A Frontier Christmas

by William W. Johnstone

  “You said according to the ones you were talking to back in the saloon,” Smoke said. “Are they part of the entourage?”

  “Are they what?”

  “Are they part of the people who live inside the outlaw fort?”

  “Nah, they don’t live there. But some of ’em goes in ’n out to deliver whiskey and possibles ’n sech.”

  “How do they get in?”

  “They’s a signal they give so’s the feller that’s on guard will let ’em pass.”

  “Do you know the signal?”

  “I know what it was when I was there. But they change it around.”

  “Makes sense,” Smoke said.

  “It don’t matter none. I know how to get us in so as they won’t see us.”

  “How is that? I thought you said that a guard posted on the obelisk could see anyone trying to come in,” Duff said.

  Elmer smiled. “If we come up on it while it’s dark, stay on the east side of the fork, ’n cling real close to the rocks, even on the brightest moon, there will be so many shadows that you can get all the way up the rocks themselves without bein’ seen. And once you’re on top of the rocks, why, they’ll block you from anyone aseein’ you.”

  “Elmer, I don’t care what the others say about you,” Duff teased. “I think you’re a good man.”

  “Duff, seein’ as we’re goin’ to be some outnumbered once the fightin’ starts, I was wonderin’ if you might like an idea I’ve got. It was somethin’ me ’n some of the boys I fought with done back durin’ the war.”

  “What’s that?” Duff asked.

  “I stopped by the hardware store to get these,” Elmer said, taking a couple boxes of brass tacks from a sack. He emptied the tacks onto the bed, then emptied a box of .44 cartridges alongside.

  “What you do is, you stick these here tacks into the end of the bullets. That’ll make ’em so that when one of ’em hits flesh, they’ll leave big holes, sometimes blow off an arm, or shatter a leg bone. That takes the fight out of ’ em just real fast.”

  Elmer demonstrated by pressing the brass tacks into the soft lead noses of the bullets. The heads of the tacks were about a third of an inch across and the nail part sunk into the lead better than half an inch.

  “What this does is, the brass head will go on inside the body, while the lead flies apart in all directions. It also makes a near miss near ’bout as deadly, ’cause if one of the bullets hits a rock wall, why, it’ll splinter out into lots of pieces that’ll still do the damage.”

  “Ordinarily, Elmer, I would disdain such a tactic,” Duff said. “But these black-hearted evil monsters are trying to ransom medicine that would cure my Meagan and dozens of other innocent people. So I say we do it.”

  For the next several minutes, the four men worked at modifying the ammunition. These bullets, they decided, would be used in their rifles . . . all of them .44 caliber Winchesters. They didn’t do anything to the bullets in their pistols.

  After they finished, they decided to leave and travel through the night until they reached their objective. After all, they couldn’t get lost. As Elmer had explained, all they had to do was follow the Laramie River.

  Once they reached the fork in the river, Elmer suggested that they stay there until just before dawn. “We got us damn near a full moon tonight. Best to wait until just before dawn. By then, the moon will be below the Laramie Mountains and won’t be shinin’ down so bright. We can use them shadows I was talkin’ about to sneak in.”

  When they bedded down, the sky was clear. Not only was there a nearly full moon, the night was filled with bright stars. They went to sleep quickly, aided by the fact that they were all tired from the long distances they had traveled during the day.

  As they slept, a front moved in from the northwest, and their slumber was visited by an unusually heavy fall of snow. The snow came down softly, silently, from the night sky, so that it was quite a surprise when they awoke the next morning to find themselves nearly buried in snow.

  “Damn!” Elmer said.

  “What’s wrong?” Matt asked.

  “This snow! I can sneak us in . . . but come daylight there will be tracks on the ground that the lookout can see. He’ll not only be able to see that we was here, why, he’ll even see where it was that we went.”

  “It can’t be helped,” Duff said. “We’ve got to go in. We have to get that medicine to Rawhide Buttes.”

