The angry whine past his right ear needed no explanation. Sam dived for cover, even as he heard the ‘thwack’ of a bullet burying itself in the back of the house.
Whipping his .45 from its holster where it hung near at hand, he took cover behind a large tree. With some subconscious part of his mind, he had already aligned the whine of the leaden missile of death with the sound of its impact on the house, and knew the approximate location of his hidden adversary.
Standing gun in hand, braced with his bare back against the rough bark of the tree, he listened intently. There was only silence for a long moment, then he heard faint whispering from the copse of trees that reached nearest to Kate’s ranch house.
‘Did I git ’im?’
‘I don’t know. C’mon. Let’s just get outa here.’
Even in their whispers, the slur in their voices and lack of reasoning ability testified to the amount of courage they had drunk on their way there. ‘I ain’t leavin’ till I know I killed that worthless coyote what cost me my job.’
‘You can’t just shoot ’im down like a dog.’
‘I sure can’t call ’im out in a stand-up fight. You seen him handle that gun?’
‘If you kill ’im this way, they’ll hang you.’
‘Not if they can’t find me. We’re headin’ outa the country soon’s I take care of him.’
Sam eyed his surroundings carefully. If he had their location fixed accurately in his mind, he should be able to crouch below the level of the wood pile, scurry around the corner of the house, then approach the hidden pair from an unexpected direction.
Without hesitation he silently lifted his gunbelt and holster from their perch and slid the .45 into its holster. Careful to stay behind the tree’s massive trunk, he strapped the belt and holster around him, then fastened the strap to keep the weapon from falling out. He dropped to all fours and scuttled swiftly past the wood pile and around the corner of the house.
Ducking down, he paused to listen. No sound indicated his intended killers had noted his departure from where they thought him either pinned down or dead.
Kate stepped out of the door. She looked at Sam with a mixture of concern and fear. ‘Did I hear a gunshot?’
Sam put his finger to his mouth to shush her. ‘Stay inside,’ he cautioned in a soft voice, knowing a soft voice would actually carry less than a hissed whisper. ‘Couple fellas snuck up behind the house and took a shot at me. I’m gonna circle around and switch the surprise some.’
Kate frowned. In scarcely more than a whisper, she asked, ‘Who is it?’
He shook his head. ‘Not sure. I’m guessin’ it’s that Farmer kid. Hiram said he was gonna can ’im. I’m guessin’ he stopped by to get even before he pulls freight.’
‘You think it’s Bobby? What are you going to do?’
‘That all depends on him. Just stay in the house. Keep your rifle handy, in case it’s one of them that comes around after it’s over, instead of me.’
Without waiting for a response, he moved to the other corner of the house. Looking around it carefully, he mapped out in his mind a path of movement that would keep him concealed from his attackers. Without hesitance he followed that path as swiftly and silently as he could.
Once in the neck of timber, he moved more slowly but more confidently. Placing each foot carefully, so as not to betray his presence, he circled the pair, coming up within thirty feet of them without either one being aware of his approach.
‘You boys lookin’ for me?’
The effect of his voice was electric. One of the men leaped up with a shriek, thrusting his hands as high as he could reach into the air. The other whirled, pistol in hand, toward the surprising location of his intended prey. Before he could focus on Sam, however, a hurtling hunk of lead from Sam’s .45 drove him backward. He sprawled across the downed tree he had been using for cover and to steady his gun, dead before he slid on downward and toppled sideways.
‘Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!’ the other man pleaded, his voice suddenly sounding markedly more sober than the slurred whispers Sam had heard. ‘I done tried my best to talk ’im outa comin’ after you. I didn’t want no part o’ this. Honest. I ain’t got no bone to pick with you. Honest, Mister. Don’t shoot me.’
‘Who are you?’ Sam demanded, the harshness of his voice making the other wince.
