Kate glanced over at the tree to see the man had slipped sideways and was lying on the ground again. She grabbed a blanket from his horse and hurried over to bunch it up under his head and helped him lie flat. “Don’t die on me, Luke,” she said. “I’ll never find my way back to civilization without you. I hope you know where you are and how to find help.”
“Don’t…steal my…horse,” he whispered, his eyes closed. “Don’t…leave me here without a…gun and…a horse.”
Kate couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. She leaned closer. “I need that horse, but I also need the man who owns it,” she told him. Unless I can’t trust him. “So I won’t steal it. Besides, why would I ride off after just saving your life?”
She rose and walked back to her little pile of wood, then looked out at the violent landscape that was growing dimmer as the sun set. In the distance she saw a herd of wild horses running through the valley, so far away she could see them, but could not hear them. She got on her knees and put her ear to the ground.
The guide had been right. She could hear their pounding hooves, even though they were unshod and so far away she could barely see them in the evening’s dim light. She raised up to watch them disappear into a deep shadow created by the sun settling behind a grand mesa. Somewhere in the unreal landscape; a wolf howled, its cry echoing across the valley.
“Can you eat?” she asked Luke.
He just lay there, making no reply.
Kate fished through the man’s supplies and found some biscuits. She ate two and decided that would have to do for now. She remembered someone telling her once that a person shouldn’t eat too heavily on a severely empty stomach. Maybe it was when she’d helped with wounded men during the war…that awful war that had robbed her of everything she’d ever loved.
She checked Luke once more, touching his shoulder. “Luke? Are you okay?”
He opened his eyes. “Just…cover me and…leave a canteen,” he choked out.
Kate did as he asked, taking another long drink first. She left the canteen near Luke, then laid out his bedroll near the fire. She found leather straps for hobbling the horse, led the gelding out to better grass, and wrapped his front legs into the straps. She took Luke’s rifle from his gear and walked back to the fire, where she practically collapsed onto his bedroll. Exhaustion overwhelmed her as she crawled inside the bedroll, thinking to rest just a few minutes and then check on Luke again. She figured she shouldn’t let herself sleep too hard. After all, Luke was yet a stranger, and for all she knew, he still could be dangerous. He could recover faster than she anticipated.
She laid the rifle and Luke’s six-gun beside her and closed her eyes. Where in God’s name am I, she wondered, and what kind of man am I with?
Three
Someone nudged Kate awake. She gasped and reached for the rifle she’d left beside her the night before, but it was held in place by a big, booted foot.
“Don’t be…shooting me out of fear.” The words came out in a grating rasp. “I’m just giving you time…to get your bearings.”
Kate blinked and jumped to her feet to face Luke, who stood there in the early morning light with his six-gun in hand. Kate felt mortified. Rather than sleep just a little, she’d apparently slept through the night and wasn’t even aware that Luke was up and better and had possession of both guns.
“I—you—”
“You’re fine,” he told her. He’d already strapped on his gun belt, and he slipped the six-gun into its holster. “I just don’t want you to shoot me from being startled awake,” he repeated.
Kate noted his eyes were bloodshot, and his entire neck and part of his jawline were bruised. His shoulder-length hair stuck out in disarray from under his hat. He stepped back, taking his foot off the rifle, then leaned down to pick it up. “Sometimes when a person is lost and scared, he or she will shoot at anything.” He took out his handgun again and handed it out. “Take this…if it makes you feel better.”
“It’s okay, I guess.” Kate pushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear, thinking she must be as much in need of a bath and clean clothes as Luke. She was suddenly too aware of how she must look. Her red hair always tried to go in six directions at once. Now it was disheveled from the wind and sullied with dust and grit.
She looked around the camp, realizing Luke had rebuilt the fire.
“I…I intended to get a fire started…make some coffee or something before you were even up,” she told him, realizing only then that the man was taller than she’d first surmised—certainly big enough to have his way with her if he so chose. Yet he’d offered her his six-gun. “I didn’t think you would be up and around so soon.”
