“Ah, Kate,” Jamie said, not quite sure how she would receive this suggestion. “There is one other thing we can buy when we get to the city.”
“Oh?”
“A regular saddle and some men’s britches for you to wear.”
She smiled mischievously. “Why, Jamie, you know that a proper young lady does not sit a horse astride.”
“It was just a suggestion, Kate.”
She laughed at the crestfallen look on his face. “Oh, Jamie! I think it’s a wonderful suggestion. With me not having to sit perched on that stupid saddle like a queen, we can make much better time. And if I get a big floppy hat and loose clothing, I can cut my hair short and pass for a boy.”
Jamie looked at her. He had his doubts about that last bit. Nobody but a babbling idiot would ever take Kate for a boy. But he was learning fast about being married. “Uh ... right, Kate. You’re right.”
* * *
“We got a big group of men followin’ us,” Trent Newby said, flopping down on the ground and pouring a cup of coffee from the battered pot.
“The law?” Waymore Newby asked.
“What law?” Ford Newby asked. “There ain’t no damn law in this territory — at least none that could, or would, tackle us. Mayhaps them folks is trailin’ the same two we is?”
“Possibility,” John Newby said. “You mighty quiet, Bart. What you got rumblin’ ’round in your noggin?”
“Where are we goin’ with this, John? We done left hearth and home way back behind us. Are we west of the river for good?”
“For as long as it takes us to find them two kids and avenge our brothers.”
“That might take years, John.”
“Then it’ll take years. What the hell have we got to go back to?”
“Good point,” Waymore said. “Best thing for us is never to go east of the Mississippi. By now, the law has done put together who kilt them old people and torched their store. We cain’t never go back.”
The five brothers sat around the fire, morosely staring at the flames, letting that information slowly sink in.
Waymore broke the silence. “I’m gonna kill that kid and use that gold-haired girl hard.”
“And then pass her around,” Bart said.
“Yeah. That too.”
* * *
Jamie paid a farmer on the outskirts of town a dollar to look after their horses, and two dollars to let them use his wagon to go into the city. The farmer hadn’t seen three dollars in hard money in months, so he jumped at the offer. He was happier still when Jamie said he would bring the man back a sack of sugar and flour and some coffee.
“Bless your hearts,” his wife said.
Jamie had been astonished when he’d opened the bag of money Sam had given him. He knew it had been awfully heavy, but since he had a little money of his own — Sam had insisted on paying him for the work around the farm, and Jamie had saved most of it — he had not opened the bag until a few days before reaching Little Rock.
“Sam is very wealthy, Jamie,” Kate told him. “He comes from a very rich family back east. So does Sarah. Both families see to it that they want for naught.” She smiled and her eyes sparkled. “Did you ever hear why two educated and sophisticated people like them left the lights of the city and came to be in the wilds of Kentucky?”
“No. But I often wondered.”
“Well, I don’t know all the story, but Sarah has told me a little bit about it. Sam and Sarah were quite young when they fell in love. Even younger than us. But another family wanted their son to marry Sarah. There was a fight, and Sam killed the boy’s father and had to flee just ahead of the law. The warrants have long since been cleared, but they like it on the frontier and just don’t want to go back.”
“That’s why he was so eager to help us,” Jamie said slowly, as the two of them bumped and lurched along in the wagon.
“I’m sure that’s part of the reason. The main reason is they both love you.”
Jamie didn’t know how he felt about that. He did know that it made him feel bad, sort of.
Kate picked up on his mood and put a hand on his arm. “Don’t feel badly about it, Jamie. Sarah told me they could never expect to hold you back there. She said you were like an eagle, you had to fly and see through the eyes of eagles. Sam was there and he agreed. He said you were born for the wild country, for the mountains and desert and the wilderness. They questioned me at length about my love for you and the type of life I would probably lead if I left with you. It isn’t going to be easy, Jamie. I know that. We’re going into country that few white people have ever seen. But it’s what I want. That, and to be with you.”