‘My name’s Younger. Fred Younger. I been Bobby’s friend on the H Bar V. He talked me into headin’ down to Texas with him, when Hi canned him. We hung around town for a week, an’ he just kept gettin’ madder’n madder. But I didn’t know nothin’ ’bout him aimin’ to back-shoot you afore he left the country, or I wouldn’ta gone with him. Honest. I ain’t no back-shooter. And you gotta believe I wouldn’ta never let ’im do what he said he was gonna do to the Bond Widder. I wouldn’t let even my best friend rape nobody. Honest. I just wouldn’ta stood still for that atall.’
Sam hesitated a long moment, then said, ‘Unbuckle your gunbelt and let it drop.’
Moving as if his life depended on his haste, Younger complied. ‘Now let’s go get you boys’ horses.’
‘What … what’re you gonna do?’
‘You’re gonna put your friend across his horse and haul him to town. Then I’m gonna let you ride outa this country in one piece. But if I ever see you hangin’ around these parts again, I’ll kill you on sight.’
Relief flooded Younger’s face. ‘Thanks, Mister! You won’t be sorry. I ain’t never … I mean I wouldn’t never … I mean—’
‘The horses!’ Sam interrupted.
‘Yes sir!’
In other circumstances, his combination of running and stumbling drunkenly might have been funny. As it was, it only angered Sam further. Younger retraced his earlier steps and returned leading both his and Farmer’s horses. By the time he reached them, Sam was where he could watch to be sure he didn’t try to pull either rifle from its scabbard. Younger never so much as glanced at the weapons, hurrying as fast as his inebriated state would allow, to comply with Sam’s commands.
Grunting, sweating profusely and straining, he heaved his friend’s body across the saddle and lashed it into place. He started to mount, then turned back toward Sam. He scratched his head behind and above his right ear, knocking his hat askew without seeming to notice. ‘Uh, I know I ain’t got no right to ask this, but that there gun an’ holster set me back a couple months’ wages. If I dump the shells out’ve it, do you reckon you could see your way clear to let me take it with me? I didn’t have much money comin’ from Hi when we turned in our time, and I done drunk up most o’ that the past week. I just flat ain’t got enough money to get me another one.’
Sam considered it a long moment. The harsh lines relaxed around his mouth. ‘Get it.’
Once again, relief flooded Younger’s face. The fleeting thought crossed Sam’s mind that the cowboy would be a pushover in a poker game. Every thought in his head could be clearly read in his face. ‘Thanks, Mister. You’re a real stand-up guy. I really appreciate this. I’ll find a way to pay you back someday, if I can.’
He picked up his gunbelt and strapped it around his waist. He almost toppled over when he lifted one foot into the stirrup, but managed to grasp the saddle horn and haul himself into the saddle. Once in the saddle, he sat as if it were second nature, in spite of the whiskey he had consumed. Gripping the reins of Farmer’s mount, he rode away at a fast trot.
‘Are you sure that was a good idea?’
Sam whirled, his gun pointing at the surprising voice as if of its own volition. He jerked the gun aside violently, almost yelling at Kate. ‘Don’t ever come up behind me that way!’
Shock and surprise registered on her face, but relaxed as soon as he had swung the gun away and holstered it. ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized. ‘I got worried, because I heard one shot, then nothing more. Was it Bobby?’
He nodded. ‘Him and a friend of his, that he got drunk then roped into comin’ along with ’im.’
‘Are you sure it was a good idea to give him his gun back?’ she asked again.
Sam shrugged. ‘I don’t think he’s any threat. Even when they didn’t think I could hear ’em, he was tryin’ to talk Bobby into leavin’. He just let a bad guy use friendship to rope ’im into bein’ where he didn’t wanta be. Even then, I think Bobby had to get ’im good and drunk to get him to go along this far.’
‘He told you that?’
‘That, and other things.’
Her face mirrored her confusion. ‘Other things? What other things?’
‘It don’t matter.’
The confusion changed to determination in her face instantly. ‘I matters if it concerns me.’
‘It don’t need to concern you now.’
She threw her rifle on the ground and stamped her foot in exasperation. ‘Don’t you start trying to treat me like a dumb and helpless woman! I want to know what other things you meant. Tell me!’
It was Sam’s turn to have uncertainty telegraphed on his face. He hesitated a long moment, then said, ‘He said that no matter how drunk he was, he wasn’t going to let Bobby do what he had in mind with you.’
