Hoofbeats of Danger (7 page)

Annie looked over her shoulder, but Redbird's face was turned stiffly away. “I don't like it any better than you do, Redbird,” she declared hotly. “And it ain't Pa who objects—it's the men from the Overland,” she added, though she knew she wasn't exactly speaking the truth. “But they'll change their minds once you've cured Magpie.”

“And what if I can't cure her?” Redbird asked.

Annie halted, not knowing how to reply to that. A silence fell between them, broken only by Surefoot's hoofbeats.

Finally Annie spoke up. “I'm the one asking you, Redbird—not them. No harm will come to you, I promise. I'll make sure of that, somehow Even if you can't cure her, I'll be forever beholden to you for trying.”

Redbird drew a breath, and Annie could feel her body soften again. “Maybe we can save her,” she said, giving Annie's waist a reassuring squeeze. “It depends on many things—what kind of poison it was, how much she swallowed, how long ago it was given to her.… When you left, was she lying down, or was she moving around?”

“She was staggering around the corral, like she couldn't stand still,” Annie said, shivering at the memory. “She broke out of her stall, and the men couldn't get her back in. I hated to think of her out in that rain all night—”

“But that's one thing in her favor,” Redbird said. “She's got to keep moving, to help the poison work through her—and to prevent colic from setting in.”

Annie's spine straightened with hope. “Then if we can just keep her walking around—”

Redbird nodded. “That would help, yes. It's the best thing we can do for her, if she's really been poisoned. But, Annie, there's no guarantee. Either the poison or colic could still mean the end for Magpie.”

Annie felt her whole body go cold, even colder than it had been before.

Redbird seemed to read her thoughts. “The sooner we get to her, the better,” she said.

“We have to get there before daybreak, anyway,” Annie added, urging Surefoot on with her heels. “Pa said he'd have to shoot her if she wasn't better by then.”

“I doubt she could recover that soon,” Redbird warned. “It might take at least a full day—from sunset to sunset.”

“Then if she ain't cured, we'll hide her from them,” Annie decided. “Until the poison runs through her.”

Redbird sighed. “Hiding a horse that's half-crazed with pain? How are we going to do that?”

“We'll find a way,” Annie vowed.

By the time the girls neared the station house, the plains around them had begun to lighten with the coming day. The girls rode silently, both brooding over the task ahead.

At the foot of the station's bluff, Annie peered upward, hoping they could slip into the yard unseen. Her heart sank when she saw the stagecoach drawn up in front of the station-house door already. “Nate Slocum must be eager for an early start,” she sighed.

She pulled Surefoot to a halt and slid to the ground. Redbird hopped off, too. Without a word between them, both girls understood that they had to approach the station with secrecy. They stepped off the track and, leading Surefoot by the reins, began to sneak through the grass, circling around to approach the station from the wooded side of the bluff.

“If we're careful, we might be able to sneak Surefoot into the barn,” Annie whispered hopefully. “With the stagecoach team already harnessed, the men shouldn't be in the barn anymore.”

As they silently rounded the back of the barn, Annie's eyes flew to the corral. Magpie stood huddled in a corner, swaying drunkenly on her feet. Her head hung low as if she were finally dozing. Her muscles were still twitching, her ribs still heaving. Annie's heart broke all over again. After her grueling ride, she'd half begun to feel her mission was over. But seeing Magpie again, she realized she still had a tough job ahead of her.

Moving quietly along the corral fence, she led Surefoot through the barn door and into the warmth and safety of his stall. Then she slipped outside to rejoin Redbird.

In the shadow of the barn, the girls crouched by the corral fence. “You stay here for a minute while I try to catch Magpie,” Annie told Redbird. “I'm the only person she'll let near her. When you see I've got her, you get over to the gate and open it, quick and quiet as you can.” She scooted between the fence rails and gave a low whistle.

The mare's eyes popped open and she whinnied shrilly. Annie froze, praying that no one would come round to investigate. Maybe they had grown used to Magpie's strange cries by now.

Magpie tossed her head and rolled her eyes. Spotting Annie in the lightening dawn, she recoiled slightly but stayed rooted to the spot. Swiftly, Annie came to her side. Her fingers sought out the white lock behind the mare's ears.

Magpie seemed to relax and lean into her gratefully. Still rubbing the special spot on the horse's neck, Annie took a firm grip on the halter with her other hand. She gave Magpie's head a gentle tug in the direction of the gate.

As soon as she felt her head being pulled, Magpie's eyes rolled back in terror. As she jerked her head backward, the worn rope halter came apart in Annie's hands. Annie quickly flung her arms around Magpie's neck and hung on like a burr.

Magpie shuddered wildly and began to buck. Annie buried her face in the black mane, clutching the white lock in her fist. She clung on desperately. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Redbird waiting tensely right beside the gate.

Dimly, Annie was aware of footsteps pounding out of the barn. Twisting her head for a better look, she glimpsed the burly stagecoach guard, Mr. Ambrose, striding into the yard. In his right hand he waved something. Annie saw a metallic glint and guessed it was a long-barreled pistol. Redbird, frightened, dove between the fence rails into the corral.

With a sharp crack, the pistol fired into the air. Magpie neighed in terror and reared up, flinging Annie to the ground. Annie rolled away, cringing beneath the mare's hooves. She reached Redbird's side and the girls hugged each other for safety.

Now footsteps seemed to come from all parts of the station. A flurry of shouts arose.

Annie heard her father call out roughly to the guard, “What do you think you're doing, Ambrose?” The pistol fell to the ground with a sharp thud.

The guard answered urgently, “An Injun in the corral! Can't you see?”

