The Smartest Horse in Texas (The Traherns #2)

by Nancy Radke

  “I didn’t put up...”

  “Yes, you did.”

  He swallowed, handed me twenty more.

  “Thank you.”

  I turned to leave and just about ran into John as he charged into the room. “Marianne’s gone. She took the filly.”

  Cummings jumped to his feet. “How could she? She knew I was planning to breed that mare.”

  “Where do you think she went?” I asked.

  “Back to the Kiowas, I reckon. She used to try to run away when we first got her back. She won’t find them. They’re gone.” He paced to the front porch and looked off into the darkness. “Stupid, worthless woman.”

  “I’ll go get her,” I said. For myself, not for him.

  “She’s not worth it. But if you can bring the filly back, I’ll give you two dollars.”

  “What’s the mare worth?”

  “Ten at least. It’s a good horse.”

  I pulled out one of the ten dollar gold pieces he had just given me and handed it to him.

  “This pays for the filly. If I find Dawn, we’ll not be coming back.”

  “So it’s ‘Dawn’ now, is it? Get off my place.”

  “Gladly. But first write me out a bill of sale for the filly.”

  We went back inside and he did, muttering all the time. I took the paper, read it, folded it and took it out to the bunkhouse. I had a courier’s pouch I had kept over from the war. I’d placed all my important papers in it, as it was oilskin and nigh perfect waterproof. I took long enough to put Misty’s bill of sale into it before I packed my things.

  I gathered my gear, filled my canteens, made one brief stop to grab my Bible and Dawn’s notebook, and rode off down the road. I wasn’t that far behind her, but the dust was already settled and I stopped Hero, wondering just which way to go. The stars were showing by now, their brilliance increasing as the night deepened. Starlight actually gives off enough light out in the open for a horse to travel by, and there was a glow in the east, like a small fire, that told me the moon would soon be a rising.

  Hero pulled on the reins, eager to go, and I remembered that the filly had just come back into heat.

  I eased the reins and let him have his head. He turned west on the trail headed toward the mountains, and I just let him go.

  She had a good start on us, but ever so often I’d check the trail. Misty’s unshod hoof prints stood out atop all the others. Hero trotted fast, I think faster than he’d ever gone before, and I just eased back in the saddle and let him run under me.

  She had probably gotten a half-hour’s start on us, so I didn’t look for her at first. After an hour or so, Hero nickered and started to gallop. I could smell dust now, so knew we were closing in.

  More dust than a single horse would make. I topped a rise and looked out over the flat prairie in front of us, now lit by the bright moon.

  There she was, surrounded by nine Indians.

  Were they helping her or had they captured her?

  The flat plain was a flood plain for the Brazos. I could see it moving down the middle of the valley like a huge, wide snake.

  They were headed straight for it. Was it shallow enough to cross?

  I urged Hero into a flat-out run, hoping we could reach them in time.

  There. They’d seen me. Some were pointing at me while others were going down the riverbank.

  As I drew close I could see that someone had built a two-horse ferry. They were taking the horses across on this, Misty and Dawn included.

  I got to the river’s edge just as the last of them ferried across. I looked at the rope system that had been set up. The ropes appeared good and stout and I took hold of them to pull the ferry back over to my side.

  It was not to be. Laughing, they cut the ferry loose and let it drift away on the river. Then they waved to me and rode away.

  Dawn hadn’t waved. She had looked at me, but hadn’t moved her hands. I figured they were tied down.

  That river was flooding, carrying a huge volume of water. It was not shallow nor was it tame.

  I dismounted and waited until the Indians had ridden off with their prize. They figured I couldn’t cross here. Well, maybe not, but I would die trying.

  I pulled off my boots and tied on my moccasins, then tied my boots and guns to the saddle horn to keep them as dry as possible. I waited while Hero’s breathing steadied down. I’d do Dawn no good, getting river drowned.

