CHAPTER

12

The Indians were camped haphazardly on the south bank of a river, amid a grove of cottonwood trees.

Kindle watched them through his brother’s spyglass. “Arapaho.” He handed the spyglass to Bell, who inspected it suspiciously, before gazing through it.

Though we were five hundred yards away and behind the crest of a hill, the glow of the Indians’ fire lit up the night and their celebration carried across the landscape. I fought against my memories and focused on my throbbing forearm.

“Give ’em a couple more hours,” Bell said. “They’ll be less likely to shoot straight.”

Kruger took the spyglass. “You see Quinn’s scalp?”

“I did. That fucker is mine.”

We retreated down the hill and made cold camp. I held Kindle back so he, Aénhé’ke, and I walked behind. I told him about Bell and Black and the road to Jacksboro. Kindle narrowed his eye at Bell and nodded. “I winked at you,” he whispered. “Behind the eyepatch.”

“I hardly think this is the time to be flirting with me.”

“It’s always the right time to flirt with you, Slim,” he said, and walked off to join the men and Tuesday.

“I don’t like that name,” I said. Aénhé’ke’s expression was blank. I shook my head and we joined the group.

“Major, you get to lead us down,” Bell said.

“What?” I said.

“He’s a cavalry man, right? Good at leading charges. You pick off the first Indian, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

“That’s your plan? To charge down there guns blazing?” Kindle said.

“That’s the plan.”

Kindle shrugged, but smiled as if humoring a child. “You’re the leader.”

Bell bristled. “You’re goddamn right I’m the leader.”

“How’d that happen?” Kindle said. “I’m curious. I mean, of the four of you, you seem the least likely leader. Besides Tuesday. Can’t hardly lead if you can’t talk.”

Tuesday glared at Kindle, but he continued, seemingly oblivious. “And, she’s a woman. What self-respecting man would be ordered around by a woman?”

“Think you should look in the mirror, Major,” Kruger said.

Kindle chuckled. “Fair point, Herr Kruger. Cuidado, why do you follow this boy?”

“Boy?”

“How old are you, Bell? Eighteen? Twenty? How many raids have you done since Black left? You were part of Cotter Black’s gang, right? No way he handpicked you to be his successor.”

Kruger and Cuidado glanced at each other. Bell’s fists were balled. “Stand up.”

“Keep it down,” Cuidado said. He motioned in the direction of the Indian camp.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Bell said, though his voice was noticeably softer.

Kindle met Bell face to face. He towered over the smaller man. With the slightest shift in Kindle’s demeanor he took on the bearing and countenance of his dead brother, John. Bell tried not to quake beneath Kindle’s harsh gaze when he saw it.

“Now you see the resemblance. You rode with my brother, didn’t you?” Kindle said, voice soft. “You all did.”

“When I found out he planned to sell guns to Indians, I killed him,” Bell said.

I laughed.

“What?” Bell snapped.

“You did not kill Cotter Black,” I said.

“I did. Up in Palo Duro Canyon not six weeks ago.”

I looked at Kruger, Cuidado, and Tuesday. “Is that what he told you?”

“What happened to the guns?” Kindle said.

“What?”

“If you kept him from selling guns, where are they?”

“They were useless. No firing pin.”

“So you killed him for nothing,” Cuidado said.

“He was arming Indians!”

“With useless guns,” Kruger said.

“Think Cotter Black would go into this raid like a cavalry charge?” Kindle said.

When no one spoke, Kindle continued. “The plan is this: Laura and Aénhé’ke will take care of the Indian’s horses. The five of us will come at them from three sides. They’re backed up to a river and drunk. It’ll be a shooting gallery. It shouldn’t take more than five minutes.”

“I like the Major’s plan better,” Kruger said.

“When it’s over, you take the whisky wagon and two of the horses. We take the other horses and you give us back our guns.”

Bell laughed. “Why would I do that? I’m taking her to Darlington and turning her in.”

“I guess you didn’t notice what the Indian brandishing Quinn’s scalp wore around his neck.” Bell’s expression was blank. “Laura’s jewelry. With the horses and whisky, it’s all worth more than Laura’s reward. You get your bloodlust sated, whisky to sell, two Indian ponies you can trade at Darlington, and six hundred dollars for the necklace in Saint Louis. Think of all the riverboats floating on the Mississippi waiting for you to cheat a bunch of Eastern farmers out of their money.”

“I like that plan better,” Kruger said. “Never been to Saint Louis.”

“Shut up, Kruger.”

Kruger rose and walked to Bell. Kindle stepped back slightly to give him room. “What did you say?”

You could almost smell Bell’s panic. “Kruger, listen to me. Why would we do what he wants? We can have everything, including the reward for the woman and the reward for turning him in.”

“Did he say we?” I asked Kruger. “You shouldn’t trust him. The only way he could get you to follow him was by lying about killing Black. How do you know he’s not lying to you now?”

“I’m not lying! I’ll share it all with you three. It’s what we’ve always done.”

