Authors: Sabine Starr
Lady Gone Bad (16 page)
Chapter 31
“I
want more!” Lady turned in her saddle, giving Rafe a look hot enough to set his clothes on fire.
want more!” Lady turned in her saddle, giving Rafe a look hot enough to set his clothes on fire.
He smiled. They’d already stopped twice along the road. “If you polish my knob any more, I’m not going to be able to wear Levi’s for a month.”
“Bargain’s a bargain.”
“We’re almost at Robber’s Cave.”
“I’m thinking a quick stop.”
“Outlaws’ll be lurking. Want to put on a show?”
“Bet they’d pass the hat.”
Rafe chuckled, tossing her a steamy glance. “And fill it.”
“One way to make money.”
“Better way. You sing. Nothing more.”
She winked, then threw back her head and sent a peel of laughter across the trail to join the musical gurgle of nearby Fourche Maline Creek. Just as quickly, she turned serious and guided Jipsey close to Justice. “We’re running out of time. We’ve got to get down to business and pick up leads here. No choice.”
“With so many outlaws in one place, we stand the best chance we’ll ever get.”
“So many horses, too.”
“Think some desperado will turn up with Copper?”
“Fingers crossed.” She experienced a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach at the thought of not finding the stallion in time. If some desperado put a bullet in Copper’s head because he limped, she’d never be able to forgive herself. But that wasn’t going to happen. She felt as if all the long trails she’d followed led here, the heart of horse-thief country deep in the Sans Bois Mountains, a place Epona would surely roam.
If Lady’s totems blessed her and gave her strength, she would save Copper and achieve justice. But Spider Grandmother and Epona worked in mysterious ways and in their own time. Lady had to count on herself, not await divine intervention, or she might lose everything.
“Surprising names out here. French trappers?” Rafe asked, glancing around. “That what happened to the Indian names?”
She shrugged. “Guess the French stuck. This was all Wichita and Caddo land, villages and farms in the valleys. Most likely Comanche and Osage hunted game here, too, before the American government forced much of Choctaw Nation to start over in this wilderness. Long before that, Indians who built earth mounds lived here.”
“I heard Fourche Maline Creek translates roughly as Bad River.”
Lady winked. “Want to be bad on Bad River?
He grinned. “What does Sans Bois mean?”
“Without Trees.”
“I wonder what the first Indians named these creeks and mountains.” He gestured at the high peaks rising in the distance.
“Something poetic?”
He glanced back at her, chuckling. “More like Pretty Sparkling Water instead of Cross at Your Own Peril?”
Lady laughed. “I hadn’t thought about names giving warning.”
“Fourche Maline Creek might look a lot more dangerous in a rain storm.”
“True. But it’s beautiful right now.”
“Bet a lot of the outlaws who frequent Robber’s Cave discovered it during the War. Guerrilla fighters from Missouri and Arkansas could’ve used a place like this after raids on Union forces and sympathizers.”
“Sure. But after the War Between the States,” she added, “amnesty was granted to Federal guerrillas, but not to those of the Confederacy.”
“Mistake. Caused more trouble.”
“True. Many of the Partisan Rangers kept fighting. They were condemned anyway, so they robbed banks and trains.”
“You sound sympathetic.”
“A number of outlaws steal only federal, still striking back at the Union.”
“War’s long over now, going on twenty years.”
“Not long enough, not when you consider the wounds. One small example. U.S. General Ewing’s Order Number Eleven. He decided that he could control his section of the country better if nobody lived there, so he burned and depopulated a vast area of western Missouri, mostly farm families. Wagon trains miles in length were seen heading west. Behind them dense columns of smoke rose in every direction. Hundreds of folks crowded the banks of the Missouri River. Steamboat captains saved them.”
“A lot of depredations happened on both sides. Scars make a man, a nation, tougher.”
Lady glanced at Rafe, wanting to see if he understood what she was trying to explain. He might be seeing things a little less black and white than when she’d first met him, but at heart, he was still a by-the-book lawman. “I’m saying some outlaws you hunt are bad men, American criminals hiding out in Indian Territory. You’re right to arrest them. But others are Confederate heroes, or sons of heroes, still engaged in the conflict, taking back what the Union stole and giving it to the needy like they did during the War.”
Rafe snorted. “Excuses! You wouldn’t believe what I’ve heard in my time. No matter the past, if they break federal law, deputy marshals are coming after them.”