  “You know, don’t you, Duff, that when they see that we’ve come in, they’ll get ready for us. They’ll put ever’body in all these positions they done got ready for such a thing. Why, it’ll be like the four of us tryin’ to attack a fort.”

  “Not four of us, just me,” Duff said. “I’ll nae be askin’ anyone else to go in with me.”

  “Now that’s a hell of a thing for you to say to me, Duff. I thought me ’n you was friends,” Elmer said. “Why would you say you don’t want me with you?”

  “I’m just saying that—”

  “I know what you was just sayin’,” Elmer said, interrupting Duff’s response. “Smoke, what do you ’n Matt think about him sayin’ he didn’t want us to go in with him?”

  Smoke chuckled. “Hell, Elmer, with that thick brogue of his, I don’t listen to him half the time, anyway.”

  Duff laughed. “All right, ’twould appear that ’tis a bunch of dunderheaded addle brains I’ve surrounded myself with. But then a fool attracts fools, I suppose. ’Tis welcome I’ll be for the company.”

  “Elmer, I’ve something important to ask you,” Matt said.

  “Oh? And what would that be, sonny?”

  “Come Christmas, do you think you could talk your friend Vi into giving me a free piece of pie?”

  “Matt, I’ll personally see to it that she gives you a whole pie. Any kind you want.”

  “That would be apple,” Matt said.

  “All right, men, let’s go,” Duff said.

  Saddling their horses, they followed Elmer through the darkness toward Sidewinder Gorge.

  Rawhide Buttes

  When Meagan opened her eyes, she again saw the woman with long red hair, flashing blue eyes, and a gleaming white gown. She knew it wasn’t a mere illusion. She knew she was seeing Skye, and was fairly certain she knew why.

  “Have you come for me?” Meagan asked. “Is it my time?”

  “Nae, Meagan, I’ve not come to take you, but to warn you. The young lass Laura Hastings needs help quickly. She can’t breathe, and no one is near.”

  “Laura?”

  “Aye. You’ll find the doctor in the narthex, drinking coffee. You must hurry.”

  “I’m not sure I can even walk,” Meagan said.

  “You can walk.”

  Meagan got up from the pew, amazed that the dizziness and the weakness seemed to have passed. She moved quickly through the center aisle, and saw Dr. Poindexter standing there, drinking coffee. “Doctor?”

  Dr. Poindexter looked at her in surprise. “Miss Parker, what are you doing up? You need as much rest as you can get.”

  “It’s the young Hastings girl,” Meagan said. “You must go to her quickly! She’s struggling for breath.”

  Dr. Poindexter set the coffee cup down, and started into the nave. “Jenny! Mrs. Jensen! It’s the Hastings girl! Hurry! We’ll be doing a trach!”

  Laura was on the right side of the church, lying in the second pew from the back, near the wall. Dr. Poindexter moved to her quickly, passing the other patients, who were asleep.

  Jenny arrived then with scalpel and a hollow tube. Sally came behind her, carrying the mixture of acid and water.

  “Is she still alive?” Jenny asked anxiously.

  “Yes, but she is struggling.” Working quickly, Dr. Poindexter made a small cut in the throat, then inserted the hose. With the hose inserted, he blew gently into the tube, supplying much-needed air.

  “You do this,” he said to Jenny, who began blowing softly into the tube.

  While Jenny provided breath for Laura, Dr. Poin
dexter began scraping the mucus buildup from her throat. After about five minutes of work, Laura began breathing normally.

  “George, she’s breathing on her own,” Jenny said.

  Dr. Poindexter nodded, then stood and looked down at her. “How in the world did she know?”

  “How did who know what?”

  “Miss Parker,” Dr. Poindexter said. “She is on the very front pew on the other side of the church, yet she is the one who came to tell me that Laura was struggling to breathe.”

  “She came to tell you? That’s impossible,” Sally said. “I was just with Meagan no more than half an hour ago. She didn’t even have the strength to sit up.”

  “Well, she’s right back there. You can ask her your—” Dr. Poindexter paused in mid-sentence and looked back toward the narthex. “Where is she?”

