The Western Chronicles
by B L Miller and Vada Foster
7: Divvying up the booty
Josie rode back to the campsite and took inventory of the supplies. The men were well stocked, with full compliments of weapons and supplies. The guns were useless to her, being of inferior quality to her own. She stuffed some bullets into a pouch and tied it to her saddle horn. Never can have too many bullets, she mused. She was about to search the tents for the best bedroll when she heard the sound of Rebecca vomiting off in the bushes. Cursing herself mentally, Josie went to check on the young woman.
Rebecca was just wiping her mouth when Josie walked up to her. "I told you not to follow. What part of that don't you understand?" The outlaw said angrily, although she was slightly concerned about the pallor of the girl's face. The paleness only served to accent the bruises more.
"I understood you perfectly." Rebecca replied angrily. She was embarrassed to be seen in such a state; after all, the dead men were bandits. But the sight of their dead bodies still made the innocent girl sad for the loss of life. "You can't take all their stuff, so I see no reason why I can't pick through it too. After all, I could use some of these things as well."
"Suit yourself, little girl." Josie said evenly.
"My name is Rebecca!" She retorted. "And I'm not a little girl."
"Makes no difference to me." Josie replied as she headed back to rummage through the men's belongings.
Exiting a tent with her new bedroll in hand, Josie noticed the scent of fresh meat cooking. Looking at the fire, she saw that Rebecca had thrown more logs on and was cooking up some of the food that the dead men had left behind. The outlaw's stomach growled as the pleasant odor conjured up memories of long ago meals. One thing that Josie had no skill at was cooking.
"There's plenty for both of us." Rebecca said as she continued to turn over the cooking beef. She kept her eyes on the food, fearful of the possible angry look that might be coming from the outlaw. "I mean, there's no sense wasting it. The meat won't travel well and if we don't eat it, then the vultures will." Josie conceded the point, making her stomach grumble again with joy at the thought of decent food. Without saying a word, Josie continued to search the camp for useful items. She came up with a small folding shovel, several pieces of flint, a few dollars and coins, two more canteens, and spare clothes. Her saddlebags were full of the much-needed supplies by the time Rebecca announced that the food was ready to eat.
Rebecca waited a few minutes for the outlaw to come over and pick up the plate of beef and beans before making a plate of her own. Without a sound, Josie sat down on the other side of the fire and started to eat her food. Rebecca quietly passed her the canteen of water. Josie made no effort to take it, concentrating solely on eating the tasty food. Setting the water flask on the ground between them, Rebecca turned her attention back to her dinner. She was spooning some more beans on her plate when she saw Josie reach out toward her, plate in hand. Rebecca suppressed a smile as she scooped the food onto the outlaw's plate.
After wiping her plate with the last of the bread from the men's camp, Josie set the dirty dish and utensils down on the ground. Without so much as a thank you, she rose to her feet and wandered off. Rebecca sat quietly by the dying fire, afraid to leave and afraid to stay. The big horse was munching on some grass nearby, so she knew that the outlaw would be back. Deciding between the unknown and the murderer who had already threatened to kill her, Rebecca maintained her position by the fire.
Rebecca had used up most of the loose kindling while trying to keep the fire going. It was now twilight and she was beginning to wonder if Josie really was going to come back, despite the evidence of Phoenix standing nearby.
"You still here?" Rebecca jumped at the sound of the outlaw's voice just behind her. Josie continued to walk past her until she reached the opposite side of the fire. She dropped an armful of wood onto the ground. Reaching for a nearby hatchet, Josie cut the branches into usable lengths, throwing several directly into the fire.
"I-I didn't know if I should leave or not. I mean, I wouldn't want you to have to kill anyone else or anything." Rebecca said nervously. Josie said nothing as she continued to chop the wood. Uncertain of what else to do, the young woman got up and started to walk around the camp, heading for the still-tethered horses of the dead men. Rifling through the saddlebags, she found a pen and a small bottle of ink. She didn't find any paper or parchment. A more thorough search revealed only small scraps of paper and a pocket-sized bible. There was a blank page preceding the beginning of the familiar book, but Rebecca didn't dare use it. She had once bent the corner of a page in her father's bible and received a sound whipping for it. Putting the bible back in the saddlebag, the young woman returned to the fireside.
