Death Rides Alone (18 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: Death Rides Alone
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CHAPTER 31
“Deborah!” Tyler cried. He was halfway out the back of the wagon before Luke caught hold of his shirt collar.
“Wait a minute! Her father's got her.”
It was true. Jonathan Howard had clamped his hand around Deborah's arm and pulled her back onto the seat. The oxen were swimming hard again toward the opposite bank, dragging the wagon behind them.
Water flew high in the air as Nolan's horse surfaced, kicking and thrashing. Jonathan Howard looked around wildly and bellowed, “Nolan! Nolan!”
There was no sign of the young scout.
“Nolan didn't come up!” Tyler said as his hands clenched on the tailgate of Haskins's wagon.
“He could have hit his head on something when he went under,” Luke said. “Or his horse might have clipped him with a hoof.”
Tyler looked over at him, eyes wide with urgency, and said, “Luke—”
“Go,” Luke said with a nod.
Tyler put a hand on the tailgate and vaulted over it. He hit the ground running. It wasn't far to the creek, and Tyler covered the distance in a hurry. He splashed out into the stream and started swimming toward the spot where Nolan had gone under.
While Tyler was doing that, Jonathan Howard drove the team on relentlessly until the oxen reached the bank and pulled the wagon out. Howard stopped the vehicle as soon as it reached level ground and leaped down from the seat to run back toward the creek. Deborah was right behind him.
Luke had abandoned Haskins's wagon as well. He trotted toward the stream, as did other immigrants on both sides of the creek. As he reached the bank, Tyler's head burst up out of the water. The young man splashed for a second as he shook his head to get his soaked hair out of his eyes. Then Tyler gulped down another deep breath and went under again.
“Nolan's got to be all right,” Deborah said. “He's just got to!”
“I can't understand why he didn't come up,” Howard said as he put an arm around his daughter's shoulders and pulled her against his side. “He's a good swimmer. He always has been.”
Luke came up beside them and said, “Something must have happened to knock Nolan out when he went under. If he's a good swimmer, as you say, that's the only explanation.”
People gathered on both sides of the creek to watch with tense expectation. Luke thought about diving in the creek himself, but he realized if he did that, he might just get in Tyler's way or confuse the issue. As things stood now, if Tyler found anybody under the water, it had to be Nolan Howard.
Suddenly, with another big splash, Tyler broke the surface again. This time, he wasn't alone. He had one arm around Nolan's limp form, supporting the young scout as he tried to drive the two of them toward the bank with desperate kicks. He flailed at the water with his free arm.
“Somebody help them!” Jonathan Howard exclaimed.
Several men plunged into the water. They were able to wade out almost to where Tyler and Nolan were. One of them reached out, caught hold of Tyler's arm, and drew them closer. Then some of the other men grabbed Nolan and took the burden from Tyler. They carried him to shore, leaving Tyler to trudge on in with one man beside him, holding his arm to help support him.
Luke was waiting as the men lowered Nolan to the ground. He said, “Roll him over on his belly and turn his head to one side.” When that had been done, Luke planted a knee on either side of Nolan's torso, put his hands on the young man's back, and started pumping with both arms like a bellows.
He kept it up steadily for thirty seconds, feeling a bleakness growing inside him as he did so, but then Nolan suddenly coughed and spasmed. Creek water spewed from his mouth. Luke continued pumping for several seconds as Nolan coughed up the rest of the water he had swallowed.
Luke got to his feet and said, “Get him up and walk him around some. He was under longer than was good for him, but maybe not long enough to do any permanent damage.”
Several of the men lifted Nolan, who was still coughing and retching. His steps were uncertain, but with their help he was able to stumble along.
“Is he going to be all right?” Deborah asked.
“There's an excellent chance of it,” Luke told her. “It's a good thing Judd found him when he did, though. If Nolan had been under the water for another minute or two, it might have been too late.”
Tyler walked up, soaked and breathing hard. Deborah didn't seem to care how wet he was. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for saving my brother.”
Tyler looked a little startled, but he clearly didn't mind being hugged like that. While Deborah was still embracing him, Jonathan Howard clasped his hand and wrung it with equal fervor.
“You saved my boy's life,” Howard said. “I can never thank you enough for that, Mr. Tyler.”
“Well,” Tyler said, his voice a little hoarse because he had swallowed some water, too, “you can call me Judd. That'd be a start.”
“Thank you, Judd. From the bottom of my heart.”
“And mine, too,” Deborah said. She followed that with a kiss, twining her arms around Tyler's neck as she pressed her mouth to his.
