Kennick came out of it slowly, as if he were climbing out of a deep, dark chasm. There was light somewhere, and he rose toward it gradually. He finally realized that his eyes were open and he was staring up at the sky. He heard faint sounds near him. Suddenly, he felt sharp, biting pain in his shoulder. It forced a grunt out of him and sweat broke out on his face.
‘Luke! Thank God! I thought you’d never wake up.’
Kennick rolled his head in the direction of the voice. Jeannie was beside him, the rifle back in her hands. Looking up at her, he saw the raw bruise above her left eye.
‘You all right?’ he asked.
She nodded, put down the rifle and helped him sit up. She passed him a canteen and Kennick drank gratefully.
‘Your shoulder, Luke,’ Jeannie said.
She helped him off with his shirt. Kennick could see the slug’s entry point: a round, puckered hole just below the bone. He’d been lucky. A half-inch higher and he would have had a shattered shoulder bone. As it was, he’d lost some blood and got some pain.
‘How’s it look?’ he asked Jeannie.
‘It looks worse than it is I think. You bled a lot but it’s stopped now. Only,’ her voice trembled, ‘the bullet made a mess coming out.’
‘See if you can find any clothing in those saddlebags.’ Jeannie’s search produced a couple of clean, faded shirts. Kennick chose a plain gray one and tossed it to her. ‘Tear it up for bandages.’
After a brief struggle, Jeannie tore the shirt into long strips. Under Kennick’s instructions, she closed the exit wound by pressing the jagged-edge flesh down with a folded wad of cloth and then bound his shoulder tightly. Gentle as she was, Kennick went through hell. He figured he must have sweated a good half-canteen full. The bandaging done, Jeannie helped him into the other shirt she’d found. It was a tight fit but it would serve. Kennick put his hat on and let Jeannie help him to his feet. He stood still for a moment. He was giddy and his shoulder throbbed painfully.
‘Will you be all right, Luke?’
He nodded. ‘I reckon so. If I fall flat on my face, you’ll know I’m wrong.’
Taking his time, Kennick crossed to where Kicking Bear lay. Jeannie had draped a blanket across the Indian’s chest. Blood had soaked through, in a large, dark, wet patch. As Kennick knelt, the Comanche rolled his eyes toward him.
Tor a white you fight well, Kennick,’ he said. His voice had lost its arrogance, its fiery strength. But his eyes still shone with some inner strength that was more than physical.
Kennick pulled away the blanket. Kicking Bear’s chest was covered with blood. It came from the ragged hole Kennick’s slug had punched. Now Kennick became aware of the harsh rasping sound that came with each breath the Comanche took.
‘Fetch the rest of that shirt, Jeannie.’
He used a small wad to plug the hole, then wound a strip round the Indian’s chest to hold it in place. While Kennick was doing this, Kicking Bear lost consciousness.
‘Will he live?’
Kennick shrugged. ‘I’m no doctor. He needs proper attention.’
‘Can he stand the rest of the journey to the river?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘You wanted so much to get him there, Luke.’
‘And he was determined not to get there. Looks like he’ll get his way.’
‘I feel this is all my fault. I let you down.’
Kennick touched her arm gently. ‘What happened?’
‘I’m not sure. Everything was quiet. Kicking Bear seemed to be asleep. I must have let my attention wander. Next thing I knew, he was standing over me. He made a grab for the gun. It went off as he jerked it out of my hand. Then he hit me with it and I fell.... Luke, I’m sorry. I....’
‘You’ve no need to be. I shouldn’t have left you. Don’t fret none. It’s done. No amount of worrying will change it. What we do now, if we can, is to figure out where we go from here.’
‘Who was out there?’
‘Who—? Oh! It was Griff and Beecher. They had a run in with the Comanches who made those tracks we saw.’
‘So close?’Jeannie shivered ‘Are they—?’
‘Dead? No. Might be better if they were. They fell to fighting each other and the Comanches just up and took them. Alive.’
‘What will happen to them?’
‘Nothing nice.’
Kennick rose to his feet and moved away. After a moment Jeannie followed him.
‘Something’s worrying you, Luke. What is it?’
‘Griff and Beecher.’
‘Those two! After what they’ve done to you can you still worry about them?’
‘Maybe that’s the difference between them and me, Jeannie. Maybe I care too much. Maybe they could go off and leave a man to the Comanches. I don’t think I can.’
He turned to her, studying her face as if seeking an answer.
‘Yes, Luke, you care too much. You’re the kind who goes through life looking out for other people.’
‘You figure it’s wrong?’
She put out a hand to him. ‘No, Luke, not wrong. Right. It’s a good way. It’s a feeling more people should have. I’m glad you do.’