“I don’t really know where we’re going, Kate. Not yet. But no man could ask a woman for more than you just said. And there’s the city, Kate.”
Neither one of them knew if there really were a thousand people in the city, but it was more people than either one of them had ever seen all gathered in one place.
“I’d love to shop some,” Kate said. “But I know that we cannot risk lingering long. We’ll shop together as quickly as we can, and then leave. All right?”
Jamie nodded his head and pulled the wagon around to the side of a huge general store. He let the horses drink and then he and Kate walked into the store. Place had more stuff in it than either of them had ever seen. It would make Abe Caney’s store back in Kentucky pale in comparison.
Jamie had spread his money around to various pockets of his homespuns that he had changed into at the farmer’s cabin. Kate had also sewn pockets at the top of his high-top moccasins for most of the money. He knew better than to flash a lot of gold around. While Kate did her woman’s shopping, Jamie bought lead and powder and a mold. Then, after signaling Kate he was stepping outside for a moment, he went next door to a gun and leather shop and bought four used pistols, another rifle, more powder, and a saddle. He could make powder if he had to, for he’d watched the Shawnees do it, combining saltpeter, found in certain types of caves, sulfur, and charcoal... but the homemade stuff was not dependable and tended to be very volatile, igniting when one least expected it, often with disastrous results to the party not expecting harm. He loaded that in the wagon and returned to Kate’s side. The store was very busy, and that was good, for it gave no one a chance to really stare long at them or to ask any questions. Jamie bought several sheets of canvas and a small container of tar, which he would use to thinly coat the material to make it waterproof. He bought lengths of rope, two good knives, two hatchets and two axes and a small sharpening stone. Then they loaded up and drove on down the street to another store and bought the rest of their supplies, including eating utensils and britches and shirts for Kate. At the livery, Jamie dickered some with a man and left leading two strong pack horses and rigs to carry all their supplies.
“It’s so much, Jamie!” Kate said.
“It’ll seem like nothing when we’re on the trail, Kate. And I’ve still got most of the money Sam gave me ... us.”
Kate smiled. “You’re catching on real quick, Jamie.” She laughed and hugged him, and Jamie had him a thought that maybe the horses needed a rest and while they were resting, he and Kate could find some bushes to get behind and...
He shook his head. Best to not think about that. Kate had told him there was a time and a place for everything.
He gave the farmer and his wife their promised sacks of sugar and flour and salt and a few other articles that Kate had picked out for the woman and her two young children, a boy and a girl. The man and his wife were embarrassed by the generosity of the young couple.
Jamie leveled with the man and the wife while the kids ran off to play with their new geegaws. “We’re running, folks. We’ve committed no crimes and we’re not living in sin. We were married back up the trail. But there are some killers after us. They’re bad people. If they should stop here, and they might, you never saw us.”
“You go with God, young feller,” the settler said. “And don’t you worry none about us
sayin’ a thing. We can be right tight-lipped when we taken a mind to it.”
Jamie and Kate packed up and pulled out within the hour, the farmer’s wife shaking her head at Kate’s wearing men’s britches, and horrified at her riding astride.
“That girl will come to no good end,” she said to her husband.
“Maybe that’s the way they do it back east now,” he replied. “This younger generation is sure goin’ to hell in a handbasket. No tellin’ what they’ll be doin’ next.”
“It’s the devil’s work, for sure.”
* * *
Jamie and Kate pushed westward, riding deeper into the wilderness, behind them came the Newby Brothers and behind them rode John Jackson and Hart Olmstead and their followers. Jamie and Kate both felt that John and Hart would eventually give up and return to Kentucky, for they had businesses to run and farms to tend back there, and neither was a wealthy man. The Newby Brothers were a different story however. Jamie and Kate had learned from talking to people along the way that the Newbys were highwaymen, wanted in several states and territories, and they were also friends with the Saxon gang. Since the Saxon Brothers escaped from jail, several years back, they had become the leaders of one of the most infamous and feared gangs in the country, robbing and raping and killing and plundering wherever they rode, which was wherever and whenever they chose.
