‘I need to check the cattle in the high meadows.’
Sam set the axe head on the ground and turned his attention to Kate. He tried unsuccessfully to swallow the lump in his throat that seemed always there when he looked at her. He couldn’t explain her effect on him. He was helpless to keep his eyes from scanning up and down the length of her body, then settling on the magical depths of her eyes, every time she approached him.
He forced his mind to what she had said, instead of the myriad images that clamored for primacy in his thoughts.
‘I could use a break.’ He tried to sound casual. ‘Mind if I ride along?’
The change in her expression betrayed her hope that he would offer exactly that. ‘I’d like that,’ she responded. ‘Maybe Billy would like to ride along too. I think he’s getting a little bored just watching your horses.’
Sam nodded. ‘He was all excited about it the first day. By now he’s figured out they aren’t going anywhere as long as they’ve got all that good grass and water.’
She nodded in agreement. ‘I’ll pack us some lunch. There’s a spring up there with really good water. We can call it a picnic, as well as checking on the cows.’
‘Don’t know how a man could resist an offer like that,’ he grinned, fighting down the sudden and surprising resentment that Billy would be coming along.
Half an hour later they trotted from the yard together. Along the way she kept up a lively commentary on the features of her range. She pointed out where they brought the herd for calving, she indicated the most sheltered areas for winter range. Billy showed him where he had shot his first coyote, just as it was attempting to sneak up on a newborn calf without being seen by the calf’s mother.
‘Mountain lions and coyotes got almost half of our first year’s calves,’ Kate told him. ‘It took us the first two years to get their numbers cut down enough we could afford the losses.’
‘There’s gettin’ to be enough ranches in the country they ought to be gettin’ ’em thinned out,’ he observed.
‘They’re not as bad as they were,’ she agreed, ‘but they still get plenty. It really makes me mad when they kill baby calves that aren’t old enough to try to run.’
‘Easy prey,’ he muttered, with the westerner’s universal hatred of the predators.
They reached the spring without seeing any cattle. He could tell by the way she kept scanning the horizons that she was getting concerned. She tried to keep it from showing as she pointed out the promised location of their spontaneous picnic.
Reddish rocks thrust upward out of light brown clay, forming a rugged ridge that reached thirty feet upward. In a semicircle of the monolithic upthrusts, ice cold water flowed, forming a crystal-clear pool thirty feet in diameter. The lower end of the pool flowed into a rivulet of water that meandered along for three quarters of a mile before being absorbed into the eternally thirsty soil. For that three quarters of a mile brush and grass proliferated, making a slash of brilliant green in the middle of a more arid table land.
Tracks of cattle, as well as those of deer, antelope, elk, bear, cougar, coyote, and other animals attested to the popularity of the ever-present water. Numerous bones in varying stages of sun-bleached whiteness bore witness to predators’ awareness of the consistent drawing power of that water, attracting the prey they sought.
‘I never have figured that out,’ Sam pondered aloud.
‘Figured what out?’ Kate responded.
Sam watched the spring water surging up out of the ground for a long moment. He turned, looking at the surrounding country. ‘Well, water runs downhill, right?’
‘Well, yes,’ she replied, as if stating something far too obvious to need stating.
‘So here we are, high enough to see the country for miles around. This is probably the highest point this side of the mountains yonder. And up here on this high point, water comes bubblin’ up outa the ground. Where’s it comin’ from? How does it get up here?’
Kate frowned at the spring as if it had somehow offended her. She looked back at Sam. ‘I never really thought about it. I always figured the springs in the mountains came from snow melt higher up, but there isn’t any “higher up” here. I don’t know.’
‘And it’s ice cold,’ Sam stated, as if adding to an imponderable mystery.
‘Springs is always plumb cold,’ Billy announced with the absolute certainty of an eight-year-old.
Kate smiled, but shook her head. ‘I’ve heard there are springs up north where the water comes out of the ground boiling hot.’
