Wilderness Double Edition 13 Page 29

  Lou scanned the mountains too. “Who else could it be?’ ‘

  Zach answered honestly. “I don’t rightly know. I have a feeling, though, it spells trouble.”

  Eleven

  The sun hung at its zenith when Felicity Ward emerged from the cabin, bucket in hand, and headed for the stream. She had gone only a few yards when the door opened again and Cindy Lou stepped out. She was holding a pistol.

  “Ma says I’m to tag along, city gal.”

  It had been a rough morning. What with little sleep, worry about Simon, and her nerves constantly being on edge, Felicity was tired and irritable and unwilling to take any more abuse from the Coyfields. “I can get water by myself, thank you.”

  “Don’t give me any sass. When Ma says to do something, we do it. Now, hurry it up so I can get back in there and finish playin’ checkers with Tinder.”

  Felicity was at a loss to understand the clan’s raging passion for games. They could not get enough. First thing that morning, Samuel Coyfield had taken a small board and used a piece of charred wood from the fireplace to draw squares on it. Her coins served as the pieces. Since then, the Coyfields had played match after match, the winner taking on all corners until he or she was defeated. Tinder had just beaten Samuel, Mabel, and Cole, and was halfway through a game with Cindy Lou.

  Felicity glumly walked on, sarcastically commenting, “I suppose when your family tires of checkers, they’ll start on chess.”

  Cindy Lou sashayed along as if she were parading before a room of men. “Would that we could. Ain’t none of us ever learnt that one. Do you know how?’ ‘

  “Yes.” Felicity’s father had taught her when she was seven. One of her fondest memories was of the first time she beat him.

  “Then you can teach us! Ma will be tickled pink. She’s always said that games keep a person’s mind sharp. Hones our wits, like a whetstone hones a knife.”

  So that’s it, Felicity mused. She would rather walk barefoot across a bed of nails than teach the Coyfields anything, but if Mabel insisted, there was nothing she could do. Reaching the bank, Felicity looked out over the valley. The anxiety that had plagued her all morning was rekindled by the sight of a coyote with a rabbit in its mouth. “Shouldn’t you have heard from Mary Beth by now? Aren’t any of you worried she has come to harm?”

  “Ain’t likely, Yankee. My cousin can take care of herself. If anyone is hurtin’ long about now, it’s that puny feller of yours. What did you ever see in him, anyhow?”

  Felicity barely held her resentment in check. “Simon is the most wonderful man alive. He’s considerate, tender, loving, all the things a man should be.”

  “Sounds more like a woman than a man. But city men are all like that, I hear. They fret about what clothes they should wear, do up their hair all fancy-like, and then go to operas and silly stuff like that. Sissified, the whole bunch.”

  “My husband is just as much a man as Cole or Jacob.”

  “Oh, please. He’s not worth a hill of beans. Why, the lunkhead let us waltz right into your home, didn’t he? And all that time we were spyin’ on you two, he never caught on until there at the end. Pitiful. Downright pitiful.”

  Felicity would have loved to bean Cindy Lou with the bucket, grab the pistol, and flee, but she couldn’t be sure one of the others wasn’t watching from the window. She walked down the incline to the gravel bar and squatted to dip the bucket in. The water was cool, refreshing, reminding her of how long it had been since her last bath.

  “Rubbed a nerve, did I?” Cindy Lou tittered. “Don’t let it bother you none. Pretty soon, you’ll be Cole’s. Then you won’t give a hoot about that Simon no more.”

  “Shows how much you know. I’ll love him with all my heart and soul until the day I die. He’s the only man for me.”

  “Cole ain’t poked you yet. Once he does, you won’t ever want any other.”

  So intense was Felicity’s hatred at that moment, her whole body quivered. “You people are revolting.”

  “What brought that on? I done told you the truth. Why hold it against me?” Cindy Lou idly ran a hand up and down the pistol’s smooth barrel. “You city gals. The only thing you use your heads for is to keep your ears apart. I should think you’d be happy to land a catch like Cole.”

  “I’ll never let him have his way with me.”

  “Don’t hardly see how you can stop him. Or why you’d even want to. I swear, Yankees ain’t got brains enough to grease a skillet.”