Lady sighed. “There’s a big difference, between, say, Zip and Crowdy, but you’d take in both.”
“If they broke federal law, yes, I’d take them to Judge Parker.” He gave her a hard stare. “Crowdy breaks Indian law, then lighthorsemen deal with him.”
She frowned, eyebrows drawing together. “When there’s a bad crime, like murder, lawmen are nowhere to be found.”
“We do the best we can.” He sounded regretful. “But we can’t be everywhere.”
Lady turned a cold shoulder to Rafe and urged Jipsey ahead, feeling tears sting her eyes. She blinked hard, not about to give in to her emotions. No lawman had helped hunt down her parents’ murderers, nor solved the crime. And that included Rafe Morgan. She had to get her head on straight. He was just another no-good lawman, looking to make arrests the easy way so he could collect fees. When she’d seen Rafe’s face on the wanted poster, she’d started thinking of him as being on her side.
Wrong.
Scratch him and he bled the law. She’d been a fool to let her body get in the way of her mind.
Wrong.
Scratch him and he bled the law. She’d been a fool to let her body get in the way of her mind.
“Nobody can say for sure, but we figure Jesse and Frank James and Cole and Jim Younger used this area,” Rafe continued, riding up beside her. “Belle and Sam Starr, too.”
“Cole is in federal prison. Twenty-five years for robbery.” Lady realized Rafe had no idea how upset their conversation had made her.
“Belle and Sam are there, too. Nine-month sentences.”
“First time for them.”
“That’s why Judge Parker went easy on them.”
“I believe there’s a lot more fiction than fact about Belle Starr.”
“She was foolish enough to marry Jim Reed. He rode with Quantrill’s Raiders,” Rafe said.
Lady kept her voice calm and even, her tone reasonable. “William Quantrill was a teacher before he formed a state guard unit of Partisan Rangers to protect people. They battled Union occupation armies and Kansas Jayhawkers. Missouri tried to stay neutral, like Cherokee Nation and Choctaw Nation, but was forced to take sides. Brave men like Quantrill helped save lives.”
“But he took lives to do it.”
He was getting her riled up. “If you invade a place, burn homes, steal food and livestock, murder people, you’ve got to expect folks to take offense and defend themselves. Belle Starr’s family’s home and businesses were burned out. The Youngers and others like them were childhood friends defending their homes and neighbors.”
“Belle married into the Cherokee Starr family. They have a place north of here at Younger’s Bend. Hear she entertains outlaws,” Rafe said.
“Old friends,” she corrected him tartly. “Deputy marshals don’t like Belle Starr because she rides to Fort Smith and helps Indians win in Judge Parker’s court.”
“I don’t dislike the so-called Bandit Queen. If she brings evidence that gets defendants off, I’m okay with it. But she’s associated with outlaws her whole life.”
“Think you can’t love an outlaw? I don’t believe you listened to a word I said. Anyway, Belle Starr has created a fascinating image that gives her power and prestige. And that’s not easy for a woman.”
Rafe glanced at her. “You didn’t model yourself after Belle Starr, did you?”
“Could do worse.”
“You ever met her?”
“No. But I’d like to. I heard she was raised a lady in Missouri and went to college at a female academy. She’s smart. Her mother was a Hatfield related to the feuding Hatfields and McCoys. Her father did well in business. But the War ruined the life she might have led. Still, she hasn’t let that stop her. I heard she had a piano hauled out to Younger’s Bend. Books, too. She must love to read and play music. I saw a recent photograph of her. She has excellent taste in clothes. Horses, too.”
“Good taste, huh? That alone makes her an upstanding citizen.”
“Doesn’t hurt.”
“Maybe she’s been smart enough never to get caught before. Or lucky.”
“Smart and lucky doesn’t always save you.” Lady felt tears sting her eyes again, remembering her parents.
“Lady . . . Sharlot, did I say something to upset you?” Rafe reached out to squeeze her fingers.
She slapped his hand away.
“Look, I understand these people are your friends.”
“Not all of them.”
“Okay. Enough of them help you that you feel loyal. But some are mean as rattlesnakes and prey on the defenseless. My job is to help those who can’t help themselves.”
Lady took a deep breath to keep from turning on him in fury and demanding an answer as to why he hadn’t helped her when her parents were murdered, their home and barn burned, horses stolen. She couldn’t trust him. She must never forget that fact. “Right now, we’re in this together. I was trying to give you a different outlook to help you fit in. Maybe I was wrong.”
