Revenge and Chameli Gonzales



REVENGE AND CHAMELI GONZALES

Ken Coleman

Copyright 2013 Ken Coleman

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.

CONTENTS

Foreword

Prelude

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

FOREWORD

I met Andrew Hanson in a St Luis hospital where I had found myself after being injured in an automobile accident whilst visiting relatives who had immigrated to America from my homeland of England. The year was nineteen thirty seven and the old man just happened to be in the bed next to mine. He was aged ninety three and was very frail. I told him I was a history student and was interested in the authentic old west especially the period after the American Civil War. That’s when he told me he had a story to tell and wanted to get it on record before he died. I decided to listen to what he had to say out of politeness rather than interest and also, a compunction to humour him.

However, as his tale unfolded, I became enthralled by what he related to me especially as he swore everything he told me was true. So as he continued to tell his story I became more and more determined to get it into print. He told me in blunt, no nonsense terms about his life after the civil war and was completely emotionless about his adventures and the many killings he had committed. I realised then, that if he was telling the truth he was probably, one of the worst of all the cold blooded killers to come out of that period in history. I have to say that many of the people he killed deserved to die. But just as many didn’t. However, he showed no remorse for what he had done and was completely emotionless about the manner in which he had performed many of the killings.

It was only when he spoke of the woman who became part of those adventures that his emotions came to the surface and his voice softened. Her name was Chameli Gonzales and she became a big influence on his life and the direction it took.

I have embellished the story in order to make it less emotionless and more romantic. But apart from that, it is written down, just as he told me. Ken Coleman.

PRELUDE TO THE KILLING

On October fourteenth eighteen sixty one I left the farm where I had been born and raised with the intention of enlisting in the Confederate Army. I was just a boy who, like many of my contemporaries, thought the war would be over in months rather than years. It wasn’t too long before I got a taste of the realities of war and how it came to affect the hundreds of thousands of soldiers, civilians and women and children on both sides. People who lived through probably, the bloodiest and most horrific period to happen on American soil.

From a naive boy when I made my way to enlist I grew quickly into a man who learned from experience that you either killed without question or compunction in order to live. Or hesitated at the almost, certain risk to your own life. Although I was involved in many bloody skirmishes and battles during that four year period, I only mention my involvement in the war to set the scene for what was to follow. For it was the years after the war when I travelled the great plains of the west, taking in the many lawless and wild towns to be found in that part of America, including the state of Missouri, where I grew up; to Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Wyoming, Colorado and Arizona in my quest to avenge the slaying and defiling of my family in the most horrific and violent way I could ever have imagined in my worst nightmares. This story covers a period of many years and besides the hunt for my family’s killers, it tells of the men, women and children who entered my life during that period, none more so than Chameli Gonzales, who to my mind, was crazy and without a doubt the most irritating, hateful, aggravating, troublesome, self-centred, greedy and disturbing person I have ever had the misfortune to meet. Yet, she was also, the most beautiful, endearing and amazing woman ever to have been born to enrich my life and despite my better judgement and against all my instincts for self-preservation, I grew to love her more than life itself

ONE

I saw the smoke rising from where the farm was situated long before I could see the buildings that I had known so well as a boy. I dismounted from my horse and led her into some brush and trees where I stood for a long time watching the smoke rising in the distance. I was naturally, concerned for my family knowing that there were still bands of Jayhawkers raiding across the border from Kansas into Missouri. But I was one man with very little weaponry apart from a cap and ball army issue Remington revolver which I had taken from a Union officer who had no further use for it, a muzzle loading cap lock musket and a knife. Of course and as anyone would, I felt anxious and nervous for the safety of my family, but if I had learned nothing else during the war, using caution had been a lesson that had saved my life on numerous occasions. So I figured, riding up to the farm with gun in hand like a conquering hero could well have had serious consequences for both me and my family. With just five shots in the revolver and one in the musket after which, I would need to reload with powder and balls, I would be of no help to my family or anybody else for that matter. Besides, I had never heard of Jayhawkers killing farmers as long as they put up no resistance and I knew my father had more sense than try to resist. We had had runs in with Jayhawkers before and as long as we pledged our allegiances to the anti-slavery cause and furnished them with supplies, they generally left us alone. Even so, the smoke I could see rising worried me. It was more than a normal fire used to burn old timber or trash; I could even smell the charred wood from where I stood.

I waited for around half an hour before finally deciding to make my move when I began circling the farm keeping it within around a half mile of my position and approaching from the East where I was able to find concealment in a stand of trees about three hundred yards or so away. Moving into the shelter of the trees, I viewed the farm from my vantage point astride my horse. There was no movement around the place, but the house where I had been raised had been burned to the ground and was little more than smoking ashes.

I pulled my gun from the union army issue holster that I had taken from the same soldier as my pistol. I had cut away the holster flap so that I could pull the gun easily without it snagging. I cocked it with my thumb and spurred the horse forward at a walk holding the pistol at my side ready to use if necessary.

The worst experience for my family, would have been that they had been burned out and left with nothing. In which case, I expected that I would find them wondering around what was left of the farm trying to salvage what possessions had been left to them by the Jayhawkers. I was not though, in my worst nightmares prepared to find them dead in the manner to which they had been killed. I was not prepared to find them slaughtered, brutalised and made to endure the worse kind of pain and degradation that inhuman beings could impose on gentle people. All the killing and horrors of war that I had witnessed these past four years could never have prepared me for the revulsion that began to build up in me when I saw what had happened to my pa and ma and then the rage that reached such a boiling point as to burst my mind wide open when I saw the inhuman torture they had imposed upon my twelve year old sister.

I will not apologise for describing some of the details about the manner in which they had been slaughtered. I need you to understand what drove me to hunt down and murder in the cruellest and most painful way, the vermin that had committed such a vile and despicable act upon my family. However, what I do describe in the following chapter doesn’t come close to what was really inflicted upon those poor innocent family members. I have omitted to go in to the more intimate details of what I found on the farm that terrible day as they are totally unnecessary and should be left to the imagination.

I dismounted from my horse and approached my pa first for no other reason than he was the nearest dead body to me. I found him spread eagled and lashed to the big five bar gate that was the entrance to the farm. He had been stripped down to his undergarments and as though to add to his degradation, his socks had been stuffed into his mouth. But his real torment began when whoever had done this, had lashed him to that gate and the shooting had begun, for all his toes and fingers had been shot off as had parts of his hands and feet as though he had been used for target practice. I guess he must have suffered greatly and for a long time as his fingers and feet were slowly shot to ribbons before the perpetrators finally and mercifully, cut his throat and spared him any more suffering.

I cannot really recall how I felt looking at him hanging there except that ludicrously and despite his horrific injuries, I was struck by how much thinner he appeared than I remembered and he looked smaller and older. He was almost, unrecognisable as my father. Not only because of the blood that obscured his features somewhat, but because time had clouded my memories of what he had looked like and to be brutally honest, he was just a stranger. Blood from his throat had flowed down his chest and onto his undershirt. His feet and hands looked like bloody ribbons. But apart from a simmering anger that I felt building up in me, I felt very little compassion. No sense of loss, no thoughts of revenge or justice for him. My only emotion was sadness and anger that someone could do this to a man who just wanted to work his farm and provide for his family. We had never been close Pa and I and I had left under a cloud. But he was my Pa and didn’t deserve to die the way he had.

I cut him down and left him lying in front of the gate with just my horse to watch over him while I climbed over the fence and jumped down into the vegetable patch which my mother had always tended so lovingly in the past. At times, I had known her to spend hours looking after her vegetables and although it was good to have fresh produce on the table, I sometimes I thought she gave them more attention than she did her own kids. When pa and I and little Lise came home from our toiling, she would be there kneeling amongst the vegetables, a wisp of hair hanging over her eye, pulling out weeds and digging in fertilizer. Sometimes, she even failed to acknowledge us and it was often left to my little sister to rustle up a meal. Ma hardly spoke during the final couple of years I spent on the farm. She had retreated into her own little world and it almost seemed that she resented us for the life she was forced to live. She and my pa had met in St Louis. He had emigrated from Denmark to seek a better life while she had lived in a fine house on the outskirts of St Louis. Her father was some kind of industrialist and very rich. He had wanted his daughter to go to England and mix with the gentry there. My mother never gave much away about how and why she came to end up toiling on a farm in the middle of Missouri instead of living the high life in Europe. I do know that her and my Pa came up the Missouri river on a paddle steamer to find and cultivate land for farming. She never spoke about her father. I often asked her about my grandpa in St Louis and if we would ever get to meet him, but she would simply change the subject and give me a chore to busy myself with. Much earlier in my childhood, she had been really happy and always had time for me. She taught me how to read and write from an early age and made a far better job of it than any school could have. She had brought books with her from her home in St Louis and read to me constantly. She had loved the Charles Dickens stories and had many of his books. Then after Lise was born, she seemed to shrink into her own little world just doing what was necessary to bring up her youngest child and barely speaking to my pa or me except to answer questions with a curt reply. Because of the way she had changed there came a change in my father also. He spent as much time away from her as was possible, becoming sullen and angry whenever he had been in her presence. Consequently, little Lise and me were left to bear the brunt of his anger so that by the time I decided to leave, it had become an unhappy place with the only brightness shining on the farm being Lise and her forever smiling face.

I found her not far from where I had jumped down from the fence. She was lying face up amongst the turnips and at first I thought it was a bloody side of beef because there was nothing to distinguish her as a human being. The only way I recognized the bloodied object initially, as my ma was because of the small amount of straw coloured hair that wasn’t matted in blood, protruding from her bloody head.

I stared at her with my mind numb. It was difficult to associate what lay before me with a human being, let alone the woman who had given birth to me. But even despite recognizing her, I could not bring myself to feel any kind of emotion. No sorrow, no anger and no pity. Nothing seemed real and try as I might, to remember how she had been in the early years when this had been a happy place, I simply could not. The memories of what had been had long since been erased from my mind by the horrors of war. I tried to get angry; after all, this was my mother the woman who had raised me and cared for me, at least in the early years. The only anger I felt was directed at the senselessness of what had happened here. Why harm harmless people who were no more a threat than a fly on a wall?

When I finally focused my mind and took in the horror before me, I saw that a knife or knives, had been used on her to such an extent as to leave her looking like something one would find hanging in an abattoir. There would be no useful purpose gained by going into detail about her injuries. Suffice to say, that parts of her anatomy had been sliced off and she had been cut deeply in a most intimate place, probably whilst she was still alive judging by the way the turnips and the ground all around had been disturbed by a great struggle. I guessed it must have taken more than one person to hold her still while they did that. I quickly, turned my head away and felt a sharp, pang of remorse for the way I had left the farm four years ago without even saying goodbye to her. Apart from that however, I felt nothing more, no tears, no grief and no thoughts of revenge. All that came later when I discovered what they had done to my little sister.

She had been just eight years old when I left and if there was anyone I would miss, it was going to be my little sister Lise. She was the sweetest, honest and most selfless kid anyone could meet. Even my pa, a stern no nonsense man, couldn’t help but have his heart melted in her presence. She would do anything for anybody and I often thought my ma took advantage of her willingness to do anything asked of her. Often carrying heavy buckets of water from the creek nearly a quarter mile away when the well, as often happened, ran dry. Or she could often be found, milking our bad tempered cow and making butter or cheese for our table. Even chopping logs with an axe that was nearly as big as she was didn’t deter her from willingly taking on the hardest of tasks. Hard work indeed, for a child so small. But she did all that and more and the smile never left her lovely little face. I had known when I left that my share of the farm work would fall on her small shoulders on top of what she already did around the place. I knew also, that she would bear the extra load without a murmur of complaint and happily carry on as normal. But still, off I went leaving tiny Lise to her toils with my conscience clear and not a thought of how such a small child would cope trying to do the work of an almost, grown man. I should have had at least, a small feeling of guilt but I didn’t. That would come later on my return to the farm and my discovery of what had happened to the poor, wonderful child.

About three yards away from where my mother lay was another bloody patch of disturbed vegetables and earth where someone had obviously put up a struggle. Leading away from it was a wide trail of bloody and flattened vegetable stalks and earth as though someone had crawled on their belly to get away from the horror of what was happening to my ma.

It was then that I began to feel emotion. I felt myself trembling inside and all kinds of thoughts crossed my mind. Surely nobody, even the varmints that had done that to my ma, would harm a child, especially one as sweet and gentle as Lise.

I knew I had to follow the trail; I had to look for my sister and find out if she was ok. But for the first time in my life I was terrified of what I would find. I had always faced problems head on and worked them out for myself, usually with a gun or a cudgel of some sort and on occasions, a knife. I have faced death many times whilst riding with Quantrill and Bloody Bill Anderson, but the thought of finding sweet little Lise in the same condition as I had found my ma, filled me with dread.

I breathed deeply and cleared my mind. The war had taught me many ways to survive and many ways to cope with trauma. One of them was to face trouble with a clear mind and focus on what you were about to face. Therefore, I forced my trembling legs to move and follow the bloody trail to its conclusion. If Lise was alive and I was optimistic that she would be, we would run the farm between us and build on what my ma and pa had begun. I didn’t even want to think of the alternative.

I followed the trail slowly and deliberately whilst noting that all around, the vegetables had been trampled by many hoofs and I figured that there had been at least four horses. The trail of smeared blood went on through the trampled vegetables and hoof prints, disappearing round the barn about twenty yards away. I still had the cocked, pistol in my hand and I raised it as I approached the corner of the barn and slowly inched my way as silently as I could until I stood with my back to the wall of the barn close to the corner around which the trail of blood had disappeared. I listened for many minutes, but no sound came from around the corner. I didn’t believe that the Jayhawkers were still here, but I wasn’t a man who would walk into trouble without weighing up the possibilities first. Therefore, I inched towards the corner of the barn and peered round with my gun raised and ready for action. I didn’t look to the ground at first, but instead surveyed the area all around for signs of ambush. I noticed that the fence had been torn down across from the barn leaving a wide gap. Hoof prints were everywhere and carried on across and through the gap in the fence. It would seem that that was where the Jayhawkers had left the farm and ridden away.

Turning my attention to the ground, I saw no sign of Lise. The milling horses had all but obliterated any sign of where she had presumably, crawled. I broke cover, no longer feeling there was any danger from the Jayhawkers and walked around heading for the front of the barn looking for signs of my sister. She was nowhere in the open and I felt a bit more optimistic that she had managed to escape and find some kind of cover. The barn door was open wide, which was unusual because that was where we stored the produce we harvested before moving much of it to the great river to be carried down to St Louis, and fruit which we carted to Kansas City where we would also buy supplies to last us until the next shipment. If Lise was badly injured she would not have been able to open the big heavy barn door, therefore, the Jayhawkers had opened it. In my mind’s eye I pictured little Lise, hurt, unable to walk and crawling to escape her tormenters while they followed her progress on horseback. I could not imagine the kind of inhuman and evil mind that would even think of tormenting a mere child that way. I approached the door slowly, not because I felt I was in any danger, but because I feared what I was going to find. I even considered turning round, mounting my horse and getting the hell out of there, I simply preferred not knowing what had happened to the poor child. Then I thought what if she is still alive and needs help? I couldn’t leave knowing I could have saved her.

The area inside the barn doorway was hard packed dirt and the first thing I noticed as I got close, were the many hoof prints going into and out of, the barn. I also noticed smears of blood and my heart began to feel heavy. It was thumping so hard I thought it would break out of my chest and I would die right there, perhaps that wouldn’t have been a bad thing considering the feelings of dread that had entered my mind.

I entered the barn on feet that were leaden and legs that would barely hold my weight. Never in my whole life had I felt such trepidation. Even before a battle where I knew I could die at any time had such nervousness and worry overwhelmed me to such an extent.

A broad shaft of light pushed back the shadows and lit up the barn floor capturing the small still body of the child lying face down in the dirt. The fact that she was naked was almost concealed by the amount of blood and gore that covered her small broken body and I stifled a sob when I saw that a large knife with a bloodied handle had been violently plunged into one of her buttocks as though, after all she had suffered, the perpetrators felt the need to add one final act of degradation. I reveal the detail about the knife because it is important and pertinent to my story. One of her legs was pulled up to her chest as though she had made an attempt to crawl further and then given up, while the other, the one with the knife in her buttock, was stretched out straight behind her covered in blood. I didn’t even want to imagine what else they had done to her, I simply wanted to turn and run in the hope that I could erase what I was seeing from my mind. Yet I knew from that moment I would be compelled to live with the horror that was my sister’s tiny mangled body lying in the dirt of the barn floor. I turned with the intention of leaving her there where she lay. I just could not face getting any closer and having to look upon what other causes of pain they may have inflicted upon the poor child. Until, almost inaudibly, I thought I heard a sound like a cat mewing and my heart beat just a little bit faster when I realised it was coming from Lise. Consequently, I turned back and hurried to her side calling her name as I crouched in the dirt close to her small form.

‘Lise,’ I whispered. ‘It’s me Andrew.’

She moaned and I took her small hand in mine compelling another sound to come from her as she painfully, turned her head to face me.

‘Andy,’ she gasped almost inaudibly, but it sounded like ‘Ahgy, for her mouth had been disfigured and was full of blood.

I lowered my head and looked at her once beautifully angelic face and I wanted to cry. I did cry, I felt huge tears rolling down my battle scarred face and I began to sob very loudly. Her face was covered in bites and just like my mother, a knife had been used to great effect on her once pretty face. As I looked at her, she tried to smile, but what was once the brightest smile in the whole of the west, was now a bloody mask of horror. Nearly all her teeth had gone and her gums and mouth were a bloody mess. She was still my beautiful little Lise though; so I kissed her gently on her mouth and as I did so, I felt her die in my arms. She simply slumped as her small broken body went limp and in that moment, it seemed to me that she had known I was on my way home and she had been hanging on to see me one last time before finally, going to sleep. I am not a religious man, but just in case there was a god, I thanked him right there and then for taking her and ending her suffering. Then in the same breath, I cursed him for a cruel and heartless god that he would allow a child so small and harmless to endure the amount of pain and torment as had been inflicted upon my innocent and sinless sister, Lise.

I didn’t bury my family, preferring to leave them just as I had found them. I figured as they were dead anyway they wouldn’t really care one way or another. Besides, I wanted to be on my way before their killers got too much of a head start on me. I did however, cover Lise’s tiny form with a tarpaulin sheet I found nearby and held it down with rocks from what was left of the farm building. I couldn’t leave her like that in full view, not my sweet little Lise. I headed the way the four horsemen had gone with the only plan that filled my aching head, being a determination to find them and murder them all. But before I killed them, my intention was to make them suffer the way Lise had suffered at their evil hands. Only after I had inflicted the worse possible torture I could dream up, would I end it with a slow and painful death for each one of them. The rage in me had subsided after Lise died to be replaced by a cold determination to see those men suffer more than my little sister had. This would not be made easy due to the fact that they knew I would be coming after them because they had planned it that way and I had finally come to realise it was my fault that my family had been slaughtered.

I now knew who one of them was and I had a pretty good idea who the other three were. It had been made obvious to me that they were not Jayhawkers because before I left Lise lying in the barn I had pulled the knife from her backside and although the handle and blade were bloodied, I naturally wiped them clean. Only then did I recognise the distasteful and abhorrent truth of why my family had been slain, because once I had cleaned it, I recognised the knife and knew by the initials carved in the wooden handle, to whom it had belonged. I knew also, why it had been left buried in my sister and why they had done what they had done to my family. The knife had been left as a message to me and had probably been plunged into Lise after the men had finished with her. Everything they had done to my family was purely and simply because of me and the reason was revenge.

TWO

Missouri and Kansas had been warring into each other’s territories long before the attack on Fort Sumter that triggered the American civil war. The Jayhawkers from, mainly, anti-slavery Kansas made regular raids into Missouri causing many farmers and landowners near the border to set up their own raiding parties into Kansas, they were known as the Bushwhackers.

In September, 1861 a bunch of Jayhawkers attacked and captured the City of Independence Missouri. They murdered many of its citizens, some so I heard, were women and children. This news didn’t particularly bother me, but my pa had been outraged at such wanton and unnecessary killing and plundering. He had previously, always been neutral in the cross border war being that his allegiances lay with neither the North nor the South. I believe though, that my mother had always had anti-slavery views and sympathised with North. Now however, after the raid on Independence, pa had vowed to support the confederacy in any way he could in the escalating war. This was all the excuse I needed to get away. I announced that I was going to join the confederate army and seek to avenge the people of Independence. Pa was furious at my insensitive decision to leave the farm during such troubled times. But after a blazing row with him and much hand wringing and crying from my ma, I set off on foot for Springfield Missouri where I hoped they were recruiting. Before I left, Lise came running to me and jumped up into my arms where I held her tight, hugging her tiny, frail body for many minutes.

‘You will write to me won’t you Andy?’ she begged. ‘I want to know all about soldiering and the war and all the places you visit.’

Lise, just like me, only saw the glory in being a soldier. None of us could have foreseen the four years of horror, the maiming and the bloodshed with limbs blown off, men blinded and families left fatherless and homeless in a hopeless war that was far less than glorious.

‘Sure I will Lizzy,’ I replied using the name I had always used to address her.

She wrapped her arms tighter around me and buried her face in my neck.

‘I don’t want you to go Andy,’ she whispered. ‘I might never see you again.’

‘Sure you’ll see me again silly, in a few months’ time when the south have won the war, I’ll be back just to see you and you know what?’

‘What?’ she giggled.

‘We are going to get on a boat and sail down the great river all the way to St Louis, just you and me.’

‘Aww you joshing me Andy, how could we afford to do that?’

‘When I come home from the war I will be rich you’ll see and I’m gonna give you all the things you deserve for all the hard work you do around here.’

That was when my pa came striding up to us.

‘Put that child down boy and get offa my land,’ he hollered. ‘You are trespassing and if you don’t leave I will take a switch to you and beat the hell outa your sorry ass.’

I kissed Lise on her cheek and lowered her to the ground. She looked up and smiled sadly. When she did that, I felt as though I was looking into the face of an angel unbeknown to me at the time, it was to be the last time I would ever see her angel face looking that way.

‘Ok pa,’ I said mildly. ‘I’m going, but there is no need for it to be this way.’

‘Don’t you call me pa; I no longer have a son. You are a stranger and you are trespassing on my land.’

He had stopped just a couple of feet away and I saw that I was taller than he, something I had never noticed before. However, he was bigger and broader than me. I was little more than a boy who at seventeen, was still growing and had not as yet, bulked out. I looked past him and saw my ma standing in the doorway to the homestead where I had been raised from an early age. Although quite a way from my position, I could see she had been crying, but strangely, I felt no remorse and wondered briefly, if I actually had a heart. That was until I looked down at Lise’s angelic face and knew I had a heart because it began to melt. I knew then, that if I didn’t leave quickly, I would be compelled because of her, to stay. Only now do I realise the enormity of my decision to leave that lovely child. For if I had stayed, Lise would not have suffered at the hands of James Wesley Singer and his friends. Because he and I never would have met and I wouldn’t have killed his brother. But the death of his brother Henry at my hands, was the sole reason James Singer, did what he did to my family.

I slung a gunny sack containing all my, meagre, possessions over my shoulder and headed for Springfield Missouri where I knew there would be a company of Confederate soldiers. I had no trouble finding the way there because I had driven there many times with our big wagon pulled by the only horse we owned, to get supplies. It would take me a day and a half to walk to Springfield so I needed to be sparing with the canteen of water and the few biscuits and cheese that Lise had secretly slipped me.

I had travelled about eight or nine miles when I saw horsemen approaching in the distance and I began to get an uneasy feeling inside. There looked to be around a dozen or so of them and my first thought was, “Jayhawkers.” I was on the road to Springfield and in open prairie land, so there was little cover apart from the odd bush and small tree. So I decided to hold my ground and try to talk myself out of any danger or malice they might hold towards me. I carried on walking until, when they were almost upon me, I stood to one side to allow the horsemen to pass. I hoped they would see that I clearly, posed no threat and would carry on by to go about their business with no interference from me. They were 13 in number and all were heavily armed with pistols, muskets and knives. They were accompanied by several spare horses and heavily burdened, pack mules. The company of men stopped a few feet from me and each one of them studied me with interest. I noticed that more than a couple of them wore articles of confederate clothing, pants here, a tunic there or a hat. These men were not Jayhawkers that was plain to see. However, I decided that I needed to use discretion and be cautious in my actions.

One of them urged his horse forward until it was standing close and the man was looking down into my upturned face. He was obviously the leader of the band; he commanded respect simply by his bearing and superior demeanour. The other horsemen looked formidable and dangerous. But this man, though normal in appearance, had a way about him that demanded that people recognize his superiority over them. He was a leader and seemed to be so confident in his abilities, that I was sure that the men with him would gladly follow him into hell if he asked them.

‘Where are you headed boy?’ he asked in a mild and almost gentle voice.

‘Springfield sir,’ I replied. There was no point in lying, the trail I was on led directly to Springfield and anyway, his very demeanour compelled me to tell the truth.

‘What is your business in Springfield?’

I hesitated, if these men were Jayhawkers and if I told them I was going to join the Confederacy, I would be in deep trouble. However, they seemed to be returning from Springfield, so it was unlikely that they would be Jayhawkers, especially as some of them were wearing articles of Confederate uniforms. It was more than likely they were Bushwhackers, in which case they would be pro confederacy. I decided though, despite the odds, to tough it out.

‘Sir,’ I said, with all the bravado and authority I could muster. ‘My business in Springfield is my business and mine alone.’

A few of the men in the group laughed, others merely smiled. The leader of the group simply looked down at me expressionless.

‘Your business is indeed your business,’ he replied in that same mild voice which carried so well despite the sound of milling hooves, the creaking of leather and snickering of horses. ‘However,’ He continued. ‘These are troubled times with many desperate men abroad. Missouri is a state where allegiances lie in two directions and it behoves me to enquire of you regarding your allegiances.’

I hesitated, before answering.

‘Well sir,’ I replied earnestly. ‘Perhaps allegiances do lie in two directions, so it would be in my own interest to enquire as to your own sympathies.’

The horsemen were all eying me with greater interest now. Some were grinning, whilst others were looking on with apparent fascination, or maybe, expectation. Perhaps, they were expecting the leader to draw his pistol and shoot me between the eyes for my insolence. Many men in Missouri during the border wars had been killed for less, women and boys too, truth be known. So it was, that with baited breath, I awaited his response.

He smiled what appeared to be a friendly smile, but I wasn’t fooled. This man was the leader of a bunch of heavily armed and dangerous men and he had their respect. What would they think of him if he allowed a seventeen year old kid, still wet behind the ears, to get away with disrespect?

‘I asked first,’ was his response to the sound of uproarious laughter from his men.

I grinned, partly with relief that the tension had been taken out of the situation, as I looked up into his smiling face.

‘In that case sir, I will answer your question. I am going to Springfield with determination to join the Confederate forces in the hope that I may strike a blow against the North.’

‘Right answer son,’ he said with a broad grin spreading across his face. ‘I too intend to strike a blow against the north, so it would appear that we are allies.’

‘Yes sir it does and I wish you well in your endeavour. Now, by your leave, I will be on my way as I wish to make Springfield by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.’

I turned and set off the way I had been heading, walking stiff backed as I felt the eyes of every man in the group watching me. I listened keenly for the sound of them riding away, but the sound of hooves never came. Instead, a commanding voice rang out.

‘Wait!’

I stopped stiff backed and turned very slowly to face him. Then I waited nervously, to hear what he had to say.

‘It’s a long walk to Springfield son; I can sell you a horse if you’ve a mind to give your legs some respite.’

I smiled wryly.

‘That would be a preferable option sir, but I have very little by way of possessions and no money at all.’

‘Then how do you propose to get by when you get to Springfield?’

‘Once I join the army, I will be fed and watered and supplied with weapons and a horse and my army pay will allow me to buy anything else I need.’

There were loud guffaws and general laughter from the assembled group. The leader simply sat his horse and looked at me expressionlessly, whilst I in turn could feel my face reddening, partly with anger and partly with the feeling that I was being ridiculed.

‘You are setting your sights high son,’ he said mildly. ‘It is true the confederacy is recruiting, but volunteers are expected to supply their own horses and weaponry, unless you are recruited into an infantry division, in which case you will be expected to march on foot. Even then you would be expected to supply your own amenities. Therefore, I think you will be turned away until you can fulfil that obligation.’

I stared at him unsure if he was holding me to ridicule or simply telling it as it was.

‘However,’ he continued. ‘I am raising an army and I am recruiting suitable men. How are you at horsemanship and shooting?’

‘I can ride and shoot as good as any man,’ I lied. I could ride a horse, but apart from shooting a few squirrels and an occasional wild turkey, I had no idea about shooting, especially at another man.

‘Then you may join us if you’ve a mind.’

There was some muttering and sounds of dissent from his men, but he stared at them one by one and they quickly capitulated.

‘It would be an honour to join you sir,’ I said, though with a feeling of some trepidation.

His name was William Clarke Quantrill and for the next two years I rode with him and his army. I learned how to shoot and become an excellent horseman. Above all, I learned how to kill and during those turbulent years, I killed and maimed many men, boys and quite possibly, even women but only because there were so many chaotic raids where indiscriminate gunfire was normal. I felt no remorse for the killings. Many of them were acts of revenge. The raid on Lawrence Kansas, was a direct response to the despicable act by the authorities, of imprisoning womenfolk and from what we heard, deliberately causing their makeshift prison to collapse upon them, killing four innocent women.

After Lawrence, most of the, over four hundred strong army led by Quantrill, many of them farmers, returned home where, in acts of retaliation, many were shot and killed and their homes burned down leaving their women and children homeless. At that time, I worried about my own family, but felt there would be little I could do the way things were because we became fugitives and I fled to and remained in Texas for a while with Quantrill’s army. It was during our time in Texas, that Quantrill’s band of guerrillas began to break up and we formed into small groups to go our separate ways. I joined up with Bill Anderson, who was also known as, Bloody Bill Anderson. We returned to Missouri as a small army and made many raids on Union soldiers and Union supporters. It was after the raid on Centralia Missouri, that I had my run in with Jim Singer and his brother.

Everybody was in high spirits and the whiskey had been flowing freely, but as usual, I kept myself to myself. I wasn’t really a drinking man, preferring an occasional beer to the throat searing rot gut that was available at the time and passed as whiskey. I had always kept a low profile and used many aliases during my time with Anderson. That way I could blend into the background and not become a name that people knew well. Leaders like Quantrill and Bill Anderson were wanted men and sooner or later they would be hunted down and either captured or killed. I was just a follower and although I had done my share of killing, I was unknown outside the bands of men I rode with, which suited me just fine. There were other men in Quantrill and Anderson’s gangs who would become just as famous or infamous as they were. Men like Frank and Jessie James and the Younger brothers, who would later, because of circumstances of the time, find themselves beyond the law and wanted men.

Jim Singer had his own little bunch of close cohorts including his brother, Henry, Frank Davey, Chad Blackthorn and One eye Billy Reason. All five of them enjoyed killing, they killed for the fun of it with Billy Reason, often scalping their victims or cutting off limbs usually while they were still alive while I on the other hand, killed because it was something that needed to be done, we were at war after all. But I got no satisfaction out of it. I treated it as a job to be done and considered myself a soldier killing the enemy. The fact that many of the people I killed were civilians, even women and possibly children, was under the circumstances, merely unfortunate. They were enemies of the south and would have been just as happy to have seen me killed.

The fact that I openly disapproved of Singer and his friends didn’t go unnoticed and they took every opportunity to voice their dislike of my attitude towards them. However, I had become a man who commanded respect and no one in the group would normally, dare to openly challenge me. Sadly though, whiskey can make a man do things he might normally think twice about sober.

So it came to pass that as I sat alone drinking a beer, Henry Singer approached me. He was a big man and good with his fists or a knife in close combat and it was said, that he had been known to kill men with his bare hands, so I naturally, became wary as he approached, but I was damned if I would give him the satisfaction of seeing that I was concerned by his presence, so I carried on looking ahead and sipping my beer. Maybe that was a mistake because he was a man who wasn’t used to being ignored and excessive booze made him even more dangerous than he normally was.

He stopped close by swaying slightly with a half empty whisky bottle in his hand. I continued to sip my beer and look ahead. I did not like him, never had and I was damned if I would allow him to intimidate me.

He bent his head until his face was inches from mine.

‘Mr Hansen,’ he said, loud enough for many in the vicinity to hear. ‘Have a drink with me for good old time’s sake.’

‘I haven’t had any good old times with you Mr Singer and I don’t intend to,’ I replied mildly. ‘So if you don’t mind, I will pass up on your offer.’

He remained standing close, swaying slightly with the bottle gripped in his hand and I could tell his slow and befuddled brain was processing what I had said. Eventually, the veiled insult seemed to dawn on him.

‘You high and mighty bastard,’ he growled. ’You think you’re too good for the likes me and mine. You think ‘cos you are good with a gun and can read and write them fancy words, you are better than me. Well let me tell you boy, I could tear your fucking head off with one hand and in my book that makes me better than you.’

‘You forgot the foul breath.’

‘What?’

‘You don’t need your bare hands; your breath is enough to knock a man out.’

By this time, we had drawn the attention of the other men in the vicinity, including his brother Jim and his three cohorts who were never very far from his side.

I could see by the way he was moving his slobbering lips that he was working out the implications of what I had said; such was the slowness of his brain. But when the insult finally dawned on him, he was swift to act. He was quicker than I had anticipated considering the whisky he had devoured. He grabbed the front of my shirt, lifting me easily, to my feet and pulled my face close to his purposely breathing his foul and whisky fumed breath into my face. Then just as quickly he let me go when he felt the barrel of my gun prodding him in his ample belly and he stepped back a pace, he had the sense to realise how dangerous I too could be. He looked down at the Remington in my hand; he had seen me in action with my favourite gun on many occasions and knew I could handle it with great dexterity. He wasn’t a man to back down and lose face however, and he tried a different tack knowing the assembled group was expecting something to happen and when it did, he intended to come out on top.

‘You think you are the cock turkey with a gun in your hand, but I figure you ain’t so big when you have to face a man with your fists Hansen,’ he snarled.

‘You never spoke a truer word Mr Singer,’ I replied. ‘But this gun puts me in charge and puts you in a bad position. You can back down and lose face or you can attack me and get gut shot, which as you know, is very painful.’

‘Leave it Henry’, his brother yelled. ‘There’ll be another chance to give him what he has comin, we just have to bide our time.’

‘Better listen to your brother Henry,’ I advised softly. ‘You could come to some serious harm if you pursue this.’

He stood still staring at me for a long time. I could see he was weighing up the odds and his slow mind was in conflict with his brain. Suddenly, he came to a decision.

‘You are just as good with a knife as you are with a gun Hansen,’ he growled. ‘Let’s even it up and do this thing with knives.’

I had no intension of relinquishing the upper hand to him, even though I fancied my chances with a knife and being smaller and quicker than him, I thought I could probably take him. However, I wasn’t stupid and having the upper hand, I intended to keep it. The decision though, was suddenly taken out of my hands. His brother called my name and tossed his own knife handle first to me. My reflexes had become lightning fast and I caught it with my other hand, my gun hand never wavered with the gun cocked and pointing at Henry’s gut. I took a quick look down at the knife, noticing the JWS of Jim Singer’s initials carved in the handle. At the same time, Henry lunged at me with his own knife. I side stepped and struck him on the side of his head with my gun. It was enough to send him sprawling past me, but not enough to stop him. He came to his feet incredibly quickly for such a big man. He must have been, either, recklessly stupid, or thought I had decided to fight him with knives. He could not have been more wrong. For when, with a roar of anger he lunged at me again with the knife aimed at my gut, I shot him through the temple killing him instantly. He reminded me of a shot buffalo the way he went down. He just dropped to his knees, held there for a second, then tumbled slowly onto his side and laid still.

Of the whole group, I was quickest to react. I turned and trained the gun on Jim Singer. I figured he would be the most dangerous seeing as how I had just killed his brother. He was staring at the body in disbelief; everyone in the room was, apart from me. I figured that, being dead he was no longer a threat. However, his still alive and more intelligent, brother was. So I waited with the gun pointing at him. So shortly, when he slowly turned his head away from the body of his brother and looked at me, he had murder in his eyes and his mouth was working as though he was trying to speak, but no words would come. When he did finally manage to speak, what he said was so blindingly obvious as to be funny if it hadn’t been so serious.

‘You shot him,’

‘Yes I did Jim and if you don’t want to go the same way you will not take any action at this time.’

‘You bastard!’ he yelled. ‘You have murdered my brother, he didn’t stand a chance against a gun, but you fucking well shot him anyway.’

‘Well, I will give you credit for observation Jim,’ I said wryly.

‘You smart bastard,’ he yelled taking a step towards me.

I pulled back the hammer of the Remington, cocking it and quickly raising my arm so that the muzzle of the gun was just inches from his temple. He stopped dead, glaring at me with intense hate in his eyes. He knew I would shoot him dead with no more compunction than I had felt at shooting his brother.

‘I think you should remove any weaponry you have on your person Jim,’ I said firmly. ‘That goes for your three sidekicks, I have enough shots left to kill all four of you and you will be the first to go if anybody fancies their chances.’

He continued to glare at me but made no move to comply.

I took a step towards him and pressed the muzzle of my pistol hard against his temple.

‘Remove your weapons Jim,’ I repeated. ‘Unless you want to join your brother in hell.’

He pulled two pistols from his belt and dropped them to the floor, glaring at me the whole time.

‘I am going to get revenge on you for what you did,’ He said quietly through gritted teeth. ‘If it’s the last thing I do I am going to make you pay boy.’

One eye Billy, who was standing by his side giggled maniacally.

‘Yeah boy,’ he said shrilly between giggles. ‘We gonna gut yuh and scalp yuh while you still alive, then cut y’up into little bits and feed yuh to the vultures.’

‘Then maybe it would be in my interest to kill you now Billy,’ I growled. ‘Save me the trouble of doing it later. One thing’s for sure, you ain’t gonna get revenge if you dead. So you better shuck your weapons too Billy. You too Frank and you Chad. Billy’s face turned serious as the manic grin faded from his face. The other two stood motionless waiting to see what Billy would do. He was insane I was sure of that, but he was intelligent enough to know when he was at a disadvantage. They all dropped a variety of weapons onto the floor. Each man there knew me well enough to know, I wouldn’t hesitate to shoot them all down and be done with them, I just needed an excuse and they didn’t plan on giving me one. I contemplated shooting them dead anyway, it would save me a problem later for I had no doubt they would try to make good on their promise of revenge.

The matter was suddenly taken out of my hands when Bill Anderson walked in.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ He demanded. ‘I hope you boy’s aint fighting amongst yourselves.’

He stopped and looked down at Henry Singer’s body. Then he looked at me with a gun in my fist pointing at Jim Singer and his friends, but before I could speak, Jim piped up.

‘He killed Henry in cold blood Bill, didn’t give him a chance, now he is planning on killing us just because we tried to stop him.’

Anderson looked at me and I prepared myself to swing the gun onto him. There was no telling what he would do. He was a great leader, but one of the deadliest killers to come out of the war and although he had always been fair with me, I wasn’t going to take a chance.

‘Is that true Andrew?’ He asked.

‘Yup,’ I answered. ‘I shot him in the head as you can plainly see.’

‘Well,’ said Anderson. ‘I have no doubt that you wouldn’t gun down a man without just provocation son. He always was a troublemaker and not much use as a soldier. Jim take your brother and your three buddies and get the hell outa here.’

Singer looked at him with his mouth wide open, clearly unable to believe what he was hearing. Then he attempted to speak.

‘Wha?’ Was all that he managed to say.

‘You and your brother have been picking fights with my men ever since you joined us,’ Anderson said. ‘Now I want you out of my hair all four of you, five if you include Henry. I suggest you get the hell out of Missouri all together, because if I come across you again, I will have you shot down like dogs. Now pick up your weapons and empty the chambers and my men will escort you away from here for a few miles.’

There was a big cheer from most of the men in the room. It would appear that the Singers and their friend were no more popular with the rest of the company, than they were with me. Many of the assembled men drew their guns as Jim Singer and his men picked up their weapons and emptied the chambers of ball and powder. Then, with Frank Davey and Chad Blackthorn struggling with the body of Henry Singer, several of the men herded them outside to their horses.

Just before he went through the door, Jim Singer turned and glared at me.

‘This aint over Hansen,’ he growled.

I smiled. ‘No, I don’t believe it is and I look forward to finishing it. By the way, this belongs to you.’

I still held his knife and I threw it end over end intending for it to stick in the floor in front of his feet. But it skidded along the floor and pierced his boot. He skipped back and winced, before bending and retrieving the knife. When he straightened up he pointed the knife at me, and then made a motion with it in front of his neck as though slicing his throat. The threat didn’t bother me and I deliberately turned my back on him as he and his men were ushered through the door to their horses.

That same knife was used to inflict terrible torture on Lise and I regretted every day since I found her lying there with it sticking out of her, that I didn’t shoot and kill Jim Singer and his bunch of vermin when I had the chance. He made good his promise that he would get revenge on me for killing his brother. By doing what he did, he found a way to hurt me far more than I could possibly have imagined. A way to make me live with the guilt that it was indirectly, my fault that Lise died the way she did.

No matter what I did to Jim Singer and his friends or how many ways I could find to inflict as much suffering as possible upon them, torturing and killing them would not bring Lise back and knowing her the way I had, she would not have condoned it anyway forgiving child that she was. But I wasn’t her, I didn’t have the same forgiving nature. Retribution was what I sought and by god, it would make me feel better when I killed those vermin in the worst possible manner I could think of and I intended to get great satisfaction when I did it.

A few weeks after my run in with Jim Singer, Anderson was killed when we were ambushed by Union soldiers. I and many others escaped and for the next few months I rode with different bands of border ruffians and Bushwhackers. We robbed and pillaged union sympathisers, often killing anybody who put up resistance. But I never rode with the same bunch more than twice and I used different aliases so that I wouldn’t get a reputation.

When the war ended in eighteen sixty five, I had amassed a small fortune in gold and jewellery which I had stashed in various hiding places in parts of Missouri and Kansas. That is when I decided to go home and help my family. I had money and plenty of hidden treasure that I could fall back on in times of need and with it I would be able to help build the farm up to a good size and maybe hire somebody to help out.

There was still plenty of hatred in Missouri from both sets of sympathisers, so much so that many farms belonging to southern sympathisers had been burnt and the men folk killed leaving women and children homeless. On the other side, gangs of bushwhackers like the ones I joined up with did the same and worse to Union sympathisers. So I figured I would wait until the atrocities and warring between neighbours died down before I kept my promise to Lise to take her down river to St. Louis. That had been before I discovered her lying broken and defiled in the barn. I never would get to keep my promise and that hurt almost as much as seeing her die.

THREE

I followed the sign as far as the road to Sedalia and figured that that was where they were headed. I guessed they had no more than a day to a day and half start on me, but I had the advantage that they wouldn’t know when I would be coming after them. They had no way of knowing when, or even if, I would be returning to the farm. I figured Singer would bank on me finding out sooner or later what had happened and when I was eventually shown the knife, I would know who had done it and why. But as far as he knew, it could be months or even years before I discovered what he had done to my family.

I rode into Sedalia cautiously, even though my appearance had changed considerably since my run in with Henry Singer and his brother. I had grown a moustache and beard since then and I wore more refined clothing which had the effect of elevating me above farm boy or even farmer and I openly sported a gun, which a man only did in those days if he was capable of using it. Even so, I needed to be discreet when seeking out my quarry. In Missouri just after the war, people were highly suspicious of strangers asking questions. Many farmers and landowners who had once been friends and neighbours had become deadly enemies because of the war and the atrocities inflicted by both sides.

The first thing I did was find a livery for my horse. I had learned whilst riding with Quantrill the importance of caring for your horse even above your own wellbeing. A travelling man needed his horse or horses to be in good condition if he didn’t want to find himself stranded and afoot in unsuitable terrain and miles from anywhere.

My next objective was finding somewhere to eat and I was directed to a house on the outskirts of town that was run by a woman whose husband had died at the hands of Bushwhackers. Naturally, I never told her that I might have been one of the very Bushwhackers that had killed her husband. She opened her door to hungry travellers and fed them for a small price since during those troubled times, it was the only way she knew how to survive. The food was excellent and I cleared my plate and complimented her for having provided me with the best meal I had eaten in years.

She was a very attractive German woman who I figured to be quite a few years older than me, probably in her early thirties. But her looks and bearing, made her the object of attention from the other diners in her converted living room. After I paid her my compliment on her food, she smiled at me and asked if I would like more coffee.

‘That would be most acceptable,’ I answered. ‘I do not believe I would be able to move from your table for a while having devoured and enjoyed such a delicious and filling meal.’

I noticed her face flushed a little as I spoke and it made her even more attractive. Then she smiled brightly, perhaps pleased with the compliment and when she did that she looked positively radiant.

‘If you enjoyed the meal as much as you say,’ she said softly, ‘perhaps you will spread the word; I need all the guests I can get.’

‘I will be moving on in the morning,’ I replied. ‘Otherwise I would happily spread the word to any stranger that doesn’t already know about your delicious food. I am surprised,’ I continued. ‘That the whole township isn’t lining up at your door to get a taste of what you serve up here.’

She flushed again and with a hint of a smile, hurried away to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a pot of steaming hot coffee.

She stood close by my chair as she poured the coffee and I could sense the womanliness about her as she stood unnecessarily close with her ample hip touching my arm. I looked up into her attractive face and she treated me to a coy smile before she quickly looked back at my full mug as she finished pouring my coffee.

I cleared my throat with a small cough before I spoke up again.

‘Perhaps you could direct me to a hotel in town,’ I enquired mildly. ‘I just need a room for one night before continuing on my journey.’

She didn’t speak for a few moments, and then took a step away from my chair.

‘I know of a place where you could stay the night in a comfortable room and with a good hearty breakfast at no extra cost.’

‘Maam, that sounds ideal, would you give me directions?’

‘It is here sir. I have two rooms for rent and although one is already taken, the other is vacant if you wish to take it for the night.’

‘Well, if your breakfast is as delicious and filling as your dinner, how could I possibly turn down your offer?’

‘Thank you sir,’ she replied and a small giggle escaped her lips. ‘Would you like me to show you your room now?’

‘Thank you Maam, but I have to walk back to town to get my things from the livery. I may be a while as I have to make a few enquiries at a couple of business establishments.’

‘Am I to assume?’ She said with a smile. ‘That the business establishments in question, would be saloons?’

I grinned ‘Do I sense a note of disapproval maam?’

She blushed and her face coloured a deep red.

‘Please forgive me sir,’ she stammered. ‘I was just being flippant, I have absolutely no problem with drinking in moderation and it was unforgivable of me to presume upon, what is entirely your own business.’

I chuckled at her discomfort, though I found it very endearing, especially with her slight German accent.

‘Think nothing of it maam, I too was being flippant and I don’t have a problem with you enquiring after my business here. My name is Andrew Hanson by the way and you have my extreme gratitude for offering me lodgings for the night.’

‘Thank you for your frankness Mr Hanson, I am Gerda Williamson and I am a widow having lost my husband to the border ruffians that roamed this state before, during and after the war.’

‘You have my deepest sympathy Mrs Williamson, we live in troubled times and no one is completely without guilt during the atrocities that have befallen this land.’

‘You are kind with your words sir, but I no longer mourn my husband. There was no love between us during the few years we were together and if I am to be honest, it was a marriage of convenience. We simply relied on each other.’

She left it at that and I didn’t expand on the matter.

‘Then I will settle my bill for that delicious dinner Mrs Williamson and stroll it off on the way to town. I will be back early so that I need not disturb you should you be sleeping.’

‘Take as long as you like Mr Hanson, I never retire early and besides, my other guest usually returns from town quite late and often the worse for wear. As for settling your bill, I can add it to the room rental and you can settle it come morning after breakfast.’

‘You are very trusting Mrs Williamson considering we were complete strangers just a few minutes ago.’

She appraised me, with her eyes looking into mine for longer than I thought necessary and I sensed an attraction, before she replied.

‘I believe I can trust you Mr Hanson, I am usually a good judge of character and please, as we are no longer strangers, call me Gerda.’

‘Then I will bid you good day Gerda, I will see you later this evening and I would deem it an honour if you call me by my given name, Andrew.’

I walked the quarter mile or so into town and entered the first saloon I saw. It was a small room with just a few tables scattered around and even fewer customers.

I quickly surveyed the room as I strode to the bar and noticed there were five men besides the barkeep present. Three were playing cards at a table against a far wall, one was sitting alone contemplating an almost, empty whiskey glass and the other one was standing at the bar talking to the barkeep who broke off the conversation when I approached and leaned my elbows on the bar. He walked along his side of the bar to stand opposite me with a friendly smile on his face.

‘What can I get you?’ he enquired pleasantly.

‘I’ll have a beer.’

He turned and siphoned a glass of warm beer from a barrel on a stand at the back of the bar and placed it on the counter in front of me.

‘If you are having another,’ he said jovially. ‘You can settle up with me when you have finished drinking.’

‘The people in this town are very trusting,’ I said with a grin.

‘Not entirely true,’ he replied. ‘But you look like a man who wouldn’t lower his standards just to get out of paying for a couple of beers.’

‘Well put and you are right, I have more important things on my mind and the cost of a couple of beers don’t even come close.’

He grinned.

‘Maybe you can help me,’ I continued.

‘I doubt it; you are a complete stranger to me. But go ahead and ask.’

‘Do you get many strangers passing through?’

‘Not as many as we would like.’ He gestured with an arm sweeping it in a wide arc. ‘As you can see, we are not exactly overrun with customers. But it is busier in the centre of town.’

‘I take your point,’ I conceded. ‘So I suppose you would remember if you saw four heavily armed strangers in town?’

‘Four you say and heavily armed?’ He was immediately on his guard and looked at me suspiciously, his eyes falling to the gun on my hip. ‘That many heavily armed men are usually up to no good and if you are planning on joining them that will make a formidable force.’

‘The men I am looking for are not my friends. It is true I know them but my intentions towards them are entirely hostile, there is bad blood between them and me and I doubt if there’s a bunch of varmints in the whole of Missouri more evil than they.’

‘Then it would surely be in your interests to turn around and go in the opposite direction to which they are headed Mister.’

The advice came from the man who stood at the bar just a few feet away.

‘Sorry for butting in on your conversation,’ he continued. ‘But I think I saw the men you are seeking and from what I saw, your odds are about as good as Jack high against a full house.’

I ignored his comment about my chances.

‘What did the fellows you saw look like?’ I asked a little too eagerly.

‘They were in the saloon down the street where the railway men usually drink. The one, who looked like their leader, was a big guy with a long scar on his cheek and he wore two guns in shoulder holsters, but apart from the guns, he was dressed in smart duds like you. Two of the other three were dressed similarly, tall, young and clean shaven. I would say most women would consider them good looking.’

My heart sank. I didn’t recall Jim Singer having a scar on his cheek and the other three had all sported moustaches and beards. Their ages were not easy to define, but I always considered them much older than me. They certainly as I recall, were not the type to dress in smart city clothes. They rarely even washed when they rode with Anderson.

‘Was there a fourth man with them?’ I asked hopefully.

‘Yes there was and he was the one that spooked me the most. He had just one good eye and kept staring at guys as though daring them to say something. I could see that anybody he looked at would quickly look away. He seemed crazy to me, he was grinning and muttering to himself all the time.’

‘Was he wearing a patch over his bad eye?’

‘No, it was left uncovered as if he was proud of it. It was just a hole where the socket should be and it was red and scarred as though somebody had gouged out his eye.’

‘Somebody did and they lost their scalp because of it.’

He and the barkeep both eyed me intently and I could tell they were trying to figure out what kind of man would risk his life in pursuit of four dangerous ruffians. I in turn, felt elation that I was close to confronting them. However, I am not a reckless man and I had no intention of taking them on wholesale. In fact I intended to go out of my way not to confront any of them head on. I was more than capable of back shooting all of them without any feelings of guilt. But killing them was not my intention, at least not until they were ready to die, not until they were begging me to kill them.

I looked at the man who had spoken. He had moved along the bar to stand close by and he had brought his empty glass with him and was eying me intently.

‘Can I get you a drink Mr ........?’

‘Pardo,’ he replied. ‘Tully Pardo, I’ll have a beer and thankee.’

Whilst the barkeep took Tully’s glass and turned to fill it, I enquired further about the men he had seen.

‘Are those fellows still in town Tully?’ I asked hopefully.

‘No sir, they aint. They left in a hurry last night after spending a few hours in the brothel on Main Street. I heard they cut and beat two girls pretty bad and got the hell out before them whore’s were discovered. I heard they left them tied to the bed one on top of t’other with their mouths stuffed with their undergarments. Their injuries were so bad, so I heard that they will never be able to work again.’

I felt little sympathy for the whores. My main concern was with the disappointment of having missed Singer. However, it was no real surprise that they had left. For like me, they never wanted to stay in one place for long, my reasoning for that however, had been that I did not want my face to become too familiar. They on the other hand, had far more sinister reasons to keep on the move. Just like the situation in the brothel, they got their pleasure from inflicting pain and cruelty on people and I knew without a doubt that robbery and killing should also be added to their list of crimes.

I finished my beer and paid the barkeep.

‘Just one more thing Tully,’ I said. ‘Do you know which way they were headed?’

‘I do as a matter of fact, but you seem like a decent young feller and I cannot see you standing any sort of chance against them. Whatever it is they have done, it aint worth your life.’

‘What they did Mr Pardo, is rob me of my family including my twelve year old sister. Whatever it is they did to those whores, is nothing compared to what they did to my mother and sister I have known them vermin for many years, rode with them many times, so I know exactly what kind of low down cockroaches they are. I intend to make each one of them suffer tenfold the pain and horror that they inflicted on my family. Now I will thank you if you will give me the information I seek.’

I had spoken quietly and deliberately without raising my voice as was my way. But what I said had the desired effect, for Tully stepped back a pace as though the intenseness and menace I had injected into my voice struck fear into his heart.

‘I beg your pardon sir,’ he stammered. ‘But believe me when I say, I only have your welfare at heart. I saw those fellows at close hand and feel nothing less than a posse of heavily armed men would be capable of taking them down.’

‘I understand your concern Mr Pardo. What you see before you is one man with a pistol on his hip and nobody to back me up. But let me assure you, I am no reckless fool who will confront them all head on. I intend to take them out one at a time, even two if it cannot be avoided. I am more than capable of doing that. However, as you know, there is more than one way to skin a cat and I intend to use my knowledge of them and my guile to exact the utmost revenge on each of those vermin for what they did to my family.’

‘Then I will tell you sir and pray that you are successful in your endeavours to rid this land of those varmints. The men you seek headed northwest towards the Missouri river. I would guess that their destination is Kansas City.’

After retrieving my saddle bags and musket from the safe keeping of the livery man, I walked back to the widow’s house. It was early evening and just beginning to get dark as I knocked on her door before entering the kitchen. I removed my hat and called out her name before knocking and opening the door to her small, neat parlour.

‘I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in,’ I said as I looked across the room to where she was sitting in a chair reading a book.

She looked up and smiled and I noted again how attractive she was.

‘Not at all Mr Hanson,’ she answered brightly. ‘As far as I am concerned this is your home, for one night at least. I must say though, I didn’t expect you back so early.’

‘I hope I am not imposing upon your solitude Mrs Williamson, I can retire to bed now if you would prefer to be alone.’

‘Sir, I welcome the company if you have a mind to sit a while. It does get lonely in the evenings since my husband died. The only conversation I usually have is with my diners during the daylight hours. Would you like some tea or coffee?’

I had removed my hat as I entered the room and so placed it on my knee as I sat on a chair opposite her

‘Tea would be a very pleasant change Maam. It is many years since I have tasted it and from what I remember, the taste is very mild and pleasant compared to coffee.’

‘It is indeed Mr Hanson and I must say I much prefer the taste to coffee.’

She rose from her seat and made her way to the kitchen passing unnecessarily close to me and I could smell a perfume that she had not worn earlier. The smell was beautiful and sensuous and added to her allure.

During the short time she was gone, I took the time to glance at the open book she had left on her chair and noted that it was written in German, her native tongue.

She returned shortly carrying a tray with a teapot and cups and a bowl of sugar which she placed on a small table close by before pouring the weak amber coloured liquid into the cups and asked if I would like sugar, which I declined. She handed me a small china cup on a saucer and sat down opposite me with her own tea.

‘Are you visiting our town on business Mr Hanson?’ She enquired.

‘You could say I’m here on personal business Maam.’

She blushed, and looked down at her hands.

‘Forgive me sir, I didn’t mean to pry I was merely conversing and it is of no consequence.’

‘Neither, did I mean to make you feel uncomfortable Mrs Williamson. I was simply stating a fact that my business here is of a personal nature in that I am looking for someone I know.’

She looked up from under her lashes and smiled shyly.

‘Please call me Gerda Mr Hanson, as I said earlier, I feel we are passing friends rather than passing strangers and there is no need to be formal.’

I took a sip from my tea cup before answering and when I did I grinned at her impudently.

‘I feel honoured to be your friend Gerda and though I will not be here for long, it behoves me to ask you to call upon me to favour you in any way I can. For there may come a time when I will pass this way again and stay longer.’ I smiled as I looked into her blue eyes before reminding her to, ‘please call me Andrew.’

I hoped I wasn’t being a little too forward in what I had said and that she hadn’t felt insulted by the obvious double entendre. However, she looked at me from under her long lashes once more and smiled coyly. There was little doubt in my mind that this lady was flirting with me as much as I with her and it gave me a good feeling. The only intimate connections I had previously had with women, had been with prostitutes and the occasional farm girl.

‘Why Andrew,’ she giggled. ‘Are you asking me to allow you to call on me in a more personal capacity in the future?’

It was my turn to feel discomfort and I squirmed visibly.

‘Well of course Maam, if I am passing this way in the future I will be honoured to call on you.’

She giggled again.

‘I am teasing you sir, I feel it is very unlikely that you will pass this way in the near future if at all. You certainly do not seem to be the kind of man who is ready to settle down yet.’

‘The fact of the matter is Gerda; my business will probably take me a long way from here and will very likely, take a long time to complete.’

‘Of course and I understand what you say. Also it was not my intention to make you feel as though you need to explain your reasons for being gone from here. It is apparent that you and I are, in all probability, destined to never cross paths again and that is fine by me. Suffice to say, I am pleased that we met and briefly became friends.’

‘You are clearly a lady with a practical and realistic attitude and if circumstances were different; one I would by your leave of course, like to get to know better.’

‘You are very gallant Mr Hanson and obviously educated to a good standard compared to many men I have come across.’

‘Thank you Gerda, I was taught by my mother, a woman who came from good stock and was herself well educated in many subjects.’

The conversation cooled to small talk and after an hour or so, I stood and looked down at her upturned face.

‘Thank you for the tea Gerda and your hospitality. If you don’t mind, I would like to retire to my room now; I have a long journey to undertake come morning.’

‘I will show you to your room Andrew and thank you for briefly, keeping me company. I took it upon myself to move your belongings, such as they are, to your room.’

‘Thank you Maam, I appreciate that.’

The room was small and neat with clean sheets covered by a single blanket on the bed beside which, was a small cabinet topped by a jug of water and a glass. Against one wall beneath a mirror, was a small table atop which was large earthenware wash basin with a large pitcher of water beside it. A clean white towel hung from a hook protruding from the edge of the table top. Gerda had showed me to the room carrying a lamp, which she now placed on the cabinet beside the bed. Then she retreated to the open doorway and stood aside as I entered the room.

If you would like me to boil hot water for you to wash and shave in the morning, please let me know, I will be preparing breakfast at six o clock. I hope you have a comfortable night Andrew and if there is nothing else you need, I will bid you goodnight.’

She hesitated in the doorway waiting for me to reply.

‘You are very kind Gerda, but do I detect a little coldness in your voice?’

‘Of course not it is just that there is little else to say, but I will say that I genuinely enjoyed your company this evening brief though it was.’

With that she turned and gently pulled the door shut behind her. I stood still for a moment listening to the sound of her small footsteps on the wooden floor as she walked away from my room.

Though it was still early, I felt weary and welcomed the comfortable bed as I slipped beneath the blanketed sheet and rested my head on the soft pillow. For most of the time since I had left home, I had rarely slept in a bed. Often, along with the men I rode with, sleeping in the open on rain soaked ground and unable to even make a fire for fear of giving our position away to the enemy. So sleeping in a comfortable bed such as this was a rare luxury for me. However, because I had so much on my mind, I found sleep hard to come by. I hadn’t formulated a plan for when I met with Jim Singer and his fellow vermin and my mind kept going over what I wanted to do to them and the manner to which I would carry out my revenge. I knew where they were likely to be headed so I was in no hurry. I just needed to stay within striking distance and bide my time. Sooner or later they would become separated, either accidently or deliberately. When they did, I would seize my chance and take out whoever became isolated from the others.

After a long time lying awake, I finally began to drift off to sleep only to be brought back to awareness by a small knock on the door just before it was silently opened. I was suddenly alert but not unduly alarmed. I could see her silhouetted in the doorway and I sat up quietly deeply aware of her presence and the faint smell of her cologne.

I watched, as silhouetted by the moonlight streaming in the window, she walked silently to the bed and stood looking down. I saw that she wore a flimsy garment; probably a night dress and I could see by the way it touched her body, that she was naked underneath. I reached over to take her small soft hand in mine and pulled her down onto the bed. She came to me easily and silently and our lips brushed each other’s gently before she slipped beneath the blanket and became enveloped in my arms.

Sometime in the night she slipped away whilst I was asleep and I awoke the next morning alone. Daylight was filling the room from the window that overlooked her small vegetable garden. I retrieved my watch from my coat pocket and saw that it was seven fifteen A.M. I dressed and poured water into the basin then washed and shaved in cold water.

Before leaving the room, I placed five greenback dollars under the water pitcher a lot of money in those days. I hoped she would see it as a gift from a friend and not for favours she had bestowed during the night. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I looked upon her as a common whore.

The dining room was busier than I expected with every one of the half dozen tables occupied. I allowed my gaze to survey the room and settled on Tully Pardo who was sitting alone and beckoning wildly for me to join him. I shook his outstretched hand and joined him at a table by the far wall placing my saddlebags and musket beside my chair and close to the wall.

‘I’m glad I saw you before you left, Mr Hanson,’ he said. ‘One of them whores that was violated by them fellers you are lookin’ fer, died during the night. The Sherriff is getting a posse together this morning to hunt ‘em down and bring them to justice. Thought you might want to join in and make your job easier.’

‘Thanks for the information Tully,’ I answered. ‘I might just tag along, when do they propose to leave?’

‘They are sending word to some of the closer farms and any rail men who are available, so I would think it will be an hour or more.’

I didn’t believe any posse would take Jim Singer or any of his gang alive if at all. I had fought alongside them before against almost, impossible odds whilst riding with Anderson and they always came through unscathed. In fact the greater the odds against them, the more ferociously they fought. However, I felt it would be to my advantage to ride with the posse if only to keep warm the trail should the Singer group escape. The odds against the posse even catching up to them before they crossed the state line into Kansas was great, so I guessed it was just a token gesture by the county Sherriff.

Gerda approached the table and placed a jug of coffee and two mugs on it.

‘Good morning Mr Hanson,’ she said officiously. ‘I trust you slept well.’

‘Good morning to you Mrs Williamson, yes I slept very well thank you.’

She kept her eyes averted as she spoke and I decided that she preferred to not even think about the night before. She was as cold and subdued this morning as she had been hot and wild in my bed, the night before.

‘Breakfast will be a couple of minutes,’ she said. ‘I hope ham eggs and beans will be to your taste.’

‘Sounds good to me Maam,’ I replied.

‘It sure is good,’ piped in Tully. ‘Gerda serves the best meals around these parts and this place is no longer a well-kept secret as you can see.’ He swept his arm in an arc to impress upon me the fully occupied tables.

I grinned at him and looked up at her but she kept her eyes averted, preferring to smile brightly at Tully as thanks for his compliment before heading back to the kitchen.

Her breakfast was as good a meal as I have ever eaten, cooked to perfection with thick slices of homemade bread on the side. We ate in silence savouring every delicious mouthful and when we had cleaned our plates we both sat back and belched loudly. Then we finished the jug of coffee between us.

I had furtively watched Gerda as she attended tables, she was very efficient and hardworking and coped admirably considering she was doing almost, every job including, cooking, serving and clearing tables. However, Tully mentioned that an old woman did the washing up during busy times.

We paid our bills and said our goodbyes to Gerda, at which time she barely looked at me as though I were a complete stranger and the passion and fire she had shown in my bed the night before, had never happened.

Tully and I strode away from her house and headed for town, I glanced back once to see her standing in the doorway watching us. Then I faced forward and strode on with the small, wiry, middle aged man by my side.

FOUR

I retrieved my horse from the livery and joined up with the posse as did Tully Pardo. There were thirteen armed men including a very good scout whose ability to follow sign over any kind of terrain was uncanny. He found where they had left the road and gone overland, but always heading northwest in the direction of Kansas. We found where they had camped and lit a fire. But there were no warm embers, suggesting that they had left many hours before we discovered their camp. At nightfall, we stopped and made camp and I became a little uneasy about making a fire, even suggesting we maintain a cold camp. The Sherriff dismissed my concerns, pointing out that we had a large group of heavily armed men who were the hunters not the hunted. Not wanting to give away my history of riding with Quantrill and Anderson and also, very often being the quarry, we would often turn the tables on the hunters by ambushing them when they were feeling secure and acting complacent because of their superior numbers; I simply shrugged and walked away.

Two large fires were lit with two groups of men huddled round them as the night temperature dropped. I sought out Tully and suggested he come with me away from the fires where we wouldn’t be sitting targets. But just like the Sherriff, he dismissed my argument as unnecessary uneasiness. Nevertheless, I had learned caution as a valuable lesson and after pouring myself a mug of coffee, I moved about a hundred yards away and settled down amongst a pile of rocks on the edge of a wooded area. In between the rocks and another rocky area, was a small expanse of grass where I picketed my horse out of sight from anybody, approaching my position.

I settled down with my back against a smooth rock with my blanket covering me and pulled up to my chin. I had my slicker covering my blanket as a precaution against the weather. I had heard distant thunder earlier and prepared for a storm heading this way.

I sat staring into the dark for a long time. Last night I had managed to put the death of my family out of my mind with the help of Gerda. Now the whole gruesome discovery was coming back to me. Especially little Lise, my little angel sister who had been no threat to anybody and I couldn’t dismiss from my mind that what had happened to her was my fault and began to go over the, if only I had done this, or if only I hadn’t done that, kind of thinking. It all went over and over in my mind until I thought I would go crazy. I tried turning my thoughts to Gerda. Maybe I should turn back and give up my hunt for Singer and his gang. Sooner or later they would be killed violently or hung and I considered that if I did not settle down, so would I. I had no idea what love was, having never experienced it apart from brotherly love for my sister. Gerda was a good looking woman and I could do worse. She had her own house and I had money and valuables, even though I had not come by them honestly. Maybe I could experience love eventually, but even without love it could be good. She was wild and unpredictable in bed unlike any woman I had ever known. Yet this morning she acted as though I were a stranger and nothing had happened at all. I turned my mind to the more pleasant thoughts of settling down with Gerda and having kids, maybe starting a business like opening a store or something, I felt I could do worse and the idea appealed to me.

Eventually I must have slept because I was suddenly brought to awareness by the sound of gunshots, a whole battery of them with much shouting and screaming. I sat still listening but I had no intention of joining in the fight. I decided I had been right and Singer had doubled back in the dead of night and ambushed the posse. It would have been like shooting fish in a barrel the way they all lay round in the glow of the fires. Either the posse would overcome with their superior numbers or Singer would leave the Sherriff’s men badly depleted and demoralised. My bet was on Singer, I had seen this ploy countless times and the odds always favoured the ambusher and not the ambushed. I would bide my time and do some ambushing of my own when the time was right and the odds were in my favour.

There was a lull in the shooting and voice I knew called out.

‘Hey Sherriff, we got you surrounded on four sides, you got nowhere to go. You’re all pinned down what’s left of you.’

It was Singer and I felt the hate rising up like a fever, but I held my position.

‘Throw down your guns and you can ride away from here with your dead’ he continued.

‘Hey Sherriff,’ it was Chad Blackthorn. ‘How many we killed? Don’t the rest of you want to get back to your missus and young uns?’

Then the shrill maniacal voice of Billy Reason piped up.

‘We’ll send em your scalps fer them to remember you by Sherriff, you won’t be needin them if you daid.’

I could just imagine him giggling crazily and dancing a jig as he called out his vile message.

After that there was a period of silence, then a voice that I was sure belonged to Tully Pardo, called out.

‘Don’t shoot, there’s just five of us left and we throwin down our guns and comin out. The Sherriff’s down and I think you done fer him.’

From a hundred yards away, I couldn’t hear the sound of what remained of the posse standing up and surrendering, but knowing Singer and his group like I did, I feared that it was the wrong course of action. Better to have concealed themselves in the shadows away from the fires and waited it out. He, Singer wouldn’t be so reckless as to come out into the open not knowing exactly what he faced. He would eventually, have taken the posse’s horses and rode away.

Singer called out again.

‘Throw some kindling on them fires so we can see you clearly and then drag the bodies close to the fires so we can see them as well.’

Another period of silence but this time it lasted for a long time. I sat silently in my hiding place a long way from the camp sensibly unwilling to get involved. I could only wait and guess what was happening, with the remaining posse members out in the open illuminated by the fires that they themselves had fed to provide light. Then Singer’s voice again.

‘Is that all of you old boys?’

‘Yes sir it is and a couple of us are badly wounded.’

‘What’s your name Mr?’

‘Tully Pardo sir, I’m shot and in need of medical treatment.’

‘Don’t worry Mr Pardo,’ came the reply. ‘You are about to get all the treatment you need.’

Then the shooting started again, punctuated by cries and screams and I could see in my mind’s eye, those wretched, unarmed fellows including Tully, being gunned down without a chance.

When the shooting stopped, I waited for the sounds of horses hooves going away to the north of me. But I was startled and suddenly alert to the sound of something approaching from the direction of the camp. I pulled my firearm and readied myself for action and before long, figure emerged from the brush. I could just make him out in the dark, hunched over and staggering with an ungainly posture. As he neared my position, I could see that he was badly hurt and frightened, whimpering and wheezing as he approached. He stumbled and fell, then struggled to his feet to resume his tortuous journey. Then I heard another sound and one that gave me a feeling of both consternation and elation in equal measures. Billy Reason was close on the heels of the wounded man. He was giggling and aiming kicks at the guy’s ass as he struggled to get away from his crazy tormenter. I watched the pair pass by my position and disappear into the woods. Then I heard a voice call out from the campsite.

‘Be sure to bring his scalp back Billy, we gonna add it to the others and send them back to town all hangin from a horse saddle.’

In the woods Billy whooped and giggled loudly.

I ran to my horse and removed my rope from the pommel. This was too good a chance to pass up. Billy was isolated from his pals and I intended to take advantage of it.

With my rope and musket in my hand, I headed for the trees following in the footsteps of the two men. I suddenly froze as a scream of agony came from the wood just a few yards in front of me. Billy was doing his thing. I had been sickened by his cruelty in the past and it seemed nothing had changed. I knew Billy would make the torture last and that was to my advantage, because Singer knew it too and wouldn’t become alarmed at his, Billy’s continued absence.

I followed the sounds of the crying and occasional agonised screams, walking slowly and placing each footstep down carefully so as not to step on a dead twig, even though the sounds of torture would shield any sounds I made.

The huddled shape came into view suddenly. I could just make it out in the dark, a solid form between the trees moving deliberately over another shape on the ground from which came the whimpering and screams.

I approached in complete silence turning my musket to grip it by the barrel, I wanted Billy alive. However, he must have sensed my approach because he turned and began to rise just as I swung the musket at his head. Instead, the butt caught him squarely on the side of his neck and he went down gasping for air and flaying his legs around in the dirt. I quickly stepped close and brought the butt of the rifle down hard on his temple and he stopped moving. I saw that close by was a fallen tree, just what I needed for my purpose. Placing the noose of my lariat round Billy’s neck, I took the rope and dragged his still body over to the fallen tree. Then I lifted his shoulders and arms and slumped him face up over the tree. I pulled his neck down with the noose and wrapped it twice round the tree, giving him just enough slack to be able to breathe before spreading his arms and lashing them down along the length of the tree just like Jesus on the cross. He was just beginning to come round when I finished. Satisfied with my work, I went back to check on the man on the ground. Dawn was approaching and I knew Singer would soon be impatient to be away before it became fully light. The man was alive but in a bad way. Both his arms were at an impossible angle, obviously broken at the elbows making it easier for Billy to work on him. His head was a bloody mess where his hair was hanging away; I guess I had caught Billy half way through scalping him. He had been worked on with a knife and his face was a mess as were his eyes. He, also, looked as though he had been gut shot and it was only a matter of time before he was dead.

‘Sorry it had to be you Tully,’ I said quietly.

Tully moved his head as though in recognition of his name, then screamed from the agony he must have felt from the movement. That was in my favour, it meant that Jim Singer would think that Billy was still working on him.

There was nothing I could do for him, I thought about ending it by shooting him, but feared that a gunshot would bring Singer and his bunch. So I left him to die, the compassionate side of me, hoped it would come quick as I made my way back to where I had left Billy.

About half an hour later, just as the sun was coming up, I climbed aboard my horse and headed for Kansas City. Billy’s screams must have satisfied Singer that he was taking longer than usual about killing Tully and that the screams were coming from that unfortunate, old man. Nobody came to see what he may have been up to. I did, however, stay alert while I worked on Billy just in case.

I regretted that I wouldn’t see their faces when they found Billy with his one good eye cut out, his fingers sliced off one by one and his tongue sliced in half and part of it stuck to the blood on his head where I had scalped him. But I got most satisfaction from cutting off his balls and dick and stuffing them into his bloody mouth. ‘That’s for my sister,’ I growled as I forced his mouth open and stuffed them in.

He had been defiant and threatening at first, telling me how he was going to come after me first chance he got and that no jail could hold him. His pals would get me before we even got back to town. He didn’t recognise me at first and appeared to think I was just another one of the posse members and was going to try to take him back to town. He began to giggle uncontrollably.

‘You better let me go boy,’ he wheezed against the rope taught across his neck. ‘Get outa here while you can get a head start, cos sure as shit we gonna come after you and you gonna lose your hair.’

I took Jim Singer’s knife and held it close to Billy’s eyes.

‘Do you recognise this Billy?’ I said quietly.

‘What?’ he screeched. ‘I don’t see fuck shit in this light.’

‘Well maybe if I tell you the initials on the handle, J.W.D. James Wesley Singer. I removed it from my sister’s butt just after she died.’

He did not speak for a moment, then.

‘Fuck! Is that you Hanson? I didn’t recognize you boy.’

‘Yes it’s me Billy and I gotta tell you, you are dead, or wishing you was when I walk away from here.’

He giggled and taunted me.

‘Well boy if you lookin for revenge for your sis, I gotta tell yuh, she was one fiery little girl. It took all of us to hold her down while we….’

At that point I drove Singer’s knife into his thigh and he screamed in agony as I twisted it, grinding the blade against his thigh bone.

‘Is that how she squealed Billy, do you want to try again?’

