Diablo Smith

by Phil Dunlap

  Outside, he began the task of looking for tracks, horse or human. Kurtz walked with a slight limp. His tracks were easily separated from any others. He saw tracks of a woman, too, but always barefoot. Could Kurtz have been so frightened she’d run away that he wouldn’t let her have shoes, figuring that might be a deterrent to her wandering around in the desert? And, how would a kidnapper even know she was there if Kurtz never let her see the light of day? That part made no sense. As far as exacting a sizable amount in ransom money, any kidnapper would have to be seriously deranged. Kurtz was obviously barely getting by, with few prospects of that changing any time soon. Diablo decided kidnapping for ransom was unlikely, thus leaving only two other options: One, Kurtz killed his wife and was using Diablo to keep at bay any investigation into a possible murder by an earnest attempt at locating her, or, two, she did run off, perhaps alone, perhaps not.

  The only recent tracks were those of one horse and a buckboard, possibly the one in the barn. Those tracks led off to the northwest, toward a low range of rocky hills and ravines. He knew the territory well. He’d hunted renegade Indians there for the Army. It had been a dangerous place then and it wasn’t much safer now.

  He walked back to the house where Kurtz sat on the porch in a rocking chair, never taking his eyes off Diablo.

  “You want to look in my pockets to see if I lifted a spare horseshoe?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m studying your tracking techniques. Can’t say I like you, but there’s no doubt you know what you’re doin’.”

  “I can’t help wonderin’ where your livestock are. Horses, cattle, sheep? And don’t you have anybody helpin’ with the chores or tendin’ to livestock?”

  Kurtz took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Reckon it’s time you knew. I got no money to pay you for your help in findin’ Lenore. I lost everything in a poker game two months back.”

  “Everything?”

  “Lock, stock and barrel. Everything.”

  “Anyone else know about this turn of events?”

  “Most, I reckon. Hard to keep a secret in that den of thieves ands charlatans.”

  “Were you up front with Lenore?”

  “Yeah. She said it didn’t matter. That we’d make out.”

  “A good, forgivin’ wife, eh? I’m not so forgivin’. Whatever made you think I’d take on a job trackin’ a wayward wife for no pay?”

  “I’ll find a way to get you paid, maybe a bank loan or somethin’. You got my word.

  “Hope you don’t plan on goin’ back on that. It wouldn’t be your best decision. Now, one more question before we set out to find her. Did you ever strike your wife?”

  Kurtz went from contrite to furious in the time it would take to swat a fly. He slammed his hand against the door.

  “Where the hell did you get an idea like that?” His clenched fists and red face made an impression on Diablo. Do I believe one man or a town full of people with no particular reason to concoct a false story?

  “All right, you’ve answered my question by your outburst. Let’s saddle up and start tracking,” Diablo said, as he swung into the saddle after one last securing tug of the cinch.

  ***

  He tapped his horse in the ribs lightly to make her begin the slow, tedious job of crisscrossing the most plausible direction that whoever might have taken Lenore would choose, if indeed someone did. There’d been no rain for nearly three weeks and the ground was hard, unwilling to give up its closely held secret regarding the comings and goings of humans. Kurtz tried to keep his impatience from showing, but was unable keep his mouth shut. That was likely the character trait that had gone toward making enemies of the townsfolk. After several hours, the disgruntled rancher blurted out, “When in the hell are you going to pick up their trail? You can’t tell me there isn’t one single trace of whoever took her. Now, dammit, get to doing whatever it is you’re supposed to be getting’ paid to do!”

  “Shut the hell up, Kurtz. I already know a lot more than I did when we left. I don’t choose to tell you everything. Now, keep you mouth closed or so help me, I’ll leave you out here alone to find your wife.”

  Kurtz sat up straight. He clenched his teeth. He wasn’t used to being talked to like that. At first, Diablo considered making Kurtz ride ahead of him to reduce the risk of getting shot in the back, but thought better of that after he looked back and saw the anger had subsided. Kurtz once again looked like a beaten puppy.