“No, you’re right.” He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “I needed to hear what you said.”
“Remember, there are always two sides to a story,” she emphasized, her voice cold, back straight. “People aren’t black, white, or red. They’re gray.”
Lady urged Jipsey ahead, pushing Rafe as far from her mind as she could get him. She had to focus on the business at hand and stay alert for danger. And she had to remember he was her enemy, not her friend or lover.
They rode silently along Fourche Maline Creek, following a trail that wound through a narrow valley caught between outcroppings of sheer rock cliffs, sandy bluffs, and riotous green vegetation. She saw white tents pegged here and there on the narrow valley on the other side of the creek where small herds of horses contentedly chomped grass and basked in the sun. Time was limited. When the horses ate the grass down to its roots, the outlaws would have to move their herds to greener pastures.
She felt an easing of tension in her chest at the sight of so many beautiful animals in a wide range of colors. Buckskin, black, and shades of sorrel. She looked for some sign of Copper, but couldn’t pick him out at a distance. Later, she’d get permission to ride among the herds to search in earnest.
Drinking in the soft air scented by sweet gum, willow, and maple trees along the creek bank, she noticed small caves and rocky trails in the surrounding hills. Hackberry, oak, hickory, and pine trees provided cool shade from the heat of the sun. A squirrel raced to the middle of the trail, stopped, chittered, and shook his tail in anger at the interlopers before scampering up a nearby tree. Lady chuckled, knowing just how the squirrel felt. Songbirds trilled in the treetops, a hunting hawk cried out, and a vulture silently and patiently crouched overhead.
She let nature seep into her soul, comforting and soothing. She hoped the carrion eater watching them from above wasn’t a harbinger of their future, but she’d heard no warning cry in her head from Epona.
About that time, two sorrel horses carrying familiar barrel-chested figures leaped over the Fourche Maline and thundered down the trail.
“Lady!” Bob hollered, plucking his hat off his head and waving it around high in circles.
“Lady Gone Bad!” Burt rode beside his brother, a big grin splitting his face. “You made it! We didn’t think you was comin’ after that fight. And the fire.”
“Dang Hayes Brothers,” Rafe muttered in disgust. “Now we’ll never get rid of them.”
Lady chuckled, feeling her good humor restored at the thought of how much Rafe was going to hate sharing her with other men.
“Hey!” Lady took off her red hat and gave a friendly wave. “Got a good place to camp?”
Chapter 32
“F
ast John,” Burt called, riding up close. “Zip Rankin and his gang got in last night. You gonna fight again?” “Is he looking for trouble?” Rafe asked.
ast John,” Burt called, riding up close. “Zip Rankin and his gang got in last night. You gonna fight again?” “Is he looking for trouble?” Rafe asked.
“Set to hornswoggle the best horses, most like,” Bob said, following his brother.
“Looking for us?” Rafe asked.
“After all that trouble at Boggy Saloon,” Lady added.
The Hayes Brothers glanced at each other, sputtered, and then laughed so hard and loud all the horses shied, dancing across the dirt road as the riders struggled to get them back under control.
“Boggy was bodaciously burnt up—” Burt started to say, but gasped for breath as he heaved with more laughter.
“And tetotaciously exflunctocated so bad ever last b’hoy and g’hal in Indian Territory who wanted in on that fight got here fast for the next.”
Rafe and Lady stared at them in amazement, but as realization dawned, they joined the laughter.
“What you mean,” Rafe said, getting his breath back, “is we made Zip look good so he’s not after our hides.”
“Fight and fire at the Boggy is a legend that’ll dang near outlast us all,” Burt said, continuing to chuckle.
“Tale gets any taller, eagles’ll be nesting in it,” Bob added, shaking his head.
“One thing,” Burt said. “Nobody, and I mean nobody, ain’t never gonna try to make Lady Gone Bad sing when she ain’t got a mind to.”
“Caps the climax!” Bob hollered, grinning from ear to ear.
“So everybody’s square?” Rafe asked, pushing for more information.
“Far as we know,” Burt said, turning serious. “But Zip’s not a man to cross.”
“So we’d better be on our toes around him,” Rafe said.
“Gotta keep an eye on a man that savagerous,” Bob agreed.
“Far as I’m concerned, if he leaves us alone, we leave him alone,” Lady said. “I’m here to sing and find a horse. Nothing more.”