I ripped the knife from his thigh and drove it into the other one, repeating the action of twisting the blade against the bone. He yelled out again and began panting and sobbing.

‘Fuck you boy,’ he sobbed. ‘You a dead man when Singer catches up with you.’

I twisted the knife which brought another scream from his lips then pulled it out before moving over to work on his fingers. I sawed through his little finger with Singer’s knife all the time thinking about his part in the violation and killing of my family and Lise in particular.

‘Even if you survive this Billy, which you won’t, you would never be able to scalp anybody again, not without any fingers.’

To drive my point home I sawed off another finger, then another and when I had rid his hand of his fingers, I started on the other. All the time he was cursing and screaming and sobbing. But not one word of regret for what he had done. Even after I scalped him, he was still defiant. I had to work quickly because time was passing and Singer and his bunch would come looking soon even though barely half hour had passed since I found Billy and Tully.

‘How much do you love your good eye Billy?’ I spoke quietly but I was feeling jittery because time was not on my side and I still hadn’t heard any kind of remorse from him.

He had been whimpering since I had cut off his scalp and was no longer defiant.

‘No don’t do it Hanson,’ he whined pleadingly. ‘If you gonna kill me do it I am ready.’

‘But I aint,’ I replied.

I pricked his eye lid with the point of the knife and he yelled loudly.

‘What do you want?’ he whimpered.

He was losing blood and would soon be unconscious.

‘I want you to wish you had never met me, or come across my family. In fact, I want you to wish you had never been born.’

‘Well fuck you,’ he gasped.

I sliced through his eyelid and eyeball then twisted the knife. His scream echoed through the woods louder than any sound I ever heard, including the big cannons they used during the war. When he had finished screaming he commenced sobbing as the blood ran down his face and into his mouth. Then he began to move his lips and a hoarse sound came from his mouth. I placed my ear close to his face.

‘What you say Billy?’

‘Finish it, kill me, please.’

‘Is that what my sister said you bastard, while you were doing what you were doing to her?’

‘I’m begging you, finish me.’

I was not quite satisfied but it would have to do. I didn’t have time to prolong it. However, just to make sure Singer got the message; I forced the knife between Billy’s teeth and prized open his mouth. In his semi-conscious state, he hardly resisted. I sliced the blade across his tongue cutting off a good piece of it. The only sound he made was a gurgling noise as the blood ran down his throat. Finally, I stuck the piece of tongue to the sticky, congealing blood on his head.

I doubt if he even felt it when I cut off his genitals, he was close to unconsciousness and possible death.

As a final act to make sure the message was clear, I left Singers knife in Billy’s belly, where Jim was sure to find it and know who had left it there.

FIVE

I made sure that I remained inconspicuous when I arrived in Kansas City. It was a busy town with construction work happening all over the place. There were rail workers everywhere and many brick buildings were going up in various parts of the town.

I found a livery for my horse and a hotel in the quieter part of town. The hotel had an eatery attached so I didn’t need to go far to satiate my hunger.

It was obvious to me that if I wanted to locate Singer, I would have to find the wildest and most populated saloon in town. His kind liked to be the centre of attention and he needed plenty of folks there when he threw his considerable weight around. However, I didn’t think he would be in town yet, I believed I had got a good head start on him because he needed to locate Billy Reason in the woods first. Then they would take some time deciding what to do when they did find him. Singer would leave Billy where he found him on the ground by the fallen tree; he wouldn’t bother with the burden of burying him. I had removed my rope and laid Billy on his back beside the tree to be sure Singer saw everything I had done to him and found the knife I had left in his belly. I knew when he found the knife he would get the message loud and clear. Billy was still alive when I left him and in great pain, but I figured he didn’t have long. I hoped he was still alive when Singer found him. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t be able to give Singer a description of me without a tongue.

For three cents extra, the hotel provided hot baths and that was a luxury I could not resist even though it took the Negro woman who looked after the bath house, a long time to boil pans of water and fill the tub. I found a clean shirt and left my soiled one with the bath house woman to be laundered, which was another of her duties. Then I dressed and headed for Main Street.

I need not have worried about being conspicuous, Main Street was crowded with all kinds of people coming and going from different establishments and I just blended in with the crowd. If and when Singer turned up, even with his overbearing presence, he would be hard to locate and even if I did find him and his crew, I still needed to isolate one or more of them and get them in a secluded place in order to work on them. Would he even come to Kansas City after finding Billy? He’d already had his revenge on me by violating and killing my family. After seeing what I had done to Billy Reason, he must have known I was cut to the bone about what he had done to them. He knew that torture and maiming wasn’t normally, my way of doing things and because of what I had done, he would realise I was having trouble coping with the torture and killing of my family. That would probably be satisfaction enough for Singer. Which meant that if he decided to give Kansas City a miss and go on to somewhere else, I was going to have a problem picking up his trail again?

I sought out the biggest and bawdiest saloon, one that would prove to be the most attractive to men like Singer and his sidekicks. I kept my coat buttoned so that my gun would not be obvious. I wanted to attract as little attention as possible.

Men of all walks of life were entering and leaving the saloon, from gamblers to construction workers and salesmen to farmers. Many wore arms in plain view and just as many were either unarmed, or like me kept them hidden. It was a big wooden building two stories high with rooms to let on the second floor. The noise inside was almost overbearing from the loud talk and laughter that was coming from the patrons. There was a stage at one side of the room with a piano being played by a thin bald headed guy who was chewing on an unlit cigar. At the back of the saloon against the far wall, was a long bar running almost the width of the room and was manned by four barkeeps. I guessed that there were around thirty five to forty tables filling much of the space, nearly all of them occupied by card players, many that looked like professional gamblers dressed in town clothes similar to mine.

I ordered a beer at the bar which was crowded with men either leaning with their elbows on the bar or standing with their backs to it surveying the room. After paying for my beer, I quickly moved away and sought out and found an empty table by the wall close to the door. From there, I would be able to watch who entered the saloon and also survey the rest of the room. I kept my hat on pulled down over my eyes and sat quietly and hopefully, inconspicuously with my back to the wall waiting. I noticed that there were girls circulating the room and occasionally leading a man by the hand to the upstairs rooms. This place would surely be attractive to Singer. All three of them were attracted to being cruel to women. It seemed to me, that hurting females had become an obsession with them.

I only took an occasional sip from my beer, hoping to make it last as long as possible. I was reluctant to relinquish my table and vantage point by going to the bar for another but sitting with an empty glass in front of me might attract attention.

The solution came with one of the bar girls who came to my table and sat down opposite me.

‘Why are you drinking alone honey?’ She asked in a throaty voice. ‘If you buy me a drink I can join you and maybe later we can go upstairs, would you like that honey?’

‘Sure,’ I replied relieved that she had unknowingly, come to my rescue.

I held up a silver dollar. ‘This is for you and I want nothing more from you than you go to the bar and bring me a beer, no, make that two.

I tossed fifty cents onto the table. ‘Get yourself a drink while you are about it,’ I continued.

She picked up the money and smiled brightly at me before turning and disappearing into the crowd. I briefly wondered if she would keep the fifty cents and stay away, but it was not long before she returned with a tray holding two beers and a glass of something I guessed was whisky. She sat down opposite me after placing the glasses on the table and raised her glass.

‘Thank you kind sir,’ she said brightly. ‘I am Dolly, do you have a name or do I just call you stranger?’

I returned the smile and raised my glass.

‘My name is James, Dolly. James Wesley Singer, but you can call me Jim.’

‘Hello Jim, I am very happy to know you, um about that silver dollar.’

I grinned at her before fishing the coin out of my vest pocket and handing it over. She took it and turned it around several times in her small fingers before holding it up to the light.

‘I never had a silver dollar before,’ she whispered. ‘This will buy you a session and the room rent for an hour with some left over for more drinks.’

‘I told you Dolly, I require nothing more from you than that you fetch my drinks and save me from giving up my table.’

‘This table must be very important to you for you to pay such a high price.’

I laughed. ‘The table is of no consequence, but the position by the door is. From here I can see who comes and goes and therefore won’t miss my business associates should they enter the room.’

‘I see,’ she smiled. Then she pouted. ‘I was worried that you didn’t find me attractive Jim.’

‘I find you very attractive Dolly,’ I answered truthfully. ‘If the circumstances were different, I would be tickled to take you up on your offer.’

‘Maybe tomorrow night when you have concluded your business, or will you be leaving town then?’

‘If all goes as I hope, I will be moving on. But circumstances have a way of not always going as you plan.’

As if to prove my point, circumstances suddenly changed dramatically and not in a way that was in my favour.

Two men came over and stood behind Dolly. One had a pistol stuffed in the left side of his belt with the butt facing his right hand for a cross draw. The other man was younger, probably around my age and he wore a pistol stuffed in a holster that was slung down low on his thigh, the bottom of which was tied down with a leather thong just above his knee. I had heard of this way of wearing a gun but never before seen it. It seemed it gave the wearer the advantage of pulling his gun quicker from the holster. Maybe so, but you still needed to line up the gun accurately and hit the target.

I could feel he was staring at me intently but I kept my eyes looking at Dolly. She though, looked nervous and tense.

‘Mister,’ the younger one said quietly. ‘We need this table for cards so I would be obliged if you move and take your whore with you.’

I looked up and grinned. I had already fisted my Remington and held it under my coat as I slowly pulled back the hammer.

‘That’s unfortunate,’ I replied. ‘But I need this position to see when my friends come in, so I would be obliged if you find yourself another table.’

He looked at his partner and grinned.

‘Well lookee here,’ he drawled. ‘Seems to me like this man don’t know what’s good for him, maybe he needs a lesson in manners.’

His sidekick laughed loudly and I noticed that many of the crowd in the vicinity had gone quiet and were watching us furtively. Also, I saw by the fear on her face, that Dolly wanted to be any place but here and unfortunately, I too wanted her gone for she was in my line of fire.

‘I think it is you who needs to improve your manners sir. Can’t you see you are frightening the lady?’

At this they both guffawed and I noticed that the whole saloon had quietened. This was something I had hoped to avoid. Now I was the centre of attention as the room became tense from the possible drama that was unfolding.

The older man grabbed Dolly’s arm and pulled her from her chair which fell over from the force, then threw her across the room where she gratefully scurried into the watching throng.

‘Now your fucking whore aint got nothing to be scared of,’ he growled.

The younger man with the low slung gun placed both hands on the table and leaned forward his face just inches from mine.

‘Now mister, I’m telling you again to move your ass away from this table or I’m gonna shoot your ears off.’

‘You’d shoot an unarmed man?’

He stared at me for a long time. I could tell he was spoiling for a fight but was unsure of me as I stared back without wavering. Then he stood and spoke to his sidekick.

‘Give him your gun Sol,’ he said menacingly.

I knew this was going to end in shooting for it had gone too far. He didn’t want to lose face and even if I backed down, he wouldn’t let it go now. I looked at the Colt that Sol had placed before me on the table. Then back at the gunman who was now standing erect with his legs spread and his hand hovering over the butt of his gun.

‘Stand up,’ he growled.

‘I don’t believe I will.’

‘Then you will die sitting down. But I’m giving you a chance. I’m gonna count to three and then you better go for that gun, either way, you are dead.’

If the situation hadn’t been so serious, I would have found it laughable that a man would be so naive as to begin a countdown to his own death. I sat back in my chair and looked up at him. My pistol was levelled at where I figured his groin to be, though it was still hidden under my coat. He stiffened and began the count.

‘One....’

That’s when I shot him. The ball ripped into his belly just above his groin and he went down screaming. He would die in agony, of that I had no doubt. Everybody in the room was frozen in shocked silence, but I was instantly on the move. I quickly, jumped up and strode over to the stricken man having swept the other pistol from the table. I pulled his gun from his holster and held it in my hand with the colt. Then keeping my gun levelled at the other man who was staring in disbelief at his dying partner writhing on the floor, I backed out of the door.

I knew I had to act fast. Sooner or later, I would be sought out. Maybe I would get away with self-defence, but I didn’t intend to take that chance. Even if I was given the benefit of the doubt, I would become known and that was something I wanted to avoid which was also, the reason I had given Singers name to Dolly.

I ran to the livery which luckily, wasn’t far. I had paid for two days in advance so the livery man was happy enough when I saddled and rode my horse away. I dismounted at the hotel and retrieved my bags and rifle from my room, then rode away from Kansas City cursing the gunman who had forced me into a scene, thus robbing me of my chance to keep a tab on Singer and his men.

I headed west towards Lawrence figuring as long as my quarry had been headed for the State of Kansas and they hadn’t, up until the time I left, turned up in Kansas City. Then Lawrence would be a good place for me to start trying to relocate them as the next big town in Kansas. On the way, I made camp high on a hill and behind some rocks where I could command a good view of the surrounding area. In the morning, before I continued my journey, I shaved off my beard.

Lawrence was another busy town. It seemed now the war was over, everywhere was going through constructional, financial and political change. As usual, I took care to find a livery for my horse before attending to my needs. I decided to keep clear of busy saloons and was able to find lodgings in a quite part of town.

I stayed in Lawrence for three nights, making frequent visits to the busier parts of town. But there was no Sign of the Singer gang. The trail had gone cold. I had no idea where to start trying to pick up his trail. However, I was convinced he would be in the state of Kansas somewhere, because it was where he had been headed. I believed he must have had a reason to be going to Kansas in the first place. All I needed to do was find out where and what it was. It was that simple, but it didn’t fill me with confidence.

SIX

For the next six months or so, I travelled around Kansas and Missouri finding work here and there, mainly in construction and labouring on the railways that were beginning to cross the whole of the west. I also worked occasionally for farmers and once in Topeka as a law enforcement officer. That didn’t last long though. I had been attacked by a prisoner who had concealed a knife in his boot and the Mayor wasn’t happy that I had shot and killed him. He didn’t seem to think that fearing for my welfare was a suitable defence and told me I should be happy that I was only being relieved of my duties and not standing trial for murder.

I had been convinced that Singer had stayed in Kansas or moved back to Missouri. But I could find nobody in any of the towns I visited who had seen him or the men who rode with him. Some people I questioned had heard of him or even met him. But I found no recent sightings anywhere.

It was in Wichita that I got a breakthrough. I was in a poker game with three other men. One of them was a whisky salesman who happened to be very talkative. He had come up from Oklahoma and told about a gang that had made a raid on a bank in a small town called Pond Creek near to the Texas border. They had shot up the town before heading for Texas. I had been only mildly interested until he described the leader of the gang. There was no doubt in my mind it was Singer.

‘When was this?’ I asked him.

‘It was a week ago, there were seven of them I believe and one of them was a woman.

SEVEN

I made some discreet enquiries in Pond Creek. Though I hardly needed to be discreet. The robbery and killings were the talk of the town even though they had happened around three weeks previously. The robbers had shot and killed a bank teller and wounded the bank manager. They had also shot and killed a woman and a young boy on the street. Most of the talk was about a woman with long black hair, possibly Mexican, who was riding with the robbers. It was told that she had been unarmed, but when one of the men shot the child, she rode her horse right at him knocking his pistol from his grasp and almost unseating him. One of the bystanders opined that she was crazy, her face was twisted with rage and if she had had a weapon, there was no doubt that she would have killed him.

Nobody pursued them to the Texan border, but everybody I spoke to seemed to have no doubt that they were heading for Texas.

EIGHT

Texas is a big state and I had no idea where they were headed. What I did know however, was that Singer liked busy towns with rowdy saloons where he could enjoy throwing his weight around. He also liked women, particularly, he enjoyed hurting them. So a town that had its share of whores would be a place he would head for. I had foreseen a long journey across territory that would have at the best, many miles between patches of civilisation, so I purchased a pack mule and supplies in Pond Creek.

I struck lucky when I came to the town of Gainesville. There had been a shooting a couple of weeks previously and from the description of the men involved, there was no doubt that three of them were Jim Singer, Frank Davey and Chad Blackthorne. An unarmed man had been shot by Blackthorne according to the description of the killer. The poor fellow had been remonstrating with six drunken men who had been haranguing his wife and other women. Blackthorne had simply drawn his gun and shot the man dead. The gang had then, hurriedly left town, but not before Singer had dragged a woman from a shack they had been renting and forced her to mount a horse and ride away with them. From what the witnesses said, she looked as though she had been pretty badly beat up. Luckily for me, a few men from the town began shooting as the gang rode away and had shot a horse from under one of the gang. He had been captured and was in the courthouse jail awaiting trial for being an accessory to murder. It was no secret he had been talking a lot hoping he would receive leniency and from what I heard, Singer had been planning something big in southern Texas, but hadn’t said where or what it was. However, I discovered that they had headed for Denton County and that is where I headed also.

I carried on travelling due south through Denton County and on to Tarrant County and then to Fort Worth where I stayed overnight and discovered that I was close on the heels of Singer. He and his men had left on the same night that I had arrived in Fort Worth and they were heading south.

For the next month or so I followed their sign. They didn’t even try to hide their tracks. They left camp sites uncovered and unhidden and always there was the sign of six horses. There seemed to be no obvious destination. Their tracks always meandered South East, then South West and then South East again. But always in a southerly direction. They didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get to where they were going, often staying overnight in small communities or towns. But I had no doubt that they had a final destination in mind, they were simply biding their time getting there. All I needed to do, was stay close enough to make my play any time one or more of them got isolated from the rest.

However, true to the way things had a way of panning out and not always for the best, events took another turn. I was about thirty miles north of San Antonio, when I came across the girl.

NINE

I found their camp by a creek in a small wood. They had probably used the tree canopy to break up the smoke from their camp fire. It seemed, by the amount of ash that was scattered around and the hole in the ground further away that they had used for a toilet that they had stayed here maybe three nights or more. It was unusual for men like them to stay in one place, unless it was a town, for more than one night. Maybe they had been waiting for somebody. I could not think of another reason, unless San Antonio was their final destination and they were timing their entry to the town. The only reason I could think of was that they were planning a robbery. If so it must be something big if they needed to get their timing right.

I took my horse and mule to the creek to drink and to fill up my water bottle. That was where I disturbed vultures that seemed to be gathering close to a stand of trees farther along the bank. I walked stealthily toward the trees and as I got closer, I noticed a smell that got stronger until the stench was almost unbearable. I had smelled rotting corpses before on the battlefields and had never been able to entirely, get used to the stench. This was a different kind of smell, but just as bad if not worse. I wrapped my bandana around my face to cover my mouth and nose and inched forward. That was when I saw the girl, although at first, she was unrecognisable as a girl.

She was lying face down with her arms and legs spread and lashed to heavy logs. She was covered in blood, flies and excreta, some, possibly her own, but somebody had, in an act of awful and filthy, degradation, smeared more of the stuff, over her naked body and possibly, on her face. The awful mess mixed with the blood from her wounds, made a grotesque pattern on her body. Her long black hair which was also matted in faeces, blood and god knows what else flowed around her shoulders and covered her face, which I assumed to be just as much a mess as the rest of her. Whoever had left her in this way, had either, killed her and rode away, or left her to die an agonising and undignified death and only one person I knew would do that to a woman. God knows what they had put her through before leaving her to die. I could only guess at the horrors she had experienced before they left her, but I guessed it lasted a long time seeing as how there were five of them, that’s assuming it was Singer and his accomplices and I guessed they would all want a turn. This was probably why they had lingered here so long. They had probably used her for days before subjecting her to the mess they had left her in. Well, I decided, there was nothing I could do for her now.

I turned and began to walk back to my horse which was now standing up to its withers in the cold water of the creek obviously enjoying the solitude and cooling therapy of the water. The mule, having drunk its fill was grazing on an area of grass close by. I was about to go into the water for my horse when I heard something in the wood.

The sound from behind me was barely audible, but I had certainly heard something. I turned and looked across at the girl. She lay perfectly still. I watched her for a few minutes but nothing happened. I decided that maybe it had been an animal or a vulture close by that had made the sound. She was so obviously dead, that it wasn’t worth me lingering any longer. I wondered briefly, if she had been the girl riding with Singer and if so, why had they done this to her if she was one of them. I didn’t dwell on the matter though; I had far more important things to attend to than to ponder over a dead girl. I needed to stay on the trail of Singer and his cronies or I might lose them again. Even though it seemed their destination, now, was San Antonio.

I walked back to my horse and dragged the reluctant animal from the water and onto the bank. She was a bad tempered mare and if she didn’t get her own way she made sure you knew she wasn’t pleased about it. She lunged at me with her teeth when I tried to grab the reins. We hated each other me and that mare, but we also needed each other and there was an uneasy truce between us. So after a lot of pulling and cursing from me and neighing and snorting from her, I eventually made her see things my way and finally got mounted.

I started the horse up the bank having taken up the lead for the mule, when I thought heard, what could only be described as a feeble yelp come from the wood. I stopped and looked back, peering into the trees where the girl lay. I could just make out a couple of the more adventurous vultures close to her and one had torn at her arm with its vicious beak before hopping away when she had yelped.

I sat astride my horse staring at the form lying just inside the wood. I now had a dilemma. I could ride away and leave her to her fate or go back and try to tend to her wounds. Either way, I was certain she would die sooner than later. I decided to ride away. I had wasted too much time as it was and getting covered in shit wasn’t something I particularly relished. I doubted that I could even get close to her without throwing up anyway. She was obviously going to die, so what difference would it make whether I cut her loose or left her as she was. Once the vultures got a good taste of her, it wouldn’t take long for them to finish her off.

I rode away and as I did so I heard another, but even weaker, yelp. I ignored it and headed south towards San Antonio.

I picked up fresh sign; it looked like seven horses, one rider-less judging by the shallow imprints of its hoofs. I guessed that the rider-less horse had previously been ridden by the girl in the wood and the seventh, a pack animal. I followed the sign for nearly an hour before I finally stopped and allowed my conscience to dictate my destiny. Then I turned back and rode the mare at a gallop dragging the mule behind, to the creek and the wood where the girl lay. I don’t know for sure why I turned back. Maybe I had some compassion somewhere in my hard heart. Or maybe, which was more than likely, I had remembered my little sister Lise, lying alone and in great pain, waiting for her big brother to come and make her safe. The girl in the wood probably had nobody who cared. Perhaps she had given up hope and was just waiting for death to take her and her pain away. Whatever my reason for it, I decided that if there was any hope at all, I would try my damndest to give it to her. That was a decision I later, came to regret.

When I got back to the creek, I ran to the wood with my gun drawn. The vultures had gotten braver and were pecking at her arms before hopping away when she moved. The fact that she was able to move at all was a good sign. I raised the pistol and fired off a shot into the air scaring away the half dozen vultures that had gotten close to her.

I stripped naked figuring that it would be easier to wash the mess and stench from my skin than it would from my clothes. Then I approached her with my knife in my hand and my bandana tied around my face. As I got close I began to gag from the stench. Many of the flies that had covered her began to settle on me, there seemed to be thousands of them along with other insects that were feeding on the shit and blood that covered her.

I hacked through the ropes that were binding her hands and feet to the logs. Then I turned her over and tried to lift her, but each time I did, she slipped from my grasp because of the slime and blood that covered her even though much of it had become encrusted. Each time I tried to lift her I found myself getting covered in more of the same mess. It was obviously causing her pain and discomfort when I tried to lift her, because when I did, she groaned or squealed and weakly flayed her arms trying to hit me. I had to admire her spunk, for despite her injuries, she was still trying to defend herself. However, I eventually, managed to lift her, face down over my shoulder and stagger with her to the creek. I kept my head turned away trying to lessen the effects of the overpowering stench, but to no avail, I myself was covered in the mess and I found it a struggle to keep the contents of my stomach from coming up.

The mare and the mule were grazing contentedly on the same patch of grass the mule had found earlier when I staggered into the creek and fell forwards dumping the girl into about two feet of fairly, swift flowing water. We both went under the water and cold though it was; never had anything felt as good as that icy clean water washing over my filth covered body. I held on tightly to the girl as we both surfaced. She was weakly flaying her arms about trying to swim, so great was her will to survive. The icy cold water must have partly awakened her awareness because she was gurgling and trying to yell something unintelligible. I wrapped an arm around her chest and pulled her to me so that she was leaning back against me as I sat in the water. She kept trying to struggle against me but she was extremely weak and I found it reasonably easy to hold her still whilst I washed her. I washed every part of her body, turning her over often in the water so as not to miss cleaning away the mess from every part of her. Then I dragged the weakened girl to the bank where I laid her down on her side while I returned to the water to wash myself. After getting rid of the mess, I went to my horse to get a bar of soap which I kept in my saddle bag. I returned to the girl and, after giving her a few sips of clean water from my canteen, I placed her into the shallow water where I washed her all over once more but this time with soap, making sure to lather her hair and wash it thoroughly. This time she didn’t make any attempt to struggle and I figured she had probably come to realise, I was trying to help her. After doing the same for myself I carried her to where Singer and his crew had had their camp. There were patches of grass and it was on one of these that I laid her down. She was shivering even though it was still warm in the late afternoon sun. But then, I was shivering slightly too. I guessed the icy cold from the creek water had gotten into our bones. I went back to the mule and led her back to where the camp was, I had made sure the mule I bought was female because the mare was due to come in to season and though mules are infertile, they still got agitated near a horse in season. She was reluctant to leave the lush patch of grass she had found and didn’t take kindly to me taking her away while the horse was left to graze. Taking a rolled up blanket from the pack on her back, I rolled the girl tightly in it so that she had her arms and body encased with just her head showing. I looked at her face. It was bruised and swollen as were her lips, but she was in much better condition than I had expected. I’d found some cuts and bite marks on her body and patches of sunburn where the sun had reached her through the trees. Also wounds on her arm where vultures had begun to test her by pecking at them before hopping away. Apart from that, there were no obvious life threatening injuries. Singer must be getting soft in his old age. The treatment he had doled out to this girl was mild in comparison to what he normally did. I did not know how long she had been left alone and tied down, but I guessed it must have been anything up to three days. Probably Two of those days were spent being violated and abused by Singer’s men, each taking a turn with her and the last day, she had spent alone and covered from head to toe in that vile mess. That would have been enough to kill some men let alone a woman. There was no way of knowing what else they had subjected her to before leaving her.

I dried myself on my spare shirt and got dressed. It was good to have my clothes on again and I warmed up pretty quickly. After dressing I found kindling, while at the same time, looking around to see if her clothes had been left anywhere. I guessed they had either taken them with them or burned them figuring she would have no further use for them. I built a fire in the same place as where the Singer gang had. Once I got the flames going good, I moved the girl closer to the fire, causing her to stir and begin to make a weak protest. Her lips were dried and cracked so I allowed her to drink more water, after which, she laid her head down and closed her eyes once more. She was close to the fire and I had to move her long mane of thick hair back behind her head for fear it would ignite, before setting my old blackened can over the flames to boil water for coffee.

After removing my supplies from the mule and hobbling both her and the mare close to the grassy area they had found to make sure they wouldn’t wander off, I made some strong coffee and sat watching the girl. I had laid her on her side facing the fire with her hair twisted into a braid behind her. Her eyes were closed but I had no idea if she was asleep or unconscious. However, she did seem to be breathing normally and she looked comfortable. I sat sipping my coffee and eating jerky watching her. I decided that when the swelling went down on her face, she would be very attractive. Besides her long black hair, which she was very fortunate to still have, luckily for her Billy Reason was no longer around to scalp and maim her, she had large dark eyes and dark features and I decided she was Mexican, or at least part Mexican. I figured she would be around nineteen or twenty years old and I wondered briefly, why a girl so young would be associating with a man like Singer. She was obviously, very weak and needed to build some strength before she would be able to travel. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to linger and decided that, whether she was strong enough or not, I would put her on my horse and try to get her to the nearest homestead or ranch where I could leave her to get well. I hoped she would be strong enough to answer some questions about Singer before I left her.

Her eyes opened as I watched her and she stared, hardly blinking, directly at me.

‘How are you feeling?’ I asked as gently as I could.

She didn’t answer so I tried my limited grasp of Spanish.

‘¿Cómo estás?’ I asked hopefully.

She carried on staring at me through her big dark eyes. I held up my mug of coffee and pointed to it with the piece of jerky in my other hand.

‘You want coffee?’

Her eyes moved to the jerky in my hand and I realised she must be starving and also, she was in need of food to get her strength up.

I moved to sit beside her and lifted her to a sitting position. Then I held the jerky to her mouth. She snapped at it with her sharp teeth like a hungry dog and tore off a piece and I noticed she still had all her teeth and they were strong and even. For some reason, Singer had left her in reasonably good condition. Apart from the shallow knife wounds on her body, the bite marks on her breasts and some bruising on her face, there wasn’t a lot wrong with her physically. At least not visibly. But god only knew how she felt inside and there was no way of knowing what other damage they had caused to her internally, for she had bled profusely from between her legs as I had washed her. There was no doubt in my mind she would have died if I hadn’t come back for her. Being tied down, naked and exposed to the elements, besides the indignity of having excrement and urine smeared all over her, was no way for anybody to die. For she would surely, have been eaten alive by the flies and other insects and finished off by the vultures and coyotes.

She finished the strip of jerky in no time. Then I let her take a sip from the coffee mug. She winced when the hot coffee entered her mouth and I guessed the inside of her mouth must be sore from the beating she had taken. Even so, she drank more of the hot liquid, and then ate more jerky from a cache of the stuff which I kept in the supply pack.

When I thought she had had enough to help build her strength, I laid her down again and she closed her eyes. All this time she hadn’t uttered a sound apart from a slight moan from the hot coffee searing her sore mouth.

By now it was getting dark and I decided to settle down and try to catch some sleep. I hoped that Singer had gone to San Antonio where he would almost certainly linger for a few days, giving me a chance to get close and try to isolate one or more of his partners. Or better still, the man himself. I was a bit concerned that two more had joined his gang making five in all. I wasn’t sure if it was anybody I knew, so I would be blind as to the identities of the other two.

The girl had my blanket, so I untied my other bed roll from my saddle that I had removed from the mare. I stoked the fire with logs before settling down, to help keep away the cold night air. After a long time thinking about the past twenty four hours, I finally slept.

Long before dawn, it started raining. The fire had died down to a few glowing embers, not enough to keep out the chill. I was cold and when I looked across at the girl, I could just make out that she was shivering under the blanket. In her weakened state and having nothing more than a rain soaked blanket covering her nakedness, she could easily get a fever. I put the few remaining logs on the fire, then got my slicker from the pack and went to lie down beside her. She tried to move away from me at first and spoke for the first time.

‘No,’ she said as I moved my body close so that I was lying with my chest pressed close to her back. However, it was only a slight resistance. I pulled the extra blanket over us both then the slicker to protect against the rain and placed my arm over her shoulder. She relaxed and moved her body back tight to mine so that the warmth from my body would seep through the blanket that was cocooning her, to her own body and eventually she stopped shivering as I too felt the benefit of our shared warmth.

When dawn came, I looked up at the grey sky to find that it had stopped raining, at least for the time being. I could feel the girl breathing steadily beside me. Easing out from under the blanket and slicker, I went in search of kindling for the now, dead fire.

When I came back with my arms full of logs and twigs, I had a dead rabbit hanging from my belt which I had surprised in the wood and shot before it had chance to escape.

The girl was still asleep as I started another fire where the old one had been. I skinned the rabbit and made a spit out of two forked branches and a straight stake which I drove through the centre of the rabbit from neck to rump and set it over the flames to roast. Then I put my can on some embers at the edge of the fire to boil water for coffee. The water didn’t take long to boil and I was soon sitting with my mug of coffee watching the girl as she slept. After finishing the coffee, I took the mare and the mule down to the creek to drink, and then I left them to graze on their favourite patch of grass while I returned to check on the rabbit. The girl was awake and was sitting with the blanket wrapped tightly around her, but with her arms exposed. She had turned the rabbit and was sitting watching it hungrily. It looked pretty well cooked to me and I felt the hunger too as I looked at the delicious looking meat. I got some hard tack from my pack and gave some to the girl. Then I removed the rabbit from the fire and sliced a sliver of hot meat from it, which I handed to her. She took it gingerly and waved it about a bit to cool it. Then she tore a huge chunk off with her teeth and devoured it instantly, finishing the remainder just as quickly. I was still half way through eating my share as she finished and eyed the rest of the rabbit like a hungry wolf. I took the rest of the carcase and tore it in half handing her one half of it. She snatched it from my hand and began to devour it. She went at it like a starving animal, making loud grunting noises as she ate mouthfuls of the meat occasionally eyeing me suspiciously as she supplemented each mouthful with a piece of hardtack. I watched fascinated as she sucked every bone clean then belched loudly as she leaned back on her elbow. I offered her what was left of the other half of the rabbit. She sat up without a word and snatched it from my hand, then began tearing the meat from the carcass with her teeth until she had eaten everything but the bones. I poured hot coffee into my mug and offered it to her. She took it silently and sipped at the hot liquid, all the time watching me from under her long lashes.

It was obvious she was wary of me and didn’t trust me even though she must have realised I had saved her life. Who could blame her after what she had been through? However, she might be able to provide me with valuable information as to where Singer was heading and what he was planning. So I needed to gain her trust.

‘Are you feeling better?’ I asked by way of conversation.

She wiped her grease covered lips and chin on her forearm and continued to stare silently at me.

‘What’s your name? I asked.

Still silence as her smouldering eyes burned into me from her unwavering stare.

‘¿Cuál es su nombre?’ I tried.

Still silence and I began to lose patience.

‘Ok,’ I growled. ‘Have it your way, I don’t have time for this. I cannot waste any more time over you girl. I need to find the varmints you were with and I am losing valuable time.’

I reached to take the mug and she shied away from me. I left my hand where it was and indicated the mug with my forefinger. She looked down at the mug in her hand before registering what I wanted, then handed it to me.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I’ll take the blanket too, I need to be on my way and will need that blanket.’

She gripped the top of the blanket and held it tightly to her throat. There was alarm in her eyes indicating that she had understood completely, what I had said.

‘Lady, that blanket belongs to me, I have done all I can for you but now I need to be on my way. The men you were with are getting away from me and I cannot let that happen.’

She glared at me and rolled her lips inwards as though to suppress a sob. But she was defiant, almost daring me to take the blanket from her. Then she spoke.

‘What is Singer to you?’ she asked in perfect English and I even detected an English accent, though she did croak a little.

‘Well Maam that is my business. But I will say, I am not seeking him to shake him by the hand.’

‘Take me with you; I know where he is going.’

‘Well from the sign, it looks as though they are heading for San Antonio so I know where he is heading also. I’m afeard you don’t have anything to bargain with.’

‘That’s only a stopover, they are going somewhere else. By the time you get to San Antonio, they will be gone. If you take me with you, we can go direct to their destination and be there waiting for them.’

‘Ok, I’ll take you to the next town or homestead we come across where you will be safe. I will even buy you some clothes. Just tell me where they are going.’

‘Mister,’ she said defiantly. ‘I don’t know why you are looking for them and I don’t much care. But you cannot want them as bad as I do. You saw what them bastards did to me, so I have a good reason to want them to pay and one way or another I am going to get them all with or without you.’

‘No offence Maam, but you are hardly Davy Crocket and they have already almost killed you, next time they come across you they might finish the job.’

She looked at me with something akin to hate in her eyes.

‘They jumped me when I wasn’t looking and when I wasn’t expecting it and it took five of them to do it. What they did to me will live with me for the rest of my life and until I get all of them dirty filthy bastards and make them pay, I will never be satisfied.’

I grinned at her which only served to make her scowl at me angrily.

‘I know what they did to you lady, I had the task of washing you down’.

Then I added impudently, ‘every single bit of you.’

Her scowl became even more pronounced as she glared at me and she was clearly embarrassed, she even coloured up a bit.

‘Well,’ she mumbled sullenly, moving her eyes from me to look down at the fire. ‘That aint all they did.’

‘Ok, what else did they do?’

‘What do you think they did? ‘She screeched. ‘Buy me flowers and take me to dinner?’

‘I only asked.’

‘Well I’m not telling you, use your imagination.’

We both sat silently looking at the dying fire for a while. Then she spoke again.

‘Tell me why you are looking for them.’

‘I want to do to them the same as you want to do, only more.’

She looked at me as though I was a novice at the revenge game.

‘I want them more than you do,’ she hissed. ‘You have no idea what hate is unless you get inside my head.’

‘Lady, what they did to you is a ride on a carousel compared to what they put my twelve year old sister through and nobody came along to save her.’

We both fell silent again. Then she said, ‘I’m sorry about your sister. But whatever you do to those men, I want to be there to see you do it.’

I got to my feet and retrieved my spare shirt from where it had been drying on my saddle. Then walked back to the fire and tossed it to the girl who had also got to her feet, though a little unsteadily.

‘Put that on, I cannot hang around any longer if I am to catch up to them.’

I expected her to go behind a tree or find some kind of cover and was shocked when she let the blanket drop to leave her standing naked, before she pulled the shirt on. I quickly turned away feeling a little awkward and went to saddle the mare and pack the mule. But not before seeing what a real beauty she was. Strangely, her nakedness had never really registered with me when I had carried her to the creek. Nor had the realisation of exactly what I was doing whilst I was washing her, even though I needed to wash the most intimate parts of her body. My only purpose and overwhelming need at the time, was to rid both of us of the overpowering stench, it was pure panic and the distaste of what we were both covered in at that moment in time and the need to remove it in as shorter time as possible, before I heaved up the contents of my stomach.

I led the two animals back to the camp where the girl had rolled up my blankets and was holding them ready to hand over to me. She had buttoned the shirt up but I noticed for the first time how tall she was, for the shirt barely covered her ass.

‘Ok,’ I said. ‘Which way’

She looked up and I noticed some of the swelling on her face had gone down, but it was still puffy and bruised.

‘They are going to Laredo, they got word that the Mexicans are going to smuggle a hoard of gold over the border into Mexico from Texas. It is gold that was hidden during the Mexican American war and the Mexican government want to retrieve it and return it to Mexico. Singer found out that they are going to use Laredo as a crossing point on the Rio Grande.’

After lashing one blanket behind my saddle and packing the other on the mule, I mounted the horse and reached down for the girl. She took my hand and pulled herself up and even in her weakened state, managed to, easily throw a leg over and sit astride the mare’s rump. The mare didn’t like it, I’m sure she was intensely jealous of other females. She skittered a bit when the girl got up behind me, but I managed to settle her down and we set off at a walk with the girl sitting behind me, her long legs and bare feet dangling free and her hands holding on to the cantle. After around an hour of balancing on a mare that swayed her rump in a more pronounced manner than most horses, she wrapped her arms around my waist and held on tight.

We made two stops all day, the first one at a shallow creek which allowed the animals to drink and both me and the girl to relieve ourselves and drink. The other when the girl had become so weak that she nearly fell off the horse. I had felt her arms going slack around my waist just before she started slipping sideways. I brought the horse to a standstill and grabbed hold of her arm.

‘Hold on,’ I said as I swung a leg over the saddle then swung the other leg the opposite way so that I was facing the mare’s rump.

I allowed the girl to slip sideways with me holding on to her arm. Then I lowered her to the ground as carefully as I could. Even so, she fell some of the way and landed heavily, on her side in the dirt. She was still conscious because she tried to rise, but was barely able to lift her shoulders. I dismounted and removed my canteen. Holding it to her lips, I tilted her head back and poured some water down her throat. She choked on it a little then coughed and surprised me by lashing out with her arm knocking the canteen out of my grasp.

‘What the fuck?’ She gasped. ‘Are you trying to choke me to death?’

I scrambled to retrieve the canteen before we lost too much of the precious water.

‘Remind me not to save you next time you decide to fall off a horse,’ I growled, ‘and by the way, your share of the water just got soaked up by the dirt.’

She glared at me defiantly with her full lips pressed together in a thin line.

‘I was not about to fall. I have never fallen off a horse by myself in my goddamn life; I had some help from you, you fucking brains of a mule fool.’

I stared at her unable to believe what I was hearing. She had almost lost consciousness and would have taken a bad fall if I had not grabbed her. Yet here she was denying that there had been anything wrong with her and it was my fault that she had become unhorsed at all.’

‘Fine,’ I said keeping my voice steady. ‘Then you are fit enough to carry on the journey.’

I mounted the mare and watched as the girl climbed shakily, to her feet and pulled the shirt down over her exposed rump while swaying unsteadily on weakened legs.

She came to the horse and reached up for my hand which wasn’t there.

‘Give me a hand,’ she said as she glared up at me.

‘You made it damned obvious you don’t need help from me.’ I replied quietly. ‘Now hurry up and get on this horse or I’m gonna leave you here. I might leave you here anyway; I don’t need you now I know where Singer is headed.’

She glared at me with murder in her eyes, then reached up to get a grip on the saddle and tried unsuccessfully, to throw a leg over the horse’s rump. The mare wasn’t very co-operative anyway. She shied away each time the girl tried to mount her, whilst I sat looking on grinning with satisfaction. Finally the girl gave up and stood, bent at the waist with her hands on her knees breathing heavily from the effort.

‘Have you done?’ I asked mildly.

She didn’t answer just stood bent at the waist with her long black hair hanging down over her knees.

‘Then I will bid you good day,’ I said as I spurred the horse on and moved away from the girl. ‘By the way, you can keep the shirt I wouldn’t want to take away your dignity as well as your pride.’

‘Wait,’ she called hoarsely.

I stopped the horse and turned in the saddle to hold her with my steady gaze.

‘Yes?’ I enquired.

‘Ok, maybe I slipped a bit.’

‘You were about to fall.’

‘No I wasn’t, I was adjusting my butt.’

‘Ok, have it your way.’

I turned and spurred the mare on.

‘Alright,’ she screeched.

I stopped again and turned my gaze onto her. She was glowering and I am certain that had she been holding a gun at that moment, she would have shot me dead.

‘What?’

‘Ok, I was falling,’ she mumbled barely audibly.

‘And?’

‘And what?’

‘And what happened to stop you falling?’

She curled her lips inwards and barred her perfectly even, white teeth.

‘You saved me you bastard,’ she screamed.

I would love to have forced her into thanking me, but time was passing and I was getting tired of the game. I walked the horse back to her and reached down for her hand. We gripped each other’s wrists and she swung herself onto the mare’s back.

‘Are you secure?’ I asked mildly.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said sullenly.

I grinned, ‘are you sure you don’t want to hang on to me?’

‘Fuck off.’

After around half an hour, she reluctantly wrapped her arms tightly round my waist and leaned into my back resting her head between my shoulder blades. I couldn’t help but admire her. After all she had been through; she still found the strength and will power to sit astride a horse for a whole day apart from the couple of stops we had made. But by god, she was as stubborn and exasperating as a mule. No worse than a mule, they don’t answer back.

The sun was just going down when I found a small stream where we could camp for the night. I had kept the horse moving over rough terrain on a direct route so that I could make up ground. We had stopped at a small homestead, the only civilisation we had seen all day, and I purchased a chicken and four eggs from the Mexican owner, paying way over a reasonable price, but I considered it to be worth it in order to have a decent meal. He had thrown in a dozen flatbread tortillas as well, so I was happy to pay the price he asked.

I helped the girl down from the horse after dismounting myself. She fell into my arms totally exhausted and I could see the journey had taken a lot out of her. Despite her bravado and will power. Her injuries and exposure to the elements, had robbed her of much of her strength. I lay her down with my blanket under her head while I unsaddled the mare before wiping her down with a rough cloth I kept for the purpose. Then I unloaded my supplies from the mule and led both animals to the stream and left them to drink while I filled my can and canteen with water, one for coffee and the other for the journey. After that, I hobbled the mare close to grazing, knowing that the mule wouldn’t stray far from the horse. After checking that the girl was ok, I gathered kindling from around the trees and bushes that lined the bank of the stream and built a fire. Finally, I made a bed for the girl out of small twigs and leaves close to the fire and helped her to lay down on it after letting her drink from the canteen, then I covered her with the blanket.

Once the fire was burning well, I plucked the chicken and set it to roast on a spit, after which I made hot coffee with water I had boiled in my can. The girl lay perfectly still, though I could see she was breathing evenly and I guessed she was sleeping. I sipped my coffee, making sure I turned the chicken occasionally while studying her face. She must have pissed off Singer in a big way for him to want to get rid of her. Women as beautiful as she was, didn’t come along often and there were men who would gladly kill, simply to spend a few hours in her company. Then I thought about how she had been earlier with her damned bad ass attitude and decided that I could see his reasoning up to a point. If that was how she was when she was weak and not in good health, god knows what she must be like when she was strong and well. She was like my mare when on heat only worse and for longer. Somehow I had to dump her. She would be a danger to herself and what was worse, to me if I let her tag along. The problem was, she already knew where Singer would be and somebody as determined as she was, would find a way of getting there on her own if need be.

The chicken was just about cooked when she opened her eyes. The smell of roasting meat, no doubt, had got to her unconscious mind. Her need for revenge was certainly trumped by her need for food that was for sure. She looked at the hot browned foul on the spit and licked her lips. I removed it from the spit and placed it in my skillet where I cut big slithers of hot chicken and placed them on a tortilla which I folded and handed to the girl who was now, in a sitting position with her legs curled under her. She took it quickly without a word and attacked it with her sharp teeth. She had nearly finished it when I got round to eating mine. When she had finished, she crawled out from the blanket without seeming to care damn that the shirt had ridden up to her waist and she was completely exposed. She took my knife and cut some more slices of chicken and folded them into another tortilla. Then proceeded to demolish it where she knelt. Eventually, I managed two chicken filled tortillas, whilst she finished three and then she finished my coffee which I had only taken a few sips from. All this time neither of us had spoken a word. I was probably too shocked at her behaviour, while she was too intent on filling her belly. When she had done, she climbed under the blanket and went back to sleep. I generously put her exposure to the violence and degradation that she had suffered at the hands of Singer and his accomplices to be at the root of her behaviour rather than greed and selfishness. How wrong can one man be?

After sitting for a long time watching her sleep, I began to feel the chill in the air. I put a couple more logs on the fire. Then, after getting my spare blanket from my pack, I stepped over and, fully clothed even down to my boots, I crawled in beside her under the blankets. She didn’t object as I placed my arm across her shoulders and pulled her close to me. I could feel the heat from her back against my chest warming my chilled body. After a long time, the drowsiness overwhelmed my weary mind and I finally slept.

I rose at dawn and built up the fire, then fried the four eggs in some goose fat in my skillet. While they were sizzling in the pan I woke the girl. She crawled out from under the blanket and shivering, walked unsteadily down to the stream. When she came back, she sat down and pulled the blanket around her. I placed the pan complete with eggs, down between us and handed her a tortilla. I used my knife to cut and scoop up bits of egg into my mouth with bites of tortilla. Whilst she used her fingers to side her egg onto the tortilla and bite into both, allowing egg yolk to squeeze out and drip down onto my best shirt. She didn’t even seem to notice the mess she was making of my shirt as she finished the tortilla and filled another with egg. When she had finished she looked up, to see me staring open mouthed at her.

‘What?’ She enquired

I let my eyes drop to the yolk running down my shirt.

She looked down at the yolk.

‘Thanks,’ she said, pulling the front of the shirt up to her lips and sucking at the yolk stain, before looking back at me. ‘Are you planning on drinking all that coffee?’

I resignedly handed her my half full mug of coffee and began to understand what had drove Singer to want to be rid of this annoying female. Although I did not agree with his methods I could see his reasoning.

The mare was a big strong bay with plenty of stamina and although she could easily carry two people, I decided to ease her burden by walking for a few miles, allowing the girl to ride. I still needed to hold the horse steady while the girl mounted her, I think my horse had figured her out long before I had because she obviously did not trust the girl and tried to throw her off. However, the girl had gained much of her strength and was obviously a good horsewoman, because she gripped the mare’s flanks with her long legs and easily stayed astride. The mare, must have realised she had found someone as stubborn as she was, for she soon calmed down and allowed me to lead her with the lead from the pack mule attached to the saddle. I strode away heading south west in the general direction of Laredo.

After about a mile of walking in silence apart from the complaining of the mare. I looked up at the girl. She was staring straight ahead but I had previously, sensed her eyes on me many times as I led the horse.

‘Do you have a name?’ I said

‘Doesn’t everybody?’

‘Ok, are you going to tell me what it is?’

‘No, you can call me lady, I like that, or Maam.’

‘Are you ashamed of your name or something?’

‘No but as we aren’t exactly friends, I don’t see any good reason for you to know my name.’

‘So saving your life and cleaning you up don’t count as a friendly act?’

‘Any half human person would have done the same.’

I grimaced and found it hard to contain my temper. This woman could make Jesus Christ himself lose his temper.

‘Not without throwing up they couldn’t,’ I answered.

I looked up into her face to see her curling her lip and muttering.

‘Maybe that’s all you are suited to,’ she snapped. ‘Washing down naked girls like a maid clearing up other people’s shit. Why are you toting that gun? I doubt if you know how to use it, you would probably run away if a real man faced you down.’

‘You mean like Singer?’

‘Yes like Singer, he is likely twice as good as you will ever be. Maybe you should give me that gun and this horse and let me go after him on my own, I can leave you in the next town we come to. I’ll make sure he pays for what he did to your family. I really think you are not the man to face him or his men.’

She was trying her damnedest to annoy me with her contemptuous remarks, but I was determined that she wouldn’t get to me.

‘I’ll bear that in mind Maam, but my gun never leaves me and my horse don’t like you much, she is just tolerating you to please me.’

‘There aint a horse alive that I can’t ride, this horse is nothing to the mustangs I have ridden.’

‘Really? Ok you can take the horse.’ I handed her the reins. ‘Don’t worry about me, I can walk to the next town and buy a horse.’

She looked at me with a little consternation written on her face.

‘I’ll stay with you to the next town and leave you there,’ she said with a note of uncertainty in her voice.

‘No I’ll be fine you go. If it comes to it, I can always get rid of the pack and ride the mule.’ With that I detached the mule from the horse and slapped the mare’s rump something I knew she hated and she took off bucking and rearing like the wild animal I knew her to be. I’ll give the girl her due. She stayed astride the mare for longer than I expected. Until the horse took off at a gallop, then stopped suddenly with her front legs splayed and her head down. At the same time she kicked her hind legs in the air and bucked her ass, throwing the girl headlong into the dirt. The mare must have found some compassion from somewhere, because she would normally find some rocks to throw her rider onto, or some cactus.

I strolled over to the mare and she lunged at me with her teeth, letting me know she didn’t appreciate me slapping her rump. I backed off and she stood still looking at me with hate in her eye. We had, had this argument before and I was sure she would come round eventually.

I looked to the girl. She was lying face down with my shirt, having risen up around her waist, allowing her shapely buttocks to be on display for all to see, all being me as I was the only audience for miles around. I crouched beside her and put my hands under her armpits, then lifted her to a sitting position resting her back against my knees. I pulled the shirt down to preserve her dubious dignity before looking at her face. Apart from a graze on her forehead it was in no worse condition than it had been before. However, the arms and elbows of my shirt were torn and there was blood on the material. She must have used her arms to protect her face from the landing in the hard packed dirt. She was dazed and moaning softly. I pulled up the shirt sleeves and looked at her arms. They were badly grazed but no serious damage was done. I felt a little guilt at what I had done. But not so much guilt as to cancel out my satisfaction at knocking some of the cockiness out of her.

I removed my canteen from the horse and knelt down beside her to splash some water into her face. She came round quickly and glared at me, then she threw a punch that I tried to dodge by moving my head back, but I wasn’t quick enough and her fist glanced off my nose knocking me back onto my butt. Blood poured from my nose and down onto my only other clean shirt. I had tried hard to stay calm and be understanding of her since I had rescued her. But she was enough to make Old Nick himself plunge into the depths of despair.

‘You fucking Whore.’ I yelled as I tried in vain, to stem the blood pouring from my nose. ‘You are one crazy woman and I’ve had enough of you and your fucking stupidity. I’m leaving you here and you can fend for yourself. I wish I had never gone back to free you, you’ve been nothing but trouble since I met you, you fucking selfish, greedy whore. If I had any sense I would shoot you now before you can cause anybody else any problems. I should have put a bullet in your goddamn head the moment I laid eyes on your shitty body and put you out of your misery. Or better still I should have let the vultures and coyotes finish you off.’

‘There aint a vulture or coyote born that could finish me off, or a man for that matter,’ she screamed back. ‘You’d do well to remember that next time you piss me off.’

‘Me piss you off?’ I spluttered, spraying blood in her direction. ‘Can I remind you, you would be dead now if I hadn’t cut you loose and dragged you to the creek?’

‘Hah! Don’t make me laugh, you didn’t free me out of kindness. You saw how beautiful I am and thought you could get to me by being a hero. Well let me tell you mister, I aint the helpless female you think I am. I was just biding my time and building my strength up back there. I would have freed myself given time and gone after that bastard Singer without any help from you.’

I gaped at her unable to believe what I was hearing. She was, obviously insane of that I had no doubt. I had never in my life come across a woman as exasperating and full of false self-confidence and bravado as her.

‘Fine, I growled with my bandanna pressed to my still bleeding nose. ‘Have it your way.’

I walked to my horse and reached for the reins. She shied away and walked out of my reach. I groaned inwardly. This was all I needed. Another ornery female.

The girl had climbed to her feet and I heard her laugh.

‘Hey mister,’ she yelled. ‘You don’t have much luck with females do yah.’

I fished a piece of candy out of my pocket that I kept there for this very eventuality and held it out in my palm. The Mare snorted and sidled, nonchalantly, up to me acting as though she was doing me a favour. She allowed me to take her bridle while she snaffled the candy out of my hand. I mounted the horse and wheeled her round to pick up the lead rein from the mule before turning in my saddle to face the girl.

‘Well, I guess this is adios,’ I said smugly. ‘Keep the shirt, I doubt if you will ever see me again to return it god willing.’

As if to drive home my point, I placed my palms together in silent prayer and looked up to the heavens.

‘You won’t leave me alone in the middle of nowhere,’ she said confidently. ‘You aint the type, you are the kind of man that thinks he is some kind of hero like in them penny dreadful books, you are soft at the core and that’s why you need me when you find Singer. Without me to look after you, he will skin you alive and hang you up for the vultures.’

‘Ok,’ I said as I wheeled the mare and set off away from the girl. ‘I’ll find Singer and start without you. But if you manage to catch up in time, by all means join in.’

‘You’ll be back,’ she screamed. ‘You won’t leave me here in my bare feet and hardly any clothes, you just won’t.’

‘Watch me,’ I yelled back over my shoulder. Then I spurred the mare to a trot. As I rounded a rocky hill, she was still yelling and screaming every insult and cuss I had ever heard and some only her crazy mind could make up. Well I was well rid of her. The greater the distance I was able to put between us the happier I would be.

After about half a mile, I was feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I began to hum tunelessly. But try as I might, I couldn’t completely drive the thought of her alone and helpless, out of my mind. For despite her bravado and hard headedness, she was vulnerable and easy prey to what or whoever came across her. Besides, no matter how tough she was, she had suffered incredibly and must still be weakened by her ordeal and wouldn’t stand a chance alone without a horse or water. It was inevitable that I would sooner or later go back for her. I knew deep down that I couldn’t leave her. Still, it would do her good to let her think I had left her and maybe make her realise she couldn’t manage alone. Yeah, I thought. As if that’s gonna happen. Then I heard a gunshot and it came from the direction of where I had left the girl. She did not have a gun so it had to be somebody else who had fired the round.

I wanted to ride on and deep down, I knew it made sense to do just that. However, I knew I couldn’t leave her to fend for herself. I didn’t know what kind of hold she had over me, but if she was in danger, I needed to help her if I could crazy bitch that she was. I felt hate for her and self-loathing that I had proved her right as I turned the horse around and headed back the way I had come. She had proved me wrong, I couldn’t leave her alone after all.

The mare revelled in the high speed gallop for the quarter mile or so back to where I had left the girl. I had set the mule free and she was following as best she could. However, when I got closer I slowed the horse to a walk and then dismounted altogether. I led her behind the rocky hillock I had passed earlier. I could hear the girl screeching and cussing and men laughing as, leaving the mare, and taking my rifle with me, I climbed the hill and peered over a big rock balanced at the top.

There were three of them, Mexicans by their appearance. They had surrounded the girl and were tormenting her with knives. I could see blood running down her leg from what looked like a bullet wound in her thigh which I guessed, had been put there to help disable her and because of the wound, she was struggling to stay on her feet. They could easily have overpowered her but were obviously enjoying her torment as they goaded her. Each time one approached and slashed at the shirt she was wearing with his knife, she would lash out with her fists and he would jump back laughing. They all wore guns and there were rifles in the scabbards hanging from the saddles of their horses which were standing off to one side. My shirt was in tatters where they had slashed it and I could see blood on her body where the knives had cut her. But I was full of admiration for the girl and the way she stood up to them despite being wounded and weakened from loss of blood and her earlier ordeal. She talked up a good fight, but she could back up her words for sure. They didn’t want to kill her that much was obvious, at least not until they had finished with her.

I had just one ball and powder in my musket, then I would have to reload. From this distance, I could kill one of them easily. But that would leave the other two on guard and able to get to cover, probably using the girl as a shield before I could get off any more shots, so I decided to wait it out and see what happened. Soon they would overpower the girl and begin having their sport with her. That’s when my best chance to surprise them would come.

Eventually, the exhausted girl dropped to one knee and one of the men stepped up behind her and struck her a blow across the side of her head with his fist. She fell sideways and all three piled on top of her. I could hear her cussing as they grunted and laughed, pawing at her and tearing what remained of my shirt from her battered and bruised body. This was the best chance I was going to get.

I scrambled down the hill and silently as I could, I trotted towards the melee. I could see as I approached, that the girl wasn’t giving in to them and there was still an almighty struggle between her and the men. This was to my advantage so intent were they on satisfying their lust. I closed the distance quickly and could see that they had managed to get her onto her back and two of them were holding her arms and legs whilst the third was kneeling between her parted legs and was unfastening his pants. Good time to die, I thought as I placed the muzzle of my pistol to the back of his head. He froze with his dick in his hand, then I shot him, cocked the Remington and shot one of the remaining two before he even had time to register surprise. The third man managed to get his gun out before I put a ball into his head. The girl struggled hard to shuffle herself from under the first man who had fallen on top of her. Then lay back resting on her elbows looking up at me. She was breathing hard and was in a bad way, especially from the wound in her thigh which looked far worse than it turned out to be. I looked down at her lying naked and bloody in the dirt. She was covered in dust, much of which had stuck to the blood that clung in patches to her body.

‘We seem to be making a habit of this,’ I said mildly.

‘What?’ she said hoarsely.

‘You getting in a mess and me getting you out of it.’

‘I didn’t need you,’ she gasped breathlessly. ‘I was always in control of the situation. I drew them in and was about to fool them into thinking they had me before I made my move.’

I was in awe at the audacity of the girl. They were about to rape her and very likely kill her when they had finished, she had been completely helpless, yet she still maintained she was never in trouble and not a word of thanks left her mouth.

I turned and started to walk away.

‘Well good luck,’ I called over my shoulder as I strolled toward my horse.

‘Wait,’ she yelled.

I stopped and turned. ‘What?’ I asked.

‘Ok, I’ll admit it, I might have needed a bit of help.’

‘Yeah sure.’

I carried on walking away.

‘Ok,’ she screamed. ‘They had me, if you hadn’t come back I would have been in trouble,’ Then she added, ‘maybe.’

I walked back to the girl and looked down at her. I had never seen a woman get so filthy so often.

‘I suppose that’s the nearest I am going to get to gratitude for the two times I saved your life.’

She had laid her head back on the ground and I could see by the way her face was twisted in anguish that she was in great pain. The fact that she didn’t answer with her smart mouth, was enough to tell me she was in a bad way.

I knelt down beside her and studied the wound in her thigh. Surprisingly, it was not quite as bad as I had at first thought. The bullet had gouged a furrow about two inches long downwards from below her groin and had ended up just under the skin above her knee. At least it hadn’t gone straight into her thigh and buried itself too deep to get out. She needed proper treatment that was for sure, but we were miles from any town. The only chance was to find a homestead of some kind. The only other way was to take out the bullet myself. The hot lead was not likely to cause any infection, but there was no telling what had been carried into her flesh with it. So it needed to come out and the wound sterilised otherwise it could become infected and go bad before I could get her to any kind of help.

I lifted her as gently as I could and she groaned quietly as I held her against my chest and walked to the hill where my horse and by now, the pack mule was and would provide some shade for the girl. I laid her down as gently as I could but could tell by the way her lips twisted that she was in great pain. She opened her eyes which, until then, had been tightly closed, and looked up at my face, then she amazed me by smiling, very perceptively, at me and I took that as a small sign of gratitude. Or more likely in her case, contempt.

I needed to get the bullet out of her thigh and disinfect the wound before anything else. Luckily there wasn’t as much blood as I had first thought, which was a good sign that it had missed any vital blood vessels or anything else that could be a danger to her.

I kept a bottle of whiskey in my saddlebags. I often took the odd sip on cold nights in the open to help keep the cold at bay. I doubt that it helped, but it warmed my insides temporarily. It was the good stuff, not the rotgut that could be found cheap in saloons all over the west. Now I was grateful that I had decided to keep it. I returned to the girl with the whiskey and my blanket which I used to cover her, more effectively to keep the chill away rather than to preserve her modesty. Then I built a small fire with twigs and small dead branches I found scattered around the sparse vegetation and bushes. Having got the fire going, I poured some water to half fill my can and set it on the flames to heat. I also placed the tip of my knife blade in the flames. Taking my bandanna, I soaked it in the hot water that was heating on the fire and cleaned the area around the wound. I could see a lump where the ball was located under the skin. I poured a little whiskey onto the wound where the ball had entered causing the girl to yelp, but she gritted her teeth and held still as I looked at her. The normally golden brown skin of her face had turned pale. But she looked at me intently and I saw another, barely perceptible smile flicker across her dry lips. I took it to be her silent way of telling me she trusted me to do whatever I needed to. I took my canteen and allowed her to sip a little water as I cradled her head in the crook of my elbow before I laid her head down. I don’t know how much awareness she had of what was happening, but I hoped that her senses were at least, partially dulled. I had seen bullets removed before in the field during the war and it wasn’t a sight for the squeamish. The sound was even worse, with screams of agony going on for what would seem like forever. Luckily her wound was not as bad as most but bad enough.

At last, I was ready. I lifted her head and placed the lip of the whisky bottle to her lips gently trickling some into her mouth. The volatile liquid seared her throat and she coughed once.

‘Take some more,’ I said gently as I tilted the bottle.

She didn’t resist and swallowed some more. I hoped that if she took enough down it would help to dull the pain when I operated. She must have realised what I was about to do because she didn’t resist each time I tilted the bottle. When I thought she had had enough and there was still some left in the bottle for sterilisation, I laid her head back down. Then turned to the wound in her thigh.

‘Are you ready?’ I asked as gently as I could.

‘Get on with it,’ she replied. Her words were a slurred and I guessed she was a bit drunk.

I removed the knife from the fire and trickled whisky on each side of the blade. The whisky sizzled on the hot metal and quickly dried. Then I trickled a little more whisky onto the wound. The girl winced and allowed a small moan to escape her lips. I took a deep breath and began to dig for the bullet. The girl hardly uttered a sound apart from an odd groan and whimper as I probed with the knife. I cut into the skin all around the lead ball exposing it perfectly before trickling more whisky into the wound. The wound bled afresh and I had to keep soaking it up with my spare, clean bandanna. Not very hygienic but the best I could do. Finally I worked the tip of the blade under the bullet and eased it out. Then after trickling more whisky into the wound, I held the bandanna tightly to it to stem the bleeding. Looking at her face, I could see she was in a pretty bad way. Beads of sweat had formed on her brow and above her lip. Her eyes were tightly closed but her face was twisted in pain. I took her hand and placed it on the balled bandanna over the wound.

‘Can you press down hard on this?’ I asked.

She nodded and curled her lips inwards to form a tight line. But she held the bandanna in place and managed to stem, at least, some of the blood.

I left her and ran back to where the dead Mexicans lay. I knelt beside the nearest one and cut his shirt from his body. Then I hurried back to the girl and cut and tore the shirt into strips. After pouring more whisky onto the balled up bandanna, I tightly bandaged her thigh with the strips of shirt including the gouge where the bullet had travelled. The tightness of the bandages on the balled up bandanna stopped the bleeding. Satisfied, I turned my eyes to the girl’s face and saw that it had relaxed somewhat, but her eyes were tightly closed and there was a tenseness there in the way her brow furrowed, which suggested that she wasn’t entirely free of pain.

I covered her completely, except for her face, with the blanket and made her as comfortable as I could. Then I walked back to the three dead Mexicans, quickly going through their belongings, removing their weapons and relieving them of some silver coins. After unsaddling two of the horses and taking anything from the saddlebags I considered useful, I set them free. After that, I threw away any weapons I could not use and kept an Enfield muzzle loading rifle, a Colt 44 Army revolver and Colt 38 Navy revolver, which I planned to give to the girl if she recovered enough to use it. Next I removed the boots, pants and shirt of the tallest and slimmest of the dead Mexicans. Carrying my booty, I lead the third horse, which was a gelded Roan, back to where the girl lay, leaving the dead Mexicans where they had fallen.

She appeared to be asleep, but her face still bore the tenseness that came with pain. I needed to get her to a better place than where we were. I also needed to get away from the men I had killed. I had no way of knowing if there were more of them heading this way, but if there were, I wouldn’t have expected them to shake me by the hand for what I had done to their compatriots.

I took my canteen to the girl and knelt beside her. Raising her head, I placed the canteen to her lips, she took a little of the water and coughed. Then she lolled her head back against my arm. I lifted her head up and spoke.

‘We have to get out of here,’ I said urgently.

‘Ok,’ she answered hoarsely. But she made no attempt to move. It would take a big effort on her part to raise the energy to get up and get on a horse.

I looked into her pale, drawn face. She had gone through more than any woman would be able to endure in the last few days and no matter what her attitude, I admired her grit.

I pulled her up to a sitting position and she hadn’t even got the awareness to care that the blanket slipped down exposing her breasts.

‘Come on,’ I said. ‘I have some clothes for you and a horse, the sooner we get out of here the better.’

She simply moaned something inaudible but made no effort to move. There was nothing for it, I had to dress her myself. I took the shirt I had removed from the Mexican and managed, with a struggle, to put it around her shoulders and get her arms into the sleeves. It was tight across her chest and not easy to button up, but I thought it looked acceptable. Next, I struggled to get her legs into the pants and pull them up. I got them up as far as her hips, only then did I become aware of how much more different a woman’s shape is compared to that of a man. It was a momentous struggle to get them up over her ample hips and buttocks. I managed it eventually, but they were very tight on her ass and I wondered briefly, if they might split. However, I didn’t dwell on it, I had more pressing things to attend to, like getting her mounted on the Roan. The boots were easier to get on because they were too big for her anyway and I wondered if she would be able to keep them on. All the time I had been dressing her, she had been completely unhelpful doing no more than lolling against me as I grunted and sweated with the effort of getting her into the tight clothes. I brought the gelding over and helped her to her feet. She threw her arms around my neck and leaned against me as I dragged her close to the horse. I managed to lift her leg and get her foot into the stirrup, then I yelled at her to get up onto the horse, cussing and grunting as I held her foot in place. My yelling must have got through to her, because she made an effort to lift her other leg. As she did so, I helped her up by pushing on her rump and eventually she was mounted, leaning forwards with her head resting on the horse’s neck. After packing everything away, I tied the lead rein of the mule to the gelding and took up the reins of the gelding.

‘Can you hang on?’ I called.

She waved an arm drunkenly, which I took as an assertion that she could, so I set off heading south west.

For nearly three hours, she bravely held on. I constantly looked back at her, concerned that she would slip from the saddle and fall sideways from the horse, but she held on throughout the journey. After three hours I helped her down so that she could do what she needed to do and rest up for a spell, even then she couldn’t relieve herself without my help getting her pants down. Well, I had already gone above the call of duty for the girl so I was getting used to it by now. After she had finished I checked the makeshift bandage on her wound before, with a mighty effort, I pulled up her pants. It was bloody where the wound had seeped blood but not too bad. After a half hour I was impatient to get some distance between us and the place we had left the dead Mexicans. After a struggle I got her mounted and we set off again. At sundown, because there was nothing to make a fire with, we made a cold camp. I could see that blood was staining the pants she was wearing but it was too dark to have a good look. I decided to just let her have a good sleep and do what I could in the morning. We had been travelling nearly seven hours with only one stop and I felt nothing less than absolute admiration for the girl’s grit and determination to stay in the saddle for so long. The journey had been arduous for me, so I could only guess at how difficult, in her condition, that it had been for her.

Without a fire it was going to be cold in the night, so just as before, I covered us with two blankets and kept her warm with my body. She didn’t resist as I pressed my body close to hers. I could feel the heat coming off her through my clothing and wondered if she had a fever. However, she wasn’t shivering and slept quietly, all night.

The next morning, we drank water and ate hardtack after I had helped her again. Then, whilst her pants were down, I checked the wound. It was bloodied but without excessively bleeding which I took as not a bad sign. We didn’t linger and soon we were on our way again with the girl clinging on to the horse grimly as we travelled over rough terrain.

After nearly seven more hours with just one stop in between I was thinking about making camp again and started looking around for a suitable spot. I could see the girl was in a bad way and needed proper treatment. But I couldn’t let her carry on in her condition, not without having more rest. I planned to find water and kindling so that I could build a fire and boil water to clean the wound properly. I had been collecting buffalo chips along the way in case I couldn’t find kindling when we stopped so that I would be able to at least, build a small fire. However, there was no need, for as we came over a rise, I saw a homestead about a half mile ahead.

We were getting closer to the Mexican border and I wasn’t surprised to see that the place was owned by a Mexican couple. The house was a medium sized adobe building with an outbuilding on one side. There was a small coral with a horse, a burro and some goats enclosed inside. On the way down to the homestead, we had passed some sheep grazing on the sparse grass with a young boy around nine or ten years old watching over them.

On the other side of the shack, a spring bubbled up from the ground and formed a small brook that meandered away before disappearing into the ground again.

A man came to stand in the doorway with a woman standing behind him. I noticed that an ancient musket was leaning against the frame of the door within easy reach of his hand.

‘Buenas tardes,’ I said in my less than perfect Spanish.

‘Good day,’ the man replied.

‘Usted habla inglés.’

‘Si Señor, what is it that you want?’

‘My friend is badly hurt and needs to rest, I would be grateful if we could partake of your hospitality. I have money or I could help out around the place until she is well enough to carry on our journey.’

His eyes turned to the girl who was barely hanging on to the horse. She had slipped sideways and was about to fall.

I jumped from my horse and caught her just as she began to fall. Her legs came free of the saddle and I helped her to stay upright with my arm around her waist.

I heard the woman say something in Spanish to her husband then she came hurrying to my aid and helped me to get the girl inside the house. She directed me to a cot by a wall in an alcove that was covered by a heavy curtain. We laid the girl down on it and she lay back with her eyes closed. The woman spoke to her husband again and he went outside with a large iron kettle. After he had gone the woman turned to me and spoke in good English.

‘She is bleeding badly,’ she said as she looked at the girl’s thigh where the pants she was wearing were soaked in blood.

‘Can you help her?’ I asked hopefully.

‘I will have a look but she looks very weak and seems to have lost much blood.’

‘I will be grateful if you could do something to help her Señora.’

‘I will need to remove her clothes, please go outside and rest Senor, you look as though you need rest as much as she does.’

‘I am indebted to you Señora.’

‘Please do not expect too much Señor, she looks in a bad way and I can only try, I am not a doctor.’

‘Of course Señora, I am just grateful that you are willing to at least, try to help her.’

I wondered outside where I found the woman’s husband in a lean to where he was watching the iron kettle heat up on top of an iron stove with wood burning inside it.

‘Would you like coffee señor? I am boiling water for my wife so that she can help your friend, but there will be more than enough for coffee.’

‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘Your hospitality, humbles me and I am very grateful to you. I will go tend my horses while my coffee cools if it is all the same to you.’

‘Señor, I took the liberty of having your horses unsaddled and the pack removed from the mule. They have been watered and are now grazing at the back of the house.’

‘You have someone else working here?’ I enquired.

‘My son is out watching the sheep, but my daughter is more than capable and it was her who tended your animals.’

‘In that case she has my gratitude señor, I will see that she is rewarded before I leave here.’

‘She is tending to her chores right now, but when you see her a simple thank you will be reward enough.’

He took the kettle from the stove and hurried with it into the house. I picked up the tin mug of coffee he had made with hot water from the kettle and settled down to sit on the ground with my back against the wall of the house. I stared out across the prairie as I sipped my coffee contemplating the events of the last few days. Nothing had worked out as I had planned, the girl had made sure of that with her erratic and uncompromising behaviour. I doubt that Singer would have been so anxious to be rid of her if she hadn’t been such a pain the ass. Maybe, on the other hand, she had turned out to be someone he could not control as easy as other women. Maybe she stood up to him and that was something he wasn’t used to, especially from women.

I caught a movement in the corner of my eye and turned my head to see a young girl watching me from the far corner of the building. She quickly dodged back out of sight when she saw me look her way, but not before I had noticed that she was just a child, maybe eleven or twelve years old and my thoughts turned immediately to Lise, the girl would be around the same age as Lise. However, that’s where the similarity ended. Lise was fair skinned with blond hair, whilst the girl I had just seen had dark features with black hair. But an innocent child like my sister just the same. I prayed that she would never have to suffer anything like the fate my poor little Lise had suffered and wondered how people could believe there was a compassionate and benevolent god, when children were allowed to endure such great pain and suffering.

I must have dozed and fallen asleep, because I was awakened by a gentle touch on my shoulder and a voice speaking close by.

‘Señor! Señor!’

I opened my eyes and looked up into the face of the woman noticing, for the first time, that she was very attractive, though a little plump and probably approaching middle age whatever that meant. I put her age at around forty or so. She was holding a tin plate of hot food which she handed to me.

I took the plate and thanked her.

‘I have made your amiga as comfortable as I can señor. The wound is clean and I think, free from infection. She is not feverish so that is a good thing. She is sleeping now and seems to be free from any great pain. However, though it is none of my business. I could see that she has suffered far worse than the wound in her leg. As a woman, I can see that she has undergone considerable abuse to the area around her….’ She hesitated. Then continued.

‘Señor,’ she said slowly and deliberately. ‘I have to ask you.’

‘I found her tied down to some logs Señora. She had been badly abused and I helped her as best I could. But without your help, there was little else I could do. The answer to your question is, no, I did not do that to her.’

‘I believe you Señor, you seem very concerned for her and not at all the type of man who would deliberately hurt a woman.’

If she knew how close I had come to doing just that because of the girl’s smart mouth, she might have changed her mind about me. But on the other hand, she herself might have had her patience tested by the girl if she had had the misfortune to spend any length of time with her and her ornery mouth. I didn’t let her know how the girl had gotten the wound in her leg, letting her believe it was part of the earlier abuse she had suffered.

She turned and walked away before I could enquire further about the health of the girl. I looked down at the food I now held on my lap and saw that it was an appetizing meal of strips of chicken, potatoes, and beans, with two corn tortillas on the side. There was a clean knife on the plate to eat with. I finished the meal in quick time realising how hungry I was. I smiled as I noted how good it was to finish a meal without the girl stealing some of it.