  When they came to a ravine with a wandering creek and a line of cottonwoods and good grass along the banks, he decided they’d camp for the night, as the light was already getting dim. Diablo slipped from his saddle and hobbled his horse. He pulled his saddle off and tossed his saddlebags over a hefty hunk of deadfall. He looked over at Kurtz, who had as yet not dismounted, still astride his mount staring into the gathering darkness like a statue, and thought of dressing the man down once more. Finally, he merely shrugged his shoulders and set to picking up sticks and limbs to make a fire. He went to the stream and scooped up a pot full of water, tossed in a handful of coffee beans, along with a pinch of chicory–a habit he’d gotten into in the Army–and set the pot on a ring of stones and placed it next to the flames. Diablo watched Kurtz’s glum expression for a few moments before speaking up.

  “You bring along anything to eat?”

  “You didn’t say I needed to,” the rancher answered, clearly taken aback by Diablo’s question.

  “Didn’t sign on to be your nanny, Kurtz. Sit down. I’m goin’ to heat up a can of beans. Coffee’ll be ready in a few minutes. I’m willin’ to share, but you shoulda figured this wasn’t goin’ to be a short ride and come prepared.”

  Kurtz hung his head. He wasn’t used to being shown the error of his ways so many times in just a few hours. The belittling given him by the half-breed tracker was pushing to his limit.

  ***

  The next morning the sun was veiled by a thick fog. Diablo know it would burn off quickly and allow another blistering day to emerge. He wanted to be well under way before that happened. As they prepared to ride, Kurtz spoke up. “Do you know where we’re headed?”

  “I’m just following a certain track, one which began at your ranch and is headed toward the bottoms, just over that next set of hills.”

  “Wh-what tracks? I haven’ seen any tracks.”

  “That’s because you don’t know what to look for. Fortunately for you, I do.”

  Kurtz was bewildered by Diablo’s claim. He looked down and all around, shaking his head and mumbling something unintelligible every few seconds. He dismounted several times, leaning close to the sandy soil, sometimes getting down on his knees and muttering. Diablo chuckled at the rancher’s curious behavior.

  “See anything, yet, Kurtz?”

  “No, and I damned well don’t think you do either. Why if there were any tracks out here, I’d see ’em sure as hell. You just want to make a fool of me. And it’s best you know, I won’t stand for it.”

  “We’ll see how you feel when I find your wife.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to find Lenore. It appears to me we’re jus’ goin’ around in circles. You think I’m goin’ to pay you for jus’ lookin’?”

  “I remember you hirin’ me and promisin’ to pay my fee, which, by the way, you will do, no matter what we find. If you don’t, the consequences could be fatal. I don’t take kindly to welshers,” the tracker said, dropping his hand ever so gently onto the butt of his revolver

  Kurtz’s eyes grew wide at Diablo’s declaration. He swallowed hard and began breathing heavily. “You-you wouldn’t dare,” he spluttered.

  “You keep on thinkin’ that’a way. Now, it’s time you do something more useful than be a constant thorn in my hide. I want you to ride back to your ranch and wait for me there. Also, if there is a kidnapper, that’s where he’ll be expectin’ you to be so he can make his demands.”

  “How the hell can I get up any money to get her back? The whole town knows
I’m flat busted.”

  “I don’t think that’s what a kidnapper’ll be lookin’ for. Now git.” Diablo spurred his horse to a trot toward the hills ahead. He didn’t want to hear any more objections from Kurtz. When he looked back, the morose rancher had spun his horse around was heading back to his ranch at a trot. About time he started listening. Diablo nodded as he changed his course to get back on the trail he’d been following all along.

