Longarm and the Wyoming Woman (7 page)

“Where you headed?” Mike Galloway asked when the money changed hands.

“Maybe up into the Laramie Mountains,” Longarm said.

“Are you serious?” Not waiting for or expecting an answer, Mike shook his head. “Man, those mountains will already be covered with snow. You go up there and you might get buried in the stuff. We get blizzards this time of year here in Wyoming.”

“Then maybe we'll ride south to Old Mexico,” Longarm told the liveryman because he didn't appreciate being lectured. “No blizzards any time of the year in Mexico.”

Mike Galloway was a pugnacious-looking Irishman. He was a good and honest man, but he tended to be too free giving advice, and seemed a little on the self-important side for Longarm's liking.

“Mexico? Mister, are you serious?”

“Why not?” Longarm asked while Addie rolled her eyes.

“Why that's a long, long way!” the Irishman exclaimed. “You couldn't get to Mexico in a month! Maybe three months. Why, you'd have to ride through Colorado, Oklahoma, maybe half of Nevada, and the corner of California. Hell, you'd have to ride all over the place to get there.”

Longarm had to struggle to keep from chuckling. “You're right,” he agreed with a feigned tone of fatalism. “I guess we'll just go down to Santa Fe, New Mexico, for the winter.”

Galloway nodded. “That sounds a whole lot more sensible, mister. Old Santa Fe is a real nice town to winter up in. Real nice.”

Longarm started to ask the know-it-all Irishman if he'd ever been in Santa Fe, but he knew the man would say he had and Longarm knew it would be a lie, so he just nodded.

They collected their newly purchased supplies, weapons, ammunition, and all the rest of their provisions and the bill totaled exactly $125. There was a nice-looking woman now behind the counter beside the store owner, and she was sure giving Longarm and Addie secretive looks, but trying not to stare.

“I told you,” Longarm said as he tied down their newly purchased provisions and mounted the tall buckskin.

“Told you what?” Addie asked, swinging up on her red roan.

“That he'd tell his wife right away. And I'll bet you we don't get to the end of the street corner before that woman scoots out of the store and rushes off to tell
all
her female friends.”

“You're cynical, Custis. Give us ladies a little credit for discretion.”

“Whatever you say,” Longarm replied. “But when we hit the end of the street, turn around in your saddle and I'll bet you a dollar that woman is out the door and on her way to gossip up a storm.”

Addie didn't say anything, but when they reached the end of the street, she did twist around in her saddle for a moment.

“Well?” Longarm asked as they rode out of Cheyenne. “Was I right or not?”

“Don't get me riled up,” Addie warned. “Because you're going to need a doctor, friend, and straight shooter before this is over.”

Longarm suppressed a smile. He was right about the store owner's wife, of course. But Addie was also right about him needing her to watch his backside when they hit Buffalo Falls.

Longarm and Addie really pushed their horses for the first two days, but on a cold and blustery third day while galloping across the rolling hills, Addie's roan mare stepped in a badger hole and did a complete somersault. Addie was pitched down hard on the prairie grass, and the mare had to struggle just to get back on her feet.

Longarm had been galloping stirrup to stirrup with the young woman, and when she and her horse tumbled, he reined up and then hurried back. Dismounting, he ran to the girl's side. “Addie!”

She was dazed, hurt, and moaning in confusion. Longarm cradled Addie's head in his lap and held her close, hoping that she hadn't sustained a fatal spine or internal injury. This was a bad place to have a wreck. There was a storm bearing down on them and not a farm or ranch house as far as the eye could see. If Addie was badly hurt, he had no idea where they could get medical help.

“Addie!” He shook her gently.

After a few minutes, she finally stirred, but when she looked up at Longarm, she seemed unable to focus.

“Addie, it's me, Custis! Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, sounding very tired and more than a little confused. “What . . . what happened?”