I sat for a while after eating trying to decide what to do. The best thing, I decided, was to ride away and leave the girl here. She would be in good hands and I could pay the Mexican couple with the silver coins I had taken from the dead Mexicans, to look after her until she was well enough to travel. By then, I could be in Laredo and close to Singer.

I was so lost in thought, I failed to notice the child come out of the door of the house to stand in front of me until she spoke.

‘Señor,’ she said in a small voice.

I was startled and visibly jumped going onto the defensive immediately.

The poor child took a step back with fear in her eyes. She held a mug of coffee which shook in her small hand when startled by my actions and some of the hot liquid slopped over the side of the mug onto her hand. She offered it to me timidly with fear etched on her pretty face.

I tried to allay her fears by smiling as I took the mug from her small hand.

‘Perdóname niña’ I said, ‘I did not mean to alarm you.’ I did not know enough to complete the sentence in Spanish.

‘Es señor ok,’ she replied.

I took a sip from the mug and noticed that there was goat’s milk in the coffee which made it taste good and was a change from the bitter, black coffee I was used to.

The girl had not moved as I sipped the coffee and I looked up to her pretty face and smiled again.

‘Es bueno,’ I said pleasantly.

She smiled happily and showed her perfect teeth. I realised that she was likely, the girl who had unsaddled my horses and unpacked the mule. She looked far too small for the task, but as I didn’t believe there was another daughter around, it had to be her.

‘Did you unsaddle my horse?’ I asked with little conviction that she understood me.

‘Si señor,’ she replied.

‘You are very small for such a big task.’

She looked puzzled.

‘Que pequeña,’ I said.

She giggled and flexed her bicep like a strong man.

‘Soy muy fuerte,’ she said happily.

I laughed.

‘Yes, you must be very strong.’

I took a silver coin from my pocket and held it out to her. Her face turned serious.

‘No gracias, está bien,’ she said quietly. Then she turned and ran, on bare feet, back to the doorway where she disappeared.

I sat and drank the coffee whilst pondering over whether I had insulted the child by offering her money. The coffee was a rare treat with goat’s milk in it and I enjoyed every mouthful. Finally, I picked up the plate and knife and carried them, along with the mug into the house.

The man and the girl were sitting at a wooden table in the middle of the room. They both had empty plates before them. I could hear voices speaking in Spanish coming from behind the curtain where the girl was. I recognised her voice but she was speaking too rapidly for me to understand what she was saying and the woman answered her in equally fast, flowing Spanish. I looked down at the man, both he and the child were looking at me intently.

‘Señor,’ I said. ‘I hope I did not offend your daughter by offering her money, I just wanted to reward her for tending my horses.’

He looked at the girl and she shrugged and looked down at her plate.

‘She was not offended amigo. She has never been given money before and doesn’t even know the value of it. I hope that you were not offended by her refusal. Had you been able to offer her something she could enjoy, like candy, you would have seen real gratitude.’

The girl giggled when he mentioned candy and I remembered the lumps of sugar candy I kept to entice my horse. I kept sticks of it in my saddlebags ready to break into chunks for the mare.

I looked at the girl and smiled.

‘Where are my saddlebags señorita?’ I asked as pleasantly as I could.

She spoke in Spanish to her father, who answered her, then he directed his words to me.

‘There is a small outhouse round the back Señor. Your bags are in there with your saddles and supplies from the mule.’

‘Thank you,’ I said politely. Then I left to find my belongings.

When I returned, both the girl and her father had gone but her mother was there washing the plates we had used to eat off.

She turned to face me as I entered and smiled.

‘The meal was delicious Señora,’ I said.

‘Thank you Señor, I do my best with what little we have.’

‘I heard you talking to my friend earlier. How is she?’

‘She is sleeping again, but I believe she will recover very quickly. There is something about her that I have never seen in any woman I have met. She has a strong determination and will to push herself to tackle anything that comes her way. I believe it is the Cheyenne in her.’

‘Cheyenne?’ I repeated shocked.

‘I’m sorry Señor, I did not realise you did not know. Perhaps I should not have said.’

‘No, I am grateful that you did and it makes no difference to the relationship I have with her.’

I did not tell her that the relationship was one of enmity and an uneasy truce.

‘She thought you had left,’ the woman continued. ‘She tried to get up and go after you, but I convinced her you were still here with the help of my daughter who told her you had just offered her a shiny coin.’

‘I wanted to reward her for tending to my animals.’

‘She has no use for money Señor.’

‘Well I have some candy for her, but she has left.’

‘That is kind of you Señor, you will find her in the coral milking the goats.’

I had six sticks of sugar candy wrapped in paper, I took out three and gave them to the woman.

‘For your son Maam and maybe you could enjoy a stick yourself.’

She thanked me and I went out to the coral to find the child. When I gave her the candy, her eyes lit up and she thanked me over and over. It was a joy to see the way her pretty face lit up in sheer delight.

I wondered around the place aimlessly after leaving the girl to her milking. I knew deep down that the sensible thing would be to saddle up and ride out of there without the girl. But I felt that I had become attached to her life, having saved it twice. She attracted me to her like a nail to a magnet.

I found the child’s father toiling on a plot of land. He was turning the earth with an ancient spade ready for planting corn. Glad of the distraction from my thoughts, I took the spade from him and set to digging with a will. It reminded me of when I used to do the same work on our farm all those years ago when Lise would come out to the field with homemade bread and cheese and a jug of root beer with two mugs to drink from.

The man went back to the house, returning after a few minutes with a wooden rake and set to raking the ground that I had dug. We toiled until the sun was going down with a just a short break when the man’s daughter brought some tortillas and goats cheese and a pitcher of water. The two of us hardly spoke a word, alternately swapping tools so that I was raking and he was digging, then back again. It was back breaking work breaking up the hard soil. But it felt good to be helping these people who had offered their hospitality so willingly. Just as the sun was disappearing over the horizon, he called a halt to the work and we returned to the house.

On the way back to the house He introduced himself as Manuel Rodriguez, his wife’s name was Consuelo, his daughter, Manuela and his son, who was just herding the sheep into the coral, was called, Gerado.

We went into the house and were greeted by the smell of cooking. Manuela was helping her mother with the preparations for the evening meal. Consuelo turned and smiled.

‘There is hot water on the stove if you wish to wash up Señor.’

‘Please call me Andrew, I hope you don’t mind me calling you Consuelo?’

She looked a little embarrassed at my use of her given name and answered without looking me in the eye.

‘It is good that we can speak as friends and use first names Sen... Andrew.’

I smiled and looked at her daughter.

‘And you are Manuela, encantado de conocerte Manuela.’

The child giggled and looked down at her feet.

‘Usted también Señor,’ she replied gaily.

I smiled and left the room to join Manuel who had already gone to the outhouse to wash. The boy, Gerado was there too. They had both removed their shirts to wash in a large tin bowl and I did the same after they had finished. When I removed my shirt, the boy stared at my scarred body. I had a knife scar running from my chest to my stomach where I had gotten into a fight with a railway man who had accused me of cheating in a card game at Jefferson City Missouri. He had been the first man I had killed at close quarters and for a while the guilt had lived with me. I also had a bullet wound in my side from the raid on Lawrence. I looked at the boy and his father, who quickly turned their heads away.

‘The war,’ I said by way of explanation.

Manuel shrugged in a non-committed way.

‘A bad business mi amigo,’ he replied.

I washed and joined the others around the table to enjoy the meal that Consuelo had prepared.

‘How is my friend?’ I enquired.

‘She ate some food earlier, but she is still weak and needs rest. She wanted to get out of bed because she was afraid you would leave her. I assured her you were still here and I would see to it that you looked in on her later. I think she is sleeping again now. If so, it will be good for her.’

‘You are very kind Consuelo, you have given up your time to look after her and feed us with no thought to any problems of your own. Also my friend is taking up somebody’s bed. I will make up a bed outside in the outhouse for us both so that the bed she is using is free.’

‘It is already settled Señor. Manuela will sleep with me and Gerado will sleep with his father so that your friend can get the rest she needs.’

I knew that arguing would be futile. She was determined that the girl would get better as though she had made it her mission to make sure she did.

‘Would you like to look in on her?’ Consuelo asked. ‘It is possible she is still awake.’

‘Sure,’ I replied, though I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I would get.

I went to the curtain and pulled it aside slightly. It was dark inside the alcove, but Consuelo had come to stand by my side with a lamp. By the dim light I could see that she was sleeping. The swelling on her face had gone down but I could see that it was still slightly discoloured from the bruising, though not as bad as earlier.

‘I took the liberty of washing the clothes she was wearing,’ Consuelo said by my side.

She must have known that they were not the girl’s clothes, not only by how tightly they had fitted her, but that they were a man’s clothing. She smiled to herself before walking away with the lamp. I felt I owed her an explanation, but wasn’t sure how she would take me killing three men, even though it was done to save the girl.

‘I will go and sleep in the outhouse,’ I said, before continuing with, ‘I must check on the animals first.’

‘They have been tended to already........Andrew,’ she hesitated slightly before speaking my name.

‘Once again your efficiency precedes my hesitancy,’ I said.

‘Manuela took it upon herself to water and give hay to your animals with no bidding from me. She has tethered the mare, knowing that the others will not stray far from her.’

I was surprised that the mare would even allow the little girl to get close to her, never mind lead her to a place where she would be tethered, especially as the child was a female.

‘She must have a way with animals,’

‘Yes she has, she has a calming affect no matter how uncontrolled the animal.’

I made a bed in the outhouse and slept very well after the hard work of digging in the field. The next morning I rose just as the sun was coming up. Washed and shaved, I went into the house to find that everybody was up and out doing their chores. The boy had already driven the sheep to graze on the hillside and Manuel was in the field. Manuela and her mother were washing breakfast dishes and cleaning the small spaces around the interior of the house. Consuelo turned to me.

‘Buenos dias,’ she said brightly.

Manuela giggled and repeated her mother’s greeting.

‘Good morning, sorry I slept in, if there is any coffee going I would be grateful.’

‘Sit down, I will make you breakfast. Your friend has eaten and dressed and gone outside to try to strengthen her leg.’

I stared at her, unable to believe that the girl had made such a quick recovery.

‘Thank you Consuelo, it is hard to believe that she is strong enough to even stand let alone walk.’

‘As I mentioned earlier, Andrew, the injury to her leg is not the sole reason for her being so infirm. Her whole body is completely covered with bruises, cuts and bite marks. Besides what has happened to the area I mentioned before.’

She appeared a little embarrassed when she spoke of the girl’s womanly parts. I also, looked down in embarrassment.

‘She has suffered a very bad ordeal and the wound in her leg was the final straw that would have broken a weaker woman’s will to live and if you had not found this place where she could rest properly, I believe she could easily, have died.’

After I had eaten, I went outside with a mug of coffee. I intended to do more work around the place if I could to help pay for their hospitality. I already intended to leave them some money, but money was of little use until one or more of them could make the journey to the nearest town where they could spend it on supplies.

The girl was sitting on a makeshift seat of a split log between two tree stumps. I looked down at her upturned face and for want of something better to say I came out with an insult.

‘You look terrible,’ I said in a matter of fact way.

‘Thanks,’ she replied, ‘so do you but I will get better eventually.’

I grinned.

‘You must be feeling better, you are back to your sassy self.’

‘Takes more than a bullet wound to keep me down.’

‘More than a bullet wound was doing the job, if it had not been for Consuelo to nurse you back to health, you might not have made it. You owe her a lot, probably your life.’

She looked down.

‘I know,’ she mumbled almost incoherently.

‘What?’

‘Never mind.’

‘Did I hear you admit that you owe a debt of gratitude to somebody?’

‘Shut up,’ she snapped. ‘I’m going to walk for a bit, test my leg.’

‘Before you do’ I said.

She waited squinting at me through the glare of the sun.

‘How did the bullet enter your leg at that angle?’

She hesitated, probably deciding whether it was any of my goddamned business or not.

‘One of those men jabbed his pistol into my belly and I knocked it down with my hand. I think the sudden movement caused him to pull the trigger and the bullet went downwards into my leg.’

‘You did well to stay on your feet,’ I said complimenting her strength of will. However, she looked at me as though I had said something stupid.

‘Well it still took three of them to get the better of me.’ She said contemptuously. ‘If I had not been weakened so much, I would not have needed you to help me.’

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t,’ I agreed, deciding that to argue would be futile.

She seemed to be satisfied that I had come round to her way of thinking and climbed unsteadily to her feet. I went to help by taking a hold of her arm, but she snatched it away.

‘I don’t need help,’ she snapped. ‘I’m capable of standing on my own.’

I pulled back quickly with mock horror on my face.

‘Ok, ok, would you like me to come along so you can lean on me?’

‘No.’

I noticed that she was wearing a long white gown that reached to below her knees. Probably a night dress belonging to Consuelo. Her hair had been washed and brushed and shone in the sunlight. I noticed how strikingly black it was against the white gown. The swelling on her face had gone down and apart from the slight bruising that remained, she looked better than I had seen her since first coming across her. I could now see how beautiful she really was.

I watched as she hobbled away favouring her wounded leg, until she disappeared behind the building.

I sat down on the seat she had vacated and sipped my coffee. The morning sun was warm on my face and I began to doze. My relaxed mind floated away into sleep and pictures of my past floated into my mind. I saw Lise dancing around the barn in a white night dress that came just below her knees. As she twirled and her face came round to face me I saw that it was a bloody mask of horror and she was giggling and laughing, but the voice wasn’t hers, it was the Voice of one eyed Billy Reason. He was standing behind her forcing her to dance with strings attached to her arms and legs like a puppeteer. As he forced her arms and legs to do his bidding, he danced a jig behind her and giggled maniacally. I reached out to help her and her face changed. Instead of Lise, it was Jim Singer grinning at me. I heard myself groan and say, “No!” and I was suddenly and rudely, awakened from my nightmare by cold steel pressing against the side of my forehead and heard a gun hammer cock.

‘Do not move hombre,’ a voice growled.

I opened my eyes and my heart stopped for a moment as I saw Consuelo, her husband and two children standing about five yards away huddled together and flanked by two Mexican gunmen with pistols in their hands.

I kept perfectly still as the man holding the gun on me reached down and pulled my revolver from its holster and threw it into the dirt.

‘Where are your friends Senor?’

‘What friends?’

He smashed his pistol across the side of my face and I fell into the dirt on the ground dazed. I tasted blood as the gash high on my cheek bled and the blood ran down into my mouth.

‘Do not play games with me hombre,’ he growled. ‘You have killed and robbed three of mi Amigos. You could not have done this alone, now tell me where the rest are.’

‘They rode away and left me here because I was injured.’ I lied.

‘How many?’

‘Five.’

He grunted.

‘You are too forthcoming with your answers hombre, I think you are lying.’

I had turned onto my back on the ground and was propping myself up by my elbows. I could now, feel the flow of blood running down the side of my face.

‘I fear for my life and figure if I tell you the truth, you will let me go.’

He growled something in Spanish. I heard Consuela scream and there was a scuffle behind me. One of the other gunmen came to stand before me. He held Manuela by her hair and had a knife to her throat. I could hear Consuelo sobbing behind me and her husband pleading with them to let the child go. Manuela stood very still, but I could see the terror in her young eyes.

‘Now tell the truth Hombre or the blood of the child will be on your hands.’

My gun lay in the dirt about three feet from where I lay and I weighed up my chances of making a play for it. I figured I would be dead or sorely wounded before I could grab it, cock it and get off a shot. Besides, I feared for the life of the child. It would be impossible to kill the knifeman before he could draw his knife across the girl’s throat.

Consuelo spoke urgently in rapid Spanish behind me. After she had finished, the gunman turned back to me.

‘She says you came here with a girl, is that true?

‘A girl?’ I said incredulously.

‘Are you saying she is lying?’

‘I guess I am, I too would say anything in order to save my daughter....if I had one.’

I did not blame Consuelo for trying to save her child’s life, even at the expense of telling them about the girl. She could not know that it would do her no good. These men would go from here leaving everybody in the place dead no matter how much she told them. Of that I had no doubt.

He growled something to the man holding the child and I heard Consuelo scream, ‘No!’ The man removed the knife from Manuela’s throat before pulling on her hair then began to saw off her thick dark mane whilst the child struggled and sobbed in his grip. He was swinging the girl round with her hair as he sawed with the knife, whilst the child was screaming and sobbing.

‘Next time it will be her throat, now tell me where the girl is.’

His amigo was holding Manuela’s hair aloft and laughing as he gripped the child with his fingers pressing into the back of her slender neck. He was dancing around waving her long locks and dragging the child around by her neck like a rag doll. He was shouting something in Spanish in between guffaws. The laughter mask froze on his face when the hole appeared in his forehead and the sound of a gunshot was heard.

I was the quickest to react. I rolled on the ground and came up fast with my gun in my hand, cocking it as I rolled. I shot the leader in the part of him that was the easiest target, his stomach and he dropped to his knees moaning clutching his belly with both hands having lost his grip on his gun. I quickly turned my gun on the third man, but he had beaten me to it, he held the boy with his arm around his neck and a gun to his head. I climbed to my feet and faced him.

‘Drop the gun hombre,’ he said nervously.

‘I can’t do that.’

‘I will shoot the boy.’

‘Then you will have nothing to bargain with.’

He knew there was another gun around but couldn’t tell from which direction the shot had come and his eyes were darting everywhere. I looked directly into his eyes, but beyond him, I could make out a vision striding toward us and despite her injured leg, rapidly closing the distance between her and the gunman. A vision in white with long black hair, looking like an angel of death a she stopped a few yards behind the man and in one fluid movement, raised the Enfield rifle to her shoulder, squinted down the barrel and squeezed the trigger, putting a bullet into the back of his head before he even knew she was there. He dropped to the ground without a sound, the front of his head shattered and bloodied.

Consuelo hugged both of her children to her and all three were sobbing uncontrollably. Manuel was staring fascinated, at the two dead men and the third, their leader who was lying on his side clutching his stomach.

I ushered the family into the building as gently as I could. The girl had sat down on the seat she had been sitting on earlier. She was exhausted and was breathing heavily.

‘You took your time,’ I said.

‘I couldn’t get a clear shot, I was afraid I would hit the child.’

‘Or me?’ I asked lightly.

‘No, I wasn’t concerned about hitting you.’

I looked at her face to see that it was twisted with pain.

‘How you feeling?’ I asked concerned.

‘I’ll be ok, I set my leg bleeding trying to close the distance before that man saw me.’

She pulled up the nightdress to reveal her thighs and the blood soaked bandage covering her right one.

Consuelo appeared in the doorway. She had a look of anger, mixed with confusion and sorrow on her face.

‘I will tend the wound on your face Andrew, then you must go,’ she said angrily. ‘You have brought death with you and my daughter’s life has been threatened as well as my son’s. She is lying on her bed terrified that more bad men will come. She was so proud of her beautiful hair, now she is shorn and looks like a boy.’

She boiled water and washed the cut on my face with a cloth. It wasn’t too deep a gash and would probably heal without even leaving a scar. While she was cleaning the wound, I spoke to her as kindly as I knew how.

‘We will be out of here as soon as we can Consuelo. I cannot apologise enough for what you and your family had to endure. All I ask is that you nurse my friend and make her strong enough to travel while I dispose of these men. I need to take them far away from here so that they cannot be linked to this homestead and put you in further danger.’

She looked at me for a long time weighing up the options. She must have realised it made sense to take the bodies far away from the casa. We could have buried the bodies close by, but if there were more of them they would, sooner or later come across this place and then the family would be in danger. Better to take the bodies back to where they had found their dead compatriots and leave them there. Any more of their amigos coming across them, would think they had been wiped out by a small army of desperados with no association to the Mexican family trying to make a living in this desolate place.

Consuelo agreed coldly, that it made sense and had the girl enter the casa so that she could tend to her wound. Then she turned to me and spoke.

‘I am sorry that I must ask you to go Senor, but I must think of my family. I think you are a man who brings trouble and death with you and I cannot harbour such a man as yourself and from what I can see, your friend is no better, the way she coldly shot that man was horrific and reckless, that man could so easily have shot my son.’

‘I hate to have tell someone as gentle and trusting as yourself the true facts of life Consuelo, but had the girl not shot that man and he had been allowed to live, he would likely, have taken your son with him and shot him anyway once he didn’t need him. The girl did the only thing left open to her to ensure your boy had a chance. Also if that man had friends close by he would have brought them back here and made sure you paid for helping us.’

I didn’t wait for her to answer. She knew what I had said made sense. However, I could also sympathise with her stance against killing. But this was a country coming to terms with the aftermath of the war and there had been much enmity and mistrust between supporters of each side. This had left a legacy of murder and brutality with shootings being in part, a way of life. Therefore, lawlessness was rife with many men willing to kill to get what they wanted. In such an atmosphere of mistrust and killings, it was little wonder that men carried weapons and were prepared to use them to defend themselves and if need be, their families.

‘I will be two days at the most Señora. By then, I hope that the girl will be strong enough to travel, then we will gone.’

She shot me a final cold look and disappeared inside. When she had gone, I quickly strode to the gut shot man and crouched close by him. He was wheezing and moaning softly.

‘How you doing?’ I asked casually.

He uttered a strangled cry.

‘I am dead Señor, you have killed me in the worst possible way.’

‘Would you like me to finish it?’

‘I would,’ he gasped, then another strangled sound came from his lips as he grimaced with pain.

‘Tell me what you and your amigos were doing around here and why were you meeting those other men?’

‘Please Señor I am in great pain,’ he whined.

‘I can take away your pain, just tell me why six heavily armed men were riding this part of the country.’

He let out another strangled cry. Then seemed to come to a decision, speaking slowly, his words interjected with small cries of pain.

‘We were to meet a wagon and guard it from back there down to Laredo.’

‘What does the wagon carry?’

‘I truthfully do not know Señor. But it must be something valuable, there were to be another dozen or more men guarding it besides us.’

‘Ok, where were you joining up with it?’

‘At the place where you killed my compatriots.’

‘When?’

‘In two days’ time. Please Señor, I know no more and I am in great pain.’

I bent to place my hands under his armpits and dragged him away from the main house. It was obvious from his cries that dragging him that way was causing him even greater pain but I needed to get him away from the house out of earshot. When I had dragged him as far away as I thought necessary I removed his jacket and shirt and wrapped them around my gun to help muffle the sound. Then I placed the muzzle of the gun to the back of his head and shot him dead.

I found their horses about three hundred yards or so away from the back of the house where they had left them to sneak up on us undetected. I was angry with myself for being so sloppy and leaving us vulnerable to attack. I was normally over vigilant to the point of being aware of even cockroaches sneaking up on me.

After a struggle, I loaded all three men onto each of their horses and draped them face down over their saddles lashing them down with their own ropes. After filling my canteen and getting coffee and beef jerky from my pack, I saddled my horse and set off leading the procession of horses and their lifeless riders and heading back the way the girl and me had come. I didn’t look back nor had I said farewell when I rode away from the place.

I made quicker time than when I had to worry about the girl. But it still took the best part of a full day to get back to where the other gunmen were. They still lay where I had left them apart from one of them having been turned onto his back. I guessed the other three had been checking on their identities. It would have been natural behaviour to turn over a face down body to see if it was someone they knew.

I lay the other three down in various poses to make it look as though they had fallen under a hail of bullets. Then I stripped them of their guns and ammunition and any valuables they had, before removing the saddles and bridles from the horses, keeping their canteens of water and setting them free.

I had the urge to stick around and spy on the wagon and guards when they arrived here. But decided it made sense to put as much distance between me and what had happened here as I could. I knew now that they would be heading for Laredo and guessed that the heavily guarded wagon must contain the gold bound for Mexico that Singer was after.

The sun was going down as I rode away heading back towards the homestead. I decided to travel for a couple of hours into the night before making camp. There was no moon which made it hard going and eventually, I decided to stop, there was no point in trying to find my way in the dark, it would be too dangerous for the mare and if I couldn’t ride, then neither could anybody else. I found cover near some rocks and made cold camp. I climbed under the blanket after giving the horse some water and drinking some myself. Then I chewed on some jerky for a while, before I settled down to sleep.

I rose at sunup and carried on my journey arriving at the homestead by early evening. I waved to the boy who despite his ordeal, had gone back to tending sheep. Life must go on I opined, no matter what.

I dismounted and removed my saddle and bride allowing the mare to find her own water and grazing. She was exhausted and wouldn’t stray far.

The girl came out of the house and stood looking at me with a mixture of relief and puzzlement written on her face.

‘I was sure you wouldn’t come back,’ she said quietly.

‘I thought about riding away, but remembered my pack mule was still here so I had to come back.’

She smiled properly for the first time since I had known her and her face lit up with natural beauty.

‘If you really wanted to go on, a pack mule wouldn’t stop you. I know why you really came back.’

‘Oh, and I just know you can’t wait to tell me.’

‘You came back for me, you cannot do anything without me to keep you out of trouble, I saved your life yesterday and you need me. Admit it.’

I could not believe what I was hearing. It was true she had saved my life. But if I had not saved her in the first place and on two occasions I would not have ended up here with her and would have been far away by now. I was too dumb struck to come back with a suitable answer, so I simply said...

‘Sure.’

‘Hah!’ she said. ‘I knew it, you are crazy about me. You just don’t know how much yet.’

‘Was Singer crazy about you? Is that why he did what he did?’

At the mention of Singers name her face contorted into a mask of hate.

‘The reason that bastard did what he did was because he was crazy about me and because he could see how much I despised him, he decided that if he couldn’t have me, nobody would have me. But he made sure I was humiliated and made to suffer at the hands of his men before I was left to die. His mistake was not realising how tough I am and I managed to escape from the ropes and what he had tried to make me endure.’

‘I don’t suppose you might have had a little help in escaping.’

‘Well yeah, you helped, but I would have gotten away all by myself given time.’

‘Given time you would have been dead.’

Before she could answer with another of her smart remarks, Consuelo came to the door. It was obvious that she had at some point in her life, received a decent education. She was the dominant partner in the marriage and the one who made the decisions.

‘It is late Senor so you can stay one more night. But you must leave in the morning, I fear if you stay longer more bad things will happen here.’

Before I could answer, the girl turned to Consuelo and spoke rapidly in fluent Spanish. Apart from the odd word, I didn’t understand what she said. Consuelo answered in equally rapid Spanish, then went back inside.

‘What did you say to her,’ I asked the girl.

‘I told her I would sleep outside so that the child could have her bed back. But she said that Manuela is terrified to sleep alone now after what happened. So it really doesn’t matter that I have her bed.’

‘Ok, maybe one more night in a bed will help you get stronger for the journey.’

A broad grin lit up her beautiful face showing her perfect teeth.

‘You don’t mean that, you just cannot wait to be alone with me can you?’

I groaned, but before I could answer, Consuelo’s voice called out from inside.

‘Por favor, ven en el interior,’ I have prepared a meal for you both.

The girl looked me in the eye, she was nearly as tall as me. Then she smiled sweetly and spoke.

‘Chameli.’

‘What?’

‘My name, Chameli. It is Cheyenne for flower and my second name is Gonzales.’

I was surprised as always by her sudden change of mood.

‘It is a beautiful name,’ I replied gently. ‘Does this mean you no longer mistrust me?’

‘I have always trusted you. You are a fool, but a gentleman all the same.’

‘Am I to take that as a compliment?’

‘You can take it any way you like, I don’t care.’

I saw she still wore the white nightdress as she turned and went inside. There were two plates of hot food on the table and we ate alone. There was no sign of the man and woman, or their children. I guessed that Consuela didn’t want to taint them by letting them get close to us.

I watched Chameli devour her meal in double quick time. I had never seen a girl eat like she could. She never spoke a word as she concentrated on her eating, tearing at strips of chicken with her strong teeth and scooping up beans onto a tortilla and stuffing it into her perfect mouth, allowing some juice to drip onto the white nightdress she wore in the process.

When she had finished she belched loudly then looked up to see me staring at her. She stared back and arched her brows.

‘What?’ she asked.

I regained my composure.

‘You don’t look or act like a Cheyenne.’

‘My mother was part Cheyenne and part German. My father was Mexican. My father abandoned my mother before I was born and she returned to her tribe. She died giving birth to me and I was raised by the Cheyenne until I was fifteen and eligible for marriage. I ran away and joined up with an army garrison at Fort Leavenworth Kansas as a scout. I had learned to ride and shoot with the Cheyenne, I refused to do what Cheyenne women do, even though I received many beatings for rebelling. I impressed them because I took the beatings and even fought back, giving as good, as I received. They allowed me to join in with hunting parties I was able to shoot and ride better than any of the Cheyenne boys, hell, I was bigger than most of them anyway. Well, they either had to accept me as a hunter or banish me from the tribe. Luckily, they knew a good thing when they saw it.’

I noted a twinkle in her dark eyes when she spoke the last bit. I couldn’t tell whether what she was telling me was the whole truth or if it was just fantasy on her part. One thing was sure, she could ride and she could shoot as well as any man I had met. The way she put a bullet into the head of the gunman who had me covered from where she had been hiding was unbelievable shooting, especially with an unfamiliar rifle and it did not seem to bother her to kill a man. Even so, it was hard to believe that the army would take on a fifteen year old girl as an Indian scout.

‘I am surprised the army took on a girl as a scout.’

‘I had to prove myself before they would accept me and soon they came to realise that I was better than any Indian scout they had. If they wanted the best, they needed to hire me, nobody else was anywhere near good enough.’

‘Your modesty becomes you,’ I said with a grin.

‘I just tell it like it is.’

‘Where did you learn to speak English so well?’

‘From an English woman who lived with our tribe. She came from England nearly forty years ago to learn about the original inhabitants of America and to teach them about your god. Instead she turned to the Indian culture and married into the tribe. She was very well educated and because I am so intelligent, she took me under her wing and educated me. Learning how to speak English was just one of the things I found easy to master.

‘Self-assurance is another I think.’

‘I am self-assured because I am better than anybody I know.’

I smiled and wondered if all her bravado was just a way to cover her own self-doubt or confusion about herself. She would never admit to being vulnerable, yet in her demeanour and certain things she said, I caught glimpses of a frightened child. She was proud though and would never admit to needing anybody’s help or concern for her. She treated kindness with suspicion and compassion with contempt.

I asked how one young girl alone with all those soldiers was able to cope. That was when she clammed up. Simply saying that it was a part of her life that did not concern me and she did not want to talk about it.

‘But in case you are wondering,’ she said. ‘I was not subjected to abuse of any kind.’

It was as though she had read my mind.

‘That’s not what I was thinking,’ I lied.

‘Ok,’ she said. ‘We’ll leave it at that.’ Then she added. ‘But that is, exactly, what you were thinking.’

When the family came back, I left immediately not wanting to cause any anxiety to the children. I gathered up my bed roll and went to settle down in the outhouse making sure I had my revolver and rifle to hand just in case.

TEN

It was long after sunup when we rode away from the smallholding. I could feel the eyes of the family group on our backs as they watched us out of sight. Neither Chameli nor I looked back, we had gone from being welcomed to being shunned. I think, neither of us blamed them for that.

Consuelo had cleaned the girl’s leg and reapplied the bandage before Chameli had dressed again in the clothes from the dead gunman. She seemed much stronger than she had been since I first discovered her, although I was sure she wasn’t yet back to her normal strength. She had the Colt 38 Navy revolver stuck in her pants and a knife I had taken from a gunman, hanging from her belt. The Enfield rifle was in a scabbard strapped to her saddle. She rode the horse easily and confidently, but I was sure the movement was causing her a lot of pain.

After around an hour of riding in silence with me taking the lead, Chameli reined her horse alongside mine.

‘What’s the plan?’ She said impassively.

I looked at her with amusement obviously written on my face.

‘What’s the plan?’ I asked.

‘Yes you must have a plan, we need to get to the gold before Singer does.’

‘Do we?’

‘Of course we do, that is my gold and I am not going to stand back and let Singer or anybody else take it from me.’

‘I thought it belonged to the Mexican Government.’

‘Well it does, for now. But Singer intends to take it before it reaches Mexico using my plan. I put my life at risk to find out about that gold and I’m not going to let some two bit excuse for a man take it away from me.’

‘So this is about the gold, not getting revenge for what he did to you.’

‘Don’t you see, if we get the gold before he does, that will hurt him more than anything else.’

‘No it won’t. When I get him alone, gold will be the last thing on his mind. He will be begging me to kill him same as his partner Billy did.’

I looked at her and saw the alarm that briefly, registered on her face when she heard the anger and menace in my voice. Then she quickly regained her composure.

‘Ok, I can understand how you feel, I feel the same about him. But if you help me to get the gold, I will give you a share, maybe as much as twenty percent, how’s that? Then when we have the gold we can go after Singer.’

I had long ago ceased to be amazed at the audacity of the girl. So I just looked her in the eye and grinned.

‘That is very generous of you,’ I said sarcastically. ‘A whole twenty percent for going up against maybe as many as twenty or more armed men. I am just amazed at how considerate you are.’

Her eyes blazed with anger as she glared at me. She fought hard to regain her composure again, but finally got her temper under control.

‘Ok,’ she said. ‘Thirty percent.’

‘What’s to stop me taking it all for myself?’

‘Me.’

I grinned at her letting her know that what she said didn’t warrant an answer.

‘Well, if you want to go after the gold, that’s your business. I’m going to do what I set out to do in the first place.’

She didn’t answer and dropped back to ride in sullen silence for the next couple of hours or so.

We made camp near a stand of trees where there was plenty of wood kindling close to the bank of a small creek. After allowing the animals to drink, we unsaddled them and removed the pack from the mule, before setting them to graze on good area of grass land, hobbling the mare as a precaution.

I built a fire with some small twigs and branches and straw whilst Chameli gathered arms full of bigger logs. Then I set to boil water for coffee. The girl had gone off somewhere and I guessed at the time it was to attend to her personal needs. So I was surprised when she came back clutching a dead wild turkey by the neck.

‘Well,’ I said trying not to sound too surprised and pump up her ego even more than it was, as if that were possible. ‘I guess you have some uses after all.’

She gave me one of her rare smiles and I was struck once again by the whiteness of her near perfect teeth.

‘I have more uses than you could ever know mister and I don’t mean as a woman. Even though being beautiful has its uses.’

I noticed that she still didn’t address me by my given name even though she had been within earshot when Consuello had used it.

‘Well, there is one person who loves you more than anything in the world,’ I said quietly.

She suddenly looked at me intently, her dark eyes bright, reflecting the flames of the fire.

‘Oh, who would that be?’

‘You,’ I said sardonically.

She smiled knowingly as she plucked the turkey.

‘I have to love myself, it’s the only way I can survive. But I have seen the way you look at me since I have gotten better. I know you want me and it hurts you because I don’t want you.’

I looked at her dumfounded, could she get anymore self-important?

‘Lady, after washing all the shit and piss and god knows what else from your body, the idea of going there again, doesn’t exactly fill me with desire.’

Oh lawd, that hit a nerve. She glared at me with something akin to hate in her dark eyes. Then threw down the half plucked turkey, growled something in Spanish which I guessed wasn’t complimentary to me and stormed off into the trees.

‘I’ll finish plucking the turkey then shall I?’ I yelled to her departing back.

‘Fuck off,’ she yelled in reply. Then came out with another tirade of Spanish words that I had never heard before and probably wouldn’t want to understand their meaning anyway.

The turkey was on the spit and roasting nicely as I sat sipping my second mug of steaming hot coffee. She must have been gone nearly an hour. But the woods were down wind of the fire and the smell of roasting turkey would be riding on the breeze and into the trees. If anything could bring her out, it would be the smell of food. That girl loved food almost as much as she loved herself. I had just sliced a good chunk of turkey and was wrapping it in a tortilla from a stack that Consuelo had given us before we left, when, sure enough she appeared from the trees and approached the camp.

By the time she reached me, I was well into my turkey and tortilla.

‘Who said you could eat my turkey?’ She demanded.

‘The same one who said you could eat my rabbit and beef jerky.’

I could sense her glaring down at me as I carried on eating and sipping my coffee and I guessed she was trying to think of something smart to counter with. I had noticed during my time with her, that she would gnaw at the inside of her cheek with her teeth when she was anxious or angry and I could picture her doing that now with her lips pulled to one side as she tried to bite at it.

‘Well you could have waited at least, until I came back,’ she said sullenly.

‘I like my turkey hot, if I had waited it would have gone cold.’

She pulled out her knife and crouched by the turkey, where I had placed it on some flat stones close to the fire. She sliced a hefty chunk and tore off a huge mouthful with her sharp teeth. Then, without a by your leave, she took my half full mug of coffee from my hand and went with it and her turkey to sit on the opposite side of the fire. I could see she was still angry by the way she glared, unwaveringly at me as she ate her meat and drank my coffee.

I got another mug from the pack and emptied the last of the coffee into it.

‘Why don’t you ever pour your own coffee?’ I asked.

‘Because you do it so much better,’ she replied sarcastically. Then added, ‘probably the only thing you are any good at.’

I grinned at her.

‘Are insults the only answer you have when you don’t get your own way?’

‘Shut up.’

We sat in silence for a long time while I watched her devour half the turkey and finish off what was left in my second mug of coffee. Then we turned in on opposite sides of the fire.

The next morning we both washed in the creek and did what we had to do. I filled four canteens with water and after packing the mule and saddling up, we mounted our horses and moved out heading south west. I figured we would get to Laredo by sometime that afternoon or early evening.

The girl seemed to be in better spirits, at least she was no longer glaring at me with murder in her eyes; now it was just a mild hatred.

We rode in line as before, with me taking point with the mule in tow and her riding drag behind the mule. Despite her shows of bravado, Chameli somewhat surprisingly, seemed to accept that I would lead and made no objection to the order of procession.

We rode for the best part of the day in silence stopping just once to finish the now, cold turkey and rest for a while. Finally in the late afternoon, we came upon the Rio Grande River a few miles south of Laredo. We waited until dark before following the River north to Laredo. If Singer or any of his men were there they would recognise the girl for sure, she stood out like a beacon. We would stand a better chance of not being seen at night. But just to be sure, I gave her my hat to wear. With her thick mane of hair tucked up inside it and because it was night she could be taken for a man in the clothes she was wearing. During the day it would be a different matter. The way those pants stretched tight across her shapely butt and even with her breasts flattened with binding, nobody could fail to see she was a woman.

We entered the town from the south. It was busier than I had expected with many people going about their business. There were a lot of Ranches in the area of Webb County and the town of Laredo was benefiting from them.

There were saloons and cantinas around and most of them were busy, so we steered clear of them, riding north along the main street until we came across a small Mexican adobe cantina that seemed to be very quiet with few or no customers. We had not attracted any attention as we rode through the town. As far as observers were concerned, we were just two more cattle men coming in for a drink, nothing unusual.

Chameli waited with the horses while I went in. Singer, if he happened to be here, was less likely to recognise me after all these years and with my changed appearance, than the girl.

The inside of the cantina was lit by only a couple of lamps. There were just two people sitting at one of the three tables, both Mexican men with a bottle and two glasses sitting on the table between them. At the far wall was a small bar, behind which, what looked like a small kitchen. There appeared to be no threat so I opened the door and beckoned the girl to come in. She took a seat at a table in the corner where it was darker while I went to the bar.

We ate a thick and delicious stew which consisted of goat meat, corn, carrots, squash and sweet potatoes amongst the ingredients I could recognise. After which we drank root beer. We discovered that there was a room to rent at the cantina but with only one bed which we took. We decided that it would be for the best if Chameli stayed at the cantina while I found a livery for the horses and had a look around the town just in case Singer and his bunch were around. I got our saddlebags and rifles from the horses and took them to the room, where I left the girl once I had taken back my hat from her. I suggested that she might attract attention without the hat to hide her hair, even in a darkened corner. Which persuaded her to decide to stay in the room until I returned; if I had demanded that she stay, she would have defied me. I was finally beginning to figure out how to handle her.

I found a good livery for the horses, then went in search of a saloon where I might be able to get some information. I entered the first lively saloon I came across and walked straight to where about a dozen men were lined up along the bar, most of them looked like cattlemen with a few of them dressed in traditional Mexican clothes. I ordered a beer and turned my head to survey the room. There were a dozen or more tables, many of them with card players, but there was no sign of Singer or anybody I knew. So I stood at the bar and had two more beers while listening to the conversation around me. After around an hour and half, I had learned nothing and was about to leave when there was a commotion at one of the tables where five men had been playing cards. Two men had leapt to their feet and were facing each other with guns in their hands, it was a face off, but I could see that both men were nervous having got themselves into a situation they now appeared to wish they hadn’t. Any animosity they may have had towards each other was now replaced by uncertainty. I couldn’t help thinking that if it had been me in that situation, I would have shot at the other man before he could shoot me. I cannot remember a time when I have drawn my revolver and failed to use it.

I watched with mild interest as they faced each other. Neither of them were gunfighters that was obvious, otherwise they would have used their guns as soon as they had drawn them. One of the other men at the table took the heat out of the situation by speaking calmly to both men, telling them that they could work out their differences by talk and not gunfire. He talked them into lowering their pistols and sitting back down and I could see the relief in their faces as they did so. However, the little drama that had played out in front of me had delayed my exit from the saloon just long enough to change the course of my life and alter my destiny.

I walked towards the bat wing doors of the saloon and just as I reached them, two men entered through the doors. The one in front was a burly man who barged into me as he came through the doors, it was Singer and as soon as I recognised him I impulsively pulled my gun cocking it as it left the holster and shot him in the gut. Surprise registered on his face just before he went down just like his brother had, making a thudding sound on the wooden floor as he fell. I had already turned my gun on the other fellow, one I didn’t recognise and he raised his hands away from his gun to show he had no intention of joining the fight. Singer was lying on his side groaning and holding his gut. I was about to step over him and get the hell out of there when I felt the hard steel jab me in the back between my shoulder blades.

‘Drop the gun mister,’ a voice said behind me. ‘This here’s a shot gun and at this range, will blast you into ribbons if you wanna try to use it again.’

I had no choice, there was no way out so I dropped the revolver and was immediately seized by two men while the third held the gun in my back. I was marched through the doors and taken to the courthouse jail.

It turned out that the sheriff and two of his deputies had been at the table where the dispute had taken place and the sheriff had been the man who had calmed both men down. It was also he who had held the shotgun to my back and had me arrested.

I cursed Singer for entering the saloon at that moment. I never wanted to shoot him, I had had a worse fate in store for him. It had been the surprise of coming face to face with him. I just acted instinctively and because of that I was sentenced to ten years in the state penitentiary at Huntsville Texas for attempted murder.

ELEVEN

I served less than seven years in Huntsville, I had my sentence reduced for good behaviour after becoming a model prisoner.

In April 1873 I walked out of the prison with my Remington pistol and the clothes I wore when I had entered there. They had given me a small amount of money and a rail ticket then told me that from thereon in I was on my own.

During my time in Huntsville I had heard many rumours many of which I was assured were true.

Singer was still alive but in poor health, was one rumour that cheered me up and made me more determined to get out as early as possible. Another one, was that Singer’s men had made a play for the Mexican gold without him at a ford on the Rio Grande north of Laredo. They had tried to ambush the wagon as it crossed the river. Unknown to them, there had been a large unit of Mexican soldiers waiting under cover on the opposite bank. Singer had recruited another six gunmen for the operation and all ten had been killed including Frank Davey and Chad Blackthorne. That left just Jim Singer still alive of the four men who had violated my family. I had no doubt that Singer himself had been the one who plunged that knife into my sister and left it there while the life drained out of her, dying in the most awful, painful and undignified way possible.

I thought of the girl Chameli, a lot while I was in prison much as I tried not to. She was like an itch that you couldn’t quite reach and it irritated the hell out of me. Whenever I eradicated her from my mind, something would happen or I would see something like a drawing of a girl with long black hair and she would come creeping back into my mind and even after nearly seven years, the image of her was as vivid as ever. I never discovered what had happened to her after my arrest. I hoped that she had moved on and hadn’t got involved in the ambush on the gold wagon. Maybe by now, I thought, she is probably married with kids.

When I walked through the gate and saw her waiting for me, I was undecided whether to turn round and ask the prison authorities to lock me up again, or just turn and run away as fast and as far as I could.

I stopped and stared at her, she had hardly changed except for the better. There were no longer any marks or bruises on her perfectly clear skin. Her hair shone like ebony in the sunlight and she was smiling, showing her perfect teeth, with her dark eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun. She wore a white blouse tucked into an ankle length, loose, cotton skirt and she wore moccasins on her feet. On her hip was a holster housing a gun, I could not see the make or the calibre but I had no doubt she knew how to use it. She held the reins of two horses one of which was my mare, the other was an Appaloosa gelding. There was also a fully laden pack mule.

‘You took your time,’ she complained. ‘I’ve been waiting two hours for you to come out, if I had known you were going to take so long I would have gone somewhere for some food and a drink.’

My heart told me that seeing her standing there, tall and beautiful was the culmination of all my desires. But my head told me I should steer clear of her. She was trouble and would bring me nothing but grief. Already she was complaining and I groaned inwardly as I realised nothing had changed. I didn’t understand why she would be here anyway. The men who had raped and tortured her were dead apart from Singer and from what I heard, he was in a bad way.

‘Why are you here?’ I asked. ‘You don’t owe me anything and I don’t owe you anything.’

‘I brought your horse, she’s getting a bit long in the tooth now but I looked after her for you.’

‘You came here just to return my horse?’

‘No, not just to return your horse, I know how much you must have missed me so I thought I would give you a treat and bring myself here as well.’

‘Thanks,’ I said curtly. ‘Then I won’t detain you, I’ll take my horse and we can go our separate ways.’

I reached for the mare’s bridle and she lunged at me with her teeth. She hadn’t changed either, what the hell was it about females and me? Well I had no candy to keep her sweet so she would have to get used to me without a reward. After a lot of wheeling around on the mare’s part and cussing on my part, I finally got mounted. She tossed her head a bit but settled down after a small protest and reminding me that she wouldn’t comply easily.

‘Well thanks again,’ I called to the girl as I turned the horse and walked her away determined that I wouldn’t turn my head to take one last look much as I was tempted and god knows I wanted to. As I rode away she said nothing more and I guessed she had finally got it into her head that I did not want her with me. After a while I heard her call out.

‘Wait,’ she said as she rode up alongside me. ‘I’m going your way and I have enough supplies for two.’

She was now wearing a Sombrero and her long hair flowed down her back from beneath it. She had pulled her skirt up to her thighs to make it easier to sit astride the horse and her long brown legs and moccasin clad feet were dangling free Indian style with no stirrups.

‘You don’t know which way I am going.’

‘Well whichever way it is, that’s the way I’m going.’

‘What is it you want?’ I growled. ‘There is no reason now, for us to be together. We don’t owe each other a thing, we are even. You can go your way and I can go mine.’

‘Singer is still alive.’

‘I know, but I no longer have the will to go after him, it’s over. Anyway, from what I hear, he is in a bad way and suffering a lot of pain because my bullet is still in his gut, so I got my revenge and now I just want to move on.’

‘Ok, so what are you going to do now?’

‘I’m going back to Missouri, my family’s farm is still there I hope and I’m going to lay claim to it.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘What the hell for?’

‘Because you want me to.’

‘Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve said?’

‘Sure, but you don’t mean it, I know you cannot live without me and you know that too if you are honest.’

‘I do not want you with me, you are nothing but trouble and if I know you like I think I do, you have your own selfish reasons to want to be with me.’

‘You need me.’

I stared at her with what must have been disbelief written across my face.

‘Why the hell would I need you?’ I blustered. ‘I managed fine before I met you, I came through four years of fighting in the bloodiest battles this country has ever known, I have come up against some of the toughest gunmen in the west and managed to keep myself out of trouble. Then I met you and my whole life fell apart. I spent seven years in prison because of you. You nearly ruined my life and now you want to finish the job.’

‘That’s why you need me, only a fool would shoot a man down in cold blood in front of the sheriff and his deputies, then allow them to arrest him. You need me to keep you in check, otherwise you will go off half-cocked and end up in jail again.’

I stopped my horse and stared at her for a while, then decided that my original assessment of her had been correct, she was completely insane.

‘Adios lady,’ I said as I spurred the mare on. ‘Thanks for bringing my horse. I hope you have a good life, but stay the fuck away from mine.’

Still she came after me, her horse keeping pace with mine.

‘Ok,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell the truth.’

I didn’t look at her as I replied.

‘Well that will be a first for you.’

‘This is hard for me.’

‘If you are about to say something truthful, I imagine it is not only hard, but completely unnatural.’

‘You don’t deserve me the way you talk, as though I am some kind of selfish crazy woman.’

‘You got that right, I don’t deserve you. I have wondered over the last seven years what I could have done wrong to deserve being burdened by you.’

She rode beside me for a while gnawing on the inside of her cheek with her teeth. Then she spoke.

‘Alright,’ she snapped. ‘I owe you my life, there I’ve said it.’

I was surprised to hear her admit that she could possibly owe anybody anything. But nothing she said really came as a shock because there was always a reason behind her actions and anything she admitted to, was always designed to be advantageous to her.

‘We are quits,’ I dismissed. ‘Now we can go our separate ways.’

‘No really, I have had a lot of time to think about it and if you had not taken the time to save me, you would not have been in the situation with those gunmen anyway, even though my superior shooting skills saved you from certain death.’

I grinned. Nope, she hadn’t changed one bit.

‘Well like I said, that makes us even. You owe me nothing, so you go your way and I’ll go mine.’

‘Well,’ she smiled. ‘I just happen to be going the same way as you, so we might as well keep each other company.’

I halted my horse and turned in the saddle to face her.

‘Can’t you get it into your head, I don’t want you tagging along. Don’t make me shoot you.’

‘You won’t shoot me. If you did that, everything you have done with me, saving my life twice, and spending all that time in prison would all count for nothing. Anyway, haven’t you realised yet how much I mean to you? You can’t tell me you did not wonder about me while you were in prison.’

No I couldn’t tell her that because then she would have an advantage over me. I could not tell her that I thought about her every single day I was locked away in that place. I could not tell her that my heart nearly beat itself out of my chest when I came out of the prison and saw her standing there, tall and beautiful, but probably, the most dangerous person I had ever met. Of course she was right. I would not shoot her even if it was a normal thing to do. How could you shoot someone you are crazy in love with.

I sighed resignedly and walked my horse on.

‘Stay out of my way,’ I growled.

She fell in behind me and we headed northwest. After about fifteen minutes of riding in silence, the girl called out.

‘Where are we heading?’

I turned in the saddle.

‘I don’t know about you lady, but I’m going to Madisonville to pick up some supplies.’

‘I have a week’s supplies for both of us here and we can supplement them with fresh meat we catch on the way.’

‘I’ll get my own supplies.’

‘Do you have money?’

‘Some.’

‘Enough to buy a mule as well as supplies?’

I fell silent, the few greenbacks I had been given when I left prison wouldn’t be enough to get me what I needed. The money I had on me when I was arrested had mysteriously, gone missing leaving me practically broke and it was as though she knew it. But I couldn’t ask for her help now, I still had some pride.

‘I’ll manage,’ I said sullenly.

‘You are too proud to let me help you, I know that. Especially after pretending that you don’t need me when you know damn well you do. So if you want, you can pay me back when you have enough money.’

I had no answer. I needed to get to where I had hidden some of the treasure I had accumulated during the war years. Then I could turn it into money and get my independence back. I could travel alone living off the land, and maybe getting work here and there. But that would slow me down and I needed to get to Singer before he died a natural death. I needed Chameli even though it stuck in the craw to admit it to myself. If I was to be honest, I not only needed her, but in my heart I wanted her close by where I could feel her presence, steal looks at her beauty and smell the unique womanliness of her.

‘Ok, I’ll borrow some of your supplies, but I will pay you back, I don’t want to be beholding to you.’

She treated me to one of her rare radiant smiles and my look was, momentarily, held and I became enchanted by her dark smouldering eyes. I quickly faced forward cursing myself for the fool that I was in letting this woman get such a hold over me.

We headed North West, the girl riding in my wake with the mule in tow. I figured we could make Fort Worth in just over three days, maybe less. There we could stay overnight before heading for Oklahoma, then on to Kansas where I had hidden some of my treasure.

It turned out I needed Chameli more than I had realised. Her skills were uncanny and I could see how a she had survived alone for so long. She could follow the tracks of animals and catch them with her bare hands after silently stalking them for anything up to an hour. Rabbits, wild turkey, squirrels and even snakes. She knew exactly the best place to set snares and where to find edible roots and berries. Her skills didn’t end there though. She could sense when raiding bands of Comanche Indians were in the vicinity and how to take evading action. She seemed to be able to smell water and was always able to lead us straight to creeks and streams and find the best cover to camp for the night.

The first night was awkward. I had hardly spoken to her all day except to answer the questions she continually threw at me. Mainly about prison but often asking how I had been able to cope without her or how badly I must have missed her being around and how often every day did I think about her? Those questions I had no answer for so she answered them for me with,

‘I guess you probably had me on your mind at least three times a day. But who could blame you. You must have missed me like hell.’

‘Yes,’ I had replied. ‘I missed you like I would miss hell or a bullet in the head.’

‘I know you cannot possibly mean that,’ she had replied. ‘A bullet to the head would kill you or leave you crazy.’

‘Exactly, and that is what you will do to me eventually.’

‘No,’ she laughed. ‘I am going to protect you and make sure nothing bad happens to you.’

She took over the cooking just like she was trying to take over my life. She had cooking utensils on the pack mule including an iron kettle in which to boil water for coffee. An iron skillet and tin plates. She fried strips of turkey in goose fat, then added tomatoes, beans, squash and a root that she had, earlier, dug up with her knife. I had to admit the meal was delicious and the portion she gave me was far too much for one man, so she finished it for me. It was a mystery how she stayed so slim.

After the meal we sat in silence sipping coffee and staring at the fire, well, I was staring at the fire but I could feel her eyes watching me and it took all my will power to stop myself from looking up and getting lost in her dark eyes. Finally, she spoke.

‘Would you like to know what has been happening in the outside world?’ she asked quietly.

‘Sure.’ I murmured without looking up.

‘Well, the railway is making headway all over the west and cattle are becoming big business with huge cattle drives coming up the Chisholm Trail to Wichita. I heard there is so much money in Wichita, the banks are busting at the seams. It’s just sitting there waiting for a couple of enterprising desperados to go in and take it. Anybody that was brave enough to do that would be set for life and we could move away to South America.’

My head snapped up.

‘We? Did you say we?’

‘Did I? I meant, they.’

‘Yeah sure you did and the answer’s no.’

‘You haven’t heard the plan yet.’

‘Oh there’s a plan. Have you been working on it while you were waiting for me to come out of prison?’

‘No, I just thought of it when I was telling you about Wichita.’

‘So you just devised a plan in those few seconds that you were telling me about the cattle business?’

Yes, no not exactly. I might have been thinking about it on the way here or maybe earlier.’

‘Earlier?’

‘Well I just happened to be in Wichita a few months ago and sort of checked out the amount of business that was going on there and the amount of cattlemen that were depositing money in the banks.’

‘The answers no.’

‘What?’

‘I am not helping you to hold up a bank; if that is why you have come all this way you have wasted your time.’

‘You don’t have to answer yet,’ she said patronisingly. ‘We have plenty of time, think on it while we are travelling.’

‘I don’t need to think on it, the answer is always going to be no.’

‘Ok, if that’s the way you feel about it, we’ll leave it for now but think about it anyway. When you hear my plan you will be tickled at how easy it is.’

I glared at her. She just would not be put off no matter what I said.

‘I’m turning in,’ I said. ‘I can’t stand any more of your devious manipulating scheming ways.’

I climbed under my blanket and laid my head down.

‘I can join you if you like,’ she said huskily.

I gasped under my breath as I lay on my side. Was there nothing she would try to get her own way?

‘That’s the last thing I want,’ I lied gruffly.

‘Oh you want it mister, you have just spent seven years in prison and a woman as beautiful as me don’t offer herself lightly. But I admire your will power.’

I closed my eyes but did not sleep for a long time. I heard her slip under her own blanket and I longed to be lying in it with her. I must have gone to sleep at some point during the night, for when I opened my eyes, it was dawn. I don’t know how long I had lain awake during the night thinking of Chameli, but it had seemed like a very long time.

She had already built up the fire and made coffee and I hadn’t heard a thing. I guess prison had dulled my senses and blunted my natural instincts for survival. That could be dangerous. Before prison, I usually woke and was alert at the smallest sound. Her bed roll was lying neatly rolled up across from me, but she was nowhere to be seen. I guessed she had gone to wash in the creek and attend to personal matters. I would leave her to her privacy and go down to the creek when she returned. I sat up and poured myself coffee.

When she returned, she had two duck eggs, I had seen no sign of ducks anywhere near the creek, but somehow she had found nesting ducks and procured two eggs for our breakfast. She also carried the skillet which she had washed in the creek. She placed them on the ground while she fetched some salt bacon from the pack and soon there came the delicious smell of frying bacon and eggs. I noticed she had changed out of the skirt and into a pair of goatskin pants flared at the bottom Mexican style, though she still wore the white blouse and moccasins.

We ate in silence and when we had finished, she took the tin plates down to the creek to wash them. When she came back, she squatted down opposite me and looked directly into my eyes. I did not want her to do that, because when she held my eyes that way, I became mesmerised and was unable to look away.

‘I’ve been thinking Andrew,’ she said.

I nearly fell off the log I had been sitting on. That was the first time she had spoken my name in all the time I had known her and it gave me a strange feeling of elation just like when you are a child and are praised for doing something good. She had afforded me the privilege of calling me by my given name and the strange thing was, I felt privileged that she had done so.

I just stared back at her like a sick calf or an adoring puppy and I hated myself for it. She in turn had a serious look on her beautiful face.

‘Andrew?’

I came out of my stupor.

‘Yes?’

‘I’ve been thinking, I know you think you can get by without me fool that you are. You probably even think you are not crazy in love with me when we both know that you are and nobody could blame you for that.’

I had to deny it even though it was true. She was so self-assured and superior in the way she spoke to me, that I could not allow her to have the upper hand.

‘What do you know of love? The only person you love is yourself.’

‘Maybe, maybe not. But I feel some kind of attachment to you, I think it is destiny that we came together.’

‘I prefer to call it bad luck on my part.’

She giggled and it was like the sound of water flowing over pebbles or tinkling bells. I had never heard her laugh before and it was one more part of her magnetism that drew me to her.

‘You are so funny Andrew, you try so hard to be serious and deny that you want me and that makes me laugh.’

I groaned. What could I say? She just would not be deterred from her way of thinking no matter what.

‘Anyway,’ she continued. ‘Despite what you say, I know you are going after Singer. That’s why you cannot go after the bank with me. You are not satisfied that he has suffered enough for what he did to your family. I guess taking the bank in Wichita will be too much of a distraction and I can understand that.’

She spoke as though robbing a bank in a large town like Wichita was a natural thing to do and part of everyday life. It didn’t seem to enter her head that robbing banks could get you killed, or worse, get you locked up for the rest of your life.

‘So you will be happy to know,’ she continued. ‘I am going to go out of my way just for you and help you get him. We can talk about the other business after he is dead.’

I groaned inwardly. She irritated the hell out of me, so why couldn’t I bear the thought of not being with her.?

‘I don’t need you to help me get Singer and I don’t want you there when I find him.’

‘I have to be there, have you forgotten what he did to me?’

No I had not forgotten. The picture lived with me every day as did my time spent with her up until the time I was taken into custody.

‘Well,’ I replied. ‘You can be happy in the knowledge that when I get him I will make him suffer and get revenge for both my family and for you too. In fact, just to make you happy, before I kill him, I will tell him that you send your regards.’

‘That will not do, I want to see him suffer just like you do. I could have killed him many times over while you were in prison. But because I know it means so much, I have saved him for you.’

‘You know where is?’

‘Damned right I do. I made sure I would find him before you came out. He isn’t the man he was though. He is crippled with pain and don’t get around very well.’

‘Where is he and what’s he doing?’

‘Don’t worry Andrew, I will take you to him and you can see for yourself.’

That was her insurance that I wouldn’t ride away first chance I got and go after him alone.

‘Well,’ I said. ‘First off I have to get to Kansas; I have some valuables hidden there that I want to convert into cash.’

‘Good, let’s hope there is enough to keep us for a while, at least until we take the bank.’

She had already decided that whatever assets I owned, half belonged to her and she was determined that we would rob a bank in Wichita. I had not got the will right then to argue with her about the bank, so I let it ride.

‘We are wasting time,’ I said. ‘We have a way to go to Fort Worth.’

We set off with Chameli taking the lead and me following with the mule. I had to bow to her superior survival skills and instincts much though it pained me.

We were travelling through scrub prairie and rough terrain keeping away from the Great Plains where we might encounter bands of Comanche, hunting bison. It was hard going with thorny bushes and cactus tearing at our legs and I now realised why Chameli had changed into leather pants. However, I put my faith in her because she had already proved her worth even though she made sure I knew how good she was.

At just before noon, we found a small stream where we could water the animals and rest up for a short time. We made cold camp on the bank of the stream and ate some jerky washed down with water. With the absence of any trees, we were in the open in full view of anybody that came by. But Chameli assured me it was unlikely Indians would come this way, there was nothing in this wild part of the plains that would tempt them to hunt here. So we were oblivious at first, to the man sitting astride his horse on the opposite bank watching us. I was just about to speak to the girl after tearing of a chunk of jerky and as I lifted my head to look at her, I stiffened. She was staring intently across the stream and I followed her gaze, the jerky hanging from my teeth. I began to go for my gun, but Chameli, swift as a rattlesnake, grabbed my wrist and held me in her strong grip. We stayed still with her holding the wrist of the hand that gripped the gun, staring at the Comanche on the opposite bank.

He urged his horse forward and headed towards us and it was then that I noticed the girl draped face down over the horse in front of him with her long blonde hair hanging down from her lolling head. The rider looked unsteady on the horse, swaying as though he was about to fall off. He reined the horse up the bank and stopped before us. It was then that I saw he was badly wounded, what I had thought was war paint was blood smeared on his torso and legs. He grabbed the girl by the back of her dress and tried to lower her to the ground, but he was obviously very weak and began to fall sideways as the weight of the girl overbalanced him. Chameli was on her feet in a flash with me not far behind her. She took hold of the girl and lifted her into her arms while I lowered the man to the ground. It was then that I saw the bullet wound in his back.

The girl was just a child around six or seven years old and did not seem to be harmed apart from probably, a few aches and pains from being slung face down over a horse for god knows how long. I lowered the Indian to the ground where he lay still and I could see he was close to death. He spoke in his native tongue, punctuating the words with heavy gasps. Chameli handed the child to me where she stayed perfectly still in my arms wide awake and staring into space. Then she knelt beside the man and lowered her ear close to his mouth. After listening intently to him, she said something I did not understand before listening to him again. I could see him getting weaker as his words trailed off until he eventually, went quiet and laid still. Chameli remained by his side for a while, then climbed to her feet and took the child from me holding her tight to her bosom with the girl’s head on her shoulder.

‘What did he say?’ I asked urgently. ‘What was he doing with a white child?’

‘How the hell should I know,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t speak Comanche.’

‘Then why did you speak to him in his native tongue?’

‘I didn’t, I spoke to him in my native tongue, just for something to say to him while he died.’

‘So we know nothing about where the girl came from or why he brought her to us?’

‘Nope, but we need to tend to her, I think she is in some kind of stupor. She has probably seen things that no little girl should ever see and is shocked or something.’

This was all I needed, another female on my hands, as if one wasn’t enough, two if I counted the mare.

‘Build a fire and boil some water,’ Chameli demanded. ‘I need to make a broth for her and then look her over for injuries.’

I did as she told me and soon I had a fire going with water slowly heating over it. Chameli, meanwhile, was checking the girl for injuries whilst the child lay perfectly still staring blankly. She stood up with the child in her arms and tried to pass her to me. But the girl wrapped her arms around Chameli’s neck and clung on, the first kind of emotion she had yet shown. Chameli looked at me and pulled the child back into her body.

‘There’s a root I need you to find,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you likely places where to find it and no matter how long it takes, don’t come back without it. I need it to relax this child, understand?’

I felt as though I was back home on the farm. My mother used to speak to me that way when I was just a kid.

‘Yes maam,’ I growled. ‘Would you like me to shoot a buffalo for meat while I’m about it?’

‘If you see one, sure why not? But that aint very likely around here. Now go and don’t come back without that root.’

She told me exactly what type of shrub to look for and I stormed off angrily, to look for her goddamn root.

After around thirty minutes searching I found the shrub she had described and dug up the root with my knife.

When I returned to the fire, Chameli was sitting cross legged with the girl in her arms rocking back and forth and humming some kind of tune. She told me to peel the root and slice it into the boiling water which I did along with some carrots from a supply of the vegetables she had brought along with her. I chopped them finely before adding them to the broth simply to help take away the some of the bitterness which would be produced by the root. Then I was told to stir it with a thin branch I cut from one of the many bushes. Gradually the mixture thickened as the root and carrots softened. When Chameli decided the brew was ready, she told me to pour some into a mug and hand it to her. She took it from me and held it, blowing on it occasionally until it was cool enough to drink. Then she lifted the child’s head from her shoulder and held the mug to her lips. The girl took a sip and immediately spit it out. Chameli must have expected that because she had turned the girls head away from her so that she spurted the liquid into the dirt by the fire. Chameli beckoned me over and told me to take the mug. Then she pinched the child’s nose and tilted her head back, before squeezing her cheeks to force her mouth open which gave me the opportunity to pour some of the liquid into her mouth. Chameli then pinched her lips together until she swallowed the liquid. We repeated the operation a few times until Chameli decided the girl had, had enough. Tears were streaming down the child’s face, but she had not uttered a sound.

Chameli cuddled the girl to her while telling me to unsaddle the horses and unpack the mule and then get plenty of kindling for the fire.

I protested.

‘We can’t stay here,’ I snapped. ‘It’s still early and we can make a lot of headway before dusk.’

‘The child cannot travel, she is too weak and anyway, she will go to sleep soon and I don’t want to disturb her.’

‘Well, you stay here with her then ‘cos I am going on. I have business to attend to and the girl is not my concern.’

‘Really? Take a look at her. Are you just going to abandon her? She is a small child. Shall I leave her here to fend for herself and come with you?’

‘You can do what you want lady. I have more important things to worry about. I did not ask you to come along and I certainly didn’t ask to be burdened with some kid that shouldn’t even be out here in the wilds.’

‘Is that what you thought when you abandoned your sister, she would have been around the same age as this child when you left her wouldn’t she? It seems to me you have learned nothing.’

Oh lawd. If she had plunged a knife into my gut and twisted it, it could not have hurt more than that remark did.

I glared at her as she rocked back and forth with the child nestling to her with her head on Chameli’s shoulder and her blonde hair hanging down her back. At that moment I saw Lise and I so much wanted to take her from Chameli and hold her close. I desperately wanted to beg her forgiveness for leaving her and for not being there to protect her from the horrific abuse she had suffered.

I turned on my heel and went to unsaddle the horses and unpack the mule leaving them to find grazing where they could but with a halter on the mare and my rope giving her plenty of leeway to roam while the other end was staked to the ground. Then I draped the body of the Indian over the back of the mule and walked him about half a mile away before dumping him in some scrub and bushes. After which I rode the mule bareback, back to where I had left the horses grazing. I gathered more kindling for the fire and returned to the camp. Chameli didn’t ask why I had taken so long; as always, she seemed to know my mind as well as me. So she would know that I needed the time alone whilst taking the Indian away from the area, to think and wrestle with my guilt over my attitude towards the child and her affinity to Lise.

She had lain the child on a folded blanket away from the fire. She was sleeping soundly and I noticed for the first time, that she wore a simple cotton dress that had once been blue, but was now discoloured and dirty. She had her head turned away from me so I could not see her face, but her hair had been braided by Chameli and hung down from her head onto the blanket. Chameli had made coffee and handed me a mug of the steaming liquid when I squatted down by her side where she was sitting crossed legged watching the girl.

‘How is she?’ I asked putting more concern into my words than was really necessary.

She shot me a look of disdain before answering making me feel like a naughty child who had asked a silly question and I waited expectantly for the tirade of abuse. It never came, instead she answered me quietly and evenly.

‘She will sleep for a long time and then when she wakes she will, at least, feel refreshed. I have no idea what her mind will be like because we don’t know what has happened to her. I guess time will tell if she will be able to recall the events leading up to her arriving here. I checked her over and there doesn’t seem to be any physical harm.’

‘So how long before we can travel?’

Once more she gave me a contemptuous look, then dismissed my remark by taking some sips from her coffee mug.

‘I’m only asking so that I can get an idea if we can make some more ground today before dark,’ I said defensively.

‘Well I am only not answering because it was a stupid question,’ she snapped. ‘Now watch the girl while I go down to the creek, I’ll see if I can find anything suitable for us to eat for supper while I’m down there, but if not, I have some cans of food in the pack.’

I watched her go, unable to tear my eyes from her retreating form as she walked away. I felt sure, she was purposely making the sway of her hips more pronounced for my benefit, probably, to torment me for my insensitivity. Well it if that was the reason, it worked perfectly and I could not suppress a thrill as her shapely buttocks moved provocatively in the tight pants she was wearing. After she had gone from sight, I sat glumly watching over the child and pondering over how I had once more got myself involved with the un-predictive and volatile woman. She had been so vulnerable and close to death when I had first met her. If I had known then what I know now, I thought. Would I have gone to the trouble of saving her from certain death? I think so; for whatever her faults, my life had been made richer for having her in it.

She returned empty handed after around three quarters of an hour. I guess she is human after all, I thought. She doesn’t always manage to come up with the goods.

She looked up as she approached and saw me staring at her.

‘What?’ She snapped.

‘I always thought you were the great hunter. Never come back without a meal for your minions. I feel let down now. Would you like me to have a go and show you how it’s done?’

‘If I cannot catch anything you certainly won’t, you don’t have nearly as much skill as me. Anyway I have set some snares so stay away from that bushy area down by the creek when you go down there. I’ll check them in the morning.’

She squatted down by the girl and looked at her face for a long time, then went to her pack that was lying on the ground and came back with another blanket and a canvas sheet. She covered the girl with the blanket and placed the canvas close by before turning to face me.

‘It is going to rain later,’ she said in a matter of fact way. ‘She will need to be kept dry.’

I looked up at the sky. The clouds were high and rain was the last thing I would have expected. But the last thing to expect where Chameli was concerned, was usually the first thing to happen. So I did not doubt that it would rain.

‘Can you give me the exact time when it will start to rain?’ I asked sardonically.

‘Have you got a watch?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well when it rains, check your watch it will say around nine twenty give or take a couple of minutes.’

I grinned.

‘Sure and at midnight the sun will come up.’

She didn’t answer my sarcasm which made me feel as though I had been chastened. Instead she simply smiled and went to the pack, returning with a can of beans and some grits.

We ate the beans in silence, but once we had finished I asked her what she thought had happened with the girl.

‘It seems obvious to me she was kidnapped,’ she said quietly. ‘But I don’t know whether that brave was working alone which is unlikely, or was with a Comanche raiding party which is more likely.’

‘So they could have killed her folks.’

‘It is possible. But I cannot figure out why that brave was alone. After a raid, a hunting party regroups to return to their particular band together and share the glory. Comanche are great thieves, they will steal anything, horses, cattle, guns and women and girls. A blonde haired blue eyed girl such as this one is highly prized and she would have been integrated into the tribe and raised as one of their own, or traded for weapons and tools.’

‘So what do you think was the reason he was alone?’

‘I think the Comanche raiding party underestimated their prey and were fought off. I think they were possibly, all killed or mortally wounded. The brave that turned up here must have snatched the child and was shot in the back as he was riding away with her. He must have known he was dying and rather than leave her to perish in the wilderness, he came to us with her.’

It made sense to me and I guessed she must have thought a great deal about it since the girl had arrived here.

‘So there might still be people from the child’s community left alive,’ I said hopefully.

‘It is possible but not likely that if there are any still surviving, they will be in any condition to care for the child.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Think about it. They shot that Comanche brave in the back, he was alone and carrying off one of their children; don’t you think, if anyone had been able to, that they would not have pursued him and rescued the child? He was in no condition to fight back. No, my instincts tell me, she is the only survivor between both parties.’

At nine fifteen it started to rain. At nine twenty, it was pouring down.

‘Ok,’ she sighed seriously. ‘I was a couple of minutes out. Believe it or not there are odd occasions when I get things slightly wrong.’

I could not fathom whether she was being serious or not. To be able to predict the weather with that degree of accuracy was nothing short of incredible.

She had, completely covered the blanketed girl with the canvas including her head, so there was no chance of her getting wet. I couldn’t say the same for the two of us; we had one blanket between us Chameli having used two for the child. The only other protection we had was a slicker each. We had eaten before the rain came so all we could do, was settle down and try to sleep for the night. Chameli lay down with the slicker covering both her and the one remaining blanket while I donned the other slicker and tried to keep as warm and dry as possible.

I dozed occasionally, but most of the night I lay awake shivering and wishing that Chameli would repeat her offer to join me and share her blanket. I knew her well enough by now though, to know that she would not. Having been rejected once she was too proud to offer me a second chance, leaving me to languish in the cold wet night and lament my stupidity.

It stopped raining just before dawn and I finally fell into a deep sleep only to be awakened, it seemed, like mere minutes later by Chameli shaking me by the shoulder.

‘Come on sleepy head,’ she chided. ‘Just how much sleep do you need?’

I groaned, but did not reveal, that I had had little sleep during the night. I climbed to my feet and wrung out my soaked hat, then removed the slicker. At least my clothes were dry.

‘I need to take the child down near the creek so that I can attend to her needs and allow her to do what she needs to do, then I’m going to wash her so don’t come down there. While we are gone you can build a fire and get some coffee going, I’ll be back soon.’

‘Yes maam,’ I said sarcastically. I was in a dark mood having gone without sleep; made darker by the disappointment of not being asked to share her blanket.

She looked at me quizzically. Then, as if she had read my mind.

‘I would, gladly have shared my blanket with you had you asked. You only have yourself to blame for your stupid pride.’

She went to the girl who was lying awake, her dirty face turned our way silently staring at us. She, easily, lifted the child complete with blanket and carried her down to the creek while I stalked off to find kindling angry that I had been too pig headed to ask if I could share Chameli’s blanket.

She returned twenty minutes or so later with the girl in her arms. She was draped in the blanket once more and her face had been washed as well as her hair which was still damp. Chameli tried to put her down close to the fire which I had built up to a good size despite only having wet kindling and logs. But the child clung on to her with her arms wrapped tightly around Chameli’s neck and wouldn’t let go. Chameli whispered something in her ear and the child looked at me with alarm in her blue eyes. But she released her grip and allowed Chameli to put her down where she sat holding the blanket tightly to her throat and glaring at me.

‘I’m going back to the creek to check the snares and wash,’ the woman informed me. ‘Watch the child but don’t go near her she doesn’t trust you.’

I stared at her in disbelief. She simply grinned and strode off again to the creek leaving me to sit watching over the girl while she scrutinised me with deep suspicion written in her big blue eyes. I tried smiling at her but that just brought her to the verge of tears, so I turned to my mug and filled it with coffee. At that particular moment, coffee was my best friend in all the world. I was subjected to endless glares from the child each time I looked at her for the next thirty minutes, until eventually, Chameli returned. She had the girl’s wet dress and underclothes in one hand while in the other, was a young Jackrabbit which she held at arm’s length. She tossed it on the fire without skinning it. When I asked her why, she said it was to kill all the tics, fleas and lice that those kind of hares harbour. After all the fur had been burned off, she removed it from the fire and told me to skin it. Then she strung a rope between two sticks I had driven into the ground and hung the girl’s clothing over it to dry.