Josie was finished cutting the wood and was now intently cleaning one of her guns. Positioning herself so she could watch the outlaw but not be too close, Rebecca sat down. The long fingers moved gracefully across the smooth steel, polishing it with an old, stained piece of cloth. Rebecca heard the soft click as Josie opened the barrel to clean it. Hours seemed to fly by as the outlaw cleaned all of her weapons and the young woman watched.
The warm fire, the filling meal, and the hypnotic rhythm of Josie's hand rubbing the polishing cloth across the steel all served to lull Rebecca to sleep. The outlaw watched her for a few moments before covering her with one of the blankets. Hours later, Josie still sat there, wondering why this young girl seemed so intent on following her.
8: Mason's Gulch
"Get up." Josie roughly nudged the sleeping woman with her silver-tipped boot.
"Hrrummphhh." The sleeping form snuggled deeper under the covers.
"Get up now or I leave you behind." Josie snarled. Rebecca quickly sat up and tried to bring herself to wakefulness. "You've got one minute to make a trip to the woods, then I'm leaving."
"No breakfast?" She whined as she stood up and stretched. Josie looked at her and frowned.
"You can't travel around dressed like that." Josie said as she looked at the long peasant dress and soft soled shoes.
"What am I supposed to wear?" She called as she headed into the woods. Josie walked into one of the tents and selected two shirts and two pairs of britches.
Tossing them in a pile on top of Rebecca's blanket, the outlaw set out to find the small man that had been the previous owner of the clothes.
"Put these on." Josie pointed at the clothes pile, which now included a pair of pointed toed boots and a beige Stetson. Rebecca picked up the clothes and looked at her, then at the tent, then back to her. "I'm not waiting all day." Josie said as she crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow at the young woman.
"Sorry." Rebecca murmured. She reached up to undo the first button, then looked at the outlaw. Josie scowled and muttered a curse before turning around to double check the cinch of Phoenix's saddle. Rebecca quickly undressed and slipped into the britches. They were a little loose and slightly too long for the small woman.
"What about the corset?" She asked as she reached behind her for the laces.
"You'll be more comfortable without it", was the reply. Rebecca quickly removed the corset and slipped on the loose fitting shirt. "I'll saddle up one of these horses for you," Josie offered. Rebecca was tugging the new boots on when Josie started toward the string of horses and the young woman hopped after her, pulling on the last boot.
"I can't...ride alone," she protested even as the gunslinger tightened the girth on the smallest of the horses. "I'm scared of horses. One kicked me when I was a little girl, and since then I can't bear to be on a horse by myself. Please, can't I just ride with you? I feel safe when you're up there with me." Josie looked into the innocent green eyes of the young blonde, and saw that she was most sincere about her fear of horses. Even so, it was not practical for them to ride double over a prolonged period of time; it would be hard on the horse, not to mention uncomfortable for Josie. Only in bed did she like to be close to a woman. When the loving was over, she wanted her space. With a shrug, Josie draped the usable supplies the dead men no longer needed on the back of the horse she had saddled, and untied the rest. She had planned on keeping two of the men's horses, but if Rebecca would not ride, there was no point. She led the little horse to where Phoenix stood waiting for her, and effortlessly vaulted into the saddle. She looked down at the younger woman whose expectant face was turned toward her.
"You'll have to walk," she said emotionlessly. "I can't put the extra weight on Phoenix in this heat." She made a clicking sound with her tongue, and the big golden mare started moving, the smaller horse following obediently behind. With a sigh, the blonde fell in with the parade.
As the morning wore on Rebecca fell further and further behind. Her feet hurt too much from the previous days walking to keep up with the well-rested mare. Her stomach grumbled from lack of food, and her normally sunny disposition was turning noticeably cloudy. "Josie," she called to the woman far ahead. "Josie, please wait!" The young woman watched as the horse stopped. When it was obvious that Josie wasn't going to come back to see what she wanted, Rebecca broke into a trot to catch up to the outlaw before she changed her mind and decided to ride on. She drew alongside the horse and rider, and gasped as she fought to catch her breath.
"I can hardly walk anymore," she said petulantly. "My feet are killing me, and I'm starving. Don't outlaws eat?" The tone in Rebecca's voice, and the little girl pout on her face almost made Josie laugh out loud. She turned away, and managed to put a serious scowl on her face.