Kruger turned to me. “How do you know he’s lying about Black?”

“Because I killed him,” I said.

“Bullshit,” Bell said.

“Black had the Comanche attack the patrol taking me to Sill. On the Red River. They took me to an Indian named Quanah, but not before they all took turns on me. When I got the chance, I put a gun to the back of Cotter Black’s head and pulled the trigger.”

Kruger, Cuidado, and Tuesday stared at me in astonishment. “She did. I was there.” Kindle addressed Bell. “How do you think I got his horse? His spyglass?”

“I don’t remember seeing you there, Charlie Bell,” I said.

“Enough talk,” Cuidado said. “We go with the Major’s plan. At midnight.”

The Indian tasked with guarding the horses was so drunk he didn’t move when Aénhé’ke and I stole them out from under him. I motioned for Aénhé’ke to take the horses back behind the hill to our cold camp. She shook her head and pointed back and forth between us.

I sighed and looked in the direction of the sleeping Indians. I didn’t want to leave Kindle unprotected. When the five left to take their positions, I’d donned Enloe’s holster and checked my gun. Three bullets. It was the one thing Bell and his men didn’t expect. I didn’t want to use the bullets on another human, but if Bell targeted Kindle, which I suspected was precisely his plan, then I would.

I hadn’t counted on Aénhé’ke wanting to stay by my side.

When I turned back to Aénhé’ke I saw the sleeping guard was no longer asleep, but sitting up, looking around as if confused by where he was. His gaze landed on me, Aénhé’ke, and his string of horses. I pulled my gun and shot him before he could sound a cry of alarm.

Unfortunately, my gunshot did, and all hell broke loose.

The horses Aénhé’ke held whinnied, reared, and tried to bolt. She held on to the rope and leaned back into it, forcing them down. She jumped on the nearest one and with the hand not holding the lead rope of the string of horses motioned for me to get up behind her. I heard the Indians wake and yell at one another in confusion. Then I heard the pounding of horses’ hooves.

Thinking only of Kindle, I ran toward the noise.

A small Indian with a rifle in his hand stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. His astonishment saved me—and doomed him. I raised my gun and shot him in the eye, picked up his rifle, and ran on.

Though no more than eight people could have been fighting, the scene was chaotic. Cuidado jerked, fell from his horse, and was immediately set on by an Indian. Kruger’s head exploded and he fell back onto his horse, but not off. His horse ran through the fire, out into the darkness, and was gone.

Bell dropped the Indian wearing my necklace. I watched Kindle take aim at Bell, but before he took the shot, someone tackled me from behind. I fell hard on my chest, the wind knocked out of me. Someone grabbed my hair, lifted my head, and banged it against the ground again and again.

She’ll turn on you first chance, mark my words.

Aénhé’ke.

My arms were pinned beneath me and I couldn’t move from the weight of my attacker. My vision swam with red and black dots and I went limp. She lifted my head and pulled it back as far as it would go. Above me the dark sky was sprinkled with stars, like grains of sugar spilt on a cast-iron skillet. The stars were blocked by my attacker’s bruised and deformed face. She opened her mouth, and with a bloodcurdling scream, revealed a toothless maw with a nub far in her throat where her tongue should be.

Blood and gore flew from her mouth at the same time I heard the gunshot. With her hand grasping my hair, Tuesday fell on top of me, dead. I tried to push myself up, but couldn’t move, or breathe. The weight was lifted and gentle hands turned me over.

Aénhé’ke knelt beside me, my smoking gun in her right hand. For a split second, I thought she was going to kill me. If I hadn’t felt so horrid, I might have cared. Instead, she helped me sit up and grabbed me when I swayed and almost fell over.

Kindle jumped from his horse and came to me. With his strong arms he lifted me from the ground, carried me to the whisky wagon, and lay me down on a buffalo robe in the back. He left and returned with a mug of whisky.

I drank it and coughed. “Rotgut,” I said, and took another drink. “It’s growing on me.” I lay back. My head throbbed, front and back. “Is everyone dead?”

Kindle took my hand. “Yes.”

I threw my forearm over my face. “I am the angel of death,” I said.

“Shh,” Kindle said. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m not going to live to see England again.”

“Yes, you are.”

I shook my head, and with a certainty I hadn’t felt in months, knew it to be true. I wouldn’t make it, but I would die to make sure Kindle did.

Aénhé’ke walked up to the wagon and held out my mother’s necklace. I took it, stared at the square sapphire pendant, and tried to remember the life I had before, to remember the woman I had been. My life back East was like a book read long ago, fondly but vaguely remembered. Instead, I saw clearly a parade of dead people—Maureen, Amos, Cornelius, Cotter Black, Oscar Enloe and the other nameless bounty hunters, the two Indians I had killed, and the dead surrounding me. After Palo Duro Canyon, I told Kindle to call me Laura because I believed Catherine Bennett to be another person. Now, staring at my mother’s sapphire-and-pearl necklace, I knew the truth of it.

Catherine Bennett was dead.