We roasted the rabbit and Chameli sat with the girl on her lap feeding her small bits of the hot meat and gaining her trust whilst I sat opposite eating my share. I was impatient to be on our way, but was reluctant to voice my concerns for fear I would be put down again. It seemed Chameli was calling the shots and I would have to be patient until she decided what we were going to do. I just could not comprehend how I had managed to get myself into a situation where I came to rely on the judgment of a woman. Not just any woman, but one who was self-centred, arrogant, bossy and loved herself more than anyone in the world. If I had any sense at all, I would saddle the mare and ride away alone to do what I set out to do in the first place. It seemed, however, that I had lost any semblance of sense, because I stayed put allowing Chameli to decide when we would move out.

As it turned out, we didn’t get underway until around noon. By then the child’s clothes had dried and I was sent to saddle the horses and pack the mule while Chameli dressed the girl.

We headed North West again. Chameli took the lead with the child sitting astride her horse in front of her. I brought up the rear with the pack mule in tow. We were still at least two days away from Fort Worth and I felt as though I was travelling with a huge weight on my back. But when I thought about it logically, what was the point of being impatient now? I had waited many years already to get my revenge on Singer. I knew from past experiences that a man could get himself killed by going in to something unprepared and hurrying things along. Patience was what was needed, something I had in abundance before I went to prison. Anyway, I could have spent years seeking out where Singer was had I been working alone, so as Chameli already knew his whereabouts, it made sense to stick by her and allow her to lead me to him. At that time and in my mind, it was a good distraction from the real reason for wanting to be with her.

We made good time with no distractions, apart from a couple of times when we stopped for the child’s needs, when we were able to catch a few minutes out of the saddle.

As was usual, Chameli led us to water and a good place to camp, although when we arrived there, it was almost sundown. She had me collect kindling for a fire and left the reluctant child with me while she went off somewhere. There were many trees around as well as bushes and I had no problem collecting enough wood and twigs to build a fire. I kept the girl within my sight as I went about gathering logs, while she in turn eyed me suspiciously and I wondered what Chameli had whispered to her that made her so fearful of me.

I had unpacked the mule and unsaddled the horses. Brought cooking utensils and coffee from the pack, boiled water twice and made coffee by the time Chameli got back. I sat sipping at my mug of coffee trying not to make eye contact with the girl. I had already offered her coffee which she had refused and I had tried unsuccessfully, to speak to her. She in turn had just stared, unblinking, at me. So I was relieved when Chameli came into view. She emerged from the trees dragging something behind her that looked at first, like a dog, but as she came closer, I saw it was a young peccary that she had killed even though I never heard a gunshot.

That night, we ate well and there was plenty of meat left over for the next night, hopefully the last before we reached Fort Worth. As usual she had the child on her lap and was tearing off small pieces of meat for her to eat. Afterwards, they spoke to each other in whispers, occasionally looking up at me and giggling which made me feel very insecure about myself. At least the girl had come out of her shell and Chameli was doing a good job of making her forget for the time being, whatever it was she had witnessed with her family. So if it had to be at my expense, so be it.

The child had had a long day and was soon sleeping soundly in Chameli’s arms. I looked across the fire at the woman sitting cross legged with the girl sitting in her lap. Her head was nestling against Chameli’s breast and in that moment, I felt a pang of jealousy toward the child. Chameli was giving her all the affection that I myself had coveted but was too pig headed to make my desires known to her.

The woman looked up and caught me staring at her and I quickly averted my eyes.

‘Why haven’t you asked me about what happened to me after you abandoned me and lost me my gold?’ She asked emotionlessly.

‘I did not abandon you. In case it has slipped your mind, I was arrested and sent to prison for seven years.’

‘If you hadn’t panicked and shot Singer, we could have had the gold and Singer and been living in South America now.’

‘I did not panic, I acted instinctively as I always do when I am confronted by my enemy. It is something you do when you have fought a war where the only rule is kill or be killed. Anyway, look what happened to Singer’s gang when they went after the gold. That could have been us.’

‘Not with my plan. We would have taken the gold before it reached the river where those soldiers were. So there would have only been the guards to worry about.’

‘From what I heard there were over a dozen armed men guarding that wagon, how the hell did you expect just two of us to take it, especially as one of us was just a girl? From what I recall you weren’t in the best of health anyway.’

‘I would have distracted them with my beauty while you got the drop on them, simple.’

I decided not to change my first impression of her. She was insane just as I had thought.

I shook my head and poured myself more coffee before sipping it slowly as I stared into the flames.

‘Well anyway,’ she said. ‘I have decided to forgive you, which is why I came to meet you out of prison. But I was mad at you at the time. I waited all night in that cantina in Laredo. I didn’t know whether to go looking for you or wait longer. It was the cantina owner who told me what had happened and informed me of your arrest.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘I had no money to pay for the room so that pig tried to make me pay in another way.’

‘What way?’

‘Use your imagination Andrew,’ she said disdainfully.

‘Oh! What did you do?’

‘I let him have what he wanted.’

I felt as though I had been stabbed in the heart and I could not explain why. Surely she was just using her considerable assets to pay a debt. It was no concern of mine anyway. I had no reason to feel let down; but I did. I didn’t like the thought of some greasy guy pawing her and lusting all over her.

‘Well I let him think I was letting him have what he wanted. When he climbed on top of me, I sunk my knife in his ass and got the hell out of there. Left him screaming in agony. The problem was, he was tougher than I gave him credit for. He came after me although with a deep knife wound in his butt he wasn’t nearly as quick. I stole your horse from the livery and rode her bareback out of the barn door just as he got there. I didn’t expect him to have a gun and was surprised when he shot me just as I rode out of the place.’

‘You were shot?’ I asked in surprise. Although I do not know why I should be shocked. The girl seemed to make a habit of getting herself into trouble and ending up either shot or worse.

‘Yes he got me in the side, nearly blew me off the damned horse.’

‘Well you obviously survived or you wouldn’t be here now. Not sure whether I should be happy or sad and I can’t believe the mare let you ride her at all, never mind bareback.’

She pulled a face at me, I guessed for my remark about being unsure whether to be happy or sad that she had survived.

‘I believe she sensed that I was in danger.’ She continued. ‘We have an understanding when the chips are down. Whatever it was, she was happy to carry me as far from Laredo as she was able.’

‘So how bad was the gunshot wound?’ I tried not to show it but I was concerned.

‘Pretty bad and I was losing blood. But your mare is a very intelligent horse, well she would be being female. She headed back the way we had come, to the only place where I could get treatment for my wound.’

I thought for a moment.

‘Consuelo’s.’

‘Yes but the chances of me making it that far were slim.’

‘It must be a day and half away from Laredo to Consuelo’s place, how did you make it that far with a bullet in your side?’

‘The mare got me as far as the creek where we made camp before. I wasn’t feeling too good by then. I nearly fell off the horse, but managed to stay on my feet when I dismounted. I took off my shirt to look at the wound and it was then that I saw the bullet had gone right through the fleshy part of my waist and it was likely to be loss of blood that was sapping my strength. I tore my shirt into strips and folded one into a thick wad so that I could place it on the bullet holes. Then I tied strips of shirt around my waist as tight as I could. Then, just to make sure, I fastened my belt around the strips so that I could barely breathe. But at least it seemed to have stopped the blood.’

I threw away the dregs of my coffee and refilled my mug before sipping at the steaming liquid and watching Chameli as she placed the sleeping girl down on a blanket.

Chameli stretched and crossed to my side of the fire, taking the coffee from my hand without a word, before going back to sit by the child. She sipped at my coffee and stared into the flames leaving me to wonder what had happened after she bandaged her wound.

‘Well?’ I asked finally.

‘Well what?’

‘What did you do?’

‘I rode to Consuelo’s place and she looked after me.’

‘Just like that? You just mounted the mare and rode all the way to Consuelo’s as though nothing had happened to you?’

‘Well not exactly, it wasn’t an easy journey.’

‘How the hell did you get back up on the mare? She won’t even let me mount her without a fight, so god knows how you managed with a wound in your side, especially with no saddle to hold on to.’

‘There was a tree that had fallen against another tree, maybe during a hurricane. Anyway I was able to climb up it far enough and the mare came to me when I called and positioned herself close enough for me to climb astride her.’

That seemed very unlikely to me. The mare hated men, but she hated women even more. It was hard to believe that she would, meekly do what the girl wanted her to do. But, I supposed I shouldn’t really find it so unlikely, this was Chameli after all and I had come to expect the unexpected with her.

‘So did you ride her all the way to Consuelo’s in that condition?’

‘What condition?’

‘Well, you know, wounded and with no shirt to keep you warm.’

‘Oh, I see,’ she giggled. ‘You have visions of me riding your horse with my tits jiggling. Well I’m sorry to disappoint you mister, but I had wrapped a strip of shirt around them and fastened it at the back.’

‘That isn’t what I was thinking at all,’ I blustered. ‘I wouldn’t think that way.’

She was grinning at me when I looked at her and I suddenly felt that I was being held to ridicule.

‘Well,’ she continued. ‘I hung on to the mare for what seemed like forever and she carried me for a whole day and into the night until we finally arrived at Consuelo’s. Manuel came out when he heard the horse approaching and then Consuelo. They helped me down and carried me into the house. Consuelo took care of me while Manuel tended to your horse.’

‘We owe them a huge debt,’ I murmured.

‘She told me after I had recovered, that you left some money under the old iron kettle where they would be sure to find it. She said you must have known they would refuse to accept it from you personally.’

‘Yes,’ I said quietly. ‘I thought it might help them to get by in tough times.’

She put another log on the fire and smiled at me.

‘No matter how tough you act,’ she said. ‘You still have a heart don’t you?’

‘I help if the ones I help, deserve to be helped,’ I replied.

‘Is that why you helped me?’

‘Yes, no, I don’t know, I didn’t even know you then. I helped you because you needed help. You were in a bad way and I thought you were dying. I just tried to make it a bit easier for you. If I had known what I know now, I........’

‘If you had known what you know now, you wouldn’t have done anything different Andrew, because I am the best thing that has ever happened to you, you just won’t allow yourself to accept it.’

She was right of course, but I was damned if I would admit it to her.

‘I guess Consuelo made you better again huh?’

‘She did and we became good friends. She loved having me around, which isn’t really surprising. I stayed there for over a year helping around the place and they were thankful of the extra hand. I worked hard while I was there and helped build up the farming side with Manuel and we doubled corn production. Consuela was glad to have somebody around who she could talk to woman to woman and the kids, naturally, loved me.’

‘Makes you wonder how ever they managed before you came along,’ I said sardonically.

‘Yes it does,’ she said without a hint of humility.

‘But you left them eventually. What did you do then?’

‘I got married.’

If someone had struck me at the side of my head with a huge rock they could not have knocked me more sideways than that did. I must have had a ridiculous look on my face, because she laughed until I thought she would wet herself and wake up the child in the process.

‘You look shocked Andrew,’ she said when she finally calmed down.

‘Do I? Well that’s because I am. Congratulations and why aren’t you with your husband instead of out here in the wilderness trying to tempt me into helping you rob a bank?’

‘He’s dead.’

‘What? Did you kill him?’

She looked at me disdainfully.

‘How could you say that? What kind of woman do you think I am?’

‘I constantly ask myself that every waking hour and it would come as no surprise to hear that you got married then killed your husband.’

‘Well, as a matter of fact I did. But not like you think. I did not murder him. It was something that just happened.’

‘Well I suppose killing somebody is something that just happens whichever way you look at it.’

‘You make me laugh sometimes Andrew, but that wasn’t one of them.’

‘Ok, so how did you kill him and who was he?’

‘I didn’t realise that you would be so concerned about my marriage. Are you jealous Andrew?’

‘No I am not, why would I be? Whatever you do is your own business and of no interest to me. It was you who wanted to tell me about what happened to you while I was in prison.’

‘Perhaps I shouldn’t go on then if you have no interest,’ she said slyly.

I refused to bite at her bait and was damned if I would let her get another one over me.

‘That’s fine by me, I was only listening to let you believe I cared about what you had been doing all this time. I know how hurt you would be if I showed no interest at all when in truth, I don’t care a damn nickel.’

‘We had better get some sleep then,’ she said and I couldn’t help thinking she knew I was desperate to hear about her life since my arrest. She was deliberately playing on my stubborn streak and playing me for a fool.

I was seething with anger when I climbed under my blanket. I looked across the fire at Chameli cuddling up to the child under their blanket and once more, felt a huge pang of jealousy. I don’t know why I would feel that way about a child. I guess I secretly longed to take her place in Chameli’s arms. I was also irked with myself for losing the chance to hear about the guy she had married. I was even more curious to hear whether or not she had loved him.

As usual when I was so close to the woman, it took a long time for me to sleep. Every time I tried to push her from my mind, the vision of her beautiful face would come back stronger and more vivid. Her full lips smiling at me mockingly, her black shiny hair tumbling over her shoulders and down her back like a velvet cloak and her dark eyes glinting in the firelight.

The next morning Chameli, once more, had to shake me to wake me up. I could not believe how prison had dulled my senses. She silently, handed me a steaming hot mug of coffee before taking the child by the hand and walking with her towards the creek. I would have to wait until they returned before taking my turn.

I busied myself by collecting more kindling and getting the rest of the meat from the pack which I cut up into strips ready to fry with beans. We had saved fat from the pig and I used it to fry the strips of meat before adding the beans and breaking up hard tack into it. By the time the two girls came back the food was cooking nicely. I used up the rest of the meat because we should be able to reach Fort Worth by sundown and it wouldn’t stay fresh for long. I was sure Chameli would have no trouble finishing any leftover food anyway. I went down to the creek to refresh myself and do what I needed to do. When I returned, they were both eating and I took what was left off the fire and ate directly from the skillet.

We arrived at Fort Worth after sundown having made more stops along the way than I considered necessary. I guess the needs of little girls are more numerous and greater than men’s.

I had travelled through Fort Worth with Quantrill during the war and at that time, it was just a small town with a small population. The war had all but bankrupted the place. So I was surprised, when we arrived there, to see how the town had grown. There were stores and saloons as well as hotels, a post office, school and other business establishments. The town was frequently used by cattlemen driving their herds up to Abilene Kansas, then spending large amounts of money which helped the town’s economy further. I was sure we would be able to find somebody to take on the child and care for her, leaving Chameli and me to go about our business with nothing to hold us back.

We liveried the horses and mule before going in search of a suitable hotel. Chameli had money so there was no problem with paying for the two rooms. I was desperate for a cold beer and left the woman and the girl to get settled while I headed for the nearest saloon to spend the small amount of money the prison had given me. I got into a small stakes poker game and won enough to enter into a higher stakes game. I managed to win a couple of pots and lose a few hands, more or less holding my own until I was dealt a straight flush. Only one player out of the five of us folded. The rest stayed in and the ante was raised constantly until there was a really good pot. I was getting low when two more players folded and I was able to call with what I had left. The other player had a full house and could not believe it when I opened up my straight flush. It seemed that my luck was turning at last. But as is usual with me, nothing runs smoothly. The other player, a cattleman, would not let it go and professed his doubts that I won the hand fairly. I ignored his remarks as best I could. The last thing I wanted right then was trouble. I even offered to give him enough money back to pay for lodgings for the night and a meal. But he would not be deterred, he was a poor loser.

‘Either you admit to cheating and give me and these other fellows our money back,’ he growled as he stood over me. ‘Or meet me outside and we will settle it with guns.’

‘I don’t want any trouble,’ I said mildly.

I noticed he wore a pistol in a holster that was slung low on his thigh. It seemed that wearing a gun that way was the fashion amongst men who considered themselves to be handy with a gun. From what I heard, it gave the more expertise amongst them, the advantage of being able to draw and fire a pistol in the blink of an eye. I couldn’t draw a gun that fast, never felt the need, but I could shoot one and I never missed my target unless I was far too far away to be accurate with a pistol. I considered that to be able to draw and shoot in one fluid movement and as fast as they say, the gunman would have to be pretty close to his target to have any kind of accuracy.

‘You should have thought of that when you cheated us out of our money mister. Now you either walk away without the pot or meet me outside with your gun.’

I stood and gathered up my winnings, I figured there must be close to eight hundred dollars, enough to see Chameli and me through for weeks and I was damned if I was going to give it back after having won it fairly. I took my time straightening each bill out before stuffing the wad into my shirt pocket.

‘Do you think your life is worth those few dollars mister?’ he said.

I stood up and looked him in the eyes.

‘Do you?’ I asked mildly.

‘There’s only one way to find out,’ he growled and I could sense the doubt in his voice now. I guessed he had thought he could force me to back down, but I had never backed down to anybody in my life let alone a man who had far more lip than sense.

‘Sure,’ I said confidently. ‘Let’s go.’

I turned and walked through the crowd that had gathered to watch the exchange between us. I had never been in a duel before but I had heard of them and even witnessed a couple. They usually took place between two men who were fast at drawing their pistols standing only feet apart so that accuracy wasn’t really needed. The man who drew and got off his shot first was usually the one who came out on top.

I went through the bat wing doors and walked away, along the dimly lit street until I was around forty five to fifty yards away from the saloon. I turned just in time to see the cowboy enter the street from the saloon. He went into the middle of the street and started walking towards me. When he had gone a few paces I called out.

‘That’s far enough mister. Let’s get this thing done now.’

He hesitated then began to walk towards me again knowing that his fast draw would not be as effective from that distance. I began to pull my gun from its holster on my hip. He instinctively drew and fired in the time it took me to clear the holster with my gun. I heard the hum of his bullet as it passed high over my head. I levelled my pistol and aimed it deliberately, before squeezing the trigger and firing just as he got off his second shot. I felt the sting of the bullet as it burned my cheek just as the other fellow crumpled to the ground with my bullet in his heart, just where I had intended it to go.’

I felt no remorse as I turned on my heel and walked away. I had given him a chance to back out of the fight, even offering to give some of his money back to him. The crowd were gathering around the dead cowboy which gave me time to get away. I didn’t know how the law stood as far as duelling was concerned in Fort Worth and waiting to find out could be my downfall. I had no intention of going back to prison that was for sure. I went straight to the livery and saddled my horse. I gave the liveryman a few extra dollars to give Chameli a message that I had to leave on urgent business. Then I rode away minus my saddlebags and rifle which were still in my room at the hotel.

TWELVE

I drove the mare on for around two miles, before slowing her to an easy gait. I headed North West as before and hoped that Chameli would do the same when she discovered what had happened. I hoped she would understand why I had to abandon her again. It was becoming a habit and I wondered if what she said about me needing her to keep me out of trouble was true. But then, she wasn’t exactly trouble free herself. She had had more than her share of misfortune, grief and pain. You could even add suffering and torment to the list and it turned my struggles into minor irritations. Many men go through their whole lives with no more problems than would cause so much as a sleepless night. It seemed that trouble followed Chameli and me no matter how much we tried to avoid it. Well I tried to avoid it. She just seemed to want to rush headlong into it without a thought as to what the consequences would be.

I needed to get to a place where I could pick up supplies and so looked for a trail or a road that would be a rout to a town or some kind of community. I realised that she could not follow me directly. She had the problem of finding somebody to take care of the child and that would more than likely take a couple of days or more.

After riding at a steady pace through the night by the light of the moon, I made a stop just before dawn on the banks of a stream. I let the horse drink her fill then left her to graze without unsaddling her. I left the reins trailing so that she would not wander far. I drank from the stream then collapsed on the ground exhausted. When I woke it was light and the mare was watching me from about thirty feet away. Luckily I still had my timepiece on me and was surprised to find I had slept for around six hours. I figured a posse would not come after me at night but might try to find my trail that morning, so I urgently needed to make some more headway. I drank a good amount of water to see me through, then headed out again heading North West.

I was just about ready to fall off my horse by the time I reached the town of Jacksboro, a small town, but there was a store where I could buy supplies and a small saloon where I would be able to purchase a meal. There was no livery, but there was a small coral behind the store with a water trough and bales of hay stacked up close by. I bought a bale of hay from the storekeeper and opened it up for the mare to get at easier. I unsaddled the horse and left the saddle with the storekeeper. Then I made my way to the saloon. It had a couple of rooms to rent but they were taken. I didn’t feel I should stay overnight anyhow. I didn’t know if there would be a posse on my tail or whether that cowboy had friends who would want to get revenge for him. I decided to stay there no longer than was necessary. However, my main priority was to get some food into my empty stomach or I would be in no fit state to travel.

The place was small with just half a dozen tables and a short bar where one man was standing talking to the bar tender. I ordered a beer and some food and sat down at a table to contemplate the last twenty four hours or so. I guessed that Chameli would have found out by now what had happened and would be urgently, trying to find somewhere for the girl to live or somebody to care for her until she could be reunited with her relatives if she had any left. She would figure I would be heading North West towards Kansas, so she would more than likely end up here. I could not wait though. I had no way of knowing if I was being pursued. Anyway, who was I to say that she would want to come after me? Maybe she had decided, that enough was enough and I wasn’t worth the trouble. There would be no shortage of men willing to be recruited by her to carry out her crazy schemes, even though they wouldn’t realise how much danger they would be putting themselves in. However, the thought of her being with somebody else alarmed me greatly, for no matter how much I tried to deny it to myself and even more to her, I was crazy in love with her and yes, crazy I know for falling in love with a woman who was a danger to herself and anybody who got close to her. Whatever my feelings for her, I knew I had to move on. I needed to settle my business with Singer and then settle down if that were possible. A certain German woman came to mind living in Sedalia, Missouri. I wondered briefly, if she was still available, for there was little doubt in my mind that if she was she would be someone safe to settle down with, without the worry of having to put up with a woman who was unpredictable, volatile and to my mind, completely insane, blighting my life.

After eating and washing it down with another beer, I bought supplies and filled a couple of gunny sacks tied together so that I could sling them from my saddle horn. I also bought a Spencer repeating rifle that had been sold to the storekeeper by an ex Confederate soldier. He had taken it from a dead Union officer towards the end of the war. It came with three boxes of rim fire cartridges so I would have no problem with ammunition shortage should the need arise. I paid what I considered to be more than it was worth, but felt good about owning such a weapon when I had previously had the trouble of loading my musket with powder and ball and then seating the percussion caps to fire it. The Spencer was lighter and felt good in my hands with an easy lever action to bring a cartridge into the chamber and in turn, ejecting the spent one.

I saddled up and headed north my destination, Ellsworth Kansas and if he was still there, an old friend who had been looking after some valuables for me.

After five days, I reached the outskirts of Ellsworth. I was longing for a comfortable bed and a cool beer. I was able to stable my horse at the Drover’s Cottage Hotel where I booked a room for the night. Ellsworth was a big bustling town and at that time, had a reputation for being the wildest town in the west. There was a lot of animosity towards Texans in the town and I heard stories of a local sheriff being accidently shot by one of two brothers who, though being born in England, had come up from Texas. I had never heard of them at the time, but the older brother Ben Thompson had got a reputation as a gunfighter and from what I heard, had spent some time in Huntsville prison during the time I was there.

There was a lot of drunkenness and shooting in the many saloons and brothels around the town. So I decided with my record of trouble, I would stay clear of the saloons, dancehalls and brothels. I figured that once I had eaten I would be ready for a good night’s sleep anyway.

The next day I set out to find my old friend, a man I had befriended during the war after helping him to get away from Confederate soldiers who had wounded him and were beating and taunting him for being an anti-slavery activist. I had held them off while he got away and then helped him back over the border into Kansas from Missouri. He told me he would be in my debt forever. So when I got separated from the few remaining Missouri raiders I had been riding with and was being pursued by Union soldiers near the end of the war. I found refuge at his farm near Ellsworth Kansas. During that time, I had asked him to take care of a pile of valuables I had amassed during the raids on townships and trains with the various gangs I rode with. His name was Ben Wheeldon and a more genuine man I had yet to meet. He had been older than me by a good seven years. I was twenty one at the time. His wife was a small, good looking woman with a sweet nature. As I recall her name had been Rachael. At the time, they had two children, both girls aged three and seven who were very shy and spent most of the time I was there, hiding behind their mother’s skirts.

When I arrived at the farm after nearly an hour and a half riding, some of it through going the wrong way because my directional sense by way of the farm’s exact location, was hazy to say the least, I was taken aback by the state of the place. It looked, even to the untrained eye, to be in a pretty bad state of disrepair. Outhouses were rotting and all but collapsing in on themselves, the coral at the side of the house was empty with much of the fencing around it broken and even the main building looked shabby and in need of repair. However, a small garden close to the house looked to have been carefully and lovingly tended and as I neared, I was able to see inside the open doorway of the barn where a young girl was milking a cow. She saw me approaching and leapt to her feet to run swiftly out of the barn and in through the front door of the main house. Seconds later a woman came to the open doorway with a shotgun in her hands.

The fence that ran around the farm buildings had collapsed in many places so I was able to walk my horse through a gap in the fence without having to open the gate. I eased the horse close to the woman who was holding the shotgun in a position that was not exactly pointing at me but could easily and quickly be brought to bear if necessary. I removed my hat and smiled, trying to make it as friendly as I could. I recognised her as Ben’s wife Rachael although she had aged a little and looked very tired and weary. I could see the girl who had been milking standing behind her and I guessed she must be the elder of Ben’s daughters, if so, she had grown much taller than her mother.

‘Can I help you sir?’ She asked and I detected nervousness in her voice.

‘Rachael?’ I questioned.

She squinted at me in the glare of the hazy sunlight.

‘Do I know you mister?’

‘I don’t know if you remember me, it’s Andrew Hanson, I’m a friend of Bens.’

She studied me for what seemed longer than necessary.

‘Oh Andrew, yes of course I remember you, you were bearded back then but I would know those blue eyes anywhere.’

She blushed as though what she had said about my eyes embarrassed her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘That was unnecessary.’

I grinned to try and put her at ease.

‘Maam,’ I said lightly. ‘I take that as a compliment that you have recognised at least one of my features.’

She smiled back at me and I saw some of the happy, attractive woman I had met when Ben first introduced us, in her now, tired looking features. She lowered the shot gun and turned to say something to the girl standing behind her.

‘Please climb down and come inside,’ she said lightly. ‘There’s a water trough in the coral and some straw in the barn if you need to tend to your horse.’

‘Thank you maam,’ I said as I dismounted, then led the horse to the coral where I put a halter on her and tied her to the fence near the full water trough, before placing armfuls of straw from the barn close to where she could get at it. I returned to the house and knocked on the open door before entering. The interior was just as I had remembered it. A wooden table stood in the middle of the room with four wooden chairs placed around it. There were two comfortable looking easy chairs by opposite walls, whilst close to the wall opposite the door was a large wood burning stove with a large cabinet beside it full of pots and pans and crockery. Two bedrooms ran off the room by each armchair, the entrances of which, were covered by heavy curtains. The doorway through which I had entered had a window either side of it. Rachael stood by the table while her daughter stood at the stove pouring what looked like coffee, into two mugs. There was another, smaller child sitting on one of the easy chairs looking up at me wide eyed with a rag doll pressed to her chest.

‘Please take a seat,’ Rachael said as she smoothed down her dress with the palms of her hands.

‘Thank you maam,’

I sat down on one of the wooden chairs and placed my hat on the floor by my feet. The girl brought the two mugs of coffee and silently set them down on the table then went to sit on the other easy chair.

‘That cow won’t milk itself Sarah,’ said Rachael as she glared at the girl.

The girl sighed loudly and got to her feet before stomping out of the room.

Rachael took a seat opposite and pushed one of the mugs toward me before picking up the other and taking a sip from it.

‘I know why you are here Andrew,’ she said solemnly.

‘Well maam that at least, saves me some embarrassment. Is Ben around?’

‘I haven’t seen Ben for nearly five years. He left me and took the valuables you left, with him.’

I felt anger rising up in me. I had trusted him and I had saved his life, yet still, he had betrayed me. I stared at her and she flushed before looking down at her hands wrapped around the mug. I was too angry and disappointed to speak. I had been banking on that treasure to get me started again when I returned to the farm and now I had nothing apart from the couple of hundred dollars I had won at poker. While that would keep me for a long time, it wasn’t enough to realise the plans I had had for the farm back in Missouri.

We both sat in an embarrassed silence for many minutes. Apart from sipping my coffee, I did not know what to do or say. I had been so engrossed by the loss of my valuables that I didn’t even give any thought to Rachael’s plight, having been abandoned by her husband and the father of her two children. Finally, I spoke.

‘I’m sorry that Ben walked out on you maam, I really am. It would seem that he has let both of us down.’

‘I am not defending him,’ she said as she looked into my face. ‘But he waited two years after the war was over to return your things and when you never came, we both were sure you must have been killed in battle.’

‘I was prevented from going anywhere for seven years,’ I said quietly.

‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’

She may possibly, have realised I had been in prison but probably, out of either, politeness or embarrassment, kept it to herself.

‘I don’t understand why he would leave such a fine family,’ I said. ‘He must have been crazy.’

‘He wasn’t the man you knew. He turned to drink and let the farm run down. He began to beat me when he was drunk, which was often and he terrified the girls.’

‘He was such a mild mannered man and would do anything for anybody,’ I said in disbelief.

‘I don’t know why he changed, but he did. He was no longer the man I married.’

‘So what did he do, just upped and left or did you discuss it first?’

‘When we decided that you weren’t coming, I will admit I wanted him to use some of your treasure to repair the farm buildings and fences so that we could get back on an even footing again and he agreed that we would. That night he sat up drinking after the girls and I went to bed, but the next morning he was gone. He took the buckboard and the only horse we owned as well as all his belongings and your treasure. He left us penniless and alone.’

I felt like the worst kind of jerk. I was so caught up in my own loss that I never even considered what the poor woman had been going through. She had not only lost her husband, but also, any chance of making the farm work and building it up into a viable business.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘You have far more problems than I do. How are you managing with no way of getting your produce to market?’

‘We cannot farm the fields without a horse to pull the plough, so we are getting by, by growing our own vegetables and making cheese from the milk we yield from the three cows and four goats we have. We also have chickens so once every two weeks I walk to Ellsworth with cheese and eggs and any surplus vegetables we have.’

I stared at her in disbelief.

‘You walk all that way to Ellsworth and back? It must be nearly ten miles away. How can you do that carrying your produce as well?’

‘I only make the journey on foot occasionally. A gentleman friend often comes by and takes me and the produce to town and he always insists on bringing me back. He is very attentive to our needs and has been a big help.’

‘Well it’s good to have friends when you need them. I hope things get better for you and your family. I think you deserve a change of luck and if I could have helped I would. I‘ll leave you in peace now and be on my way maam, but I wish you luck for the future.’

‘Would you like to eat before you leave? I will be making a meal for the girls and me pretty soon.’

‘I do not wish to impose and I am sure that you don’t have enough for yourselves never mind being able to feed someone who is almost a complete stranger.’

I climbed to my feet and bent to retrieve my hat. It was then that I saw the tears rolling down her cheeks. She turned away and wiped her face snuffling as she did so.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Have I upset you in some way?’

‘I’m sorry too, that you have seen me this way and it is nothing that you have said or done.’

‘Well is there something I can do to make it better?’ I asked even though it was a pointless thing to say. I did not even know what the problem was never mind being able to alleviate it.

‘No, it’s just that seeing you here reminds me of how Ben was before he turned to drink. I remember how you both sat and talked deep into the night sitting outside on the porch. Now he is gone and I am alone apart from the girls.’

‘Maybe your gentleman friend will be able to help you or at least keep you company now and then.’

She smiled sadly.

‘I fear he has designs on the farm and is hoping to get close to me in order to get his hands on it. He wants to build it up as a part of his ranch and run cattle. His land backs on to mine and would be ideal for him to expand. He has already offered a fair price for it and wants me to stay on with the girls and live with him and he has made it clear that I would have to be living here as his wife.’

‘Oh, well would that be so bad?’

‘If he was a nice man I would say that it was a way out for us, but I fear that under his pleasant exterior, there is a man who is far less than saintly. For one thing, he is far older than me, I am thirty two while he must be at least sixty and although age difference doesn’t necessarily have to be a problem, he isn’t all he seems. On the surface he seems a kindly old man, but over time I have noticed things about him that make me fearful about the kind of man he really is and I believe that once he has the farm and me and the children under his thumb, he will show his true colours.’

I wasn’t sure what she was getting at, so I just nodded sympathetically. She stood up and leaned in towards me conspiratorially and whispered so that the child on the arm chair wouldn’t hear.

‘Every time he comes here, I see him leering at Sarah. He thinks I don’t notice but I do and I am fearful about what he would do if he came to live here.’

I was lost for words and did not know how to sympathise with what she had told me.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said clearly embarrassed. ‘I know none of this is any of your concern and I should not be burdening you with my problems. Maybe you should leave now after all. I am sorry that Ben took your valuables. If there was any way to reimburse you I would do it.’

‘You have your own problems,’ I said gruffly. ‘Mine are small fry by comparison. I would suggest though, that you have nothing to do with that man, he sounds like somebody that a lady like you should be keeping well clear of and he should be kept well away from your children too.’

‘I know you are right, but what choice do I have? We are barely surviving as it is and he knows it. Sooner or later I am going to have to give in to him.’

‘Well, I am sorry maam. I wish there was something I could do to help, but I have my own urgent business to attend to and things have greatly changed since your husband stole all my valuable possessions.’

‘Yes of course and I am truly sorry you have had a wasted journey,’ she said earnestly. ‘I know I shouldn’t defend him, but he did wait two years after the war and we both thought you were dead.’

‘You are right maam, you should not defend him. While I can understand you both thinking I was dead and then using the money for the upkeep of the farm, neither of us can forgive him for taking my possessions and abandoning you and your children.’

She looked up at me and smiled sadly. I placed my hat on my head and walked to the door. Then as an afterthought, I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out some candy sticks wrapped in brown paper which I handed to the woman.

‘These are for your children,’ I said. ‘For you too if you have a mind to try some.’

She took them and thanked me, then stood at the door watching as I walked across to the coral. After saddling the horse I rode close to the house and tipped my hat to the woman.

‘I hope everything turns out ok for you maam, I surely do.’

‘I’m sure it will,’ she said with hopelessness filling the sound of her voice.

I felt sorrow for her and her plight. She was in a state of deep despair and hopelessness. But like she said, it was no concern of mine.

I tipped my hat again and wished her luck, then wheeled the horse and rode away noticing that the older girl had come to the barn door and was watching as I rode by.

I had time to think on the way back to Ellsworth and I wondered how many women in those troubled times, found themselves in the same position as Rachael Wheeldon. Many of them widowed because of the war and a few of them like Rachael, abandoned by their men folk for one reason or another. My heart was heavy when I thought about her and her young family and the desperate plight they had found themselves in through no fault of their own. On the one hand they faced poverty and possible homelessness, while on the other, waiting to take advantage of their bad luck, was the devil in disguise.’

I believe I must have been getting soft after my spell in prison and I cursed myself over and over for being a damned fool. But by the time I got to Ellsworth, I had decided to do something about Rachael’s misfortune and help her out.

It was sometime after noon when I stopped the wagon I had bought earlier, outside one of the general stores. I went in and purchased as many supplies as I could afford, including flour, rice, beans and some cloth. I also bought nails, wire and seed for planting as well as various canned food. The store stocked .56 56 cartridges suitable for my Spencer rifle and I bought six boxes. There wasn’t much left out of the eight hundred dollars I had won after buying supplies and paying for the wagon and also a mule to pull it. The fellow I had purchased the wagon from had assured me that the mule would pull a plough easily. The mare, with her temperament would neither be suitable for pulling the wagon nor a plough. So I had put a halter on her and tied a lead rope to the back of the wagon.

Early that evening, I drove the wagon up to the farm that I had left earlier that day. They had obviously seen me coming from probably half a mile away, because Rachael and the two girls were standing outside the door as I rode up. All three had their hands shielding their eyes from the glare of the sun as it lowered in the sky and the smaller of the two children was standing very close to her mother with her head pressed against the woman’s arm.

Rachael stepped forward and the girl stepped behind her and stood peeping round her skirts.

‘Excuse my surprise,’ she stammered. ‘But why have you come back here?’

I grinned nervously, at her and suddenly felt unsure of what I was going to say.

‘Well,’ I said slowly. ‘I hope you do not think it presumptuous of me, but I have a proposition for you and should you accept, it could be a way out of your predicament.’

‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘I thought you had urgent business elsewhere.’

‘Well,’ I said slowly. ‘My urgent business has been waiting to be settled for many years. I guess it can wait a while longer.’

‘Then what is your proposition?’

‘Allow me to help you run the farm and give me a cut in any profits and I will try my damndest to build it up into a good working farm.’

‘Why would you do that? Especially after Ben made off with your possessions.’

‘You are not Ben and I feel you deserve a break after what he did to you.’

‘But why would you, an almost complete stranger, want to risk everything trying to build up a run down place like this? It isn’t as though you owe me anything.’

‘Well I think maybe I do. If I had not left all those valuables with Ben, he would not have been tempted to take them and leave you. As a matter of fact he would not have been able to afford to leave you.’

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? I’m not sure I would have wanted a man who felt he was trapped because he could not afford to leave.’

‘Well,’ I said. ‘My offer still stands. I have a wagon and a mule that can pull a plough and also supplies enough to last well over a month if I supplement it with any meat and foul I manage to kill. All I ask is that you feed me and you and your daughters help with the planting. I will be happy to sleep in the barn.’

She walked to the wagon and looked at all the merchandise therein.

‘It seems that you have already taken it for granted that I would agree.’

‘I have to admit, I did not think the plan through properly. On the way back to Ellsworth, I just decided that I would help you out of the mess you found yourself in and help myself back into farming. Now, when I think about it, you have only met me once before and that was only briefly. So I wouldn’t blame you if you turned me down. I guess I was a damn fool to buy all this stuff before asking you first. For all you know I am no different from the man who asked you to sell out to him.’

‘Well, you are younger for a start,’ she blurted, then coloured up as her daughter giggled at her remark.

‘Oh my goodness,’ she gasped. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘I take it my age is in my favour then,’ I grinned.

She blushed, then looked down at her feet before answering.

‘I see you as a saviour,’ she said shyly. ‘If you are willing to take the chance, I welcome the opportunity to make a go of building this place back to the way it was and I will be eternally grateful to you.’

‘I will try to make sure you don’t regret it maam,’ I said as I jumped down from the wagon.

‘If we are to be working as partners,’ she smiled. ‘I would prefer you to call me Rachael.’

‘Rachael it is then.’

She turned and swept out her arm towards the two girls standing off to one side.

‘You met my daughters last time you were here when they were very small. I don’t know if you remember their names, but this is Sarah and the small shy one is Ruth.’

Ruth peeped out from behind her mother while Sarah smiled shyly before lowering her head.

‘Ok,’ I said. ‘Who’s going to help unload this wagon, there’s a reward for anybody that carries the most stuff.’

I carried the larger items while the girls and their mother carried in the smaller articles. When we had unloaded everything I produced a can of peaches and a can of pears that I had hidden beneath the seat of the wagon.

‘Ok ladies,’ I said. ‘These here are your reward, enjoy.’

They took the cans and examined them, one each and I wondered if they had ever eaten canned fruit before. I guessed they were in for a treat.

For the next six months I toiled as I had never toiled before and so did Rachael and her daughters. I hauled lumber from Ellsworth to repair the buildings and fences, paid for with what cash remained of my winnings. I ploughed the field and Sarah and her mother broke up the soil and raked it until it was fine, while little Ruth tended the chores around the house including taking over the milking of the cows and goats from her older sister, then churning much of it to make butter and cheese. We planted the corn and prayed for a good harvest. Well, Rachael prayed, I just hoped. In the evenings we ate well. I would often ride my horse out onto the prairie and come back with grouse or prairie chicken and sometimes a deer. Rachael, often, made a delicious pie with the flour I had brought, of meat and vegetables and they were delicious. As a treat, she would make cookies and I would enjoy them along with the rare treat of milk and sugar in my coffee. At night I slept in the barn on a bed of hay covered with a blanket. Rachael slept alone in one of the two bedrooms, whilst the girls slept in the other.

After five months of my stay on the farm, Rachael’s gentleman friend came calling for the second time. The first time he came, I had been out hunting so I had not met him. However, Rachael had told him that she did not want him to come calling again and that she was going to make a go of the farm without his help. From what she told me, he had stormed off calling her some names that were not befitting of a whore never mind a lady. He had though, warned her that he would not let her get away with crossing him as he called it and promised her he would be back. We decided that after so long, he had given up and turned his attention elsewhere. We were wrong and here he was for a second time. He rolled up in a four wheeled carriage pulled by a nice looking bay. I was working at the back of the house repairing some broken clapboards and was so engrossed in what I was doing, that I was oblivious to what was happening at the front of the house. That was until I heard a man’s voice shouting angrily, then a scream. I ran round the building to be confronted by a scene that made my blood boil.

He was a big man dressed in a black town suit and sporting a Derby hat. He was standing facing Rachael with his big hands gripping her upper arms. He was shaking her and speaking angrily looking down at her with his face just inches from hers so that she found herself being sprayed with spittle. I managed to catch a few of the words as he growled angrily into her face.

‘After all I’ve done for you, this is the way you treat me. You are nothing but a fucking whore, bedding the first man that comes along.’

Sarah was standing off to one side with her hands clasped to her cheeks and tears rolling down her face. Her sister was hanging on tightly to her and sobbing uncontrollably.

I still had a two by four in my hand and he was so engrossed with harassing the woman that he didn’t notice, as with no hesitation, I strode up behind him and swung the timber crashing it across his ear and sending him flying into the dirt. Rachael screamed and fled to hug her two daughter as the man sprawled on the ground. He managed to get to his hands and knees and shook his head groggily. Then he looked up at me standing over him with the piece of timber in my hand.

‘You are dead mister,’ he mumbled. ‘Do you know who I am?’

‘Yes,’ I growled. ‘You are the dirty low down cockroach that beats up on defenceless women and scares children. Now I suggest you get the hell out of here before I make your ugly face even uglier with this piece of two by four.’

‘You are gonna regret this,’ he said as he clambered to his feet.

‘If I had a dollar for everybody who has said that to me, I would be rich now.’

He turned away and bent to retrieve the hat that had fallen from his head and on to the ground. As he did so, I saw him reach inside his coat and I was immediately on my guard. He turned quickly, with a gun in his fist and as he did so, I swung the timber again catching him full in the face and knocking him back against the wagon with blood and teeth flying from his mouth. He collapsed to the ground with the gun falling from his hand. I kicked it away as he lay groaning and trying to struggle to his knees. Rachael and the girls were standing off to one side in a huddle. I beckoned for them to retreat to the house, which they did huddled together as they walked, with the girls both sobbing as they leant on their mother.

After a short while, the man, I had never been told his name, got to his feet and leant on the side of the carriage. His mouth was a bloody mess with blood dripping down into his beard and in turn onto his shirt and vest while most of his moustache had turned crimson. His ear had split and part of it was hanging away from the rest. His eyes came into focus and he glared at me with silent hate burning in them.

‘Now,’ I said evenly. ‘You get back in that carriage and head off back to where you came from. If you come here again it won’t be a two by four I use on you; understand?’

He didn’t immediately speak, I didn’t think he was able the way his mouth had been smashed. But after climbing painfully into the carriage and just before he drove away he mumbled something that I barely comprehended, but the menace was there in his words.

‘This aint over mister,’ he mumbled through his swollen and blood soaked lips. Then he left leaving a trail of dust behind the departing carriage.

I went into the house to check that Rachael and her children were ok. Sarah was sitting alone on one of the easy chairs with her hands in her lap wringing them together and her head bowed. Rachael was sitting on the other easy chair with the sobbing, Ruth in her lap and was comforting her with little success. I removed my hat and turned to the woman.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ I said softly. ‘It was not something that children should see or be exposed to. My problem is, I act first and think about it later, sometimes I regret it but often it is necessary to get in the first blow.’

She stared at me horrified and open mouthed.

‘You could have killed him,’ she gasped.

‘I suppose I could if I had hit him harder.’

‘It doesn’t seem to bother you that you beat that old man nearly to death.’

‘I thought he was hurting you and frightening the girls.’

‘He was, but you could have just told him to stop. You didn’t need to beat him so badly with no chance to retaliate.’

‘He pulled a gun and I had no reason to believe he wouldn’t use it.’

Sarah suddenly spoke up from her chair by the wall.

‘He got what he deserved,’ she screamed. ‘He was hurting and threatening you mother, what would you have Andrew do, ask him politely to stop and risk getting a beating from him?’

‘Sarah!’ her mother gasped. ‘Why do you speak that way, there are other ways to stop him without beating him almost to death.’

‘I wish he had killed him,’ she shrieked.

‘No Sarah, you cannot mean that.’

‘I do mean it, he is a filthy old man and I wish he was dead.’

I looked at her directly and she dropped her eyes to look down at her hands again. Then I turned to Rachael and spoke carefully and evenly.

‘I will take Ruth outside and tend to the livestock,’ I said. ‘I think you and Sarah may have something to talk about.’

Rachael stared at me for a long time, then nodded before lifting the younger child down from her lap. I took Ruth’s hand and she allowed me to lead her out of the door. Something was obviously bothering Sarah and whatever it was, that man was involved. I did not want to speculate, but I feared something bad. I figured that she would open up to her mother if they were alone together.

After only a few days working on the farm, I had gained the younger child’s trust and we got along very well. She reminded me so much of my sister Lise, even though there was no physical resemblance. She was a happy child generally and was rarely seen without a smile on her pretty face and just like Lise, she was willing to take on any chore without question often working long hours to finish what was asked of her. Even the mare got along with her and happily approached her when she entered the coral with arms full of hay allowing her stroke her ears as she ate. Ruth busied herself raking the horse droppings that the mare and the mule had left in the coral into piles while I shovelled them into a wheelbarrow to use as manure. We both busied ourselves doing menial things. In Ruth’s case, I guess it was to help take her mind off the earlier violence. In my case, I was concerned with how Rachael was handling the task of getting Sarah to open up.

After nearly two hours, Rachael called us both into the house. She had made coffee for me and lemonade for Ruth. Sarah was nowhere to be seen. I looked at Rachael and noted how swollen her eyes were where she had obviously been crying. Ruth asked where Sarah was and her mother told her she wasn’t well and was sleeping.

‘Is she ok?’ I enquired.

‘I honestly don’t know,’ she replied. ‘The poor child has been keeping a secret and I had no idea what kind of turmoil her mind must have been in. I want to apologise to you Andrew and repeat what Sarah said. I too, now, wish you had killed that bastard Jacob Rivers.’

I didn’t pursue the matter. It was a private and personal thing between a mother and her daughter, I was not even related. However, I felt that as I was now the man about the place and as such the protector, I should seek retribution for whatever that man had done to the child.

A month later we had another visit from Rivers and he wasn’t alone. We saw him approaching from a long way away. This time he was on horseback and he had three men with him. I told Rachael to arm herself with the shotgun while I took up my Spencer and levered a bullet into the chamber, then I stood with it cradled on my left arm with my right hand holding it steady and my finger on the trigger. I positioned Rachael off to one side so that she could move slightly behind them without putting me in her line of fire. The two girls were made to wait in the house.

The horsemen rode up close and all four dismounted. Then they moved apart leaving about three feet between each man. They were all armed with revolvers that were slung low on their hips. Many ranchers in those days hired professional gunman to double as cattle drovers so I wasn’t too surprised by the way they were armed.

Rivers looked at Rachael who was flanking them with the shotgun. He pointed a finger at her.

‘You are a stupid woman,’ he lisped through his missing teeth. ‘I gave you a chance to have a good life and you turned it down for this dead man here.’ He nodded at me with his final word.

‘I don’t know why you are standing there with shot gun, you won’t use it, you could not shoot a man if your life depended on it so I suggest you go into the house and wait until I have finished my business here, then I will attend to you and the girls. Your boyfriend here is about to die so you would be wise to go where you cannot watch it happen.’

He turned to face me and he had what I considered to be, an evil grin on his swollen and still, bruised face, which wasn’t improved by the split in his lip and his lack of teeth.

‘Now mister,’ he said, ‘these here boys are gonna make you wish you had stayed wherever the hell it was you came from. All you need to do, is put that rifle down and take a beating and I will let you ride away with your life.’

I was slightly amused to see that each man had a hand hovering over his pistol grip as though it was some kind of competition and they were waiting for the starting bell. Could it be that they were expecting me to fight fair knowing how I was outnumbered, or worse, give in and let them beat me to death? I was leaning easily and relaxed against the wall of the house with the muzzle of my rifle casually pointing at the ground. Rivers was also wearing a gun on his thigh and as he turned back to face me, he seemed very relaxed and obviously, thought he had me at a disadvantage. So I suppose it came as a surprise when I brought the muzzle of the Spencer up and shot him in the gut. I didn’t wait to see him fall, I knew already that he was no longer capable of taking part in the action. I levered another shell into the chamber and shot the man farthest away before any of them had a chance to realise what had happened. The other two were bringing up their guns as I dived onto the ground and brought my pistol to bear. At the same time, I heard the report of the shotgun and the man nearest to Rachael went down having been peppered with buckshot. The last man panicked and got off his shot too quickly. It missed me by inches and the bullet went deep into the soft ground. Before he had a chance of another shot I had my pistol trained on him and I squeezed the trigger, the ball entered his chest and knocked him backwards into the dirt. I looked around to see all four men sprawled on the ground. The only one left alive was Rivers. He was close to death and was groaning loudly as he lay on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest. I guessed he was in great pain with hot lead in his gut, but I felt no pity for him. I looked across at Rachael. She was standing still with the shotgun hanging loosely from her hand. She looked as though she were in a trance, for she was staring blankly at the four bodies on the ground although I guessed, she was not really seeing them.

I walked over to her and gently took the shotgun from her grasp, before placing my arm around her waist so as to usher her towards the house. She suddenly turned to me and threw her arms around my neck before burying her face in my shoulder then she sobbed uncontrollably and very loudly. I felt her whole body shaking with the violence of her loud sobs as her tears soaked my shirt. I held her close and allowed her to cry on my shoulder. We stayed that way for many minutes until the sobbing slowly subsided and she became calm. Yet still, she clung on to me, either unwilling or unable to bring herself to let me go. Under the circumstances I felt guilt in that moment, because the warmth of her soft body, the closeness and the womanliness of her, brought stirrings of passion in me and I hoped that she didn’t sense it. It seemed ludicrous that having just killed four men, I was standing by the bodies in a passionate embrace with my co-killer. I fought against the feelings and took her wrists moving her arms from around my neck before placing both hands on her slender shoulders to turn her and walk behind her as I guided her to the doorway. The girls were cowering inside and relief lit up their drawn faces when I guided their mother into the room. I sat her at the table and went to a drawer in the dresser where there was a half-bottle of whiskey which I kept for the odd occasion when I needed something a little stronger than beer. I got it out and poured a little into each of two mugs, handing Rachael one and ordering her to drink. She still seemed to be in a state of shock, but she did as I told her and took a sip of the whiskey. The burning liquid must have caught in her throat, because she coughed violently, but at least it had brought her out of her stupor and eventually, she took another sip, but this time, keeping it down.

‘How you feeling.’ I asked.

‘I’m ok. I’m sorry about throwing myself onto you, but I felt so vulnerable and low after what happened out there, I just needed someone to hold me.’

‘Rachael that is understandable, it isn’t everyday day you kill a man,’

At the mention of killing a man, she let out a loud sob and placed both her hands over her mouth and nose.

‘It has left you feeling empty and confused,’ I continued. ‘I remember the feeling from my first time,’

‘Well in my case,’ she whispered. ‘There won’t be a second time, I could never do anything like that again no matter what.’

She looked across the table as I took a sip of my own whiskey.

‘What are we going to do now?’ She asked ‘Shouldn’t we get some help for Jacob?’

‘Wouldn’t do any good,’ I said evenly. ‘There’s nothing anybody could do for him. In fact it’s a good bet that he is dead now anyway.’

She stared at me with horror etched across her face.

‘How can you talk like that Andrew?’ She gasped. ‘Doesn’t it bother you at all, that you have shot and killed three men?’

‘I did not ask them to come here spoiling for a fight. Their intention was to kill me and take the farm from you, so, no it doesn’t bother me at all.’

‘Well it bothers me, I may not get a decent night’s sleep ever again. What bothers me more, is the way you casually talk about it as though it is all in a day’s work. I thought I had got to know you Andrew. But I can see I don’t know you at all, killing comes easy to you.’

‘Rachael, I am not proud of it. I don’t get any satisfaction out of killing. But I have been taught by past experiences, that if you do not kill first when in those kind of situations you will surely end up dead. In fact I have to confess, had you not been there, I would have shot as many of them as I could in the back while they were still dismounting from their horses and felt no remorse.’

She stared at me, then took a mouthful of whiskey from her mug, which brought on another bout of coughing.

‘I do not think you are an evil man Andrew,’ she said when the coughing had subsided. ‘But you are cold and are devoid of any kind of compassion or feelings. You have probably never ever loved anybody in your whole life.’

I thought of my sister Lise, her tiny body lying naked and brutalised in the dirt of the barn. I thought of the way she had tried to speak my name just before she died. I thought of the way I had sobbed uncontrollably as I cradled her small, broken body in my arms and looked down into her once sweet face which was now disfigured and covered in blood. I thought of Chameli, the beautiful, crazy, unpredictable, wonderful girl who I had fallen in love with but would likely, never see again and then I thought of what Rachael had said about me never having loved anybody and in my heart, I deeply wished it were true life would be so much easier to bear had I never loved.

Rachael must have seen the tension in my face and the hurt behind my eyes, because alarm showed on her face when she looked at me. I rose to my feet and walked to the door.

‘Where are you going?’ She asked anxiously.

‘I have to do something about those men lying in the dirt out there.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I guess I will have to return them to where they came from and then it is out of my hands.’

‘Are we in trouble?’ she whispered.

‘You aint. But I’m not sure about me. I don’t know how popular he was with the law in Ellsworth. I might have to move on.’

She gasped.

‘Surely nobody can blame you for what happened, it was self-defence.’

‘You did.’

‘What?’

‘Blamed me. You stopped just short of calling me a cold blooded killer.’

‘You know I did not mean that. Don’t leave Andrew. I will tell them what happened. Nobody will blame you when I tell them how you had no option and how you were just protecting me and my family. I will even tell them what Jacob did to Sarah if it will help.’

‘I’ll think on it,’ I said as I walked out of the door.

I loaded the bodies into the wagon and tied up their horses behind. Jacob Rivers had died whilst we were inside the house. But I felt nothing as I struggled to load his bulk onto the bed of the wagon and I wondered just how true Rachael’s words had been.

Rachael had previous told me where River’s ranch was situated and I had no trouble locating it. I rolled up to the main ranch house and stopped the wagon close to the stoop. I had my rifle resting on my knees with a bullet ready in the chamber just in case. A Mexican woman came through the door and onto the stoop, followed by a man of the same nationality. They were both a bit over middle age. The man came to the edge of the stoop while the woman remained just outside the door.

‘Can I help you Señor?’ He asked politely.

‘Are you the only people here?’

‘Señor Rivers is away on business with three of his ranch hands and the only other hand is out mending fences.’

‘Well mi amigo, I am afraid Mr Rivers has been involved in an unfortunate incident and has been shot dead along with his three ranch hands, I am here to deliver the bodies.’

He stared at me unbelievingly before turning to the woman and speaking rapidly, in Spanish. She placed her hands to her cheeks and gasped loudly, before turning and hurrying back into the house.

‘Do you know what happened Señor?’ he asked incredulously.

‘I do amigo, he and his men came to kill me and drive a young woman and her family off their farm. I could not let that happen and there was a gunfight. Your boss and his men came off worse. I find no satisfaction in telling you this, but that’s the way it panned out. Now I need you to help me remove them from the wagon, after which you can do with them whatever you deem necessary.’

He came down the steps from the porch, with disbelieve still written across his face. When he looked inside the wagon he sighed loudly.

‘Que Dios nos ayude,’ he said before making the sign of the cross.

We laid the bodies out side by side on the ground. Then I climbed back onto the seat of the wagon and urged the mule on.

‘Adios amigo,’ I called as I drove away.

He stood silently and watched.

On the way back I had time to think about the situation. I was adamant I would not go to prison again, so if anybody in authority came by to arrest me, I would have to fight, which meant that if I escaped, I would be a wanted man. But I would likely be a wanted man anyhow even if I ran now. Also there was a good chance that when they heard Rachael’s side of the story, they would be sympathetic with her plight and not arrest me. After a long debate with my conscience, I decided to stay and take my chances.

After unhitching the mule from the wagon and turning him loose in the coral, I entered the house. I had seen Sarah standing in the entrance to the barn watching me as I turned the mule into the coral and I could just make out her sister behind her. I guessed that Rachael had given them both chores to help take their mind off what had happened.

I entered the house. Rachael was standing with her back to me busying herself over the stove cooking something. She turned to face me and smiled sadly.

‘Andrew,’ she said. ‘I never meant those things I said. You are a good and kind man and have been like a father to the children. Nobody asked you to take us on and help us, especially after Ben left with your things, yet you did, even using your own money to buy supplies and a wagon and mule. Yet I acted like an ungrateful woman and threw it back in your face. Who could blame you if you want to leave us? I certainly won’t and I will always remember you with deep fondness.’ She hesitated, then said, ‘and love.’

I looked at her as she faced me. She was looking into my eyes and I held her eyes with mine as she walked towards me. It was as though what we did next had been rehearsed over and over and we were finally putting it into practice. We automatically melted into each other’s arms and I found her lips with mine. They were full, soft and warm as she pressed them passionately to mine. I wrapped an arm round her waist and pulled her to me feeling the fullness of her breasts pressing against my chest as I did so, rising and falling against me from her heavy breathing. She reached up to wrap her arms around my neck and the fingers of one of her hands caressed the hair on the back of my neck causing me to shudder from the wonderful sensation of her touch. She pulled away and took my hand in hers before leading me to her bedroom. I followed silently, not a word passed between us, we both knew instinctively what we wanted and what would happen.

But what we expected to happen in that passionate moment, never did. There was a shout from Sarah, followed by screaming from both girls. I pulled my hand from Rachael’s grasp and ran to the door. I opened it to a sight I had never seen before in my life and hoped that I never would ever again.

Coming from the Northwest was a huge cloud which blotted out the sun and made everywhere turn to darkness and it was travelling very fast in our direction. It looked like a dense flock of birds, but I could see that it wasn’t because some of them had already arrived and were alighting on anything edible. Before we could take a breath the huge cloud was upon us falling like giant flakes of snow until we were nearly ankle deep in grasshoppers. There were millions upon millions of them and still the cloud filled the sky as far as the eye could see blocking out the sun and falling onto the land like a rainstorm. They ate everything in their path. Grass, hay, vegetables and the newly raised corn in the field. The girls ran towards us as Rachael and I called on them to hurry. We got inside the house and shut the door. The floor inside was strewn with grasshoppers and they were already finding and eating vegetables and anything else within reach of their hunger. We stomped on as many of them as we could but more of them were finding their way in through cracks and holes in the sides of the building. We tore cloth and bedding to stuff the holes, but that was just more food for the insects and they quickly devoured any material we pushed into the holes. I could hear the animals in the coral whinnying and running around in nervous agitation. Any hay in the coral was soon devoured by the grasshoppers. We kept busy stomping on any of the insects that entered the room and more importantly, keeping them off any exposed vegetables. At one point I looked through a window to see swarms of them devouring clothing on the wash line. I decided that the holes in the building needed to be blocked properly or we would be overrun by the insects. I went outside and walked upon a carpet of grasshoppers up to an inch deep. I went to the well with my complete attire covered in the grasshoppers, all trying to eat the clothes off my back. I kept swatting them away, but each of them I removed were replaced by many more. I hauled water from the well and detached the bucket from the rope. Then I took it and a spade to near the vegetable patch where there was clay beneath the soil and dug up soil and clay and put it into the bucket, mixing it into a thick paste before taking it back to the house and using the wet mixture to fill the holes and cracks. I had to repeat this action three times, all the time swatting the insects from my clothing, until every place of access to the grasshoppers was filled. Then before entering the house, I brushed as many of them from my clothing as I could. When I got inside, Rachael and the girls swatted away the remaining insects from my, now holey shirt and pants, until, finally, with nearly all the insects swatted down onto the floor, I was able to sit down exhausted. The floor was strewn with the, mostly, dead insects. Rachael swept them into piles and shovelled them up before putting them into the burning stove. At last we could rest as the sound of the insects falling onto the roof and against the windows like the sound of heavy rain filled the room. There was nothing else we could do but stay inside and wait. I wasn’t too worried about the animals at that time. The insects would do them no harm apart from eat their food. But that was a worry that would have to wait.

Night came and with it silence as the grasshoppers no longer landed on the roof or beat against the glass of the windows as they came. We had been besieged and trapped inside. Now we hoped we could get some respite. I opened the door slightly to see grasshoppers an inch deep in the dim light cast by the lamps, either crawling or hopping around searching for food. Some had already made their way inside before I was able to slam the door shut. I decided that all we could do was wait inside and hope by morning they would be gone.

Rachael prepared a meal but the girls could not eat. Rachael herself, ate very little and it was left to me to eat as much of the food as I was able. After the food, the girls went to their room, though I felt that sleep would be a difficult state of relaxation for the poor girls to achieve. Rachael and me sat at the table with a mug of coffee each and talked. Most of the talk was about the devastation that was being caused by the grasshoppers. However, no matter how much we talked about it, there was nothing to be done until morning when we could assess the situation. Nothing was said about what happened between us earlier and what was about to happen. It was as though we had decided upon a silent pact to put our feelings to one side until the present crisis was resolved. Much later, when we had exhausted the subjects of polite conversation, Rachael said goodnight and retired to her bed. I watched her go and as she parted the curtain to her bedroom, she turned to look at me, she was still a very attractive woman, but the events of the last couple of days showed on her drawn face and in her tired eyes. She gave me a small, sad smile and disappeared into the room.

I pulled the two easy chairs together and with my feet resting on one and sitting reclined on the other and covered by a blanket, I tried to sleep. It was doubtful that any of us would find it easy to sleep. I could hear the girls murmuring soft words to each other as they lay together and I guessed that the events of the day had heightened their senses so that sleep would not be easy to come by until they had relaxed sufficiently.

I lay awake thinking, for what seemed like many hours. I worried about the killing of Rivers and his men and if there would be consequences and a price to pay. I worried about the thought of going back in prison and decided I would die rather than let that happen. I pondered on the idea of going outside, saddling my horse and just riding away, getting the hell out and starting again. Then I dismissed that idea. I could not abandon Rachael and the girls the way Ben had done. I didn’t Love Rachael, not the way I loved Chameli. But I thought a hell of a lot of her and was very fond of the girls being almost like a father to them and I believed that was the way they saw me also. I could do worse than to settle down with them and become a proper family.

I felt myself slipping away into sleep when a hand brushed my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Rachael standing beside my chair. I could just make out her features in the darkened room. She had let her brown hair down from the way she normally wore it tucked up into a bun at the back of her head. It was long and thick and it tumbled down over her shoulders and down her back in small waves. She was dressed in a long white cotton nightgown and her feet were bare. She took my hand and gently tugged my arm. I climbed to my feet and allowed her to lead me to her room. Once inside she turned and pressed her body to mine as she wrapped her arms around my neck reaching up to kiss me with her soft lips. I pulled her closer with an arm around her waist and she came willingly. We stood for a long time enjoying the embrace and tasting each other with the passion of our kiss. I could feel her breasts under the thin material of her gown, pressing against my chest as I thrust myself against her and pulled her tight to me. After a short time, our passion got the better of us and we pulled apart. She grasped the bottom of the gown in her small fingers and lifted it over her head to stand naked and shivering before me. I removed the underwear I had been sleeping in so that we were both finally, naked. We melted into each other in the dark and fell silently onto the bed.

When daylight came, I dressed and went outside. All but a few of the grasshoppers had gone and I wondered how many more farms would feel the brunt of the swarm. The cloud of grasshoppers must have been many miles wide and god only know how long. However, my concern was with what happened here and after looking around at the devastation, my heart sank and Rachael and the girls, after joining me later, all burst into floods of tears. There was nothing left to salvage. Everything edible had been eaten. Even the clothing on the wash line was in tatters. However, they could be replaced as could other things if we could have sold the corn we were about to harvest. We had put everything into making a success of a good harvest of corn, but I knew even before we went to the crops, what to expect.

We looked out over the cornfield in disbelieve. It was as though nothing had been planted there. It was simply many acres of nothing but soil. Not one single green shoot was left nor one ear of corn. Everything we had toiled for so long to grow, had been eaten right down to the soil. All three of us stood side by side and stared until it dawned on us what this meant. We had lost everything to the grasshoppers. In just a few hours they had taken everything that had taken us months to build up. Rachael and her children would be destitute and penniless. The cows and goats would starve to death through lack of grazing. Every single blade of grass for miles around had been eaten. Even the wild animals and game birds would either starve or be forced to move away from the area. The few trees around had been stripped of leaves and bark and it was as though a huge fire had swept through the plains, burning everything in its path. It was so hard to comprehend that insects could cause so much devastation and leave the whole land barren. It wasn’t until much later that I found out just how bad for the whole of Kansas it had been. Most of Kansas and Nebraska had fallen prey to the grasshoppers. Thousands of miles of plantation had been destroyed by them, including cotton, wheat and corn. Trees had been stripped bare and huge swathes of the great planes had been eaten right down to the last blade of grass. Many of the livestock on ranches and farms starved to death after what the people later, called, the “Rocky Mountain Locusts,” had left.

For many hours after we took in the extent of what had happened to the farm. I wondered around in a trance trying to figure out what to do. Rachael and her daughters huddled together and looked around in disbelief, until occasionally, one of them would let out a loud wail, which set them all off crying. The first thing I had done after checking the crops, was to check on the mare and the mule. Apart from having no feed and hundreds of grasshoppers floating on top of the water in the trough, they seemed fine. The three cows and five goats we had, were wondering around in the field, hopelessly and futilely trying to find food. Eventually, I forced myself to consider the implications of what had happened and decided that we needed to sit down and talk about what to do about it. First, I went to the barn and after pulling open the door, I was relieved to find that only a few hundred grasshoppers had got in and although most of the hay we had stored there had been eaten, there was still a good amount left. If we used it sparingly, we might still be able to keep the livestock from starving, at least for a few days.

All three of us retreated back to the house. There was little else we could do outside. Sarah, knowing my love of coffee, busied herself boiling water. At least we still had a good stock of food and plenty of coffee. Ruth sat with Rachael and me at the table and after making coffee for us all, including a weak mug full for Ruth, Sarah joined us.

I figured we had two options. One was to stay and start over. The other was to leave and start over somewhere else. If we stayed here, we would likely go hungry or starve just like the animals were destined to do. We needed rain for the grass to grow and even if it did rain, the grass wouldn’t grow quick enough to prevent the animals from starving. We had no seed to sow for another crop and even if we did, we wouldn’t be able to sow them until the next year. We could probably live on whatever vegetables we had in stock and in the ground, at least for a short time. We had a stock of meat both dried and some fresh. But once that was gone, there would be no more. Any animals left in the area would quickly starve and their carcasses, any that hadn’t been picked off by vultures and coyotes, would quickly turn rotten and inedible.

We had sat in silence for a long time, each of us, I figured, deep in thought. Then finally, Rachael spoke.

‘I should have sold the farm to Jacob,’ she said bitterly. ‘Then there would have been no killing and he would have had to take on this problem himself.’

I stared at her in disbelief.

‘Do you know what you are saying?’ I snapped. ‘You said yourself that if he took over the farm you and the girls would be part of the package, is that what you would be willing to sacrifice?’

‘Well at least we would be secure and safe.’

I stared hard at her face, then before I had a chance to think about what I was saying.

‘I do not know what he did to Sarah and I don’t want to know,’ I snapped. ‘But whatever it was I’m guessing it wasn’t something she would have been happy about. Would you be happy to place her in a situation where she would be vulnerable to him twenty four hours a day?’

Sarah suddenly jumped to her feet and ran out of the room. I could hear her sobbing loudly as Rachael followed her into her bedroom. I held my face in my hands and groaned. I should have thought before opening my big mouth. It would have been easier to have spoken to Rachael in private.

Eventually, Rachael came back and sat down resting her elbows on the table. She cupped her chin in her hands and looked at me.

‘Sorry,’ I said gently. ‘I spoke out of turn.’

‘But you were right,’ she said wearily. ‘I would have been putting my lovely daughter in danger just for the sake of security and it wasn’t fair of me to say what I said. Jacob Rivers was an evil man and I think the world is well rid of him.’

I reached over to squeeze her arm reassuringly.

‘How is she?’ I asked.

‘She is ok now. It’s just that talking about him brought it back to her. I have reassured her that we will never let anything bad happen to her again.’

‘I’ve been thinking,’ I ventured. ‘I think we should pack up and leave here, at least for the time being.’

‘How can we do that? We have nowhere to go.’

‘I have a farm in Missouri. I think it will be pretty run down by now, but it is in a prime position with good farming land and grazing for livestock. I always planned to go back there one day and I guess now is as good a time as any.’

She looked at me intently.

‘Is there nothing we can do here?’ she enquired.

‘I don’t see what can be done to improve things and the longer we wait the more chance there is that the animals will starve. I don’t know what to expect on the journey and for all I know, the same thing that has happened here, has also happened in Missouri, but unless we go now and at least give ourselves a chance, we will lose everything.’

‘But what about this place? This was our home, we were given this land by the Government to settle. What will become of it?’

Maybe you can come back and reclaim it one day when the grass and vegetation has re-grown, but for now, we need to find a better place to live while we still have a chance. We will take with us as much hay and vegetables as we can carry so that we can try to keep the livestock from starving and with luck we will eventually come upon parts of the prairie that the grasshoppers didn’t touch.’

I had another reason to be gone from here. At the moment all the mayhem and disruption caused by the grasshoppers would ensure that nobody would come calling yet, about the death of Jacob Rivers and his men. But I feared the longer we stayed, the more chance there was that sooner or later somebody in authority would be coming here for me. However, I never voiced my anxiety to Rachael.

She looked into my face for a long time, then suddenly came to a decision.

‘Let’s do it,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘The sooner the better.’

We decided that in order to make a go of my farm in Missouri we needed the livestock. Therefore we needed to keep them alive and fed on the journey. We set to, all four of us, baling the hay and compressing it into as small a bundles as we were able. Luckily the wagon had high sides so we were able to fill it with almost all the hay left in the barn as well as, as many of the root vegetables we could dig up. The remainder, we fed to the animals so that they would have a good start for the journey. After that, we only packed personal belongings and odd items of furniture, nothing big. But we did take all the food we had, both for the journey and for when we got there. Before we left, Rachael and the girls took a tearful walk around the farm. Ruth had been born on the farm and Sarah had only been very young when they had settled there, so I guessed it must be a wrench for them to leave and travel over the plains to another state. Ruth had never been any further than Ellsworth in her entire life and I doubt if Sarah even remembered much about her life before coming to live here. However, I think it must have been hardest for Rachael to leave. She and Ben had settled here after only having been married a couple of years or so with a young child and big hopes for the future. For Rachael, it had all gone wrong when Ben found he could not take the pressure of trying to build up a farm and turned to drink. Finally, running out on her, shattering her dreams and leaving her to cope alone with two young children to raise. Strangely, she had never spoken a bad word about Ben, despite what he had done to her and I was sure she was still in love with him even in the face of all his failings and selfish acts. I thought of Chameli and figured we both had someone, somewhere who would be nothing more, in the future, than a memory of the past.

THIRTEEN

After just over a week we arrived in Clair County Missouri and headed for the farm up on which I had been raised. We had first, stopped at Osceola to make sure I still had a claim on the farm but all official records has been burned during the sacking of Osceola by Jayhawkers in eighteen sixty one. As far as they were concerned, I had a legitimate claim on the land. They were sympathetic to my claim because of what had happened to my family. I was told that they had been discovered by a drifter who happened to be passing through and he had reported the atrocity to the Osceola authorities. They had found the decomposed bodies and buried them in a communal grave on our land. They opted not to tell me any details of what had happened to them, simply telling me that they had all been murdered by persons unknown. I guessed that was to save me any torment and I in turn, omitted to tell them that I had already discovered the bodies weeks earlier than they had.

What was left of the burned out buildings had long since collapsed. But there was still good grazing land and good soil for planting, so that was a start. It was sundown when we finally arrived so there was little we could do apart from build a fire and prepare a meal from what little food we had left.

The journey there had not been easy. The girls had walked most of the way, herding the goats and cows, alternately changing places with Rachael or me while one or other of us drove the wagon pulled by the mule. We had fed the livestock sparingly with the hay every day. Everywhere we travelled and as far as the eye could see, had been stripped bare by the grasshoppers, not a blade of grass remained nor a leaf on the trees. The hay we had wasn’t nearly enough to keep the animals going strongly, with the amount of feed they needed for such an arduous journey. But what little we fed them, at least, kept them from starving. We did make sure, however, that the mule was reasonably well fed because he did the most work pulling the heavy wagon. The humans fared better and we were able to eat pretty well thanks to canned fruit and vegetables and stocks of biscuits, Bread and hard tack. Plus the occasion fish I was able to catch and a good stock of beef jerky. We let the chickens loose every time we stopped to scratch in the dirt for insects and roots so they fared pretty well. As we neared the Missouri border, we began to see signs of vegetation and gradually, things improved for both the animals and us because with an abundance of vegetation so there were more wild creatures for me to shoot for fresh meat.

The next morning we took stock of what we had and what we would need to make the place into a working farm. It did not have the buildings we had had at the place in Kansas. But if we had stayed there, the animals would have starved and we would have been left with nothing. At least this way, we would be able to make butter and cheese to sell and buy seed and lumber.

I set about salvaging lumber from what was left of the buildings. There was still plenty left over from what hadn’t burned. The barn was still intact, although after more than eight years parts of the walls had rotted somewhat. I had to force myself to enter the place where I had found my sister lying in the dirt, defiled, tortured and left to die in agony. I stood just inside the doorway and stared at the place where I had found her and all the old anger returned. I knew then, that I would not rest until I had caused as much pain and suffering to Singer as he had done to her and then seen him in the ground. I knew I would not ever be able to rest and settle down with Rachael and the girls until my business with him was done. However, I kept my thoughts from Rachael. I would tell her my plans once I had got the farm on a firm footing. She would not like it having been abandoned once before. But if I did not make it back, she would at least have a working farm and I would not go until it was in as good a condition as it could be.

The stone and adobe foundations of the old house were still intact. So I built as good a shelter as I could onto it with what wood I could salvage. I cut branches from the trees half a mile and further away and hauled them back to the farm for the roof, then I laid sod on top of them to seal it. By the time I had finished, we had a small, but cosy place to live. Eventually, I would improve it and build a couple of bedrooms, but for now, it wasn’t too bad. The old stove was rusty but serviceable and I was able to clean it up enough to make it usable. We had brought lamps and kerosene with us so we had light for the evenings. From the fence around the house, I built a small coup to house the chickens and hoped that once they got established, they would start laying.