‘Jeannie, maybe we can do something. One way or another, we’ve got to do something. We’ve got to change trails. First off, Kicking Bear isn’t going to reach the Brazos alive. It’s too far. I don’t give a damn how bad the Army wants him. I can’t work miracles. There’s nobody wants that Indian to pay for what he’s done more than me, but I’m not hauling a dying man round the country for the sake of a personal grudge. Or Army strategy. Red or white or blue, a man’s got a right to die in peace, if he’s able.’
‘Go on, Luke.’
‘We can wait out here. Or....’
‘Or we can take him to his own people,’ Jeannie finished for him.
Kennick nodded. ‘And maybe do something for Griff and Beecher.’
‘A trade?’
‘Maybe.’
He looked at her as he spoke, knowing what he was asking her to do. He didn’t relish the idea of riding into a hostile Comanche village. It had been done, but that didn’t make thinking about it any easier. It was a big chance to take. The kind of chance that could go very wrong. Dead wrong.
Kennick saw that Jeannie was smiling gently at him.
‘I can guess what you’re worrying about, Luke, but don’t. I said before I’m in this with you. To the end. Whatever you decide is for both of us.’
He saw she meant it, and he couldn’t find words. How did a man tell a woman his feelings for her? Did he fumble something out, or did he keep his fool mouth shut and thank God for the goodness in it?
Kennick shook his head in bewilderment. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her, ignoring the stabbing pain in his shoulder. And Jeannie was told all she needed to know.
‘Go pack the gear,’ Kennick said, releasing her. He stepped across to where Kicking Bear lay.
Jeannie watched him for a moment, smiling to herself. She realized fully what his decision could mean for them both. But she knew she would follow no matter where he went.
She crossed to where their gear lay and began to roll up the blankets. As she did, she looked down at the place she’d shared with him the night before. A warm flush colored her cheeks. She almost laughed, thinking how shocked ladies back home in Layersville would be at the thought of her spending the night under a blanket with an ex-cavalry officer. But Layersville seemed like another world. What did it, or its ways, have in common with this vast, violent land of heat and silence and sudden death. Out here a person lived a lifetime in a day and took whatever came as a matter of course. Like wearing pants and carrying a gun, she thought wryly. Rolling the blankets, she collected the saddlebags and other gear and carried it all across to where the saddles lay. Kennick joined her.
‘Kicking Bear’s still out.’
‘How can he travel, Luke?’
‘I’ve got a notion. Pity there’s no trees around. If I had me a couple of long poles, I could rig up a travois.’
‘That the thing the Indians drag behind their ponies, isn’t it?’
Kennick grinned. ‘Sounds like at least some of the tales about the West that reach Boston might be accurate.’
He selected the largest blanket from the bundle and shook it out, gauging its size. ‘If we can suspend this between two of the horses, like a hammock, it should be as good as any travois.’
With Jeannie’s help, Kennick rigged the blanket up between two of the mounts. It was a long, tiring job, involving the making of a cradle of rope over which they secured the blanket. A second blanket was laid over this for padding. Then Kennick held the horses’ heads while Jeannie climbed into the hammock to test it. When she was settled, Kennick led the paired animals around for a while.
‘It’ll support him, Luke,’ Jeannie said. ‘The problem will be keeping the horses apart. If they come too close together, he could be crushed.’
‘We’ll have to go careful is all. You can ride one of these two. I’ll take the free horse and control the other one. We should be able to manage between us. Just have to ride slow.’
Jeannie insisted on helping him to saddle up. Kennick was thankful. Any physical effort sent pain shooting through his shoulder. He remembered to reload the rifle before he placed it in the boot. He hung the remaining two water-canteens from his saddle horn. What food they had left, he crammed into one set of saddlebags and tied them behind his saddle.
‘He still hasn’t woken up,’ Jeannie said, when Kennick led the paired horses over to where Kicking Bear lay.
Together they lifted the unconscious Indian and got him, with much difficulty, into the improvised hammock, Jeannie covering Kicking Bear with the one remaining blanket. Kennick had propped himself up against one of the horses. He used his sleeve to wipe sweat from his face. He felt weak and sick. His shoulder hurt bad, and he knew there was no way of relieving it. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he wondered how long he’d be able to sit a saddle. God knew how long they’d be riding. He hoped that the Comanches’ trail would be easy to follow. He was in no condition to do a lot of back tracking and fooling about.
He looked around to see if they’d missed anything. There was only the discarded saddle and an empty canteen. He helped Jeannie to mount, then climbed awkwardly into his own saddle.
‘Ready?’
Jeannie nodded. As they moved off Kennick glanced down at Kicking Bear. The Comanche looked near dead already. His face was almost gray, the flesh drawn, the closed eyes looking sunken in the skull, the mouth a bloodless gash. His chest rose and fell very slowly. He was still breathing. Just. Kennick hoped he would go on breathing, hoped they could make some good come out of all this.
The ravine walls echoed the sound of their passing, and for a moment Kennick had the forbidding feeling of riding beneath Death’s dark shadow. It didn’t leave him even when they rode out of the ravine into the full glare of the sun.