Dakota Cowboy

Other voices called. She recognized the sheriff’s voice asking what happened.

She leaned over her knees and tried to catch her breath.

“What we gonna do?”

“Let me think.” They had a few minutes while the sheriff investigated, but she knew Smitty had set it up to look like self-defense when it was clear and simple murder. Only Roy and Lucy knew the truth. And Louie, who would never tell. He’d probably been cheering in the background when Smitty shot the unarmed man.

Her heart rate spiked again. Smitty wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of anyone who could testify against him.

How long would it take for everyone to accept Smitty’s version of what transpired? How long did it give her to come up with a plan of escape?

“Come on.” She practically dragged Roy toward the dining room. They couldn’t stay there. It would be the first place Smitty would look. All he had to do was wait for her to…

Her heart climbed up her throat and clawed at the back of her mouth.

“Hurry. We have to find someplace to hide.” She burst into her room and grabbed up her Bible, which held her meager life savings in an envelope. She grabbed a battered valise Hettie had given her and randomly threw some articles of clothing on top of her Bible having no idea where she would go. She only knew that it wasn’t safe here.

She headed for the door, paused. She didn’t want Hettie and Harry to worry so she scribbled a note and left it on her pillow. “Went to visit my father. Will contact you later.”

It was an excuse they would believe.

“What are we gonna do?” Roy’s voice thinned with fear.

She grabbed his hand. “Follow me.” She had no plan except escape.

They slipped out of her room and clung to the black shadows as they made their way to the edge of town opposite the livery barn. A commotion indicated the sheriff was still investigating along with every curious citizen who had come running at the sound of a gunshot.

Smitty wouldn’t be able to look for them until that was settled.

Roy yanked away. “If we’re leaving, I’m taking Queenie.” Mr. Peterson had given Roy an old nag of a horse. Roy diligently tethered her where she could nibble grass and faithfully carried water to her.

“Roy, we don’t have time.”

“We could ride her.”

There was something to that. “Where is she?”

He named a place and they head in that direction. “We’ll stop and get her.”

They just might get away in time.

Two Bit whinnied.

“What is it, boy?” Wade tipped his head and listened. He heard it a minute later—the sound of an approaching rider.

He scooped up his rifle and lounged with deceptive casualness. In his experience only trouble came riding into camp before dawn.

“Wade, are you there?”

His heart skidded sideways and crashed into his ribs. “Lucy, is that you?” What was she doing out before the sky had begun to lighten?

She rode up to him.

He grabbed the bridle of her horse, all the time alert for signs of danger. When he saw none, he relaxed. “You’ve decided to come with me?” he teased. She’d made it abundantly clear wild horses and six mad bulls wouldn’t drag her to the ranch.

“On one condition.”

He wished he could see her better. Assure himself she was teasing because, plain and simple, he didn’t believe she meant it.

“Yeah.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Wade, I mean it. I’ll go with you to see my father if you agree—” She glanced over her shoulder. Roy peeked around her arm. “You agree to take Roy.”

Wade wasn’t much for fancy talk. Sometimes he had to search for words. It came from spending most of his waking hours with nothing but cows, horses and equally untalkative cowboys. But for the life of him he couldn’t find even one word in his surprised brain. Not one word to say to this gal who had changed her mind faster than Dakota weather.

“Wade, we’ll go with you. But we have to hurry.” Her urgent tone caused his brain to burst into a gallop.

“What’s the rush?” He could feel the nervous tension vibrating from the pair. No way was he taking a step anywhere until he knew what was going on.

“I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

No mistaking the way her voice quivered. He guessed it was fear or nervousness. “What’s the hurry?”

“Smitty is after us.”

He knew about Smitty. Anyone who had been in town more than a few hours knew of the man. Either by word of mouth or by encounter. Wade had seen him in the store a couple of days ago. Had been forced to witness the man blatantly threaten a farmer over some disputed fence line. From what Wade gathered, the farmer was within his rights but it was plain as dirt on a white shirt that Smitty didn’t care about what was right. And certainly didn’t intend to let it interfere with his plans.

After the pair left, he asked the store owner why the sheriff didn’t do something. The man said, “He’d like to, but so far no one will testify against Smitty.”

“He’s gonna kill us.” Roy’s voice shook. All the kid’s bravado had vanished.

Roy’s fear sent Wade’s nerves into full alert. “Why?”

“Smitty killed a man in cold blood. We saw him. Smitty doesn’t want any witnesses.” Lucy’s voice trembled so bad he wanted to scoop her from the horse and hold her tight, assure her he’d keep her safe.

“You going to help or just stare at the horse’s nostrils?”

Wade laughed. “Lucy gal, you sure do have a sweet way of asking.”

“Phweet. If I’d known you expected sweet talk I’d give it, but right now I think urgency is a little more important.”

“Why don’t we just to tell the sheriff the truth?”

“You don’t know Smitty.” Her voice was tight, signaling her fear. “He’ll convince everyone the shooting was self-defense. He’ll already have half a dozen men as nasty as him watching for us. We wouldn’t make it two steps in town before he or one of them would grab us. We wouldn’t get anywhere near the sheriff.” Her words grew more urgent. “The best thing we can do is go somewhere and hide.”

“I expect you’re right. Good thing I was ready to go.” He settled the saddle on Two Bit, stuck his rifle in the boot and swung up. He paused to have a good look at the other horse in the gray light. “Where did you find that old nag?”

“She’s a good old horse.” Roy sounded a whole lot more like himself as he defended the bag of bones.