“Your mare went down into a badger hole and did a complete flip. I was riding just ahead and didn't see it happen, but you must have hit the ground very hard. Maybe your horse landed on you. I don't know. Can you move your hands and feet?”

Longarm's greatest concern was that Addie had suffered a terrible spine injury, leaving her paralyzed. But to his great relief, Addie was able to move her extremities. However, she said that her vision was blurred and she felt sick to her stomach.

“You're the doctor, but my guess is that you've suffered a real bad concussion,” he said. “I've had a few of my own and I know that this will pass after you've had rest.”

Addie tried to look around. “What about my poor horse?”

The mare had struggled up on three legs, and was hobbling over to join Longarm's buckskin. “Addie, I'm afraid that your mare is also hurt.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Go see if she broke her leg, Custis. If she did, the poor horse will be in terrible pain and you'll have to shoot her.”

“I'll get you some water to drink first.”

Addie blinked and tried to grin. “Whiskey might make me feel better, but it wouldn't be what a doctor would order.”

He eased her head back down on the dry brown grass. “I'll get my canteen and check on your horse.”

“Dammit, Custis, I didn't see that badger hole.”

“Some of them are covered over by grass or even filled up a little from the summer rains,” Longarm told her. “Hold tight and I'll be right back.”

He rushed over to his buckskin and retrieved his canteen. Then he took a moment to catch the roan, who was now gently putting her injured left foreleg back down on the grass. Still, the mare didn't want it to take on very much of her weight. Longarm gathered the mare's reins and slowly led her around for a few moments. The mare's leg wasn't broken, but the horse was definitely lame.

Longarm tied the mare's reins to his saddle horn, and then led both horses back close to Addie, who was trying to sit up.

“Your roan's leg isn't broken,” Longarm told her. “That's the good news. The bad news is that she's very lame.”

Addie swore like a soldier. “Help me to sit up, Custis.”

He eased her to a sitting position, and she closed one eye and said, “I'm seeing double so I do have a severe concussion.”

“We'll make camp,” he told her, shouting into a rising wind. “It's getting late in the day and these horses are worn out.”

“I think that you're the one that's worn out.”

“You got that right,” he agreed. They both heard the clap of thunder in the darkening sky. “Addie, how much farther is it to Buffalo Falls or your ranch?”

“I was hoping that we could get there soon after dark. Can you see those low foothills off to the east?”

Longarm followed her gaze. “Yeah.”

“Our ranch, the Lazy H, is right at the base of those hills.”

“Where the hell is Buffalo Falls?”

“About five miles to the northeast of our ranch.”

Since they were in trouble, Longarm wanted to make sure that he understood her correctly. “So your ranch is between us and the town?”

“Yes.” She gripped Longarm's wrist. “Maybe we could ride double on your buckskin the rest of the way and still get to the ranch before midnight.”

But Longarm shook his head. “If we did that, we'd have to leave the mare. She's in even more pain than you are.”

“My fault. I was so intent on getting home and I wasn't even watching for badger holes.”

Longarm knew that they needed shelter and that a storm was almost upon them. He studied the land and said, “There's a stand of cottonwoods about a mile or two farther ahead, and that means there must be running water. There's also bound to be enough cottonwood to give us fuel for a fire, and we've got rain slickers and plenty of food.”

“Is that rumbling thunder I hear so close, or is the sound coming from my aching head?” Addie asked.

“It's thunder. The sky is darkening, and I'm afraid that we're going to get drenched before too much longer.”

“Could be snow and not rain,” Addie said, shivering. “It's not going to be a good night to be camping out here on the short grass.”

“I know that,” Longarm told her. “But you're in no condition to travel and neither is your mare. Maybe by morning, you'll both be able to go on.”

“We'll have to be ready,” Addie said. “I left the main wagon road way back this morning and cut straight across the range to shorten the distance to our ranch. Nobody will come along this way and help us out here in these rolling hills.”