"Yes. We eat little blonde farm-girls for breakfast. How nice for me there's one so handy."
Rebecca raised her hand to slap the gunslinger on the thigh, but the look in the ice blue eyes made her think twice. She dropped her hand and grumbled, "I'm serious. Please, can't we stop and eat?"
"Oh, all right." Josie slid from the back of the horse, and looking around for a shady spot, she saw a small grove of trees over a small rise. "Can you walk that far?" she asked, pointing to the oasis in the distance. Rebecca nodded, and eagerly began trekking up the hill. Josie watched as the blonde walked away, and a smile came to her face. She gave her head a little shake wondering not for the first time what had possessed her to allow this slip of a girl to talk her way along for the ride.
Rebecca threw herself down in the shade of a large oak tree, and pulled the boots from her aching feet. Blisters had formed and many had broken already, leaving her feet oozing and raw. Having her feet bare so she could feel a cooling breeze on them felt wonderful. Josie tethered the horses a few feet away but still in the shade, and rummaged in her saddlebag for some jerky. She unwound the strap of the canteen from the saddle horn and walked to where the younger woman was lying in the grass. Her eyes widened as she saw the condition of Rebecca's feet, and she mentally kicked herself for insisting that the poor woman walk. She dropped down beside the little blonde and thrust the canteen into one of her hands, and a hunk of jerky into the other. Rebecca had been almost dozing with her eyes closed, but when she felt the canteen against her hand, she opened her eyes and smiled at the outlaw.
"Thanks," she said gratefully, tipping the canteen to her dry lips and taking a large swallow. She coughed as a bit of the liquid went down the wrong pipe.
"Easy does it," Josie admonished her. "Won't do you much good if you choke yourself to death." From where she sat, Josie could see the dark smudges that marred the pretty face of the innocent girl. Beneath the purple bruises was evidence of earlier beatings. Josie put her finger under Rebecca's chin, and turned her head up to get a better look. "Who did this?" Josie asked softly. Rebecca's eyes began to glisten with tears as she watched the outlaw's examination of her discolored cheek. She lowered her head when Josie finally let go.
"My father."
"Somebody should give him a taste of his own medicine." Josie whispered through clenched teeth. She silently promised herself that if she should ever encounter the man she would gladly do just that.
Rebecca shook her head, and the tears that were pooled in her eyes slipped down her cheeks. "He's not a bad man, really," she protested. "He was a good father; very strict with us children, but usually fair. When my brother was killed in the war, he sort of...snapped. Then he started drinking, and when he drinks...."
"You don't have to tell me. I've been around plenty of that type of man. But you shouldn't excuse him. What happened to your brother had nothing to do with you."
"I know, but..."
"No," Josie said sternly. She thought of her own father, the kindest most gentle man she had ever known and wished that the innocent girl beside her could have grown up in such a safe and caring environment. "A father should never hurt his children, no matter what." Feeling emotions so close to the surface was awkward for Josie, and she stood up and let her eyes roam around the surrounding countryside as if she was looking for something. "I'll be right back," she said abruptly. She walked toward a clump of bushes in the distance, and within a few minutes was out of Rebecca's sight.
Rebecca watched the tall black clad woman walk away. She couldn't imagine what had caused her to leave so suddenly unless she was looking for a place to relieve herself. With a sigh, Rebecca started to chew on the dry jerky. Her appetite seemed to have deserted her and she thought about tossing the jerky away, but realized she would undoubtedly want it later. She slid the piece of dried meat into her pocket and lay down in the cool grass to wait for the gunslinger to return.
Josie stood gazing down at the still form under the tree. Rebecca's face was relaxed in sleep, her lips slightly parted. How child-like she seemed to the toughened older woman. Yet she was not a child. Josie reckoned she must be about eighteen, which was considerably older than she herself had been when she found herself on her own. She found herself wanting to protect her from any further abuse. "Hey, wake up lazy bones," she said softly. Rebecca still breathed with sleep, so the gunslinger knelt down beside her and said a little louder, "I brought dessert." The green eyes flew open and focused on Josie who held her vest in her hands with a large bulge hanging down.
