“Now you’re picking a fight with me?” Jess said. “The one person in this world who gives a damn about you?”
“I’m mad at him, not you.”
I was so intent on the two of them that I did not see Cutter gaze in the direction of the spruce. The first intimation I had that he had noticed the jacket was when he jerked his rifle up.
“Over there! Look!”
The next moment Cutter gigged his horse toward the spruce—and me.
Chapter Seventeen
I lay frozen in surprise.
Jess and Jordy raised their reins, Jordy bellowing, “Don’t you kill him! I want him to die slow!”
Cutter had snapped his rifle to his shoulder, but he did not shoot. His eyes narrowed and he exclaimed, “What the hell?”
Suddenly Blue Water Woman’s head and shoulders were silhouetted against the blue of the sky. She aimed the pistol at the closest to her, who happened to be Jordy. It spat smoke and lead, and at the crack of the shot, Jordy threw his arms into the air and slumped forward over his mount.
“Jordy!” Jess cried, reining around.
Cutter glanced back, and drew rein.
My body moved without my brain willing it to. I was on my feet, my arm cocked to throw the rock, before I quite knew what I was doing. I threw it with all my might, and much to my amazement, my throw was true.
The rock caught Cutter in the temple, and he reeled in the saddle and nearly fell.
Jess seized hold of the reins to his brother’s mount and galloped to the south. Another instant, and Cutter, still reeling, raced after them.
I whooped for joy and broke from cover. I felt much as David must have felt when he slew Goliath.
Blue Water Woman brought me down to earth. She came flying down the slope, shouting, “The rifle, Robert!”
Only then did I realize that Jordy had dropped his. I scooped it up and wheeled just as she reached me. Gladly giving it to her, I said happily, “We did it! We drove them off.”
“They will be back, and we must not be here when they do.” Blue Water Woman turned toward the valley floor so very far below, and once again we ran side by side.
“We have taught them not to take us lightly, at least,” I said proudly. “And now there is one less.”
“Perhaps,” Blue Water Woman said.
“You hit him. I saw it.”
“But did the slug strike his heart or a lung or miss his vitals altogether? We cannot take his death for granted.”
“Either way, he will be in no shape to ride,” I predicted. “And now that we have his rifle, the other two won’t press us as hard.” In my mind’s eye I saw us reaching the cabins and rallying the Kings and McNair to track down the killers. We had as good as prevailed.
“You have a lot to learn about human nature, Robert,” Blue Water Woman cautioned. “If Jordy does die, his brother will not rest until we have breathed our last.”
“You are forgetting the vein of gold,” I reminded her. “He won’t harm us so long as he thinks you can lead him to it.”
“I would not count on that overmuch were I you.”
After that we had breath only for running. I did my best, but I slowed her down. She displayed the easy graceful lope of an antelope and could go forever without tiring. Me, I was hurting after a few hundred yards. But I doggedly ran on. I refused to let her be caught because of me.
We had descended for over an hour, with brief stops now and again so I could try to catch my breath, when we both heard the dreaded but familiar sound of hooves high above us.
Blue Water Woman stared up the mountain. “They took longer than I thought they would.”
“We must find another spot to make a stand,” I wheezed.
“This time we will try another trick.”
Ahead were aspens. She made straight for them, I a puppy glued to her moccasins. The narrow boles were almost white in the bright sunlight. When she stopped, I was puzzled. Hardly any cover was to be had. The trees were too thin. “What are you up to?”
“This will do,” Blue Water Woman said with a smile.
“For what? Our graves?”
She thrust the knife into my hand. “I will circle back on our trail to the right. You go to the left. Keep about ten paces from our tracks. Halfway to the spot where we entered the aspens, stop. Lie on your stomach and cover yourself with as many leaves as you can.”
Her idea was brilliant. Our pursuers would be so intent on reading sign, they might not spot us.
“When they are close enough I will shoot one,” Blue Water Woman said, “Then we will both rush whoever is left and end this.”
I liked the shooting part; I did not like the rushing part. “But one of us is liable to take a slug.”
“I will make as if I am reloading the rifle,” Blue Water Woman said, “and keep the last one’s attention on me. When you are close enough, stab him. Stab him again and again.”
“If your plan works he will have his back to me.”
“I will ask him to turn around so you can stab him in the chest.”
“Your sarcasm is excellent, but I was not objecting,” I said. “I will do what I have to. It is them or us, and I have grown fond of breathing.”
“You are learning at last,” Blue Water Woman said, and clapped me on the arm.
We set our trap. I did exactly as she told me. Plenty of leaves littered the ground, most of them dry and brittle. But by scooping carefully I did as she had directed. I could see her doing the same. She looked at me, and I smiled.
I envied Shakespeare McNair. Tavern gossip had it that Indian women made terrible wives. They were supposed to be smelly and dirty and little better than animals. I am here to record the opposite. Blue Water Woman was as much a lady as any white woman I ever met. She was intelligent, articulate and brave. She abhorred dirt. In short, she was as fine a female as I ever met. Yes, I envied Shakespeare McNair very much.
Her low cry drew me out of myself.
Two riders were nearing the aspens. Jess Hook and Cutter were abreast of each other, about thirty feet apart. The incident at the bluff had taught them a lesson. They rode primed for conflict, the stocks of their rifles on their thighs, their thumbs on the hammers and their fingers on the triggers.
Jordy was not with them. I suppose I should have been elated. But I experienced only the cold realization that we still had two cutthroats to deal with.
Ten yards from the aspens the pair drew rein.
Jess rose in the stirrups and scanned the stand from end to end. He was uneasy, and it showed.
“We can’t sit here all day,” Cutter complained.
“I just lost my only brother. We will sit here as long as I damn well please.”
“I am only saying—” Cutter began.
“We should go around,” Jess cut him off.
My breath caught in my throat. If they did that, and found no trace of us on the other side of the stand, they would know beyond any shadow of a doubt that we were hiding in it.
“There is such a thing as being too cautious,” Cutter said.
“Ride on through if you want. Make it easy for them. Or have you forgotten they got their hands on Jordy’s rifle?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Cutter assured him, although were I a gambling man, I would wager he had.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Jess said.
I would not have done it for all the ivory in Africa. But then, I never pretend I am more than I am. I am a naturalist. I record new species for posterity. That is the sum and substance of my life.
Cutter poked his mount with his heels. He came slowly, scouring the aspens on both sides of him.
I imitated a log. The slightest movement would give me away. I refused even to blink.
“You are too pigheaded for your own good!” Jess called to Cutter, then reined to the right and headed around the stand.