As Magpie rocketed away from her, Annie dared to raise her head. She saw her father fumble with the latch of the corral gate, then swing the gate open. Magpie, head down like a bull, charged straight at him, making a reckless dash for freedom.

Pa tried desperately to get out of the horse's way, but his right foot slid in the mud. Magpie reared, her forelegs pawing the air.

With a sickening
thunk,
her left forefoot caught Pa in the side of his head. He reeled backward, then fell limply to the ground.

Magpie wheeled and raced out of the open gate into the shadowy pine scrub.

C
HAPTER
8

I
NTO
THE
W
OODS

Annie didn't even remember running across the corral. The next thing she knew, she was kneeling beside her father. Her pulse pounded in her ears. All she could do was stare down at her father's motionless figure and the stain of dark blood on the ground beneath his head. Redbird knelt behind her, gently feeling Pa's wrist for his pulse.

Drawn by the uproar, people ran from all corners of the station—Billy, Jeremiah, Nate Slocum, various passengers. Mrs. Dawson came hurrying out of the station house, wiping her hands on her apron. As she reached the corral gate, all the color drained from her angular face. Pushing aside the onlookers, she knelt beside her husband.

“How did this happen?” she moaned, hoarse with emotion. No one replied at first, and her voice rose harshly. “Will someone please tell me what happened here?”

Ambrose bent over to pick up his gun. “That crazy horse kicked him in the head,” he said uncertainly. “It must have gotten spooked when I fired my gun.”

“And why did you fire your gun?” Ma demanded, still not looking up. She reached out gingerly to touch the bloody gash in her husband's temple.

“I just fired a warning shot. I had to, when I saw that Injun near the corral.” He nodded toward Redbird, who was kneeling just behind Annie.

Annie twisted her hands tensely in her lap, hearing the accusation behind his words. She saw her mother's eyes fly up, looking for an Indian intruder. But seeing Redbird instead, Ma closed her eyes gratefully. “Redbird! You're the answer to a prayer. We'll be needing your touch.”

Nate Slocum strode past the knot of curious passengers. Annie saw genuine worry in his keen blue eyes as he looked at the stationmaster sprawled on the ground. “That's a nasty wound, Mrs. Dawson,” the driver said. “Let's move him inside.” He turned and motioned to three passengers standing behind him. “Give us a hand here, fellas. You there, take his feet.” The skinny man in spectacles hastened to obey. The two gray-haired men eased their hands under Mr. Dawson's shoulders.

Nate Slocum gently cradled the stationmaster's injured head in his palms. “One, two, three, lift,” Slocum said. The team hoisted Annie's father shoulder high and began to shuffle in step toward the station house. As Annie sprang out of their way, she noticed Davy and the boy named Horace silhouetted in the firelit doorway, watching with frightened eyes. Seeing the men carrying the limp body toward him, Davy whimpered and scurried out of the way. Annie felt a stab of sympathy for her little brother, overlooked amid all the confusion.

As her father was carried inside, Annie stayed behind, feeling useless. She stared around the bare station yard, washed by the morning's first rays of thin sunlight. She saw Jeremiah and Billy standing by the fence, looking too shocked to tend to their chores. The stagecoach guard stood a little ways beyond them, his hands hanging at his sides.

Behind Annie, Redbird started to move silently toward the station house. Ambrose lunged forward and grabbed her by the shoulder. “You're the cause of this trouble. You stay right here,” he declared.

Redbird froze.

Annie angrily thrust herself between the guard and her friend. “I brought Redbird here,” she protested. “We were hoping to help Magpie. If that gunshot of yours hadn't scared her off—”

The guard tightened his grip on Redbird. “Are you sure she aimed to
help
that horse, Miss Dawson? You can't trust an Injun. They're all out to ruin the Pony Express.”

Redbird stood still under his grasp, but her voice quivered with anger. “My mother's people have always been friendly to whites,” she said with icy calm. “They welcomed my father into their village, even though he is a white man. Later my father helped build this very station house. We consider the Dawsons our neighbors—and our friends.”

Ignoring Redbird, Ambrose turned to Annie. “Weren't you told yesterday not to bring this Injun down here? Don't you listen to your pa? This is a serious infraction of regulations. I hate to do this, but it's my duty to report it to headquarters. The Overland Express can't have stationmasters who fraternize with Indians.”

“Why not?” Annie snapped back.

The guard drew himself up to his full height. “Why, I've never heard such impertinence. A pretty little girl like you ought to have better manners. Seems clear we can't expect Dawson to run a station right. He can't even keep his family in line.” He pursed his lips and shook his head regretfully. “This'll cost him his job, all right.”

Annie defiantly crossed her arms, but she bit back her words. Why had she been so rash? she silently chided herself. It was more and more clear that this man was a spy for the Overland's bosses. Would her family have to leave Red Buttes now?

Just then Annie noticed that her mother had come up behind her. Ma shot Ambrose a dark look. “You're in no position to threaten others,” she told him in a low, dangerous voice. “You're the one who fired your gun recklessly. You caused a stationmaster to be injured, and allowed a valuable pony to escape. If anyone gets in trouble, it should be you.”

She pushed his hand from Redbird's shoulder. “I know this girl; she's no threat to the station. In fact, we've always relied on the Wilsons for help. I need her help now in treating my husband. I'll thank you to let her go.”

The guard frowned and shook his head, but he stepped away from Redbird. She turned and followed Mrs. Dawson into the station house. Annie wrapped a braid around one finger, uncertain whether to follow. If she went inside, would she just be in the way?

Ambrose stalked away, grumbling under his breath. Annie watched him go with a sinking feeling. He'd seemed genial before, but now she saw he had a vicious side as well. Annie feared that her mother's actions had only confirmed the spy's bad opinion of the Dawson family.