Rachael and the girls hadn’t been idle, busying themselves cleaning the place up, repairing fences around the coral so that we had somewhere for the livestock at night. Ruth herded the goats and cows to the prairie during the day and they soon regained weight and became healthy. Sarah hunted for and found the plants she needed to coagulate the milk that the animals yielded for her cheese making. She was very good for someone so young and it wasn’t long before we had a stock of butter and cheese that we could sell.

For the next couple of months we worked hard and I found myself enjoying the work and having my adopted family around me. All three of them put everything into their individual chores, whether it was milking, butter and cheese making, tending the livestock or cutting prairie grass to store as hay in the barn for winter. I repaired and built fences and covered holes in the barn. I also brought back game and fish from hunting trips so that we were kept well fed. Rachael had made a clay oven and with the flour we had left and eggs and milk from the cows, she made some delicious bread, cookies and biscuits. But most importantly she made the most delicious pies I had ever tasted. We also got the fields ready for planting, fields I knew well from the past. The soil here was good and we felt, unless we had another disaster like the one in Kansas, we should get a good yield from the crops. For the first time since the war, I felt useful and even wanted. Rachael and I had become closer than ever and even the girls had come to accept me as their father. Ben, their real father was just a distant memory to them and I doubt if Ruth, the youngest child even remembered him at all. However, my own memories would not fade quite as easily. Every time I entered the barn, I could see Lise lying in the exact same spot I had found her all those years ago. The memory of her small, abused and mutilated body was as vivid now as it had been then and I knew that I would never be free of it until I had finished what I promised I would do.

We decided that I would make the trip to Kansas City to sell what we had produced. We decided we would get a better price in a big city and there would be more general stores where I could pick up the type of supplies we needed. Rachael had already made trips twice a week to Osceola to sell butter before it turned rancid and a small amount of cheese. What she had made from the sales, she had been able to spend on essential supplies and personal goods.

Before I set off, I hugged the girls and kissed Rachael. I had already hitched the mule to the wagon so after our farewells, I set off on the journey to Kansas City. I wouldn’t be back until the next day so I told Rachael to keep the shotgun handy just in case. I would not have left them if I had known at the time what was going to happen. I turned to wave to them as they watched me go and I thought what a good looking and pretty trio they were. In that moment, I felt that my luck was indeed, turning and that life was good, I had a readymade family in the girls who I had come to love as though they were my own daughters and I was becoming more fond of Rachael every day. Life, I decided, didn’t get much better than this.

There was no way I could I have known as I drove the wagon away from the farm, that, that was the last time I would see Rachael and her wonderful daughters ever again.

The trip to Kansas City went without incident. I did not get as good a price as I hoped for the cheese. But I was able to buy cloth, which Rachael badly needed to make clothing, and other essentials. I slept in the bed of the wagon overnight behind the livery to save money on paying for a room. I did, however treat myself to one beer in one of the quieter saloons. The next morning I set off to make the return journey back to the farm. I was looking forward to seeing Rachael and the girls again even though I had been away for just two days. I had bought candy for the girls and could not wait to see their faces when I presented them with it. For Rachael, I had bought a used book by Jane Austen called “Sense and Sensibility” and two Charles Dickens novels, also used, like the ones my mother would read to me when I was young. “Oliver Twist” and “A Christmas Carol.” I know that Rachael had enjoyed reading and until she met ben, had read as many books as she could get her hands on. So, I figured, the books would be a rare treat for her and also for the girls and me if we could persuade her to read to us in the evenings.

It was early evening when I neared the farm and still light so they would have seen me coming from nearly half a mile away. I strained to see them through the haze of the lowering sun but found it difficult to make out much. If I knew Ruth she would get astride the mare and ride her bareback to come and meet me. She and the mare had become close much to my surprise and it seemed they had even conspired to shun me, so that I was finding it more and more difficult to get my horse to do what I wanted.

It was when I got close to the farm that I realised something was wrong. There was no sign of my adopted family. They should have been running towards me now waving and laughing as they always had. I pulled up to the farm and jumped down from the wagon. I had noticed straight away the unusual amount of hoof prints all around, the sign of quite a few horsemen. But there were no signs of a struggle. The door to the cabin I had built was wide open and I entered with gun in hand, fearful of what I would find. The place was empty with little sign of a struggle. Someone had, clearly, taken them by surprise and had taken them away without any sign of resistance. It was as though they had just vanished into nothing. I looked around for sign and saw that the horsemen had rode away towards the west. I felt almost sure that the intruders were Indians probably Comanche or Kiowa. I had heard that raiding parties of renegade Indians were encroaching into Missouri from the Great Plains of Kansas having moved up there from Texas. They were finding easy pickings at the small, isolated farms that could be found all over Missouri. I looked around and went to the barn. Inside I found that the cows had been killed and butchered. Much of the prime joints of meat having been cut out which proved to me that it would have been Indians that had raided the farm. The goats and chickens were gone and so was my horse. I had heard that the Comanche and Cheyenne along with Kiowa had joined forces to get revenge for the wholesale slaughter of the buffalo that they relied on for meat. The buffalo hunters where wiping out the huge herds that roamed the great plains of Texas and Kansas and though I had sympathy with the Indians I would not hesitate to kill every last one of the band that had taken my family, were I given the chance.

I was full of remorse for what had happened. It seemed whenever I went away and left anybody who happened to be close to my heart, even for only a short time, tragedy would come calling. Whatever or whoever I touched always seemed to be struck down by misfortune. However, I was not a man to sit down and dwell on misfortune, I needed to act quickly. I guessed that the Indians if it were Indians and I’m sure it was, had watched me leave and had waited until all three females were together in the house before surprising them and taking them without a struggle. That, at least told me that they did not want to kill them or they could have, either, simply attacked and shot them down, or picked them off one by one from a distance. My guess was that they wanted them alive to be used as trade for weapons or other goods. That at least, gave me hope that I could get them back.

I drove the wagon to Osceola and stopped by the sheriff’s office to report what had happened. He told me he had not heard any other reports of Indian raids in the area, but he would organise a posse and see if we could pick up their trail. Rachael had become known to the townsfolk because of her frequent visits to sell butter and she had often had one or both of her daughters with her. They were well liked and regarded as a pleasant young family, so there was quite a big gathering of armed men willing to ride in pursuit of their kidnappers. I was able to borrow a horse by using the wagon and mule including the supplies, as surety.

We picked up the trail of a few horses, maybe as many as half a dozen although one of them would surely be the mare. We followed the tracks until we came upon an empty Indian campsite. We could see where many tepees had been and fires, also signs of large bands coming and going. It was here that we got confused, because the band had split into two groups. One had gone west towards Kansas and the other South West heading for Arkansas or Oklahoma. This was the largest group and they were pulling many travois. This, I guessed, would be the group that would be holding Rachael and her children and I opted to follow them. The posse had brought little by way of provisions and neither had I, we had been hoping to catch up to the Indians before they had gone too far and only expected to be on their trail for a couple of nights. But they had made better progress than we had expected. After heading South West we eventually found where they crossed into Kansas still heading South west in the direction of Oklahoma. From that point, the sheriff apologised and stated that they could go no further. They intended to get more supplies from nearby Carthage and go home. I was angry, but understood. Most of the men had their own families to care for and in light of what had happened to mine, were reluctant to leave them alone for long. I accompanied them to Carthage to spend what little money I had left, on supplies. However, when we got there I expressed my gratitude to the men in the posse who, between them, collected enough money to enable me buy enough supplies to be able to pursue the Indians for a few more days at least.

For the next couple of days, I followed the sign into Kansas, though the signs were that they were heading for Oklahoma. But I had already lost a lot of time going back to Carthage for supplies. I urged my horse on harder than I should have being frantic with worry and impatience to get my adopted family back. The horse, a small Roan, was willing, but wasn’t in the best condition and was getting on in years. It did not help that I had my supplies slung over the saddle adding more weight. So I guess I should not have been surprised when he, eventually, gave up exhausted. I dismounted and led him at a slow walk until I could find water and grazing where we could rest. I was frustrated that I was losing distance between myself and the Indians, but there was nothing I could do, if the horse died, or gave out, I would be in no condition to follow the Indians. The distance between us would be too great and they could disappear into the Comanche nation and be lost to me. I decided to camp by a small creek overnight and continue the pursuit in the morning when I hoped the horse would have at least, partly recovered.

At sunup I saddled and mounted the horse, urging him on. He was very willing but his will wasn’t enough. He gave out after a few miles and stopped with his head hanging and his forelegs splayed, breathing heavily. I knew he was finished along with my hopes of finding Rachael and the girls anytime soon. I unsaddled him and removed my supplies. Then I drew my pistol and placed it to his head. It was over quickly and he slumped to the ground. I hated doing it but the alternative was to leave him to starve and possibly be tormented to death by coyotes and vultures.

I needed to find a township and following the Indian trail any further, would not lead me to one. They would avoid them and head towards the plains of Oklahoma, where there was game and possibly buffalo.

I picked up the saddle and as many of the supplies as I could carry and headed west on foot. It was hard going carrying so much and the further I travelled, the more of a burden they became. I needed to rest frequently as the weight slowed me down. Also the boots I wore, were more suited to riding than walking. Eventually, I came across a rutted trail that looked as though it had been used often judging by the many wagon and horse hoof tracks. At least now it looked as though I had something to follow and a destination to head for. I did not know which settlements or townships were in the area, but the trail, clearly led to some form of civilisation. I followed the trail for a few miles which went South and West until I became exhausted and collapsed onto my saddle at the side of the tracks, where I took a drink from my canteen and chewed on some jerky. I was undecided whether to go on or stay here for the night. The sun was going down and I guessed there would be only a couple of hours or so of daylight left. I was tired and my feet and legs ached so I stretched out my legs having removed my boots and began to doze with my head resting on my saddle. I was suddenly brought back to awareness by the sound of wheels and horses hooves. I sprang to my feet and looked to where the sound came from. A wagon pulled by a team of two horses and driven by one man was approaching from the direction I was headed. I waved him down as he came close to my position. It was driven by an elderly man with grey hair and a beard. He looked like a farmer by the way he was dressed and by the contents of the wagon, which included stakes and wire. The man had a shotgun standing by the seat close at hand where he could easily reach it.

‘Howdy’ he said affably.

‘Good day sir,’ I replied. ‘Can you tell me how far I am from the nearest town?’

He studied me for a few moments before speaking, then reached in his pocket and pulled out a plug of tobacco before taking a bite from it. He chewed on it for a few seconds then shifted it into the inside of his cheek.

‘That,’ he said slowly. ‘Depends on which way you are headed.

‘I was heading for where you came from.’

‘Well then, seems like you are heading for the nearest town. Coffeyville is about five miles the way you are heading and it’s around twenty five miles the other way to Parsons.’

‘Much obliged,’ I said pleasantly. ‘I think I’ll rest up here for the night, five miles aint far on horseback, but it is a long way to travel afoot.’

‘Do you wanna tell me how you came to be afoot?’

‘My horse wasn’t up to the journey I was making, he gave out on me.’

‘Sorry to hear that, I can only guess that you were pushing the poor animal too hard. Aint nobody after you is there?’

‘Other way round as it happens. I was hunting a bunch of Indians but the chances of me finding them were already slim. Now, without a horse, my chances have become almost impossible.’

‘Well I never heard of a solitary man going after a bunch of Indians before. You are either crazy or they stole something valuable from you and you don’t seem crazy to me.’

‘They stole my family,’ I said quietly. ‘Now I need to get to where I can find work so that I can earn enough money to resume my search.’

He looked at me quizzically, but his eyes held no compassion or sympathy for my plight.

‘How do you plan on getting them back if you find them?’ ‘He asked. ‘I would be interested to hear how a man alone plans to surround an Indian camp and demand the return of his family.’

I glared at him angrily. His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me.

‘I don’t believe the way I go about getting them back is any of your business old man. Now I thank you for your help and I bid you good day, I’m sure you wish to be on your way.’

He looked me up and down for a bit and I could feel my anger rising.

‘You are dressed like a farmer,’ he said casually.

‘I was farming when they was took,’ I replied evenly.

He glanced at the revolver on my hip.

‘Can you use that thing?’ he asked.

‘I manage ok.’

‘You ever killed a man?’

‘None of your goddamned business.’

Suddenly he changed his attitude.

‘I’m sorry for your loss son,’ he said mildly. ‘But in a few weeks’ time whichever tribe them Indians belonged to are going to be scattered all over the great plains. The chances of you finding your family will be almost impossible unless you come upon them by chance. Even then I don’t see how one man alone can defeat a band of Indians, no matter how good he is with a gun. If you plan on getting work before you continue your search, then, that will mean more of a gap between them being took and you locating them. In which case, they are lost to you and I am sorry son, but that’s the truth of it.’

‘I’ll find them,’ I said defiantly, although inside I wasn’t convinced. ‘No matter how long it takes, I will find them.’

He squinted at me through narrowed eyes and shot a stream of tobacco juice from between his lips into the dirt.

‘Well I admire your dedication son and to prove it, I am gonna turn this here wagon round and take you back the way I came to Coffeyville.’

‘Why would you do that?’

‘I like your attitude and loyalty to your family. You are determined to go after them even though there is hardly a chance that you will get them back.’

‘That aint a good reason to turn round and take me to Coffeyville.’

‘No it aint a good reason, but I was undecided whether to head off home today or wait ‘til tomorrow and as I see it, meeting you here was fate. It’s only five miles back to Coffeyville. We can be there in an hour and I fancy sleeping in a bed tonight instead of the bed of my wagon.’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘a ride to town would be welcomed by my aching feet I cannot deny that. I am very grateful to you sir.’

‘Name’s Emmet, Emmet Brownlee.’

I reached up to shake his hand.

‘Hello Emmet. My name is Daniel Anderson and I am very pleased to meet you, especially as you are so willing to turn around and take me to town.’

I don’t know what motivated me to use one of my previously used aliases from the past. But for some reason, I didn’t feel that I wanted to give my real name. I had not as yet, figured out his real reason for offering to take me to Coffeyville, but I was sure it wasn’t only because he wanted to sleep in a real bed that particular night.

I threw my saddle and saddle bags into the back of the wagon. My rifle I retained and sat with it across my lap as I sat next to Emmet. He turned the wagon and headed back to Coffeyville.

‘So did you have a plan?’ he asked after we had travelled a short distance.

‘Nope,’ I replied. ‘The plan was to find them first and weigh up the possibilities afterwards.’

‘Well don’t take this the wrong way son, but you are a brave fool. The first thing you should have done was to find an army post and inform them of what had happened. They would likely have sent patrols out looking for them. The chances of them locating your family, even for the army, would have been slim. But their chances would have been better than yours. You wear a gun on your hip and carry a rifle. But would you be able to shoot a man? You are a farmer not a gunman, so I suggest you think about how it would feel facing a man, even an Indian, with a gun in your hand. If you hesitated just slightly, to use it, you could be dead.

‘Thanks for the advice,’ I said pleasantly. ‘I’ll bear it in mind,’

He looked at me quizzically before turning his head and spitting a stream off tobacco juice over his side of the wagon.

‘Maybe you were a soldier during the war.’ He continued. ‘I guess that would give you some experience of fighting with arms.’

‘I guess it would,’ I answered none committed.

I could feel his eyes looking intently at me again, but I continued to stare at the trail ahead.

‘You aint an easy man to read son,’ he said. ‘You don’t give much away either. Makes me wonder if you really are what you seem.’

‘I’m just a hard working farmer mister, who had the misfortune to have my entire family kidnapped because I left them alone while I went to sell our produce. My only aim, is to get them back and that is what I intend to do if it takes the rest of my life to do it.’

‘Well, I have to say, admire your resolve son and I hope you eventually, achieve what you set out to do. But you aint going nowhere without a horse and money. When we get to Coffeyville, I’m gonna buy you a beer and put a proposition to you.’

I looked sideways at him and it was his turn to stare at the trail ahead, his face emotionless.

‘What kind of proposition?’

‘Let’s wait until we get to town. It will sound better over a cool beer. But I will promise you, it’s nothing underhand.’

I fell into silence listening to my thoughts. I knew there had to be more to offering me a ride to town, than a comfortable night’s sleep. But why would he want to offer me, a stranger to him a proposition. There must have been men just like me in Coffeyville he could have asked.

When we arrived in town, he parked the wagon behind the livery and left instructions with the livery man to tend his horse and watch the wagon for which he was charged a hefty fee. He treated me to a good meal for which I assured him I would pay him back, before we made our way to a saloon where we found a table in a corner of the room and drank our beer. It tasted good after the dust of the trail and the long trek I had made on foot before meeting Emmet. We drank in silence for a few minutes enjoying the cool bitterness of the beer. Then he looked up from his glass and spoke.

‘Come and work for me for six months and I will give you a good horse and a decent wage with all board and lodgings thrown in. All I ask is that you work as hard as you would have done on your own place.’

I had half expected something like what he proposed, though I did not understand what he saw in me and why he chose to offer me such a chance.

‘That’s a good offer sir, but in six months the chances of finding my family will have all but disappeared.’

‘So what do you intend to do in town, get a job in a store or a saloon? Even if you could find somebody who was willing to set you on, it would take a year, what with having to pay for your board and meals and other stuff, just to save enough for a half decent horse.’

I considered what he had said and agreed with his viewpoint. The wages for sweeping a store or tending a bar would be so small, that I would only just have enough to get by without saving for a horse and if I was serious about searching this vast land for my family, I would also need a packhorse and provisions. I supposed I could try to build up some wealth by gambling, but this was not a town that would have big gambling establishments, so the small stakes I could win, wouldn’t go far towards amassing a fortune. That was supposing I could win on a regular basis anyway. On the way to town, I had been thinking about stealing a horse and doing a robbery, but dismissed that idea. Apart from my own fear of spending more years in prison, it would do Rachael and the girls no good either, if I was in jail out of action for years and unable to search for them.

‘Why me?’ I asked.

‘I liked the look of you as soon as I saw you son, to be honest you remind me a lot of my own boy who I lost fighting for the Union at Gettysburg, he was just twenty one and had been in the army only six months when he was killed. I guess he would be around your age now had he lived. How old are you if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘I’m twenty nine sir and I am sorry for your loss. But if the only reason you want to hire me, is because I remind you of your lost son, then I am afraid you may be attempting to do the right thing for the wrong reason.’

‘That isn’t the only reason, though I have to admit that is what swayed me in your favour. But you have experience of farming seeing as how you ran your own farm and you are young and strong. I think that you would be an asset.’

I was desperate to continue my search for Rachael and the girls, but knew that I was in no position to do so as things stood. He was offering the only chance I had of getting back on my feet with a horse and money so that my search could eventually, go on. I made my decision there and then.

‘I’ll do it on one condition,’ I stated.

‘Son you are in no position to dictate conditions, but let’s hear it anyway.’

‘When we get to your place, you loan me a horse so that I can ride to the nearest army post and inform them of what happened, that way I will know that there’s a possibility of them, at least, being located by the army.’

‘I think I can trust you to come back with my horse,’ he said after studying me for a while. ‘But I would say that your Sheriff at Osceola would have already done that.’

‘Maybe you are right, but it would ease my conscience somewhat, if I made sure.’

‘Then I agree,’ he said. ‘Now let’s have a whiskey to celebrate.’

I didn’t feel that I had anything to celebrate, but five whiskeys later we both staggered to a hotel where he treated me to a room for the night.

About ten miles before we got to parsons, he drove the wagon off the main trail and followed a lighter track for about three miles until we came to his farm. The journey had taken around five hours and we were both ready for a stretch and a rest.

The main house was bigger than I had expected and had been built with logs and stone and looked very sturdy. It was a two story structure with a veranda stretching the length of the front of the house. On it were a couple of benches and some wooden chairs along with a long wooden table. There was also a wooden rocking chair with an elderly grey haired woman sitting in it rocking back and forth. As we jumped down from the wagon, a man came out of the door onto the veranda he looked slightly younger than Emmet but with the same features and I guessed they were related. Following him onto the balcony was a young, good looking woman with thick brown hair pinned up into a top knot on her head. She was followed by a girl around nine or ten years old. She also, had thick, brown hair, but unlike the woman’s, it cascaded down over her small shoulders and down her back.

I followed Emmet onto the balcony and he introduced me as his new hand.

‘Folks,’ he said. ‘This is Daniel, he is going to work for us for the next few months. Daniel, this is my brother Thomas, my daughter in law, Katherine and my granddaughter, Amelia.’

I removed my hat and nodded to the assembled group.

‘Daniel,’ Emmet continued, indicating the woman in the rocking chair. ‘This is my wife Rose.’

‘How do maam,’ I said, touching my forehead with my finger.

She smiled and assessed me, before speaking.

‘Welcome Daniel,’ she said softly. ‘Excuse me if I don’t get up, my limbs are not as strong as they were. I hope you will be satisfied with the working conditions here.’

‘I’m sure I will maam,’ I replied.

None of the others had spoken. Katherine stood with her arm around her daughter’s shoulders looking at me with what seemed like a sad smile on her attractive face. Her daughter simply stared wide eyed as children often do. Emmet’s brother eyed me with what looked like suspicion, but nodded affably when I was introduced.

‘We have a small cabin attached to the side of the house where you can sleep Daniel,’ Emmet continued. ‘There’s not a lot of room inside, but you will eat with the family, so it will be fine for sleeping.’

‘Thank you sir, now about that horse.’

‘Don’t worry son, you need to eat first. It’s a fair journey to Fort Scott and an hour aint gonna make much difference.’

Katherine went inside with her daughter while Emmet and Thomas showed me around the farm and told me what would be expected of me. It was a big farm, far bigger than the one I had been raised on and I could see why they would need extra hands. Emmet did most of the talking while Thomas put in an agreement every now and then when Emmet wanted something confirming. Later, we washed up and went into the house where Katherine and her daughter had set out a fine meal on the table. During the meal, everyone was polite but I could see they were itching to know more about me.

‘Have you done much farming Mr Anderson?’ Katherine was the first to question me.

‘Yes maam, I grew up on a farm in Missouri.’

‘Why did you leave it?’ Asked Thomas suspiciously.

I was unsure about how to answer his question. If I had said I left originally to fight in the war for the Confederacy, I doubt I would be welcome to stay, seeing as how Emmet’s son had been killed fighting for the Union.

‘I recently had Indian trouble,’ I replied mildly.

At that, all eyes looked up from their meals.

‘What kind of Indian trouble?’ Thomas persisted.

Emmet already knew the circumstances and I had no doubt he would tell the rest of his family eventually.

‘They kidnapped my family sir,’ I answered.

Katherine gasped.

‘Oh you poor man,’ she whispered. ‘How many children do you have?’

‘Two maam both girls, I kind of adopted them.’

‘Oh, so your wife had been widowed?’

‘No maam, her husband abandoned her and her children and stole valuables from me.’

‘Then she is not your wife?’

‘Not yet maam, as far as I know, her husband is still alive. But I am responsible for them and will do everything in my power to get them back.’

‘Then why aren’t you out looking for them?’ Thomas put in.

‘I had been looking for them sir, but my horse gave out and I have no money or means to acquire another. Your brother came to my rescue with an offer of a job and I am grateful for it. I would prefer to be out there looking for them right now but that is not possible given my circumstances.’

‘I told him if he worked for us for six months, I would give him a horse and he would have saved enough by then, to continue his search,’ interjected Emmet.

Thomas seemed to soften.

‘Well I hate to say this boy,’ he said quietly. ‘But by now they will be lost amongst all the other plains Indians. They could be anywhere and I doubt even the army could find them.’ Do you know which tribe took them?’

‘I’m guessing Comanche or Kiowa, we have had sightings of bands of both tribes.’

‘Well they must have come up from Texas, so I would guess that is where your family could be. But they could also be in Oklahoma, Colorado or New Mexico. Sooner or later they could trade them off to other Indian tribes or marry them into their own. I think your chances of finding them are very slim son. One thing is for sure, they will be safe, or as safe as can be expected in the circumstances. The Comanche value white females, either for trade, ransom or marriage.’

His words didn’t give me much hope or confidence. But I guess he was just being truthful and telling it like it was. As a matter of fact, it was something I already knew but couldn’t bring myself to face.

‘Daniel is going to borrow a horse and ride to Fort Scott to inform the army,’ Emmet put in. ‘I promised him that before he would agree to work for us.’

Thomas looked at me then at Emmet.

‘What’s to stop him from just riding on down to Texas and resume his search?’ He growled.

‘I trust him and I think he is an honourable man. I don’t know many men that would be willing to go up against a whole tribe of Indians alone, to rescue someone that aint even related.’

‘All the more reason for him to steal a horse.’

At this point Katherine spoke up.

‘Are you an honourable man Mr Anderson?’ She asked smiling.

‘I try to be maam.’

‘Would you steal one of our horses to carry on your quest?’

‘Emmet has been very kind to me maam. He has given me a chance to get them back eventually, no matter how slight the chances may be. So to answer your question, no I would not steal one of your horses.’

She looked me in the eye and I could see for the first time, how blue her eyes were, like a cloudless sky on a spring day. She smiled sweetly before speaking.

‘I do not believe you would,’ she said. ‘I think you are a man who could be trusted no matter what.’

‘Of course he can,’ Rose interjected. ‘He reminds me so much of Frank and we all know what a fine boy he was.’

Katherine suddenly got to her feet and asked to be excused, then hurried out of the room.

‘Now look what you’ve done Rose,’ said Emmet.

‘That girl is too sensitive if you ask me,’ she replied. ‘Frank has been dead for eleven years, it’s time she let him go. I am his mother so who was closer to him than me, but I have learned to let go and so should she.’

‘Damn it Rose, she was his wife and he didn’t even know she was pregnant when he left and neither did she. She is entitled to grieve all she wants.’

Rose sighed resignedly, but didn’t pursue the matter.

‘Sorry about that son,’ said Emmet. ‘Come on let’s get that horse saddled up.’

FOURTEEN

After three months of back breaking toil and wonderful meals, I was finally accepted by all of Emmet’s family. Even Thomas seemed to have come to the conclusion that his suspicions of me were unfounded and we began to get on fine. I felt myself getting closer to Katherine and the fact that I found myself becoming attracted to her, left me with mixed feelings. For the first few weeks I would catch her stealing glances at me from the doorway as I walked by. At the dinner table I would feel her eyes on me as I ate and if I looked up, her eyes would linger for a while, before returning to her own plate. Later she would find opportunities to catch me alone and ask searching questions about my past life and about my kidnapped family. At those times, I would be evasive. How could I tell her I had been one of the Missouri raiders who had helped in the sacking of Lawrence and killed many men and possibly women and boys? That I had fought on the same side that had killed her husband? I told her I had lived all of my life on our farm, taking it over when my parents had died of natural causes. I did not tell her about Lise, being either unable or unwilling to talk about her, preferring to let her remain a private reminder of my betrayal of her. It became a little more complicated when she quizzed me about Rachael and how and where we had met. I told her that her husband was a friend of our family and he had asked me to take care of his family while he rebuilt his farm after a fire had burned it down. He left them with me and we never saw him again.

‘After that,’ I told her. ‘I felt responsible for them and could not possibly turn them away.’

‘Did you love her?’ She asked searchingly.

‘We became very close and I came to be very fond of them all. But I don’t really know what love is.’

A vision of Chameli passed through my mind and pangs of longing touched my heart.

‘Oh you will know love when you experience it,’ she smiled.

I returned her smile.

‘Well, I guess I will have to take your word for that.’

‘Daniel,’ she said quietly. ‘I really hope you find your family one day. But if you don’t, I hope that sometime in your life, you are blessed with true love.’

For the next three months Katherine and I spent a lot of time together, either just the two of us, or with her daughter Amelia. Amelia was one of the sweetest children I had ever known apart from Lise. It took a long time for her to accept me as a friend because she was very shy and never spoke a word when I was around. But gradually, she came out of her shell and I found her to be a very inquisitive child, often asking so many unanswerable questions as to drive me to distraction. Her questions were intelligent and thoughtful and well thought out for one so young. What frustrated me, was the fact that I didn’t have an answer to most of them.

That first day I had ridden the horse that Emmet had loaned me, to Fort Scott and spoke with the officer in charge about what had happened to my family. He had been very sympathetic, but repeated practically, word for word what Thomas had said, even though he had promised to look out for them. He said, the only chance I had of getting them back would be if they were put up for ransom or trade.

The time had passed quickly and one day, Emmet pulled me aside and told me he was going to be true to his word and give me a horse. He said that I had worked harder than he would have expected anybody to work and that I deserved to have the chance to go and look for my family. The six months were up and I was free to go with his blessing.

‘Are you sure you want to go son?’ he asked. ‘You have become pretty popular around here, especially with Katherine and Amelia. We have all noticed how close you three have become and we as a family are happy about it. I know we have no right to say this, but Rose and I have finally stopped mourning our son since you have been here. We will never forget him and don’t see you as a replacement, but having you around the place and seeing how Katherine has started laughing again, has made us all happier.’

‘I appreciate that sir and it is true, I have become very fond of both Katherine and Amelia. But I would never be able to sleep soundly if I didn’t at least try to keep my promise to myself to rescue my family, even though they are not my real family. I will say this though, the time I have spent here has probably been the best six months I have known. It’s been hard but fair and you have all made me welcome, far more welcome than I had any right to expect and I am grateful for it. I would hope that in the future, whether or not I am successful in my search, that I would be made welcome should I return.’

‘You will always be made welcome here Daniel you can be sure of that. But maybe your request should be directed at Katherine.’

‘I was kinda hoping I could ride away without letting her know,’ I stammered. ‘I thought it would be easier for both of us.’

‘I never put you down as a coward Daniel.’

‘Believe me Emmet, I would rather face a man twice my size with bare fists than try to explain my actions to a woman.’

‘Well don’t you think you owe her an explanation? You can’t just up and leave without at least, saying goodbye.’

‘I just don’t want to hurt her feelings, she has already told me she loves having me around the place and would be lonely if I wasn’t here. Surely it would be better if I just up and left.’

‘Like your friend did to his family? Didn’t he just up and leave without giving them an explanation for his actions? How do you think his wife must have felt wondering what she could have done that was so bad that he couldn’t wait to leave her and couldn’t even face her to tell her the reason why, just like you propose to do to Katherine?’

‘I just thought it would be easier on both of us. She already knew I would be leaving as soon as I had obligated my promise to you.’

‘You don’t know much about women do you son?’

‘No sir I don’t, for as long as I live, I don’t think I will ever figure them out. But I will take your advice and speak to her before I go.’

I saddled the horse Emmet had given me, a big powerful bay, it was the best of the five horses he owned. Then I slung the gunny sack of supplies his wife, Rose had made up for me, over the saddle. I had not worn my gun all the time I had been on the farm, now it was back on my hip and felt good. The Enfield was in a boot attached to the saddle and I was ready to go.

Emmet was the only one who knew which day I had chosen to leave, or even that I had chosen to leave at all. Now as I stood in the big barn at the back of the house with the horse pawing the ground eager to be off on an unknown adventure, I felt alone and fearful that this was going to be the last time I would see the farm ever again. What was worse, I feared that I would never see Katherine again and in that moment, I realised that I really did love her and was going to miss having her close by and the long intimate conversations we had enjoyed together. Just two days ago we had enjoyed our first kiss and it was a moment unlike any other I had known. But I knew that if I did not at least, try to find Rachael and her children, I would not be able to live with myself.

I walked the horse round to the front of the house and hitched him to a post. Then I removed my hat and rapped my knuckles on the front door. Emmet had assured me that Katherine would be alone in the house. He had taken Rose and Amelia to town in the wagon on the pretext that he was giving them a treat with a trip to the general store to buy new Sunday clothes. Thomas was in the fields working.

Katherine came to the door and smiled brightly when she saw me. Then she noticed the gun on my hip and the saddled horse waiting below. She placed her hand to her mouth and gasped. I could see the disappointment slowly, spread across her face as the tears welled up into her eyes.

‘Why?’ she gasped.

‘I’m so sorry Katherine, but you knew when I came here that I had to carry on the search. You would expect that of me if it had been you and Amelia who had been taken.’

‘I thought we had something, I just took it for granted that you loved me enough to stay, is that selfish of me?’

‘I love you more than I ever thought I could Katherine, you mean everything to me and so does Amelia, I love that child as though she were my own. I know I have no right to ask this, but if you give me twelve more months to search for them, I will return here if you want me to, whether I find them or not.’

She looked at me for a long time with her clear blue eyes, although at that moment they were misted over and moist from her tears.

‘If you find them, surely you will want to carry on as before, being a family.’

‘Katherine, neither Rachael nor me were in love with each other. I gave her a home out of loyalty, even though I didn’t really owe her any. I suppose, it was convenient for both of us. I was very fond of her and the children, but I did not love her, not like I love you.’

As I said that, an image of Chameli flashed across my mind again, and I was, for a moment, inwardly angry that I could not even now, completely shake the memory of her from my mind.

Katherine was speaking again, but the image of the woman who was constantly haunting me, had shook me and my mind was, for a moment, in turmoil.

‘Daniel?’ she said anxiously.

‘I’m sorry Katherine, an image of Rachael and the girls just flashed across my mind and it shook me.’

‘I was about to say,’ she continued. ‘I cannot promise anything, but if it is really going to be worth waiting, then I will try. I do understand that you must continue your search for them, I guess you owe them that at least and yes, if it were Amelia and me in that situation, I would expect my loved ones to at least, try to find me.’

She suddenly came to me and threw her arms around my neck, her warm soft lips finding mine and her kiss was both urgent and passionate. She was breathing heavily and I could feel her breasts heaving against my chest as she held herself tight to me. I wrapped my arms around her slender waist and pulled her to me melding myself to her, feeling the heat from her body flowing into mine and overwhelming me. I closed my eyes and lost myself in her, my longing for her making my mind a hot volcano of molten passion, until suddenly, through the fire, Chameli’s face appeared.

I pulled away and she must have mistaken the look on my face for one of revulsion instead of the true reason. Chameli had got into my mind again and unnerved me. I looked at Katherine and my face must have been a picture of turmoil and uncertainty, because she sounded astounded when she spoke.

‘Was it so bad that you couldn’t hold on to me for longer than a few seconds Daniel?’ She said sadly.

I reached for her, but she stepped back with her arms outstretched and her hand, palms out warding me off.

‘Please Katherine,’ I pleaded. ‘I would hold you in my arms forever if I could, you mean everything to me.’

‘That isn’t how it looked to me when you pushed me away.’

‘You have to believe me, something is playing with my mind. I keep seeing things from my past at times when I least expect it and it unnerves me. It hasn’t anything to do with you or how I feel about you. Holding you in my arms was everything I could have wanted. You look, feel and mean more to me than any woman I have ever known. I love you Katherine and want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want you to be my wife.’

She was suddenly in my arms again.

‘Oh Daniel,’ she cried. ‘Does that mean that you are not going to leave?’

‘Well,’ I spluttered. ‘I just meant.’

‘Oh you have made me so happy, you don’t know what this means to me and Amelia. She will be ecstatic that you are staying.’

I had effectively trapped myself and I realised that Emmet was right, I knew nothing about women. The way they can set traps for you and tie you up knots was an art that a mere man like me would never understand.

‘I know you feel bad about abandoning your search Daniel, but like Thomas said, the chances of finding them are slim to impossible. If I thought you stood any chance of finding them, I would even join you in your quest and search as fervently as you would until we found them.’

‘Well I,’ I began. But she outflanked me again.

‘Come into the house,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘Emmet has a bottle of whiskey hidden away, you deserve a shot for being so brave and caring to Amelia and me.’

‘Well I.....,’ I tried again. But she took my hand and pulled me inside, before giving me another long, lingering kiss.

After having three shots of whiskey forced on me, she dragged me into her bedroom and I finally, gave up.

FIFTEEN

After three months, Katherine and I were married. She was already six weeks pregnant when we wed, much to the disapproval of Rose. But I was thrilled that I was finally going to father my own child instead of being the father to somebody else’s. The thoughts of Rachael were fading, although I did have moments of remorse that I had let her down and at those times, I wondered, no, hoped that she and her children were safe and as well as could be expected. I had heard of women who had been kidnapped and integrated into the Indian way of life, who had been happy with their lot and even preferred to stay with the tribe. I hoped for their sakes that they were happy and not despairing that they would never be found.

I found myself fussing over Katherine, unwilling to allow her to overburden herself in her state, in which case she would scold me and tell me that in the early stages of pregnancy she was quite capable of getting on with her chores. I had moved into her room and Amelia, who had previously shared with Katherine, was given her own room that Emmet, Thomas and me had built onto the house. The child was thrilled that she would have her own private room and not have to share. I was finally happy. My hunger for revenge on Singer had almost abated and with it my bitterness. From what Chameli had told me, he was a broken man anyway. It felt good to settle down with my beautiful wife and look forward to being a father. Even Chameli didn’t appear in my mind with the same frequency as before. So even though I got an ache in my heart on the odd occasion that I thought of her, it was becoming easier to push her away.

After eight months Katherine went into labour. She died in childbirth as did our son.

SIXTEEN

Once again tragedy had struck. Whenever it seemed that I would finally find happiness, the people who were closest to my heart were taken away from me, either by death as in my sister’s and my wife’s case. Or by some other means, as in Rachael and her girls’ and Chameli’s case. Whenever I was close to somebody, something bad happened to them. I decided that it had to be me, I was bad luck to anybody I loved. I felt that I must get away before anything happened to Amelia. I had come to love her so much and as far as I was concerned, she was my own daughter and I did not want anything to happen to her, which I was sure it would if I stayed.

When Katherine died and the baby was born lifeless, I was inconsolable. I openly wailed at that moment and cried unashamedly for a week or more, shedding huge tears until I had no more tears left to shed. I selfishly wallowed in my own self-pity, not giving a thought to Amelia who had lost her mother and was now an orphan. When I did finally, pull myself together and tried to comfort her, she shunned me and blamed me for the death of her mother. I could not argue with that, I blamed myself and vowed that I would never allow myself to get close to anybody ever again.

After the funeral, Emmet, Thomas and Rose tried to talk me into not leaving. But they knew nothing of my past or the tragedies that had befallen people I had known, apart from Rachael and her children. If they had known I was a killer as well, I do not think they would have been so keen for me to stay. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I could at least, leave with them having a good opinion of me.

Five weeks later, I said goodbye to Emmet, Thomas and Rose and thanked them for all they had done for me. Amelia had stayed in her room where she had been spending most of her time since her mother died.

I hugged Rose and shook hands with Emmet and Thomas, then descended the steps to my horse. It was then that Amelia rushed out through the door and called my name. I turned to face her and she ran to me and flung her arms around my waist with her face on my chest. I could feel the tears soaking through my shirt onto my chest as she sobbed.

‘Don’t leave me Danny,’ she sobbed, using the pet name that her and her mother always used for me. ‘You are my daddy, you are all I have left. Please don’t leave me without a father as well as a mother.’

I felt as though my heart had snapped in my chest. How could I stay and subject her to the same fate, or worse, that had befallen her mother. I had come to love her as much as I had loved Katherine and would love nothing more than to raise her as my own. But I was convinced that if I stayed, something bad would happen and I already had enough on my conscience.

‘I cannot stay Amelia, I am bad luck to anybody I love and I love you too much to let anything happen to you.’

‘I don’t care,’ she wailed. ‘I won’t let you leave me like my mom did. If you loved me like you say you do, you would stay and care for me.’

I pushed her away and held her at arm’s length, looking up and silently pleading with Emmet. He hurried down the steps and gently took her by the shoulders pulling her away. Her face was wet with tears and her eyes were puffy from crying. I quickly turned my head away to hide my own tears and mounted my horse.

‘No!’ she wailed. ‘Please don’t leave me Danny, don’t go, please Danny, don’t go.’

I rode away with her pleas ringing in my ears. I looked straight ahead. If I had turned my head and seen her struggling in Emmet’s grasp with her small tear stained face added to the sound of her pleading voice imploring me to stay; I surely would have returned and condemned her, in my own mind at least, to death or something worse.

SEVENTEEN

I became bitter at all the setbacks I had experienced. I wondered constantly, why it was never me who suffered the pain, at least the physical pain. It was always the people I had become close to. It was as though I was being punished for loving them and they were being punished for loving me. But why? I knew I was a bad man, I had done many bad things and killed some people, most, in my eyes, deserved what they got. But some might have been innocently, in the wrong place at the wrong time. But people like my mother, my father, Rachael and her girls, Katherine and Amelia and my poor, dear little sister, Lise. None of them would harm a fly, each one of them was good and kind in their own way. Even Chameli had gone through the most awful torment and had been left close to death. I realised It was before I even knew she existed, But it still happened when I was sure to find her. I figured, the only difference between Chameli and the others was, she was as bad as me, probably worse. But why should they be punished for my crimes? I could not, no matter how long I thought about it, find an answer that would make any sense, so I vowed once more, that I would never get close to anybody ever again.

When I joined up with Quantrill, I had learned at an early age how to play poker and I became good at it. I took a lot of money and property from some of the other men who rode with us. Now I decided to use the wages I had earned from working for Emmet to help me have a better living while I resumed my search for Rachael. I did not hold out much hope of finding them, but at least, while I was travelling I could keep making enquiries about them. I figured it was the least I could do.

I stopped at a few towns in Oklahoma and won a few small stakes games which paid for hotel, food and drink while keeping my original pot intact. Travelling south through the Great Plains, I came across plenty of Indian sign, and places where villages had been. But never saw any Indians. I knew many of the tribes like Comanche and Cheyenne, followed the buffalo herds as they roamed the plains, but I saw no buffalo either.

Eventually I crossed the Red River into Texas and then on to Dallas where I joined in a couple of card games, before moving on to Fort Worth where I heard there were rich pickings from the cattle men who came up the Chisholm trail on the way to the stock yards at Wichita Kansas.

Fort Worth did not disappoint. It had become even bigger than the last time I was there. It was a hot bed of gambling and vice, with many saloons, dancehalls and brothels. I bought myself new clothes, boots and a hat. Found myself a room in one of the better hotels and was able to find a gunsmith who converted my Remington to shoot rim fire cartridges. During the day, Fort Worth was a normal town with businesses and stores carrying on as normal. But in the evenings, it came alive, with cattle drovers, buffalo hunters, farmers and gamblers packing the saloons and brothels. I joined in poker games in a couple of saloons just to get a feel of the place. I won a few and lost a few, but came away winning a small amount.

The next night I stood at the bar of one of the better establishments with a beer, surveying the tables. Almost every table in the place had a card game going. I watched the games from a distance. Some of the players dropped out of some of the games, but I wasn’t interested, they were small stakes games. After surveying the place for around an hour, I had picked out a game where the pots were getting bigger with each hand. Three of the players were what looked like cattlemen, and two were almost certainly, professional gamblers. The sixth man looked like a farmer and he was losing heavily. I moved closer to watch the game and weigh up the players. After another four hands of five card stud, the farmer was broke and drunk and he staggered away from the table. I politely asked if I could join the game and after studying me for a short time, one of the gamblers announced that it was a closed game. The oldest of the cowhands, said he had no objection but one of the other cowboys said he had already lost heavy and didn’t need another player breaking up the fall of the cards. I shrugged and as the table was by a wall, I decided to stand, leaning against the wall watching the game from a few feet away. This seemed to annoy the gambler who had told me it was a closed game and he glared at me for a few moments. I raised my beer glass and smiled. I was damned if some jumped up card sharp was going to intimidate me. From my vantage point, I could see the whole game unfold. Of the three cowboys, two of them were good players and hardly gave anything away. The other one, the older man, was loud and drinking more than he should be if he wanted to stay sharp. I did not know if it was luck or skill, but despite his behaviour, he won more pots than he lost. In fact he was winning regularly. The other players were folding often, even when they had potentially good hands. He appeared to be acquainted with the other two cow hands, but seemed to be only on nodding terms with them. They didn’t seem to know him personally. I was becoming increasingly suspicious as the game unfolded. Especially as he was winning with hands that most gamblers would fold. I could see he was becoming more excited with every hand he won, declaring that he was on a winning streak and nothing could stop him. Finally, one of the cowboys spoke up.

‘Maybe we should up the ante,’ he said mildly. ‘I’m losing heavy and would like a chance to get it back.’

‘I don’t mind,’ replied one of the gamblers. ‘As long as everybody else agrees.’

The other gambler nodded.

‘Fine by me,’ he said.

‘Ok, I guess,’ said the other cowhand.

The loud drunken cattleman, because of his winning streak, assented loudly.

‘Be ready to lose big boys,’ he laughed.

The cowboy who had suggested raising the stakes, spoke again.

‘How about a ten dollar ante and a minimum half bet of ten dollars.’

Nobody except the loud cowboy and me were surprised at the stakes.

‘Are you sure you want to lose that much son?’ he said to the younger man.

‘Well’, he said ‘I’ve already lost a lot, so it’s all or nothing.’

They were the kind of stakes that would end up with a big pot if everybody stayed in the game and there were regular raises. I was curious so I decided to hold my position and watch the game to its conclusion.

After they all anted up, the hole card was dealt to each man by one of the gamblers. I noticed straight away, that the old man’s card was dealt from the bottom of the deck. The dealer then, dealt the up cards, once more giving the old cowhand one from the bottom of the deck. He now had a hole card and an Ace. The cowboy to his left had a hole card and a four of hearts. The other cowboy was given the ten of diamonds on top of his hole card. The first gambler, was given the queen of spades, whilst he gambler who had dealt, left himself with a hole card and a jack of diamonds.

The cowboy with the four up card was first to bet. He threw ten dollars into the pot as an opening bet. With only a four as his up card, it seemed a ludicrous bet.

The old cowboy had suddenly gone serious and was studying his cards. The second cowboy raised the bet to twenty dollars. The gambler to his left threw in twenty dollars and added twenty to it, effectively raising it to forty dollars. The dealer raised it to eighty dollars which meant the old man needed to call or raise it to one hundred and sixty dollars, which he did and I guessed he had an ace in the hole to match his other ace. Another round of up cards were dealt, once again the old man’s card was dealt from the bottom of the deck. He stared in disbelief at another ace to match his first one and the ace that I figured was his hole card. The first cowboy was dealt the king of spades. The second cowboy was dealt the ten of clubs to match his other ten. The first gambler was dealt the jack of spades and the dealer gave himself the nine of diamonds. The old man, having the highest up card was first to open the second round of betting. He was openly excited with his hand, and he raised the bet yet again which meant the cowboy to his left would need to call three hundred and twenty dollars or raise to six hundred and forty, which was more money than had changed hands all night. With only a king high and possibly a king as a hole card which wouldn’t match two aces let alone the three aces which I guessed the old man had, I expected him to fold. I watched him nervously glance at the gambler who had dealt and saw the gambler nod. The cowboy raised the stakes and it was then that I realised all four of them were hustling the old man. I hadn’t seen the dealer switch decks, but I guessed that, that was what had happened. They were giving the old man a decent hand, no, a very good hand so that he would bet heavily. At that moment, I would have bet anything that one of the gamblers would come up with an almost impossible hand to beat whatever the old man was dealt. They must have done some checking on him before getting him into the game. I guessed that he was carrying a lot of money.

It was the second cowboy’s turn to bet and with a possible three tens, he raised the ante yet again, now it was twelve hundred and eighty dollars to call, a fortune to any cow hand and I did not believe for a minute that he had that amount of money unless he was a gambler dressed as a cowhand, or, which was more likely, being paid by the two gamblers. The first gambler had a potential straight flush, but I knew he would raise again no matter what he had on the table. The stakes went up to two thousand, five hundred and sixty dollars. They were all staying in the game so that each could raise the stakes to a huge final pot. The last gambler, as I expected, raised to five thousand, one hundred and twenty dollars and there were another two rounds of betting yet to come.

The first gambler dealt another round of up cards. The old man received a King of diamonds, the first cowboy to his left was dealt the King of clubs, the second cowboy, the five of hearts to match his possible, three tens if his hole Card was a ten. The first gambler was dealt an eight of spades, which meant he had the potential for a straight flush if his hole card was either the nine of spades or the ten both of which were still live. The dealer dealt himself the eight of diamonds. So with both gamblers having the potential of a straight flush, I guessed either one of them would take the old man.

More of the saloon crowd were beginning to congregate around the table including the saloon owner who had been pointed out to me earlier. I moved close to him and spoke quietly, close to his ear.

‘It might be in your interest sir,’ I said quietly. ‘To watch where the old man’s cards are dealt from in regards to the card deck. I don’t like to see anybody separated from their money by cheats, even an old fool like him.’

There was a very big crowd round the table now, it was a big game with higher stakes than had been seen in the place before. The crowd parted for the saloon owner as he forced his way closer to the table. I accompanied him and spoke quietly in his ear again.

‘You might want to watch the signals between the two cowboys and the dealer also.’

The old man started the betting again. He was now a little unsure, probably hoping for a final ace, which would have given him four of a kind, an excellent hand in five card stud. He called and the bet remained at five thousand, one hundred and twenty. I nudged the saloon owner standing next to me as the first cowboy glanced at the dealer. The shake of his head was barely perceptible, but it was there and the cowboy folded. The second cowboy got a nod and there came a huge gasp from the crowd, as he raised to ten thousand, two hundred and forty dollars. His hole card was possibly the last live ten. The first gambler, as I expected, raised to twenty thousand, four hundred and eighty dollars. Which meant if his hole card was the nine or the ten of spades, he was gambling on his last card being another spade which would give him a flush, beating the old man’s three aces.

The dealer made a show of studying his cards for many minutes and I could see he was play acting. Then, finally, he folded with a big sigh. I guessed he either had a black hole card or was just folding for effect.

He dealt the final round of cards face up. The old man received a second king and everybody in the room gasped. The potential for a full house hadn’t gone unnoticed. The second cowboy was dealt the five of spades, which potentially gave him a full house also. I would now, bet everything I had that the first gambler would be dealt, either a ten of spades or a nine of spades. The nine came out and I knew then that his hole card had to be the ten of spades, giving him a straight flush over the other two full houses. The game had been fixed from start to finish.

The old man started the betting and he could barely contain his excitement. A full house with aces and kings would normally be a certain winner in five card stud, so he immediately raised the stakes. The cowboy had to fold. It was obvious to all that his possible full house would not beat the old man’s.

The first gambler would now have to put in forty thousand, nine hundred and sixty dollars to see the old man. He didn’t hesitate and the old man gleefully, turned up his hole card. A full house, aces and kings.

‘I guess that should be good enough to take the pot son,’ he cackled at the other gambler.

‘Not quite old man,’ he returned.

The gambler, turned over his hole card, it was the ten of spades, giving him a straight flush.

The old man stared in disbelief as the gambler sat grinning at him.

‘Do you need to go to your hotel room to get the rest of my winnings old man?’ The gambler asked. ‘Or have you got it on you like the rest of these boys?’

The old man was stunned into silence, but he opened the buttons of his shirt to expose a money belt. He took out the contents and tossed the money onto the table.

‘There’s just over thirty four thousand dollars there,’ he said with a catch in his voice. ‘That is all the money I have in the world.’

‘Then you are over six thousand dollars short old man,’ the gambler growled. ‘I’ll take your wagon and horses as part payment and an I.O.U for the rest, I’m sure you have assets on your ranch that will make up what you owe me.’

The old man slumped in his chair as the gambler began to gather up the money while everybody round the table watched. Neither the other gambler nor the cowboys had made a move to hand over any more money than the opening stakes. I stood directly behind the dealer while the saloon owner stood behind the winning gambler.

‘Strange you are not asking the others to pay up,’ I said loudly. ‘You must be owed more than a few thousand dollars from these other boys, aren’t you gonna collect it from them as well?’

He stopped gathering the money.

‘I know these boys,’ he said angrily. ‘They are good for it.’

‘I think you know them a bit too well mister,’ put in the saloon owner.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he retorted.

The gambler in front of me began to rise and as he did so, I placed a hand on his shoulder. I already had my gun out and I held it to his face with muzzle pressing into the side of his nose. He froze.

‘Where’s the other deck?’ I asked mildly.

‘What?’

‘You switched decks, the cards you used were stacked to come out in the order you wanted them to. You made sure you were the dealer and that the old man would receive the first card to be dealt. It didn’t really matter which of the others sat where, because there would be two full houses and two straight flushes somewhere amongst you. All four of you were in on it’

I could hear the crowd murmuring amongst themselves, as they heard my revelations.

I pushed him back down onto his chair.

‘Turn your hole card over,’ I commanded.

He turned it over, it was the ten of diamonds.

‘What does that prove?’ he growled.

‘You folded before the final round of cards,’ I said. ‘I would say that was just for effect, to make it look less obvious. The last card you dealt was to your buddy on your right, which means if you had stayed in, the next card from the top of the deck would be yours. How much would you like to bet me that the next card from the deck is the queen of diamonds?’

He remained silent. I turned over the card and sure enough, it was the queen of diamonds.

‘What does that prove?’ he said.

‘It goes a long way to telling me the game was fixed. It would have given you the second straight flush. I’m betting the original deck of cards are on you somewhere and I have a witness that saw you deal the old man’s cards from the bottom of the deck.’

‘That’s a goddamn lie,’ he yelled. But I could see he was getting a bit hot under the collar. ‘What witness? I never cheat at cards.’

‘I saw you deal from the bottom of the deck,’ the saloon owner said evenly. ‘I can’t see any reason to purposely give a man a good hand, than to give him the motive to bet high stakes. Why would you do that if you didn’t plan on cheating him?’

‘Why would I deal from the bottom of the deck if it was stacked to deal the cards in order?’

‘That was just in case something went wrong with the order of seating,’ I interjected. ‘You made sure the old man’s cards were all placed in the right order at the bottom of the deck. As long as you and your sidekick were last to get your cards, either one of you would be dealt a winning hand.’

The crowd were talking amongst themselves now and there were many angry sounds coming from them. I looked at the two cowhands to see they were nervously looking around and shifting in their chairs. Both had their hands on the table in full view, but the first gambler had his hands under the table and I knew instinctively that he was harbouring a weapon.

‘Remove your coat mister,’ the saloon owner directed his order to the gambler I was holding at gunpoint.

He didn’t move, but he was beginning to sweat, I could see beads of it on his forehead and upper lip.

‘Do it,’ I growled in his ear and just to press home the point, I pushed the muzzle of my pistol against his nose again.

He slowly climbed to his feet and I stepped back a pace. I had moved my gun so that it was now trained on the seated gambler. The dealer began to remove his coat and as he did so, the other gambler leapt to his feet and turned towards me with a gun in his fist. I did not hesitate, my bullet hit him in the chest just as he was levelling his pistol. He went down against his chair sending it skidding into the crowd. I didn’t bother looking how he landed, I knew he was out of it. Instead, I trained my pistol on the two cowboys, but they were frozen to their seats. The dealer had also froze with his coat half way off. The bar had gone quiet with only the saloon owner still animated.

‘Ok mister,’ he said to the dealer. ‘You were in the process of shucking your coat.’

He removed his coat completely and placed it on his chair. The saloon owner took hold of his wrists and turned them so his hands were palms up. People nearest the action murmured and some of them gasped as they saw, held in place with an expanding band was a deck of cards almost identical to the stacked deck that had been used to cheat the old man. The saloon owner took the deck and looked them over.

‘These are the saloon cards,’ he declared. ‘The other deck was stacked and do not come from here.’

‘I guess the pot belongs to the old man then,’ I said evenly.

There were assenting calls from the crowd and also calls to lynch the remaining gambler and the cowhands who had helped them.

The saloon owner raised his voice, he was a big man with a big voice.

‘There’ll be no lynching taking place from my saloon,’ he yelled. ‘Now somebody fetch the sheriff, let’s get these card sharps outa here and get y’all back to some serious drinking and gambling.’

He ordered the three remaining men to drop their weapons and with dozens of men clamouring for blood, they didn’t intend to give them any provocation. They all laid their guns onto the table and moved their hands well away from them.

When I heard the mention of the sheriff, I became a little nervous. I had just shot and killed a man and the possibility of another prison term could not be ruled out.

‘What’s your name son?’ said the saloon owner after turning to face me.

I used the alias that I had used with Jacob and Katherine’s family.

‘Daniel sir,’ I replied. ‘Daniel Anderson.’

‘My name’s Luke McKindrick. You are pretty handy with that gun Dan.’

‘Just lucky I think,’ I replied mildly. ‘I hope you will back me up when the sheriff comes. It was self-defence.’

‘I will be honest with you Dan. I do not think he stood a chance against you, I have never seen anybody as cool as you were, and you shot him down without even thinking or hesitating, as though it just came naturally to you. But don’t worry son, there aint a man in the place that would testify against you. He was about to turn his gun on you and if you hadn’t shot first, he would have, at least, tried, to kill you.’

I holstered my gun and thanked him. Then turned to go.

‘You were quick to spot that stacked deck Dan.’ He said as I was turning to go.

I looked back.

‘Anybody who happened to watch that game closely, would have spotted it,’ I replied.

‘I could use somebody like you,’ he said. ‘How would you like to work for me?’

‘What you offering?’

‘Just keep your eye on the games and the customers. Make sure there is no more cheating and no trouble. Stop it before it goes too far.’

‘What do I get out of it?’ I asked mildly.

Just at that moment, the sheriff and two deputies arrived. Most of the crowd had dispersed and gone back to playing cards. The sheriff looked down at the dead man and the men sitting around the table. Then he looked at McKindrick and me.

‘I heard what happened,’ he said. ‘

‘Then you’ll know that these fellows were cheating the old man there,’

He indicated the old man who hadn’t moved.

‘That one,’ McKindrick indicated the dead gambler on the floor. ‘Drew his gun on this young feller here and paid with his life. Everybody saw it and I doubt that anybody wouldn’t swear it was self-defence.’

The sheriff looked at me.

‘That’s good enough for me,’ he answered.

He turned to the deputies.

‘Boys,’ he said. ‘Take these cheating varmints into custody.’

After the Gambler and the two cowhands were taken away at gunpoint, the sheriff turned to me.

‘There’ll be no charges against you mister. But be careful with that gun. If you go shooting it off too often, I might get a bit suspicious of why you are here and what you are up to.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind sheriff,’ I replied.

He grunted, then turned on his heel and followed his deputies out of the doors.

McKindrick turned to me.

‘So what do you say about the job?’ He enquired.

‘I’d like to think on it,’ I answered.

‘Tell you what Dan. There are a lot of people in here who saw the money that passed hands here and not all of them are exactly law abiding citizens. Maybe you should see the old man to his hotel or wherever it is he is staying, then come back and we’ll talk money.’

I looked down at the old man. He was sitting very quietly staring at the money on the table. Not one word had escaped his lips during the ruckus around the table. He seemed to have been shocked into silence.

‘Maybe you should gather up your winning sir,’ I said mildly. ‘Then if you would allow me, I will walk with you to your hotel, or wherever it is you are staying.’

He slowly turned his head and looked up at me.

‘I’m an old fool,’ he said quietly. ‘I was willing to gamble everything including my ranch, on a game of cards. If I had lost that money, the bank would have taken my ranch and all my land. If that had happened, my family and the people who work for me would have been destitute.’

‘Well, looks like you have learned a lesson old man,’ said McKindrick. ‘I guess you owe this young fellow a big thank you.’

The old man stood slowly and held out his hand.

‘Name’s John Burnham,’ he said. ‘Mr McKindrick is right son; if you hadn’t spotted that stacked deck I would have been in big trouble, so I owe you a hell of a lot.’

‘You owe me nothing Mr Burnham. I do not like to see anybody cheated out of their money no matter who it is. If the game had been legitimate I would not have intervened, in which case, it would have been your own fault that you had lost.’

‘I guess you see me as a fool as well son. Well I don’t blame you. At my age you would have thought I would have more sense.’

‘Maybe you would be wise to leave your money with me Mr Burnham,’ McKindrick suggested. ‘This is one of the worst towns in the territory to advertise the amount of cash you are carrying. If you want I can give you a receipt to say you have deposited it with me and you can get it back before you leave town.’

Burnham considered the suggestion for a few moments.

‘I’m grateful to you Mr McKindrick and I would like to take you up on your offer. You are right, it isn’t safe for me now that so many folks know about my money.’

‘Well,’ said McKindrick, ‘looks like you made a profit, the original stake is on the table as well as the first round of bets.’

‘I only want what is mine,’ Burnham said. ‘You can do what you like with the rest.’

‘It’s your money Mr Burnham,’ I said. ‘Those fellows forfeited any claim they had on it when they cheated you.’

‘Then I want you to have it Mr Anderson,’ he said. ‘If it hadn’t been for you, I would be broke anyway.’

‘Sounds like a good solution to me,’ McKindrick said.

I shrugged none committed. I wasn’t about to turn down a few hundred free dollars. I wasn’t crazy.

‘If it makes you feel better, I’ll accept,’ I said mildly. ‘Thank you.’

‘No; thank you,’ he replied.

We gathered up the money on the table and all three of us went to McKindrick’s office to deposit Burnham’s money in his safe.

‘You should have deposited that money in the bank in Wichita instead of carrying it around with you,’ McKindrick said as he locked the safe.

‘I don’t trust banks,’ replied Burnham.

McKindrick and I looked at each other and I smiled as he expressed mock horror.

‘So you were willing to travel hundreds of miles through some of the most lawless lands in the country with all that money on you and risk it on a crooked card game to boot.’

The old man looked at McKindrick.

‘I told you I was an old fool, but I learned my lesson.’

‘Them gamblers must have known you had a lot of money on you to go to all that trouble,’ said McKindrick. ‘Did you put it about how much you were carrying?’

‘No, I can only think that the two cowhands who were in the game, knew about it. I saw them in Wichita when I sold my herd, they were with another outfit but I might have mentioned to their boss that I don’t trust banks. When they saw me again here, they bought me drinks and talked me into the game. It wasn’t too difficult cos I enjoy a game of poker. I just didn’t realise how much of a fool I was, especially not seeing what was happening the way they kept letting me win.’

‘I’ll walk you to your hotel Mr Burnham,’ I said. ‘There will be folks about who will think you still have that money on you and will have no qualms about attacking you in order to rob you.’

‘Thank you son,’ he replied. ‘I appreciate that.’

McKindrick lifted a shotgun down from a cabinet behind the desk.

‘Here take this,’ he said to me. ‘It will do more damage than a single bullet if you are ganged up on.’

I took it and nodded before loading it and placing more cartridges into my pocket from the box he offered me.

‘When you come back,’ he continued. ‘We’ll talk about that job if you are interested.’

‘Sure,’ I replied, before ushering the old man out of the back door.

It was just a short walk to the old man’s hotel. On the way there he told me he had a ranch down near the Rio Grande and because of the high price that cattle fetched in Wichita and Abilene, had staked everything on making the long drive up the Chisholm Trail. He had paid his hands off in Wichita and decided to make the journey back alone. He told me where his ranch was situated and said that if I ever needed a job, there was one there for me. He thought he owed me that at least, for saving him from going bust.

‘Why don’t you come with me son?’ he asked. ‘I’ll give you a damned good job with good pay and even make you the ranch foreman. I owe you that much.’

‘Wouldn’t do you much good Mr Burnham,’ I replied. ‘I know nothing about cows, especially longhorns.’

‘If you can ride a horse well, you can soon pick up the cattle business.’

‘It’s a fine offer sir, and I will think about it and let you know before you leave. I have been asked to work for Mr McKindrick and I would like to see what he has to offer first.’

‘Sure son, you sleep on it and let me know in the morning, I will be at McKindrick’s office tomorrow to collect my money and would feel safer if you were to accompany me to my ranch.’

I walked the old man to his hotel with no problems, where he gave me directions to his Ranch just in case I happened to be the area looking for work in the future. Then I returned to McKindrick’s place.

I sought him out and we went into his office to talk about his offer.

‘I won’t lie Mr McKindrick,’ I said. ‘Your offer interests me greatly and as long as it suits me financially, I’m willing to give it a try.’

‘Ok son,’ he said brightly. ‘Here’s what I propose. This is one of the most popular gambling saloons in Fort Worth. We have twenty five tables and on any given night, nearly all of them are occupied by between four and six gamblers. I plan to put a charge on every table, of a dollar a night. That works out to twenty five cents a head for four players or just over 16 cents a head for six. That should bring in anything up to twenty five dollars a night. On top of that, I’m going to have a private room for Faro with a fifty cents a head entry fee it will hold up to twenty players so that’s another ten dollars. I’m proposing to give you a cut of fifty percent on all table hire and faro room entry. You could make over seventeen dollars a night. Over seven nights, you could make upwards of a hundred dollars a week. That’s a lot more than you could earn punching cows or sod busting and it’s a damn sight more secure than gambling.’

‘What would I have to do for that?’

‘Nothing more than collect the rent on the tables and keep a lookout for cheats and card sharps. I have nothing against professionals as long as they don’t cheat. I want to get a reputation for fairness, where folks can come and play poker or faro knowing they aint gonna be cheated out of their money. That’s it, what do you say?’

‘I have to say, it is a very generous offer and one which I will be happy to accept.’

He grinned broadly and took my hand in his firm grip shaking it heartily.

‘I’m pleased that you are gonna be working with me Dan. You won’t regret it and you should make a fair bit of money from the arrangement. Go and have a couple of drinks on me and you can start tomorrow. Come and see me any time in the afternoon and we can go through everything then.’

I went into the bar and looked around. Every table was occupied, but that was because a big cattle drive was on the way through and there were many cowhands in town. But even without the big herds passing by, the town was always teeming with buffalo hunters, skinners, farmers and gamblers. Not to mention the many drifters and cowhands making their way south looking for jobs after being paid off in Wichita. I figured I could be on to a good thing.

The next day I ate a hearty breakfast then made my way over to McKindrick’s saloon. I passed the hotel where I had left Burnham the night before. The sheriff was just leaving the hotel with one of his deputies. When he caught sight of me he hailed me.

‘Hang on mister,’ he called.

I stopped and waited for him to catch up to me.

‘Everything alright sheriff?’ I asked mildly.

He eyed me suspiciously.

‘When did you last see Mr Burnham?’

‘Last night, I walked him to his hotel just to be sure he would get back safe.’

‘So you were the last to see him?’

‘I don’t know, I left him at the entrance there and went back to McKindrick’s place. Is something wrong?’

‘Somebody cut his throat and took all his money and if I were a gambler, you would be a good bet as the guilty party.’

I stared in disbelief. That poor old man who probably wouldn’t hurt a fly had been killed for nothing. Then it dawned on me that the sheriff was accusing me.

‘I liked that old man sheriff, he even offered me a job. Why would I want to kill him?’

‘He was carrying a big wad of cash, folks have been killed for less.’

‘Then he was killed for nothing sheriff. His cash is locked away in McKindrick’s safe. So whoever killed him, walked away with nothing more than the old man’s blood on their hands.’

The sheriff eyed me for a few moments before speaking.

‘Well, if that is true, then you would have no reason to kill him. Whoever it was, couldn’t have known he had left his money with McKindrick. I’ll have to check for myself that he did leave his money at the saloon. But I have little doubt, that you are telling the truth.’

The sheriff accompanied me to the saloon and McKindrick verified that Burnham had left his money there in the safe.

‘What should I do with the money now sheriff?’ McKindrick asked. ‘He has a ranch down near the Rio Grande as far as I know, but apart from that, I know no more about him than you do. I don’t know if he has any family or even exactly where his ranch is situated.’

‘That’s a hard one,’ the sheriff answered. ‘Nobody, as far as I know, knows him. Even those two cowpokes only met him in passing before they came here and they already told me they know nothing about him, apart from his name. So there is no way of getting in touch with his family if he has one.’

‘He mentioned earlier, that he had a family just before I left him last night,’ I put in. ‘He offered me a job, but I told him I wanted to see what Mr McKindrick was offering first. He wanted me to accompany him down to the Rio Grande for safety. But told me that if I decided to stay here I would be welcome to visit his ranch and to call in if ever I was in the area. He even gave me directions on how to get there.’

‘There’s the answer then,’ the sheriff announced. ‘If Burnham was willing to trust this young feller to go along with him while he was carrying all that money, maybe we should trust him to take it to the Rio Grande and locate his family.’

‘I can’t do that sheriff,’ I said. ‘I don’t want the responsibility of carrying all that money. What if I were to get ambushed along the way, or couldn’t find the ranch? You don’t even know if I would just keep on riding and keep the money for myself.’

‘I do now, a dishonest man would have jumped at the chance to get his hands on that money. But you refused outright to take on the responsibility.’

‘Well thanks for your confidence sheriff, but I already have a job with Mr McKindrick. I couldn’t let him down now even if I were willing to carry all that money, which I’m not.’

‘I liked that old man,’ McKindrick said. ‘I hate the thought of his family wondering where he is and losing their ranch because of what happened.’

‘I liked him too,’ I said. ‘He was willing to put his trust in me and I would have been proud to help if I could. But I cannot take on the responsibility of carrying all that money.’

‘What if you travelled without the money?’ Said McKindrick. ‘I would like that old man’s family to get what belongs to them and they deserve to know what happened to Burnham even if it, probably, isn’t something they will want to hear. Then somebody from the family could come back here with you to collect what is rightfully theirs and bank it here in Fort Worth.’

‘What about the job?’

‘I’ll keep the job open, you have my word on that Dan and just to show how strongly I feel about it, I’ll pay you half of what you might have made for every day you are away.’

I considered his offer for a while. I too wanted to see the old man’s family get what was rightfully theirs and I figured I could be there and back in less than two weeks.

‘Ok,’ I said mildly. ‘I’ll do it. I’ll take Burnham’s wagon and ride my horse back.’

‘I don’t know anything about your past Dan,’ said McKindrick. ‘But the way I figure it, you are a man who don’t like to see good folks trodden on by the kind of men those gamblers were and I admire your sense of justice.’

I wondered if he would admire me so much if he had known that my sense of justice had driven me to shoot down some men and possibly women and boys, in cold blood. Or that I could easily have warned that gambler that I knew he had a gun under the table, but I didn’t because my sense of justice wanted him to bring his gun up so that I could kill him. He never stood a chance, it was easy to gun him down and claim self-defence.

‘I might as well leave today,’ I announced. ‘I can get quite a few miles down the trail before the sun goes down. The sooner I set off, the sooner I’ll get back.’

EIGHTEEN

I followed the Chisholm Trail, crossing the Brazos River and stopping off in Waco. Then on to Austin and San Antonio, before turning west to Uvalde. Burnham’s ranch was located somewhere west of Uvalde, half way between there and the Rio Grande. In Uvalde, I was able to, successfully, get directions to the Burnham ranch.

As I approached the ranch house, the door opened and a surprisingly, young woman came out onto the stoop followed by an older woman. I climbed down from the wagon and removed my hat. Both women were staring at the wagon and horses, barely noticing me. I cleared my throat before speaking.

‘Excuse me Ladies,’ I began. ‘Am I right in thinking this is the Burnham ranch?’

The younger woman, little more than a girl really, looked up and silently appraised me before speaking.

‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘Where’s my grandpa? Why have you got his wagon and horses?’

The older woman had placed her fingers to her cheeks with her palms covering her mouth and I could see by her eyes that she was expecting bad news from me.

‘I’m sorry maam,’ I began. But before I could finish the older woman cried out.

‘Oh no!’ she gasped. ‘What has happened to him?’

There was no easy way to tell them the truth, so I decided to come right out with it and get it over with.

‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated. ‘I have to tell you John Burnham died at Fort Worth. He was killed by an unknown assailant for the money he was thought to be carrying.’

The girl cried out something incomprehensible, then turned and fell into the arms of the older woman. I could see by the way her shoulders were shaking, that she was sobbing as the older woman held her close. The elder of the two looked shocked but she was dry eyed as she comforted the girl. I was very uncomfortable as I always managed to be in the presence of grieving women. I had no words that could ease, either their sorrow or my discomfort. All I could do was to stand silently; awkwardly shuffling my feet and twisting my hat between my fingers.

Finally, the old woman spoke.

‘Have you travelled all the way from Fort Worth to bring his belongings back?’ She questioned.

‘Yes maam and to tell you that the money he got from the sale of his cattle is safe and waiting for somebody from his family to collect it.’

She looked puzzled for a moment. The girl was still leaning against her with her back to me, but she seemed to have stopped crying.

‘You say he was killed for his money,’ she said and there was a catch in her voice as she spoke as though she were finding it difficult to keep from breaking down. I guessed she was trying to stay strong for the sake of the girl.

‘Yes maam, but Mr Luke McKindrick, the owner of a saloon by the same name in Fort Worth, persuaded Mr Burnham to deposit it with him for safe keeping. Whoever Mr Burnham’s attacker was, must have thought he still had the money about his person. Nobody knows as yet, who it was that tried to rob him, but whoever it was, walked away with nothing.’

‘He left his money in the hands of a saloon keeper?’ Cried the girl.

‘Mr McKindrick is a honourable man maam, it was him who persuaded me to make the journey here to inform you that the money is safe and will be released into the hands of Mr Burnham’s closest kin anytime they wish to collect it.’

The girl had turned to face me now and her face was puffy from crying, but it did not hide how attractive she was. She looked around eighteen or nineteen and she spoke with a snuffle when she addressed me.

‘How can somebody kill such a kind man? My grandpa wouldn’t hurt a soul, he would have done nothing to deserve to have his life taken?’

‘Money makes folks do terrible things maam. Whoever killed your grandpa thought he was carrying a lot of it. I know it is of no comfort to you, but, at least, whoever did it, did not get their hands on the money.’

‘You are right, it is no comfort to me. We would sooner have my grandpa back than all the money in the world.’

The old woman nodded in assent. Then spoke to me.

‘You have had a long journey young fellow,’ she said. ‘You should come inside and have some food and drink.’

‘That’s kind of you maam, but in the circumstances, maybe I should leave you both alone with your grief.’

‘Leaving us alone isn’t going to make it easier to bear and where would you go? You are over thirty miles from Del Rio and around the same from Uvalde. We only have one hand working here permanently and he eats in the house with us. So you are welcome to join us. I guess you could at least, use a mug of hot coffee, or something stronger if you’ve a mind. Dinner will be ready in an hour.’

‘Coffee will be fine maam, but first I will unhitch the horses from the rig and tend to my own horse.’

‘There’s a coral round the back and hay in the barn, you can leave the rig by the side of the barn, I will look at my husband’s belongings later, you can leave them in the wagon.’

I could see she was having difficulty holding it together and would probably prefer to sort through her husband’s belongings alone when she could allow her grief to manifest itself in its own way.

‘Yes maam,’ I said before replacing my hat on my head and driving the wagon around the side of the barn. I unhitched the horses and untied my own mount from the back of the wagon, before leading them to the coral and spreading arms full of hay around for them.

I felt nervous as I walked back to the main house. I had never been able to understand women anyway. But grieving women left me tongue tied and uncomfortable.

I climbed the steps to the stoop and knocked on the door. It was opened a few seconds later by the girl. She didn’t look me in the eye, but looked past me at the yard outside.

‘Come in,’ she said bluntly as she stood aside.

I removed my hat and passed by her into the house.

‘Thank you maam,’ I said gently.

‘Take a seat,’ she offered. ‘There’s coffee on the stove, I’ll fill a mug for you.’

I sat on a wooden chair that was placed along with other chairs, around a big wooden table. We were in a kitchen with a door leading off to another part of the house. It was a well-stocked kitchen with a large stove and various cabinets and other furniture. The girl went to the stove where a jug of coffee was brewing atop it and filled a large mug with the dark liquid. She placed it before me without a word and went to a small table beside the stove to busy herself chopping vegetables.

