The Encounter (27 page)

              Frank and half a dozen of his friends climbed the mountain road toward the McKenly homestead. They all wore moccasins. One had and Indian bow and a quiver of arrows. His plan was simple. He'd kill everybody, after he'd had his fun, and then burn it to the ground. With the Indians causing trouble it wouldn't be hard to convince everyone in town they'd done it.

              Josh had followed out of sight. He still felt torn between loyalty to his family and the love he felt for Sarah. He had his rifle and as he climbed the mountain, in his heart, his choice became clear. He couldn't let them hurt her. He'd kill his brother if he had to.

                                                        ***

              Lawrence and Joseph rode side by side. They both led a horse.

              Lawrence had no real heart for what they were about to do. "Your sister is right you know... Killing that horse won't change anything."

              Joseph was tired of everyone trying to tell him how to feel and what to do. "That animal killed my father and my best friend."

              "I don't know about your friend, but a rock killed your father... But you're right about one thing. It's an animal. It works on instinct. You hunt him, try to hurt him, he'll fight back. You leave him alone he'll go his own way."

              Joseph didn't want to hear any of this. He eased his horse ahead.

              Lawrence raised his voice. "Would your father want you to do this?"

              Joseph spurred his horse and rode out of earshot.

              Damn it, Lawrence thought, and then decided to back off a little before he wore out his welcome.

                                                        ***

              Sarah kept busy in her spring garden. Getting anything to grow at all in this rocky soil took all the patience she had. She stopped from time to time to watch the hills.

              Margaret used the time to update her journal. She sat on her bed with her legs crossed in front of her. The journal, itself, was a thin input pad, about the size of a standard sheet of paper. There was a screen and a sensor touch keypad. As her fingers moved across the keypad, line after line of her native script scrolled down the screen.

              Frank and his men weren’t in any hurry using the wagon road around the base of the mesa. The rocky road would hide their number and the fact that their horses were shod. Josh left the road for the more direct route across the mesa.

                                                        ***

              Joseph and Lawrence had finally reached the water hole. Joseph tied off the two mares, and then moved off to higher ground down wind of his trap. Lawrence followed him into the rocks still trying to come up with something that would prevent this. He was just about down to hoping the rifle would jam or that the stallion wasn't particularly horny today.

              They topped the ridge overlooking the water hole and rode a ways down the far side. They stopped, dismounted and ground tied the horses. Joseph didn’t want their mounts alerting the stallion. He pulled his rifle from its saddle scabbard and started the climb back to the top. Lawrence watched him for a moment, removed his canteen, and then followed Joseph back up the hill.

                                                        ***

              Margaret had finished her entries, left her room and stepped out back. She stood and watched Sarah in the garden. Her ears picked the sound of horses on the road. She listened for a moment, and then walked quickly toward Sarah.

              Sarah looked up as Margaret approached. She stood and waited for her to get there. Margaret ran the last few yards.

              "What", Sarah asked?

              "Someone's coming".

              Sarah shaded her eyes and looked toward the hills. "Where? I don't see anyone".

              Margaret stopped at the edge of the garden, "the road".

              "Indians?"

              "No. These horses have shoes. Come on back to the house."

              Sarah dropped her hoe and they both ran back to the house.

              Frank stopped on the rise over looking the house.

              The man next to Frank glanced at the corral. "Where do you suppose they got all those Indian ponies?"

              Frank looked. "Who knows? We'll drive 'em across the mesa and shoot a couple in front of the house. Make it look like they put up a fight."

              Frank spurred his horse down the hill. The others followed.

              Margaret and Sarah watched out the window. Frank and his bunch approached the porch.

              "It's Frank Kramer", Sarah said. "I don't see Josh with 'em."

              "What do you suppose they want?"

              "Trouble most likely. I wish Joseph was here."

              Margaret left the window for the door. "You stay inside. I'll see what they want."

              Sarah watched as Margaret opened the door. "Be careful". Sarah then looked at the rifle above the mantle.

              Margaret left the door open and walked toward the steps. Frank and the others reined in their mounts in front of the porch.

              Frank turned in his saddle, looked around, then back to Margaret. "Don't see the boy and that man of yours, they hidin' in the house?" The others laughed.

              "What do you want", Margaret asked in as calm a voice as she could muster?

              Frank grinned and glanced at his men. "What do we want?"

              "A poke", several of them answered.

              Frank looked at Margaret "You know what I think? I think you're alone, you and Sarah. Why don't you call her out here?"

              Margaret had sized up the situation and knew Frank was the key. "Why don't you and your friends just leave before somebody gets hurt?”

              Frank laughed. "I'll give you this, you got spunk. Let's see how much you got when I’m done." Frank looked at the man next to him. "Get the girl outta the house."

              They all dismounted. Margaret backed down the porch to give herself more room and to draw most of them with her. One headed for the door. Frank and the rest followed her.

              "Stop", Frank shouted. "You got nowhere to go."

              She stopped and Frank stepped up to her. He reached out and grabbed at her left breast through her shirt. There was a blast. The man at the door was thrown across the porch. Everybody looked.

