Devils on Horseback: Nate

by Beth Williamson

  Elisa’s dry throat prevented her from swallowing. She grabbed a handful of grass from behind her and sucked on the wet leaves. She made her way around the cow, her trousers sticking to her legs. The dampness seeped through and soaked them, a combination of her own rancid sweat and the sweet dew.

  She caught herself chanting, “Please be all right, Da. Please be all right, Da. Please be all right, Da,” and nearly slapped herself to stop. The last thing she needed was somebody hearing her, particularly if they were brutal enough to murder cattle. There was no purpose in that, other than to hurt whoever owned them.

  One by one, she found the cattle carcasses, slaughtered mercilessly. Most of them were still warm so it couldn’t have been more than an hour since it had happened. Elisa wanted to weep in frustration when her count reached forty. Her back ached and her legs cramped. As near as she could tell, there wasn’t a living creature in the field besides herself. That meant all two hundred cows were either dead or the rest had been rustled. Every bit of the future of the Taggert ranch had been decimated.

  In the middle of working up a fine fit, she heard a moan. Her head snapped up. It didn’t sound like a cow; it sounded human. Still keeping in a crouched position, she moved toward the sound, that small glimmer of hope that her father wasn’t dead.

  Unable to stop herself, she again repeated under her breath, “Please be all right, Da. Please be all right, Da.”

  Within two minutes, she found him lying on his back in a circle of dead carcasses. The moon shone on the dew covering his body. Beside him lay his horse, as still as the rest of the animals littering the field. Elisa touched his leg and it twitched.

  “Da, can you hear me?”

  She crawled forward until she could reach his face. The smell of blood clogged her nose as tears rolled down her cheeks unheeded.

  “Da, please answer me.” Elisa grabbed his hand, which was limp and lifeless, and pressed it to her chest. “Please, Da, please.”

  “Elisa…” he said in a cracked whisper. “I knew you’d be coming.”

  She leaned down and put her ear close to his mouth. “We need to get you home. I’m going to go get Midnight and—”

  “No, I’m dying, Elisa… They killed them. Rodrigo and O’Shea’s bastards killed almost every cow and held me back. Made me watch. They stabbed me, re-broke my leg and then broke t’other.”

  Elisa sobbed at the horror and pain he’d endured. “Oh, Da.” She promised herself Rodrigo would feel the bite of her bullet soon.

  “Be quiet now and listen to me. You have to take care of Daniel again. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”

  “It’s all right. We were there for you. That’s what family”—she swallowed hard—“is all about.”

  “You are my sweet Elisa girl. I love you, daughter. You have your mother’s eyes. I wish I could see them. You promise me, promise me you’ll take Daniel and leave. The land isn’t worth your lives. I want to make sure that you’re safe.”

  “Da, I can’t promise you that. Please don’t make me promise.” Elisa’s heart was being rent asunder.

  “Will your man help you?” he said in a voice lower than a whisper.

  “Yes, he will. He and his friends, all five of them, will help us. Don’t worry. We’ll be all right.” She clutched his hand, willing him to live, trying desperately to push her own life force through his arm and into his body.

  “Goodbye, darlin’. I love you, Elisa girl.” With one last tiny breath, he was gone.

  At first, Elisa couldn’t believe that he’d died. She shook his shoulders, shouting his name. Tiny droplets splashed on her face and she realized it was blood, mixing with her tears. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her sleeve then put her face in her hands and wept.

  Elisa threw back her head and howled at the moon. She’d never felt the kind of agony that swept through her at the murder of her father. Even after her mother had died, Elisa had grieved, but it didn’t compare to losing her beloved da. She didn’t know how long she sat there, weeping like a little girl. The cool night air reminded her that she was wet, that she knelt in the blood of her father. Around her the blood of two hundred cows mingled with the dew.

  Death surrounded her.

  When the overwhelming wave of grief finally subsided, she took several deep breaths to try and gain control of herself. On the heels of the paralyzing sadness came the hot, wicked need for vengeance.

