The Return of Wildcat Kitty and the Cyclone Kid
Page 22
“Looks like we’ll be spending a few more nights on the trail again, Cy,” Sam smiled at him.
They had found a grassy area beneath the shade of a cottonwood tree near a narrow stream. Cyclone sat with his back to the tree and Sam sat on her legs bent beneath her. She had taken off her broad brimmed hat and tossed it on the grass beside her. Her hair was long , thin like wire, and unkempt. Her face was void of color and her brown eyes looked tired.
She had a cloth spread out on the ground between them. There was some biscuits, jerky and slices of freshly cooked rabbit meat before them. Dub had shot a rabbit earlier, built a small fire and cooked it. He was presently off to the stream to gather some water for coffee. The three some had been camped for three quarters of an hour for nooning. Sam seemed confident that they were not being trailed. As they had ridden along, Sam kept checking their back trail and saw no sign of pursuit. Once in a while she had thought she had seen a puff of dust far off behind them. If they were being trailed, their pursuers were far, far behind them. Then, when the puffs no longer occurred, she had comforted herself that what she had seen were merely dust devils playing in the wind.
“Remember those nights, Cy?” Sam said, wistfully, leaning back and tossing her head like a school girl. The frazzled strands of hair hardly moved. “Those were the nights that made us man and wife.”
“Well Sam,” Cyclone said carefully, “I don’t rightfully remember no preacher man comin’ along that there trail.”
“That don’t matter none,” Sam said. “You and me alone, them nights, on the trail. Same thing as marryin’ up.”
Dub was just climbing the bank with the water. “And there’s the proof of it, Cy. Ain’t he just your spittin’ image.”
“Yeah, spittin,’” Cy agreed watching the boy stumble and spill the bucket of water.
“Dub,” his mother scolded. “Watch what you’re doing. Now go get that bucket filled again.”
Dub grunted something unintelligible, picked up the bucket and went back down the bank.
“Now where were we?” Sam said to herself to gather herself. “Oh yes. The preacher thing. Now you know that really isn’t important. Not after all these years. And we’re gonna be on the trail alone again for the next few nights. For sure that should seal the deal.”
“But we won’t be alone,” Cy reminded her, “Dub’s here.”
“Oh, that don’t matter. In case you haven’t noticed. He isn’t all there.”
“You don’t say?” Cy said as if it was a revelation he hadn’t considered. Then he smiled broadly. Sam smiled back, but Cyclone wasn’t smiling at her. He was smiling past her over her shoulder. Chief Two Owls was there coming up behind her on silent moccasined feet. With one swift move, his right arm lashed out around Sam Bell’s throat. Her eyes bulged with surprise and her breath was cut short. She tried to rise and Chief helped her by pulling her to her feet, still applying pressure. Sam Bell’s eyes closed with the air suppression. She slumped in his arms and he let her fall to the ground.
“You didn’t kill her, did you?” Cy jumped to his feet with surprising agility for him. There was genuine concern on his face.
“No Cy. I just put her to sleep for a while.”
Rap was just now climbing the bank, carrying an unconscious Dub in his arms.
Kitty came running out of the bushes into Cyclones arms. “Are you alright, Grampa? Tears were running down her cheeks.”
“Nothin’ to worry yourself about,” Cyclone said, giving her a squeeze. Looking past her shoulders he said to Rap, “You didn’t hurt the boy none?” He already knew the answer.
“Nah. Just a little nap.”
“Good,” Cy said. “Tie ‘em both up. Not too hard. I want ‘em to get themselves out of it. I just want it to take long enough for us to get away from here.”
Chapter Sixteen