  Diablo slowly continued on. He looked back every now and then to make certain Kurtz hadn’t doubled back. He studiously stayed on the track that was being laid out before him. He hadn’t told Kurtz that there were many subtle clues as to what had happened to his wife and he fully intended to keep it that way. The trail wound around almost as if the person who had snatched Lorene Kurtz needed to make damned sure there’d be no one coming up behind him. The tracker had traveled nearly ten miles when he came upon a tiny line shack nearly hidden in a copse of trees and brush. It looked as if it hadn’t been used for years.

  He rode closer, being mindful of his surroundings and the many places where it would be easy for someone bent on an ambush to stake out the trail. He reined in and dismounted, dropping his reins; his well-trained horse stood in place. Keeping low he moved cautiously and silently nearer and nearer the cabin. He was surprised at seeing no evidence of any activity for some weeks. He saw no horses and no wagon, although there were subtle signs of a wagon that had been carefully covered. Since it was obviously merely a line cabin used by cowboys taking care of a herd, he saw nothing to alarm him to danger and no sign of any cowboys using the place recently. He made a run for the cabin and burst through the only door.

  The termite-riddled piece of wood was instantly ripped from its flimsy and worn leather hinges. His revolver was in his hand when, as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness inside, he came face-to-face with a gut-wrenching sight. There, across the room, barely able to sit up on an iron bed frame without a mattress was a once lovely woman leaning against the wall. Lenore. He eased over to her. Her eyes were barely open but they managed to follow him with half-closed lids. She made no move to scoot away from this stranger, obviously too weak to make any attempt at escape. An empty canteen lay near her bare feet. Diablo’s anger welled up in him like a volcano about to erupt. He went back out to retrieve his own canteen from the saddle horn. He returned to find the lady had not moved.

  “Here, ma’am, sip this slowly.”

  He lifted the canteen to her parched lips. The first few drops dribbled down her chin, then after several tries she raised a hand to help hold the precious container. Slowly she drank by herself.

  “Do you know if there’s a well outside where I can get more fresh water?”

  She stared at him questioningly. Then, slowly shook her head. Some son-of-a-bitch is going to pay dearly for this. He looked around to see what else was in the cabin. To his amazement, there was noting. No sign of any of her personal belongings from the Kurtz homestead. No clothing, no food, nothing to enable her to sustain life for any period of time. He immediately set about finding a way to get some food in her and then to get her safely back to town. He’d brought some coffee beans, some flour, a couple of cans of peaches, several cans of beans and some beef jerky. He’d not planned on being out more than a few days and never considered needing to feed another person.

  Out behind the crudely built cabin, he found a small stack of wood meant for building a fire, but the stove that had obviously once sat in the center of the single room had been taken out. The only way he could start a fire was outside. He gathered rocks to build a fire ring, stacking them two and three high to make an artificial hearth for his coffee pot, something everyone traveling alone on the frontier kept handy. As the wood began to catch, even though it was old and somewhat damp from lying on the ground for a long time, he used the rest of the water in his first canteen, splashed it into the pot, along with a handful of coffee and a little chicory and set it near the blaze.

  When the coffee was starting to bubble, he went back inside to see if he could get the lady to come outside. As he entered, she’d already started for where the door had once been. The smell of coffee must have drawn her to it. She smiled a very feeble smile when she saw him. Too weak to make it outside without a hand, Diablo put an arm around her slim waist and guided her step by step around to the back of the cabin where he’d made a place to sit under the lone tree.

  “I-I don’t know–”

  “My name is Diablo Smith. I’m a tracker. I look for lost things and try to get them back to their rightful owner.”

  “Did Mr. Kurtz hire you to find me?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked away as her eyes were flooded with tears. She began to sob uncontrollably and shook as if with a severe fever. She buried her pretty face in her hands.

  “What if I don’t want to go?”

  “Then you don’t have to. Can you tell me what happened to you? Was this done by your husband?”

  “He might just as well have. He stood by and did nothing to stop them. He’s a craven coward.”

  “How many were there?”

  “Three.”

  “Did you recognize them?”