“Don’t worry about it. I aim to get going soon as possible and get my cattle back.” He re-holstered his six-gun.
Kate frowned. “But you must be in terrible pain. You should rest another day. And I need to find a way to civilization. I need a horse of my own, supplies, clean clothes. I was hoping you’d lead me to a place where I can get those things before you go after those men.”
Luke shook his head. “I can’t let them get too far ahead.” He sniffed the air. “There’s clouds hanging in the west. Look like rain clouds, something you don’t see out here often.” He cleared his throat and choked a little. “It’s going to get colder instead of warmer. There’s no predicting the weather in this country. We’ll warm up a little and rest up more…just to get the ache out of our bones. Then we’ll need to get going. I aim to go after the men who hanged me. I want them dead, and I need to get my cattle back. Or my money. Both, if possible. You needing to ride with me will slow us down, so the earlier we start, the better.”
“Where will we go?”
“There’s a town a good thirty-five miles north of here called Lander. I’m sure that’s where those men are headed. We’ll find a good place for you to hole up while I ride to Lander and get what’s mine. It will all go faster if I do this alone. I’ll also get the supplies we need—food, clothes, and a horse for you.”
Kate watched him look around for more firewood. “I don’t even know your last name,” she told him.
Luke kept his rifle in one hand and leaned down to pick up an unburned stick. He stirred the coals under the fire. “Bowden,” he answered. “Luke Bowden. How about you?”
Kate helped pick up more wood, glad he’d mentioned finding her a horse and supplies, and doubly glad to realize he seemed to know his way around this country. “Kate Winters.”
They both laid more wood on the fire at the same time, momentarily raising their heads and looking into each other’s eyes. After helping nurse wounded men during the Civil War, Kate knew enough about men’s pride to know Luke Bowden was feeling more than a little shame at how she’d found him, at the mercy of other men, a noose around his neck, hanging, kicking, and dying.
“I reckon I owe you my life, Miss Winters. Or is it Mrs.?”
“It’s Mrs.,” she told him. “My husband was killed in the war.” She quickly rose, feeling a little embarrassed at their faces being so close. “And I suppose you do owe me, but I can’t take too much credit, Mister Bowden. I didn’t want to see you suffer, but I also needed your horse and supplies. The wagon train I was with had dwindled down to only three wagons because of sickness and breakdowns along the way. We were headed for Oregon when we were attacked by a gang of ragtag soldiers and renegades, probably leftovers from the war. I never even got a good look at them. The three men I traveled with—a preacher and two farmers, plus the guide—they hid me under a blanket beneath my wagon.”
Kate wanted to cry at the memory. “They were all killed. All supplies stolen. The wagons burned. Mine collapsed right on top of me. By some miracle I was able to burrow deeper into a little dip in the ground, and I just let it burn around me. The wagon bed didn’t burn, and I was able to crawl out after the awful men who attacked us rode off with our small remuda of horses an
d the supplies. They killed the oxen.” Her heart ached at the memory of the friends she’d made, including the rugged old guide who’d taught her to listen to the ground. “I just started walking, hoping I’d find someone to help me.”
Luke shook his head. “Why in hell did your guide leave so late in the year for Oregon? It’s too late to get over the mountains. It’s already snowing up there.”
“We were going to lay over in Utah at a Mormon settlement.”
“The fact remains, you’re in outlaw country now, and you won’t find much help among the kind of men who live out here. They call this the Outlaw Trail. Runs from Canada practically all the way to Mexico.” He fanned the flames with his hat. “You’ve likely figured out that men come here to hide from the law. No lawman will show his face in this country.”
Kate knew it to be true, but her heart fell a little more at hearing it. “Are you an outlaw, Mister Bowden?”