  Felicity could say the same about the Coyfields, but she didn’t. The bucket full, she rose and turned, holding the handle with both hands. Her gaze drifted to the high grass bordering the stream, and her heart leaped when she saw who was peering out at her.

  Simon Ward had been on his belly for hours, crawling close to the cabin and then waiting for an opportunity to present itself for him to rescue his wife. This was his chance, he believed. Cindy Lou’s back was to him as he slowly began to rise.

  Felicity guessed his intent and stepped up the bank, complaining, “This bucket sure is heavy.”

  Cindy Lou snickered. “That’s another thing. Why are city folks such weaklings? Comes from all that soft livin’, I reckon. I’m glad I wasn’t born there.”

  Simon was eight feet away and closing rapidly. He glanced repeatedly at the cabin in case someone else came out.

  Felicity pretended it was hard for her to tote the bucket. Holding it low to the ground, her back bent, she marked Simon’s advance while keeping an eye on Cindy Lou. “I don’t suppose you’d care to give me a hand with this?”

  “With a bucket? Lordy, when I was knee-high to a grasshopper I could lift that with no problem.”

  “Could you do this?” Felicity asked, and whipped it upward.

  The water broke over Cindy Lou’s face like a small wave. Sputtering and blinking, she stepped backward. “You miserable witch! What did you do that for?”

  So you can’t see my husband coming up behind you, Felicity thought, smiling as Simon raised his pistol to hit Cindy Lou over the head. Her smile faded, though, when a hulking figure burst from the cabin.

  “Touch her and die!”

  Simon rotated, saw Cole Coyfield covering him, and wanted to scream in fury. Impaired by his ankle and his fatigue, he hadn’t moved fast enough. He had failed, and his wife would suffer on account of it. Unless – unless he was willing to make the supreme sacrifice to buy her time to reach the high grass and get away. “Run, Felicity!” he shouted, darting between her and Cole.

  “No, Simon!” Felicity yelled.

  Cole’s rifle boomed. Simon felt as if a falling tree slammed into his left shoulder. He was spun completely around and his legs swept out from under him. Crashing onto his back, he resisted a cloud of darkness about to swallow his consciousness. He was vaguely aware of Cindy Lou taking the pistol from him, of Felicity kneeling and cradling his head in her lap. “Why didn’t you run?” he feebly asked.

  “I couldn’t desert you.” Sorrow racked Felicity, and she cried openly.

  The other Coyfields spilled from the cabin. Mabel strode over and leaned down to examine the wound. “Appears the bone is busted, but he’ll live. A while yet, anyhow.” She smiled at her oldest. “Nice shootin’, son.”

  “Thanks, Ma. We need him alive yet. That pistol he had is one Mary Beth took. He has to tell us where she is.”

  Tinder pointed at Cindy Lou and exclaimed, “Ain’t you a sight, Cousin! What did you do? Go swimmin’ with your clothes on?”

  “It was this bitch!” Cindy Lou huffed. Moving nearer, she cocked a leg to kick Felicity. “I’m going to stomp the bejeebers out of her.”

  Felicity raised her head. She didn’t care what they did to her, but she couldn’t let them kill Simon. She tensed to leap and try to snatch Cindy Lou’s pistol. Suddenly, Samuel Coyfield cried out.

  “Wait! Look way off yonder! A couple of people on horseback!”

  Nate King had seen the whole thing through his spyglass, but he was too far
away to help. Now he watched the Coyfields hustle Simon and Felicity indoors. A heavyset woman and two older men reappeared and huddled to urgently discuss what they were going to do. The youngest two did not come back out. Another Coyfield, the one who shot Simon, was hastily reloading. Nate related everything he saw to his wife.

  Winona was a study in distress. “You say you saw Simon move? He is alive?”

  “Yes. He was holding Felicity’s hand.” Nate observed the heavyset woman gesture. A hawkish man went to the south end of the cabin. The bear who had brought Simon down glided into high grass and dipped from sight. “They’re laying a trap for us.” He told Winona what had taken place.

  “What will we do?”