Howard let that go on for a moment, then cleared his throat and said, “Uh, Deborah, you might want to let the boy breathe. He's been underwater, you know.”
Deborah broke the kiss, stepped back, and blushed furiously. Luke wanted to laugh at her expression, but he managed to hold it to a chuckle.
Nolan walked up, still with a man on either side of him to steady him, but he looked a lot better than he had a few minutes earlier. He thrust out a hand toward Tyler and said in an even hoarser voice, “They tell me . . . you pulled me out of there. Reckon you . . . saved my life. I'm obliged . . . to you.”
Tyler clasped his hand and said, “I'm just glad I found you in time. I was getting a mite worried.”
“Don't know . . . what happened to me.” Nolan let go of Tyler's hand and raised his fingers to a lump on his head. “Got some kind of wallop . . . when I went under. That's the last thing . . . I remember.”
Luke said, “We'll probably never know for sure how you got knocked out, but the important thing is that Judd was able to pull you before you drowned.”
“And you were able to pump that creek water out of him, Luke,” Jonathan Howard added. “We owe you a debt, too.”
“I'd say we're all square. Nolan and the other scouts saved our bacon a couple of days ago.”
Deborah said, “And the two of you saved the whole wagon train a few days before that.”
Luke smiled and shrugged.
“Like I said, let's call it square. Judd and I will get out of sight again, and the rest of you can get back to what you were doing. There are still quite a few wagons to get across this creek, you know.”
“I just hope we don't have any more trouble like that!” Howard said. “There are only so many times folks can push their luck.”
Luke hoped that didn't apply to him and Tyler having to come out into the open like they had, but only time would tell.
* * *
After near-tragedy had been averted, the rest of the wagons crossed without incident. They stood in a long line while men built fires and women boiled coffee and heated salt pork, beans, and biscuits left from breakfast.
Luke and Tyler changed into dry clothing in the back of Clint Haskins's wagon. The farmer brought them plates of food and cups of coffee.
“The little Howard gal wanted to bring the vittles, but I told her you rannihans might not be decent,” Haskins said with a grin.
“How's Nolan doing?” Luke asked.
“Seems to be all right. Still hackin' and coughin' a mite, like it's gonna take him a while to get all the water outta his innards, but I reckon he'll be fine. He's got ever' unmarried gal in the whole train fussin' over him, 'cept for his sister. She's too busy moonin' over this young fella.”
Haskins nodded toward Tyler.
“No sign of any strangers around, is there?” Luke said.
“Nope.” Haskins eyed him shrewdly. “You're thinkin' some o' them gunslingin' deputies might've been somewhere close by and spotted the two o' you?”
“It's not likely, but we can't rule it out.”
“Right now, if any of those varmints showed up and tried to take you boys away, I reckon pert' near everybody in the bunch would rise up and stop 'em. Even the ones who've been suspicious o' this young scoundrel here”—Haskins jerked his chin toward Tyler—“figure we owe him a debt on account o' what he did for Nolan.
Especially
after the way Nolan clouted him the night before.”
Tyler laughed and said, “Yeah, and I've got the bruise on my jaw to prove it. But hell, he's a good
hombre
. Can't blame a fella for wanting to look after his sister and protect her from a reprobate like me.”
“I figure you're overestimatin' what a desperado you are, son. I've known some pretty bad varmints. I'm thinkin' you ain't one of them.”
Luke had come around to that way of thinking himself over the past couple of weeks.
But there was still a matter of convincing a jury in White Fork . . . assuming they could stay alive that long.
The wagons rolled out again after the meal. Jonathan Howard urged his son to ride on their wagon for a while, but Nolan insisted on mounting up and riding out to resume his job as scout. Howard couldn't talk him out of it, so Nolan galloped ahead of the wagons, soon vanishing into the distance.
He had only been gone an hour or so, though, when a dust cloud up ahead indicated that several riders were coming fast from the north. Haskins spoke over his shoulder to Luke and Tyler, warning them of the approaching riders.
“Maybe you boys ought to get your guns back,” the farmer suggested.
“Let's wait a little longer,” Luke said. He didn't like the looks of the way things were developing, though.
When the riders came in sight, he recognized Nolan and the other scouts from the wagon train. So did Haskins. He hauled back on the reins and brought his team to a halt, forcing the other wagons to stop as well. Jonathan Howard jumped down from his wagon and hurried forward.
“What's wrong?” he asked as he put a hand on the driver's box of Haskins's wagon.
“Riders comin'. Looks like your boy and the other scouts.”
