Miss Hmm tore open her purse and quickly handed him a short barrel small-caliber Colt. The major smiled in the darkness of the upturned coach. The feel of the revolver in his grasp gave him newfound confidence. He looked up at the stars. No way out but to climb through the door above their heads.
Nearby, a discussion began in Spanish, no doubt over their refusal to come out in the night.
“ … vamoose, Pablo!” Then came the sounds of someone running across the ground.
The major held his finger to her mouth for her to be silent. She nodded and remained frozen. The Colt cocked, he hunkered down, so the man had to get well up on top of the coach to see them.
Next there were sounds of a bandit climbing up, then the door opened to the sky, with the outline of his large sombrero against the starlit sky. The major sprung up, grasped him by the shirt, and jerked him down amongst them. A swift blow of the gun barrel silenced his shouting, and all was quiet. Miss Hmm made stifling sounds to suppress her terror.
“Pablo! Pablo?” Then there was the shuffle of horses being reined around and low talking from the others reached the major’s ears. He crouched beside her and said to himself, “Don’t shoot you fools, you might hit him!”
He drew the bandit’s pistol out of his holster. Then he raised with the man’s Navy in his fist. Once standing with his shoulders above the side, he fired the cap and ball at the shadowy outlines. One man pitched off his saddle. His horse shied sideways spoiling another’s aim. The major sighted a silhouette in the starlight, took a snap shot. He
thumbed the Colt into action again. Black powder smoke burned his nose. Must be homemade, he decided. At last the Navy hammer struck on empty and he fired her Colt at the elusive riders. The robbers clattered off into the night, shouting and beating their horses.
The outlaw moaned. The major looked back and could make out the small derringer that Miss Hmm held in his face.
“I didn’t want him talking,” she said.
“Good idea,” he said, sticking the two revolvers in his waistband. “Come here,” he said to her. “I’ll hoist you up so you can get out.”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice.
He wasn’t sure what she dreaded the most, him having to hold her or leaving the sanctuary of the coach. No time for concern. Under his feet, he felt his own pistol that he’d dropped earlier. Sweeping it up, he jammed it in his holster, then took her by the narrow waist and lifted her onto the side of the coach. He let her pull her legs out and scoot to the edge. Nothing the bandit could do, so he boosted himself from the coach and dropped off the side. Then he caught her again and set her down.
“We need to see if we can help the driver,” he said, looking about in the dim light. As he started up the road to look for him, she crowded close by, clutching her dress in both hands.
They soon discovered the man’s still body beside the road. In the darkness, the major knelt beside him and felt for his pulse. Nothing. He rose to his feet and shook his head.
“We can’t help him,” he said.
“What now?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Catch a loose horse,” he said. “If they haven’t run off. There should be two of them, but one will get us out of here.”
She hurried along beside him as he searched in the starlit night for the silhouette of an animal. Most western horses
ground tied. Which meant they shouldn’t go far dragging their reins.
“Over there,” he pointed and headed across the road.
“Will they come back?” she asked, carrying her dress and purse. She twisted around to look back at the coach, as if she expected the outlaw to emerge.
“Whoa, whoa,” he urged the pony, too busy to answer her questions. Acting anxious, it moved away, snorted and side-stepped from his grasp.
“Oh, horse, be still,” she said with impatience, and the pony did. It drew a smile on the major’s face. What he couldn’t get done with coaxing, Miss Hmm did by command. He reached out and caught the rope reins on the bosal and contained the horse. A check of the cinch and he swung in the old Mexican saddle. Ready for her to get on, he bent over to offer her the crook of his arm.
“Astride?” she asked.
“We don’t have time to find a side saddle,” he said, impatient for her to swing aboard behind him.
“But I don’t have a divided skirt.”
He shook his head, checked the impatient horse, and lowered his arm for her. She might not have on any dress at all if those outlaws caught them. Without a doubt, he felt certain they would do some violent things to her.
“Come on. We don’t have time for niceties. We need to get out of here right now.”
“Oh, all right. But don’t stare at my bare legs.”
“The furthest thing from my mind,” he said, and hoisted her up until she sat astride on the saddle behind him.
“Hang on,” he said, feeling the mustang arch his back and fight the bosal, ready to go to bucking. Acting broncy, he danced around beneath them. Her arms rushed around the major’s abdomen and she clasped herself tightly to his back. Satisfied she was in place, he dug his heels in the pony’s ribs and they headed west in a half run, half buck. At least for the major’s satisfaction, they were headed in the opposite direction from where the outlaws went, and also toward Yuma in the star-sparkled darkness.
Somewhere out across the silver-lit desert, a coyote moaned. He felt her shudder in revulsion at the sound and squeeze him tighter.
“My name is Gerald,” he said.
“You told me.”
“Well, then what is yours?”
“Anastacia Brown.”
“I’ll call you Ann.”
“Fine,” she said, easing her hold. “How far will we have to ride?”
“The next stage stop, I hope.” He felt her twist in the saddle and decided she must be looking back.
“Will they return?”
“Chances are good they might.”
“Make this horse go faster.”
“He’s only a small pony. I want him to make it there.”
“How far is that next stage stop?”
“Ten to twenty miles, I figure.”
“What if we lose the road in the darkness?”
“Ann, this horse will stay on it. He’s desert smart and hates cactus spines worse than we do.”
“I hope so, Gerald. I sure hope so.” She scooted up to the back of the sorry saddle and against him. Another coyote warbled at the moon and she gasped. He shut his eyes. Some mess.