Dolly had shaded Billy and her bullet had been the first to thud into the man’s chest.

  They stood side by side with Billy examining the side of his pistol, then looking at Dolly. “My leg slowed me some,” he explained.