That was all the distraction Margaret needed. She grabbed the front of Frank's clothes, jerked him toward her, and then threw him into the other five. Frank and four others went down. The fifth backed away, went for his gun but stopped at the sound of a lever action rifle chambering another round.

              "Drop it, now." Sarah's finger took the slack out of the trigger pull.

              The man glanced around, then let the gun fall. The others scrambled to their feet. Again Frank's rage overrode his judgment. He forgot about his sidearm, went for the knife in his boot and lunged at Margaret.

She grabbed the knife hand with her left, and his throat with her right. She easily crushed his right wrist. He screamed and she lifted him into the air. She held him there a foot off the porch, kicking and gasping for air. The other four backed away staring. One missed the steps and fell from the porch.

              Margaret dropped Frank. He rolled on the porch, his hand grasping at his throat.

She reached down for the knife. "I'm tired of seeing these things." She flung it. Everyone watched it disappear over the barn several hundred feet away. She stepped over Frank toward the others. Everybody backed away. Even Sarah took a step back. "Get these two and get the hell outta here..." Nobody moved. She raised her voice. "Move..."

              "Before you do", Sarah jumped in, "leave the guns."

              Everyone dropped their guns on the porch. They picked up Frank, and the one Sarah shot, and got them on a horse. Everyone else mounted up.

              Margaret stepped up. "Tell anyone else that wants to cause trouble, if they try anything like this again I'll finish this fight."

              Margaret and Sarah stood next to one another and watched them go.

              Sarah looked at Margaret. "You'll finish this fight?"

              "Heard that in a movie once."

              "What's a movie?"

              "Never mind. Let's go out back and pick something for lunch, then I'll give you a little history lesson in reverse."

              Sarah and Margaret turned toward the door. Margaret looked at Sarah. "Stay here. There's another one by the barn."

              "By the..." Sarah started to turn.

              Margaret took her by the arm. "Don't look." They entered the house.

                                                        ***

              Josh's shortcut had gotten him there about the same time Frank rode up to the house. Josh dismounted and took his rifle with him to the corner of the barn. He saw Margaret come out, but he couldn't hear what was being said. He saw most of them go after her and one go toward the door. That one had to be after Sarah. If he let him get inside he couldn't help her. He pulled back the hammer, but before he could fire, Sarah shot the man herself. He swung his rifle toward Frank, hesitated, and then witnessed the rest of what happened. Margaret wouldn't have spotted him if he hadn't jumped when the knife whistled over the barn.

What the hell was going on, he thought. How could a woman, or anybody, do what he'd just seen.

              He decided to approach the house. He backed away from the corner of the building and turned to face Margaret standing behind him. She grabbed the rifle from his hand.

              He took several panicked steps back, lost his footing and sat down hard. "I... I... wasn't with them. I followed them to see if I could help."

              Margaret stepped up to him and reached down with her hand. He hesitated, and then took it. She pulled him to his feet. "Go to the house", she said.

              Josh walked quickly away from her, toward the house. She knew Josh was there to protect Sarah, but shooting your own brother would have been a difficult thing for anyone to do. She tied off his horse and followed him.

                                                        ***

              Joseph sat on the ridge watching the woods beyond the water hole. The two mares grazed at the end of their tethers.

              Lawrence sat a little ways away from him. "You never answered my question", Joseph ignored him, "about whether your father would want you to do this."

              Joseph's head came up at the sign of movement in the trees beyond the water hole. The two mares stomped around and pulled at the ropes. He held up his hand for Lawrence to be quiet. Lawrence began to look, himself.

              The stallion stood just inside the cover of the forest. He saw the mares. He also saw the ropes. That usually meant men, but he couldn't see them or smell them. The rest of his harem began to edge toward the water. He stamped and snorted warning them off. He wanted to look this over a little longer.

              Joseph stretched out and brought the rifle to his shoulder. Lawrence lay down beside him.

              "That's a long shot for a Seventy-three Winchester", Lawrence whispered.

              Joseph looked at him. "If you're gonna keep talkin', go back with the horses".

              Lawrence looked at him, then back to the water hole. There he was. A large, black stallion walked slowly toward the far side of the pond.

              Joseph eased the hammer back and began to sight his target. Every nerve in his body anticipated the hammer fall. He took a deep breath and let it out.

                                                        ***

              The man Sarah shot slumped forward holding onto the neck of his horse. As life left him he slipped to one side and fell to the ground. This loss of life caused a time paradox that filtered back to the present.

                                                        ***

              There was a cracking sound. Lawrence screamed, rolled on his back and grabbed his right thigh.

              Startled, Joseph fired before he wanted to. The bullet grazed the meaty part of the horse's shoulder. He jumped to his feet and tried to chamber another round, but the stallion was gone. "God damn you." He screamed. He looked back at Lawrence and caught his breath.

              The femur in Lawrence's right thigh protruded through his pants. Lawrence grimaced with pain. Blood spread out around the hole in the cloth. Joseph dropped the rifle and knelt beside him. Then, before his eyes, the broken bone receded back into Lawrence's pants and the bleeding stopped.