A few moments later, Nolan reined in, along with the other men. In a voice still hoarse from the earlier dunking, Nolan reported, “There's a bunch of men headed this way, Pa. Looks like they're heavily armed, and I'm pretty sure I saw sunlight reflecting from the badges on their chests.”
“Deputies from White Fork,” Howard said.
“And I think we all know who they're looking for,” Luke added from inside the wagon.
CHAPTER 32
Grim-faced, Jonathan Howard said, “I'll pass the word to all the men in the company to check their guns and get ready for trouble. We won't let those fellas take you away from us, Luke. Not after everything you've done.”
“We're obliged to you for the sentiment, Mr. Howard, but Judd and I can't allow you to put your lives at risk that way,” Luke said. “The time has come for us to leave.”
“We're lightin' a shuck?” Tyler asked.
Luke nodded and said, “I think that would be best.”
“So do I.” Tyler looked at Howard, Nolan, and Haskins and added, “No offense, but you folks don't need to get mixed up in a shooting scrape with Gus Axtell's men. They're cold-blooded killers, the lot of them. You wouldn't stand a chance.”
“We've got them outnumbered,” Nolan said.
“Wouldn't matter,” Tyler replied with a shake of his head. “Those boys are too slick. Every one of them could gun down three or four of you before you could even lift a rifle.”
“But it's just not right!” Jonathan Howard said. “We can't abandon you fellows.”
“You won't be,” Luke said. “We're the ones taking our leave of you. If we can have our horses ... and our guns back ...”
“Of course, of course. I'll see to it right away.” Howard started to turn, then paused. “Deborah's not going to like this.”
“She'll have to accept it for now,” Tyler said. “Maybe later on, things will be different.”
“I'll be counting on that,” Howard said with an emphatic nod. “We all will. Your weapons are in my wagon. I'll get them.”
“Judd, see to the horses,” Luke said. “There's no point in us hiding now.”
When Howard came back with Luke's revolvers, rifle, and knife, Luke told him, “When those deputies stop your wagons, they won't be happy to discover that we're not here. You need to tell them that we spotted their dust up ahead and took off on our own. You don't have any idea why, since we never told you anything except our names when we drifted up and threw in with your wagon train. If they accuse you of harboring fugitives, just plead ignorance and stick to that story.”
“I don't like lying,” Howard said, “or turning my back on friends, either.”
“You and your people have to live in this area, Mr. Howard. Manford Douglas might forgive you for not realizing who Judd and I were, but if he knew that you took our side against him, there's a good chance he'd make life difficult for you. You need to make sure all your people understand what I'm telling you.”
“Yeah, I guess what you're saying makes sense, but I don't have to like it.” Howard frowned. “You're talking like this fellow Douglas is going to win, though. Like Judd won't be able to clear his name.”
“Life is unpredictable. Hope for the best but prepare for the worst.”
Luke checked the loads in his Remingtons and slid the long-barreled revolvers into their holsters.
Too many times that was the best preparation of all.
Judd Tyler came up leading Luke's gray and the paint he had ridden away from White Fork in the first place. They would leave the other two horses with the wagon train. As close as they were to their destination, they no longer needed the extra mounts, which had never been more than a mixed blessing anyway.
Deborah appeared right behind Tyler, hurrying along the line of wagons. She put a hand on his arm and said, “Judd, is what I hear true? You're leaving the wagon train?”
“We've got to,” he told her. “Nolan and the other scouts spotted a bunch of Axtell's deputies heading this way. Only reason they'd be doing that is if one of the men looking for us caught a glimpse of Luke and me earlier and went to fetch a posse.”
“Somebody saw you while you were saving my brother's life, that's what you mean. So in return for that good deed, you have to run for your own life again.”
“Damn it, Tyler, she's right,” Nolan said. “That has to be the explanation.”
“That's the way it happens sometimes,” Tyler said with a shrug. “We need to be riding, before they have a chance to get any closer.”
“Take me with you.”
It was a toss-up who looked more surprised by that suggestion: Deborah's father, her brother . . . or Tyler.
Nolan said, “Deborah, you can't—”
“I absolutely—” Jonathan Howard began at the same time.
Both of them fell silent as Tyler took hold of Deborah's shoulders and shook his head. He said, “I can't do that, and you know it, Deborah. I'm on the run. It's possible those deputies will spot us leaving the wagon train and come after us, and if they do, it'll mean a running fight if Luke and I are gonna get away. There's no way I'm gonna let you put yourself in that much danger.”
“But I want to be with you,” she said.
“You will be. Later, when this is all over.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
“You know there's no way anybody can guarantee anything in this life . . . except for the way folks feel about each other.”