  Elisa stood, knife and pistol in hand. “All right, you bastards. If you’re still out there, come and get me. I want to dance in your blood.”

  Nothing. Not a sound. Whoever had murdered Da and the cattle was long gone. She knew if she simply headed out to O’Shea’s ranch, they’d likely shoot her before she could even get close to him. The old Elisa would’ve done just that, gone off half-cocked and angry as a bee’s nest.

  The new Elisa, the woman born from the shell of a girl, knew that her best bet to quench her thirst for vengeance was to ride with the Devils.

  Elisa headed toward home with the certainty that Daniel was all right. No way God would take away everyone she loved in one fell swoop. That would be beyond cruel and she couldn’t accept the possibility. Midnight ran fast and true, his long legs eating up the ground.

  The cabin lay dark, the sounds of the night protecting it. A good sign. The panic scratching at her hissed at the reprieve. Elisa dismounted fifty yards away and left her horse ground tied. She crept toward the cabin a bit more hastily than in the field simply because nothing seemed amiss. Yet she was still cautious.

  Ten feet from the back, she stopped and hooted the signal. A minute passed, then two. Daniel could be asleep—he’d been working harder than a grown man. She crawled forward until she sat below his window.

  “Hoooooooooo, hoohoohoo.”

  A bang, a thud, then the window slid open.

  “Elisa?”

  The sound of Daniel’s voice was like the angels singing on high.

  “Daniel, thank God.” Her voice caught and the damn tears threatened again. She swallowed it all back with phenomenal effort.

  “What’s wrong?” He must’ve heard something in her voice.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  She ran around the side of the house. By the time she got to the door, Daniel was there wearing only his drawers and a worried look.

  “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

  When her legs gave out, Elisa nearly fell into his arms. “Daniel, they… Da…” Her throat closed again.

  “Is that blood? My God, Elisa, do you have blood all over you?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into the house. The room was illuminated only by the meager light thrown by the embers of the fire.

  Daniel was more mature than any fourteen-year-old boy. He held her while her body shook with shock and grief, while she again wept buckets of tears. He stroked her back and waited.

  “They murdered him. Those bastards murdered him and the cattle.”

  “What?” He stiffened and helped her up so he could look her in the eye. Da’s green eyes looked back at her. A boy too soon a man, forced to grow up or die.

  “In the field. They stabbed Da in the chest and slit the cow’s throats then left them all to die.”

  Daniel punched his knee with the bottom of his fist. “Who?”

  “Rodrigo and some pieces-of-shit mercenaries. O’Shea decided he was done waiting for us to leave.” She took comfort in Daniel’s embrace, grateful he was still there by her side.

  “He’s gone too far this time. I’m gonna kill him.” Daniel stood with a look of absolute wrath.

  “Not yet, Daniel.”

  “Why not?”

  “The men who were working for O’Shea, the ones I caught in the trap? They’re now on our side and they’re going to help us. One of them even found proof in papers and such.” Her stomach cramped at
the thought of those damn papers and what they represented.

  “Isn’t O’Shea paying them? Why would they give up money for us?” Daniel scoffed.

  Elisa hadn’t thought about that. Why were Nate and his friends turning away money when they so obviously needed it? Nate’s clothes were neat and clean, but even she could see the wear on them. The Devils had some supplies, but they were living in a camp, not at a hotel or at O’Shea’s house.

  “I don’t know for sure. I think it’s for honor and justice.”

  “That’s stupid. Nobody does anything for honor and justice.” Daniel faced the window with his arms folded.

  “I do.”

  When he turned back, his face crumpled and Elisa found herself comforting him. Just like that he’d changed from angry man to lost boy. She held him tightly, hanging on to the last bit of family she had left.

  Nate couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He glanced at his friends sleeping in the glowing embers of the campfire. Near the tree line, he saw Jake keeping guard. Nate had no idea what time it was but he did know there was no way he was going back to sleep.