"Dessert?" Rebecca yawned and stretched. Josie laid the vest on the ground to reveal a mound of plump ripe blackberries. A huge grin spread across Rebecca's face. Her appetite returned with a vengeance at the sight of those juicy berries. She grabbed one and popped it in her mouth, pushing her tongue against the roof of her mouth to squeeze the juice throughout her mouth. "Ohhh, that's heaven," she breathed as she reached for another. Josie watched as one after another the berries disappeared into the ravenous girl. Suddenly it occurred to Rebecca that she had eaten all the fruit and Josie had none.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eat them all. I'll go pick you some more." She started to rise, but Josie put her hand on her shoulder.
"Not necessary. I ate a bunch while I was picking them. Sit back and let me have a look at your feet." She sat on the ground and brought Rebecca's feet to her lap. They looked too tender to attempt to put footwear on without allowing the blisters some healing time. "I'm afraid you won't be able to wear those boots again any time soon."
"Oh, tarnation. I was just beginning to like them," she said sarcastically.
"Stay here," Josie said, rising and crossing to her saddlebags where she found a roll of gauze. She returned to where Rebecca sat and once again took her feet in her hands. Gently she wrapped the gauze around each foot in turn and then tied it loosely around Rebecca's ankles.
"Not very fashionable, but it should keep the dirt out of those blisters until they heal a bit." Josie stood up and held out her hand to the young woman, who grasped it in both of hers. Josie tugged her to her feet and then swept her into her arms. She walked to Phoenix and stood Rebecca on her feet briefly so she could grasp her waist. She lifted her up and boosted her onto the horse's rump.
"Looks like you get your wish after all," she said as she swung up into the saddle. "Put your arms around my waist and hold on." Josie said as she urged Phoenix into a trot. Both women were left to their own thoughts as they rode west. Rebecca held on tight as she bounced up and down with each step of the massive horse's hooves, her thoughts on the painful past she was leaving behind.
"Whoa." Josie pulled Phoenix to a stop just before the edge of town. "Get down." She watched as Rebecca slid down off the horse.
"What's wrong?" The runaway asked as she watched the outlaw reach into the saddlebags and pull out her dress.
"Put this on." Josie said as she handed her the garment. "You don't want to be seen with me. It'll be easier for you if you're in your own clothes. You'll be safe there."
"Wait. Aren't you coming?" Rebecca reached up and touched the outlaw's thigh as Josie climbed back into the saddle.
"No. It's not safe for me to go there. There's a price on my head, you know." She looked down at the hand and arched an eyebrow. Rebecca gulped and moved her hand.
"Sorry. Just a habit, I guess. I like to touch people while I'm talking to them." A momentary silence fell between them. "Do you want me to get anything for you? I mean, I can go and bring it back."
"You expect me to trust you with my money?" Josie asked incredulously.
"I haven't lied to you yet. I didn't have to offer, you know." Rebecca was hurt by her distrust. Josie's blue eyes bore down on her, trying to search for signs of deceit. The young woman's face showed pure innocence and honesty. Although cautious, Josie decided to take a chance. There were too many things she needed that couldn't be found on the prairie.
"All right. I'll trust you." Josie said as she dismounted. Quicker than Rebecca could react, the outlaws hands were on her upper arms, squeezing painfully. "But if you cross me, I'll send you to your maker without a thought." Her words were firm and full of threat.
"Y-yes. Please, you're hurting me." She looked at the hands gripping her arms as tears started to blur her eyes. Josie let go and turned to open the saddlebag.
"Do you know how to read?"
"Of course I know how to read. I can write too. Actually I'm a very good writer, if I do say so myself. I do mostly poems and children's tales, but I'd really like to become a pulp writer, you know, writing stories about famous people and places and...."
"I only asked you if you could read," Josie said, annoyed. She pulled out the ink, pen, and paper, then wrote out a short list of necessary supplies. The total was less than six bits. She could afford to lose that if it was a trick. Handing Rebecca the note, she said "Don't tell anyone who this is for, and don't mention my name to anyone. When you have everything, come back here."
"Okay." Rebecca maintained a straight face, but inside she was jumping for joy at the chance to do something to help the woman who had saved her life, twice.
Mason's Gulch was a typical western town. Several small buildings formed the only street. A large stable occupied the far end of town. The standard businesses were there; a telegraph office, jail, saloon, smithy, bank, hotel, general store, and doctor's office. Rebecca quickly set out to find the items on the short list.
