by Rita Hestand
“I have one, and I can use it, too,” Jodi assured him.
“Good. Stay within eyesight; don't get too far up ahead. Use your signals today, less talk. Keep the cattle lulled as much as possible. And be ready.” He gestured for the gun. “If they stampede the herd, we'll be prepared. If we get wind of Indians, we'll prepare. Indians will want the horses. That's why I put Willy on the remuda. He handled that roan really well last night, and it might give the cows a rest, as those cowponies seem to push them harder. They need to graze as we go so we have some fat cows. We'll need to keep an eye on Willy, make sure those jayhawkers aren't after him. He'll be safer with the remuda since I'm putting him up front with me.”
“All right.” Jodi didn't argue. “You know, I like him.”
“Yeah, me too.” He grinned warmly at her.
≈≈≈
Somehow, she had managed to be civil during the ceremony and now she found herself respecting the fact that he was as cautious. The men in the saloon had been loud and rowdy last night. She had heard them herself. She'd heard them cuss, shoot, and crash bottles while Hunt was over there.
If she hadn't remembered that Hunt was a coward, she might grow to care for him. It certainly seemed as though her opinions of him were changing. Problem was, these days, it was harder to remember exactly what Hunt Johnson was. He didn't act the part of a coward. But there was more to worry about than even he knew and she needed to take care of her problem soon.
She yawned and put away the food and prepared the chuck wagon for another day. Soaking some beans and checking her supply of dried jerky, she satisfied herself that all was well and waited for Matt to return to the wagon.
There was a storm brewing, to make matters worse, and everyone seemed on edge.
The lightning lit up the prairie, sometimes boldly, sometimes only in one little spot. The streaks touched the tips of the longhorns, making them want to mill. Perhaps it was the warning from Hunt, or maybe just good judgment, but no one let down his guard. Lightning was known to kill man or beast and every cowboy knew it. It wasn't something they could defend themselves from so easily.
At mid-day Concho rode up and helped them make camp. He was skilled at handling such things and Jodi welcomed his help. Hunt recruited Matt to help drag once he saw Concho helping her. Jodi knew instinctively that Hunt felt better about Concho being with her now. After all, Matt as still very young and didn't offer much experience. There was only so much bluff in a twelve-year-old kid, she reasoned silently.
“There is a storm brewing from the north,” Concho mentioned as he helped her prepare the meal, both of them scanning the north sky with uneasiness.
“I know, Concho,” she said, ignoring the skittish movements he was making. “The cattle are restless.”
“The boss man, he is good. He knows of the dangers. He is ready. You were wise to get him for the drive,” Concho added.
“That was Clem's idea, not mine,” she corrected, turning a bright red when Concho stared at her.
“I've been on trail drives before, Señora, and many boss men have not been prepared for things. Bad things happen when the boss man doesn't suspect. This one, he is good. He knows…”
She turned and faced Concho. “You like him, don't you?” The surprise in her voice had Concho frowning at her momentarily.
“Si, I like him.” Concho finally smiled at her.
She turned a curious look on him. “Even though he is a coward?”
“Si Señora, I do not think he is a coward.” Concho's smile faded as he stared at her yet again. He seemed to read her thoughts and it embarrassed her a little. After all, she'd married him just last night.
“Then why did he come home before the war was over?” The idea that Concho might be right fermented in Jodi's mind. Could she have been wrong? Could a whole town be wrong about one man?
“I do not know, but I do not think he is a coward.” Concho looked her straight in the eyes and said it. A dim light rippled through her mind. “I feel it in my bones. You know, Señora, when the Alamo fell, some say one man, he leave before the battle. Most say that man was a coward. But I ask myself, why would a man do such a thing? He must have had a reason. How could he call himself a man? Perhaps there are things we do not understand. A coward is a man who will not fight; he won't stand up for the rights and the wrongs of things. Señor Hunt is not such a man!”
Jodi considered what Concho said, but until he could prove it to her, she wouldn't be giving him the benefit of doubt. Clem had been right. Hunter Johnson was the only man for this job, but she'd never admit it aloud. Her opinion of him still remained the same. Only she'd give him his due; he was a good cow man.