  He slipped on his boots and headed toward Jake. The dew-covered grass masked his footsteps. It seemed so peaceful, so normal, however Nate knew that was a sham. Life was anything but normal or peaceful. It was chaotic and frustrating.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” Jake said in a low voice.

  “No.” Nate sat on the rock beside his friend. “Something’s wrong.”

  Jake stiffened. “What?”

  Nate shook his head. “I don’t know. I just feel something in here.” He put a fist to his chest.

  “Is it the woman?”

  “What do you mean?” Nate wondered just how much Jake knew.

  “I’ve seen the way you look at her, Nate, like she’s your mate. Don’t tell me you two haven’t been together a lot. I can almost smell it on you.” Jake chuckled softly. “Not that I blame you. We’ve been living like monks.”

  Nate grabbed Jake’s arm and squeezed. “Step carefully, Jake.” He couldn’t keep the anger from his voice. No way would he allow even his friends to disparage what he and Elisa shared.

  “Oh, so that’s the way things are? I’m sorry, Nate. I didn’t know.” Jake sounded contrite.

  Nate’s anger dissipated. “It’s all right. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just…I don’t know. She spins me in circles one minute then brings me to the most intense pleasure I’ve ever had the next. A complete contradiction in everything she does.” He ran his hands down his face. “At the same time, I can’t imagine what I’m going to do without her after this is all over.”

  “You’ve got it bad.”

  “I know, believe me, I know.” Nate sighed heavily. “I need to go see her, to satisfy this gnawing feeling that she needs me. More than likely, she’ll laugh and shoot my hat off.”

  Jake laughed. “She does have that shiny quality, doesn’t she?”

  “It’s one of the things I love about her.”

  The entire world paused as Nate heard the words that had tumbled from his mouth. Entirely unexpected, they hit him like a slap. He loved her? Nathaniel Marchand, the gentleman, loved a rough and tumble cowhand from Texas who wore men’s britches?

  Holy God. He did love her.

  The urgency of his need to see her grew to enormous proportions and he couldn’t wait any longer. Even if it was three in the morning, he absolutely had to go.

  “I’ll be back by sunrise so we can talk about the plan Zeke is dreaming up.” He took off running before Jake even responded.

  “Good luck.”

  Nate saddled Bonne Chance and was on his way within minutes. The horse seemed a bit put off to be riding in the pitch dark, but Nate took it as slow as he could to save his horse from a broken leg. A trip that normally took forty-five minutes, took about twice as long in the dark. At least that’s what it felt like to Nate.

  When he crested the hill and saw the familiar Taggert cabin in the moonlight, he couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that escaped. Everything looked normal. A whinny from his right made him freeze. Bonne Chance responded and Nate realized that the horses knew each other.

  “Elisa?”

  When no one responded, he went toward the sound and found Midnight, riderless. Nate’s stomach flipped and the feeling of dread slammed into him even harder. No way she’d let her horse be alone in the field at night. Too many predators, two legged and four legged.

  He sidled up to Midnight and grabbed his reins. The black horse shied a bit, but quieted after hearing Nate’s soothing voice. The reins felt sticky in his hands and when he pulled them up to examine them, his worst fears bloomed.

  They smelled of blood.

  With a pounding heart, he slid off Bonne Chance and did a quick search of the immediate area. No body, thank God. He did see slight foot impressions in the wet grass leading toward the house. Too small to be a man’s. That meant she walked to the house. He whooshed out a sigh of relief.

  Nate took both horses by the reins and walked carefully, keeping his eyes and ears open. The only sounds were made by crickets and frogs, with an occasional bat. If Elisa had left her horse out unattended, covered in blood, then everything was amiss.

  The horses followed behind him without putting up a fuss. When he made it to the front of the house, he tied them to the cottonwood tree.

  The house appeared dark except for a flicker in the window from what he assumed was the remains of the fire in the fireplace. He wasn’t sure if he should walk in, but figured his safest choice was to knock. Elisa might shoot if he just walked in the door. Hysterical laughter bubbled at the thought. He hoped like hell she was able to hold a gun and shoot him.