  Sally backed out of the pew and looked toward the front door of the church. She saw Megan lying on the floor.” “Doctor! Jenny! It’s Meagan!” she said as she hurried toward the collapsed woman.

  Because she was already in the center aisle, Sally was the first one to reach Meagan, and she knelt on the floor beside her. “Meagan! Meagan! Are you all right?”

  Meagan opened her eyes and looked up into Sally’s face. “Yes. Why are you asking me if I’m all right?”

  Sally chuckled in relief. “Because you are lying on the floor.”

  Meagan looked around. “What in the world am I doing here? How did I get here?”

  By then Dr. Poindexter had arrived as well. “You came to tell me about the little Hastings girl.”

  “Oh! What about her? Please don’t tell me she has died.”

  “She hasn’t, thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to me? What did I do?”

  “Miss Parker, are you telling me you don’t remember coming back here to tell me that Laura wasn’t breathing?”

  “No, I don’t have any memory whatever of coming back here. Besides, how would I know that?”

  “That’s a very good question,” Dr. Poindexter replied. “How would you know that?”

  “I’m confused,” Megan said.

  “Yes, aren’t we all? Mrs. Jensen, would you help my wife get Miss Parker back to her bed? Or at least, what is passing for a bed.”

  “Yes,” Sally said.

  With Sally on one side and Jenny on the other, the two women got Meagan back to her feet and started toward the front of the church.

  “Meagan, you don’t remember anything about coming back here to tell the doctor about the little girl?” Sally asked.

  “The last thing I remember is you talking to me a while ago. I have no idea how I got here. I don’t even remember getting up from the pew.”

  In fact, Meagan did remember seeing Skye, and leaving the pew to take the warning. But she knew if she explained it, they would think that her illness had affected her brain.

  She wasn’t too sure that it hadn’t.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Sidewinder Gorge

  Just as Elmer had promised, the shadows were there and the four men were able to move through the darkness. For the moment, the very snow that would give away their tracks also deadened the sound of the hoofbeats so that they were not only unseen, they were also unheard as they approached.

  Once they reached the base of the hill, Elmer assured them they were out of the line of sight from anyone who might be standing the lookout position on top of the pinnacle. Staying close to the stone wall, they continued on through the narrow pass until they were inside.

  They ground-hobbled their horses in a natural pocket that would keep their mounts safe from any shooting that might take place.

  Duff cocked his rifle, then moved out of the shelter provided by the rocks. He had a view of an open expanse of white undisturbed snow. Across the open area he saw four buildings, one considerably larger than the other three. From the chimney on the largest of the four buildings, a rope of black smoke climbed into the sky, turning quickly from the dove gray of dawn to the bright blue of a crisp, winter day.

  Duff also saw a stable, which was about three quarters of the way across the open area. If he and the others could get there without being seen, he was pretty sure that he would have a clear view and a commanding position, not only of the main building, but of the other three, as well. However, there was no way they would be able get there without leaving a trail through the snow, one that would lead directly to them and give away their position.

  “Lads,” he said. “If we can get to the stable, we’ll have a tenable position,” he said.

  “We’ll be leavin’ tracks behind us,” Elmer said.

  “It cannae be helped. We cannae do anything from here. The medicine is here and I don’t intend for us to leave without it. We’ve come too far to give up.”

  “We’re with you, Duff,” Smoke said, his voice calm and reassuring.

  “All right. Let’s go,” Duff said, starting toward the stable.

  They were halfway there when Duff heard a voice from behind.

  “Move quickly, Duff, for soon someone will be stepping out of the main building, ’n you’ll not be wanting to be caught out here, will you?”

  “Skye?”

  “Run, Duff. Run to the corner of the stable!”

  There was an urgency to the voice, spurring Duff into doing exactly as the voice warned. “Run!” he urged. “Someone is about to come out of the house.”

  None of the others questioned how Duff might know such a thing, and broke into a run behind him. The running was difficult. The snow was nearly knee deep, meaning that it not only made footing difficult and slippery, its very depth also impeded their progress.