Sam nodded. ‘I’ve heard of them. There’s a spot I heard about over in Dakota Territory that’s even stranger.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Well, from what I’ve heard, there’s a spot at the south end of the Black Hills, where hot springs come up outa the ground. They’ve built some bath houses there, and such, where people go. It’s supposed to be good for what ails ’em. The crick is called “Hot Brook”. Then there’s another canyon that runs parallel to it, less than a half mile away. There’s a bunch of springs in it too, but they’re ice cold. That crick is called “Cold Brook”. So you’ve got Hot Brook and Cold Brook comin’ up outa the ground within half a mile of each other, and both runnin’ to the Cheyenne River. The fella that was tellin’ me about it swore up an’ down it’s the Gospel truth.’
‘That’s plumb funny,’ Billy interjected.
‘That is really strange,’ Kate agreed.
‘Almost as strange as sittin’ here talkin’ about hot and cold water instead of eatin’ that lunch you brought,’ he brought her back to the present.
Kate giggled. ‘Just like a man. Always thinking of your stomach.’
Sam started to retort, ‘Not always,’ but decided against it. Instead he just grinned in response. For the next half hour they ate, talked, and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company. It was not lost on Kate that Billy chose to sit almost against Sam, instead of next to her.
By the end of the half hour she began to grow antsy. ‘I really am concerned about why we haven’t seen any cattle,’ she fretted.
‘Does seem odd,’ he agreed. ‘Cattle tracks at the water are several days old.’
The return of that concern goaded them into action and ten minutes later saw them again in the saddle. They had ridden less than a mile when Sam veered off to one side. He rode a hundred yards that direction, then guided his horse in a large circle.
‘What are you looking at?’ Kate called.
He rode back next to her, Billy trailing immediately behind him, before he answered. ‘I think we got a problem.’
‘What?’
‘Rustlers.’
Her sharp intake of breath betrayed the impact of the word. ‘Why?’
‘Somebody’s been hazin’ cattle thataway. Let’s see where the tracks go.’
She was a woman of the west, but she was not a tracker. Unable to see what tracks he meant, she was content to let him lead the way. Within another mile even she could clearly see the trail left by a large bunch of cattle being driven. ‘They must have rounded up fifty or sixty head,’ she offered.
‘At least that,’ Sam agreed. ‘They’ve stopped gatherin’ and they’re movin’ ’em outa the country.’
‘How long ago?’
‘Not long at all. Today, I’d say.’
‘Can we catch up to them?’
‘Easy. They can’t move that many cows nearly as fast as we can ride. Don’t get in a hurry, though. We don’t know who they are or how many. We don’t want to ride up on ’em too fast.’
She was content to let Sam take the lead. ‘Billy, I want you to stay behind me.’
‘But, Ma! I wanta ride up there with Sam.’
‘You heard me.’
Reluctantly Billy dropped back to half a length behind her. His expression eloquently announced his discontent with the arrangement, however.
Two hours later they began to hear distant sounds of cattle being driven. Kate pulled her rifle from its scabbard. She checked the chamber to assure herself it was loaded, then let it rest across her legs, between her and the pommel of the saddle.
Billy started to do the same with the twenty-two caliber rifle he carried, but she stopped him. ‘Billy, you leave that gun where it is. You’re not going to get involved in anything with guns. And if I tell you to get down, I want you to get off your horse and lay down on the ground. Is that understood?’
‘But Ma! I can shoot good.’
‘You heard me.’
Billy silently and mockingly mouthed, ‘You heard me,’ in silence. His face was red with anger, but he held his silence.
Glancing at the sky, Sam estimated little more than an hour of daylight left. He dropped back beside Kate. ‘Is there any water ahead, where they might settle ’em in for the night.’
She nodded. ‘There’s a basin another mile ahead, with a really big old buffalo wallow in the bottom. It’s usually full of water unless it’s been an awfully dry year. We’ve had a lot of rain this summer, so it’d be a good spot.’