  He pawed impatiently at the ground, so I climbed on and headed him into the water.

  “Well, Hero, do you want that filly bad enough?”

  He leaped out and in with a big splash, then started swimming. I kicked my feet out of the stirrups and slid off his tail, grabbing it and hanging on, letting him pull me across. As soon as my weight was off him, his back rose out of the water and he swam easily, strong, powerful strokes that carried him out into the middle where the current was stronger.

  I watched upstream for logs or other debris, coming down on us, but most floated so low I couldn’t see them until they hit us. We drifted downstream as he swam, so he came out quite a ways down from where he entered. He clambered up the bank, pulling me along with him, then shook like a big dog, flinging water every which way.

  I looked back at that river. Those Indians probably figured I was on my way home by now. They wouldn’t be expecting me.

  I dropped the reins on Hero and climbed further up the bank, scouting ahead. It was still dark out, but the moon was full, so I could see them as easily as they had spotted me earlier.

  They were riding out of the flood plain area and into the brush beyond. I waited until I figured they’d all cleared it, then mounted Hero and put him back into his trot.

  I slowed down as we reached the brush on the edge of the plain. I didn’t want to barge in there with Hero and give them another horse to steal.

  Dismounting, I slipped down the trail, checking it out, then stopped, my nerves on full alert.

  A small glow showed where their fire was. They were laughing and talking, secure in having left me on the other side of the river.

  I counted them. Eight, plus Dawn. Where was number nine?

  Glad I had my moccasins on, as I could feel the brush under my feet, I pulled back from the camp and circled it, looking for number nine. He was with the horses, stroking Misty.

  Now to get Dawn away. I’d probably have to forgo Misty’s escape.

  They had tied Dawn to a small tree. I circled around and came up behind her, took my knife and slit the bonds.

  “Matthew,” she whispered, “cut Misty free. Then run.”

  It meant me crawling back to where the horses were, but by then number nine had rejoined the group at the fire.

  The horses snorted as I got close, uncertain of who I was. I untied Misty, pulled her head down, then tied the reins behind her ears so she wouldn’t think she was ground-tied. I was circling back to the trail where I’d come in, knowing I was pushing my luck, when a shout from the campfire told me somebody was figuring things out.

  Misty had moved into the middle of camp, and they were standing there, looking at her. Dawn whistled.

  The filly threw up her head, causing the Indian trying to catch her to miss, then she ran to Dawn who swung on and rode out, headed down the trail.

  I followed, as fast as I could run, being one jump ahead of the raiding party. As I reached Hero, I turned and fired into the brush with my rifle. I heard a yelp, and figured I’d at least winged one. I fired several more times, then mounted and rode off after her.

  Dawn rode Misty as fast as she would go, across the flood plain and up to the river.

  She looked around as I joined her. “How did you cross?”

  “Hero swam it. We’re going to have to swim back.”

  “There’s no way...”

  “Get off.”

  She jumped off. “There’s quicksand in this river. And snakes. Water moccasins.”

  Now she told me. I pulled my rope off my saddle and dropped it over
Misty’s head. Lifting one of her front feet, I made it so the noose wouldn’t strangle her.

  We could hear the Indians coming, their yells of anger preceding them. They had had to go back for their horses, once they saw us ride off.

  I took the rifle and shot in their direction, pumping it to fire as fast as I could, hoping it would slow them down. It made them cautious, and they backed off.

  “Get on the downstream side of Hero and tie one hand to the saddle.”

  She pulled off her heavy skirt, then tied herself to the saddle as I put my rifle away.

  “Go, Hero.”

  I grabbed his tail and smacked him on the rear—I’d never done that before—and he sprung into the river, dragging Misty and Dawn with him. I got jerked off my feet, but soon we were all in the water, with Hero headed to the other side.

  The Indians came up to the river after we were twenty feet from shore, and commenced firing at us. I felt a deep, burning sensation in my shoulder and arm, the side holding on to Hero’s tail, and pulled my other hand over to grab hold and help support me.