  Nate closed the telescope with a snap. “We’ll ride right into it. They don’t know we’ve seen them. At this distance, they can’t see my spyglass.” He slid it into a parfleche, then aligned his Hawken across his thighs and loosened both flintlocks under his belt.

  Winona liked the fact that he did not offer to ride in alone. He always treated her as an equal, which was more than she could say about other men she had known. “I will take the one in the grass and the one hiding behind the cabin.”

  “Maybe you should do the talking and leave them to me. I know exactly where the big one went to ground.”

  “As you wish, husband.” Winona cradled her rifle in her left arm. “But what about the two inside?”

  “Odds are, they’ll come running out to lend a hand. If they don’t, one of us has to get in there as quick as we can.”

  “Felicity and Simon will be at great risk.”

  “It can’t be helped. Simon might be dying now, for all we know.” Nate slapped his legs against the stallion to bring it to a trot.

  Winona did likewise with her mare. The stick figures in front of the cabin gradually acquired detail and dimension. She was amazed at how obese they were. Among the Shoshones obesity was rare. Oh, some of the women became quite plump after having three or four babies, and a few of the older warriors grew big bellies once they gave up the warpath, but nothing to compare with the Coyfields.

  Winona noticed how the woman stayed close to the door to lure them in, while the man drifted toward the creek. It would put Nate and her between them, and flanked by the man in the grass and the man at the far end of the cabin. Quite clever. She was of a mind to rein up well short of the doorway, but to do so would arouse suspicion. So, smiling broadly, Winona willfully put her foot into the jaws of the trap, as it were. She drew rein near the door.

  “Howdy, there,” the woman declared, as friendly as could be. “I’m Mabel Coyfield. That there is my husband, Jacob. Who might you be?”

  Winona introduced herself and Nate, adding, “We were not aware the Wards had visitors. It is wonderful to meet you. I always enjoy making new acquaintances.”

  Mabel looked as if she had swallowed a live fish. “Goodness gracious! Where’d you learn to talk like that? I swear, you speak English better than I do.”

  “I have worked hard to master the white tongue,” Winona said. Trying not to be obvious, she glanced in the window. Someone was beside it, listening. It was the young man Nate had mentioned, judging by the telltale silhouette. “Are you friends of the Wards, as well?”

  “That we are,” Mabel declared, putting her hands on her hips within short reach of her flintlocks. “They were kind enough to put us up when our wagon broke down on the way to the Oregon country. Nicer folks you’d never want to meet.”

  “That is true,” Winona said. Movement at the far corner verified that the other man was watching also. Watching and waiting for the signal to attack. Winona studied Mabel and Jacob, debating which one would give it. “Are they inside?”

  “Shucks, no. They went for a walk with our young’uns. But we expect them back anytime. Why don’t you climb on down and set a spell? You must be tired after your long ride.”

  Winona made no move to dismount just yet. “Yes, we have ridden far. How did you guess?”

  Mabel’s right hand was ever so slowly edging forward. “That little filly, Felicity, mentioned you live in the next valley over.”

  Jacob Coyfield was moving to his left, as casual as could be, pausing after each step. He nodded at Nate and said in genuine envy, “That’s a fine rifle you’ve got there, friend. Hawken, ain’t it?”

  “Yes,” Nate confirmed. He contrived to align it so the muzzle was pointed at the spot where the man who shot Simon had dropped from sight. “Third one I’ve owned. Best guns made.”

  “So folks say,” Jacob replied. “I’ve always wanted to get me one, but they were hard to come by in our neck of the woods.”

  “Where are you folks from?” Nate inquired.

  Both Jacob and Mabel answered. Jacob said, “Arkansas.” Mabel said, “Georgia.” They glanced at each other and laughed.

  “We’ve lived in both places,” Mabel clarified. “Now we’re lookin’ to put down roots somewhere new. Start over from scratch.”

  Nate never took his eyes off the grass. Some of the long stems shook even though the wind was calm, a yard to the left of where he had the Hawken trained. He shifted the muzzle accordingly. “How many are in your party?”

  “Just us and our son and daughter,” Jacob lied.

  “You’ll meet them any minute now,” Mabel threw in.