Right after eating, the wind began to change, and tension mounted to a climax. One wrong move, one loud noise, is all it would take. Jodi sighed to herself. The cattle became restless, harder to keep on course. Hunt signaled to the men to keep them tight. Everyone worked them as best they could. But it was work!
Concho came up beside her, smiling.
“So, you marry the boss man?”
“Yes, we're married.” Jodi felt her cheeks grow warm.
“Ah, si, the bride, she blushes.” Concho laughed.
She knew he was merely trying to take her mind off the weather.
“So, Señor Boss is not so bad? Si?” Concho chuckled again.
No, Hunt wasn't so bad, her mind agreed silently.
Jodi smiled, but the air tingled with electrical tension. Flashes to the north were coming closer. The tension mounted; no one relaxed. Everyone knew something was brewing and they all prayed it was just the weather.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hunt kept his eye on the wagon till it was out of sight, but the uneasy feeling didn't let up. He hated that eerie feeling of something bad about to happen, but he'd had it all day and he couldn't get rid of it. He sought Willy out several times to reassure himself all was well there. It seemed the cattle were picking up on the environment so Hunt began to sing. He was too busy to notice how far ahead Jodi might be. About the time he scanned the horizon, a gunshot resounded against the backdrop of weather, and the cattle reverberated with a quick and decisive stampede.
The earth rumbled, dust flew, and man and beast were on the run. Hunt tried to keep them bunched and crowded, but it was of no use. No one could bunch them now. All they could do was ride. The sound was deafening. Horns clashed with horns, cattle moaned, and blood gushed. Lightning played on top of their horns like a musical instrument. The smell of burnt brimstone wafted through the air. They were at a full run. Only the lightning lit their path. Hunt let them have a lead at first, wanting to tire them. But cattle could run for miles without a sign of giving out.
Hunt calculated his move. Then, instantly, he switched. Instead of retreating and letting them have their heads, Hunt took the lead and began cutting the leads off, mushrooming them into a circle slowly so they never realized what they were doing. Cattle had no mind of their own, only action.
There was little time to figure out where the shots were coming from, or who fired them; during a stampede the only things to worry about were the horses and the cattle. Hunt concentrated on his main job, turning the herd, if he could. In the dark, it was hard to see a prairie dog hole, or a rattlesnake. One wrong move could be a problem for a cowboy on horseback. But as fast as they were riding, it didn't matter. What mattered was keeping up with the lead cows.
He rode till the sweat broke on his horse, and slowly the herd began to turn willingly. Matt, Dutch, Brady, and Jose, seeing his movement, copied him. Willy had a job all his own, but he was staying up with Hunt. He was a darn good horseman, Hunt acknowledged to himself proudly.
Hunt and Jose spent nearly the rest of the day trying to reroute the herd into a circle and bunch them. The others did their job. Only seven men were too few. It took half the day to get any relief. As the cattle began to calm, Hunt sang out in a loud voice. It was as if they recognized his voice. The cattle responded with a temper
ed lull. From the looks of it, they were at least thirty cows short. Hunt made notes quickly once they settled and bedded down for the night. He had a plan.
The men had been running on pure adrenaline during the stampede, some half asleep in the saddle as they began to bed the herd down for the night. The discipline of the cowboy was to stay in the saddle, no matter what.
“Dutch and Brady, double back to check for the strays. We lost thirty, at least. I want them back,” Hunt called to them as they rode up in full gallop. No time to worry about the fact that no one had slept in hours.
Signaling to him, they rode out as fast as they rode in.
Hunt finally breathed a sigh of relief as Jose joined him. Rolling a cigarette, he glanced up at him. “Thanks,” he smiled.
“Si, Señor. Just doing my job. I thought we would never turn them.”
“Yeah, me too. We need more men. Another stampede like that and we'll lose half the herd. I've got to get more men. We still got the Trinity and Red.”
“Si, more men.” Jose looked about. “I have not seen Señora Johnson since the stampede, have you?”