I sipped at the coffee feeling very uncomfortable by the silence. I wondered where the old woman was and felt mildly surprised that she would leave me alone with her granddaughter. Finally, I could stand it no longer, I was embarrassed at being alone with the girl and what with my discomfort with the silence, I decided to leave the girl alone. I cleared my throat and got to my feet.

‘I think I’ll get some fresh air and finish my coffee outside maam,’ I said.

She stopped what she had been doing and turned to face me. She had been, silently crying. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet with tears. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand before responding.

‘How was he killed?’ She whispered.

It was a question I had been dreading.

‘You don’t need to know that maam, why cause yourself more distress than you already have?’

She glared at me.

‘How do you know what I need to know?’ She blazed. ‘Don’t treat me like a child mister, I have a right to know what happened to him.’

‘I’m just trying to spare you any more distress,’ I stammered. ‘Maybe if I tell your grandmother what happened, she will know better than me, whether or not to burden you with details of how he died.’

‘Oh, you think she is going to take what happened better than me when you tell her how her husband died?’

‘No, I mean....I don’t know...I’m sorry.’

She seemed to soften at seeing my embarrassment.

‘I need to know how he died,’ she said softly. ‘Despite what you think, my grandmother is very fragile. After you left to tend to the horses, she went to pieces and broke down. She is now in her bed in a state of extreme grief. Now tell me what happened and I will decide what to tell her.’

I stared at her for a few seconds. It would seem I had got it wrong. Of the two, the girl was the stronger one. I came to the decision that it would be wise to be honest.

‘He had been tortured to reveal the whereabouts of his money and then when his tormentors realised he didn’t have it, they cut his throat and left him to die.’

She fell silent for a long time and I wondered if I had done the right thing by being so blunt about the cause of her grandfather’s death. Finally, she spoke and I could see she was fighting valiantly, to keep the tears from starting again.

‘Thank you Mr .....?’ She said.

‘Anderson Maam, Daniel Anderson.’

‘Thank you Mr Anderson, if you don’t mind I would like a little time to compose myself. You mentioned that you would like some fresh air.’

‘Yes maam.’

I walked to the door with the coffee in my hand and let myself out.

After wondering around for a while, I finished my coffee and sat down on the stoop with my back against the wall of the house. Pretty soon, I was dozing and the next thing I knew, somebody was shaking me awake with a hand on my shoulder and a man’s voice was speaking.

‘Señor, señor.’

I opened my eyes and looked up into the face of an old Mexican Vaquero.

‘Howdy,’ I mumbled for want of something better to say.

‘Hello Señor, the Señora wishes you to come inside, there is food on the table.’

He smiled down at me and seemed very friendly, but I could see the sadness in his face and wondered if he had been told about his boss. I assumed that he was the cowhand who Mrs Burnham had told me about.

‘There is water and soap if you need to wash,’ he continued and pointed to an outhouse at the side of the building.

‘Thank you, I will freshen up.’

‘I am Ramiro Martinez Señor, I work for Mr Burnham.’

‘Howdy do, Ramiro? I am Daniel Anderson. I came here to return Mr Burnham’s wagon and belongings.’

‘Yes Señor it is very sad what has happened. He was a very fine man.’

‘I only knew him briefly, Ramiro. But what I saw of him fit’s your description perfectly.’

He turned and went inside the house, while I, in turn, went to the outhouse to wash up. When I had finished, I went back and knocked on the door, which was opened again by the girl. She ushered me inside and beckoned to a free chair at the table.

‘Please sit Mr Anderson,’ she said sadly.

I pulled out the chair and sat down while the girl went to the stove, returning to the table with a plate of steaming hot food which she placed in front of me. Next to me sat Ramiro, opposite him was Mrs Burnham and the girl sat down opposite me after putting down my food.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I hope I didn’t hold you up.’

‘You didn’t,’ said the old woman. ‘But we have already said grace. Perhaps you would like a moment of silence.’

‘It’s ok maam, I am not a religious man.’

She looked up sharply as if I had blasphemed.

‘Beg your pardon maam, but after all the suffering I have seen, it isn’t easy to believe there is a merciful god.’

All eyes were on me as if I had suddenly become interesting and I felt my face flushing.

‘Well, everyone is entitled to their beliefs Mr Anderson,’ the old woman said. ‘However, the next time you eat with us, you will have to observe our beliefs.’

‘Which I would gladly do maam, but I will be heading back to Fort Worth presently and much as I appreciate your expectation that I would be eating with you again, I urgently need to be on my way.’

‘We were under the impression that you would accompany us to Fort Worth Mr Anderson. I need to say my goodbyes to my husband and the money he got from the sale of our cattle is required here to pay off our debts and keep the ranch going.’

I took a mouthful of beef and vegetables and chewed on it for a while before answering.

‘That wasn’t the plan maam, I came here to return his belongings and to tell you about the money. I thought you would be making your own arrangements. I’m sorry to bring this up while we are eating maam. But by now, because of the heat, your husband will already have been buried, otherwise I would have brought him with me to be buried here. Maybe it would be wise to have a period of mourning and make the journey when you are feeling more up to it.’

‘Mr Anderson, despite having to grieve for my husband, I have to face reality. We need that money to keep our heads above water. My husband borrowed money to keep this ranch going and for that cattle drive. Now we need to pay it back or lose the ranch. I understand the reason for not bringing my husband here, but I wonder why you did not bring the money.’

‘I was asked to bring the money maam, but I could not take on the responsibility. I was virtually a stranger and who could say I would not have kept riding with that money, I would have been hard to find, and I could have gone anywhere.’

‘Would you have done that Mr Anderson?’ the girl asked.

‘No maam I would not. I liked Mr Burnham, he seemed like a fine man. He even offered me a job.’

‘I take it, you didn’t accept the offer.’

‘No I didn’t, I had already been offered another job which I considered, in my case, to be preferable. But I did ask him to let me sleep on it. Regretfully, that was the last I saw of him.’

‘What if I offered you a job?’ Mrs Burnham enquired.

‘I’m sorry maam, I would have to turn you down. I have already accepted Mr McKindrick’s offer in Fort Worth.’

‘Well thank you for your honesty at least,’ she said quietly.

We finished the meal in silence, then I asked to be excused while I tended my horse and made ready for the return journey to Fort Worth. I had a feeling of guilt, as though I should be trying to do more for them. But I did not know what else I could do. I didn’t owe them a thing. I had already gone over and above what could reasonably be expected of me by making the journey down here.

I saddled my horse before I retrieved my cooking utensils and what few supplies I had left, from the wagon. Then led the horse to the front of the house where the two women and the Mexican, Ramiro were waiting.

‘Thank you for your hospitality maam,’ I said tipping my hat.

‘Thank you for making the journey from Fort Worth on our behalf,’ the woman replied. ‘We are grateful that you did.’

‘I hope you find transportation to Fort Worth maam. I will inform Mr McKindrick that somebody from here will be coming to collect Mr Burnham’s money eventually.’

‘What if I paid you to bring the money back?’

I looked at the old woman, she seemed desperate but it would take me close on three weeks to get to Fort Worth, then back here and back to Fort Worth again.

‘I would like to help you maam, I really would. But doing that would ruin my plans.’

Her shoulders slumped and she seemed to have resigned herself.

‘I understand Mr Anderson, it was wrong of me to ask. I hope you have a safe journey.’

‘Take me with you.’ The girl suddenly cried.

I stared at her in surprise.

‘I can collect the money if you take me to Fort Worth.’

‘I cannot do that maam.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘Because I need to make good headway on horseback over rough terrain, a wagon will hold me back.’

‘I am a good horsewoman, I have been rounding up longhorns since I was old enough to ride.’

‘I’m sorry maam, I could not take you with me.’

‘He is right,’ said the old woman. ‘There is no telling what you might encounter out there on the plains. I could not let you go, I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.’

‘Then we will have to give up the ranch, we have less than a month to pay what we owe or lose everything.’

‘Then we will lose everything, I will not risk you making that journey and anyway, how would you get back alone?’

‘I could go Señora,’ put in Ramiro.

‘It is good of you to offer Ramiro, but the reason you were not allowed on the drive to Wichita was because of your painful back and legs. You cannot ride a horse for more than an hour, but I do appreciate the offer.’

I looked at them all in turn. They looked dejected and forlorn, it was a long ride from their ranch to Fort Worth and back again. I thought I must have been crazy to offer, but for some reason I could not justify, I did.

‘Alright,’ I said resignedly. ‘If you give me written authority on a bill of sale or some other document with your name on it, I will collect the money and bring it back here.’

The girl eyed me with more than a little suspicion etched on her face.

‘Oh thank you Mr Anderson,’ cried the woman. ‘We will find a way to repay you, I promise.’

‘What made you change your mind?’ Asked the girl pointedly.

‘Maam, I honestly don’t know.’ I murmured. ‘I’m beginning to think I must be crazy and you must be crazy to trust me, you don’t know anything about me.’

‘What alternative do we have?’ Sighed the woman.

‘None I guess. I will try to make sure I don’t let you down maam.’

‘I cannot expect anything more,’ she answered. ‘You have our undying gratitude Mr Anderson.’

‘You seem to have changed your mind a little too easily,’ the girl blurted. ‘How can we be sure you haven’t suddenly realised how easy it would be to make off with our money?’

‘You can’t be sure maam. But if you would prefer to make other arrangements, I will be more than happy to stick to my original plans.’

‘Sally!’ her grandmother cried by way of admonishment.

‘I’m sorry Grandma, but we do not know this man, you are far too trusting.’

‘You are far too quick to judge young lady,’ snapped the woman. ‘I am sorry Mr Anderson, you must ignore her outburst she is very exuberant and speaks her mind before she has time to think. I hope it will not deter you from setting out to do what you promised.’

She glared at the girl who stood with her arms tightly folded across her chest and her lips compressed into a tight line.

‘I made my promise to you Mrs Burnham and it is to you, I will keep my promise.’

That did not go down well with the girl and she shot me a look of pure disdain.

I set out heading for San Antonio and had only gone a few miles when I heard a shout behind me. I turned in the saddle to see a rider approaching at speed. It was the girl and she was riding a quarter horse, a very fast and agile Mustang cross. She reined in beside me, her horse going from a gallop to a stop in no time at all. She had changed the dress she had been wearing for a shirt, pants and leather chaps. On her head she wore a Stetson, with her brown hair tumbling down from beneath it onto her shoulders. On her feet, she wore calf high, leather boots.

I looked at her inquisitively.

‘I wanted to apologise to you,’ she said breathlessly. It was obvious that she had been riding hard to catch me up.

‘You have me there maam,’ I answered. ‘I didn’t realise you had done anything to apologise for.’

‘I wasn’t very nice to you, even though you came all that way from Fort Worth to return my Grandpa’s things and to tell us what had happened to him.’

I did not want to embarrass her by agreeing that she had indeed, appeared to be undisciplined and headstrong.

‘To be honest maam, I didn’t notice, if I had I would have thought it was normal behaviour for somebody who had just heard bad news about a close relative.’

‘My name is Sally, I hate being addressed as maam, I am only eighteen years old and that term makes me feel like a much older woman.’

‘Sorry maam.....Sally. I didn’t know your name so it was out of politeness that I used the term.’

Her face lit up with a bright smile and I saw that she was even more attractive than my first impression of her, if that were possible.

‘Of course,’ she said gently. ‘I should have matched your behaviour Mr Anderson. You were a true gentleman but alas, I did not act like a true lady.’

‘If you’ve a mind to Sally, I would prefer that you call me Dan. But that is up to you of course.’

‘Then can we start again Dan? I don’t want you to go all that way to Fort Worth with a bad impression of me. After all, you might think that I don’t deserve that you bring the money back. You could just take it and run and who could blame you the way I behaved?’

‘Oh, I see,’ I said slowly as it dawned on me the real reason why she had ridden so hard to catch me up.

‘You see what Daniel?’ She asked, using my full alias first name.

‘I don’t like to speak unduly Sally, but you just made it plain to me, that the real reason you came after me, was that you are afraid I would make off with your Grandpa’s money because of your bad behaviour. You don’t really care what I think about you as long as I bring the money back.’

Suddenly her eyes blazed and she pulled back her lips from her perfect teeth.

‘That money belongs to my Grandmother,’ she blazed angrily. ‘If you take it and run, I will kill you.’

The change in her was incredible. From a sweet girl to an angry young woman in a heartbeat.

‘Well now we know,’ I grinned. ‘I guess I will never understand women as long as I live. They say one thing and mean something entirely different.’

She seemed to realise her temper had let her down and she suddenly mellowed again.

‘I’m sorry Dan,’ she said slowly. ‘I regret that I said that, I have a terrible temper and often say things I don’t really mean.’

I grinned as I looked into her, now, serene face.

‘Think nothing of it maam, I’m sure your Grandmother sleeps easier knowing she has you speaking on her behalf.’

‘She doesn’t know I am here,’ she said mildly. ‘She thinks I am on the prairie cutting out some calves.’

She hesitated before speaking again.

‘I’ve made it worse haven’t I?’

‘Well maam, you haven’t been exactly diplomatic. You certainly know how to antagonize folks.’

‘Look Dan,’ she breathed. ‘I promise, when you return things will be different between us, I will be really friendly with you I sure would like to get to know you better.’

Was there nothing she wouldn’t try? She reminded me so much of Chameli the way she tried to manipulate me.

‘Ok Sally,’ I smiled. ‘Let’s see how it goes then.’

I urged my horse on and began to ride away.

‘Does that mean you will be back?’

I didn’t turn round, but called over my shoulder.

‘That’s for me to know and you to worry about.’

That girl has the worst kind of temper, I thought, as the last sound I heard from her mouth before the sound of her horse’s hooves galloping away, was a very loud and frustrated scream.

NINETEEN

It took less than five days to get to Fort Worth. I arrived around midday on the fifth day. I was very hungry, having used up the last of my supplies the previous day. There is only so much a horse can carry besides its rider. That’s the beauty of pack animals on a long journey.

I liveried my horse and found a suitable eating house where I had a good meal before confronting McKindrick. I intended to ask him to hold the job open for me while I travelled back to the Rio Grande with Mrs Burnham’s money. On the way back to Fort Worth, I had harboured thoughts that because of the way the girl had tried to manipulate me, it would be no more than she deserved if I did make off with their money. There was enough there to realise some of my dreams. I had thought often, during periods of solitude, about travelling to South America. That money could make my dreams come true. Then I thought of the old lady and how much she relied on the money to keep the ranch and it was then that I realised, I really did have a softer side to my character.

It was early afternoon when I walked into McKindrick’s saloon. I found him playing cards at one of the tables with his barkeep. Only one other table was occupied by three other card players. The only other occupants, were three men leaning on the bar drinking whiskey. Both McKindrick and the barman looked up as I approached the table and McKindrick’s eyes lit up in recognition.

‘Dan,’ he grinned. ‘Welcome back, I was just thinking about you last night.’

I removed my hat.

‘Howdy Mr McKindrick,’ I said. ‘Nothing bad I hope.’

‘Not at all,’ he laughed. ‘In fact it was all good. I am ready to put you to work as soon as you are ready. There’s a big cattle drive expected in the next couple of days so a lot of money is gonna change hands in here. You made good time son, I didn’t expect you back yet but I’m glad you made it early. I take it you found the family of the old man ok and broke the bad news.’

The bartender got to his feet and went to the bar to serve a new customer and I sat down in his place.

‘That’s what I want to talk to you about sir.

‘Oh?’

‘Yes, his widow is relying on that money to save their ranch. If she doesn’t pay their debts in the next few days, they will lose everything. I promised them I would collect the money and take it to them.’

He looked at me in silence for a long time, weighing up what I had said I guessed. Then he spoke.

‘So what are you saying Dan? Are you turning the job down now?’

‘Not exactly sir, I was hoping you would keep it open for me until I get back, but I would not blame you if you found you couldn’t do that.’

‘Son,’ he replied. ‘In a couple of days’ time, this town is gonna be heaving with cowhands wanting to get the dust of the trail out of their throats and lose their hard earned money at the poker tables. It will be the worst time for you not to be here.’

‘I’m sorry Mr McKindrick, but I promised the old lady and I cannot go back on a promise.’

‘In which case you will be going back on the promise you made to me.’

‘I realise that sir, but you don’t stand to lose everything.’

‘Son, I like you, you have some very good qualities, one of them being your willingness to help folks that can’t stand up for themselves. I think that quality could one day, get you into trouble. But I admire you for it anyway. I cannot guarantee the job will be here for you when you return, I will have to hire somebody in your place seeing as how busy we are gonna be. If I cannot find somebody willing to take it on a temporary basis. I will have to get somebody in permanently. Do you understand?’

‘That’s the best I could hope for sir and I thank you. I have a letter vouching for me to collect the money and some ranch bills of sale from Mrs Burnham as proof of who wrote the letter. If it is alright with you I will collect the money in the morning and set off early.’

The next morning, I left Fort Worth unaware that it was to be over three years before I saw McKindrick again. During which time, my life took yet another turn.

TWENTY

I bought a pack mule for the return journey, making sure I would have enough supplies and utensils for a more comfortable and leisurely trip. I figured there would still be time for them to pay their debts if I stretched the journey to a couple of extra days. I wanted to make the girl, Sally, stew a little. She deserved to become anxious after trying to fool me into thinking she was genuinely sorry. On the way I passed a huge herd of cattle and drovers coming up the Chisholm Trail and guessed this was the one McKindrick was expecting.

As I neared the ranch, they must have seen the dust of my approach from over half a mile away, because it wasn’t long before Sally was galloping her quarter horse at break neck speed in my direction. I stopped when she got to within a couple of hundred yards and she pulled the horse to a skidding halt beside me. I could see the anxiety on her face as she spoke through heavy breaths.

‘Did you get it?’ she gasped.

‘Nice to see you too,’ I replied.

‘Yes, but did you get it?’

‘No, I rode all this way to let you know I lost it all playing faro in McKindrick’s saloon.’

‘What?’ she cried.

‘Never mind,’ I replied as I urged my horse forward.

She brought her horse alongside mine.

‘What did you mean?’ she screeched.

I didn’t feel I owed her any kind of respect. She seemed like a spoilt child and I thought a good paddling wouldn’t do her any harm.

‘The money belonged to your Grandmother, so I will explain what happened to it, to her.’

‘Belonged?’ she cried. ‘What do you mean? What has happened to it?’

I was enjoying seeing her squirm. She was frantic as she rode beside me. I remained tight lipped as I urged my horse to a steady lope bearing in mind the mule on the lead rope.

‘Tell me!’ She screamed as she matched my pace. ‘What have you done with my grandpa’s money?’

‘Shut up Sally,’ I growled.

I figured she had never been spoken to that way before. I had no idea what had happened to her own folks, but she had obviously been raised by her grandparents and it seemed to me, she lacked discipline.

‘I won’t be spoken to like that by some no good, two bit, thieving drifter,’ she screamed. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are you fucking half-baked son of whoring horse thief.’

The last time I heard cussing like that was from an old mule skinner who I took a knife from at gun point after he accused me of cheating in a card game. He started cussing me after he came round with a deep gash on his forehead after I struck him with the butt of my rifle.

I wondered if she had learned it from being around cowpokes. I was pretty sure her grandmother wouldn’t approve.

I continued my steady pace without answering her which only served to fuel her anger and she carried on a steady tirade of cussing and insults against me.

‘You are fucking dead mister,’ she continued. ‘I’m gonna get Ramiro to take a knife to you and cut you up into tiny pieces, then I’m gonna feed you to the fucking pigs. See how you like your slimy guts being gobbled up by a big fat hog.’

‘I figure if I am cut up into tiny bits, I won’t much care one way or the other,’ I replied happily.

‘Oh you won’t think it’s so funny when I slit your chicken shit throat, you goat fucking bastard.’

I was grinning from ear to ear which only served to antagonise her even more. I had never enjoyed anything as much in a long time and I felt a sense of disappointment when we finally reached the ranch and the girl fell silent. She had been cussing me none stop the whole way and I believed she could teach some of the most hardened buffalo hunters, insults that would up their reputations no end.

Mrs Burnham and Ramiro came onto the stoop as I dismounted. The girl slung her left leg over the pommel to connect with her right one and slid easily from the saddle, alighting two footed onto the ground. Ramiro came down the steps and silently, took the horses away.

‘Welcome Mr Anderson,’ said the woman politely. ‘It is very good to see you, I do hope you have good news for me.’

Before I could answer, Sally piped up.

‘It’s no good hoping he has the money Grandma, cos he hasn’t,’ she yelled, before turning to me with a look of defiance on her face daring me to prove her wrong. ‘He’s nothing but a low down thief who should be horse whipped.’

I grinned back at her, which only provoked more anger.

‘You said that without swearing,’ I pointed out mildly.

‘Sally!’ scolded her grandmother. ‘That is no way to treat Mr Anderson after he made the long journey on our behalf. If he did what you accuse him of, why would he return here?’

‘That’s what I would like to know,’ she said vehemently.

‘I’m sorry Mrs Burnham,’ I said. ‘I could not help but have a little fun at your granddaughter’s expense after she showed so much mistrust in me. Of course I have your money, every last cent of it. If I may, I will hand it over to you inside the house.’

Sally glared at me with something akin to hatred in her big eyes and I feared that I had made a lifelong enemy. Then she stormed off without a word, probably to do some private cussing out of earshot of her grandmother.

‘I’m sorry about her behaviour and please forgive me Mr Anderson, you must be weary and in need of something to eat and drink. Please come inside and take advantage of our hospitality.’

I removed my hat and followed her inside the kitchen noticing as I did so that she was wearing black and I wondered briefly, how long she would be in mourning.

‘Please sit Mr Anderson,’ she said gently. ‘I have a half bottle of whiskey that belonged to my husband, I’m sure a small glass would be welcome after your journey.’

‘Thank you maam,’ I replied. ‘That it would and I would be happy for you to join me in a toast to your late husband, I did not know him well, but he seemed like a fine man.’

I failed to add that it was his foolishness that had probably got him killed.

‘I don’t normally drink whiskey,’ she replied, before hurriedly adding. ‘But on this occasion, I will take a small one and drink a toast to my husband who was indeed, a very fine man.’

She went to a cupboard and came back with a three quarter full bottle of bourbon and two glasses. It was good stuff, not the rotgut whiskey normally to be found in bars all over the west.

She sat down at the table opposite me and we toasted her husband’s memory. She knocked the drink back in one go as I took a sip from mine. I stared at her empty glass for a moment, then did the same with my drink, throwing it down my throat as she had done.

‘Oh that landed right where it was meant to Mr Anderson,’ she enthused as she poured two more drinks.

She held her glass high.

‘To you Mr Anderson,’ she said and once more knocked back the drink. For a woman that didn’t normally drink whisky, she certainly had style. I followed suit and she immediately, poured another shot into each glass.

‘We must drink to my headstrong granddaughter now,’ she said. ‘I must apologise for her behaviour Mr Anderson, I am afraid she has been spoilt, but she does have a good heart and hardly means anything she says.’

‘I hope she don’t maam, otherwise I would be pig fodder now.’

The woman looked at me askance, but didn’t follow up on what I had said. Her main priority, appeared to be downing another glass of whiskey.

‘To Sally,’ she said, before draining her glass once more.

‘To Sally,’ I echoed and swallowed the whiskey in my own glass. I wasn’t sure Sally would approve of me drinking to her health but what the hell. I could feel the whiskey taking a hold and my head was beginning to feel a bit woozy. But yet again she poured whiskey into the glasses. Leaving just a small amount in the bottom of the bottle.

‘A toast to Ramiro,’ she slurred holding her glass high. ‘One of the finest vaqueros to come out of Mexico until his horse broke a leg and fell on him poor man.’

Inexplicitly, she giggled as though she found it funny, then drank her whiskey.

I sipped mine slowly, deciding we had both had enough.

She stared at me through one eye, the other one, I guessed, was closed so that she wouldn’t see two of me.

‘Who shall we drink to now Mr Anderson?’ she asked, thickly slurring her words.

‘I think we have both had enough maam,’ I answered.

‘We haven’t toasted your Saloon owner’s health yet,’ she said.

‘Nor yours,’ I replied.

She grasped the bottle and held it up high.

‘A toast to both of us,’ she cried.

She placed the neck of the bottle to her lips and began to drink just as Sally chose that precise moment to enter the room.

She stared at her grandmother as she drained the last of the whiskey from the bottle. Then she glared at me angrily.

‘What have you done to my grandma?’ she screeched.

The woman giggled like a child as she swayed in her chair. She still held the bottle in one hand and was pointing the index finger of the other at the girl and moving her hand from side to side as she did so.

‘Oh hush child,’ she slurred. ‘Mr Anderson and I were drinking a toast to your grandpa’s memory that’s all. Just teeny little drink to remember him by.’

Sally looked horrified.

‘How can you be so foolish as to allow a complete stranger to get you drunk? You are sitting there with a no good, low down drifter, drinking whiskey as though he is your best friend in the world.’

I felt myself grinning from ear to ear so light was my mood and I felt happier in that moment than I had felt for a long time. The girl’s anger amused me no end. The angrier she got, the more endearing she became. Maybe it was because of the whiskey, I don’t know, but the more she blustered, the more I liked her.

‘What are you grinning at?’ she screamed. ‘You think it’s funny to ply an old lady with drink? I don’t trust you mister and I’m gonna find out what you are up to and if I find you are taking advantage of my grandma, I’m coming after you with a gun.’

‘Yes maam,’ I sniggered.

She obviously didn’t like me laughing at her and her eyes blazed angrily as her fury erupted and she suddenly waded in to me with her small fists while I instinctively, covered my head with my arms as she rained down blows upon me. She was grunting and yelping from the effort and the more she tried to hit me, the more I couldn’t help laughing which in turn set her to swearing and insulting me, ‘fucking bastard,’ being one of the minor insults she used. Her grandmother was giggling uncontrollably which didn’t help matters. Some of the blows really hurt when she managed to get through my guard. But I was in such a state of hilarity, that I simply took them and laughed even louder.

She stopped pummelling me and turned to her Grandmother.

‘I want him thrown off our land grandma,’ she gasped, breathing heavily from the attack on me. ‘I do not trust him, what kind of man gets an old lady drunk unless it’s to take advantage of her?’

‘Oh hush,’ smiled her Grandmother. ‘How do you suppose he is going to take advantage of me child? I am not some slip of a girl who don’t know her own mind.’ She grinned at the girl, before adding, ‘nor a spoilt child who wears her heart on her sleeve and doesn’t know how to curb her temper.’

‘Grandma!’ Yelped the girl. ‘How can you say those things when all I am doing is looking out for you? I won’t change my mind about this man, I don’t like him and I do not trust him.’

The old lady suddenly turned serious; angry even and I wondered if she was really as drunk as she had appeared.

‘Yes, I guessed that Sally, since you have been telling me and Ramiro, many times a day since Mr Anderson left, that we would never see him again. Well what do you know? Here he is and he has brought your Grandpa’s money back with him. To not trust him and be ungrateful to him as well is out of the question. Your problem Sally, is that he has proved you wrong and made a fool of you to boot and being the spoilt child that you are it doesn’t sit well with your arrogant mind.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ I said raising my empty glass.

Sally looked at her Grandmother for long moments in disbelief. Then she turned and glared at me. I raised my glass high and grinned at her. She clenched her fists by her side and leaned closer to me with her pretty face mere inches from mine, then she let out the loudest, piercing scream I had ever heard. I cringed as it threatened to burst my eardrums, then I watched, shocked, as the girl turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

‘She’ll be alright,’ said her Grandmother. ‘She’s a good girl really, just a bit highly strung.’

‘I’m sorry I teased her maam, but she leaves herself open for it. I wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings too much though.’

‘It is fine Mr Anderson, sometimes she needs to be taken down a peg or two. Her Grandpa spoilt her, she could easily get her way with him, and he would forgive her anything. But I am not so weak and yet, she still tries to test me just to see if I will give a little.’

She looked at the empty bottle in her hand as though seeing it for the first time.

‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry Mr Anderson, but we appear to have run out of whiskey, just when I was enjoying myself.’

I looked at her in admiration and wondered who the bottle had really belonged to, she seemed to be able to drink whiskey like an old mule skinner.

‘I’ve had my fill maam,’ I replied. ‘Remind me not to challenge you to a drinking competition any time soon. Please call me Daniel by the way.’

‘Why Daniel,’ she giggled. ‘Are you saying I am an old drunk?’

‘Not at all maam, I admire your capacity for whiskey and feel embarrassed that I would never be able to match it.’

She smiled at me, then climbed unsteadily, to her feet.

‘There’s coffee on the stove if you’ve a mind,’ she said. ‘I think I need some myself.’

‘Then I will join you maam, a mug off coffee will be most welcome, but please sit back down and allow me to do it.’

‘Thank you Daniel, I feel a bit unsteady on my feet maybe it would be wiser to let you handle a scalding hot jug of coffee rather than me trying to do it in my state.’

I poured two mugs of coffee and sat opposite her.

‘I have your money Mrs Burnham, would you like me to give it to you now?’ I asked carefully.

‘No, I want you to keep it on you until morning. Then, if you are willing, I would like you to take it to San Antonio and pay what we owe into the bank.’

‘Maam, I had planned on getting an early start so that I may make it back to Fort Worth as soon as possible.’

‘I understand you wanting to get away from here Mr Anderson, um....Daniel and I have no right to ask you after what you have already done for us. But I have nobody else I can turn to. I am not capable of making the journey myself. Ramiro would not know what to do and is too old to protect himself should somebody try to rob him. That leaves Sally and I could not send her alone, I would never forgive myself if something happened to her.’

‘How about if you let Ramiro and Sally go together?’

‘I could do that, but Ramiro would not be capable of protecting her if they were attacked. You though, Daniel, seem like a man who is capable of taking care of himself and I doubt you would be an easy target. Also, if they both went, I would be left here alone and vulnerable.’

I had taken an intense liking to the old lady and despite her granddaughter’s objection to me, I wanted to help her if I could.

‘Mrs Burnham, you know how to hogtie a man. What can I say? You talk a good argument knowing I would feel forever guilty if anything happened to that money and whoever was carrying it.’

‘Then you’ll do it?’

‘I don’t see how I can get out of it maam.’

‘We will be forever in your debt Daniel, what you are doing will save this ranch and give us a chance to build on what we have.’

‘Yes maam.’ I said. ‘But can I ask you why you have never questioned me about the amount of money your husband had been carrying?’

‘I trust you to tell me in your own time Daniel. After all I have had to place my trust in you since you first arrived here and you haven’t let me down yet. We were hoping to get at least, twenty dollars a head for one thousand five hundred head of cattle. We borrowed twelve thousand dollars to buy the herd at eight dollars a head. After the cost of the drive and wages, we figured on a clear profit of between sixteen and seventeen thousand dollars, that’s after paying back what we borrowed plus interest.

‘Well maam, he must have sold the herd for a hell of a lot more than twenty dollars a head, because he had more than thirty four thousand dollars on him, plus nearly two thousand dollars he won at cards.’

She looked at me with surprise etched on her face.

‘That is far more than I expected, Daniel,’ she gasped. ‘He must have got something close to twenty three dollars a head for them. However, I’m not sure I am happy about him risking money on a game of cards, he could easily have gotten in over his head.’

I smiled to myself, if she knew just how much over his head he had got in, she would be far from happy.

‘That was a terrible thing for me to say about my husband when he isn’t here to defend himself,’ she said sadly.

‘Well no harm came of it maam, he won so look on the bright side,’ I hesitated, before continuing. ‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t a particularly appropriate thing to say under the circumstances.’

‘I know what you meant Daniel,’ she said softly. ‘He may have had the odd weakness, but he was a fine man who would do anything for anybody, so who am I to deny him the odd, harmless vice, if that is what gambling is.’

I looked at her face and saw that she was close to tears. I decided that maybe, she needed some time alone.

‘Maam,’ I said. ‘What with the journey here and the whiskey, which I have to admit, has gone to my head somewhat, I’m kinda bushed, so If it’s all the same with you I’ll go and get a little shuteye before supper.’

‘Of course Daniel,’ she said, brightening up. ‘The bunk house is attached to the barn, all the bunks are empty except Ramiro’s. I’ll send him to wake you when supper is ready.’

‘Thank you Mrs Burnham, I look forward to seeing you later.’

I donned my hat and left to find the bunk house. It was a clean and tidy room with six bunks and a stove that doubled up as a room heater and somewhere to heat water for washing and for coffee. Each bunk had a clean blanket covering it and a pillow. The bunk nearest the door had a small cabinet beside it, and various article of clothing and personal belongings laid neatly on the bed. I guessed it belonged to Ramiro.

I collapsed onto the far bunk with a big sigh, never had a bed felt so good and I was asleep within seconds.

I don’t know how long I slept, but I was awakened by Ramiro after what seemed like minutes, but was probably a couple of hours. I washed in cold water and followed him to the main house. Sally was already seated at the table, so before Ramiro could do so, I took the chair that would not be facing her, that way I was able to sit diagonally from her I didn’t want her screaming into my face again. As I sat down I noticed she made a point of not looking at me, nor did she speak. Mrs Burnham was busying herself with the meal but she turned and welcomed me and I saw a look of amusement on her face when she saw where I had sat. We ate for the most part in silence, although I did enquire of the old lady, how she was feeling. She had smiled at me and said she felt as good as could be expected under the circumstances.

‘Unless,’ she said gaily. ‘You are referring the small drink we had earlier, in which case, for a short time at least, I felt better than I have felt for long time.’

At this, Sally nearly choked on her food and gave her grandmother what was at best, a look of disapproval and at worst, a look of pure contempt.

‘Sally disapproves of me drinking,’ she continued. ‘She thinks it makes me seem weak and a foolish old lady. What do you think Daniel?’

‘Whatever gets you through the night Maam is fine in my book. Anything that brinks a little light into the gloom can’t be all bad.’

I could feel the girl’s eyes burning into me, but I refused to look at her.

‘I never said that Grandma,’ Sally blustered. ‘It’s just that I think you could become too reliant on drink. The odd sip now and then won’t do you no harm. But to see you drink a whole bottle full with this......this, poor excuse for a man urging you on, turned my stomach and the sooner he leaves here the better.’

The woman grinned at me and I smiled back, but no more was said until the meal was over. I was happy to take the blame, even though it was not my idea to drink the whiskey. In a couple of days, I would be gone anyway and unlikely to see any of them again.

After the meal, Ramiro excused himself and left to tend the few chores he had left before sundown.

The old lady poured coffee and brought three mugs to the table.

‘Not for me grandma,’ Sally said forcefully. ‘I don’t want to sit here any longer than I have to.’

She began to rise from her chair just as the woman sat down.

‘Sit down Sally,’ she snapped with strong authority in her voice. ‘I have something to say and it concerns you as well as Daniel.’

The girl looked shocked as she sat down again giving me the impression that she wasn’t used to taking orders.

‘How can anything you have to say to me concern him?’ she whined. ‘He will be going in the morning and we will never see him again.’ Then, as an afterthought, she added, ‘I hope.’

I waited nervously for the eruption that was sure to occur when the woman told the girl about me taking her money to the bank.

‘Daniel will not be leaving in the morning or anytime soon if he takes me up on my offer.’

It was my turn to look shocked. What was she talking about? I had agreed to stay another day to deposit her money, but she had mentioned nothing about an offer.

‘I appreciate your hospitality Maam, but I don’t intend to stay another day longer than I have to.’

‘There you see,’ said the girl with a sigh of relief. ‘He wants to leave and who are we to go against what he wants to do?’

The woman looked at me steadily.

‘I have a proposition for you Daniel. But we won’t talk about until you get back from San Antonio with the supplies.’

‘What?’ the girl cried. ‘What’s going on Grandma?’

‘Daniel has kindly agreed to take the money your Grandpa got for the sale of the herd and deposit it into the bank for me.’

Here it comes I thought, as the girl’s pretty mouth opened and she tried to speak. All that came out though was a strangled cry.

‘Don’t bother trying to protest child I trust Daniel. If he was going to rob us, he wouldn’t even have brought the money to us in the first place. But just to put your mind at rest, you will be going with him to San Antonio.’

Now it was my turn to stare open mouthed at the old lady.

‘I did not agree to that Mrs Burnham, it’s hard enough making the trip in a wagon over rough ground without having to baby sit a spoilt kid who don’t know how to stop spitting out anything that enters her thick head. Begging your pardon Maam, but that’s the truth of it.’

‘You are right Daniel,’ the woman said. ‘Everything you said is true. But she has so many other qualities that as yet, are unseen. Her mother was just the same, but she turned out to be one of the strongest women I have ever known. The truth is you will need her to do the banking on her Grandfather’s behalf. She already has her own account and the Banker knows her.’

Sally glared at her Grandmother, then at me and then back at her Grandmother.

‘Why are you talking about me as though I am not here and how can you let him say those things Grandma and then agree with him?’

‘Because what he says is the truth and you know it girl. Anyway, there will be no arguing. You will accompany Daniel to San Antonio tomorrow and Daniel, I want you to keep her in line, don’t let her get away with a damned thing or she will take advantage of you.’

Sally jumped to her feet and screamed before running from the room.

I watched as she disappeared through the door to what I assumed was the lounge. I wasn’t happy about the arrangement but I had made a promise to the woman and I would keep it. What she had said made sense. The banker didn’t know me and might not accept the payment on the debt if it was from a stranger. The sooner the deal was done the sooner I could bring the girl back here and get her out of my hair. After that, I could get back to being my own man and if it was still there, take up the job with McKindrick.

‘She will be ok,’ the woman said lightly. ‘There is one good thing about my Granddaughter, she soon gets over things she won’t be upset for long.’

Unless the one upsetting her is me, I thought sardonically.

I was about to get up and leave when the woman spoke again.

‘Do you play chess Daniel?’ She asked

‘I have played Maam, but I am no great shakes at the game.’

‘Would you indulge me and make an old woman happy. I think I know where there might be another bottle of whiskey hidden if you’ve a mind.’

‘Maam,’ I said with a broad grin. ‘I will play chess for a while, but I don’t think the mood of your Granddaughter would be improved if she saw me forcing you to drink whiskey again.’

She laughed, then told me to follow her into the lounge. It was a neat room with comfortable chairs and a large sofa. Sally was sitting in one of the chairs with her legs curled under her. She looked up and glared at me as I entered the room. I nodded in her direction and she turned her head away.

‘Daniel has agreed to indulge me in a game of chess Sally,’ the woman said by way of explanation. ‘I will miss my nightly game with your Grandpa.’

‘What’s wrong with me?’ the girl snapped. ‘You liked playing chess with me as well, but I don’t count now Saint Daniel is here do I?’

‘Do you want to play me instead then?’ the woman asked mildly.

‘No I’m not in the mood.’

‘Then where is the problem? If you don’t want to play, Daniel is happy to step in and take your place.’

‘He seems to be taking my place in every way since he came here.’

‘That isn’t true Sally. I am trying to do the best for the ranch and whether you believe it or not, I am doing it with you in mind. When I die, the ranch will be yours and I want to make sure it is in a good financial position when you take it over.’

The girl looked at her Grandmother for a long time with tears in her eyes. Then she climbed to her feet and hugged the woman tightly. She was taller than her Grandmother so she needed to stoop to rest her head on the woman’s shoulder.

‘Oh Grandma,’ she sighed. ‘I know and I’m sorry I was so mean, but I’m just looking out for you the way you are looking out for me and I don’t see how you can trust a complete stranger the way you do.’

‘What you fail to see Sally,’ the woman said patiently. ‘Is that we have no option but to trust Daniel. Would you rather we hired somebody we don’t know to look after the money or somebody who has proved he is very trustworthy.’

I stood and watched in silence feeling a little embarrassed. Finally I spoke.

‘Maybe I should leave you alone with your Granddaughter Mrs Burnham, I don’t want to impose on your privacy.’

The woman looked at me over Sally’s shoulder.

‘Thank you Daniel. Maybe you should get some sleep and we will talk in the morning. The offer of a drink still stands if you would like a little something to help you sleep.’

‘It’s fine Maam. Another time maybe. I bid you goodnight and I will see you in the morning.’

She smiled sweetly but did not speak and neither did Sally as I left the room and exited the house through the kitchen.

The next morning we ate breakfast together in the kitchen and after we had eaten Ramiro went out to hitch up the wagon and get it ready for the journey to San Antonio.

‘When you get to San Antonio Daniel,’ the woman said. ‘Sally will introduce you to the Banker who will settle the business of the debt. Then I want you to give Sally sixteen thousand dollars to open an account in her name. After which, I want you to open an account for yourself with four thousands of what is left.’

Sally shot her a look of disbelief as did I.

‘I cannot take your money Mrs Burnham, it all belongs to you I have no right to any of it.’

‘He is right Grandma, why should you give him all that money,’ the girl put in.

‘Because I do not believe that everything he has told me about your Grandpa is true. He is hiding something to spare me the pain of finding out what your Grandpa was up to in Fort Worth.’

Sally gasped.

‘How can you think that Grandpa was up to anything Grandma? What are you saying?’

‘She is right Mrs Burnham,’ I said mildly. ‘He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

‘Don’t take me for a fool Daniel. My husband would never give his money to a saloon owner for safe keeping unless something happened to put the fear of god into him. He didn’t trust banks, so I am sure he wouldn’t trust a saloon owner. You said he won a lot of money gambling. My husband was the worst gambler in the world, he could not play poker worth a nickel. So if he was in a game with stakes that high, there is no doubt in my mind that the only way he would go was down. Yet you came here with an extra two thousand dollars he is supposed to have won at cards. That is absolute trash.’

‘I have to agree with Grandma, he was the worst poker player ever. Even if we tried to let him win when he used to play Grandma, Ramiro and me, he still lost. But that don’t mean he did anything wrong.’

‘I don’t believe he did anything wrong child,’ the woman answered. ‘But I do think he did something foolish and if Daniel does not tell us the truth of what happened in Fort Worth, I am going to write a letter to Mr McKindrick and find out the truth from him.’

‘Mrs Burnham,’ I said. ‘It would be easier on you if you just accept that your husband was a victim of bad luck. He was a fine man and even offered me a job, which I turned down I have to say.’

‘I cannot accept it, I need to know what he did and I cannot figure out why he would offer a job to a complete stranger unless it was out of gratitude. Now I would like to know what he was so grateful to you for.’

I looked at the girl and she raised her eyebrows in a questioning way. It would appear, that she, was also curious as to what her Grandpa had been up to in Fort Worth.

‘Alright Maam if you are so hell bent on knowing the truth, I will tell you but you aint gonna like it.’

‘I don’t believe I will like it Daniel, but I need to know, then I can put it to rest.’

‘Well Maam,’ I said hesitantly. ‘He had been set up in a crooked game of poker. There were four of them and they knew about his money. They were using a stacked deck and the dealer was giving your husband his hand from the bottom of the deck. The rest of the cards were stacked to fall in a way that gave two gamblers better hands than your husband’s full house, which would normally be a winning hand in stud poker. He thought he was on to winner and began matching every raise. He was about to lose everything when Mr McKindrick stepped in and stopped the game. ’

‘What was your role in it that caused the gratitude of my husband?’

‘I brought Mr McKindrick’s attention to what was happening, I suppose your husband thought I had helped in some way. But it is Mr McKindrick’s saloon and it was on his say so that the game was stopped and the three cheating players arrested.’

‘Three were arrested you say, yet you told me there were four gamblers besides my husband.’

‘Yes Maam, one pulled a gun and unfortunately, was shot and killed.’

‘Do you know who shot him Daniel?’

‘Yes I do Maam, but there is no need for you to know his identity, it would serve no useful purpose.’

She looked at me for long moments, then seemed to resign herself that what I had said was the truth.

‘Thank you Daniel, I am grateful to you that you have told me, although I suspect, there may have been more to it than what you say. However, what is plain to see, is that without your judgement and knowledge, not to mention sense of justice, we would now all be bankrupt and the ranch would be lost.’

She looked at the girl, who shrugged none committed and took a sip of her coffee.

‘ I believe the two thousand dollars that were on the table when he was spared from losing, rightfully belong to you Daniel and I am going to match it with another two thousand dollars because of what you have done for us as long as you deposit it in the bank at San Antonio. There is a reason for that request, which I will tell you about on your return.’

‘Mrs Burnham,’ I began.

‘I do not want to hear another word on the subject,’ she cut in. ‘You should have more than enough money left over to stock up on supplies. Sally knows what to buy, she has done it often enough with her Grandpa. We need to be able to stock up enough supplies to last us many months and get us through the winter. Oh and while you are about it Daniel, bring back a couple of bottles of whiskey, the good stuff not that cheap saloon, throat searing stuff that most cowhands drink.’

She glanced at the girl, who pulled a face.

‘Don’t look at me like that Sally, when you get to my age you need a little something to keep out the cold.’

We set out for San Antonio sitting on the wagon seat as far apart from each other as we could get. I decided that this was going to be one hell of a long journey sitting next to a girl who hated me and having to put up with her hateful remarks in order to do the right thing by her Grandmother. That was when she could be bothered to speak at all. I was going to have to put up with her sullenness and self-pity for around ten or eleven hours before we got to San Antonio and as if that wasn’t bad enough, we would have to do it all over again coming back the next day.

After about four hours, we came to a creek where I stopped and unhitched the horses from the wagon so that they could drink and be free for a while. Then I left them to graze while I sat down on the ground with my back resting against one of the wagon wheels. The girl had gone off into some bushes after she had drank water from the creek. I chewed jerky and sipped from my canteen while I gazed at the shimmering waters of the shallow but fast flowing stream.

The girl returned and stood in front of me looking down. I looked up at her and noticed how tall she was for a girl, just like Chameli. A fleeting image of her flashed through my mind and was instantly, gone.

‘There’s nothing to stop you from carrying on to Fort Worth after we get to San Antonio,’ she said suggestively. ‘You don’t really want to stay and I don’t want you here. My grandma doesn’t seem to realise what she is doing so it would do all of us a favour if you carried on riding.’

‘My horse is back at the ranch.’

‘I’m sure we should be able to get you a cheap horse in San Antonio and maybe I’ll even give you enough money to help you on your way.’

‘I’m sure you are only looking out for my interests Sal, and I am grateful that you think so much of me that you are willing to sacrifice your safety for my sake.’

‘I am asking you to go for my Grandma’s sake and don’t call me Sal.’

‘Ok Sal, but it is exactly for your Grandmother’s sake that I have to see that you get to town and back to the ranch safely.’

She glared at me with hate blazing in her eyes.

‘You are not doing anybody any favours,’ she yelled. ‘Except yourself. Why don’t you leave us alone and go back to where you came from?’

‘Because I like your Grandmother too much to leave her to the mercy of a spoilt, bad tempered little critter like you. Now go fetch the horses and let’s get them hitched up to the wagon.’

She stood with her mouth gaping open, glaring at me. I guess she could not believe I had the audacity to order her to do something. She had probably never been told what to do in her entire life.

‘You can’t tell me what to do,’ she gasped. ‘You are the hired help here and I am your boss.’

‘I wasn’t hired by anybody Sal, I am doing this as a favour to your Grandmother. Now you have two choices, you either, fetch those horses and bring them over here, or you will have to suffer the consequences.’

She lowered herself to the ground and sat with her legs crossed and her arms crossed over her chest with her lips pressed defiantly together in a gesture of stubbornness.

I climbed to my feet and looked down at her shaking my head. She looked up at me in return with defiance on her face, daring me to do something about it.

I hitched the horses up to the wagon while she sat on the ground watching me with a smug satisfied look on her face. When I had done, I went to the back of the wagon and picked up a rope that would, normally, be used for lashing down any supplies that might move on a journey over rough ground and get damaged in the process. It had a running noose at one end which I opened up. The girl had climbed to her feet and was brushing down her pants with her hands when I walked up behind her and dropped the noose over her head and shoulders before pulling it tight to pin her arms by her side. She yelped loudly and began to struggle.

‘What are you doing you crazy bastard?’ she screamed.

I kept the noose taught while I silently, walked around her wrapping more of the rope around her waist and chest before she had a chance to free her arms. Then I doubled the rope and wrapped it around her before putting the end through the bight and once more, pulling it tight.

She Struggled and yelled obscenities such as I would not normally, believe a girl as angelic looking as her would even know, except I had been on the receiving end of her smart mouth before. But I didn’t speak, instead I hauled on the rope, dragging her kicking and screaming towards the rear of the wagon. She suddenly, dropped to her butt on the ground and glared at me silently with a look once more, of defiance on her face. I turned around so that I was facing away from her and with the rope over my shoulder, I leaned forwards to take the strain and dug my feet into the dirt hauling her along behind me and dragging her over the ground on her butt. This caused her to start up again, with the cussing and screaming. She threatened me with everything from cutting off my balls and stuffing them down my throat, to coming after me with goddamned shot gun and blasting me to kingdom come.

I dragged her just a few feet until I was able to tie the end of the rope through an iron ring at the rear of the wagon. Then I turned to face her. She had fallen silent again but was looking at me with murder in her eyes.

‘You had better get to your feet girl,’ I said lightly. ‘Otherwise you are gonna have a sore butt by the time we make the next stop.’

‘You are a dead man mister,’ she screamed. ‘You can go the fuck to hell.’

I grinned at her.

‘Suit yourself,’

I climbed aboard the wagon and picked up the reins, before turning to look at her.

‘Last chance Sal,’

‘Fuck off and don’t call me that.’

I urged the horses gently forward and heard her scream as she was dragged along on her butt for a few feet before falling onto her back.

‘What are you doing?’ she screamed. ‘Are you crazy? I will be cut to ribbons.’

The horses had barely moved a couple of feet, but it was enough to cause her some bruising to both her ass and her dignity. I stopped the horses and jumped down, before approaching her. She glared up at me with her eyes bulging and her lips twisted in a snarl.

‘Lucky for you, you’ve seen sense,’ she yelled. ‘Now hurry up and set me free then I might be lenient with you.’

‘I don’t believe I will Sal, you have some distance to cover before I let you ride up here with me.’

I grabbed the rope and hauled her to her feet.

‘If you go down on your butt again,’ I growled. ‘You will have to suffer a damned sore ass, I don’t have time to keep stopping because of your tantrums.’

‘What?’ she squealed? ‘Stop being a damned fool, you’ve had your fun now take this goddamned rope off me.’

In answer, I returned to the seat of the wagon and urged the horses on, which had the effect of producing another stream of profanities and insults from behind the wagon. However, this time she stayed on her feet and walked along behind the wagon. After around a half a mile, she was still yelling and threatening, she really did have a good capacity for the use of her voice, not to mention her lungs. So I increased the gait of the horse to a faster walk, which meant the girl had to break into an awkward trot with her arms lashed to her sides. Her yelling finally ceased as she concentrated on staying on her feet. I watched her the whole time, constantly turning my head to be sure she didn’t get injured. She was mumbling and complaining to herself but she was ok. I decided to give her another few minutes of trotting behind the wagon, then I would set her free.

That was the plan anyhow. But the two riders that suddenly appeared after we rounded a bend in the trail, put paid to that.

I reined in the wagon and sat watching them as they approached. I had my rifle close at hand and my gun on my hip. But they were heavily armed and approached with confidence. I drew my revolver and rested it on my knee. Then I quickly looked round at the girl. She had collapsed to her knees and was breathing heavily, but she had seen the two men and was watching them intently as they got closer.

They reined in their horses on either side of the wagon which made it difficult for me to take them both out should the need arise. I eyed them and decided that the one on my right would be the more dangerous of the two. He wore a single pistol on his hip and I could see a shoulder holster under his coat. He looked easy and relaxed in contrast to his partner, who appeared to be full of nervous energy, his eyes were darting around and he was grinning maniacally. He wore guns for show rather than practicality. Two pearl handled pistols in holsters were slung low on his thighs and he was dressed in a fancy vest, shirt and pants tucked into ornate leather boots. He was younger than his partner in more ways than just looks. I figured he was immature and wouldn’t last long in this land unless he was as good a gunfighter as he was a dandy.

‘Howdy,’ said the older man.

I nodded, ‘good day.’

The younger one was looking at the girl.

‘Well lookee here Will,’ he said gleefully. ‘A pretty little filly and she already hogtied ready for the takin.’

The older man grinned.

‘Looks like you have yourself a dangerous prisoner there mister,’ he said sarcastically.

I grinned back.

‘You don’t know how true your words are,’ I replied.

‘She looks like she could kill a man eventually, but not with a gun,’ the younger man giggled.

‘Why have you got her tied up to the wagon?’ Will asked.

‘Well like you said,’ I replied. ‘She is a dangerous prisoner.’

‘That bastard kidnapped me and is going to hold me for ransom,’ the girl suddenly yelled.

‘Is that right mister?’ said Will.

‘In these hard times,’ I said amiably. ‘A man’s got to do what he can to get by. I lost my horse and saddle and everything I owned in a card game. Kidnapping her and her wagon was a last resort.’

‘Well I hope you aint spoilt her for me,’ cackled the younger man. ‘I don’t like used goods.’

‘Then you won’t want her,’ I said and heard the girl gasp in disgust.

‘I think we will take her off your hands anyway,’ said Will. ‘Climb down from the wagon mister and you can go on your way afoot.’

‘I cannot do that,’ I said. ‘I’m not good afoot, I prefer to ride.’

I figured my best chance would be to take out Will first. The younger guy was too excitable to be as big a threat as his older and calmer partner.

Will looked at me and smiled. He could see my gun was trained on him and just to drive home the fact that I was willing to shoot him, I cocked the hammer.

Will tried a different tack.

‘Go and untie the girl, Billy,’ he said mildly.

‘Stay where you are Billy,’ I countered.

‘What the fuck?’ Said Billy.

‘That poor girl needs tending to, let Billy untie her and give her some water.’

‘I would rather have Billy where I can see him if it’s all the same to you.’

I believed he could see by my calmness, that I was confident in my own ability. It was a standoff and he knew it. He shrugged his shoulders and began to turn his horse away when the girl’s uncontrollable mouth put us both back in danger.

‘I will pay you a thousand dollars if you set me free,’ she shrieked.

Will turned to look past me at the girl.

‘Have you got a thousand dollars little lady?’

‘Yes,’ she yelled triumphantly. ‘That bastard stole all my money that I was taking to bank in San Antonio. If you help me get it back, I will pay you a thousand dollars each.’

‘That’s a lot of money,’ said Will. ‘Exactly how much did he take from you?’

For Christ’s sake don’t tell, him I thought. You are gonna get us both killed.

‘He’s got more than thirty thousand dollars that belongs to me’ she yelled uncontrollably.

‘Goddamn.’ Growled Billy and went for his guns.

I shot will through the heart before he even realised what was happening and the horses pulling the wagon lurched forward throwing me backward just as Billy got off his shot which was fortunate because the bullet splintered the seat where I had been sitting. I knew Will was dead so all I needed to worry about was Billy. I got off a shot but it was hurried and the horses pulling the wagon became panicked and lurched forwards again dragging the weight of the girl behind the wagon. Billy spurred his horse towards the girl and began to slice through the rope holding her. I managed to get to my feet in the wagon and brought my gun up to get a bead on him. That’s when I was hit in the left shoulder by a rifle bullet fired from a stand of rocks over to the left of my position. I staggered and fell over the side of the wagon. Self-preservation made me roll and get to my knees quickly. I was on the opposite side of the wagon from the rifleman so he would find it difficult to get a good shot at me. My left arm felt numb but I had retained my grip on my pistol with my right hand. I cursed myself for not realising they would have placed a rifleman in a strategic position. It was a ploy we had used countless times during the war. They must have seen us coming up the trail earlier. I had been too preoccupied with chastising the girl to be aware and I cursed myself for my sloppiness. I looked to where the girl had been and saw that Billy had cut her free and was dragging her, stumbling awkwardly, behind his horse toward the rocks where the rifleman was. It was unlikely that I could hit him from where I was with a hand gun, at least, not without putting the girl in danger as she was in the line of fire. I was reasonably safe in my position close to the wagon, but they knew I was hit so I expected they would try to make a play for the money. Men would risk their lives for a lot less than thirty thousand dollars. Therefore, I was sure that they wouldn’t want to ride away without it. I sat down and rested my back against one of the wagon wheels. Then pulled my shirt away from my shoulder to reveal the wound. It was not as bad as I thought. The bullet had creased the fleshy part of my shoulder just above the arm leaving a groove that had been cauterized by the heat of the bullet. I looked around and noticed that will’s horse was standing still about fifteen yards away in line with the wagon, on the edge of some bushes.

‘Hey mister,’ came a shout from the rocks.

I didn’t answer, maybe if they thought I was dead they might come out and approach me, or at least one of them might. If they did, I was confident I could take them out.

‘Mister,’ he shouted again and I guessed it was Billy.

‘I’ll trade you the girl for the money.’

I still didn’t answer.

‘I know you is alive Mister,’ he yelled. ‘I seen you move. How bad you been shot? All you gotta do is give me the money and you and the girl can ride away.’

‘Why would I need the girl when I have the money?’ I yelled back. ‘You can have her, I can get as many women as I want with all this cash.’

‘You bastard,’ I heard the girl yell, then she squealed and I guessed she had been slapped.

‘I’ll give you one more chance mister,’ Billy yelled. ‘If you don’t trade, I’m gonna kill her. But not until me and my partner have had some fun with her.’

While he was talking, I had been crawling towards Will’s horse and was halfway there when another shot rang out and I heard a bullet hit the wagon behind me. I jumped to my feet and ran to the horse, grabbing the reins as I ran and led it into the shelter of the bushes just as another shot came from the rocks, the bullet striking the ground behind me. I mounted the horse and set off at a gallop.

After about a mile, I stopped to assess the situation. I still had the money so that was half the battle won. Whatever happened to the girl was her own fault. She only had herself to blame for the fix she was in and she very nearly got me killed to boot. I would be justified, I decided, if I kept on riding and kept the money for myself. I owed the girl nothing and whatever happened to her she had brought on herself with her smart mouth. That money could take me a long way and buy me some well-earned luxuries.

I knew I couldn’t ride away and abandon the girl. I owed it to her Grandmother to try to save her if nothing else. She was just a naive kid with a big mouth. But she didn’t deserve what was about to happen to her if I didn’t step in to help.

I urged the horse on to a long loping stride, circling the position where they had had me pinned down from in the rocks. I figured Billy wasn’t very bright and was hoping, that neither was his partner. It seemed pretty obvious to me, that Will had been the brains of the trio and he wasn’t about to do any more thinking on their behalf.

If I read it right, they would think I was more interested in the money and my own life than the girl and would figure that I would carry on riding. They wouldn’t expect me to come back. That is what I hoped at least, in which case, I would have the element of surprise on my side. Luckily for me, as I came close to where the rocks were, there was plenty of cover with bushes and small trees. I dismounted and led the horse into the bushes where I tied him up. Then removing Will’s rifle from the boot, which turned out to be a Winchester, I stealthily, approached the rocks. As I got closer, I came across two horses tied up to a tree and guessed they belonged to Billy and his partner. I discovered where the rifleman had lain and looked around, nobody was here, and then I heard a loud squeal from over where the wagon was. I inched forward and peered over the top of the rocks. What I saw made my blood boil. The two men had lashed the girl’s wrists together and tied her to the ring at the back of the wagon. Her face was bloody where they had, obviously, used violence on her. They were both assaulting her and ripping her clothing from her body. She was struggling violently, but was no match for them. I could hear their laughter and grunting sounds as they pawed at her. They stupidly, had expected me to keep riding and felt secure in their efforts. So confident were they that I would not return, that they had given up any semblance of alertness which made me marvel at how they, being gunmen and probably outlaws, had survived for so long.

I decided to take out Billy first. He was quick with his reactions and if I shot his sidekick first, Billy might just shield himself behind the girl before I could get a bead on him. I was hoping the shock of seeing Billy die might just immobilise the other man long enough for me to get off a second shot. I supposed I could do it the honourable way and give them a chance to drop their weapons and surrender, but that is the fool’s way and the best way to get killed.

I levelled the Winchester and sighted down the barrel, Billy was leaning over the girl and had his back to me, effectively shielding her. The other man was on his knees beside her but I could not tell what he was doing. I squeezed the trigger gently and felt the recoil as at the same time, the back of Billy’s head disintegrated. I immediately turned the gun on his partner just as he dived onto the ground and began crawling away. He found that very difficult because he had his pants around his ankles. I sighted the Winchester onto his bare ass as he tried to crawl under the wagon and squeezed off a shot. He screamed and writhed around on the ground with a bullet in his butt. I broke cover and walked quickly to where he lay screaming, his ass was a bloody mess. I pointed the rifle at his head and he stopped struggling and lay on his side with his knees pulled up and looking up at me with defiance on his face.

‘You bastard,’ he groaned. ‘You ass shot me.’

‘Yup,’ I said mildly. ‘Now I’m about to try for a head shot.’

‘Fuck you,’ he screamed

I kicked him in the butt and he screamed in agony.

‘What have you done to the girl?’ I growled.

‘What the fuck is it to you?’ he groaned.

I kicked him again which brought a fresh round of screaming from his lips.

‘Did you do anything to her?’

‘What do you mean?’ He gasped as his face twisted in pain.

‘Did you or Billy fuck her?’

I kicked him again just so he understood the question.

‘No, we didn’t get chance, some bastard took us both out with a rifle before we could get her pants down.’

‘Then why you got your pants down,’

‘Why do you think?’ he gasped. ‘She has got a pretty mouth.’

He grinned up at me and I wondered how many other young girls he had defiled. I placed the muzzle of the rifle against his forehead and squeezed the trigger turning my head away quickly to avoid the gore that flew from his exploding skull.

I walked back to the girl and looked down at her, she was half sitting, half lying on the ground with her arms stretched above her head by a rope that was tied to the ring at the back of the wagon. Her face was a mess and blood had run down onto her bare breasts. She looked up at me with terror in her eyes and was whimpering as her eyes kept darting back from me to Billy’s bloody skull.

‘See what you started with your smart mouth?’ I growled. ‘What? Did you think these men were going to save you from the big bad stranger who got your Grandmother’s trust and only wanted to help? You have a lot to learn girl and I hope this has been your first lesson on the way to you growing up.’

She began to cry and huge tears streaked her bloody face.

‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘Please don’t hurt me.’

I took out my knife and sliced through the rope binding her wrists. She immediately covered her breasts with her hands.

‘What makes you think I’m going to hurt you?’ I snapped as I replaced my knife in its sheath on my belt.

‘I thought you were going to hit me for causing you so much trouble,’ she whimpered.

‘I cannot say you wouldn’t deserve it. But I think you have already suffered enough.’

I went to Billy and removed his shirt then threw it, angrily, at the girl.

‘Put that on while I move these bodies.’

I dragged the bodies into the bushes then removed the saddles and bridles from the horses before setting them free. I put the saddles and bridles into the wagon, then threw all their weapons into the bushes, except the Winchester, which I had taken a liking to. Will had no further use for it anyway.

I took the canteen of water and a piece of cotton cloth that I tore from a sheet of the material that Mrs Burnham had put in our supplies for cleaning up purposes. Then I walked back to the girl who was sitting on the ground buttoning up the shirt. I knelt beside her and poured some water onto the cloth, before tilting her face up by lifting her chin with my fingers to gently, wipe away the blood from her face. Once I got her cleaned up, I could see that she wasn’t too badly damaged. Her lips were swollen and split and her nose had bled which was where most of the blood had come from. But she still had all her teeth. The rest would heal in time and leave her face just as pretty as it ever was. She began to cry again, which made me feel very uncomfortable.

‘It’s ok now,’ I said gently.

She suddenly threw her arms around my neck and buried her head into my shoulder sobbing uncontrollably.

‘I thought they were going to kill me,’ she sobbed.

‘Don’t think about it,’ I said softly.

My arms were hanging, awkwardly by my side. So I placed my hands on her back and held her to me to comfort her.

‘I thought you had abandoned me,’ she sniffled. ‘I thought you had ridden off to save your own skin and I would never see you again.’

‘I wouldn’t dare do that,’ I said sardonically. ‘I would never be able to face your Grandma again.’

She gave a small, sad laugh. Then pulled herself away from me.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I think I owe you my life.’

‘I looked her up and down and saw that her pants were torn and bloody where she had been dragged on the ground when the shooting had started. Her arms and elbows were also grazed and covered in blood.

‘We won’t make San Antonio before night fall,’ I said. ‘We have lost too much time. We’ll go as far as we can then we will have to make camp and make the rest of the journey tomorrow.’

‘Ok,’ she said resignedly.

She had become very subdued and I hoped the experience hadn’t knocked all of the sassiness out of her. She had been a pain in the ass at times. But at least she had self-confidence and it would be a pity if what had happened to her, had broken her spirit.

There were a couple of sacks of hay in the back of the wagon that we had put there in case we found no grazing for the horses. I placed them together to make a bed for her.

‘Get down on them and get some rest,’ I ordered gently.

‘Ok,’ she said simply.

She climbed in the back and lay down. When I saw she was settled, I climbed up onto the seat and shook the reins, slapping them on rumps of the horses.

As the sun was going down I began to look for a suitable place to stop. I turned to look at Sally, she appeared to be asleep. She was very still, apart from being shaken by the movement of the wagon. But, although her eyes were tightly closed, there was tension on her face and I wondered if she was asleep at all or was finding it difficult to fight off the memory of what had happened to her. For one so young to be brutally assaulted in the manner to which she had been subjected would have seriously traumatised anybody. Then to see her abuser killed right before her eyes could easily have sent her over the edge.

The sun had gone down and night was falling when we came across a shallow creek crossing the trail. I drove the wagon over to the other side, then followed it downstream until we came upon a stand of trees and bushes.

After unhitching the wagon, I watered the horses, then put them on a halters and lengths of rope so that they could graze freely. After taking care of the horses I gathered firewood and built a fire. We had an iron pot in the back of the wagon along with other utensils for camping and food. Sally was sitting up when I went to get the pot. I looked at her and smiled briefly.

‘You ok?’ I asked.

‘Yes, what can I do?’ she answered wearily.

‘I think the best thing you could do,’ I said gently. ‘Is to go along the creek aways and get yourself cleaned up, which should make you feel better at least.’

‘Ok.’

While she was gone, I fried bacon and beans and broke apart a loaf of homemade bread her Grandmother had put in with the supplies. I filled the pot with water and placed it on the side of the fire to heat up for coffee.

When the girl returned, I handed her a tin plate with hot food on it. She took it and sat down, but she didn’t eat. I finished my food and saw that she hadn’t even touched hers, she merely sat and stared blankly at her plate.

‘You must eat,’ I said gently.

‘Ok,’ she said quietly, but still, she didn’t attempt to eat any.

I went to sit beside her and gently took the plate from her hands. Then I took a piece of bread and soaked it in the beans before holding it to her swollen lips.

‘Just try some,’ I urged.

She lifted her head and turned her tear filled eyes to mine.

‘I can’t I will be sick,’ she sobbed. ‘I keep seeing that man’s head and all the gore when you shot him. I will never get the horror out of my mind.’

‘It will get easier,’ I assured her. ‘Can you at least try some coffee?’

‘Ok.’

I handed her a mug off steaming hot coffee and she sat with it in her hand staring into the flames, but making no attempt to drink it. I sipped my own coffee while I watched her, then when I decided hers had cooled down enough, I took it from her hands and placed it to her lips. It was hot but not hot enough to burn her mouth. I tilted the mug slightly, and she took a sip, then another before taking the mug back from me and drinking the warm liquid from it with more enthusiasm, until she had drained it.

‘Better?’ I asked.

She nodded.

‘Do you want to try some food now?’ I asked concerned.

‘Ok,’

She picked up the piece of bread from the plate and nibbled on it with little enthusiasm. We sat in silence for a while and I watched her as she occasionally, took a small bite from the bread and chewed it slowly while staring into the fire. Finally, she spoke.

‘I don’t know who you are,’ she said hoarsely.

‘What?’

‘You risked your life to come back and save me when you could have ridden away with all that money. You travelled all the way to Fort Worth and back again to help my Grandma and despite what I said to hurt you, you were good and kind and didn’t lose your temper with me. Yet, despite your obvious kindness and consideration, you killed those men so easily, as if it is something that just comes naturally to you. You shot them down in cold blood and didn’t give it a second thought. You have shown no remorse at all for what you did, they might just as well have been vermin you killed for all you care.’

‘They are vermin Maam. I know those men.’

‘You knew them?’

‘Not personally, but I know the type. I have met many men like them and believe me, when you get the upper hand, you do not weaken and give them a chance. They wouldn’t give you one.’

‘But, you could have, at least challenged them, you had them covered with your rifle. Did you have to shoot them down without a chance to surrender?’

‘No, I didn’t have to do that. I could have told them I was there and given them a chance to hold a gun to your head or a knife to your throat, then I would have had the dilemma of whether to risk your life or walk away. Either way you would probably have died, then they would have gone on to do to some other innocent girl, what they tried to do to you.’

The tears welled up in her eyes again and I guessed the thought of what could have happened to her was causing her great anxiety.

‘You are not who you seem,’ she said hoarsely. ‘I have never heard of or seen anybody that could kill another human as easily as you did. But although, I have always disapproved of men like you, I cannot judge you for what you did. Your methods may have been brutal and ruthless, but I believe you saved me and you have my undying gratitude for that.’

‘I guess I can live with that,’ I said evenly. ‘I would rather none of that had happened at all, but it did and now we must put it behind us and do what we set out to do.’

She looked at me for a few moments as though deciding what to say next.

‘Well you will be pleased to know,’ she said humourlessly, ‘I think I have finally grow up. What happened there has taught me a lot about people and made me realise that I shouldn’t be too hasty to judge folks.’

I grinned at her.

‘Well I hope you don’t lose all that sassiness cos despite what you might think, I thought it added to your charm.’

She giggled and it was like seeing the old Sally again.

‘I didn’t know I had any charm,’ she said with a smile, then winced and placed her fingers to her lip as the split opened up.

‘Your lip is bleeding again,’ I said lightly.

‘I hope it heals before we get back to the ranch,’ she said. ‘Or Grandma will think you have been beating me.’

‘Are you going to tell her what happened?’

‘No,’ she said softy. ‘I don’t think she needs to know. Why worry her unnecessarily?’

I couldn’t help thinking the old Sally would have told her Grandmother everything and milked it for all she was worth in order to gain her sympathy.

‘That’s a wise decision,’ I said. ‘What she don’t know can’t hurt her.’

‘No,’ she said humourlessly. ‘It could also, harm your reputation with her if she knew her hero was a gunman and a killer.’

I shot her a sharp look, but her face remained emotionless as she looked back at me and I guessed, she would never entirely approve of me.

Sally slept in the back of the wagon while I slept under it with my rifle by my side and my revolver close at hand.

The next morning we carried on the journey with Sally sitting up on the seat beside me. We made a couple of stops along the way, and arrived in San Antonio by late afternoon. After settling the business at the bank, we bought supplies and Sally bought new clothes to change into and then we left the wagon and horse in the care of the livery man at a large livery on the outskirts of town. After booking two rooms at a hotel, Sally showed me to a Mexican Cantina that, in her words, “serve deliciously spicy food.” I walked her back to the hotel, then I found a saloon and had a few drinks, I figured I deserved them after what had happened earlier. Remembering what Mrs Burnham had asked of me, I bought three bottles of their best whiskey before I left the saloon.

We left San Antonio at sunup and arrived back at the ranch after nearly a fifteen hour journey and a long time after the sun had gone down. It was dark when I stopped the wagon in front of the house. Mrs Burnham opened the door and hurried down the steps to hug her granddaughter while Ramiro and me, began unloading the supplies. After they had hugged for a long time, the woman held her daughter at arm’s length and looked at her with a big grin on her lips. Then it turned to a grimace as she noticed the marks on her granddaughter’s face.

‘What happened to your lovely face?’ She asked horrified. ‘He didn’t hit you did he?’

She indicated me as she spoke.

‘No Grandma, Daniel was a perfect gentleman. I got into a fight with a woman who was bad mouthing me. That’s why I had to throw my other clothes away, they got ripped. But if you think I look bad, you should have seen her.’

She caught my eye as she spoke and arched her eyebrows. I grinned at her, then turned quickly back to unloading the wagon as her grandmother turned my way.

‘So,’ said the woman pointedly. ‘It’s Daniel now is it?’

‘Well we decided to call a truce Grandma, no point in fighting each other all the time.’

‘I hope you didn’t call too much of a truce out there on the trail. I raised you to be better than that child.’

‘Grandma!’ squealed the girl. ‘How could you think that? We may have decided to stop being enemies, but we are not exactly close friends. Anyway, he will be leaving soon and going back to Fort Worth so you can put any thoughts of us becoming real friends, to one side.’

‘Well you must both be bushed,’ the woman said enthusiastically. ‘Come on, let’s go inside and get some food in you. Daniel, when you have finished, come in for supper, there is something I want to talk to you about, you too Ramiro’

The girl gave her grandma a strange look, then shot me a warning glance, before they both went inside.

After we had finished, Ramiro took the wagon away to unhitch it while I went to the bunkhouse to wash up.

Later, we all gathered in the kitchen and sat round the table to eat. After supper all four of us relaxed and sipped hot coffee. I suddenly felt at ease with those people as we sat in silence sipping at our coffee. I had bought some cigars in San Antonio and Ramiro and I smoked one each, adding to an easy atmosphere that gave me a really pleasant feeling.

After a while, the woman spoke.

‘Did everything go smoothly in San Antonio?’ she asked. ‘Apart from Sally’s loose tongue getting her into trouble again.’

‘Grandma, how can you say such a thing about me?’

‘You forget, I raised you young lady and I know you too well.’

Sally giggled, but it was without any real mirth. I figured the events of what had happened on the trail were ever present in her mind and simmering under the surface.

‘Anyway Daniel,’ the woman said. ‘I have a proposition for you.’

‘I was thinking of heading out in the morning,’ I said bemused. ‘So I don’t think I can be of much use to whatever it is you propose.’

‘Well hear me out anyway.’

I looked at the girl and she shrugged her shoulders.

‘Ok,’ I said. ‘I’m in no hurry to go to bed so have your say Mrs Burnham.’

‘Did you deposit the four thousand dollars in your own name like I asked you to Daniel?’

‘Yes I did Maam, but very reluctantly. It is one hell of a lot of money to give a man just for being honest.’

‘I have to defend him Grandma,’ the girl said. ‘He wanted to leave that money to be deposited with your own money, but I insisted that he opened an account and deposited the whole four thousand in it.’

The woman looked at her granddaughter with a look of shock on her face.

‘You’ve changed your opinion Sally,’ she gasped. ‘Why the sudden change of heart?’

‘I learned while we travelled together, that he is a more honourable man than I gave him credit for.’

‘Well I am pleased that you are finally seeing who he really is through the mists of your prejudices Sally.’

Sally gave me a look that said, ‘I wonder if she would be so happy about you if she knew what you really were?’

Mrs Burnham looked directly at me as though studying me for flaws.

‘I want you to become a partner in the Ranch, Daniel,’ she said expansively.

I heard Sally gasp, but when I looked at her, she merely shrugged.

‘Are you serious maam?’ I asked, surprised.

‘I have never been more serious Daniel. I want you to use that four thousand dollars you deposited in the bank and invest it in steers. Then with the steers we buy, I want you to drive a herd up the Chisholm Trail to Wichita and get a good price for them. You could treble your investment and make a damn good living here. Between us we could build this ranch into a large and profitable concern.’