  Inside the cabin, Felicity saw Tinder and Cindy Lou swap devilish grins. Tinder was by the window, a cocked pistol held at shoulder height. Cindy Lou was near the bed, where Simon lay sprawled beside Felicity, their wrists and ankles bound and gags in their mouths. From where Felicity was, she could see Winona King through the door. So could Cindy Lou.

  Simon groaned softly. He had passed out as they carted him in, and was deathly pale. Felicity was horrified by the stain on his shirt, afraid he was losing too much blood.

  Cindy Lou bent down to hiss, “He’d better hush or I’ll quieten him myself.”

  Felicity took the threat seriously. Cindy Lou was itching for a chance to get even for having water dashed in her face.

  Over by the window, Tinder motioned at his cousin and whispered, “Pay attention! It won’t be long now. I’ll put one in the feller, you put one in the squaw.”

  Felicity looked at Winona again. The Coyfields were going to shoot the Kings from ambush! Winona and Nate did not stand a prayer. Somehow, Felicity must warn them. But what could she do, trussed up as she was, and with a washcloth jammed down her mouth?

  Outside, Nate King lifted his right foot from the stirrup and crooked it over his saddle. Now he could jump either way if he had to. As ready as he would ever be, he glanced at Winona and tapped a finger on the Hawken, their prearranged cue for what was to happen next. “I’m awful glad to hear there are only the four of you,” he remarked.

  “How so, Mr. King?” Mabel asked.

  “Shortly before we left to come here, a couple of strangers tried to kill my son.”

  Mabel’s good-natured disposition was only skin deep. “What happened to them?” she demanded gruffly. “Did they get away?”

  “I should think you’d be more interested in how my son was doing.”

  “Oh, surely,” Mabel caught herself. “I just meant it would be a shame if those polecats weren’t made to pay. Did you catch them?”

  “My son is fine.” Nate deliberately avoided answering her. He had a plan. With Winona and him outnumbered as badly as they were, they had to rely on their wits to give them an edge. His plan called for getting the Coyfields rattled, so rattled they would make costly mistakes.

  “And those two strangers?” Mabel prodded.

  “That’s a story in itself,” Nate said, raising his voice a bit so the man in the grass and the one at the south end of the cabin could hear. “I lit out after them. Took me a while, but I caught up.”

  When Nate did not go on, Mabel took a step and impatiently said, “You fixin’ to tell us or leave us in the dark?”

  “You really want to hear it?” Nate innocently rejoined.
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  “Yes,” Mabel said, much more harshly than was called for. “I mean, we’ve had our own share of run-ins with mangy coyotes, so of course we’d be interested.” She nodded at her husband. “Ain’t that so, Jacob?”

  “Sure is, Ma.”

  Nate pulled his hat a little lower, then nonchalantly rested his right hand on the Hawken. “If you insist. But there’s not much to tell. I caught up with them and made them get off their horses.”

  Mabel was gnawing on her lower lip. “Who were they?”

  “They wouldn’t say, at first,” Nate said. An eyeball had appeared at the corner of the cabin, watching him balefully. And over in the grass, stems had parted enough to reveal a patch of beard and an eyebrow. The Coyfields were being remarkably careless in their worry over their kin.

  “But you got them to talk?”

  “I sure did. They told me everything.”

  In the cabin, Tinder Coyfield whispered to Cindy Lou, “Did you hear that? He’s talkin’ about Hap and Vin! He knows! The bastard knows!”

  “Then why did him and the squaw ride right up like they done?” Cindy Lou shook her head. “Nobody is that stupid.”

  “He’s another damned Yankee, ain’t he? None of them have a lick of sense.”

  On the bed, Felicity Ward quietly twisted and tucked her knees to her chest. She had a hunch what Nate was up to and she wanted to play a part when the bloodbath commenced. Cindy Lou’s backside was a leg’s length away.

  Outside, Winona King was being ignored. The Coyfields were interested only in what her husband had to say. None of them saw her wrap both hands around her rifle, or shift so she faced the front of the cabin.

  Nate had paused again, knowing it would annoy Mabel and Jacob and the hidden listeners. He was counting on them to grow a lot more annoyed before he was done – so annoyed, they would give rein to their anger, to their regret. An angry person was a careless person; the angrier they became, the more careless they would be.