  7

  Misty was struggling in the silt-laden river, but the rope gave her help. Besides this was her first time across and she was not tired.

  I glanced back. Some of the Indians were trying to get their horses to enter the river. They finally gave up, shot a few more times and left.

  I kicked my feet, trying to help Hero out. He was laboring now, and we were being carried downstream as well as forward.

  When we finally reached the riverbank it was too steep for him to climb out. He turned and started swimming downstream. I wondered if I let go of his tail, maybe I could get up on the bank and help him. Then the pain in my shoulder reminded me I was probably going to have to leave it all to him.

  The river curved in a large bend, swinging away from us, so we were on a shallow side. Hero got a purchase on the bed, struggled through some deep sand, and flung himself out of the water, pulling the rest of us with him.

  He was shaking, tossing Dawn about, and I had to grab his head and stop him long enough for her to untie herself.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked.

  “No. They grabbed me, and I told them in the Kiowa language to leave me alone. They thought that was a big joke, but they just tied my hands and led me away.” She shuddered. “I didn’t think anyone was following me.”

  She put her head against my chest and her body shook. “I don’t think I could face that again.”

  “I know. I wasn’t about to let them take you.”

  She straightened and I let her step away.

  “How did you find me?” she asked.

  “I just rode to the fork in the road, then Hero followed Misty.”

  “Did Pa send you to bring me back? Cause I’m not going.”

  “No. He didn’t send me anywhere. I drew my wages and left.”

  “I know it wasn’t right to take Misty, but Lewis would have her ruined in less than a day.”

  “He can’t. I just bought her.”

  “Pa sold her to you?” You could tell she didn’t quite believe it.

  “He didn’t have a choice. There’s a bill of sale in my saddlebags. You own her now.”

  “How?”

  “The paper says she’s mine, and as soon as I sign it over, she’s yours. I got her for you. Did you leave because of Misty?”

  “No. Yes. She was part of it. But he said you couldn’t teach me...”

  “That was when I decided to leave, too.”

  We looked at each other.

  “You don’t have to go back to him, Dawn. He’s your pa, but you are of age now. He can’t control you any longer.”

  She started to cry, then collapsed on the ground. It caught me by surprise. I hadn’t quite realized how afraid she was of him.

  I untied my blanket and started to drape it over her. She stood up and pulled it around herself, then leaned into my arms.

  She was shaking, and I pulled her close, wanting to shelter her from her pa and the Indians and anyone else who might want to hurt her. I kissed the top of her head, then her eyes as she lifted her face to me.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft and low. “Thank you.”

  I understood why the horses would do anything she asked, because I felt the same way. “You’re welcome.”

  She laid her head against my chest and I wanted it to stay there. It felt right. This woman felt right.

  “There’s something you need to know,” I said. “I checked the bags in the pantry. When we got back from the store, Lewis put the supplies away. Whoever filled the bags, filled them wrong. There was salt in the sugar bag and salt in the salt.”

  “So I wasn’t dumb.”

  “Not at all. Never was. You need to understand. There’s a whole heap of difference between book learning and smarts. Hero is smart, probably the smartest horse in Texas, and he can’t read a word.”

  That brought a grin to her face and a sparkle to her eyes. “Hero don’t need to read. The fillies don’t care. He just flashes those stallion eyes at them and they line up.”

  “You can read a book about how to ride a horse, but until you put in hours of riding, you aren’t a rider. You know that.”

  She nodded.

  “Well, you just need more time to be a reader. Then you would’ve known you weren’t wrong.”

  It was just common sense, but she’d been so beat down by the people at the ranch, that she’d lost faith in herself.

  “You know that if you took any of those people back there and dropped them in the desert, they wouldn’t be able to find water like you can. You aren’t dumb, you just had a different type of education. One which is very practical for out here.”