Although both Jamie and Kate would have liked to visit the hot springs, which they had read and heard about, and which had been used by Indians for centuries, believing the hot water had magical healing powers, the springs lay south of where the young couple rode, and they felt sure their pursuers would go there in search of them. The two pressed on westward. They encountered Indians, but the Caddos gave them no trouble and most were friendly.
On the fourth day out of Little Rock, camped at the edge of a little lake in the Ouachita Mountains, a voice halloed their camp. Jamie put his hand on the butt of a pistol and waited.
“I be friendly, young folks,” the man said, walking his horse closer. “And I be alone. Smelled your food a-cookin’ and the coffee boilin’. I’ll ride on if you say to.”
“Come on in,” Jamie told him. “We’re as friendly as you are.”
The man dismounted and saw to his horse’s needs. He squatted by the fire and took the cup of coffee Kate handed him. “Obliged, missy.”
Jamie noted that the man was not that much older than he was. He figured him maybe twenty or so at the most. The full beard made him appear much older.
“I been to St. Louis to see the sights and sell my pelts,” the man said. “Thought I’d just take me a look-see down this way ’fore I headed back to the mountains. I been to Fort Pickering; some folks has taken to callin’ it Memphis. Silliest name I ever did hear. What’s it mean, anyways?”
“I think it has something to do with Egypt,” Kate said.
“Do tell.”
“My name’s Sonny and this is Tess,” Jamie said. “It ain’t done it, neither,” the buckskin-clad man said with a smile. “But you’ll find the further west you head, names don’t account for much. It’s more what a man does now than what he’s got behind him. And right now, you got a mess of trouble comin’ hard on your heels... Jamie and Kate MacCallister.”
The stranger’s eyes hardened, his smile vanished, and he reached for a pistol stuck in his sash.
Ten
The young couple tensed as the stranger’s hand closed on the butt of the pistol.
“Relax, kids,” he said. “I’m just tired of this thing pokin’ me in the ribs.” He laid the pistol on the ground, beside him.
Jamie eyed his rifle and pistol, out of his reach.
“Don’t never get away from your guns, boy,” the stranger said. “Not out here. It was smart of you, buying them extree guns back at Little Rock. Man can’t never have too many.”
“Are you spying on us, sir?” Kate asked, her eyes flashing with anger.
“Nope. You might say I’m sort of your guardian for part of this trip you’re on.”
“Why?” Jamie asked.
“I know your grandpa, boy. That’s why.”
“Will you stop calling me boy? You’re not more than five or six years older than I am.”
The man smiled. “In man’s years, son, that’s right. But in experience, you’ll never catch up with me. I went west when I was a lot younger than you.” He smiled that strange smile. “Man Who Is Not Afraid.”
“You said you know my grandfather?”
“Yep. And he’s alive and well and damn spry for his age, too.” He looked at Kate. “Kindly pardon my language, ma’am.” He looked back at Jamie. “When I heard a young feller name of MacCallister was being tracked — I was told that over at a tradin’ post on the White — I done me a little investigatin’ and decided to drift on over this way. I picked up your trail north of the city and been watchin’ you. You do tolerable well in the wilderness, boy. Tolerable. Them Shawnees taught you good. Now I’m fixin’ to teach you a bit more whilst we head west. I’ll leave you a ways after we cross the Red, ’cause I’ve got me a yearnin’ for the mountains and the plains. I been missin’ ’em something fierce, I have.”
“I’ll see them someday,” Jamie said. “Me and Kate.”
“Probably,” the man agreed. “And once you do, you’ll never leave ’em for long. They pull at you. The plains is something a body’s got to see to believe. And the mountains? Well, words can’t describe ’em.”
The stranger sighed and shook his head. “The mountains get to a man. I’ve been ramblin’ on some. You mind if I have me a taste of that stew you got cookin’ in the pot, Missy?”