‘I appreciate the offer Mrs Burnham, but I know nothing about ranching and even less about herding cattle.’

‘A man of your ability would pick it up in no time with Ramiro and Sally to teach you. With my dear husband gone, we will need a man we can trust to take over and after what you have done for us, I could not think of anyone better, except maybe Ramiro. But his age is against him.’

She looked at the old Mexican.

‘I’m sorry Ramiro,’ she said sadly.

Ramiro waved an arm dismissively.

‘I understand Señora,’ he sighed. ‘Age is not on my side and I cannot ride for more than a couple of hours, so what use would I be? I am happy that you keep me on to do what I can around the place.’

‘We would be nothing without you Ramiro,’ she said. ‘You will always have a place here with us.’

Sally reached over and squeezed his hand, then smiled brightly at him.

‘You have taught me all I know Ramiro and I will always be grateful to you. Anyway, without you the place would fall down.’

‘So what do you say Daniel?’ The woman insisted.

‘I’m not sure I would fit in,’ I said looking pointedly at Sally.

‘Don’t use me as a reason to shirk responsibility,’ she exclaimed. ‘I will be happy to have you here if you want to take up Grandma’s offer.’

I was shocked at her acceptance of me and it must have shown on my face.

‘Well,’ she continued. ‘Like Grandma says, we need somebody we can trust and you have proved that we can trust you.’

Then she added, barely audibly so that her Grandma didn’t hear. ‘In more ways than one.’

I looked at her and tried to figure out if she was being truthful or just humouring her Grandmother. Then she favoured me with a bright smile and I figured, she had, finally accepted me.

‘Ok then Mrs Burnham,’ I said gruffly. ‘I hope I do not give you cause to regret putting your trust in me.’

‘I know I won’t,’ she said brightly. ‘Welcome to our little family Daniel.’

Ramiro reached over and took my hand, shaking it warmly in his firm grip.

‘Welcome Señor, I am pleased that you have joined us.’

‘Thank you Ramiro, I hope I can learn the cattle business from you and not be a disappointment.’

Ramiro grinned.

‘You will be fine,’ he said brightly.

Sally suddenly surprised me by getting to her feet and coming up behind my chair to wrap her arms around me and kiss my cheek.

‘Welcome Daniel,’ she said huskily. ‘I hope we can start over and become friends.’

‘Thank you,’ I replied with more than a little surprise in my voice.

Ramiro and I retired to the bunkhouse where we smoked another cigar each and Ramiro filled me in on the ranching business and what I could expect. At the moment, there were just a few cows with calves but over the coming years we would be trying to build up the herd to over two thousand head.

TWENTY-ONE

During the following three years, I worked harder than I had ever worked in my entire life and I came to admire just how difficult life can be for cattle drovers and why they go wild when they get to a town with saloons and dancehalls. They need to let off steam after the hard work of roping, branding, herding steers and eating dust for more than ten hours a day.

As we built up the herd, we needed to hire experienced cattlemen to care for them. One of the first cowboys we hired was a likeable young man who went by the name of Joseph Reynolds and it wasn’t too long before I noticed the long lingering looks that passed between Sally and him. I was around eleven or twelve years her senior and I had come to look on her as my responsibility like a big brother would over his kid sister, or a father with his daughter. So it was, that I kept a close eye on them, Joseph in particular until I made sure he was a suitable beau for her. I don’t know why I had become so over protective of her, maybe it was because I felt an infinity towards her after what had happened on the trail, but I seemed to have become a substitute father to her and until they met with my approval, nobody would be good enough. I don’t think that it had gone unnoticed by Sally and I think she found it both amusing and thrilling that I was watching over her, being both father and brother and acting like a mother hen sometimes. Lise would not have been much older than Sally by then, so maybe that could have been part of the reason we had become so close. It wasn’t one sided either, she came to me with her problems no matter how trivial and we talked together for hours sometimes about completely, trivial matters. I knew ways to make her both happy and angry in equal measures teasing her unmercifully sometimes. But I could tell that she had grown as fond of me as I had of her. So it was, that I kept a close eye on her blossoming romance with Joseph Reynolds.

After three years we had built up a herd of nearly two thousand seven hundred head of cattle. All of them prime beef and mostly two year olds. As long as we didn’t drive them too hard, they were expected to fetch top price. We were now ready to undertake the long journey up the Chisholm Trail before branching off to go up the newer western trail to Dodge City Kansas. We were planning to drive a huge herd that would test even the most experienced drover to the limit. Luckily, we had managed to hire some of the hardest working and experienced cowboys available. Some of them though, were the roughest, most hard bitten and cantankerous fellows it had ever been my misfortune to meet. I feared there would be more than one fight during the nearly three months we would be on the trail. However, Ramiro had assured me it was the best way for them to let off steam after spending hours on horseback herding cattle.

Sally and Joe Reynolds had become almost inseparable and a romance was on the cards, with my blessing of course. I liked him, he was a pleasant young man and honest as the day was long. Also a very good worker so it was no surprise that I gave him the responsibility of becoming trail boss. Sally announced that she was going to come on the cattle drive too, I guessed it was because she didn’t want to be separated from Joe for so long. I soon put that idea out of her head, even though she said she would miss me as much as she would miss Joseph. I told her in no uncertain terms, that she was not coming with us. She reluctantly accepted my decision as always, but wouldn’t speak to me right up until the time we set off. Then she came to me and threw her arms around my neck to hug me for all she was worth. Looking back, it was as though she had had some kind of premonition that she would never see me again. I looked into her blue eyes and pretty smiling face as I held her by her shoulders at arm’s length. I wanted get a lasting picture of her in my mind so that I could see her before I went to sleep each night. She had become almost, as close to me as Lise ever had and if I had known then, that that was to be the last time I ever saw her, I might never have left.

‘Look after your Grandma,’ I said smiling.

The old lady had weakened with age and her joints had become stiff, so she couldn’t get about as well as she used to.

‘I will,’ Sally said sadly.

She had tears in her eyes and it was getting to me. I kissed her on her forehead, then mounted my horse.

‘Be back before you know it,’ I said gruffly. Then wheeled the horse and rode after the herd that had already set off around thirty minutes earlier. Joseph lingered to say his goodbyes and I called over my shoulder to him not to take too long as I rode away.

It was something new to be driving a herd of cattle that was strung out for miles across the prairie. Always having to be alert for maverick steers and strays wandering off away from the main herd. There were also calves that needed to be treated like what they were, babies. They would need to travel over six hundred miles across many parts that lacked suitable grazing and even worse, water.

For nearly two months we travelled, it was thankless, tiring work riding for long hours keeping the herd moving at a steady pace. Galloping around the flanks of the herd on fast quarter horses that were capable of turning on a dime and pulling in strays that were wandering away from the main herd. We lost horses with broken legs, and stray cattle to Indians that were ever present waiting to pounce on the weaker cows to butcher them for meat. We travelled around ten miles a day, sometimes having to move the herd in a different direction when one of the hands we sent on a scouting mission found water. Finding enough water for a herd that size was the hardest part, sometimes we would go for days without any and the cattle would become weak and exhausted, but we always managed to find suitable watering places just in time. For that, I was grateful to one old hand who had made that journey quite a few times and had a knack of finding the best watering places as well as good grazing. That was because the trail wasn’t a narrow road. It could be as wide as a hundred miles or as narrow as five, so that knowing the trail well had its advantages.

When we were around eighty miles or so south of Dodge City, a cattleman called Emery Mullhurst came into camp with his foreman and another hand. They were on their way back to Texas having driven a herd up the trail from San Antonio.

‘I was going to sell my herd in Dodge,’ he told me. ‘But although they have a railhead there, they are filling the cars with mainly buffalo pelts, you would be better doing as I did and carry on up to Ogallala. There is more demand for cattle there and they cannot get enough to ship to Chicago, Also the Indian agencies are paying top prices for beef. I could have gotten between twenty two and twenty five dollars a head in Dodge maybe. But I decided to go the extra two hundred and fifty miles to Ogallala where I sold my cows for thirty five dollars a head.’

I pondered on what he had said. It would take another three weeks or more to get to Ogallala, which meant extra wages for the hands and extra supplies, but the profit, even taking that into account would be far greater. I decided to give Dodge a miss and go on to Ogallala Nebraska. Most of the hands had been hell bent on getting paid off in Dodge and spending their wages in the saloons, dancehalls and brothels that were a feature of that town. I would have to pay off the ones who wanted to stay and hire more hands in Dodge City.

Twelve men decided that they wanted to be paid off and three others, Joseph Reynolds, the cook and the old cowman, said they would stay and make the journey. They were the ones I most expected to stay. The others were good cattlemen but they were mainly, drifters who went from job to job and spent as hard as they worked. However, I could not blame them, it was a tough job and they deserved to be able to let off steam. I left word that I would pay them off when I got back with more men from Dodge. I did not think I would have any problem hiring hands. There would be many cowboys who would have spent all their wages having been paid off by other ranchers who had made the journey from Texas. I told Joe Reynolds to keep the herd coming and I would meet them on my way back. I cut out a fresh horse and set off alone for Dodge City.

Dodge City was teeming with life. Freight wagons were lined up at the rail head waiting to unload onto the cars, their cargo being mainly, buffalo hides, but there was also meat and bones. There were cattle pens full of steers waiting to be shipped to Chicago and empty freight wagons waited to load supplies coming the other way ready to ship them to other towns as well as for Dodge City itself.

South of the railroad tracks was where most of the saloons, dancehalls and brothels were. While north of the tracks, was a more respectable area. The south side was crowded with buffalo hunters, teamsters, drifters, gamblers, cowhands, prostitutes, and dancehall girls as well as drunks and down and outs.

I let it be known in many of the saloons and eateries as well as hotels that I was hiring and would be available at the Long Branch saloon the next morning. I stayed overnight in a hotel and the next morning, when the Long Branch wasn’t busy, I sat at a table with a pot of hot coffee and a mug and waited. It was midday, when I got my first enquiry, which was from a young cowboy who had just heard from a saloon owner along the street that I was hiring. I got another mug from the bar and poured him a coffee, he looked as though he needed it. He explained that he had spent all his money and was about to sell his horse when he heard about my job offer. He told me he knew other cowhands who would be glad of a job, some of them were labouring down at the stock yards or the rail head. Eventually, I managed to get together a bunch of men who seemed, on the surface at least, to know the cattle business. I was two short of the twelve who were quitting but I thought we could get by if we worked extra hard. Most of them still had their own horses, but a couple of them would have to ride double until they met up with our herd. Luckily, we had a large remuda of horses with the herd, so horseless cowboys would not be a problem.

I stayed on to purchase two pack mules and buy extra supplies for the journey to Ogallala. I figured it would be a good investment for the extra profit we would make on the cows. I paid for the supplies and left the mules with the store owner while I went to a very popular eatery on the north side of the tracks. I intended to have at least one decent meal before getting back to chuck wagon food. I went inside the restaurant to find that it was very busy at that time not long after noon. Every table was occupied with several diners sitting around each one. However, there was one table on the other side of the room that was occupied by just two people, a man and a woman and I noticed that as I was deciding what to do the man, an elderly, well dressed gentleman with grey hair and a grey goatee beard, got up to leave. He bent to kiss the woman who had her back to me and left, walking by me to go out of the door. The smell of hot food was overpowering and I decided be bold and ask permission of the woman to join her at the table, I guessed she would shortly be leaving anyway to join her husband.

I removed my hat and went to stand close by the woman’s chair. She looked like a very fine lady and was wearing the latest in fashionable clothing made of the very best material. Her dark hair was piled high on her head and she wore a small elegant hat on top of it. By the side of her chair, was a silk parasol.

‘Excuse me Maam,’ I said as politely as I knew how. ‘Would it be imprudent of me to ask that I may join you? I would not normally request this of such a fine lady as yourself, but all the other tables are fully occupied.’

She turned her head slowly to look up and I found myself gazing into the big, beautiful, dark eyes of Chameli Gonzales.

I gasped in total surprise and nearly tottered backwards, as her radiant smile lit up her beautiful face. She had not changed one bit.

‘Hello Andrew,’ she said without a hint of surprise in her voice. ‘Close your mouth amigo, it is very rude to stand with a gaping mouth where food is.’

She giggled at what she had said, then indicated the chair opposite and bade me sit down. I pulled out the chair, never taking my eyes off her and fell heavily onto the seat. Then stared at her like some adoring school boy who had just found himself in the company of the President of the United States of America.

‘You look like shit,’ was the first thing she whispered after I sat down.

I slicked my hair down with the flat of my hand. She could insult me all she wanted, I was just happy to hear the wonderful throaty and husky sound that left her lips. I had dreamed constantly of her barbed tongue and constant insults. I also knew they were just bravado, designed to cover any weaknesses she might show and to say, she would not suffer fools.

‘Thank you,’ was all I could think of to say by way of retaliation. ‘You look incredible.’

She laughed lightly and treated me to a flash of her perfect white teeth.

‘Yes I do?’ She said gaily. ‘I knew we would meet sooner or later, you and I are destined to always cross paths Andrew.’

I could not take my eyes off her for if it were at all possible, she was even more beautiful than I had remembered.

‘Don’t stare Andrew,’ she chided. ‘It isn’t becoming of a grown man. Are you here to eat or make cow eyes at a beautiful lady?’

‘Sorry,’ I gulped, feeling like a small boy who had been scolded by his mother.

I caught the eye of a young woman who was waiting on the tables so that I might order my meal and a beer. I asked Chameli if she wanted a drink and she declined announcing that she would be leaving shortly. However, she remained seated and watched me without making it obvious that she was staring.

‘Well,’ she suddenly said. ‘You did it again didn’t you? You managed to abandon me at the worst possible time Andrew.’

I knew she would blame me, but was pleased for the chance to get it out into the open.

‘I had no choice,’ I stammered.

She had such a knack of unnerving me.

‘Of course you had a choice, but you preferred to run like a scared rabbit. If you had stayed around, you would have found out that the man you shot was already wanted for murder and all the witnesses testified in your defence, that he made you fight and he drew first.’

I looked into her dark eyes and saw she was telling the truth.

‘I couldn’t take that chance,’ I said quietly.

‘So you just abandoned your wife and daughter and ran like the damned coward you are.’

She was talking quietly, but there was fire in her voice and a little menace.

‘You are not my wife and I don’t have a daughter.’

‘No,’ she seethed in low tones, pulling her lips back to show her barred teeth. ‘But we could have been, we were still your responsibility, yet you were happy to save your own skin and leave us to the wolves.’

‘What wolves?’ You had money and a hotel room. All you needed to do, was find somebody to take the girl and follow me. I waited for you.’

‘I asked about you in Jacksboro and was told you stuck around just long enough to buy supplies and then you went on your way. I wouldn’t call that waiting for me.’

Once more she had me down and feeling guilty.

‘I couldn’t stay for long I didn’t know if anybody was pursuing me,’

‘There was somebody pursuing you, me and Emily, the two people who needed you most.’

I regarded her with surprise.

‘Emily?’

‘Unlike you, I could not abandon her and leave her with a stranger who might ill-treat her. So I kept her with me and we both set out to find you.’

‘You must be more of a fool than I am then, to take on a child and try to care for her alone. What about your plans?’

‘You already ruined my plans by deserting me, but I am not like you, I care about folks who cannot care for themselves.’

‘Is Emily her real name or one you gave her?’

‘I brought her out of her shell and she told me her name and what had happened. Now she looks upon me as her mother.’

I nearly choked.

‘You a mother?’ I said incredulously. ‘The amount of trouble you get yourself into, what chance do you have of raising a child? What chance does a child have for that matter, with you as a mother?’

She eyed me steadily before speaking.

‘Look at me Andrew, what do you see?’

I gazed at her in all her finery. She looked every bit the lady and I couldn’t help but admire her for the way she looked. But then, I had always admired the way she looked no matter what she wore, even though, or maybe because, there had been times when she had worn very little at all.

‘I see Chameli Gonzales dressed up to look like a lady,’ I said wryly. ‘But I know Chameli Gonzales, I have heard her cuss, and seen her fight and she is no lady.’

She pulled back her lips to show her perfect teeth, but she wasn’t smiling.

‘For now,’ she said quietly. ‘Chameli Gonzales does not exist. I am now, Maria Perez-Hanson. The widow of a very rich rancher called Andrew Hanson, who died trying to defend me and my daughter Emily from highwaymen during a stagecoach trip from San Antonio to Houston, Texas.’

I stared at her aghast.

‘You took my name?’ I gasped. ‘Then pretended to be my widow when I am not even dead?’

‘You were dead to me and after what you did to me I deserved to take your name. I had to find some way of getting by.’

‘How can taking my name help?’

‘Folks think I am a rich widow and with my beauty and charm, it wasn’t long before I had some very influential men sniffing round me. One of them just left, we had lunch together. He is very rich and has asked me to marry him.’

‘You can’t marry him,’ I exclaimed just as the waitress brought my food to the table.

Many of the other diners were looking at us after hearing my louder than necessary protest.

‘Shush,’ she said. ‘Keep your voice down, I don’t want to be seen arguing with a common drifter.’

She looked round and smiled sweetly at some of the other diners who were still furtively looking over.

‘I’m no more a common drifter than you are a lady,’ I growled.

‘Maybe, maybe not, but you haven’t got the right to tell me who I can and cannot marry.’

‘He is an old man,’ I hissed.

‘Yes he is and he is also very rich. Weighing one against the other, I will take rich every time.’

‘So it’s all about money, you would give yourself to an old man just so that you can be rich.’

‘That’s about the size of it Hombre, I have responsibility now and any kind of security, is better than no security.’

‘Well it’s your life,’ I said. ‘It is no longer any business of mine.’

It was true, I loved her still, I knew that the moment I set eyes on her again. But I wouldn’t have been prepared to take on her and a child, even if my love for her had been reciprocated. At least my mind would rest easy knowing she was safe and secure.

‘Damn right it’s my life,’ she sneered. ‘It’s a better option than getting stuck with a nobody, like you.’

‘I am not a, nobody, I saved your life twice that makes me a, somebody.’

‘My god Andrew,’ is that all you have got to make you feel important. I cannot be in your debt forever, especially as I saved your life also, as I recall.’

I stared glumly at my food, as yet, I hadn’t touched it. I appeared to have lost my appetite.

Her uncanny knack of knowing exactly what I was thinking came to the fore.

‘Have you lost your appetite Andrew? If you don’t eat your food, it will go cold.’

‘Anyway,’ I blurted. ‘I am somebody now, I have a stake in a thriving ranch and we are making a good living out of it. I am on my way to Ogallala to sell our cattle.’

‘Oh?’ she said surprised. ‘So you have made something of your life.’

‘Yes I came up from Texas with nearly three thousand head of cattle to sell.’

‘That’s a lot of cows, why don’t you sell them here in Dodge?’

‘Because I can get up to ten dollars a head more in Ogallala.’

‘That’s a lot of money Andrew, you should have told me this straight away.’

‘What difference does it make?’

‘It makes all the difference in the world.’

‘I don’t see how.’

‘You are so easy to read Andrew. I know you want me and you always have.’

She smiled at me and I got the feeling she was eyeing up me as prey.

‘You’ve talked me into,’ it she enthused. ‘I have decided to forgive you for what you did to me and come with you. I think you deserve to have me along after all the time you must have spent longing for me. It must have been hell for you not having me to care for you.’

I couldn’t believe it. She had effectively railroaded me. I couldn’t help thinking she had set a trap and I had blundered right into it like a blind rabbit.

‘What do you mean?’ I stammered.

‘I’m going to give you what you have waited all your life for Andrew; me. You were right, I couldn’t marry an old man. I think you are the better option, although it is pretty close decision.’

‘I don’t understand,’ I gasped. ‘I didn’t ask you to come with me.’

‘Of course you didn’t, you are too slow for that. But I know that you want me to. So I am saving you from having to ask me. Rejoice Andrew, I choose you.’

‘Whoa, wait,’ I exclaimed. ‘I can’t take on you and a child, it wouldn’t work. We have two hundred and fifty miles or more to go to Ogallala, That’s about twenty five days on the trail, that isn’t a journey for most women to undertake let alone a little girl.’

‘You can’t back out of a promise Andrew. I have already agreed to come with you. You cannot just change your mind anytime you feel like it. Anyway, she isn’t such a little girl now.’

‘What promise?’ I gasped. ‘I haven’t promised anything. Anyway, what about that guy you were supposed to marry?’

‘Oh, he didn’t really expect me to say yes. He wanted me to come to an arrangement, whereby he would take care of us in return for companionship. He will be disappointed, but his loss is your gain.’

‘I don’t know,’ I began, but she cut me off.

‘It’s settled then. I will stay here with you while you eat your meal, then you can come with me to get Emily and our belongings. We have horses, but we will need a pack mule unless you have a wagon or a buckboard.’

I ate my meal with mixed feelings while she watched with a broad smile on her lovely face. There was no doubt at all that I was thrilled to see her again and I wanted her more than anything in the world. But I knew in my mind that she was nothing but trouble and I was heading for a whole lot of grief if I let her come.

‘Who would have thought it?’ She enthused, cutting through my reverie. ‘You and I back together again just like old times. I always knew you would find me eventually Andrew, it was just a matter of time. I have been waiting for you patiently, so it was no real surprise when you turned up here.’

‘I don’t have a stake in the ranch.’ I said suddenly. ‘Just the cows.’

‘Ok,’ she said slowly. ‘But that’s good because you are going to make a lot of money.’

‘Of the two thousand seven hundred head of cattle, I own just five hundred of them.’

‘Oh,’ she said sounding a little disappointed. ‘Well, if you sell them for thirty dollars a head, it will give you.....’

‘Fifteen thousand dollars,’ I cut in.

‘What about the rest of the cows?’ she asked. ‘How much will they make?’

‘If we get thirty dollars a head, sixty six thousand dollars,’ I answered. Then growled. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘What?’ She asked with mock surprise.

‘That money belongs to my partners and I am going to make sure they get every cent.’

‘Of course you are Andrew. We will talk about that after we have sold the cows.’

The fact that she said, “we.” Had not gone unnoticed.

‘I mean it Chameli, they have been very good to me. I owe them a lot and I don’t intend to rob them and leave them with nothing.’

She shrugged.

‘Never mind that now, the way you are playing with your food, I think you are done with it. Leave some money and let’s go and get ready to leave.’

I had not agreed to anything she had said, yet I meekly, followed her out of that restaurant like a lamb following a wolf in sheep’s clothing and I had the distinct feeling that I was about to be devoured, unable to do a damned thing about it.

She was staying at one of the best hotels in Dodge City, It was one of the few brick buildings on the north side and was very plush inside. I waited in the foyer wondering what I had let myself in for and trembling inside at the thought that I was, at last, reunited with Chameli once more.

When I saw her come down the magnificent staircase with Emily, she looked exactly the same as I had always pictured her. She was wearing buckskin pants and a jacket of the same material over a white blouse. On her feet she wore moccasins, which were like small soft skin boots that covered her ankles. Emily was dressed almost identical and although she was no longer the small waiflike child I remembered, her features hadn’t changed much. She had grown in the six years since I had last seen her and had filled out considerably from the thin child I remembered.

I got quickly to my feet as they approached me and stood nervously twisting my hat between my fingers. They were carrying a large bag each, filled with, I guessed, their belongings.

‘Now do you remember him?’ Chameli asked the girl as they approached.

Emily scrutinised me, then shrugged her shoulders.

‘I remember the man we were with abandoning us, but I can’t remember what he looked like. If this is him, maybe it was a good thing that he did desert us.’

‘Emily,’ cried Chameli. ‘That is no way to talk about Andrew after he came back to find us.’

‘I don’t want to see you upset again Cha. How can you be sure he won’t walk out on you again?’

‘I can’t, but I do know that something always pulls us back together no matter how long it takes and he needs me to care of him.’

‘Well he looks like trouble to me and he aint much to look at neither. We would be better off on our own.’

Chameli giggled and I was disturbed at the way they were discussing me as though I were a stray animal to which, they were deciding whether or not to take in and care for.

‘She’s got your manners,’ I said sardonically. ‘I suppose after six years together your charming personality was bound to rub off on her.’

‘I hope so,’ Chameli said gaily. ‘With my personality and charm she will go far. She is pretty too, just like me.’

There was no arguing that the girl was pretty, but her features were nothing like Chameli’s. She was fair with blue eyes and blond hair which was almost bleached white by, I supposed, time spent in the sun as her face was tanned a golden brown colour and she wasn’t, as yet, as tall. Whereas, Chameli was dark with black hair and very dark eyes that belied their colour until one looked close enough to see that they were dark brown. However, standing before me, dressed as they were with their contrasting hair colour and features, they looked stunning together.

After collecting their horses and my pack mules and horse, we set off south to meet up with the herd. The two girls chatted constantly completely ignoring me and I couldn’t help the pang of jealousy I felt that the young girl was still receiving Chameli’s undivided attention just as all those years ago when the Indian brought her to us. However, I was quietly delighted that every time I looked, Chameli was looking at me intently, studying me even and I hoped that she approved of what she saw.

It was early evening when we came across the herd. I introduced Chameli to Reynolds as an old friend who would be travelling the rest of the way to Ogallala with us. He seemed a little displeased at this, probably because I was allowing a young thirteen year old girl to make the long and perilous journey, yet had refused the love of his life, Sally, to come with us. I didn’t bother to point out that this was just the last leg of the journey.

I paid off the hands who wanted to spend their wages in Dodge City and they rode away whooping and hollering, urgently hastening to get to that sinful city where they could spend all their money on drink, gambling and whores. After probably, two days of drunken debauchery, they would all be broke and looking for another outfit to sign up to so that they could do it over again.

I already knew what an excellent horsewoman Chameli was. But I was surprised at how well she had taught the girl to ride. Even more surprising was the way they were both willing to pull their weight, riding flank or drag for long hours and rounding up strays and pulling them back into the main herd with little effort. Of course, they had exchanged their thoroughbreds for quarter horses for the purpose, but even Reynolds was impressed by their ability.

‘If we had a bunch of cowhands half as good as your friends,’ he once told me. ‘Life on the range would be a lot easier.’

For some reason, his remark made me feel proud of them and I felt like puffing out my chest and announcing loudly that they were my girls. I wondered if Chameli would ever be my girl and why she attached herself to me so willingly if she didn’t really want me. Maybe it was her sadistic side coming through. Perhaps she kept me close because she enjoyed tormenting me.

We made Ogallala in good time and herded the cows to the stock pens. Buyers were already lining up to bid and I finished up getting thirty three dollars a head, three dollars more than I had dared to hope for. After taking out the money to pay off the hands, I banked more than seventy thousand dollars on behalf of Mrs Burnham and Sally. On top of that I added four thousand dollars that Mrs Burnham had originally staked me, leaving me with a clear profit of twelve thousand five hundred dollars.

Chameli and the girl had gone to book rooms and I joined them at the hotel. I was disappointed that she had booked a room for her and Emily and another for me and Reynolds. She seemed to be making it clear that we were simply partners and companions, nothing more.

All four of us dined together, then Reynolds excused himself, saying he wanted to make an early start in the morning to head back down to Texas. I couldn’t blame him, he wanted to get back to Sally as soon as possible. It would likely take over two weeks anyway, to get back to the ranch. We had decided that he would take the chuck wagon and four of the horses we had left after selling the others to the horseless cowboys who I had hired. I told him I was going to stay on in town for a couple of days and would see him back at the ranch presently. I kept the two mules with me to carry supplies on my journey back. That was, If I made the journey back. I hadn’t decided yet. Chameli coming back into my life had turned it upside down and I was confused about what I would do.

We talked and sipped coffee, Emily drank tea while I smoked a cigar I had treated myself to from my profits.

‘So you must be a rich man now Andrew,’ Chameli suddenly said.

‘I wouldn’t go that far but I made a good profit.’

‘Oh, and how much is a good profit?’

‘Over twelve thousand dollars,’ I said proudly.

She stared at me aghast.

‘Is that all you got for two thousand head of cattle?’ she hissed.

‘No, the final figure was nearly eighty nine thousand but twelve thousand five hundred of that belongs to me. I banked the rest, after paying off the hands, for the rancher who owned the majority of the cows.’

‘What?’ She exclaimed. ‘I thought we were going to talk about that.’

‘That is exactly why I banked it straight away. That way your persuasive tongue can’t seduce me into keeping money that don’t belong to me.’

She sighed heavily.

‘You are too honest for your own good Andrew. Nobody would do the same for you.’

Emily laughed and continued watching us with interest.

‘Then you shouldn’t judge everybody by your standards,’ I reposted. ‘That lady took me in and staked me four thousand dollars so that I could make a profit on my own cows. That’s why I banked the extra four thousand on top of what her cows made.’

‘This gets better,’ she sneered. ‘So all we have to live on is twelve thousand dollars.’

‘I have twelve thousand five hundred to invest in more cows,’ I said enthusiastically. ‘With that I should be able to build up a herd of over one thousand five hundred cows. With Mrs Burnham’s herd, we should be pushing close to four thousand head of cattle.’

‘How long will that take?’ she asked.

‘Maybe two and a half to three years. Could be more, could be less.’

‘As long as that? Is that how long it took you to make your twelve thousand dollars?’

Once again, Emily laughed and I felt I was being held to ridicule.

‘At least I made it honestly,’ I snapped and an ‘ooh,’ came from Emily’s lips.

‘Alright Andrew,’ cooed Chameli. ‘Calm down, I admire you for working so hard all those years for so little. I am sure that in maybe, twenty years’ time, you will be a rich cattleman with your own ranch.’

‘It might not be a big fortune for three years of hard toil, but it was honest toil and I got satisfaction from it and it made me feel good.’

‘Alright,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘You have talked me into it. Emily and I will come with you to Texas and your friend’s little ranch. With me there to watch over you, maybe you will be able to get rich quicker than you anticipated.’

I thought of Mrs Burnham and how her kindness could easily be exploited by this devious woman. Sally wouldn’t be fooled easily, but she would be no match for Chameli.

‘I’m not going to unleash you on those good folks,’ I said with finality. ‘I am going back alone. All you are interested in is yourself and your own selfish needs. I just do not understand why you keep attaching yourself to me. I am nothing to you, yet you seem to take great pleasure in ruining everything I try to achieve. What the hell do you want with me?’

‘It is our destiny to be together Andrew, even if we wanted to stay apart, we will always come together sooner or later, so why fight it?’

‘I don’t believe in destiny, it was pure coincidence that you were in that restaurant when I was looking for a table.’

I could see that Emily was fascinated by the conversation. In the few days she had spent with us on the trail, she seemed to have come to accept me into her and Chameli’s life, even being friendly towards me in a suspicious kind of way. But I suspected it was because she was so devoted to her adoptive mother that she was willing to trust Chameli’s judgment on me, or anybody for that matter. No doubt Chameli had spoken to her and told her it would be in both their interests to be nice to me.

Chameli took my hand in hers and the feeling of her small hand in mine sent tingles coursing through my veins making me realise that we had never, in all the time I had known her, held hands. In fact, we had never shown any kind of closeness to each other, not even a brief embrace. The only time I had held her close was on the first night, after I found and washed her, when I lay down with her under the blanket purely to keep her warm.

‘I know you love me Andrew and I know, deep down, you want to be with me. Well I am here for you we can be together the way you have always wanted. You, me and Emily can be a family and if raising cows is what you want to do, then that is what we will do.’

‘You attach yourself to me like a damned leech and I don’t understand why. You just won’t let me alone to get on with my own life. Why do you want to be with me? You don’t love me, so what other reason can you have?’

‘You need me Andrew and don’t forget, if it had not been for you, I might not even have been here now so we have an attachment to each other.’

‘Why, what happened?’ Gasped Emily incredulously.

‘I never told you this Em, but Andrew saved my life twice, so you have him to thank for having me in your life.’

‘If you are clinging to me out of some misguided loyalty, then don’t. You don’t owe me a damned thing,’ I growled. ‘You are free to go and find some other poor fool to torment.’

‘How did he save your life?’ Emily interjected.

‘It’s a long story,’ Chameli answered ruefully. ‘What happened to me is not something for young ears such as yours. When you are older, I will tell you all about it.’

‘I’m not a kid anymore, I am thirteen, almost a woman.’

‘Well when you are fully a woman, I will tell you. Until then, I will say no more on the subject.’

Emily, placed her chin in her hands as she leaned her elbows on the table and pouted her lips. I couldn’t help smiling, I had witnessed the same kind of attitude with two other teenage girls from my past life, neither of them had known about the other, but they had been as dear to me as if they had been my own daughters. I was convinced that they had both suffered intolerable heartbreak because of me, I was bad luck to anybody who got close to me. I couldn’t allow another girl to suffer the way they had.

‘I cannot leave you Andrew. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you and I was not there to look after you. Why don’t you face the truth? You are nothing without me.’

I groaned. It was like banging my head against a tree. She just would not budge from her stubborn determination to stay with me and if I were to be truthful with myself, I would be disappointed if she did. She had constantly been in my thoughts during the past six years. She was trouble and always would be, but I loved her regardless and if I heard her say, just once, that she loved me too. I would gladly take her anywhere she wanted to go and do anything she wanted to do.

‘Do you care for me at all?’ I asked.

‘You should not need to ask that. Why else would I want to be with you? Would you like me to prove it?’

‘You could prove it by saying three simple words.’

‘I’ll do better than that, tonight I will stay with you in your room and you can finally, have me. That’s what you’ve always wanted isn’t it?’

Emily giggled loudly.

‘No, I mean yes. No not that way, I don’t want you to give yourself to me just so that you can get what you want.’

‘Then what?’

‘I want it to be because it is what you want to do. I want it to be the right thing to do at the right time.’

‘Oh, you are so right Andrew, we should wait for the right time and the right place. If we wait until we are both ready, then it will be beautiful. First, we must get to know each other all over again and then after a few weeks or months, who can tell what will happen. So from tomorrow we will start our new life together, just you, me and Emily and then we will see what the future will bring.’

I groaned inwardly as she smiled brightly at me. She had done it again. By using clever tactics, she had tricked me into accepting that we were going to stay together. She could tie me up in knots and she knew it. I wondered what she would have done if I had accepted her offer to sleep with me. I guess she would have found a way to make me feel guilty and release her from any obligation. I could just ride away and abandon them, but then I would feel nothing but guilt and anyway, despite all her devious ways, I honestly felt my heart would break if I lost her again after all this time.

‘Alright,’ I said resignedly. ‘But we are not going to Texas. I have decided, that in the morning we will head for Wyoming and I’ll see if I can rent or buy some grazing land where we can build up a herd of cattle.’

‘It’s going to be good you and I back together again and with Emily as well, we are going to be a real family.’

She climbed to her feet and took Emily’s hand.

‘Come along Emily,’ she said brightly. ‘We must get some rest, we have a big day tomorrow.’

TWENTY-TWO

The three of us set off west heading for Cheyenne, Wyoming. On the way, I asked Chameli about the man she had been with in the restaurant in Dodge. It seemed to me that she had walked out on him with no word of explanation. But she assured me that there had been no serious arrangement between them. He had made her an offer to take care of them both in return for companionship. The offer wasn’t binding and she was at liberty to refuse any time and go her own way. She had left word with one of his aids that she had decided to decline his kind offer.

When I asked what she had been doing over the past six years, she wasn’t so forthcoming. But she did, as always find a way to establish herself as the deserted victim whilst I was the villain who had abandoned her.

‘Oh,’ she answered. ‘Do you mean the six years after you abandoned Emily and me and left us to fend for ourselves in this terrible country. Two vulnerable girls alone and at the mercy of any ruffian or molester that happened to come across us?’

‘You will never be vulnerable,’ I said sardonically. ‘It is the men you meet who are the vulnerable ones.’

‘Well we still had to fend for ourselves,’ she snapped. ‘We were alone with little money and nobody to look out for us, but don’t let that weigh on your conscience Andrew. As long as you managed to save your skin, why should you care about what happened to us?’

‘I explained what had happened. I would not have left you alone if I could have avoided it. Damn it, if I had gone back to prison I would have been no good to you or anybody else for that matter.’

‘So you ran out on us like the coward you are.’

‘Is that what you really think of me?’

‘No Andrew, I know you are not a coward. But you did put yourself before Emily and me and that is something I would never do to you. I would never abandon you when you needed me most.’

She was right and I felt ashamed right then. I could have at least, stayed there to see if I had to face any consequences. It hurt to think that if I had stayed, I would not have subjected Sarah and her daughters to being kidnapped by Indians, or Katherine to die in childbirth. I would not be feeling the way I did right then after what Chameli had said. I fell silent as she rode alongside me looking accusingly, into my face. I just didn’t know what else I could say.

We made camp by a small stream in a stand of trees. Chameli and Emily had rode ahead of me chattering to each other the whole time we were travelling, while I rode behind with the pack mules in tow. It was just the same while we were in camp. I was ignored practically the whole time and I felt as though I had just been brought along because I might be useful to them.

I built a fire and Chameli cooked us a meal, at least she afforded me the privilege of eating with them. They sat together on one side of the fire whilst I sat opposite them on the other. After the meal, we drank coffee, with Chameli and Emily talking in low tones to each other and me staring blankly into the flames. Then, after a period of relative silence, Chameli spoke to me bringing me out of my reverie.

‘What?’ I asked. ‘Were you talking to me?’

‘I said, what have you been doing for the past six years Andrew?’

I thought of Sarah and her lovely daughters, I thought of my wonderful Katherine and the son we never had and I thought of Amelia, the adopted daughter who I had come to love and Sally who I had, also, become so fond of and I didn’t want to share those memories with a woman who would be contemptuous of my weakness for dwelling on them.

‘Oh, this and that,’ I said quietly.

‘I’m surprised you managed to survive so long without me.’

‘I survived for many years before I met you, so I think I could get by somehow, without you.’

She laughed.

‘Did you miss me Andrew?’

‘Yes, like I would miss a toothache.’

‘I know you don’t mean that, I know I have been on your mind constantly. If it makes you feel any better Andrew, I also missed you and that’s the truth. I thought about you all the time wondering if you were getting along ok without me to take care of you.’

‘Well if that’s true you need not have worried, I got along just fine.’

She looked a little disappointed and I wondered if she needed me to need her. Maybe that is why she had kept Emily with her. She wanted to feel needed. At that moment, I must have had a sadistic urge to hurt her the way she had so often hurt me, there was no other reason to say what I did.

‘I got married,’ I said impulsively.

‘What?’

She looked shocked at first, then she laughed.

‘No you didn’t,’ she giggled. ‘You wouldn’t get married knowing I was still somewhere waiting for you.’

‘I didn’t think I would ever see you again.’

‘How could you think that Andrew? I always knew we would see each other again.’

‘Well it seems like you were proven right. But I fell in love and got married and she was with child.’

‘You might have got married,’ she snapped angrily. ‘But you could not have loved her, you cannot love two people, you cannot love another woman the way that you love me. If you had you would be with her and your child now, or is she another woman you have abandoned and left to manage alone?’

‘I did not abandon her or the boy, they abandoned me.’

‘Huh!’ She exclaimed. ‘Well I can’t say that I can blame her, I am probably the only woman who would put up with you for any length of time.’

‘She died in childbirth,’ I said hoarsely.

I never meant to tell her. I just could not help myself after what she said. Katherine and I were as happy as two people could be, we did love each other, though maybe not quite the same kind of intense love I felt for Chameli. But we were devoted and I had been ready to spend the rest of my life with her.

Chameli looked horrified, her mouth was agape and tears welled in her eyes, something I did not think she was capable of. Suddenly, she sprang to her feet and came round the fire to kneel beside me, then she flung her arms around my neck and hugged me to her burying her face into my neck.

‘Oh Andrew,’ she cried. ‘I am so sorry, you know I never really meant those things. It’s just that it shocked me when you said you had been married and I became jealous.’

This was another side of Chameli that I had never come across before. I didn’t even think she was capable of real compassion. She had never in all the time I had known her, hugged me like that and it felt good. She never ceased to surprise me, there was always a side to her personality lying undiscovered somewhere that managed to surface when I least expected it. I sat in silence enjoying her embrace, not daring to move in case she broke away. Finally, she spoke with her face pressed into the side of my neck and I could feel her soft lips moving against my neck and her hot her breath on my skin.

‘Did the baby die too Andrew?’

‘Yes,’ I whispered.

I looked across the fire to see Emily staring intently at us, she looked sad, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of what I had said about the baby, or because she was unhappy about the way her adoptive mother was hugging me.

‘What was your wife’s name?’ Chameli was asking.

‘Katherine.’

‘Pretty name,’

‘Yes.’

‘Was she pretty?’

‘Yes, she was beautiful.’

‘As beautiful as me?’

I pushed her away and she knelt looking at me in surprise.

‘Why do you want me to compare her with you and what does it matter now, how beautiful she was? She has gone, leave it at that.’

‘I didn’t mean anything by it Andrew, I was just being curious that’s all. I wasn’t being disrespectful.’

I looked into her big dark eyes, they appeared to be imploring me to accept her explanation and as usual, when her eyes held mine, I became enchanted.

‘Yes,’ I said quietly. ‘She was as beautiful as you.’ Then I added. ‘But she was beautiful in a different way to how you are.’

Chameli stood.

‘Thank you Andrew,’ she said brightly. ‘It is good to know that I am still as beautiful to you as I ever was.’

Then she went back to sit by Emily.

I stared at her as she sat with her arm around EmiIy’s shoulders. She smiled happily, at me whilst I in turn, tried to figure out what that show of compassion was all about. Was that just an act to get me to admit that I thought she was beautiful, or was she showing genuine compassion? I just did not know. I would never be able to figure out Chameli Gonzales as long as I lived.

Just before we arrived at Cheyenne, Chameli reined her horse alongside mine out of earshot of Emily and told me something that shocked me and brought old wounds flooding back to my mind. She said it in a matter of fact way, just brought it into the conversation as if it wasn’t important.

‘Singer lives in Wyoming not far from Cheyenne.’

I stopped my horse and stared at her.

‘What?’ I gasped. ‘Why did you choose this moment to tell me that?’

She had reined in close to me.

‘I thought you would want to know.’

‘I do want to know, but why didn’t you tell me before?’

She gazed into my eyes and there was a kind of sadness etched on her face.

‘It has taken me all this time to decide whether or not, to tell you at all. I care for you Andrew and I have wondered if it would be better if you did not know. After all this time, maybe it would be better if we let it go and forget about Singer and what he did to us.’

I had thought that I would never see Singer again and as the years had passed, my thoughts of revenge had waned somewhat. But now, knowing he was so close, the memories of my family and the manner in which they had been slain and defiled, came flooding back. I saw the lovely little face of my sister and how it was before they had disfigured it. Then a picture of her lying in the dirt, her tiny body broken and abused with Singer’s knife buried in her and anger rose in me like an unstoppable flood. It took me a while to compose myself enough to speak evenly.

‘I have to kill him,’ I growled. ‘I will never be entirely satisfied, or be able get on with my life if I know he is somewhere out there, alive and breathing while my family have all gone.’

‘I knew that is how you would react,’ she said. That is why I took so long in deciding to tell you. I will help you to get him if you are so determined. But he is a cripple now with your bullet still inside him and he suffers constantly. But he has become a wealthy man. He used money he had stashed away from robberies and holdups, to buy a ranch and he built it up to one of the biggest in the area. He has surrounded himself with gunmen and killers. Getting to him will be almost impossible. Also, he has powerful friends in other big ranchers, so even if you kill him they will hire men to come after you.’

‘You have as much cause to want him dead as I do,’ I said. ‘Have you forgotten what he did to you?’

‘Singer didn’t do anything to me personally. The reason I want him dead is because he allowed his men to do what they did and did not raise a hand to stop them. He just walked away back to camp and left them to do what they did. But they are all dead now and although, I still want Singer to suffer for allowing them to do it and will take great satisfaction in helping you to get him, my thoughts of revenge died a little with the death of the men who abused me.

‘How, do you know so much about him and how did you find out where he is?’

‘I have been watching him for you Andrew, ever since you shot him. Wherever he went, Emily and I went. Then, finally, we followed him here to Cheyenne and stayed around until he had built up his cattle empire.’

‘How did you get by and manage to care for a child as well?’

‘Gambling, I am a very good gambler and very good at averting men’s eyes away from my cards.’

I grinned. I could imagine her ways of diverting men’s eyes. She would have had the other gamblers eating out of her hand, a hand that, no doubt was quicker than the eye. However, one more thing was irking me.

‘Why were you in Dodge City?’

‘I followed him there, he had his hands drive a herd there and he went along in a converted buckboard with a kind of bed in it and a fixture for his wheelchair.’

‘Did he know you were watching him?’

‘Oh yes, I made sure he knew. But I would only let him catch glimpses of me when he was in town. I let him see that I was in Dodge too, so that he would be in no doubt that I was watching him closely and biding my time until you and I were reunited. He never knew where I was staying. Sometimes, I rode right up to his ranch and flirted with the hands, making sure that Singer could see me. So, yes he knew alright and I made sure he was in no doubt that I was saving him for you.’

‘I cannot ride away while he is still alive. But you have Emily to care for, if anything happens to you she will be alone.’

‘You are right, but whatever you do and wherever you go, I must do the same. We are as one Andrew, I realised that not long after you found me all those years ago. Neither of us is any good without the other.’

I regarded her intently and saw that she was deadly serious.

‘You really believe that don’t you?’

‘Yes of course, don’t you?’

‘I’d like to believe it, but I have more of a practical mind.’

‘Well you will see in time. But I have to help you when you go after Singer that much is for sure. I didn’t tell you, but I paid him a visit while you were in prison. He was still recovering in a private convalescence home in California. Like I told you, I tracked him down there so that I could tell him you would be coming after him and would kill him no matter how long it took.’

‘How did he take that?’

‘He didn’t care at the time, he was suffering great pain and I guess he probably thought dying would be a release from it. I could easily have killed him myself there and then, but I didn’t want to take away your satisfaction and anyway, I enjoyed seeing him suffer and he saw that I did and that gave me a lot of satisfaction.’

‘What if we had never met again? I asked. ‘You couldn’t know if we would ever see each other again, or even if I was dead.’

‘Oh yes I could. I knew without any doubt at all, that we would be together again. Anything but that just couldn’t happen. You and I are destined to be together no matter what.’

‘Well forgive me if I don’t share your confidence. In my mind, it was a coincidence that we met in Dodge.’

‘You believe that if you want to Andrew. I know different. But right now, Singer is the priority for you.’

‘You would have married that man in Dodge if you hadn’t thought I was going to be rich. I’m surprised you stayed with me at all after you found out I wouldn’t have as much money as you thought.’

‘That was just me teasing you Andrew. I would have come with you even if you had been completely broke. I told you, we cannot ever be without each other no matter what. Now I am going to help you get Singer.’

I won’t be satisfied until he is dead. I want to look him in the eyes and kill him slowly the way he killed my family and I want to hear him scream in agony while I am doing it.’

‘I understand that Andrew and as I said, I am going to help you. Whatever you want to do we will do it.’

‘What about Emily? What if it goes wrong? If he is as wealthy as you said and is going to be surrounded by gunmen, then he won’t be easy to get to.’

‘Before we go after Singer, I will have to make arrangements for her just in case.’

‘What kind of arrangements? Are you going see if somebody will adopt her?’

‘Oh no, I couldn’t do that, she is a part of my....our life. All three of us belong together.’

‘Well we will talk more when we get to Cheyenne. Let’s get rid of the trail dust first and get a good meal inside of us and it will be good to sleep in a bed tonight.’

I had never been to Cheyenne and I was surprised at how big the town was it had a thriving business community with banks and a post office as well as saloons and hotels. We found a good hotel and I booked two rooms, before we went in search of a restaurant.

The next morning we had breakfast at the same restaurant and I spoke to Chameli about an idea I had.

‘My wife had daughter who I adopted and I love her as if she were my own,’ I said tentatively.

Chameli looked at me and smiled.

‘Really Andrew?’ she enthused. ‘Well it seems like we both have adopted daughters, they could be sisters.’

‘How could they be sisters? They are not even related.’

‘Well, they kind of will be when you and I get married.’

If she had knocked me off my chair, I couldn’t have been more surprised.

‘Married?’ I asked incredulously. ‘Why are you talking about us being married?’

‘Because we will be one day.’

She never failed to come up with shocks to my system. I couldn’t figure out whether she was serious or if it was just another of her flippant remarks.

‘Is this another of your, “our destiny things”?’

‘It is our destiny, I’ve always known it right from the day I first set eyes on you.’

‘I always thought you should love somebody to marry them.’

‘Yes, that is true and you do love me.’

‘But that just makes it one sided. If two people get married, they should both love each other equally.’

She grinned at me.

‘Ooh Andrew,’ she giggled. ‘I see what you are doing. You are trying to make me say I love you as much as you love me.’

‘Well, I couldn’t marry somebody who doesn’t love me, it wouldn’t work.’

‘I am not just anybody, I am your destiny. It couldn’t possibly not work.’

I could see I was going to get nowhere with her. She was determined not to commit her love for me.

‘Anyway,’ I continued. ‘I want to see my daughter again before I go up against Singer’s men. We could go down there to their farm and I think they would take Emily in for a while. They are very good people and I can guarantee her safety if she stays with them.’

‘I don’t want to,’ Emily suddenly said. ‘I want to stay with you Cha.’

‘I know you do baby, but Andrew and I have something to do and having you along would make it very dangerous for us and for you too. Do this one thing for me and I promise I will never leave you again.’

‘Why do you have to go?’ the girl asked. ‘Can’t Andrew do it alone?’

‘Maybe he could, maybe he couldn’t I don’t know Emily. But I do know that what we are going to do has been on the cards for years, long before you came into our lives and it is something neither one of us will do without the other.’

Then Emily surprised me with a question of her own directed at Chameli.

‘Do you love Andrew?’

Chameli looked at Emily, then looked at me before answering.

‘I know I could never live without him and it would break my heart to lose him again.’

Once again her ability to shock me came through. Was that a declaration of love or another way of wriggling out of it?

‘Alright,’ Emily said quietly. ‘I will do whatever you say. But you will come back for me won’t you?’

‘I would never leave you any longer than I have to baby. You are the world to me and I couldn’t bear to be without you for long.’

Emily smiled but I could see she was reluctant to be left with strangers. That was assuming they would be willing to take her in.

‘Anyway,’ I said kindly. ‘We have a long journey and it will be a long time before we even get there. So you both have plenty of time together yet.’

‘Where is this farm?’ Chameli asked.

‘It’s in Kansas near Coffeyville.’

‘That is a long way to go on the off chance that they will take Emily in.’

‘I know, but I need to see Amelia one more time. It might be the last time I ever see her and I need to make up for the way I walked out on her.’

‘How long will it take us to get there?’

‘If we go on horseback, nearly two weeks. But I figure if we go to Denver and get on a train to Kansas City and then hire horses to go from there to the farm near Parsons, it will take around five days.’

Emily looked up from playing with her food.

‘I aint never been on a train before,’ she said brightly.

‘Then it will be a real treat for you,’ said Chameli. ‘We can all enjoy the journey without having to go the whole way on horseback.’

She looked intently at me.

‘I thought you were anxious to get to Singer though. It will be, maybe two weeks before we get back here.’

‘After all the years I have waited to get to him, two weeks aint gonna make a difference.’

We liveried our horses and mules in Denver with the instructions to care for them for two to three weeks. Then we boarded a train bound for Fort Worth.

I had managed, I believed, to gain the trust of Emily. She was beginning to talk more freely with me and god, could she talk. She was entirely different to the little girl I remembered, who had been dumped on us by the dying Indian all those years ago, Then, she barely even spoke to Chameli and not at all to me. She found an old Chicago magazine on the train and chatted on about the latest fashions she found inside. She giggled at the sight of dresses with bustles to enhance the back side of the city women. She enthused about the lovely bonnets and shawls, the ankle length button up boots and the hairstyles. Then when she had exhausted one topic of conversation, she would go on to another, hardly drawing breath between sentences.

It had become obvious to me early in our relationship, that Chameli was a very intelligent and knowledgeable woman. She had been raised by the Cheyenne and had been taught how to speak, read and write excellent English by an English woman who had chosen to live with the Cheyenne in order to study their ways and customs. Chameli had told me during one of our more serious conversations, that her thirst for knowledge from an early age, knew no bounds. She read the countless books the woman had with her, including books on law, history and world travel. Then when she left the tribe she had been raised by, because she had become of marriageable age, she enhanced her knowledge further whilst working as an army scout. Now I realised what a good teacher she must be also. Emily showed that she too was intelligent and had obviously been taught well by her adoptive mother. However, her incessant chatter exhausted me and after a couple of hours I dozed off and fell into a deep sleep.

In Kansas City, we hired horses and made the journey down to Labette county Kansas, where the farm was located not far from Parsons.

As we neared the farm, I became increasingly, agitated and nervous about what kind of reception I would receive. I could see that Emily, too was becoming anxious the closer we got and had reduced her incessant chatter to just a few questions and then eventually, when the farm buildings came in sight, she fell silent completely. Chameli, as was her way, never showed any signs of nerves and carried on talking normally as though she was just arriving home from a trip. I had charged both Emily and Chameli to address me by my Alias, Daniel, so as not to cause confusion, which they both agreed to do. I also charged Chameli not to mention that I had fought in the war on the side of the Confederacy. I had already told her about Rachael and the girls and the circumstances surrounding the reason I had ended up here on the farm so that nothing would come as a surprise. Now all that was left to me, was to face the people I had hurt in such a cowardly way by walking out on them, especially Amelia, at a time when she needed me most.

There were more farm buildings than there had been before and I could see in the fields beyond, large flocks of sheep and off to one side, many pigs wallowing in a penned off area. The main house had also, been extended and looked very impressive. Emmet and his brother seemed to be doing well and I felt as though I was imposing on their good fortune.

Emmet was standing on the stoop watching us as we neared their position and Rose, looking older than I remembered, was in her usual place in her rocking chair. I saw recognition dawn on Emmet’s face and he let out a loud whoop.

‘My god,’ he said. ‘Is it really you Daniel?’

‘Daniel?’ Rose repeated. ‘Is it Daniel returned, Emmet?’

Her voice was cracked and hoarse as she spoke and she was squinting as she tried to make me out, I guessed her vision had become impaired over the years.

‘Yes Rose it’s Daniel, he has returned and it looks like he found his family.’

He ran down the steps as I was dismounting and threw his arms around my waist in a bear hug, lifting me off the ground.

‘By god boy,’ he yelled. ‘It is good to see you here after all this time, you sure are a sight for sore eyes.’

He released me suddenly and coyly looked up at Chameli.

‘Begging your pardon maam, I am not normally so boisterous, but it has been so long and Daniel is like a son to Rose and me,’

Chameli had no need to answer him. She simply treated him to one of her most disarming smiles and I could see him visibly melt under its charm.

‘Daniel?’ Rose called feebly. ‘Is that you son?’

I went up the steps and took her hand in mine.

‘Yes maam it is me, it is good to see you again Rose.’

She reached up and placed her arms around my neck hugging me to her and I could feel her tears on my cheek.

‘Thank the lord you came back Daniel. I thought I would go to my grave without ever seeing you again. Now, when my time comes, I can die happy.’

‘That won’t be any time soon Rose,’ I said hoarsely.

‘Of course it won’t Daniel, not now you are here.’

The welcome had been completely unexpected. At best, I had hoped that they would tolerate my return. At worst, I expected them to resent me coming back, hate me even. Instead, I was treated like the son they had lost, returning from the war. If I were to be truthful, they had all but adopted me as their son a long time ago and I felt, would forgive me anything. However, I wasn’t so sure about Amelia. She would be fourteen now and had, probably born nothing but hatred for me from the day I walked out on her.

Whilst I had been talking to Rose, Emmet had helped Chameli and Emily to dismount, not that it was needed, but Emmet was a gentleman who treated a lady as just that. I excused myself to Rose as they all mounted the steps. Rose squinted at the two girls.

‘Did you find you family Daniel?’ she asked.

‘No Rose,’ I replied. ‘This is a lady who has lived with the Cheyenne and she thinks she knows where they could be. Rose, Emmet, this is Chameli Gonzales and her adopted daughter, Emily.’

Chameli stepped forward and took Rose’s hand in both of hers.

‘Hello Rose,’ she said eloquently. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you.’

‘You too my dear,’ Rose responded.

Chameli turned to Emmet and offered her hand which he gladly took in his own big, gnarled hand.

‘You too Emmet,’ she cooed and I could see by his face that she had already enchanted him.

‘Likewise maam,’ he stammered.

Emily had stood silently by during the exchanges with her hands clasped tightly together in front of her.

‘Help me up Emmet,’ said Rose. ‘These folks must be hungry and thirsty, I must prepare a meal for them as Amelia isn’t here.’

At the mention of Amelia I had looked up sharply, only to feel my heart sink when Rose continued to say, that she wasn’t here. I wondered if she had gone away somewhere. Maybe to school in the East.

‘Please,’ said Chameli. ‘Let me prepare something, if you just show me where everything is I will try to do something at least, approaching the high standards of cooking that Daniel has told me about.’

‘My, goodness,’ said Rose enthusiastically. ‘I do believe this lady could charm the hooves off a mule. No offence my dear. I really do find you charming and I will gladly show you everything if you are willing to cook for us.’

Chameli smiled and effortlessly helped the old lady to her feet. She had aged visibly and physically and struggled, even leaning on Chameli, to walk the few paces through the door and to the kitchen, Emily followed them inside.

Emmet had always kept bottles of beer dangling by a chord into the cold water of the spring that ran close to the farm. He, Thomas and I would sit on the stoop of an evening, supping cold beer and putting the world to rights during those happy times when Katherine was alive. We strolled to the spring and I reflected on how good life had been then. Emmet took two bottles of beer from the water and handed me one, after which, we sat down by the spring and sipped beer from the bottles.

‘It must getting close to four years Dan,’ he said. ‘What you been up to all this time?’

‘Oh this and that. I searched the plains for a while, but I didn’t come across any Indians, never mind a tribe that might have Rachael. After a while I needed money so I turned to cattle herding. I got a job on a ranch and learned how to raise cows. I even got myself a stake in a herd that we drove up from Texas to Ogallala and made a fair profit on my share of the cows.’

‘That’s good to hear boy, I’m glad you made something of your life. But I am sorry that you were unable to locate your family. After you left here, we worried that you might turn bad or turn to drink or something after losing Katherine and your child.’

‘I appreciate that Emmet, you look to have done pretty good yourself. The farm looks good and healthy and you have built it up bigger than I remember.’

‘Thomas and I decided to turn to sheep farming when you left and we keep pigs as well. Best thing we could have done. We grow maize now as well as corn, there is a big demand for maize. So what with that and the livestock, we are doing pretty good son.’

‘That’s good Emmet and I hope you continue to prosper. How is Thomas doing by the way? Is he working the land right now?’

‘Thomas is doing just fine son. He has a lady friend in Parsons and spends almost as much time in town as he does here on the farm.’

‘Well that’s just fine and dandy. I never thought he would ever get close to a lady what with his cantankerous ways and all.’

Emmet laughed loudly.

‘Me neither son,’ he guffawed. ‘Old Thomas is so stuck in his ways, we was all surprised when he announced that he was, “goin’ a courtin,” as he called it.’

I noticed he had deliberately not mentioned Amelia and I began to wonder why; had something happened to her? I dismissed that thought immediately, if anything had happened to her he would have told me knowing how much I thought of her. There must be another reason why he was avoiding the subject. Could be my first thought about her going to school in the east might be right. If so I was going to be heartbroken that after the long journey here, I would not get to see her.

We sat in silence for a while sipping our beer. It felt good to be back, or it would be if it didn’t bring back the memory of Katherine. However, the memory was bitter sweet. I remembered the good times, the hours we spent holding each other watching the humming birds and meadow larks as we lay in the grass content with the world. Then the bitterness, when the memory of how she had left Amelia and me broken and in deep grief, when she and my baby had gone from this world taking with her the one last chance of true happiness I was ever going to get.

I could not keep quiet any longer. I needed to know.

‘What about Amelia Emmet?’ I asked anxiously.

He did not look up, but took a long pull from his beer before answering.

‘I’ve been putting of this moment son,’ he said gently. ‘I know how much you think of that child, hardly a child anymore, as it happens.’

‘She must be fourteen going on fifteen,’ I said in answer.

‘Yup, fifteen in a couple of months Daniel.’

‘Time flies,’ I said, impatient to hear the truth.

‘She never wants to see you again Daniel, that’s the truth of it.’

I stared at him, but I should not have been surprised at what he said. I treated her badly walking out at a time when she needed me most and in truth, a time when we needed each other.

‘That’s understandable,’ I said. ‘After the way I treated her.’

‘We tried to explain that you had a good reason to go son. But the truth of it was, even we couldn’t understand why you had to leave, so what chance had we of explaining it to a child stricken with grief?’

If that was meant to hurt me or make me feel guilty. It worked. I couldn’t have been more hurt or wracked with guilt, than I was right then and I struggled to keep the tears of self-pity from moistening my eyes.

‘Where is she now Emmet?’

‘I have to tell you Daniel, she hates you. Right from the day you left, she has poured scorn and vitriol on your name whenever it has been brought up by any of us. Rose and me have always been fond of you son so we were bound to mention you occasionally. But when we did, she would run from the room screaming things like, “I don’t want to hear that man’s name mentioned while I’m around.” So, after a while, we only spoke of you when she wasn’t there.’

‘Ok Emmet, ‘I understand and thanks for being so honest with me.’ Then, although it was stating the obvious, I said. ‘I take it she isn’t around right now.’

‘She went to town with Thomas. They are staying over visiting Thomas’s lady friend and they won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. So it will be ok for you to stay here overnight. But it wouldn’t be wise for her to see you. She is only just getting her life back to normal. She has grieved for years over the death of her mother and has finally, come to terms with being abandoned by her adoptive father. Seeing you and bringing it all back again is the last thing she needs. I’m sorry to be so frank about it son, but that’s the way it is and there is nothing anybody but Amelia can do about it.

‘You are right of course Emmet and I will make sure we leave in the morning. I had a favour to ask of you, but I am not sure I have the right to ask now.’

Just then, Rose called for us to come to the house for dinner.

‘We better go Daniel,’ said Emmet. ‘You know what Rose is like for punctuality.’

I smiled, but there was no mirth in it, not after what Emmet had told me about Amelia.

The five of us sat around the table I remembered so well and ate a meal cooked by Chameli with a little help from Emily. Was there no end to that woman’s talents?

Rose sang Chameli’s praises, saying that she had never had a more entertaining afternoon. She announced that without a doubt, Chameli was one of the most interesting women she had ever met. Her stories about her exploits as she had travelled between states with the Cheyenne and later, the army, had had the older woman enthralled. It seemed like Chameli had found another convert to her band of admirers.

After dinner, Emmet, Chameli and me drank beer, whilst Rose and Emily, drank tea. The talk had dwindled down to the odd question and answer. Then Emmet spoke.

‘You mentioned that you wanted a favour Daniel,’

‘Yes Emmet I did, but now I wonder if I have the right to ask.’

‘Well ask away anyway son, then I will decide whether or not I can grant the favour.’

‘Well, as I said, Chameli thinks there may be a way to locate Sarah and her children. But it will be dangerous, too dangerous to take Emily along. So we...I wondered if she could stay with you for a few days, or until we do, or don’t locate them.’

‘Of course she can stay,’ Rose put in. ‘She, is a charming girl and will be good company for Amelia and me.’

‘Hang on Rose,’ said Emmet. ‘What will we tell Amelia? She won’t want anything to do with anybody associated with Daniel.’

‘Then we will tell her she is the daughter of an old friend who has fallen ill and we are looking after her while she recovers. Don’t worry, we will think of something.’

‘Well there you go Daniel, it looks like you request is granted if Emily is happy to stay with us.’

Emily looked at Chameli for guidance, who nodded slightly and smiled at the younger girl. Then she turned to Emmet.

‘I would love to stay with you and your wife sir if you are willing to have me.’

Oh yes, Chameli had taught her very well.

‘You see,’ said Rose. ‘Such a charming and polite girl.’

‘Yes indeed,’ enthused Emmet. ‘We will be pleased to have you stay with us for a few days, or weeks if necessary. We still have a spare room where you can have your privacy.’

He looked pointedly at me as he said the last and I knew instantly, that he meant the room that Katherine and I had shared.

‘I will pay for her board as long as she is here,’ I offered.

‘’You will do no such thing Daniel,’ cut in Rose. ‘We will enjoy having her here and that will be payment enough.’

‘I can work,’ said Emily.

‘Well no doubt we can find the odd chore if you are willing Emily,’ Rose said. ‘Whatever makes you happy child.’

Emily smiled sweetly at her.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly.

Emily was tired after the long journey so Rose showed her to the room that she and Chameli would be sharing for the night and that Emily would be using for as long as her stay lasted.

Emmet and I had another beer, while Rose and Chameli drank sweet coffee made with goat’s milk.

‘So how did you and Chameli meet, Daniel?’ Emmet asked brightly.

I looked across at her and she raised an eyebrow as though to say “this will be interesting.”

‘I met her in Ogallala after driving the herd of cattle to the stock yards. She was being harassed by drunken ruffians and I helped her out.’

‘He was a knight in shining armour come to my rescue,’ she smiled and I could sense the sarcasm in her voice.

‘Well anyway,’ I said hurriedly. ‘We talked and I learned that she knew a lot about Indians and especially Cheyenne Indians. She told me that there might be a way to locate my family and that she was willing to help but could not risk putting Emily in danger. Well I wanted to come here and see Amelia again. So I thought, maybe I could ask you the favour of taking care of Emily for us. Now I know that seeing Amelia is no longer an option for me. But it’s been dandy to see you and Rose again Emmet.’

Rose looked at me sadly.

‘If only you had stayed Daniel, then the torment we had to go through for years afterwards need not have happened.’

‘I thought at the time, it was the right thing to do Rose. It seemed to me, that everybody I love or become fond of, end up in bad situations. I was terrified the same would happen to Amelia.’

‘Well it’s done now,’ said Emmet. ‘Water under the bridge and there’s nothing we can do to change that, nor the way Amelia feels about Daniel.’

Chameli was listening intently and when I looked into her dark, usually unreadable eyes, I saw genuine concern there.

I slept on the floor of the sitting room on a straw mattress and covered by a blanket. Chameli and Emily, shared the room that I had shared with Katherine just a few years earlier. I slept well and woke refreshed long after the sun came up. I went through into the kitchen to find Chameli and Emily preparing breakfast. Rose was sitting at the table watching them as all three of them chatted to each other. After greeting them with good mornings I took a kettle of hot water from the stove and went outside to fill a bowl so that I could wash. Emmet had been up since dawn and was already out tending to the pigs and checking on the sheep. He joined us long after we had already started eating breakfast and apologised for his lateness giving the reason that a coyote had got into the chicken pen and had killed some of the hens. It had taken a while to repair the damage.

After breakfast we had the chore of saying goodbye. It was difficult for me to say goodbye again after the memory of last time. It was even more difficult for Chameli. She and Emily had been constant companions for more than six years. It must have been very difficult for them to tear themselves apart from each other after so long. Chameli hugged Rose as though they were very old friends, then she kissed Emmet on the cheek, causing him to blush and shuffle his feet bashfully. Finally, whilst I said my goodbyes to Rose and Emmet, she held Emily close to her for many minutes. When they parted, Emily was crying and I could tell that Chameli was also close to tears, even though she believed crying was a sign of weakness.

Emmet opened the door to allow us to pass through onto the stoop. I followed Rose, Emily and Chameli out of the door. They had all stopped and were looking down into the yard. I allowed my eyes to follow their combined gaze and was shocked to see that Thomas and Amelia had just climbed down from a buckboard. She stood rooted to the spot when she saw me as did, I was taken completely by surprise and could do nothing more than stare. She had grown and filled out into a lovely young woman and I could see that she was as beautiful as her mother had been, in fact it was like looking at a younger version of Katherine.

Thomas was standing on the other side of the buckboard with his mouth agape, also rooted to the spot. Each person there was standing as still as a statue, each waiting for the other to make the first move. I knew it had to be me. I needed to at least, try to explain my actions when I had so cruelly, left her here at the worst possible time in her life, the one time when she needed a father most.

As I advanced carefully, down the steps, her eyes never wavered from my face. She was glaring at me intently and I wasn’t sure if it was sorrow, or hate I could see in her eyes. I guessed, the latter. I stopped a couple of feet or so in front of her gazing at her lovely face and at that moment, I saw Katherine standing before me. I have cried a few times in my life. I cried over Lise and I cried over Katherine. Now, I struggled to hold back the tears as I looked at the vision standing before me.

Suddenly and without warning, she launched herself at me. She was very quick, far too quick for me to realise what she was doing. She wrapped her legs around my hips and her arms around my neck. Then she buried her face into my shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably. I was completely taken by surprise and stood for a moment with my arms akimbo. Then I slowly closed my arms around her waist and held her tight as she continued to cry on my shoulder.

Eventually she stopped crying and unwrapped her legs from around my hips placing her feet back onto the ground. But her arms remained around my neck and I could hear her sniffling on my shoulder as her tears subsided. She remained that way for many minutes, as though fearful that if she let me go I would disappear again. I could sense all the eyes watching me from the stoop. I dare not push her away, I could not let her feel unwanted again. I wasn’t sure if I should speak or wait for her to say something. Finally, I broke the silence.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, ‘I was wrong to leave you and I have regretted it. I was so scared that something bad would happen to you if I stayed.’

‘I hated you for leaving,’ she said between sobs. ‘You have no idea how much I needed you to help me through. You didn’t even turn to look at me as you rode away. I have never forgotten that day and never will. After losing my mom and then you walking out on me, I thought my life had ended. I thought I would never see you again and after a while, I never wanted to.’

She stepped back and stood looking down and wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand.

‘If I could go back and do things differently, I would. Leaving you was the cruellest decision I have ever made. I thought I was doing it for the right reason, but now I see I was wrong. I know I have no right to ask you to forgive me Lia, but at the time, I thought I was saving you from the bad things that happen to people I love.’

‘I was ready to kill myself. I would have too if I could have found the means.’

‘Oh god!’ I gasped. ‘What did I do?’

‘Don’t worry Danny, grandpa stood in for you and helped me through the bad times. But it was so hard for me and I made it even harder for Grandma and Grandpa.’

She said that with venom dripping from her words. She had come to look upon me as the father she never had and instead of treating her like a daughter, I ground her heart into the dirt and left her a small, broken, eleven year old girl, to pick up the pieces while I rode away without a glance over my shoulder. Emmet had understood exactly what I could not and I realised, how it was always my lack of understanding that became my downfall.

‘Why did you come back Danny?’ she said quietly.

‘I came to see you Lia. I needed to see you again and to find out if you could forgive me for what I did.’

‘I could never forgive you for that and I don’t think I ever will. Anyway, it looked, to me just now, as though you were about to leave again without seeing me.’

‘We thought it would be best that you didn’t see me. I was told that you had not forgiven me and that it would only hurt you if you saw me. I was going for your sake.’

‘So you were going to run out on me again?’

Once more, it seemed that I had been about to do the wrong thing for what I had thought was the right reason.

‘You were going for my sake last time you abandoned me, what’s different?’

All I could do was apologise.

‘I am so sorry Lia. I know you cannot forgive but I beg you not to hate me.’

‘I don’t hate you Danny, I still think of you as my daddy and I was both shocked and thrilled when I saw you here. No matter what I said to Grandpa and the others, I always prayed that you would come back.’

In all my life I have never breathed a bigger sigh of relief than I did at that moment. It was as though I had been holding my breath and was finally allowed to exhale.

She giggled at that and then treated me to a wonderful smile that lit up her lovely, tear stained face and once again I saw Katherine. Then she came to me and hugged me once more before turning to the waiting audience.

‘Hi Grandma and Grandpa,’ she called brightly, ‘I’m home.’

Emmet helped Rose to climb down the steps and they both embraced their granddaughter.

‘Welcome home child,’ she said brightly. ‘Does this mean that you have forgiven Daniel?’

‘No Grandma it doesn’t, but you can’t help who you love.’

Rose looked at me and I smiled sadly, then shrugged. I could just about live with her not forgiving me. But at least she didn’t hate me, I wouldn’t be able to stand that.

Thomas came round the buckboard and took my hand in his firm grip before shaking it vigorously.

‘Good to see you again boy,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘I just hope you aint gonna leave her in the same state as before.’

‘I learned my lesson Thomas,’ I said ruefully. ‘I will never purposely, hurt her again.’

Suddenly Rose called out.

‘Come on everybody,’ she called enthusiastically. ‘Back inside, the chores can keep for an hour or so we have some introducing and some making up to do.’

As we went back inside, I noticed Amelia eying Chameli and Emily with suspicion and I hoped that there would be no bad blood between them.

I sat down at the table and Amelia, immediately, stood behind my chair and draped her arms over my shoulders.

‘I can’t believe you are here,’ she whispered. ‘This is the best day I’ve had since you left.’

I wasn’t sure if that made me feel good or bad for not having been here for her, when every day could have been the best day for both of us. I squeezed her hand before speaking.

‘Amelia,’ I said carefully. ‘This is a friend of mine Chameli and that is her daughter Emily.’

I indicated to them both as I spoke.

‘Hello Chameli,’ she said brightly. ‘Hi Emily.’

Emily returned her greeting with another “Hi” She spoke quietly and was barely audible.

Chameli answered her brightly.

‘Hello Amelia,’ she enthused. ‘It is so nice to meet you. If your mother looked like you do, she must have been very beautiful.’

Amelia blushed and smiled at the impressive looking Chameli.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

Suddenly everybody was talking at once and laughing with each other. The atmosphere became light and happy and I felt that I would love to have stayed there with all the folks I was so fond of and forget about Singer and what he had done to my family. Then, in the next instance, I knew I would never rest while he was still alive. Sooner or later I would go after him, but for the time being, I meant to enjoy being in the bosom of my family. I loved these people and it was a pleasure to be around them, even Thomas.

Somehow, Chameli had separated Amelia from the rest of us and she and Emily were chatting to her like old friends. All three of them were laughing and talking as though they had known each other for years. Chameli could make friends with a bear with a toothache if she set her mind to it.

After a while, Amelia looked over at me and spoke.

‘You are staying aren’t you Danny?’ She asked anxiously.

I looked at Chameli who barely perceptively, nodded her head and smiled.

‘Yes Lia, I am not going anywhere if Emmet will allow me to stay.’

‘There’s plenty of work needs doing around the place Daniel,’ he said. ‘We were going to have to hire somebody to help out, but if you are willing, you can carry on where you left off.’

‘There’s room for Chameli and Emily too if they share a room,’ cut in Rose.

Chameli treated the old woman to one of her most disarming smiles.

‘Why thank you Rose,’ she said gaily. ‘We will be sure to pull our weight around the place and earn our keep, won’t we Emily?’

Thomas and Amelia ate breakfast while Emmet tended to some of the more immediate chores. He suggested I stay and talk with Amelia for a while and catch up with the last few years. Chameli and Emily went to explore the farm and the fields beyond.

Amelia told me how she had been hard to live with after I left. She became bad tempered and rebellious for the first year and stayed in her room most of the time. She became lazy and refused to do any chores around the place.

‘After almost a year,’ she said placidly. ‘I came to my senses and realised how much I was hurting Grandma and Grandpa.’