  “Oh, yes. The leader had stopped by on several occasions and forced me lie with him. Said if I didn’t, he’d kill Joshua. I believed him. When I realized Joshua had to know what was happening to me, I quit caring whether the man killed him or not. The next time the man came by seeking my favors, I refused. I struck him in the face with an iron frying pan; got him good, too. He left but came back later with two others and that’s when they took me, bound hand and foot and dropped me here in this wretched place to fend for myself. They left me tied, but I managed to free my hands and then my feet. But with very little food or water beyond what was in the canteen, and me barefoot, I realized quickly that escape was impossible. I just waited for the end to come.”

  “So, you didn’t know the man?”

  “No. Never saw him before he started coming by the ranch.”

  “You never saw him in town?”

  “I-I’ve never been to town. Joshua said it was a den of sin and I wasn’t allowed to go.”

  Diablo mulled all the information the woman had given him. He was puzzled by her husband’s attitude toward her. Where did Kurtz acquire all his anger? It was as if the devil himself was inside him. But there was more to be learned from this badly abused lady before he dared take her into town. And he certainly couldn’t return her to the Kurtz ranch.

  “Lenore, what do you know about Joshua before he married you? Had he been married before?”

  “He never talked about it, but I had the unsettling feeling he might have been.”

  “So, he didn’t come right out and tell you?”

  “No, but when he’d get into one of his furies, he’d say things that led me to believe he’d had another wife way back.”

  Like what did he say?”

  “Oh, things like, ‘you ain’t the first bitch to rile me’ and then he’d start cussing a blue streak. That’s when he’d slap me around some because I’d dared disagree with him.”

  “I’ve known men like him before. Nothin’ good ever comes to ’em. He’ll be paid back for his treachery.”

  “H-how did you find me?”

  “The little beads you managed to drop along the way. I don’t know how you managed with your hands tied, but it was pretty clever.”

  “I had on a beaded shawl and was afforded just enough freedom to rip some of them off and let them roll off onto the ground. I’m so grateful you noticed.”

  “Fortunately, your husband didn’t see them.”

  “Do you intend to take me back to Joshua, now?”

  “No, I don’t see how I can give you over to someone who’d probably beat on you again. But that does present a problem: how to get you to someplace safe without exposing you to Joshua or the men who kidnapped you.”

  Her blank expression and the fear in her eyes told Diablo she wouldn’t b
e much help, especially since she’d not had any freedom to meet neighbors or go into town to form friendships. It was a dilemma the likes of which he’d never faced, before. Her helplessness was bound to sorely test his resourcefulness. Suddenly a solution presented itself that surprised even him. The subtle smile that came over his face brought a quizzical look from Lenore.

  “I think I might have a way to bring the men to justice and still keep you safe. A woman shouldn’t ever have to live in fear. So, I suggest we take you to church.”

  Lenore eyes got big. “But, I-I don’t think any church would have a woman like me. You see before I married Joshua, I, uh, lived a sinful life. A fallen angel some might call me.

  “What you were before is of no consequence. I have a friend who is a preacher. He won’t look upon you any differently than he would anyone in need. That’s the kind of man he is. I think we can hide you in the church until such time as it takes to locate your kidnappers, which I don’t expect to be long.”

  “How will we get there? Won’t people notice the two of us riding one horse into town?”

  “We’ll plan to arrive well after dark and circle around, coming in from the far side of town. At that time of night, folks will pay us no mind. If you think you’re strong enough to handle the ride, we’ll start right away.”

  “I can make it. I’ve seen tough times before.”

  ***

  Since Diablo had taken a seemingly aimless and wandering route to the cabin in the first place, while trying to throw Kurtz off his tracking techniques, and watching the supposedly broken-hearted husband for signs that he actually knew where Lenore had been held, the trail they took back to town was far less circuitous. They reached the outskirts at the time Diablo had predicted, just after midnight. There were few lights to be seen, mainly those of establishments that customarily stayed open until all hours, like saloons, bordellos, and the hotel. He’d been right, there were no citizens on the streets and their trek to the church went unnoticed.