Luke managed a light laugh. “Depends on what you consider an outlaw. Once I catch up to those men who hanged me, I reckon I’ll end up being called a murderer. Just rest your mind that I’m no woman-beater, and I don’t kill men without good cause. And I sure as hell wouldn’t harm someone who just saved my life, so get that worried look off your face. And call me Luke, not Mister Bowden. Can I keep calling you Kate?”
“Of course.”
“Well, Kate, grab that blanket you slept with last night. Sit by the fire for a while. We’ll eat a couple of biscuits and then leave.”
“Luke, it’s a terrible thing you went through yesterday. I think you should rest one more day.”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. Time is of the essence. Those sons of bitches—pardon my language—but they stole what’s mine and tried to kill me. A man doesn’t forget something like that.” He coughed again and rubbed at his throat. “I want to hunt them down.” He coughed again. “I’m sorry, but that comes first, and I’ll travel faster alone. I know a place where you can stay and wait. I’ll leave you food and water and blankets.”
Kate rubbed at her eyes. “Right now, I need to you to look away while I go behind that big rock to…well…”
“Everybody needs to pee when they wake up, ma’am. I already took care of my own needs. Go ahead. Then get over here and warm yourself more. I’m surprised you were able to sleep at all with only my old coat and my bedroll to bed down with. It gets damn cold in this country at night. You must kind of hurt all over after what you’ve been through.” He met her gaze. “How long ago was the attack?”
“Four days, I think. I’ve been wandering so long and was so hungry and thirsty and worn out, I lost track. I’m afraid I ate some of your biscuits last night.”
“No problem.”
Kate wanted to ask so much more. Where was he from? What was he doing out here herding cattle by himself? Where was he headed when the outlaws stole his herd? Was he married? Did he have family somewhere? Was he even telling the truth about not being an outlaw and not being a threat to her? And how did he think he was going to take on four men all by himself?
She stood up and walked to the boulder, glad it was just big enough that he couldn’t see her kneel behind it and lift her skirts.
Just as she started to rise, a quail fluttered upward from where it was hidden in tall grass. Kate gasped in surprise and quickly pulled up her drawers. She jumped and let out a little scream when a gun went off. She hurried around the boulder to see the quail drop to the ground some distance away.
Luke turned to her, rifle in hand, and nodded. “Our supper,” he told her. “Now if we can find some water, we won’t starve or die from thirst.”
Kate walked back to the fire while Luke walked off to find the quail he’d shot. Well, Luke Bowden, you are apparently a strong and able man when it comes to survival. And at least you seem to know this country.
Whether or not he could be trusted was still to be proven. Right now, he was weak and grateful. Men changed when they got stronger, and she was already aware from some men’s attitudes and remarks what some men thought a widowed woman needed. She prayed Mister Luke Bowden was not a drinking man, or that a meaner side would not show itself as he grew stronger. Right now, he was all the hope she had of getting out of this place alive.
Four
Luke buttoned the collar of his wool jacket closer around his neck, then pulled his left foot from the stirrup. “Put your foot in the stirrup and climb up behind me,” he told Kate, reaching down for her.
“Are you sure you should be doing this?” Kate asked. “You don’t look good. Getting hanged isn’t like having a cold or something. You’re seriously injured.”
“I’ll manage.”
His voice was so pitifully raspy that Kate couldn’t help feeling very sorry for him. She threw a blanket over the horse’s neck, then grasped Luke’s hand and put her left foot into the stirrup. “Are you sure this isn’t too much weight for your horse?” she asked.
Luke helped hoist her up, and she settled in behind him, surprised and impressed with how easily he’d pulled her up. He was a strong man, but she couldn’t help worrying how easily he could use that strength against her.
“You don’t weigh much,” he replied. “Ole Red will be fine, especially since we managed to make up a travois from some of those tree limbs to carry the supplies separate.” Luke handed her the blanket she’d draped around Red’s neck, and she laid it over her legs and huddled against his back.