Accordingly he was content to match the pace of the herd, keeping at least one hill between it and them. When the sounds and the decreasing dust being raised indicated they were, in fact, bunching them for the night, he dismounted. ‘You two hang tight for a little bit. I’m gonna slip up on that ridge and see what I can see.’
They watched as Sam worked his way up the slope, removing his hat at the top so he could peer through the low sage without being seen. He stayed motionless there, watching, until the lower slopes were bathed in deep shadows. Then he worked his way backward until he could stand and walk without being seen.
‘How many are there?’ Kate asked.
‘Five of ’em.’
‘Are they camping in the cottonwoods?’
He nodded, noting with approval her knowledge of the land she ranched. ‘Right at the north end of ’em.’
‘There’s a draw that runs almost to the trees there. We could walk up that draw and be almost in their camp before they had any chance of seeing us.’
‘You’re readin’ my mind,’ he nodded, ‘except for that “we” part. This isn’t something for a woman. They’ve set one man out to watch the herd. Once it gets good and dark, I’ll take him outa the mix first.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Those are my cattle, Sam Heller. Billy will stay with the horses, and the two of us will deal with the rustlers. And don’t try to argue. The only way you can keep me from going with you is to tie me down, and if you think you can get that done you’ve got another think coming.’
He studied the set of her jaw and the flash of her eyes for a long moment, thinking of a lot of things other than rustlers and cows. He decided not to offer any answer, certain he could keep her with Billy and out of danger when the time came.
A whiff of wood smoke drifted on the breeze. Kate lifted her head. ‘They’re fixing their supper. They’ll all be in their blankets within an hour.’
He nodded. ‘We’d just as well loosen the cinches and let our horses rest and graze. I’ll go take care of the night hawk when it’s good and dark.’
They sat down on the ground together, talking softly, acting as if they had not a care in the world until it was fully dark. ‘Guess it’s about time,’ Sam said, standing. ‘Moon’ll be up in another hour. Be better to move while it’s still good and dark.’
He moved off into the night as silently as a shadow. He crawled over the top of the ridge, careful not to silhouette himself against the night sky, just in case the rustler with the herd might be looking his way. While he had been on the ridge earlier, he had mapped out a route in his mind for approaching the most likely position of the night hawk. Once below the top of the ridge, he moved with speed and confidence that was surprising over ground he had never covered before.
It took him a scant fifteen minutes to reach the spot he wanted. Squatting in the edge of a tall clump of sage, he watched and listened intently. Almost immediately he heard the squeak of saddle leather, approaching from his right. He watched that direction, remaining motionless.
In the near total darkness, the night hawk was less than a dozen feet from him when Sam was able to pick out his form. He waited until the rider had passed almost by him, then stepped forward abruptly. He reached up and grabbed the man’s belt before the rustler had any inkling of his presence. Even his horse had not sensed Sam’s approach. As he did so now, the mount snorted and shied violently away from Sam’s unexpected presence.
The sudden hold on his belt coupled with the horse’s leap sideways unseated the rustler before he even had a chance to grab for the saddle horn. He hit the ground with a heavy thud. He immediately tried to surge to his feet, but Sam’s gun barrel connecting smartly with the side of his head ended all such effort. He crumpled silently into a motionless heap.
Sam strode to the nervous mount, crooning softly to allay his fears. He removed the man’s lariat from the saddle, quickly tied him hand and foot, then strode away.
He knew Kate and Billy were waiting for his return but instead of returning to them, he headed straight for the draw he had already spotted before Kate suggested it. By the time they realized he wasn’t coming back for her, he should have the rustlers fully dealt with.
He eased into the bottom of the draw as silently as possible. Even then, he was painfully aware of the small avalanche of dirt his movements released. He waited motionlessly until it stopped and silence returned. He started to move on when a voice to his right nearly caused his heart to stop.
‘I’m right over here,’ the very soft voice informed him.