She looked shyly at Thomas.

‘Uncle Thomas too,’ she said.

Thomas waved his hand dismissively as he scraped a chunk of homemade bread around his plate.

‘It was understandable under the circumstances,’ he said and I had a feeling he was directing his remark at me.

‘Anyway,’ she continued. ‘I went back to school in Parsons and studied hard and I tried to make up for my laziness by working hard here and it helped a lot. I found that the things on my mind were easier to bear. Grandpa said he was proud of me for growing into a “caring young woman,” his words.’

‘They were spoken in truth and accuracy,’ Thomas put in. ‘Amelia has become a fine and caring young lady.’

She looked down coyly.

‘Aw, thank you Uncle Thomas,’ she said shyly.

He grunted and carried on eating.

After they had finished eating we all went outside, Thomas to unload the buckboard and Amelia and me to look round the farm. We strolled around the fields of corn and maize talking.

‘Why is that woman with you Danny?’ she asked suddenly. ‘Are you sweethearts?’

I smiled at her candour.

‘No honey,’ I smiled. ‘We aren’t sweethearts. Don’t you like her?’

‘Yes she is very friendly and very beautiful and her daughter Emily is nice as well.’

‘So you don’t mind them staying here with me?’

‘No of course not, I just wondered why you are with her is all.’

‘Well,’ I replied. ‘You remember your mom and me telling you about my friend and her daughters who were kidnapped by the Indians?’

‘Yes, is that her?’

‘No,’ I said sadly. ‘But she thinks she could help me find them.’

‘So you are going to leave again?’

‘I will never leave you again Lia, I will stay here with you as long as you want me to. I would never want to hurt you again.’

‘So are you finally, going to be a dad to me?’

‘If you’ll have me.’

She turned and hugged me.

‘I was so thrilled when you married my mom and became my real dad Danny. You just cannot imagine how much it hurt when you left. It was the worse pain I have ever known to lose my mom. But then to lose you as well just when I needed a father to help me through was just too much for me, I was only a child’ can you imagine what that was like for one so young?’

‘Well, I have been given a damned good idea and it has opened my eyes to how cruel I have been. If I were you, I wouldn’t forgive me either.’

She gave me a final squeeze and then released me and we carried on walking.

‘Maybe I will one day Danny, but you need to be on your best behaviour. At least you are here now.’

We walked in silence for a while. It was a beautiful day and we could hear birds singing all around while butterflies and bees flitted around the blossoms and wild flowers. Eventually, Amelia spoke.

‘Your friend has a lovely name,’ she smiled.

‘Yes, it’s a Cheyenne name, it means flower. She was raised by the Cheyenne from an early age, which is why she thinks she could help me to find Sarah and the girls.’

‘She seems to be very well educated and she has an English accent, she talks as though she comes from aristocracy.’

You should hear her cuss, I thought, but I didn’t want to spoil the illusion.

‘She was educated by an English woman who lived with the tribe. She took Chameli under her wing and taught her everything she knew. It wasn’t difficult, because from what I could tell, Chameli had an enormous thirst for knowledge and a huge capacity for learning.’

‘She isn’t a Cheyenne though is she? She doesn’t look like an Indian.’

I grinned, I didn’t want to appear to Amelia to be too knowledgeable about Chameli’s life.

‘Well, from what she has told me, her grandfather was a Cheyenne chief who married a European woman. So her mother was half Cheyenne and half European. She was traded to a Mexican gun runner who was killed not long afterward, by Mexican soldiers. By then, Chameli’s mother was pregnant and she returned to the Cheyenne to have the child and that is why Chameli was raised by the Cheyenne Indians. So really, she is only part Cheyenne although she is proud to consider herself to be one of them.’

‘She talks and acts like a high born lady, and she is so easy to talk to. Within minutes of speaking to her, I found myself telling her all about my mother and you and our life here together. She makes you feel as though you have known her all your life and can tell her anything in confidence.’

Yup, I thought, that’s Chameli. She can also ride and shoot and swear as well as any man. She could also kill as easily as the worse killer in the west if she needed to.

‘Yes, I agreed. ‘She is a very charming lady.’

‘She is also very beautiful,’ she giggled. ‘As I am sure you have noticed.’

‘Almost as beautiful as your mother,’ I responded. Then continued, ‘and you.’

She smiles brightly at my compliment.

‘What about Emily,’ she asked. ‘She looks nothing like her.’

‘She is adopted. Chameli took her from a dying Indian, who, with a hunting party, had slain her family. She was just seven years old then and Chameli has cared for her ever since.’

‘She seems very nice,’ said Amelia sadly. ‘Such a shame about her family.’

‘She is nice, I hope you can both become friends. It would be good for both of you to have someone close to your own ages to talk to.’

‘I’ll try,’ was all she answered.

The following nine months were probably the happiest months I had known since Katherine died. I found myself enjoying farming again, even though at times, all I wanted to do was sleep after long, back breaking hours toiling in the fields. I learned about sheep and pigs as did Chameli and Emily. Neither of them shirked their chores and their willingness to help out with any task no matter how menial, impressed both Rose and Emmet, as well as Thomas. Me too truth be known.

Amelia and Emily hardly left each other’s side. They were constant companions and could often be found in secret spots conspiring together, or racing each other for miles on horseback.’ They were both very accomplished and impressive horsewomen. They both went to school in Parsons twice a week, accompanied by either Emmet, Thomas or me on the nearly, two hour journey to town. Usually Thomas, as he had another interest in Parsons. Chameli would go along too whenever it was me who took the girls to school. It was then that we had a chance to talk during the time the girls were in school or when Chameli wasn’t in the emporium shopping.

One day, she asked what I was going to do about Singer.

‘I honestly don’t know,’ I replied. ‘That’s the truth of it. I have thought long and hard and I am no nearer knowing what to do.’

‘Andrew,’ she said. ‘You are happier now, than at any time since I have known you.’

‘Yes I am,’ I replied. ‘What about you? Isn’t there somewhere you would rather be? I am sure, living on a farm wasn’t at the top of your priorities.’

‘As long as I am with you Andrew and I have Emily, I don’t mind what I do or where I live.’

I looked long and hard at her, my mind in turmoil.

‘I just do not understand your thinking,’ I said solemnly. ‘You want to be with me, yet you do not love me and you do not want me to get close to you. What the hell do you want from me Chameli?’

‘I just want to be with you, we were destined to be together.’

‘Yes, so you keep reminding me, but what if I found another woman and wanted to marry her?’

She looked pained and a frown furrowed her brow.

‘You wouldn’t do that to me Andrew.’

‘Well what about you? You are beautiful, one day you might fall in love and get married. You won’t want me then.’

‘As long as we are both alive, I will never leave your side Andrew. You are the only man I want in my life.’

I groaned in frustration.

‘Then why? Why are you tormenting me? As long as you are near me I am going to desire you. Yet you have no desire to be closer to me than a mere companion. Wouldn’t you like to have children one day?’

The fleeting expression that crossed her lovely face at that moment, was one of deep pain an emotion I had never seen her reveal before. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, disguised by her enigmatic smile. But I had seen the pain in her face and I detected that something far more than anything physical, was troubling her.

‘I have Emily,’ she said brightly. ‘Why would I need any more children? She is quite enough for any mother.’

I let it go. But I had come to realise in that moment, that I wasn’t hurting nearly as much as she was for she hadn’t been quick enough to hide the pain that I had fleetingly, seen in her eyes.

‘Ok,’ I said. ‘But it would be easier on both of us if I knew why you act this way. All I want is to understand. I would think no less of you no matter what.’

‘One day, you will understand why Andrew, I promise. All I ask is that you give me time.’

I guess that was the best I could hope for.

We were waiting with the buckboard when the giggling girls left the school house arm in arm and approached us. Only one thing could make life better than this, I thought. Maybe two if I counted killing Singer.

Chameli could already, cook basic fare before she came to the farm. But since she had been there, she had been taught by Rose, how to make the most delicious, beef pies, as well as ones made from pork, chicken and lamb. She quickly learned how to bake bread made from wheat flower as well as corn bread. Her apple pies were the most delicious I had ever tasted and even Rose conceded defeat when comparing apple pies. We ate well that was for sure and because the farm was, mainly, self-sufficient, we wanted for little regarding food. Amelia had taught Emily how to milk goats and the few cows the farm had. From the milk yield, the two girls made delicious cheeses, as well as butter and cream. Rose was mainly, confined to the house because of the, increasingly painful stiffness in her joints. But Chameli would often bully her into strolling, with her help, around the vegetable plot and at least part way into the fields. Far from making her joints worse, those little excursions seemed to ease the stiffness for a short while at least. Thomas brought his lady friend back to the farm for a visit after one of his excursions to town. She was a very attractive and pleasant woman who I would say, was in her mid-forties, a good fifteen to twenty years younger than Thomas, unless he was younger than he looked, for he never gave his age away. She was a widow who had lost her husband in the war. She immediately came under Chameli’s spell and was soon chatting to her like an old friend oblivious to everyone else around the place, including Thomas.

One day, Rose managed to get me alone by asking me to move her rocking chair to another part of the stoop while everybody had filed down the steps. When they had all gotten out of earshot, she spoke.

‘Are you going to marry Chameli Daniel?’

That took me aback for a moment. Then when I recovered my composure, I laughed.

‘No of course not Rose. We are just friends. We don’t see each other in that way at all.’

‘Oh yes you do,’ she disagreed. ‘I have watched you both since you came here. You look at her like a love sick puppy and she cannot keep her eyes off you. She is watching your every move like a hawk and she never passes up a moment to be near you.’

‘You are mistaken Rose, she doesn’t see me in any other way than as a friend.’

‘Yet you are madly in love with her I can see that and if you cannot see that she is smitten by you, then you are a damned fool. Do you think that nobody has noticed the way she watches you? Amelia has and even Thomas has remarked on occasion, that there is something between you. I believe Emily knows more than she lets on, but as close as they are, she won’t give anything away to Amelia.’

‘Well,’ I said hesitantly, ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you all. But good friends is all Chameli and I will ever be.’

‘Then you are giving up a chance of perfect happiness with a beautiful wife and two lovely daughters who, I know you love.’

It was true. I had become closer to Emily and was very fond of her. I wasn’t sure how Amelia would have felt about Chameli replacing Katherine as her mother, but it did not matter anyhow, for there was no chance that we would ever marry.

On another occasion, I walked into the little outhouse we had built for the cheese and butter making. We had made the interior with wooden floors and walls and they had been scrubbed spotlessly clean as had the wooden benches on which the cheese was shaped and the butter patted. The girls were busy making cheese and chattering away to each other as was usual with them and didn’t, at first, notice me enter.

‘It is so strange how we are both adopted,’ Emily was saying.

‘Yes,’ said Amelia. ‘You have no Father and I have no mother. Although, Daniel is like a father to you.’

‘Yes, but I have to tell you this, I didn’t like him when I first met him.’

‘You do now though, don’t you?’

‘Oh yes, I wish, sometimes, that he was my daddy.’

‘I love your mother, I have never ever known anybody like her. She is wonderful.’

Emily giggled. ‘Wouldn’t it be just dandy, if your dad married my mom. We could be real sisters.’

‘Oh yes,’ laughed Amelia. ‘I would love that.’

Just as she said it, she looked up and saw me standing in the doorway and she squealed loudly, which scared Emily into squealing almost simultaneously because she didn’t know what Amelia was squealing for.

I laughed as they both looked at me with horrified and guilt ridden faces.

‘Did I scare you girls?’ I said brightly.

‘No, I mean yes,’ stammered Emily.

‘How long have you been standing there?’ Amelia asked accusingly.

‘I just walked in.’

They looked at each other and seeing that each had been blushing, they burst into gales of laughter, then fell into each other’s arms and began to dance around the place like crazy.

I walked out grinning. But I was concerned about the conversation I had overheard. Even Amelia and Emily hoped that I would marry Chameli. I began to wonder if marriage was what Chameli wanted too and my hopes began to rise. The next time we took the girls to town, I asked her.

‘What if we were to get married?’ I asked sheepishly.

‘Why Andrew,’ she cooed using my real name. ‘Are you proposing to me?’

I must have blushed under her scrutiny, for she giggled merrily at my discomfort.

‘All I want to know is, would you marry me if I asked you?’

‘Well the way to find the answer to that is to ask me.’

I stared at her, she had a way of making me feel foolish and very uncomfortable. Finally, I gulped and swallowed my bashfulness.

‘Ok then, will you marry me?’ I asked gruffly.

‘Oh Andrew,’ she cried. ‘I would like nothing better than to be your wife. You see, we were meant to be together and now we can make it legal. The girls will have a mother and father and you will have what your heart has desired for so long...me.’

I sighed.

‘Does that mean I can kiss you?’ I said reaching for her.

She pulled away and fended me off.

‘No, not here Andrew, not in full view of everybody.’

We were sitting on a seat outside the general store, but hardly anybody was about and nobody was taking any notice of us anyway.

‘Is this what it’s going to be like when we are married?’ I growled. ‘Not even a kiss?’

Her happy face turned serious.

‘Just give me time Andrew, I promise you everything will be fine.’

All I wanted from her were some truthful answers, but she continued to be evasive and was always, finding ways to put me off. Nevertheless, I could not live without her, so if that was the way it had to be, so be it.

‘You realise we can’t get married until we get Singer,’ she said solemnly. ‘You will never find true satisfaction until he no longer haunts you and is languishing in the fires of hell.’

‘You are right but how can I make that long journey when I promised I would never leave Amelia again? She would hate me for the rest of her life.’

‘I’ll think of something,’ she said. ‘She won’t hate you.’

Two days later, she announced that she needed to make the journey to Coffeyville to use the telegraph there as there wasn’t one in Parsons. She asked me to go with her and keep her safe on the journey. That made me smile, if anybody needed protection, it would be whomever tried to molest her. It was around a six hour journey to Coffeyville, so we decided that by the time Chameli had finished her business and bought coffee, sugar, tea and bolts of cloth for making clothes as well as other things needed around the farm, it would be wise to make the return journey the next day. Also, Chameli needed to wait for a reply from her telegraph. This brought knowing looks all round, from the two girls as well as Rose and Emmet.

On the way to Coffeyville in the buckboard, Chameli set out her plan. She told me she would send a telegraph to Denver, with instructions to the clerk to send the very same words back to her. This would say that two white women and a girl had been found amongst a group of Cheyenne and were now in Denver Colorado.

We stayed overnight, in separate rooms of course, that went without saying. The next morning, I loaded up the supplies whilst Chameli made her way to the telegraph office to pick up her return telegraph. Then we set off on the journey back to the farm. On the way I tried once again, to get her to open up about why she wouldn’t get close to me. But once more, she evaded giving me a straight answer, preferring to make light of it as though I was imagining that there was something wrong when there wasn’t.

‘It will be worth the wait Andrew,’ she cooed. ‘Just you wait and see.’

I had the feeling that it would not be worth it. But I could put up with that if only she would be truthful with me. It seemed she couldn’t bear to be without me by her side. But did not love me enough to allow me to get intimately close. Finally, I could stand it no longer.

‘Chameli,’ I pleaded. ‘I need to know why you say you want to be with me for always, yet, at the same time, you are pushing me away. Is it that you don’t really want me at all, but don’t want anybody else to have me? If that is the reason then tell me, because even if you don’t want to do, you know, what men and women do naturally, I will still want to be with you for the rest of my life. I can live without that if you don’t want me in that way.’

She didn’t speak in answer and when I looked across to where she was sitting next to me, I was taken aback with shock. She was crying, Chameli Gonzales, who despised shows of weakness, was crying great big tears. They were streaming from her beautiful eyes and rolling down her cheeks before dripping from her perfect chin onto her blouse.

I stopped the buckboard and turned to face her, holding my arms out, but expecting her, as usual, to shun my offer of an embrace. She came readily into my arms and sobbed loudly on my shoulder. I held her close, feeling the heat from her body through my clothes and the heaving of her bosom against my chest as she sobbed in my arms. We stayed that way for very many minutes, but in truth, I would have been happy to hold her that way forever. Apart from the brief embrace we had, had in the restaurant, it was the first time she had willingly, allowed me to hold her so close.

Eventually, she stopped crying but still held on to me snuffling a little occasionally on my tear stained shirt. This was a new experience for me and were it not for her obvious distress, one that I would have enjoyed immensely. Finally and once she had settled down completely, she spoke into my shirt.

‘If ever you tell anyone you saw me like this, I will kill you.’

I laughed and held her tighter, while she in turn, made no attempt to pull away from our embrace. I lost track of time as we sat together and I wondered if she had fallen to sleep in my arms, she had been still and silent for so long; we both had. I realised though, she must have been preparing herself for what she was about to tell me.

When she pulled away, her eyes were still wet and puffy and I could not help but grin when I saw her that way. She suddenly punched me on the shoulder with her small fist.

‘Don’t look at me,’ she yelled. ‘I don’t want you seeing me like this.’

‘You look just as beautiful as you ever did,’ I said. ‘Even puffy, wet eyes cannot change that.’

She smiled sadly, then placed her small, soft hand on mine and I curled my fingers around it and squeezed it gently.

‘I’m going to tell you the truth Andrew,’ she said sadly.

My heart began beating harder. Now that the truth was about to be revealed, I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it. What if she told me she had just been using me and didn’t really want me at all? It would, maybe, be me sobbing on her shoulder in that case. I pictured me crying on Chameli’s shoulder and smiled ruefully, it was a ludicrous idea.

I gazed at her as she wiped her eyes with her hand, waiting patiently for her to speak.

‘I have treated you badly Andrew,’ she murmured. ‘Ever since we met, I just took you for granted and you went along with it most of the time. In the early years, I did it just to see how far I could push you before you snapped. Pretty far I have to say.’

I couldn’t argue with that, I came close to leaving her to die on a couple of occasions because of her ornery stubbornness.

‘When you came out of prison, it was different. I had missed you like crazy and wrote countless letters to the prison to keep a check on you and to make sure you were ok.’

‘You did that?’ I gasped. ‘Why didn’t you write to me personally?’

‘I didn’t want you to know that I cared?’

As long as I live I would never be able to figure her out. I simply sighed and allowed her to carry on.

‘The prison assured me that you wouldn’t get to know about the letters if I did not want you to. So I was able to keep a check on you without you knowing. It was the prison that let me know your date of release.’

‘I always wondered how you could have known the exact date to be waiting outside jail.’

‘Well, anyway, I just wanted to clear that up. Now the reason I push you away so much.’

The tears began to well up in her eyes once more and I squeezed her hand reassuringly.

‘You don’t have to tell me now if it is going to cause you so much pain,’ I said softly.

‘I do Andrew, I have hurt you so much and now you need to know the reason why. What better place than here where we are alone, where there is nobody to hear what I have to tell you, and what better time than now, when I have prepared myself to pour my heart out to you and hope you will forgive me.’

I was full of trepidation about what she was preparing to tell me. What could be so bad that she found it so difficult to allow herself to get close to me?

‘Do you really want to tell me? For as much as I am desperate to know. I would prefer that you didn’t have to put yourself through so much pain.’

‘No, I don’t want to tell you Andrew, but I am going to because you deserve to know. Then you will either push me away forever or forgive me.’

Of all the things she has put me through over the years, I have never known her to consider my forgiveness. On the contrary, she always put everything down to it being my own fault when circumstances turned out bad for me. So I could not figure out what she had done that was so bad that it needed my forgiveness, or worse, that I would consider leaving her.

‘I don’t know where to start,’ she said quietly.

‘I guess the beginning would be a good place,’ I answered, then gave her a reassuring smile.

She inhaled deeply.

‘Well the beginning is when you found me. I have no doubt, despite what I said to the contrary that if you had not done what you did for me, I would have died there where those men left me.’

I gaped at her. If she was so willing to admit I saved her life, then this was serious.

‘I have always known I owed you my life Andrew,’ she continued. ‘But I was never prepared to admit it. Sometimes, I wish I had died there, if I had, I would not now, be going through so much turmoil and I wouldn’t be about to hurt you so much.’

‘The best thing I ever did in my life was to cut you free and help you back to health. I mean that with all my heart.’

She laughed humourlessly.

‘That is so ironic what you just said Andrew

‘What did I say?’

‘Helping me back to health,’

‘Well, I know you weren’t fully recovered, but you were well on the way.’

‘You don’t know how far from the truth you are.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘When you found me, what you saw was a young girl who had been tied down, raped and cut up. But still alive, even though I had been humiliated and defiled. But what you don’t know, is that I never fully recovered from what they did to me.’

‘I didn’t realise, I am so sorry if it has lived with you all this time. Is that why you have been the way you have?’

‘I wish it were that simple.’

‘Then what?’

‘I wasn’t just raped Andrew, I could live with that.’

All I could think of to say, was, ‘Oh!’

‘When they had finished having their pleasure, they decided that I hadn’t been tortured enough and I don’t mean cutting me with knives and covering me with, you know what. They used things on me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Andrew, this very hard for me as it is, please don’t make me have to explain it to you.’

‘Oh,’ I said again, although I still did not know what she meant.

She must have realised my confusion, because she let out a big sigh, then continued.

‘They used the barrels of their rifles on me.’

I inwardly cursed myself for the insensitive fool I was as it slowly dawned on me what she was talking about.

‘Oh lord,’ I gasped as I looked into her swollen eyes still brimming with tears.

‘They damaged me internally Andrew,’ she wailed. ‘I am no longer a complete woman and I will never have babies.’

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, then I placed the palm of my hand on the back of her head and pressed her face to my shoulder.

‘We don’t need to have any more children,’ I whispered. ‘We have the two girls and they are enough for anybody.’

This brought on another bout of sobbing.

‘You don’t understand Andrew,’ she cried between sobs.

‘I understand that you would like to have had babies, most women do. But with my help, you can get over that. We already have a wonderful family, let’s be thankful for small mercies.’

Her wailing got louder and I pulled her closer. She was sobbing so uncontrollably that she couldn’t speak even though she tried several times to tell me something. Then she made a final effort before breaking down and shedding every tear she must have had left.

‘Andrew, I have been damaged in such a way that I can never be with a man in that way. You will never make love to me Andrew, ever.’

Now I knew. This was the secret she had kept from me all this time. I remembered what Consuelo had told me about her being damaged, but I had never really comprehended what she meant at that time. This was the reason she had never embraced me or given me any kind of encouragement. She knew I could become aroused and that, there would be no real satisfaction for me and nothing but emptiness for her.

‘When did you plan to tell me?’ I asked quietly. ‘Before we were married? Or was I meant to find out for myself afterwards?’

She was crying softly on my shoulder now and I felt her back tense at my insensitive remark and I would have, gladly, cut out my own tongue rather than having spoken those words. It must have been the most difficult thing she had ever had to do to tell me those things. Yet if I had taken an axe to her, I could not have cut her more deeply.

‘I didn’t mean that Chameli,’ I stammered. ‘Believe me if I could take it back I would.’

‘You meant it,’ she sniffled. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t have said it.’

I thought about what she said before responding.

‘You are right, I did mean it. I meant the question, but whatever the answer, it would make not a cent’s worth of difference as to how I feel about you. I cannot help loving you. I cannot help needing you near me, I cannot help the feeling that if ever we parted I would feel that you had ripped out my heart and taken it with you. Because wherever you go, my heart will go. I still want to marry you Chameli. Just having you in my life is enough.’

She lifted her head from my shoulder and looked at me through the mist of her tears in eyes that were so puffed up, they had all but disappeared.

‘Do you mean that Andrew?’ she whispered.

‘I have never been more serious in my life. I would be no good without you and as soon as we get back from our meeting with Jim Singer, we will get married and we will be happy, I promise. You are as much woman as I could possibly handle anyway, without the bedroom antics adding to the fire’

‘Are you sure Andrew? If we are married it will never be consummated, it will never be a marriage in the true sense of the word.’

‘Like I said, I could not live without you and anyway, I need to be married to you for another reason.’

‘Oh?’ she said. ‘What’s that?’

‘Well, we may not be able to do it, but, at least, I will be able to, legally, see you naked again.’

She slapped me then giggled before throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me full on the lips. That was another first. In all the time I had known her, we had never had a real kiss and it felt wonderful, even with the salty taste of her tears.

I had mixed feelings on the way back to the farm. I was elated that we were to be married and I would get to spend my life with Chameli. But I was devastated that we would never truly, make love, not just for me, but for her too. I needed to convince her that, to me, she was all woman and that what had happened to her was not her fault. I had just witnessed a side of her I never thought I would see. Her vulnerability had come as a devastating shock and was in total contrast to the strong, self-assured young woman I thought I knew. She had, obviously been nursing her secret for years and had hidden her misery so well behind her confident exterior. All the time she had been with me, and Emily too, for I had no doubt that she did not know either, she had been hurting inside and had covered her pain so well. I vowed to myself that I would find a way somehow, to convince her that to me, she was everything and she was a perfect woman in every way. I was happy just to be with her for the rest of our lives.

We were still well over a half mile from the farm when we saw the dust of horses approaching at the gallop. Amelia and Emily of course, racing each other at breakneck speed to see who would reach us first. I stopped the buckboard and whooped as they sped by on either side, before wheeling their horses to come racing back and finally, both coming to a dead stop in clouds of dust.

They both jumped down from their mounts in gales of laughter, before rushing to Chameli and me and giving us both hugs in turn. I felt enormously proud of both girls and I was elated that my fears about them not hitting it off had been so unfounded, I doubted that they could have gotten any closer if they had been real sisters.

We set off again at a steady walk with the two girls riding either side of the buckboard. They were both bombarding us with questions about our trip and our stay in Coffeyville, many of them downright embarrassing, at least for me. Chameli didn’t appear to be bothered and answered any questions directed her way with honesty and alacrity while I on the other hand, found that some of their questions made me squirm. This only served to cause the girls to giggle at my obvious discomfort.

Just before we arrived at the farm, I stopped the buckboard and bade the girls dismount as Chameli and I wanted to talk to them alone. They shot each other knowing glances and smirked, before both throwing a leg over the pommel and leaping down from their saddles.

‘They watched us intently waiting for one of us to speak and once more, I squirmed under their scrutiny.

‘Well,’ I began nervously. ‘How would you feel about Chameli and me getting married?’

They both let out ear splitting screams and fell into each other’s arms giggling loudly and dancing around the area causing clouds of dust to rise from their stomping feet. Finally they came to a halt, each becoming serious and looking at us sternly.

‘Do you promise to look after my mom and treat her with kindness and respect Danny?’ Said Emily seriously.

‘Um, yes of course I do,’ I stammered.

‘Then you can have my mom’s hand in marriage as long as it is ok with Lia.’

Chameli laughed gaily at Emily’s show of taking over the responsibility for her.

‘Do you Chameli, promise to honour and obey my dad for as long as you both shall live?’ Said Amelia Solemnly.’

‘Well,’ answered Chameli. ‘I will surely honour him, but I cannot promise to always, obey.’

‘That’s close enough,’ chuckled Amelia. ‘You can have him with my blessing.’

‘Well thanks for that,’ I said with false glumness.

The three females laughed together as they all looked at me and I wondered what I was about to get into. I found it difficult to deal with one woman let alone three. I had a feeling that I was about to be outflanked, outtalked, outmanoeuvred and outnumbered by three chattering and often, devious females, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Both girls leapt aboard their horses and galloped away to the farm, no doubt to tell everybody the good news.

When Chameli and I finally arrived in the yard, the news had already been spread, because Rose was waiting for us on the stoop while the girls had gone off to find Emmet and Thomas.

‘You see Daniel,’ said Rose pompously. ‘Didn’t I tell you that you that there was something between you two? I could see it with my own eyes the way you watched each other’s every move. It was obvious to anybody who had an eye in his head that you love each other.’

She cackled happily as she watched my discomfort. Chameli though, simply laughed along with her.

‘I’ll unload these provisions and unhitch the team,’ I mumbled self-consciously.

Later on at supper, Emmet and Thomas congratulated us and Emmet brought up some beers from the spring and after a couple, I felt a little bit more confident about telling the girls about Chameli and me making the trip to Denver. Chameli showed them the telegraph wire about two women and a girl being traded by the Cheyenne’

‘We think it could be Rachael and her daughters,’ I explained. ‘Sarah would be around twenty years old now, so two women and one child sounds about right. I won’t be able to rest easy if I don’t, at least try to find out if it them.’

‘What will you do if it is them?’ said Amelia bitterly. ‘Leave me again and go off with them?’

‘That isn’t fair Lia,’ I protested. ‘I owe it to them to try and find them. Rachael and I were never close in that way. It was just an arrangement we had. You are my family and always will be and anyway, Chameli is going to be your mom and Emily your sister. I want to Marry Chameli and make us all into a family. So why would I go away and leave you?’ If you don’t want me to go, I won’t. I will never do anything to hurt you again. But it will just be a couple of weeks out of a life time. When I have found out if it is her, I can get her back to the farm in Missouri and settled with the girls, then Chameli and I will come home to you and Emily and we can settle down as a real family. If I do not go, I will be forever wondering if it was them.’

‘What if I said I don’t want you to go?’

‘Then I will not go and we will say no more about it. After what I did to you before, I don’t have the right to demand that I go. I will stay and things will go on pretty much as before and I will never ever feel that you put me under pressure to stay and I never want you to feel that way either.’

‘You know I can’t tell you not go Danny. I would have it on my conscience if I asked you to abandon those poor women. Don’t stay away too long though because now I have you back I don’t want to lose you again. Emily and I are going to miss you both like heck until you return.’

Emily nodded her assent and took Chameli’s hand in hers.

‘I promise you’ we will stay away no longer than is necessary Lia.’

‘You had better not,’ she said pulling a wry face at me.

Emily laughed and then all four of us hugged as a group.

‘We will get an early start in the morning,’ I said evenly. ‘The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back and get on with our lives.’

TWENTY-THREE

Less than a week later we were in Denver Colorado. The horses we had left at the livery months earlier had been sold on my instructions by telegraph at an earlier date. So when we contacted the livery, we managed to do a deal for the hire of two good mounts, a Sorrel and a bay. They were good, sturdy horses and would serve us well for the short journey to our destination.

We set off immediately for Cheyenne and once there, Chameli went off to find a hotel while I liveried the horses. I joined her later at the hotel to be surprised yet again, by her unpredictability. She had booked a single room for us both and I couldn’t help but look shocked when she told me with a broad smile on her lovely face and then led me to our room.

‘Why, after all this time of pushing me away?’ I asked quietly.

‘I never wanted to push you away Andrew. I was ashamed because of my condition. I didn’t want you to find out about me at an inopportune time. Now that you know, we can at least, sleep together and be in each other’s arms all night.’

‘That is the most I ever could have wished for. Just being close to you is good enough for me.’

‘Having you close to me is good enough for me too, Andrew. But I fear that sometime in the future, just holding each other won’t be enough for you.’

‘Chameli, I want more now, never mind in the future. But if I had to choose, I would choose to go without any of that as long as I had you by my side for the rest of our lives.’

She came to me and melted into my arms. For such an active and strong woman, she was surprisingly soft. Her body seemed to meld to mine as her soft curves blended with my hard body. I could feel her heat radiating through my clothing as her firm bosom heaved against my chest. I ran my hand down the curve of her back until my hand traced the rise of her buttocks over her skirt. She felt so wonderfully soft and womanly in complete contrast to the way she liked to portray herself. I placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up so that I could look into her dark eyes.

‘I love you so much Chameli,’ I whispered. ‘If I never get to hold you again, I will never forget this moment.’

She moved her face closer and brushed her warm, soft lips against mine while wrapping her arms around my neck to pull me closer. I moved an arm around her slender waist and pulled her close, then pressed my lips to hers. Her mouth was parted slighted and I allowed the tip of my tongue to taste the inside her of full, sensual lips, she moaned softly and I felt the tip of her tongue meet mine as we embraced, our bodies moving together as one. I was aroused and she knew it. I worried that she would feel guilty or inadequate, in that she would be unable to satisfy me and I began to pull away from her simply to spare her feelings. I need not have worried, she fell onto the bed pulling me with her and once more locked her lips to mine.

The next morning we awoke beneath the blanket, still in a full embrace with our arms and legs entwined. We were both naked, having enjoyed each other’s bodies for most of the night. Chameli was nothing if not versatile. She had showed me that there was more than one way to skin a cat and she professed that she had enjoyed the experience just as much as I had.

At breakfast, I told her I was going alone to confront Singer. I could not and would not put her life at risk now that she was finally, mine. For the first time since I had known her she obeyed me and announced that she would wait in Cheyenne for me to return.

‘I expected more of a protest from you,’ I said in surprise. ‘What changed?’

‘We have changed Andrew,’ she said slowly. ‘I am your woman now and must do whatever you think is best, even if I do not agree with it.’

It felt good to hear her say that she was my woman if a little a strange coming from her. However, the last thing I wanted was a subdued Chameli Gonzales. I had fallen for the fiery, single minded and stubborn woman who had caused me so much trouble in the past. But also so much joy and I did not want her to change. Except for this one time when I could do what I needed to do knowing she was safe.

I mounted my horse and set out to find Singer’s ranch. I had bought a Greener, ten gauge shotgun at the Emporium and had slung it horizontally by the left hand stirrup in a buckskin scabbard. I held it in place with my left leg so that it didn’t bounce around too much with the movement of the horse, it wasn’t very comfortable riding that way, but could prove to be lifesaving. My Winchester was slung from the saddle close by my knee and the Remington Revolver was on my hip.

When I got to within less than a mile of the Ranch, I circled the place looking for somewhere I could take cover and survey the place. There was none. Singer had made sure he was situated in a place where nobody could approach without being seen. I figured by now, I had been spotted by somebody at the ranch and would be surveyed continuously as I circled it. There was nothing for it but to face the problem head on and enter the nest of vipers in the hope that I could get past a few on the way to confronting Singer.

It was a big sprawling Ranch with many outbuildings as well as the main house. As I expected the hands had seen my approach and as I neared it, I saw that six of them were spread out in front of the main house, all armed with rifles. Each of the men was holding his weapon trained on me as I closed on them. I looked around and noticed another man standing off to one side also armed with a rifle effectively putting me at a very bad disadvantage. There was no sign of Singer and I guessed he would be in the house, probably watching from a window. I wondered how many other armed men were also in the house and how the hell I was going to get to Singer through them as well as the ones here in the yard.

I stopped my horse in front of the six men and looked down on them keeping my hands in full view. They eyed me suspiciously, but none spoke.

‘Good morning,’ I said easily. ‘Is Mister Singer about?’

‘What’s your business with him?’ Asked one of the men, who by the authority in his voice, I took to be the Foreman.

I was banking on Singer not recognising me after all this time, although I was sure he would have been expecting me to turn up sooner or later and he would be suspicious of strangers.

‘I’m looking to buy some cattle and I was told in town that Mister Singer was a man who could supply me with all the cows I need.’

‘Well you must have been misinformed mister,’ he said easily. ‘We are building our herd ready for a drive and don’t plan on selling any here.’

‘Then I guess I made the journey for nothing,’ I said sounding disappointed. ‘Sorry for the inconvenience.’

I turned the horse so that its right flank was facing the men and made as though I was about to ride away, then looked again at the foreman.

‘Do you mind if I fill my canteen from your well?’ I asked easily. ‘It is going to be a thirsty journey back.’

He looked up and regarded me for a while. Then made a decision.

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘But dismount easy.’

I had noticed that the man who flanked us had lowered his rifle and the men in front of me had visibly relaxed, I guessed they figured I didn’t pose a threat after all.

I dismounted slowly so that I had the horse between us and as I did so I took hold of the shotgun by the breech with my finger on one of the triggers. At the same time, a shout came from the house and I dropped to the ground bringing the shotgun to bear on the six men from under the horse’s belly. I pulled the trigger and the recoil of the Greener slammed my side. Almost immediately, I moved the muzzle slightly and squeezed off another shot. Both barrels had discharged and I got a fleeting glimpse of all six men dropping to the ground. I quickly, dropped the shot gun and rolled over, just as a bullet slammed into the dirt where I had previously lain. I figured all six men were out of action and at least three of them dead as I pulled my Remington and rolled again, just avoiding another bullet from the remaining man’s rifle as I brought the revolver up. There were screams of agony coming from, at least, two of the men who were down, not surprising considering their hands, faces and torsos had been peppered with buckshot. I felt no remorse about shooting them. They worked for Singer and in my book, it made them bad men by association. My immediate concern was the standing man with the rifle. He had already got off two shots and was lining up a third, when I squeezed off a shot from the Remington. I saw the blood spurt from his chest as the bullet entered and he dropped to one knee before keeling over onto the ground and dropping the rifle. My horse had bolted as soon as the shooting had started, so I was left exposed. But, apart from the groaning there was no sound or movement anywhere. However, I figured if Singer was in the house, he would not be alone. I climbed carefully, to my feet and ran towards the corner of the building. If he was in the house with armed men, it would not be a good idea to go in the front door. I had left the Greener on the ground, it was useless to me now as the spare cartridges I had bought, were in the saddlebags on my horse. All I had was the revolver and I cursed my bad planning for not keeping at least, a couple of shotgun cartridges about my person. The Remington would have to do, I figured I could be pretty effective with it anyhow, if it came to another shootout.

I made my way down the side of the building and found an open window. I immediately became suspicious of a possible trap, but I was anxious to get to Singer and figured that with caution, I could get by without being ambushed. I looked around, before parting the curtains that were hanging down inside the open window. Then, as I cautiously poked my head between the curtains, something crashed down on my head.

I came to lying on my back on the ground with a noose round my neck. Before I could get my bearings, the rope attached to the noose became taught and I was dragged along the ground for a short distance and as the noose tightened around my neck and throat, I felt myself choking. I reached up and behind my head to grasp the rope and try to ease the tightness just as the horse that was pulling me stopped. I pushed my fingers under the rope around my neck to loosen it just enough to get my breath. I looked up at three men looking down at me all grinning at my plight. I turned my head to see two more men off to my left. My head felt as though it had been split open so intense was the pain and I could feel where blood had trickled down onto my eyelid making it sticky. I tasted blood in my mouth as I licked my lips with my tongue.

‘I almost didn’t recognise you Hanson,’ came a raspy voice on my right.

I turned my head in that direction as best I could. He was sitting in a wheelchair looking down at me and I was shocked at his appearance. He was unrecognisable from the big, strong gunfighter I had known. Now he was frail looking and gaunt. He was practically bald with wisps of grey hair hanging down from his scalp.

‘Take a good look boy,’ he wheezed. ‘You did this to me and I want you to remember how I look when you are choking to death on the end of that rope as my man drags you all over the prairie.’

‘Well that does my heart good Singer,’ I gasped. ‘Anything I can do to make your suffering worse makes it all worthwhile.’

He scowled, then went into a fit of coughing before answering.

‘We’ll see how smart mouthed you are later Hanson. This aint gonna be a quick death for you boy. Dragging you round by your neck is just the start.’

‘Well, as long as I have breath in my body Singer, I am in with a chance of finishing you, so you might be wise to finish me while you have the chance.’

He laughed a humourless raspy sound.

‘You aint gonna have it that easy Hanson,’ he wheezed. ‘You gonna suffer the way you made me suffer, this is only the start of it.’

He gave instructions to the rider and the noose around my neck tightened as the horse lurched forward. I grabbed the rope behind my head as I was dragged away and as the horse gained speed I bounced around behind it trying to hold on to the rope and keep the noose around my neck from choking me to death. I could feel the stones and rocks cutting into my body as I was dragged over them and my breathing became more difficult as each time I lurched, I lost some of my grip on the rope and it tightened more around my neck. I had no idea of the direction the horse was taking me and I didn’t know how long it lasted, but I must have lost consciousness, because the next thing I knew, was water being splashed into my face and I became aware again of Singer and his men looking down at me. I ached all over, but I was damned if I would give him the satisfaction of seeing that I was hurting. I looked up and grinned at Singer.

‘No matter what you do to me old man, you will never make me grovel.’

‘We’ll see about that when I have done to you what you did to Billy.’

I was scared, there was no doubt about that. Dying was one thing, but torturing me the way I had tortured Billy was something I wasn’t prepared for. There was no way out for me but I was damned if I would give Singer the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

Singer called out in his rasping voice.

‘Take this bastard for another ride on the prairie Luke, but don’t kill him. I want him to be conscious when we do what we gotta do and I want him aware of what’s happening.’

The horse lurched forward but this time I had grabbed at the rope behind me while Singer was talking. My hands were already rope burned from the previous time, so the pain in them as I hung on was immense. Once more I was bounced along over loose stones and prairie grass as the horse hauled me behind it. Each time I hit a rise in the ground, I bounced into the air and lost just a little of my grip on the rope, allowing it to tighten a bit more on my rope burned throat. The journey seemed never ending and my restricted breathing was making me lapse into near unconsciousness. I thought maybe it would be better to just let go of the rope and choke to death, it would be all over then. But I thought of Amelia and Emily, then of course, my beautiful Chameli and my sense of survival took over and with it, the thought that as long as I was alive, there was still a chance of getting to Singer.

At that moment, what appeared to be the sound of gunfire rang out, but in my disoriented state, I dismissed it until in my peripheral vision, I thought I saw the body of a man rolling along as I passed. The horse was slowing and I realised that its rider had been the body I saw. Now without a rider to urge it on and the weight of me as a burden it was definitely slowing.

Then, for a moment, I saw her as she rode past me, like a vision of beauty and grace. Her buckskin skirt pulled up high on her beautiful golden brown thighs as they gripped the flanks of the saddleless horse Indian style. Her moccasin covered heels digging into its flanks and urging it on as she leaned forward over its neck with her long mane of black hair flowing behind her. In my disoriented state of mind what I saw was a beautiful demon riding a demonic horse with fire shooting from its hooves each time they struck the ground. But I knew that it was no demon, it was an angel coming to save me and her name was Chameli Gonzales.

She brought the horse that had been dragging me to a halt and was almost immediately, by my side. She pulled a knife from a sheath on her hip and sliced through the rope, then slackened the noose and removed it from my neck.

‘You don’t look so good,’ she said. ‘I can’t trust you to do anything on your own.’

I tried to speak but the rope had, temporarily damaged my vocal chords, so all I could do was make a rasping sound.

‘Don’t try to speak,’ she said gently. ‘Do you think you can ride?’

I nodded my head.

‘Come on then, you must hurry, they will be coming soon.’

She helped me to struggle to Luke’s horse and held it steady while I mounted.

‘Can you hang on?’ She asked with concern in her voice.

I nodded and held onto the horn with both hands while she threw herself up easily, onto the back of her horse. She took the reins of the horse I was trying to hang onto and moved on with me in tow. I realised that Singer’s men would be coming after us pretty soon. But it was pure agony trying to hang on to the galloping horse in my injured state, as Chameli led us on.

After what seemed like an age, but was probably only minutes, she reined us in. Then came to help me down. We were near a small hillock that didn’t offer much cover, but she obviously thought it was good enough for her purposes as she helped me to sit down behind the hillock.

‘This will do,’ she said lightly. Then brought the horses and hobbled them off to one side. It was then, that I noticed that she had brought along another horse that she had obviously left here while she rode her horse to rescue me. I figured she had brought it with her just in case I lost my mount. She brought Luke’s rifle and placed it by my side before unloading another rifle from the spare horse. It was a Sharps buffalo gun that in the right hands, could be accurate up to half a mile away. Now I figured out her reasoning. She would wait until they were not quite close enough to be accurate but were well within range of the Sharps. That is provided she was up to handling a gun that size.

While we waited, she tended my wounds as best she could and allowed me to drink from her canteen of water, which made my sore throat feel a little better. The palms of my hands and fingers were skinned and burned but I was sure I would still be able to use the rifle. My clothing was in tatters, my back and buttocks were covered in cuts and abrasions and I had a bad rope burn on my neck, but all considered, I felt that I hadn’t come out of it too badly.

We saw the dust rising about three miles or more, away as they came after us. Chameli appeared completely unconcerned as she tended my wounds with some cloth she had torn from her shirt and some water from the canteen. Occasionally, she glanced up to gauge the distance they were from our position. Eventually, she took the saddle she had removed from my horse and placed it on top of the hillock, after which, she laid the Sharps on top of the saddle and then, lying on her stomach, she squinted through the back site before adjusting it with her fingers. I watched her getting ready and could not help but admire her shapely body as she lay and wriggled herself into position. At last she was ready and lay perfectly still as she squinted through the back and foresights. She took a deep breath and held it as she slowly squeezed the trigger. The recoil pushed her back and I stared across the plains at the bunch of riders about a quarter of a mile away. It seemed like many seconds before one of them fell from his horse and the others pulled up their mounts. Chameli wasn’t even looking, she was busy reloading the Sharps, after which, she laid it across the saddle again and squeezed off another shot. Another rider fell from his horse causing the others to mill around in confusion. Chameli was frantically reloading and managed to get yet another rider before the other three turned and sped away. They were still in range of her excellent and uncanny vision as she downed another rider, leaving two remaining to gallop out of range.

‘That’s evened the odds Andrew,’ she said lightly. ‘We can go and get Singer now.’ Then she added. ‘As long as you are up to it.’

Despite my damaged throat, I managed to answer her.

‘I’m up to it,’ I said hoarsely. ‘Now I’m this close, I’m not letting him get away from me again.

I looked into her beautiful face and read the concern in her, normally, unreadable dark eyes.

‘You disobeyed me,’ I croaked.

‘Yes, I’m sorry Andrew, but I thought you might need a little help.’

‘I had the situation under control,’ I gasped. ‘I was just biding my time.’

‘I know you did,’ she smiled. ‘But you know what a worrier I am.’

I climbed gingerly, to my feet and made my way towards the horses. Chameli followed me with the saddle and put it on the horse before cinching it up and making it secure. Then she helped me up into the saddle. She had bandaged my hands with strips of cloth torn from her shirt so at least, they were cushioned when I held the reins. I was sore all over my body, especially my hands, back, buttocks and neck. But, at least now, I was fully alert and able to concentrate on our mission.

We set Luke’s horse free and headed back to Singer’s ranch. On the way I retrieved a Colt forty five revolver complete with fancy holster with ties for wearing low on the thigh, from one of the dead gunmen Chameli had downed with the Sharps. It felt awkward but I figured, even with my bandaged hands, I would be able to handle it tolerably well. By his side was a Winchester repeating rifle that I considered would be of more use to me than Luke’s old Spencer.

From there, we separated and I circled the ranch giving it about a mile berth so that we could approach it from opposite directions. I figured that, besides the two men who had headed back to the ranch, there would be no more than one other left, two at the most who had stayed behind with Singer. So we were up against possibly, four gunmen counting Singer, for even sitting in a wheel chair, he was capable of wielding a gun to good effect. Chameli planned to use the Sharps again when she got into a good. Position. It was doubtful that anybody would show themselves now that they knew from what range she was capable of killing. But, even without hitting anybody, she could cause a lot of panic and confusion which would be to our advantage. There was no way that I could approach without being seen, so I got close enough, to be just out of range of rifle fire. I doubted that there was a gun as powerful as the Sharps at the ranch. It was a specialist gun and Singer, I figured, would have no use for such a weapon. Chameli, on the other hand, knowing the layout of the ranch, had planned for drawing his men out into the open where they would be sitting ducks for such a long range weapon. I wondered how long she had been planning such tactics and if she had been using me as bait, or a distraction. I wouldn’t put it past her, knowing how confident she was in her own ability to rescue me.

I sat the horse just out of range and waited. After about twenty minutes, by which time I was becoming, increasingly anxious. I saw a window shatter and a moment later came the sound of breaking glass, followed by the boom of the buffalo gun. A couple of minutes later, I saw a door splinter. Followed, once more by the sound of the gun. There was a long silence, then, more glass shattered and the rifle boomed again. Then, after a pause, she took out another window and I heard the sound of the Sharps a final time. Chameli had used up all the ammunition she had. She had told me to count the shots and after four, it was up to us to make the most of any confusion at the ranch.

I set the horse off at a walk, then increased speed until I was heading for the ranch at full gallop. At any moment, I was expecting a shot to ring out and the closer I got to the ranch, the more I tensed for a bullet to come my way, but still none came. I knew Singer well enough to realise he would be using the same kind of tactics used during the war. He would be waiting until I was close enough to be an easy target before instructing his men to shoot.

I could see Chameli approaching, rapidly, from the other direction. She was an amazing horsewoman and a magnificent sight in full flow with her long black hair streaming behind her as she rode with the reins in one hand and a rifle in the other.

I lay low on the back of the horse as I entered the ranch yard as did Chameli so as not to be an easy target. I dismounted quickly with the rifle clutched tightly in my bandaged hand and despite my injuries, I hit the ground running and dived behind a water trough. Chameli took cover behind some bales of hay by the coral. We waited and watched for some kind of trap. Everywhere was silent as I looked all around the area expecting gunshots at any moment. Four of the men I had peppered with the Greener were still on the ground where they had died. The other two, I guessed, had managed to crawl or had been helped away and were probably in the house. I was sure that they would be too badly injured to pose a threat. The last man who had been flanking me, had also disappeared but I was sure I had killed him and he also, posed no threat. The silence was a bit unnerving and I began to wonder if the rest of Singer’s men had taken him and rode away out of danger. Suddenly, there was a barely, discernable movement at one of the windows and immediately a shot was fired from Chameli’s position. That woman was alert to anything and her reflexes were uncanny. The bullet from her rifle shattered the already, broken window and the sound of a loud yelp came from the house, then silence again. We waited and watched in silence, until, after around fifteen minutes, somebody called from the house, it was a man’s voice with a Spanish accent.

‘Señor,’ called the voice. ‘I am unarmed, I want to come out.’

I waited to see if he would say more, but for a few moments there was silence again. Then he called out again.

‘Señor, he called again. ‘Señor Singer is dead. The criado, a woman who cooks and cleans and I, are the only ones left. I am not a fighter, I was hired to be Señor Singer’s aid. Now I just want to leave peacefully.’

I had mixed feelings about his announcement that Singer was dead. Part of me wanted it to be true, whereas another part felt that, if he was dead, I had been cheated out of my revenge and he had escaped justice. However, it seemed very unlikely, to me, that he would have been killed so easily even though the bullets from the Sharps would have caused hell in the house and anybody behind a window or a door, could well have been killed, or at least, been very badly wounded. However, we couldn’t stay here in a standoff forever, somebody needed to bring it to a close.

‘Drag the dead out onto the stoop,’ I yelled. ‘I promise, as long as you don’t make a play for a weapon, we will hold our fire.’

There was another long silence, then he yelled out again.

‘How can I be sure you will keep your promise?

‘You can’t be sure, it’s a chance you will have to take. But what I will say is this. In five minutes, we are going to start shooting again and we will not stop until we are sure everybody is dead, including you.’

After another pause, he called out again.

‘Hold your fire Señor, I will do as you ask.’

After a moment, the front door opened slowly and a Mexican man and woman came out onto the stoop. Both held their hands high above their heads.

‘Mujer, ven a mì,’ called Chameli.

The woman started, gingerly, down the steps and walked slowly and nervously, towards Chameli. When she reached her position, Chameli told her to keep walking and not to stop for anything. The frightened woman, did as she was told and hurried away from the scene of the conflict.

‘Hombre,’ I called to the man who was standing still on the stoop with his hands held high. ‘Bring out all the dead people in the house, including Singer.

‘Si Señor.’

He went back into the house after propping the door open with a large rock, which had obviously, been left close by for just that purpose.

A few moments later, he came back through the door walking backwards and bent at the waist, dragging a body with his hands under the man’s armpits.

‘Bring him down the steps and drop him in the dirt where I can see him,’ I yelled.

He did as he was told and it was obvious that the man he had dragged out was dead.

He repeated the exercise three more times until there were four bodies lying in the dirt. Then he went back inside and after what seemed like a very long time, he emerged pushing Singer’s wheelchair and eased it down a ramp that had been set up alongside the steps. A blanket completely covered the body from head to toe, so as far as I was concerned, it could be anybody sitting in the wheelchair.

‘Bring him nearer,’ I yelled.

The Mexican did as he was told, wheeling him nearer my position until I told him that it was far enough. He stopped the wheelchair about twenty yards away.

‘Remove the blanket,’ I ordered from my place of concealment.

The Mexican pulled down the top of the blanket to reveal Singer’s face. His head was lolled on one side and was covered in blood. The Mexican lowered the blanket until it was just covering Singer’s knees and I could see where a bullet had entered his chest, there was a massive wound that would be impossible to fake. Chameli, who until that moment, had said nothing apart from ordering the woman to come to her, now, rose to her feet and approached the wheelchair. She had her rifle trained on the Mexican, but he didn’t seem to pose a threat. All he seemed to want, was to get the hell away from there. However, I became uneasy as I rose to my feet. The man was sidling very slowly away from the wheelchair and his eyes were darting around as though he was expecting something to happen. Chameli was between me and the wheelchair bound Singer. I could not believe how reckless she was being as she stood in front of him looking down into his bloodied face. Something was terribly wrong. Only one of his hands was on view, the other, hidden below the blanket that still covered his knees. The Mexican had moved well away to one side and all my instincts told me that Chameli was in terrible peril. Suddenly, and before I could shout a warning, she spat into his face and at the same time the blanket exploded with gunfire and Chameli reeled backwards before falling into a sitting position on the ground.

‘No!’ I screamed. ‘Oh my god no.’

I ran forwards and at the same time loosed off a shot from the Winchester at hip height. It entered the blanket at just about the place where the gunshot came from, round about Singers groin. I heard him scream in agony as I trained the rifle on the Mexican.

He threw his arms in the air with a look of horror on his face.

‘Please Señor,’ he cried. ‘He made me do it.’

I was frantic and enraged.

‘You made your choice,’ I growled. Then I squeezed off a shot that hit him square in the middle of his temple.

I didn’t wait to see him fall, I was more intent on getting to Chameli. But first, I pulled the blanket away from Singer. The pistol he had used to shoot Chameli was hanging from a finger and I could hear his rasping breathing and whimpering coming from his ugly lips as I saw the blood soaking his pants around his groin area. I took the gun from his finger and threw it away, then I hurried to her side and immediately saw where the bullet had entered her chest. Her shirt was soaked with blood. She had collapsed from her sitting position, onto her back and she lay very still, stretched out with her eyes closed. I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing. In my mind, I implored anybody’s god that would listen, to allow this to be a very bad nightmare, one from which, I would very soon wake up.

I knelt down beside her and saw that she was breathing. Her breasts were rising and falling each time she took a breath, but I could hear the blood rattling in her lungs and she seemed to be unconscious. I slid a hand under her neck and lifted her head so that I could cradle it in my arms. Her eyes fluttered open but her brow furrowed with pain. A smile flickered across her beautiful lips and a small trickle of blood appeared at the corner of her lovely mouth.

‘I’m sorry I disobeyed you Andrew,’ she gasped painfully. ‘I didn’t think you would be able to manage without me.’

‘Be quiet,’ I whispered. ‘I’m going to get you to a doctor, just hang on.’

‘I’m not going anywhere Andrew. I believe I am finished this time.’

‘No, you are not, you are indestructible. I’m going to find a waggon and get you to Cheyenne where you can get treatment.'

‘I’m sorry Andrew,’ she wheezed. ‘I think my time has come.’

She coughed a little and I saw the pain etched on her face as she spoke again.

‘Look after Emily for me and take care of Amelia.’

‘No you are not going to leave me now. I forbid it. You are my woman and you must do as I say.’

She smiled painfully and I could see the light in her beautiful eyes was fading. Eyes that had enchanted me from the first time I had gazed into them.

‘I love you Andrew. I have always loved you.’

Her head lolled and her eyes closed as her whole body went limp and she lay lifelessly in my arms.

‘No!’ I cried. ‘You can’t leave me now, don’t leave me Chameli I need you, don’t go.’

I looked up to the heavens and screamed at the top of my voice.

‘If there is a god up there, for fuck’s sake give me a break will you?’

A sob escaped my lips as I grovelled in my misery and try as I may, I could not stop the flow of tears that began to stream from my eyes. Then I began crying and sobbing uncontrollably, as the tears rolled down my cheeks and fell from my chin onto her lifeless face. Once more I looked up to where I was sure there was no god, but just in case I was wrong, I wanted him to know how I felt about his shitty way of doing things.

‘What the hell have I done?’ I screamed. ‘That is so bad that you have to take everybody I love, away from me?

Then another bout of sobbing wracked my body as my gaze turned once more to her beautiful face. I bent my head and placed my tear soaked lips to hers, feeling the warm softness as her lips touched mine. I stayed that way for many moments never wanting to take my lips away from hers. Then something clicked in my mind, her lips were still warm, surely that must mean that her blood was still flowing.

I wasn’t sure, but I was sure as hell going to try and save her as long there was a chance, no matter how slight.

I lowered her head onto the ground as gently as I could. Then I rose and strode to where Singer was sitting in his wheelchair. Torturing and killing him now, was the last thing on my mind. He had gone to the bottom of my list of priorities and I placed no more importance on getting revenge than I would pissing on a cockroach, compared to how much saving Chameli meant to me. He was moaning and his head was lolling about on his shoulders as the pain wracked his body. The wound in his chest was genuine and it must have taken a lot of hate to make him want to come out and shoot at one, or both of us, even though he was badly wounded. He was gasping for air as his lungs slowly filled with blood and there was a huge bloody patch round his groin area where I had shot him. He must have been aware my approach, because he looked up and spoke painfully.

‘Finish me,’ he wheezed.

I grasped the front of his shirt with both hands and pulled him up out of the wheelchair, then flung him to the ground where he lay in the dirt, whining and gasping for air.

‘I hope you take days to die you bastard,’ I growled as I took the wheelchair and pushed it to where Chameli lay.

I lifted her as gently as I could and sat her in the wheelchair. As I did so, I had a feeling of elation when I heard a slight moan come from her lips. I picked up Singer’s blood stained blanket and covered her with it before roughly, removing his belt and strapping her to the wheelchair with it. Satisfied that she was secure, I pushed her round to the front of the big barn about thirty yards away. Inside was the wagon that had been converted to hold Singer’s wheelchair so that he could be driven to town or on cattle drives. The team of horses, that I assumed, he used to pull the wagon, were in stalls inside the barn. I hitched the two horses to the wagon and pushed the wheelchair up a ramp that was provided for that purpose, before securing it in the back of the wagon. After I secured the wheelchair, I climbed up onto the seat and drove the wagon as fast as I dare without hurting my beautiful woman, out of the yard and onto the trail to Cheyenne.

I stopped at regular intervals, to make sure she was as comfortable as I could make her under the circumstances. When we were around five miles from Cheyenne, I stopped the wagon and climbed in the back. She had slipped down so that the belt holding her had risen up around her chest. I loosened the belt and with as much tenderness and care as I could give her, I eased her up into a more comfortable position. Her head had lolled onto one side and her long, tousled hair covered most of her face. But once I had her sitting up, she lifted her head and turned her gaze up to me. I was thrilled as the slightest of smiles played across her beautiful lips and for a fleeting moment, I saw a spark of light in her dark eyes. Then, finally, she closed them for the last time. She died without giving me a chance to hold her a final time in life, taking with her my broken heart and everything I had planned for our future.

I drove the wagon, aimlessly, for many miles. For hours I just allowed the team of horses to wander over the plains while I sat on the seat with the reins held loosely in my hands. My mind was alternating between blankness and a vision of Chameli riding her horse at break neck speed with her skirt hitched up high, revealing her golden thighs, her long black hair flowing behind her as she raced to stop the horse that was hauling the rope that was strangling the life out of me.

I did not even realise the horses had stopped after so long sitting there with my mind alternating between day dreaming and complete blankness as I sat on the seat of the wagon. Then, after a while, the sound of running water broke through my reverie and I looked up with a feeling of confusion in my head. Slowly, I became aware of my surroundings. The team of horses had stopped by a shallow creek and were now drinking from it. There were small trees all around and wild flowers. Cottonwood trees lined the bank, while off to one side was a larger cottonwood. Birds sang in the trees and shrubs, while butterflies and bees flittered from flower to flower.

Chameli believed in destiny and it seemed that I had been destined to stop at this place of beauty, a place that Chameli would have loved in life and would now, I decided, dwell in death.

There were many tools in the back of the wagon and I found a good spade with which to dig her grave. It was getting dark as I began my task. I dug a deep grave below the biggest of the Cottonwood trees. This would have been the place she would have chosen, I was sure of it. In any case she would have trusted my judgement, she was my woman after all.

It was completely dark by the time the grave was finished. I had dug it deep, for I did not want any critters to get at my woman. By the glow of the moon, I lifted her down from the wagon and carried her to the Cottonwood, shucking Singer’s blanket on the way. Then I sat down with my back against the tree and cradled her in my arms with her head resting on my shoulder and her face against mine. My tears ran down both our faces and dripped onto her shirt until I had no more tears left to cry. Eventually, I slept.

I awoke to sound of birdsong and fast running water of the creek as it babbled over rocks and stones. I tried to move, but I ached all over and I was very stiff. Chameli had also stiffened but for a different reason and I realised it was, finally, time to let her go. When I eventually got my joints to work, I placed her on the edge of the grave and jumped down into it. The edge was level with my chest and I was able to lift her down into the pit and rest her, as gently as I possibly could, on the ground at the bottom of the grave. I had left enough room so that I could stand with my feet on either side of her. I covered her face with my jacket and hauled myself out of the grave. I wasn’t ready to fill it in yet. I desperately wanted to leave something of mine in the grave with her, just so that she would know I was always there and would never forget her. But there was nothing I valued enough that would come close to honouring her memory. Then it came to me. I retrieved an axe from the wagon and looked for a suitable rock. Placing the little finger of my left hand on the rock, I wielded the axe and cut it off just below the knuckle. There were medical supplies in the wagon and I was able to find a bandage to tightly bandage the stump of my finger. I lowered myself into the grave again and placed the severed finger inside her shirt under her breasts. Now I figured I would be forever touching her and I hoped, in times of solitude, I would feel her and she would feel me. I lifted my jacket away from her face and kissed her lips once more before replacing it and climbing out.

I stood for a long time on the edge of the grave staring down onto her magnificent body. Even in death, she was the most impressive looking woman I had ever known. I felt I should say some words or a prayer, but I did not know any. When I finally spoke, it was just a simple goodbye.

‘Goodbye Chameli Gonzales. I would have been honoured, if for just one day, you had become Chameli Gonzales Hanson.’

Then I filled in the grave. A fragment of my broken heart went into that pit with every spade full of soil that landed on her body and as the grave filled up, I could feel her drawing farther away from me like a dream that fades just before one wakes from a deep sleep.

Finally, after what seemed like many back breaking hours, it was done. All that was left was a small mound to show where the grave was situated. I took a knife and began to carve on the trunk of the tree under which she was buried. After I had finished I stood and inspected my handiwork.

BENEATH THIS TREE

LIES CHAMELI GONZALES

THE ORNERIEST WOMAN

THAT EVER LIVED

SHE BROKE MY WILL

THEN BROKE MY HEART

Andrew Hanson.

I hitched up the wagon and drove it away heading west. I decided that I would never, as long as I lived, get close to anybody ever again. No woman was safe around me. Everybody I got close to seemed to come to great harm or worse, died. I would never return to the farm. I could not and would not risk the lives of the two people who were closest to my heart, Amelia and Emily. They would never understand and would not forgive me. But as long as they were safe, it would be worth it.

TWENTY-FOUR

I gave Cheyenne a wide berth, driving Singer’s wagon into that town would raise some questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. Instead I went on to Salt Lake City Utah, where I sold the wagon and bought a horse and a mule complete with supplies for a long trek. I still had money from the sale of my cows so I was able to get by, for a while at least. From Salt Lake City, I headed south and eventually reached Flagstaff Arizona where I planned to stay for a while. It was there that I came to my senses.

I sat outside the saloon one day watching a family of settlers who were passing through Flagstaff on their way, I guessed, to Wyoming. They were purchasing supplies for their journey north and I watched with great interest, as two blond haired girls accompanied by, who I took to be, their mother and father, entered the emporium. They wouldn’t be much younger than Amelia and Emily. They were laughing with their father, who they obviously adored and he had his arms around both their shoulders.

Amelia would be hurting again after I had once more, let her down and Emily deserved to know what had happened to her mother. She would think that she did not care and that we had abandoned her and Amelia. I had put off writing a letter during the three months since Chameli had died. I just did not know how to word it. How could I tell a young girl in a letter, her mom had died helping me to get revenge on my family’s killer? I was a coward who used the excuse that I would be bad for the girls if I returned, as a way out of facing them head on. I had to go back and this time I would confess everything from the very beginning including telling them my real name. There was no doubt in my mind that they would hate me for all the lies and for allowing Chameli to be taken away. But they deserved, at least, to hear it from my lips and not the written word. I figured I would, then, be able to ride away from the farm without the burden of my lies and deceit weighing me down.

Early the next morning I headed east as I set out for Kansas, passing through New Mexico and Texas. After three weeks I arrived at the farm in late afternoon and as expected, the two girls raced their horses out to meet me. I stopped my horse and they both slowed to a walk as they approached. The laughter had faded from their faces when they had seen that I was alone. It was uncanny the way their actions mirrored each other’s, for they both knew immediately, that something was not right and I could see the tears welling up in both girl’s eyes.

Emily was the first to speak.

‘Where is she?’ She cried.

I looked from her to Amelia and back again to Emily. They were both glaring at me accusingly. Emily had trusted me to bring her mom back safe and I had broken that trust in the worst possible way.

‘I’m sorry Emily,’ I whispered.

‘What? Why are you sorry? What has happened to my mom?’

This was the moment I had dreaded on the long journey to get here. There was no easy way to say it. I had gone over in my head, time and time again, what I was going to say to Emily and it had always come down to bluntness. There was no way of letting her down easy.

‘She is dead Emily.’

She stared at me in disbelief as did Amelia.

‘What do you mean?’ she cried. ‘She can’t be dead, you would not let her die I just know you wouldn’t.’

I sat my horse, silently looking from one girl to the other. Nothing I could say would change the situation as I saw it slowly dawn on both their faces, that they would never see Chameli again.

Amelia dismounted and hurried to help Emily down where they fell into each other’s arms and cried on each other’s shoulders. I had an urge to turn my horse round and ride away as fast as the animal would carry me. But I knew I wouldn’t, it was time to face up to my fears and stop being a damned coward. So instead of riding away, I sat uncomfortably watching the girls as they comforted each other.

After what seemed like forever, Emily turned her tear stained face my way even though Amelia was still clinging to her with her face buried in her shoulder.

‘How did she die?’

‘Before I tell you that Emily, I need to tell you the whole story. I think you already know parts of it.’

‘You went after that man didn’t you?’ she accused. ‘You lied about those women that were taken by the Indians.’

‘I’ve lied about many things,’ I said guiltily. ‘Now I am going to confess everything to both of you and to Emmet and Rose too. Also Thomas if he is around.’

Emily tried to pull away from Amelia, but the older girl clung on to her and would not let her go. I could see by the way her shoulders were shaking that she was still sobbing. Surprisingly, she seemed to be taking Chameli’s death harder than Emily, maybe because having lost one mother, she hadn’t been prepared to lose another.

After another long period, both girls remounted and accompanied me to the farm. Amelia had not spoken to me the whole time and I was bracing myself for her hatred when she had heard the full story and how much of my life here had been a lie.

We all sat round the table in the kitchen of the farm house. Emmet had supplied me with a beer from his, not so secret, supply. I sipped at it occasionally as I told my story. I left nothing out, even the fact that I had ridden with a bunch of guerrillas on the same side as the Confederates that had shot Emmet’s son. I told what had happened to my family, leaving out much of the detail, and how I had vowed revenge on their killers. Then I told them how I had met Chameli, but once again I left out much of the detail about what singer’s men had done to her. I told them about the seven years I had spent in prison and how Chameli and I had come to have Emily with us. I told them my real name and the reason why I used an alias. They heard how the part about Sarah and her daughters being kidnapped and my search for them, was true. That despite me using an alias, my love for Katherine and Amelia had been genuine and true. Then I told them how I had forbidden Chameli to accompany me when I confronted Singer. But true to her character, she had disobeyed me and in the process, had saved me from terrible torture and eventual death. Then I told how she had made a very rare mistake that had cost her her life and how I had tried to get her to a doctor while she was clinging on to it. Finally, I told how I had unwittingly, found a perfect spot to bury her and felt sure, Chameli herself had guided the horses to that place. A place of unrivalled beauty that Chameli would love. Finally, I apologised to Emmet and Rose for my deceit, before looking at Amelia who had her head bowed looking down at the table. Everybody in the place sat quietly, either staring at the table or something else, anything rather than look at me. I sat and gazed at Amelia, hoping she would say something, even if it was a declaration of her hate for me. At least if she did that, she would be acknowledging my presence. After a long and unbearable silence, I pushed back my chair and rose to my feet. I was in complete darkness about how any of them felt about me and I had no idea how to break the silence. I figured that in any of their positions, I would feel nothing but contempt and hate for me, so I simply glanced at all of them in turn, my eyes lingering longer on the two girls. Then I turned and headed for the door.

Nobody spoke as I left the room and headed for the coral where my horse and mule were. I packed the mule and saddled the horse, before mounting and heading away from the farm. I had hoped, by some miracle that Amelia might have found it in her heart to forgive me. I didn’t hold the same hope as far as Emily was concerned, not after taking away her mother and causing her death. On the whole though, I had gotten away pretty easy. Nobody had screamed or ranted at me. Nobody had called me a cold blooded killer or a lying low down varmint. They had simply listened in silence as I confessed my guilt. I decided that in many ways, that was worse.

I urged the horse into a steady trot and the mule on the lead rope kept pace as I followed the trail south for Texas. I figured I would head for Fort Worth and see if Luke McKindrick was still running his saloon. Maybe he could use a good enforcer, if not I was sure there would be a good chance of some kind of work for a man who could handle a gun. As I rode I lapsed into a kind of dream world where I saw Chameli once more invading my mind and I felt my finger tingle, or at least the place where the finger had been. Maybe, she was touching me from wherever she may be. Or maybe she wasn’t, it was more likely the tingle one feels when a wound is healing.

I was suddenly woken from my reverie by a shout, or a scream from behind me. I stopped and turned in the saddle. A horse was heading my way and it was coming on at speed. As it neared my position, I saw that it was Emily. She reined in beside me and stared into my face. She was breathing heavily and it was several seconds before she was able to speak.

‘You loved her didn’t you Andrew?’ she gasped.

‘More than anything in the world,’ I replied. Then added, ‘maybe with the exception of you and Amelia.’

I looked up at the sound of more hooves pounding the ground and approaching fast. It was Amelia. She came on fast and brought her horse to a skidding halt beside Emily. Then looked from her to me breathing as heavily as Emily had done before.

‘I want you to show me her grave Danny,’ said Emily, still using my alias.

‘Me too,’ cried Amelia.

I was shocked that they would want me to take them all that way when they felt so much contempt for me.

‘It’s a long way to go,’ I replied. ‘Why would you want to travel such a long way in the company of a man who has treated you so badly? Maybe I should draw you a map and you could get your Grandpa to take you.’

‘You running out on me again Danny?’ Amelia asked accusingly.

‘I didn’t think you would want me here after all the lies and deceit.’

‘Well, I cannot say that what you have done has exactly filled me with joy. But you are the only dad I have and despite everything, the only one I want.’

‘That goes for me too,’ said Emily. ‘I have lost my adopted mom, I don’t want to lose my adopted dad too.’

I could not believe what I was hearing. I didn’t deserve such wonderful daughters, even adopted ones. Yet here they were telling me that they didn’t want to lose me after all I had put them through.

I dismounted and lifted them both down from their mounts one at a time. Then we hugged as a family and it was the most beautiful feeling in the world.

‘I can’t come back to the farm,’ I said. ‘Not after I have hurt Emmet and Rose so badly. But I will get a job somewhere close so that I can be near you both.’

‘Grandpa told me to bring you back,’ said Amelia. ‘He said I had better not come back without you.’

‘That don’t mean they have forgiven you yet,’ said Emily. ‘But Grandma Rose said they would work on it.’

TWENTY-FIVE

Emmet died in the month of April, eighteen eighty seven, only five months after his wife Rose died the previous November. They left two thirds of the farm to the girls after Amelia persuaded Emmet to amend his will to include Emily. Emmet did not need much persuasion as he looked upon Emily as just as much a granddaughter as Amelia and the girls were rarely apart in the early years after Chameli’s death. Thomas already owned the other third and after marrying his lady friend from Parsons, he sold his share to me and moved to Coffeyville with her to open a store.

A couple of months after going back to the farm, I took the girls back to the place where Chameli was buried. After they had cried a little, they told me I could not have chosen a nicer place for her to be buried.

‘I did not choose this place,’ I replied. ‘I believe Chameli chose it herself. Even in death she was guiding me as she always has done. She would never have trusted me to choose a place as beautiful as this without her help.’

After Emmet died, Amelia, who had been studying law, moved to New York in the hope of joining a firm of Lawyers. She found it very difficult to advance her career in a male dominated business and eventually married a lawyer in the firm and settled down with him. By the time she was thirty two, she had given birth to four children making me a very proud Grandpa when I visited them in the year of eighteen ninety eight. That was the last time I saw my lovely Amelia alive. She died aged forty four in the year of nineteen twenty two after a short, undiagnosed illness. I had made the long journey to be by her bedside, but I got there too late. Fortunately, if one cares to see it that way, her beloved adoptive sister, Emily did make it and held her hand throughout her dying hours.

Emily had already married by that time, to a likeable fellow she met in St Luis during a trip there to look at modern farming machinery. She had turned into a smart business woman and under her guidance, the farm had grown to a very profitable enterprise. She was always looking for new ideas to improve production and the poor man she married, didn’t know what hit him when he came to move in. She was constantly on the go, even ordering me about as though I was one of her underlings. But, I watched her build that farm and there was never a prouder father than me as I saw what she achieved. They may not have been blood relatives in the sense of the word. But they were very much my daughters and I was as proud of them as any father. Nobody could love their children any more than I loved them.

Emily gave me three more grandchildren and when I reached the age of sixty eight I moved to St Luis Missouri to live out the rest of my life. I had made a nice profit from the farm thanks to Emily and I handed over my share to her for the princely sum of one cent.

Emily died from pneumonia in January, nineteen thirty two aged sixty five. At the age of eighty eight, I had outlived them all and that made me very sad.

I guess that is the end of my story. The year now is nineteen thirty seven and I am reaching the end of my life. A lot of changes have occurred during the ninety three years that I have spent on this earth. I have seen a lot of violence and death. I have lived through two of the bloodiest and most violent wars ever seen by man and another one is looming in Europe. Everybody I ever cared for, have left me. A weak and lonely old man with just my memories and regrets to keep me company.

One thing has stayed strong over the years, stronger than any bond I had with my daughters. In moments of solitude, the place where my little finger was, begins to tingle and if it wasn’t for the fact that I could see it was missing, I would swear it was being tugged. That is when I know she is watching and waiting. She always said we were destined to be together so who am I to argue. For fifty five years since her death I have lived with her by my side. Every single night she has been there in my dreams. A sight to take your breath away. A black horse, its nostrils flaring and breathing fire, its hooves beating the ground as it stretches out to gallop across a burning prairie. Astride the magnificent animal with her golden thighs gripping its flanks and her long mane of black hair streaming out behind her like a velvet cloak and coming to save me. The magnificent vision that is, Chameli Gonzales.

The End

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