She was in the general store, picking up the last item on Josie's list, a spool of fine thread for stitching. As she approached the counter, she heard the owner and another man talking. She stopped at the end of the isle and listened. Judging from the star on the other man's vest, he had to be the sheriff.
"...I'm telling ya, there ain't no way we're gonna be able to hang on to our skins and our belongings both. I say we hand over what they demand and ask them to spare our lives."
"Mike, what makes you think they gonna just take the money and git? If'n we give up, they gonna just kill us all anyway. I say we fight 'em," the sheriff replied. "If we can get enough men up on the roofs we can ambush 'em. We can't just sit here and wait for 'em to slaughter us like cattle."
Rebecca moved forward and placed the purchases on the counter. The sheriff put his fingers to the brim of his hat and tipped it slightly in acknowledgment of the young lady. Mike smiled as he wrapped up her order. "Two bits, miss."
"Who are you talking about?" She asked as she handed him the coins. "You're not from 'round here, are ya?" Mike asked.
"No, I'm just passing through."
"Well, I hope your husband is well armed. The Caram gang is heading this way." The name was well known to Rebecca. This gang of thieves was famous for their brutality, and their skill at eluding capture. As far as she knew none of them had ever been apprehended, and their numbers increased constantly.
"Are you going to fight them?"
"There'r too many of 'em. We're mostly farmers. We don't got the skills or the know how to fight 'em." He looked at the storeowner, then back at her. "I suggest you head back 't where you come from 'n warn 'em. A farmer from just over the ridge said he saw their camp yesterday, about a days ride from here. I reckon they'll be riding through here at first light t'morrow."
As Rebecca headed back to the edge of town, she noticed the multitude of women and small children. She had heard the stories about the Caram gang. Even children were not safe from those murdering cutthroats. She quickened her pace, and her feet protested the abuse. Her shoes were better than the boots, but still pained her quite a bit.
Josie came out from behind some trees after making certain that Rebecca was alone. "Did you get everything?" She asked as she approached.
"Yes. Josie, have you heard of the Caram gang?"
"Not a decent one in the lot from what I hear," she said as she took the goods out of Rebecca's hands and began to stash it in her saddlebags.
"They're going to ride into Mason's Gulch tomorrow."
"Then I think we'd better put some distance between us and Mason's Gulch before the sun goes down," the gunslinger said as she tightened the strap on the saddlebag. Rebecca stared at her thunderstruck, unable to believe any woman could be so callous about the lives of innocent people. Josie stared back until the younger woman at last looked away. Rebecca turned on her heel, and marched off toward town.
"Where are you going?" the outlaw asked.
Without turning back Rebecca replied, "I'm going to do what I can to help those people."
"You'll just get yourself killed, and that's no help to anyone," Josie said sharply.
Rebecca paused and said over her shoulder, "Maybe so. But at least I will have tried." She started up again and had gone several yards down the road when Josie called after her.
"What are their defenses?" Josie couldn't see the smile that lit up Rebecca's face because she looked very serious by the time she turned around and came back to where the gunslinger stood.
"I heard the sheriff say that they don't think they can stand up to the gang. Josie, there's children in that town. Those killers won't care."
"What makes you think I do?"
"I don't know." Rebecca stared into the blue eyes of the outlaw. This time it was Josie who broke the eye contact; it was too unnerving. "I guess I just don't think you would let small children die."
"If I go into that town, they'll hang me from a rope before sundown."
"No they won't. Josie, you're their only hope. Come into town with me. We'll meet with the townsfolk. I'm sure they'll want your help."
"I can't go into town, Rebecca. It's too dangerous. Do you know what they'll do to you if they find out you're with me?"
"If the Caram gang destroys this town, Chancetown is next. They have to listen to me. I have an idea. Stay here." Rebecca turned and ran back to town, ignoring the still burning ache in her overused leg muscles and the sting of her blistered feet.
"This had better be good," Josie muttered to herself as she went back into the cover of the trees. A thin smile crept to her lips as she realized that her clever companion had once again bamboozled her.