Luke had been right. Even though it was still August, the morning had already grown colder instead of warmer, and the sky was getting darker instead of brighter. She could hardly believe the change in the weather, after sweating so much the past four days.
She had no choice now but to wrap her arms around Luke’s solid middle and hang on tight as he kicked his horse into motion. She glanced back at the doused camp fire they had shared, wondering where on earth life would take her from here. Although Luke Bowden was a complete stranger, she was grateful to have finally found some kind of help.
She’d smoothed the wild curls of her hair back at the sides as best she could and secured it with the three combs she’d managed to hang on to after the wagon attack. That day her hair was piled on top of her head with several combs. It had fallen down, section by section, as she walked mile after mile, looking for help, not even knowing which direction she’d taken. She desperately needed a bath, a real bed, and a decent change of clothes.
“Tell me again where we are going,” she said.
“A town called Lander, but I need to find a decent place for you to wait while I take care of the men I’m after and get the supplies we need. There’s a cave where men sometimes hole up on the way there. Hoping to reach it by nightfall.”
Kate looked around at nothing but more wide-open valley surrounded by miles and miles of the same high, flat-topped cliffs. How a man found his way in country like this, she could not imagine. It seemed impossible there could be a town anywhere even remotely close, and everything looked identically empty and endless. She saw no signs of life. She did see trampled grass ahead of them. The stolen herd of cattle had left an easy path. She looked down at it when the horse stumbled.
“Easy there, Red,” Luke soothed.
Kate noticed the quail he’d shot was bouncing against the horse’s rump, where Luke had tied it upside-down after gutting and beheading the bird to let the blood drain as they rode. The travois, tied to the back of the saddle, dragged and bounced behind the horse and made scratching and tearing sounds as it was pulled through the grass and over patches of gravely ground.
“Luke, we can’t travel like this for more than a couple of days. It’s too hard on the horse and too awkward for us.”
“I am well aware of all of that,” he answered, his voice hoarse.
“I’m sorry,” Kate told him. “Are you sure you know what direction we are going?”
“North. Trust me. I
used to hunt in wild country with my pa a long time ago. Learned how to track things. Besides, I’ve been living out here the past couple of years. I know this country, and I know north from south.”
Kate wondered why he’d chosen to stay in such desolate country, but she didn’t ask. It was too hard for the man to talk, and it really was none of her business anyway. They rode a while in silence. Kate looked up when she heard the cry of an eagle and saw the big bird floating on an air current, making it all look so easy. She thought how, from above, she and Luke Bowden must look like nothing more than two specks against the yellow grass, no bigger than bugs against a landscape so magnificently vast.
Red plodded along, his riders rocking back and forth with the horse’s gait, the horse snorting and tossing his head at times. Luke had given the animal a little water before they left, but the poor animal needed more. All three of them needed more.
“Who were those men who hanged you?” Kate asked Luke, feeling she needed to break the awkward silence in spite of how difficult it was for Luke to talk.
“I’ll explain later,” he answered.
A cold wind suddenly picked up and rushed through the valley with surprising speed, making Luke duck his head. Kate lowered her own head behind his broad back, feeling guilty that she could use his body as a shield while Luke had to take the brunt of it. A light, cold rain began to fall. It was soon mixed with snowflakes, then solid snow.
“So it’s true,” Kate muttered. “It can snow in August.”
“This country is higher than you think.”
They plodded on, bent against the wind and snow, still able to follow the tracks of Luke’s cattle in spite of the fresh snow that would normally have covered them. The trampled grass left an indention that, even snow-covered, was easy to follow. They continued the miserable ride for what seemed hours, stopping once behind a huge boulder for shelter. They ate another biscuit each and drank a little water while letting Red rest. It was late afternoon when Luke drew Red to a halt and stared intently at something. He pointed and leaned back, talking close to Kate’s ear because his pain kept him from yelling above the howling wind.
Ride the High Lonesome Page 2