“Of course not. I’ll get you a plate.”
“Then you’re a mountain man?” Jamie asked.
“I reckon,” the stranger replied, taking the plate filled with stew. He ate several spoonfuls. “Good grub, Missy. Man gets tired of his own cookin’.” He smiled. “And I ’spect a woman does too, now, ain’t that right?”
Kate laughed at him. “Oh, yes.”
Jamie and Kate took a liking to the friendly and easygoing stranger. As he ate, he told them about Jamie’s grandfather, and about the way of life of the mountain men. Then he had Jamie tell him what type of supplies they’d purchased back in the “city”.
The stranger grunted his approval. “You’ll do, Jamie MacCallister. You’ll do. You brought just what you’ll need and no more. You didn’t waste good cash money on geegaws and foofaws. And you got a good eye for horseflesh. That big black of yours is better than a watchdog — ain’t I right?”
Jamie allowed as how he was.
“Thought so. But seeing Kate in men’s britches is gonna take some getting used to, I reckon.”
* * *
The stranger made his camp about fifty yards away from Jamie and Kate, to give them some privacy and also, Jamie felt, not to offer any attacker a bunched-up camp.
“We don’t even know his name,” Kate whispered that night, snuggled close together in their blankets.
“I guess if he wants us to know it, he’ll tell us. Kate? Tomorrow I start teaching you about guns. You’ve got to be able to fire both rifle and pistol and know how to reload.”
“I know how to reload. But I’m not much of a shot.”
“You will be. You’ve got to learn. I’m told that the danger of Indians is not much where I’ve got in mind for us to live. But we must never forget those who are trailing us. And you’ve got to be able not just to shoot, but to kill.”
Kate was silent, mentally recalling the ugly, savage viciousness of her father and of John Jackson and those awful Newby Brothers. “I’ll stand when the time comes, Jamie. Of that, you may be sure.”
The next afternoon, by the banks of the Fourche River, Jamie and the stranger began Kate’s introduction to weapons. They practiced with her for an hour, until she began to complain that her shoulder and hands were aching.
“Best to stop now,” the stranger said. “We don’t want to push this. Acciden
ts happen when a body does that.”
“You go take your bath, Kate,” Jamie told her. “We’ll stand guard and start fixing supper. We’ll fry up those big fish we caught.”
“She’s a good girl,” the stranger said, kneeling by the fire and pouring a cup of coffee. “You’re a lucky man. She’ll stand beside you.”
“Are you married?” Jamie asked.
The stranger smiled. “Married to the mountains, I reckon. The wind is my woman. You two gonna settle in Texas, huh?”
“Planning on it.”
“Gonna be a war there, Jamie. The Mexicans is not takin’ kindly to the talk of independence.”
“Then I’ll fight.”
The stranger looked at this boy/man. Big feller. Arms and wrists on him held more power than the boy probably realized. The years with the Shawnees shaped him, body and mind. He’ll be a rough one to tangle with, for a fact. Carried a hide-out knife in one leggin, too. And the stranger had no doubts about Jamie’s ability and will to use it.
“You want to tell me why you got all these people after you, Jamie?”
Jamie looked across the fire. He could hear Kate singing softly from the river. “One group is led by two men, Olmstead and Jackson. Kate is Olmstead’s daughter. We ran off. I killed Jackson’s son, John Jr., after the two of them raped a good lady back in Kentucky. The other bunch will be the Newby Brothers. I killed two of their brothers at a trading post just off the Mississippi River. The old man at the store killed the third one with an axe.”
That brought a grunt from the mountain man. He’d pegged Jamie MacCallister right: the boy wouldn’t back up and take water from nobody. “What about the third bunch?”
Jamie stared at him for a moment. “What third bunch?”
“You got three groups of men trailin’ you, Jamie. What do you know about the Saxon Brothers?”
Jamie shook his head and cursed, something he rarely did. He told the stranger about his encounter, several years back, with the Saxon Brothers.
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