If there was one thing that the outlaw hated, it was waiting. Almost an hour passed before she heard the sound of jingling harness and crept out of the cover of the trees to see who it was. Rebecca was directing the driver of the buckboard toward the clump of trees where Josie waited, and a second man rode in the bed of the wagon. Josie remained in the bushes, although her senses told her that the trio was more likely to be in fear of her than to pose any threat to her. Neither man was armed; the one with the badge pinned to his chest wore a holster, but it was empty. The older man did not look as if he had ever handled a gun in his life.
"Josie?" Rebecca called as she peered at the thick brush, looking for the dark clad woman. Several nervous seconds passed before the gunslinger stepped out into the open, her hands resting on the handles of her guns. "Good, I knew you'd wait. This is Mayor McGregor," she motioned toward the portly man on her left. He nodded nervously. "And this is Tom Glance, the sheriff of Mason's Gulch."
"Ma'am," Tom acknowledged her with a tip of his hat. Josie nodded at each of the men. The sheriff had taken a great chance coming out here unarmed to meet a known killer, and to top it off was also polite and respectful. "Sheriff. I understand that you require assistance in keeping the Caram gang out of your town. I'm willing to do what I can to help, but I need certain assurances before I do."
"Anything. We ain't rich or nothin', but we kin give ya whatever we got."
"All I need is oats for my horse and some salt pork."
"That's all?" Tom looked at her incredulously. It made no sense to him that this outlaw didn't mention money. Of course he wasn't about to bring it up. Josie realized what he was thinking and gave a feral grin.
"Little man, if what I wanted was your town's money there'd be nothing left for that band of killers tomorrow." She fingered the butt of her gun. Satisfied that they had reached an understanding of sorts, Josie whistled for Phoenix.
Despite grumbling from some of the townsfolk about "that damned fool woman's hare brained plan," Josie was able to get them into position before daybreak. At both ends of the main street leading into and out of town men waited with wagons positioned ready to move them to prevent the gang's escape. On the rooftops over looking the street the younger men and women who didn't know how to use guns were stationed with bottles filled with coal oil and sulfur matches. If Josie and the other armed people could not stop them, the plan was to toss the flaming bottles into their midst. Josie hoped it didn't come to that, since the flames could just as easily consume the buildings that were dry as tinder. Once the preparations were in order, all they could do was wait. Josie remained perched on top of a building, her eyes constantly scanning both the street below and the vast expanse of land beyond the edge of town. Rebecca willingly agreed to stay back in the jailhouse and wait for her. Josie didn't trust the town's only saloon to be a safe place for the young prairie girl.
Two hours after sunup a small cloud of dust on the horizon heralded the approach of the Caram gang. Josie gave the hand signal for the others to be ready. As she expected the gang moved casually, expecting easy pickings from the small, isolated town.
All the townsfolk remained hidden as the twenty men rode into the town. Josie kept the leader within the sight of her Winchester. Once the last outlaw was past the wagons, Josie let out a piercing Cherokee war cry. The sound had the desired effect. The Caram gang was momentarily confused as they looked for the source of the sound. At the same time, the townsfolk moved the wagons, blocking the exits. Rifle barrels protruded from the windows of every shop in town, effectively surrounding the gang. John Caram, the leader of the group, glared at Josie as he realized the trap.
"Woman! You've made a mistake. You think we're going to let a handful of farmers and a squaw stop us?" He reached for his sidearm; Josie fired once, striking him cleanly in the right shoulder. His gun flew from his hand as he howled in rage and pain.
"Anyone else want some lead plums?" she taunted as she took aim again, this time at Caram's head. "I suggest you have your men lower their weapons unless you all want to shake hands with Saint Peter before nightfall."
Rebecca watched the entire proceedings from the safety of the sheriff's office. She had been standing in the doorway until the sound of the rifle fire sent her scurrying under the desk. She only came out when she heard the joyous cheers of the townspeople. Stepping out of the building, she was startled by a strong hand clamping around her mouth and pulling her into the alley. Rebecca struggled briefly before she realized that it was Josie who had grabbed her.
"Rebecca, I need you to get the supplies promised me and bring them to the glen about a mile west of here," Josie said as she released the girl from her grasp.
"But...."
"You think that sheriff is going to really let me go? There's a one thousand dollar price on my head."
"But you helped to save the town..." she protested.