  He rapped lightly on the door. “Elisa?”

  Several agonizing moments passed that allowed Nate to count his breaths and his heartbeats—the heart was definitely winning that race. The door swung open and a shotgun greeted him.

  “Elisa, it’s me.”

  The clatter of the gun on the floor surprised him, but when she launched herself into his arms, he was overjoyed. He held her tight, thanking his Maker over and over for keeping her safe. When he’d found the blood, the horse, he’d thought the worst. Nate had lost so much in the last five years that losing her would damn near kill him.

  His brain tried to wander off into what he’d do when their job was finished, but he closed it off with a snap. No need to borrow trouble, they already had buckets of it. He stepped into the house and closed the door.

  “What’s wrong, honey? I found Midnight—”

  “Shit! I left him up there. Oh God, I didn’t—”

  “It’s all right. I brought him home safely. He’s tied up with Bonne Chance outside.” He stroked her back, grateful to have her wrapped around him like a baby possum.

  “Thank you, Nate.”

  Was she crying? Elisa was crying? His panic returned tenfold. “Elisa, tell me what’s wrong.”

  Elisa told him in halting speech that her father and the cattle had been slaughtered in the grazing field. Left to die in the sweet grass, held by the moonlight and dew. Nate understood her agony all too well and held her tightly, grieving right along with her. Losing his father had almost destroyed him, he didn’t want that to happen to her too.

  “Ah, Elisa, I’m so sorry. So sorry.” He sat on the sofa and cradled her on his lap.

  “Are you and your friends really going to help us?”

  Daniel’s raspy voice startled Nate. He should have realized the two of them would be holed up together.

  “Yes, we are. We made a promise to Elisa that carries to you as well. O’Shea is into some dirty dealings and we are committed to stopping him.” Nate felt certain every word was the truth. There was nothing worse than a bully, except maybe one who used illegal means to gain what he wanted.


  “All of you?”

  “Yes, all of us.” He held out his hand in the semi-darkness. “Nathaniel Marchand. You can call me Nate.”

  A moment passed, then two, until finally the boy shook his hand, showing a surprisingly strong grip for a young teenager. Calluses spoke as loudly as the trembling. He was a boy trying to be a man in a situation that would test anyone’s mettle.

  “Daniel Taggert. I suppose you realize you’re holding my sister like a newborn babe. I should take offense at that, sir.” His voice held no rancor, just exhaustion, anger and a touch of fear.

  “Shut up, Daniel.” Elisa laid her head on Nate’s shoulder.

  “You two should try to get some sleep. I’ll keep watch until dawn.”

  Daniel grunted and snatched the quilt from the back of the sofa. “I’m keeping my eye on you, Georgia man.” He threw himself into the overstuffed chair on the other side of the fireplace. Within minutes, he closed his eyes.

  “I can’t sleep, Nate. I…I need to get clean.”

  Nate hadn’t mentioned the smell of blood because truth be told, he’d become immune to it. It used to make his nose wrinkle and his stomach clench. Now it was like any other smell on Earth…normal. He understood how she felt though.

  The first time he’d killed a man in combat, the Yankee’s wound sprayed blood like a gushing fountain. Nate was covered in it and spent hours in the creek scrubbing himself raw. He could still remember how the hot splash of the crimson liquid felt and the way it dripped down his hands.

  “Let’s get you a bath then.”

  Together they heated water on the stove by lamplight. Two buckets of hot, one of cold, then repeated it until the wooden tub was full. Wisps of steam rose from the clean water, beckoning like a siren. Nate started to leave the kitchen but she stopped him.

  “Help me.”

  He didn’t expect Elisa said that very often and he accepted her request with the honor it was due. He removed her clothes, which were crusted and caked with blood and dirt. After setting them aside, he picked her up and lowered her into the bath, careful not to splash the floor. She looked up at him with the saddest blue eyes he’d ever seen.