  Finally, they reached the stable and moved behind it so that they were out of sight of anyone who might step out from the house. Someone did, and stepping no more twenty feet from the back of the house, he began urinating.

  “Damn. That’s Nitwit Mitt,” Elmer said quietly.

  “A friend of yours?” Duff asked.

  “Hardly a friend. I never could prove it, but I think he killed a woman friend of mine.”

  “How did you know he was about to come out?” Matt asked.

  “It was just a lucky guess,” Duff replied.

  “Hey, fellers! Don’t eat the yeller snow!” Nitwit Mitt called out. Cackling with glee, he followed the deep rut he had made in the snow back into the house.

  “Your friend Nitwit Mitt must be half blind,” Matt said. “How could he not have seen the trail we just left?”

  “Yeah, we’re lucky. I guess he had to pee so bad that he wasn’t paying any attention,” Smoke suggested.

  “I reckon so, but I don’t see how . . .” As he was speaking, Matt looked back in the direction from which he had just come, and gasped. “What? That isn’t possible!”

  “What is it?” Duff asked.

  “Look!” Matt pointed toward the snow. It lay behind them in an unbroken pristine whiteness! But, how could that be?

  Duff looked back at the snow. Though he had heard her voice before, for the first time Skye appeared before him. “Did you do that?”

  “What do you mean, did I do it?” Matt asked. “How could I do something like that?”

  “I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to her,” Duff said, pointing to the glowing image of Skye.

  “Talking to who?”

  “I’m talking to her,” Duff said again, pointing to Skye once more. “Do you not see her?”

  “Good Lord, Duff, have you gone daft on us? There’s nobody there,” Smoke said.

  “Never mind,” Duff said. “’Tis time to call the blaggards out.”

  The four men took positions in the stable. Smoke and Elmer climbed up to the hayloft, while Duff and Matt remained on the ground.

  “Dingo!” Duff called. “Dingo, you and all your men come out with your hands in the air!”

  “What? Who the hell is calling me?” Dingo shouted back from inside the house.”

  “They’re in the stable! I see th
em!” another voice said.

  Duff saw a window go up and the barrel of a rifle protrude through the opening. He didn’t wait for the outlaw to shoot. His round crashed through the window, then he heard a scream.

  “My arm! My arm! That bullet took off half my arm!”

  From the hayloft, Smoke saw somebody kneeling at another window. Whoever it was had a rifle, and Smoke snapped off a shot toward him. The man tumbled forward, crashing through the window and lying facedown and motionless on the front porch.

  Two men came running out of the back of the big house, starting toward one of the smaller houses.

  “I’ll take the one in the lead, you take the next one,” Duff said, raising his rifle to his shoulder. Both Duff and Matt fired at about the same time. Duff’s was a head shot, and even from that distance Duff could see blood and brain detritus spurting, fan-like, from the outlaw’s head. The man Matt shot grabbed his stomach, then fell forward, flipping over onto his back before he hit the ground.

  Nitwit Mitt got a shot off from the front door of the house, but before either Duff or Matt could respond, they heard Elmer shout from the loft above them. “Don’t nobody shoot him! That nitwit is mine!”

  Elmer took Nat Mitchell, alias Nitwit Mitt, out with one shot, the doctored bullet causing a huge wound in his chest.

  Duff saw T. Bob drop down out of a window on the side of the house and try to crawl away. Matt saw him as well, and aimed.

  “No, Matt. This one is personal.” Duff shot T. Bob, and saw a pool of blood turn the snow red. The outlaw stopped moving.

  “You kilt my brother!” Jesse yelled. In his anger, he ran from the front door toward the stable, firing his pistol. Duff lay down his rifle and stepped out of the stable, holding his arm crooked upward at the elbow with his pistol in his hand. Then, as if fighting a duel, he presented his side to the charging outlaw.

  Jesse continued to fire away as he charged toward Duff, and one shot was so close that Duff could hear the pop of the bullet as it passed within an inch of his ear. He returned fire, one shot. One shot was all that was needed. Jesse tumbled forward, where he lay facedown in the snow.