"They don't care about that now. I served a purpose for them, now they'll think of the money. I have to get out of here. If you don't want to get it for me, that's fine." She turned to walk away. Rebecca reached up and grabbed her arm.
"Josie, I'll be there. Leave me the horse we got from those men to carry it with and I'll get the things you were promised." Rebecca watched the stoic face looking for any kind of acknowledgment that her words had been heard. The outlaw walked away, not certain whether she would ever see the runaway again.
9: A Good Deed Rewarded
Josie heard her approaching. Moving from her cover in the trees, she reached the young woman and took the reins of the heavily laden horse from her hand. She counted the sacks of grain and salt pork, and realized that there was quite a bit more than she had expected.
"Where did you get all this? This is twice what I asked for."
"They wanted you to have it as their way of saying thanks."
"You're lying." The blue eyes narrowed as her hand reached for her sidearm. Rebecca's eyes went wide with fear.
"N-no, I swear. They wanted me to take some money and other supplies, but I thought you would be mad, so I refused. I told them that all you wanted was the oats and pork, so they insisted on giving more than the original agreement," Rebecca said as she silently prayed that the outlaw would believe her.
Josie searched the face in the pale moonlight. As always, there was no hint of deception or betrayal. "Did anyone follow you?"
"No. I left town heading east, then doubled back."
"Good." Josie removed the supplies from the back of the horse and opened one of the sacks of grain. She filled a feed bag for her mare, and put a heap on the ground for the little horse who worked so hard to carry it. With her back turned, the outlaw couldn't see the beaming smile on the young woman's face.
"Josie?" Rebecca asked as she settled into her bedroll.
"What?"
"I'm glad you didn't get hurt today. That was a very brave thing you did."
"All I did was shoot a man who deserved it," Josie said dismissing it.
"No." Rebecca sat up and looked across the fire at the tall woman. "Today you did the right thing. You stood up with people that you didn't know and protected them from a gang of outlaws bent on destroying their town. Josie, if you hadn't left, they would have told you themselves how thankful they were."
"Rebecca, it's not that simple."
"Yes...it is just that simple, Josie. Today you did the right thing. How long has it been since you've done that? Each day it will get a little easier."
"Go to sleep...before I shoot you." Josie growled as she rolled away from the fire.
"Good night Josie," she said softly before laying back down. She refused to take the gruff threat as anything more than her newfound friend being grouchy.
10: The Wrong Place At The Wrong Time
After a breakfast of salt pork and coffee they set out Southwest, away from their pasts and toward an uncertain future. Josie rode upon Phoenix while Rebecca walked alongside leading the little mare and telling tales of life on the plains. The outlaw listened half-heartedly, her senses trained to listen and look for signs of trouble. Her intuition had never failed her before and the sudden prickling of the hairs on her neck made her pull the horse to a stop and motion for the prairie girl to be silent. Her ice blue eyes scanned the horizon, catching the almost imperceptible sight of a rifle barrel poking out from behind a rock. Josie extracted her Winchester from its scabbard and dismounted in one fluid motion.
"Behind that rock. Now!" she ordered, keeping her rifle focused on the sniper. Rebecca had just made it behind the rock when a single shot rang out. She kept her head down out of fear.
"Josie?" she called again, this time louder.
"I'm here. Stay where you are," she hollered back. She looked down at her injured leg. The bullet had entered at mid thigh and there was no sign of an exit wound. Using her elbow and her uninjured leg Josie scrabbled around the rock and collapsed at Rebecca's side.
"You're hurt!" The young woman exclaimed. Without warning, Josie twisted and brought the rifle up, aiming slightly above the head of the distant gunman, causing the small pile of rocks above him to shake violently. The hammer clicked on an empty chamber, and Josie ducked back down behind the rock, pulling shells out of her gunbelt as she did.
"We have to get out of here," Rebecca said
"If we move now, we'll be dead before we can reach Phoenix." She looked down at the blood that had soaked her pant leg and begun to pool on the ground. "But you're right, we can't stay here much longer." She opened the chamber of the rifle and filled it with bullets. A flip of the lever and the rifle was ready to go. Josie spared a quick look at her new friend. "If anything happens, I want you to take the horses and get out of here."