Her face paled with understanding of what he was saying. Almost at once the pallor was erased by the red flush of anger. ‘He thought all he had to do was get rid of you, and then he could do whatever he wanted with me? Is that what you think too? Do you think I’m just a helpless dumb widow? Listen! I do not need you to take care of me, Sam Heller! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I will take care of myself just as soon as you take those stupid horses of yours and ride out of my life.’
Her anger was reflected in his own face at once, masking the hurt her words had inflicted. The anger gave his response a much harsher edge than he intended. ‘I just might do that.’
‘Then you just go ahead and do that! And the sooner the better. If you want paying for the wood you’ve chopped and the men you’ve shot, I’ll find the money to pay you.’
‘I ain’t never asked a dime from you, and I don’t want your money.’
‘You haven’t asked for anything else either, and it’s a good thing, because there’s nothing else for you here either. The sooner you’re out of my life and Billy’s the better it’ll be for both of us.’
‘If that’s the way you feel about it, I’ll pack my stuff and be on my way within the hour.’
‘Fine! I’ll fix you a lunch to take so you won’t have to slow down until you’re clear out of the country.’
‘If I need a lunch I’ll fix it myself. I don’t need anything from you any more’n you need me.’
‘So throw it away if you want to, but you’re not leaving without something to eat in your saddle-bag.’
With that she scooped up her rifle and stamped away to the house. With equal anger boiling within him, he walked swiftly to where his bedroll remained spread under a large oak tree. In minutes he had his belongings gathered, his bedroll tied behind his saddle, and was ready to ride.
He had waited only scarce minutes when Kate appeared with a cloth bag, tied securely with a piece of rawhide. She almost threw it at him, rather than handing it. ‘Here’s some food,’ she said, her voice still quivering with anger. ‘I thank you for all your help and for the wood you’ve chopped. Billy and I will be just fine for the winter now.’
Sam tried to soften the hard edges of her anger. ‘Uh, Hiram said him and the boys would sorta keep an eye on your cattle.’
Her anger flared hot again. ‘Sam Heller, how many times to I have to tell you I don’t need you, I don’t need Hiram and Eduardo and Bart, and I don’t need sympathy! Billy and I will manage just fine. Now get off my place!’
Even in her anger, Sam thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He fought down the urge to reach past her anger and sweep her into his arms. He could almost taste the sweetness of her lips, feel the shape of her body against him.
Instead he stepped into the saddle and jammed his spurs into his horse’s side, riding away at a canter.
Minutes later he tried to explain to Billy.
‘You can’t leave, Sam! Me an’ Ma, we need you here!’
Sam shook his head. ‘Your ma doesn’t want me here.’
‘Yes she does! She ain’t smiled or laughed since Pa got killed, till you came. She even joked about it when her an’ me had to leave the house so you could take a hot bath with that good-smellin’ soap Ma makes. She really wants you to stay.’
The smell of that soap wafted across his memory like the grasping tentacles of some irresistible creature. It was the same smell he caught wisps of whenever he was close to Kate. She made the softest, best smelling soap he had ever used. He had never bathed as often as he had in his brief stay here.
He shook his head to rinse the thoughts from his mind. ‘I can’t stay, Billy. I’ve helped where I can. I got to get these horses back to my boss and the other ranches they was stolen from. You and your ma will be just fine.’
Billy fought in vain to keep the tears from his eyes. ‘You’ll come back, won’t you? After you get the horses took home, you’ll come back? Promise me you’ll come back, Sam!’
Sam fought against his own emotions. ‘I can’t promise, Billy.’
‘Promise me you’ll try, at least.’
Sam sighed heavily. ‘I’ll see,’ he evaded.
‘You gotta come back, Sam. You just gotta.’
Sam reined his horse away, gathered his small remuda into a bunch and started moving them south. The last words that rang in his head reached him, carried distantly on the wind, from a young boy standing clear up on top of his saddle, his hands cupped around his mouth to shout as loud as he could. ‘Please come back, Sam! Please? Please?’