Hunt glanced about, his eyes scanning the darkening horizon. There was nothing up ahead but darkness. He knew Jodi always kept a lantern going in bad weather to light the way to camp. There was no light. “No. As a matter of fact, I was looking for her just before all this started. She went ahead, but I haven't seen a light. We better go see what's going on. Wait, here comes Matt. Maybe he knows what's happened to her.”
“Si…”
Matt tore into the new camp with a vengeance. “They got her, boss. They knocked Concho out and took her.”
“What are you talking about?” Hunt demanded, his frown growing more serious with each word.
Matt took a deep breath as he dismounted and came up to Hunt. “She said you would probably need me, and that Concho was staying with her. That's the last I saw of her. I rode north when you got the cattle turned to try to find them. I found Concho and he told me what happened. Everything was fine till these men with guns rode up. They were lookin' for Willy. When they wouldn't tell them anything, they knocked Concho out and took her. They took a few head of cattle, not many. They are the ones that done the shooting, stampeding the herd. They took her at gunpoint, Boss. I tried to turn back, but I was already moving with the herd, and I couldn't circle around at that point. I figured the best I could do is get back to you. Concho's on his way in now. He should be behind me.”
“You did right, Matt. Where's the wagon?”
“Couple of miles back.” Matt looked helpless.
Hunt nodded.
Now the stampede wasn't his only worry.
“All right, then it is up to me to find her. I was hoping it was a gopher hole, or rattlesnake.”
“Si, a two-legged rattlesnake.” Jose frowned.
“Yeah,” Hunt agreed, his lips firming in a hard line. He met their wide-eyed gazes. “While I double back, I want you men to keep the herd bunched. Dutch and Brady are already back tracking for strays. When that's done, stay on the trail. I'll catch up, and just so you know, that wasn't Indians.”
“The jayhawkers?” Josh asked with disbelief as he rode into camp.
“Probably, Indians would have taken the horses first. And Jodi is used to this country; I don't think she got hurt in the stampede. But it's still possible that she got away, somehow. Anyway, I think it might have been those fellas in the saloon last night. From the looks of that bunch, there were enough of them to start anything. They were after Willy. They knew we had cattle. They might have done this. I hadn't planned on spending any time chasing them. They probably cut a few head and took Jodi with them. For some reason, God only knows. Jose, you'll lead until Concho gets back. Keep moving them north. Lull them as much as possible; keep them calm, just like we have been doing. I'll catch up in a few days. If not, take them to the Kansas railroad and get that money back to the folks in Esser Crossing. Don't forget Mr. Williams either. While I'm gone, Concho is in charge. He's the most experienced. No arguments.”
“But you'll need help, Boss,” Concho concluded as he rode up behind Matt. “You can't take them all by yourself.”
“Unless I miss my guess, it's just a handful of deserters. Like as not, they'll be celebrating with whiskey. A sober man has an advantage then.”
“You are not afraid?” Concho asked as all the men gathered about.
Everyone eyed him with a new respect. “Afraid, no. Apprehensive, yes, I'm not sure I can pull it off, but they aren't going to get away with this, if I can help it. That's my wife they've got, and I aim to bring her back as quick as I can. And we're going to get the herd through, just like we planned.”
“But we'll go with you…” Josh began.
“No. Jodi wouldn't want to lose the herd. No matter what. It's my place, my wife. Besides, I'll be back.”
Josh stepped forward. “I was wrong about you,” he began. “Will you shake?”
Hunt nodded with a tired smile and shook Josh's hand. “Just keep going with the herd. The way Jodi wants it.”
With that, he nodded to the men and left. It would be miles before he could actually track them because of the stampede, but he knew they wouldn't go toward the signs of the Indians, nor back to the way they’d come. That only left the north or the south, and they wouldn't be following the herd so he knew they had to head south.