“We'll make out fine,” Longarm said. “I'm going to lift you up on my gelding. Do you think you can hang on to the saddle horn until we reach the cottonwoods?”

“I think so,” she said, shaking her head as if to clear her vision. “But if I start to fall, then tie me to your saddle.”

Longarm hoisted Addie into his saddle, and then took a few minutes to shorten his stirrups so that she could ride easier. He collected the mare's reins as well as those of his own horse, and set out leading them to the distant cottonwoods. The wind was getting stronger and the dark thunderheads seemed to be bearing down on them with bad intentions.

Longarm wasn't even sure that he could make it to the cover of the trees, but he sure meant to try.

Longarm had underestimated the distance to the cottonwoods by at least a mile. And by the time he led Addie and the two horses into the shelter of those big, leafless trees, the wind was moaning and sleet was starting to pelt him in the face. Bare tree limbs were flailing wildly, and the wind was now a steady and icy blast coming all the way down from Canada.

The stand of cottonwoods did flank a creek, and Longarm led the way down into the wash, where there was at least some shelter from the driving wind and sleet. He tied the horses in the thickest of the trees to give them shelter, and then he pulled Addie from his saddle and carried her along the waterway, searching both banks for cover.

He got lucky when he found a cut-out place under the bank. He laid Addie down and used his bare hands to enlarge what was going to have to be their night's shelter. Afterward, he dragged limbs and logs over to help make a stout windbreak. Pulling Addie as far under the freshly enlarged cutback as he could, Longarm paused to assess their situation. It wasn't good. Wasn't good at all, but it was far better than being caught in this storm on the exposed prairie.

Addie was shivering and slipping in and out of consciousness. Longarm unsaddled their horses and covered Addie with horse blankets, then gathered as much dry wood and grass as he could get before everything around them was drenched. After striking four matches, he finally was able to cup his hands and get a few blades of grass to burn along with some brittle little branches. After that, it wasn't difficult to get a good fire crackling.

Longarm left Addie and barged back out in the storm to make sure that their horses were securely tied. He gave them handfuls of grain and hoped they would huddle up and not suffer too badly on this freezing and miserable Wyoming night.

He used his rain slicker to cover part of the opening to his little cave under the stream bank, and dragged all their provisions as well as his Winchester and the shotgun under its cover. Satisfied that he'd done everything possible to weather this sudden storm, he finally squeezed back under the shelter bank shivering violently.

Whiskey.

He remembered that the store owner in Cheyenne had sold them whiskey and that he and Addie hadn't drunk all that much of it on their first two nights out. Longarm found the whiskey and a dry cigar. He took a deep swallow of the liquor, and then lit his cigar in the campfire that was now burning brightly not a foot from where he huddled.

“Could be worse,” he said, blowing smoke out in the hard wind and sleet and watching it disappear in an instant. “Could be one hell of a lot worse.”

“Not much,” Addie said, startling him.

Longarm turned to the woman, who was buried under horse blankets. “You're awake again.”

“Yes. How about a pull on that bottle?”

“You're the doctor,” he said.

“That's right, and whiskey is what I'm prescribing for my throbbing headache.”

Addie took a generous swallow, then a second, and lay back against the dirt bank. She stared at the fire a moment and said, “Funny, but this isn't the first time that I've been huddled under a cutback like this.”

“No?” Longarm asked. Addie's voice was a little slurred, but not so much that he couldn't understand her words. “What happened? Did you get caught in another storm?”

“Uh-uh,” she said. “One summer when I was about fifteen, I was riding out on the range by myself searching for strays. It was a nice enough day, but this one big dark cloud was overhead, and suddenly a bolt of lightning shot out of it and caused a prairie fire.” Addie shivered. “Have you ever been caught in one of those, Custis?”

“Can't say that I have. I've heard stories about them, though. They can really move fast. I've heard that, if they're being pushed by a hard wind, they can outrun any living thing.”