He recognized Kate’s voice instantly. Then he nearly collapsed with a surging mix of emotions he made no effort to separate or analyze. He started to bark at her, half a dozen angry admonitions fighting each other for release. Even as he did, he knew any conversation reduced their chances of surprise. He also knew there was no way to send her back. He was left with no choice but to accept her presence with him. He refused to admit to himself he was actually glad for that presence.
Silently he moved along the bottom of the draw. When he had reached what he guessed was the closest point to the probable campsite of the rustlers, he looked at her in the darkness. He felt, rather than saw, her nod agreement.
Making as little noise as possible, they worked their way, side by side, up the side of the draw. At the top they peered cautiously over the rim.
Less than fifty feet away the embers of the dying campfire glowed softly. In the near total darkness, those embers gave surprising ability to make out the forms or four sleeping men. Sam studied the scene carefully for three or four minutes before a plan formulated itself in his mind.
Wordlessly he moved over the rim of the draw and crept forward. Kate stayed close behind him, letting him take the lead.
At the edge of the camp, Sam motioned for her to stop. He crept forward, into the center of the camp itself. He had noted that all four men were on one side of the fire. Working from the other side of it, he silently and carefully placed several pieces of wood on to the glowing embers. By the time he had worked his way back to Kate, the embers had ignited the new source of fuel. The fire came to life, casting a flickering glow over the sleeping men. The effect was to cast them in light, while he and Kate were outside its reach, standing in darkness.
He breathed into her ear, ‘Watch the men. Don’t look at the fire.’
She nodded, understanding the wisdom of not letting her eyes accustom to light.
When the fire had brightened the area, one of the rustlers abruptly raised up on one elbow. He looked around quickly, obviously confused that the fire was burning brightly again.
Sam waited no longer. He fired his .45 into the fire, scattering sparks and embers in all directions. At the same time he yelled, ‘On your feet, you four. You’re surrounded. Throw up your hands.’
All four boiled out of their blankets, guns in hand, eyes darting in all directions.
‘Drop the guns!’ Sam ordered.
Two men did so. Two fired instead, at the sound of Sam’s voice. Sam’s .45 and Kate’s rifle barked at almost the same instant. Two men folded up and dropped to the ground.
The other two threw their hands as high as they could reach. ‘Don’t shoot!’ one of them called out.
‘Step over toward the fire,’ Sam ordered.
The two did as told. As they neared the fire, they exchanged a quick glance. Moving as one, they dove behind the fire, using it to momentarily conceal themselves. The instant they hit the ground they rolled to their feet and began running, directly away from the fire, trying to keep it between them and the threat that had appeared out of nowhere.
Kate jerked rifle to her shoulder, but Sam laid a hand on her arm. She looked at him sharply enough the darkness couldn’t conceal her question.
‘Let ’em go,’ Sam said. ‘I got no stomach to hang ’em tonight, and they’d be a passle o’ trouble gettin’ to town. They’re stockin’ footed and unarmed. If they can get back to whoever sent ’em after your cattle, they just might mend their ways.’
Kate looked at him in unabashed amazement. ‘Sam Heller, you are supposed to be a hardcase. I’m supposed to be the timid and tender one.’
‘The good-smellin’ soft-soap one, anyway. Even now you smell plumb good.’
‘Don’t change the subject! You’re just going to let them get away?’
‘I ’spect we already did. Let’s gather up their guns and get back to Billy.’
‘What about the one watching the cows? Did you kill him?’
‘Nope. I wrapped my gun barrel around his head, pulled his boots off and tossed ’em in the brush, and left him hog-tied.’
‘Then we’ll have to go get him. We can’t leave him there to die.’
‘Now who’s goin’ soft?’
‘Well, we can’t!’
‘I wouldn’t, anyway. I’d guess the two that took off runnin’ will find him and take him along. If not, we’ll haul ’im to town and turn ’im over to the marshal, along with these two.’ He nodded toward the bodies of the two dead rustlers.
‘Then we have to drive my cattle back home.’
‘Gonna be a long night,’ he observed, moving toward the rustlers’ horses.