He rode like the wind for a couple of hours, then slowed and began to try to find signs of them. He was almost sure it was jayhawkers, and he knew exactly what they had in mind for Jodi. He knew, too, what they would have done to Willy if they had caught him. His stomach knotted, and his face was set to a grim frown. If they touched her, he'd kill them. Every last one of them, and he wouldn't ask questions, just kill them. Men like that didn't deserve trials. And not a man in his camp would blame him for it either.
Then he sighed heavily. No, that was emotion talking. He wouldn't be killing them. Then with a grin, he nodded to himself. But he could sure make them wish they were dead.
It was two days before he picked up their trail. It wasn't hard to track them. With only a few cattle and themselves to worry about, they left a clear trail. Hunt followed it for hours. It was nearly dawn the next day when he found their campsite. Jodi was building the fire when Hunt heard one of the men coming toward her. He hid in the bushes and watched. She looked dirty, a little worse for wear, but she didn't look hurt. Just the sight of her sent a wave of relief through him.
“No fire, lady. Want to tip our hand?” a toothless old man with a dirty beard and a belly that weighted him down said.
“You don't want coffee?” Jodi asked with such innocence. “Tip your hand to whom?”
“Sure, I want coffee, but not enough to risk my scalp. We might have left them cowpunchers back there on the trail, but the Indians won't be as easy to get rid of.” The old man rubbed his whiskers and stared at her. “You light a fire, they'll be down on us quicker than you can say scat.”
This man wasn't drunk, probably the most alert, Hunt surmised.
“You think the Indians would bother us?” She tried to sound scared.
Hunt almost chuckled at her act. Anyone who thought Jodi Parker skittish didn't know her.
“We got horses and cattle. Yep, I think they might,” he answered. “Those heathens would kill for a horse.”
“So why did you bring me here?” she cried out. “I mean, why slow yourselves down with a woman?”
“Well, you might already know if Elrod hadn't gotten so all fired drunk and stayed that way. As it is, you've been spared a few nights. But don't think you can get comfortable. He's kind of rangy like that. Figured bringing you along would keep him satisfied for a while. After all, he ain't too happy that we didn't get that Negro fella.” The older man smiled a toothless smile.
“I don't understand. The war is over, and the Negroes are free according to Lincoln. Why did you want him?” Jodi asked, her head turning to wait for his answer.
&n
bsp; The man looked at her incredulously. “We planned to string him up, that's what. That's what you do with those kinds of people, girl. We don't need his kind here.”
Jodi cringed a little. “But why would you hang a man just because he's a Negro?”
“Don't got to have a reason. He's a Negro, that's reason enough.” The man chuckled. “Just like the Indians are Indians.”
Jodi hung her head, a red blush blotting her cheeks. “It's thinking like that that caused the war. You and men like you. Treating people like animals. And for what? What did he do that was so bad? He didn't do anything… Oh dear God, you make me so sick.”
“No use getting yourself all riled up over a Negro, Missy.”
“Did you fight for the north or the south?”
“Well…it don't much matter none now. The war's over.” His tone was cool and indifferent.
“Then why don't you let the Negro people alone…why?” Her voice grew shrill.
“I reckon a woman wouldn't understand these things. Somethin' has to be done, though; otherwise these Negroes will think they can run things their way.” His voice was harsh and unyielding. “Just like the Indians already think this land is theirs.”
“They were here first… But you were soldiers, weren't you. Why would you do this? Facing desertion, imprisonment? And other things…” Her voice trailed off, and her face paled just a fraction, enough for Hunt to notice. Jodi was passionate about things she didn't even understand. Hunt smiled to himself.
“They catch me, they'll hang me this time. Look lady, you don't know nothin'. That was all a while back. The war's over. At least that one is. But now we fight the Indians again. So it isn't over. Don't you see? I been fightin' nigh on to twenty years now. Twenty years, and what fer? It ain't never gonna be over.” The old man’s disgust showed in his face and echoed in his voice. “First Indians, then the big war came along, and I fought my brothers. Yep, my own brothers. Killed one of them at Gettysburg. It was kill or be killed. He'd have done me in if I'd have hesitated, I knew that. War knows no names, no kin. And it all started over them danged Negro people. So there's your why!”