The next few days were spent with Nick doing one of two things: looking ahead or looking behind. Everything else fell to the wayside. While looking ahead, he tried to gauge where he was in relation to where he wanted to be. As Kazys took him out of Wyoming and into the Dakotas, the horse was having a harder time maintaining the pace he’d set when he bolted out of Rock Springs.
Nick wasn’t about to jeopardize the animal’s health, but he also wasn’t about to jeopardize his own by allowing himself to fall too close to the men who were chasing him. Kinman’s presence was always nagging at the back of Nick’s mind. He could feel the other man closing in on him, even though he couldn’t see or hear him coming. Nick had been hunted for too many years to overlook that anxious feeling in the bottom of his gut.
Kinman pulled back on his reins and slowed down gradually enough for Lester’s horse to get the hint. The bounty hunter’s chest was heaving as if he’d run the last couple of miles on foot, and his eyes darted back and forth within their sockets.
“What’s the matter?” Lester asked. “Did you lose him?”
Still glancing around, Kinman slowed his horse so he was directly beside Lester’s. He reached to his belt and drew the hunting knife that was sheathed there.
Lester squirmed reflexively in his saddle. “All right, fine!” he squealed. “You didn’t lose him!”
But none of Lester’s pleading was about to stay Kinman’s hand. Seeing that, Lester clenched his eyes shut and waited to feel the blade cut through his flesh. Although he did feel the cool touch of sharpened steel, it was only for a second as it glanced between his wrists.
When he opened his eyes again, Lester found the ropes tying his hands to the saddle had been cut. The rope connecting his ankles was the next to go. Kinman leaned down and swiped the blade through the rope as if it was warm butter, causing both ends to drop down and brush against the ground. Even Lester’s horse seemed surprised to have the rope removed, since it had gotten used to feeling them on its belly for all these miles.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Lester asked tentatively.
“Don’t you remember what we talked about? I said I had plans for you.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Now’s the time to see those plans through.”
Lester gathered up his courage and glanced up the trail. When he looked back at Kinman, there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “We’re still going after them jewels?”
“Of course,” Kinman said with a humorless chuckle. “That is, unless you’re about to tell me there ain’t no buried treasure.”
“Oh, it’s there!”
“Then ride on ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”
Although Lester faced forward and gathered up his reins, he restrained himself from snapping the leather and setting his horse into motion. Every muscle in his body wanted to move forward. His legs tensed against the horse’s sides. His chest tensed. Even his head stretched forward as if he was anticipating the wind being in his face. Soon, however, he seemed more like a turkey stretching his neck along the chopping block.
“We should probably stick together,” Lester said. “This is Indian country, ain’t it?”
Kinman nodded. “Sioux.”
“You think them Sioux’ll be happy scalping me and just let you pass?”
“Hell no. If the Sioux are out for scalps, then they’ll get both of us. It won’t matter too much whether we’re separate or in one spot.”
“I guess that’s true. Why are you letting me go?”
“We’re crossing into the Badlands and we need to split up. Graves is bound to be watching his back right about now, but he’s only looking for me.”
“What if he sees me first?” Lester asked.
“That’s what you should hope for. He’s never met you, has he?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Good,” Kinman said. “Then he’s got every reason to treat you like he’d treat anyone else. Don’t tell him who you are, just to be on the safe side. Keep him occupied until I’ve snuck around behind him. If he sees me, the plan’s the same, only it’s you doing the sneaking while Graves comes after me. You’ve got the easy job, since I’ll be doing most of the fighting either way.”
“Do you think Graves knows you’re after him?”
Kinman shrugged and replied, “I don’t think so, but I ain’t about to bet my life on it. You’ll ride ahead, but we won’t be too far apart. When one of us hears shooting, the other comes in to lend a hand. That’s how you’re earning your freedom, remember? You play your cards right, and I may still throw you a percentage of whatever we find in that coffin you’ve been going on about.”
Eventually, Lester started to nod. “All right.”
“Don’t look so cautious, Lester. I could’ve killed you at any time if I wanted you dead. You bolt from me like a coward now, and I can still catch you any time I please. I ain’t got no doubt about that. Do you?”
Lester studied Kinman’s eyes for a second. That was all it took for him to get the answer he needed. “Nope,” he said.
“Good. That proves you’re a smart fellow. Now get moving toward that ridge,” Kinman said, pointing to the east. “I’m heading up north and will keep riding that way for a mile or so.”
Lester swallowed and nodded as all the color drained from his face.
“What’s eating you now?” Kinman asked.
“I feel more like bait in a trap right about now.”
“At least you’re still live bait.”
Seeing Kinman’s hand inch a bit closer to his gun, Lester pointed his horse to the east and snapped the reins. Even with the sense that he might get shot in the back at any second, Lester did feel good to be somewhat on his own. It wasn’t long before he’d worked most of the kinks out of his arms and legs so he could keep moving in time to the horse’s motions. Soon he built up some speed and was racing toward the ridge Kinman had pointed out.
When he looked over his shoulder, Lester didn’t see more than a cloud of dust to indicate the bounty hunter had been there.
He tapped his heels against his horse’s sides and let out a sharp yell to get the animal moving even faster. For the first minute or so, Lester wasn’t even looking for Graves. Instead, he kept his eyes open for a sign of Kinman’s approach or a good spot to make a sharp turn before the bounty hunter got there.
What he found when he cleared the ridge was something that put a whole other kind of dread into Lester’s gut. The cold touch of it seeped down like a poison that had been slipped into his water and it spread out in all directions once it got to his stomach.
“Oh shit,” Lester said under his breath when he spotted the row of horses approaching him from the left. He wasn’t close enough to see the riders’ faces, but he could most definitely spot the feathers tied to their heads, saddles and rifle barrels.
Lester counted four Indians, but knew there would be more coming from a small village he could see less than a mile or so away.
“Son of a bitch knew this was gonna happen,” Lester rasped as he bunched up his reins and used them to whip his horse’s flank. “I don’t know how he knew, but he knew. I’m sure of it.”
Muttering a silent prayer, Lester steered away from the Indians and hoped that would be enough to get them off his tail. Sometimes, all they wanted to do was scare folks away from their villages or sacred burial grounds. Lester was no expert on the matter, but he had enough common sense to know when to give the savages a wide berth. Since he’d caught sight of the village, he figured they were just a couple of braves out to gain a reputation by putting the fright into a white man.
Lester’s horse was breathing heavily and slowing down. He let the animal ease up a bit so he could turn and take a quick peek over his shoulder. The Indians were even closer than he’d thought, and were gaining ground fast.