Tyler demonstrated that sentiment by bringing his mouth down on Deborah's in a kiss. She clutched at him, and neither of them seemed to care—or even be aware—that quite a few people were around watching them, including her father and brother.
“Well, hell,” Nolan muttered. “I want to punch him again, but I don't reckon that'd be a good idea. She's got her heart set on him, and once that little sis of mine makes her mind up, you're wasting time arguin' with her.”
Luke smiled and said, “Yes, but Judd's right. We need to get out of here now, while there's still a chance that posse won't spot us.” He raised his voice a little. “Did you hear me, Judd?”
“I heard you, I heard you,” Tyler said as he broke the kiss. He gave Deborah a tight hug, then let go of her and stepped over to take up the reins of the paint pony. “If we're gonna light that shuck, let's set it on fire.”
He and Luke swung up into their saddles and rode hard to the west, slowing only to half turn as each lifted an arm in farewell.
* * *
The terrain was rougher the farther they got from the river. Heavily wooded foothills rose in the distance, with gray mountains behind them, but another stretch of gullies and ridges ran along the edge of the basin separating Luke and Tyler from those heights.
“If we can make it to the hills, they'll have a hard time finding us,” Tyler said. “I roamed and hunted all over 'em when I was a boy. There are even some caves up there we can use to hide out in if we need to.”
“You make it sound like a good place for a desperado to cache the loot from his crooked jobs,” Luke said.
Despite the perilous situation in which they found themselves, Tyler laughed.
“No, sir,” he said. “You're not gonna trick me into spilling where that money's hidden. If I did that, you might ride off and leave me to the tender mercies of those deputies.”
Luke could tell the young man was joshing, but he said, “Surely you know me better than that by now.”
“Maybe so, but I still don't aim to trust anybody too much until this is all said and done and everybody in White Fork knows the truth.”
Luke agreed with that sentiment.
They were able to track the location of the posse by the dust cloud the deputies' horses kicked up. At first it continued almost due south toward the wagon train, but then without any warning the cloud split and some of the dust headed their way.
Tyler saw that and let out a curse.
“Somebody in that bunch must have eyes like a hawk!” he said. “They spotted us out here and some of 'em are coming after us, while the others go on and meet the wagons.”
“At this distance, they couldn't have spotted us as anything except a couple of riders. We're too far away for them to recognize. Clearly, they don't want to take a chance on who we are, though, so they're going to come after us and see.”
“Then it's time for us to fog it outta here,” Tyler said. He leaned forward in the saddle and urged the paint into a gallop.
Luke did likewise on the gray, but he called over the pounding hoofbeats, “We can't push these horses too hard. We'll run them for a mile or so and then pull back.”
Tyler nodded in understanding. He looked worried and Luke didn't blame him for feeling that way. Unless they were completely wrong about the identities of their pursuers, those men back there wanted both of them dead and would stop at nothing to achieve that goal.
They hadn't gone even a mile when the landscape got too rough for the horses to run flat-out anymore. Luke and Tyler had to pick their route through the broken land more carefully, sticking mostly to the gullies because they didn't want to be skylighted on any of the ridges. The ground was too hard and rocky to take very many tracks. Whether the posse would be able to follow them depended entirely on how skillful their trackers were.
“Dadgum it, they're not giving up!” Tyler said a half-hour later as he twisted in the saddle to check their backtrail. “That dust is still hanging back there.”
“You didn't expect them to give up, did you?” Luke asked. “There's a decent bounty on your head to start with, and Douglas and Axtell probably let their men know they can expect a bonus if you're dead. Now you're really talking about blood money.”
“They're a couple of heartless bastards. And Spence is even worse.”
“I hope we get a chance to prove that.”
They rode on, cutting across the badlands as quickly as they dared in the hope of reaching the hills where they could hide out if necessary.
When Luke glanced over at Tyler a short time later, he saw the young man chewing his bottom lip, apparently in deep thought. After a moment, Tyler said, “Luke, if something happens to me but you make it, I'd like to think you'll see to it Spence Douglas gets what's coming to him.”
“How can I do that? All I have to prove he killed Rachel Montgomery is your word.”
“I know. I've been pondering about that. I think it's about time I let you in on that evidence against Spence I've got—”
Luke felt like saying it was about time, but before he could do that, the wicked crack of a rifle filled the air and a bullet whined off the boulder Tyler was riding past. Luke jerked his head up and spotted the rifleman standing on another slab of rock twenty yards away, levering the weapon in his hands and drawing a bead on them for another shot.

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