Burt and Bob chuckled, glanced at each other, and then laughed hard all over again, tears twinkling in their eyes.
“That’s what you said the last time,” Burt gasped, tipping his hat to her in respect. “And you know what ensued.”
“Crowdy was tired of the Boggy anyway.” She shrugged, still smiling, and looked up ahead. “You see him around?”
“No,” Burt said, “but that Indian could be standing right next to you and you’d never know it.”
“He’s the beatingest,” Bob agreed.
“Hope he shows up,” Lady said. “We need to make camp. Guess I’ll sing tonight since so many are already here.”
Burt and Bob guffawed again, punching each other in the shoulder.
“Now what’s funny?” Lady asked.
“Bob here bought a ten-gallon hat to pass,” Burt said. “B’hoys’ll feel guilty till they fill it, so you oughta make out like a bandit.”
“Good thing you’re riding with a fast gun so as to keep the money safe.” Bob nodded in Rafe’s direction.
“That hat,” Lady said, winking, “is smart thinking. Thanks.”
Bob ducked his head, skin turning pink at the compliment.
“Got you set up with a tent so you can change and all,” Burt said, not to be outdone.
“Appreciate it.” Lady nodded, smiling. “You two are making this easy for me.”
“Nobody’s gonna mess with you no more,” Bob added.
“Lady’s our big bug here and gets the best we got to offer,” Burt agreed.
“Right friendly of you.” Rafe was getting sick of the brothers’ admiration. He wouldn’t call his feeling jealousy, but it came damn close. He’d had Sharlot’s full attention so far on their journey, and he didn’t like losing it, or sharing her. And he hadn’t even gotten past two men. Wait till she attracted hundreds. When his temper flared, and it was bound to, he’d have to rein it in.
He inhaled sharply, dragging in air to clear his mind. He had to get back on track. He was here to get a lead on Crystabelle and Lampkin. What Sharlot did or didn’t do wasn’t part of his plan. And he wasn’t about to waste an opportunity to scout out Robber’s Cave and memorize outlaw faces.
“The Viking’s here, too.” Bob jerked his head down the road.
“Who’s he?” Rafe asked, surprised he hadn’t heard of the outlaw.
“Story goes he’s a rancher adopted by a Cherokee. He runs cattle and horses north of the Canadian River in Cherokee Nation.” Lady shrugged. “He got that moniker cause he’s big and blond.”
“Brought Angel, he did.” Burt took off his hat, and ran a hand through his hair. “Heard she’s a looker.”
“Hellcat, I heard.” Bob grinned, eyes sparkling. “We’ll finally get a gander at her and decide for ourselves.”
“Who is she?” Lady asked in confusion, looking from brother to brother.
“Heard the Viking bought her with a herd of horses,” Burt said.
“Bought her?” Lady asked in disbelief.
“Probably not true.” Bob sounded disappointed, lowering his head with a hang-dog expression.
“But you could ask her.” Burt brightened, appearing excited at the idea. “G’hal to g’hal.”
“If I meet her I will.” Lady glanced around the group. “And if she wants, we’ll help her escape. Won’t we?”
Burt and Bob grinned, pumped their fists in the air, and then twirled their horses in tight circles of celebration.
“Lady, I’ll follow you anywhere,” Burt said.
“You sure know how to liven things up,” Bob added. “I’m all in.”
“Let’s don’t get ahead of ourselves.” Rafe didn’t want to get involved in some sort of domestic squabble that could land them all in trouble. “We’ll wait to see what the situation is, and then do what needs to be done.”
“For now,” Lady said, “night’s coming on. I need to get to my tent.”
“Let’s go!” Burt hollered, raising his hat, turning, and thundering down the road, Bob hard on his heels.
“Lady’s here,” they hollered. “Lady Gone Bad is coming! See her sing tonight!”
Rafe glanced over at her. Neither moved as the Hayes Brothers disappeared around a bend, their voices echoing through the valley.
“Guess you’re on stage from now on,” he said.
“I’ll give the Hayes a cut of the hat. Having a tent is a lifesaver.”
“They’re sure looking out for you.”
“Rowdy boys, but good at heart.”
“Bet you say that about all the outlaws.”
She raised an eyebrow, giving him a long, smoldering look. “Just the lawmen gone bad.”
“Better be only one and he better be present.”
She pursed her lips, reached over, ran a hand down his shirt to his Levi’s, and gave a quick squeeze.
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