  She snuggled close to me again.

  “May I kiss you?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I’d never kissed a girl, except when I was a youngster on the mountains, and my cousin Bo bet me I couldn’t get a kiss from Lucy Kendale. It hadn’t mattered then, but this was different. I felt for Dawn, strong. I might even be in love with her.

  She raised her head and closed her eyes, then opened them.

  “Well? Aren’t you going to kiss me after you asked for one?”

  I took my hat off, beat it on my leg. “Um...”

  “Matthew, are you shy?”

  “Um, I think... I love you and...”

  She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me soundly. Once started, I returned the kiss and we went at it for quite a spell. My heart was thumpin’ and I was a sweating and I just shook.

  Here under the Texas stars, I’d found the one woman who spoke to that part of me that I hid from the world. The part that wanted a companion, a completion of myself. Someone I could protect and love and serve.

  It had been growing, ever since I first saw her in the corral, and grew even more rapidly now when she kissed me back.

  Did she feel the same for me? Her kisses were heating up as fast as I was. Did she realize it?

  She was a fine woman, a noble woman. I had to control myself, for I wanted her to know how valuable she was to me. I had to protect her from myself.

  “Whoa,” I said. “Back off a bit. I need to know. Are those kisses because you’re happy or grateful, or because...”

  “I love you.”

  It was exactly what I wanted to hear. “And I love you. Dawn, will you marry me?”

  She stared at me in the dim light. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. We’ll find us a preacher and do it right proper.”

  “You could have anyone for a wife.”

  “I don’t want anyone else. I’m asking you. Will you marry me? Just as soon as I return Hero to his rightful owner.”

  “You’d be leaving?”

  “I don’t want you to be marrying a horse thief, so I’ll have to find Trey and give him back. That might take some time. You could go back to the ranch and wait until—”

  “Never!”

  I didn’t blame her. “Okay.
We can go to Ft. Worth and I’ll rent a house for you. We can get married as soon as I get back. Then we’ll head west.”

  “I could wait with the Kiowas.”

  “They aren’t there any longer. The war was harder on the Indians than anyone else.”

  “Then I’ll go to my aunt’s place. I can stay there while you hunt Trey. Aunt Mabel’s lonely, with Uncle Tim gone.”

  “I can drop by your Pa’s place and tell him where you’re at, if you think he’d worry.”

  “No. He’ll find out soon enough. Any idea where Trey is?”

  “Nope. He could be dead, but he’d be hard to kill.”

  “Why don’t you send out word that you’re holding his horse for him and need to know where to send it?”

  “That would work, but I’d rather deliver him personally.”

  I held her, but realized things were getting darker, which was strange, because the sun had come up.

  She pulled back, holding up a hand covered with watery blood. “Matthew. You’ve been hit.”

  “Yes.” I remember saying that, but nothing more.

  When I woke up, we were traveling. I was on a travois she had rigged from brush and buckskin cut from my shirt. She had used her underskirt to bind my wound, and wrapped me in my blanket, and was now riding Misty, astride. I glanced at her, saw her bare legs, and looked away, embarrassed. She was quite some woman. She had done what was necessary to save our lives. I passed out again, and when I came to, we were at her Aunt Mabel’s house.

  George was there, yelling at her, when Mabel came out and shushed him up.

  She sent Dawn inside and looked me over. “I guess you’ll live. What happened?”

  I told her as best I could, going into and out of consciousness. She made George support me and put me into her bed. “It’s the only one of a size to fit you. You are a tall thing, like my husband was.”

  I remember Dawn, wearing one of her aunt’s dresses, bathing my wounds and settling me down. She figured the Indians shot me with her rifle.

  She got out the Bible and read to me, with Mabel correcting some of her words, but she was mostly able to read it. The sound of her voice was comforting, especially when the fever was upon me.

  I must have rambled on about Hero, because next thing I heard was George, declaring he was going to hang me for stealing Hero.