"Josie, nothin-"
"If anything does, take the horses and go." The tone in her voice made it clear that this was not open for discussion. Rebecca nodded mutely. The outlaw gave her one last look before pivoting and firing at the potential rockslide. Her left index finger worked the trigger as her right hand pulled the lever again and again. The quick succession of bullets freed the rocks, sending them tumbling. The man let out a bloodcurdling scream as the granite rained down on him, and then all was silence.
"Get the gauze from the saddlebag," Josie said to the girl, and Rebecca ran to do her bidding. The outlaw untied the bandanna around her neck, and when Rebecca returned she handed it to her. "Tie this around my leg above the wound. It'll slow the flow of blood." Rebecca did as she asked, but the sight of so much blood made her feel queasy. "Now put the gauze over the wound..." she broke off at the look on Rebecca's face. It looked as if the girl was about to faint.
"Josie, we have to get you to a doctor!" Rebecca said frantically as she tried to help the outlaw to her feet. Using the smaller woman for leverage, she climbed on top of the boulder that moments before had been their hiding place, and whistled for Phoenix. The mare trotted to her side, and using her powerful arms, Josie pulled herself into the saddle.
"Climb up on that rock and then get up behind me," Josie said to Rebecca, whose face was still unnaturally white. Rebecca did as she was told, and a moment later was settled behind the wounded gunslinger. "Hold tight to my waist. If it seems like I'm about to pass out, give me a good squeeze so I don't fall out of the saddle."
"But I'm not strong enough to keep you..."
"Don't worry; you won't have to keep me up here. I'm just afraid I might forget where I am or let go, and you can keep me focussed." Rebecca tightened her grip so much she thought her arms would fall off from the pressure, but it was enough to keep the gunslinger fairly upright in the saddle.
They rode the rest of the day and night stopping only long enough to give the horses a much-needed drink and a few minutes of rest. They arrived just before daybreak at a small ranch. Smoke already curled from the chimney so Josie didn't need to rouse the house. Sure enough, before they had even come to a stop, a small woman with dark hair came out of the house holding a rather menacing rifle. The scowl on her face dissolved into a huge grin when she recognized her visitor. "Josie!" she boomed.
"Hello, Belle. It's been a long time," the outlaw said as she nudged Phoenix to a stop just beyond the porch rail. Without waiting for an introduction, Rebecca slid off the horse as if she had been doing it all her life and said to the woman with the rifle, "She's wounded. Help me get her down from there." In her excitement at seeing her old friend Belle had not even noticed the pallor of her cheeks, or that Josie's left pant leg was completely soaked with blood as was Phoenix's left flank. Rebecca's words galvanized her into action, and she jumped off the porch and ran to Josie's side.
"Put your arms around my neck," she instructed the gunslinger. "And you, blondie, carefully lift her leg over the saddle, and then take hold of both her legs." Josie leaned down as instructed and wrapped her arms around the stout woman's neck. Rebecca was almost afraid to touch Josie's wounded leg, but she did not want to rile the feisty Belle so she did as she was told. In a few moments they had Josie on the ground between them, her arms draped over their shoulders. They hobbled into the house and with a nod Belle said, "Bring her to that room over there."
Unwilling to let go of the injured woman to grasp the doorknob, Belle simply gave the door a kick. It opened to reveal a plain bedroom with a bureau, a wash basin, and a pitcher. The two women maneuvered Josie to the side of the bed and laid her down as gently as they could. Josie's teeth were clenched against the pain, and tears welled up in her eyes as Belle worked the boot off her foot. Belle glanced up at the young blonde who stood frozen at the head of the bed. "There's whiskey in a jug in the kitchen. Fetch that and a glass." With a nod, Rebecca made her way across the room. Before she was out of earshot, Belle added, "Oh, and some cloth. Enough to clean her up and to use for a bandage. It's in a chest in the kitchen. And when you're through with that, draw some water from the well and put it on to boil." She took a pair of scissors from a sewing box on top of the bureau and proceeded to cut the ruined trousers off the wounded gunslinger.
"Those are my best drawers," Josie complained.
Belle guffawed. "Not any more, they ain't." Rebecca came into the room with her arms full of white cloth, a whiskey jug and glass in her hands. She was just in time to see Belle peel back the fabric she had cut from around the wound, which had begun to bleed afresh.
"Oh!" Rebecca gasped and turned away from the sight of the blood. When she and Josie were on the way to Belle's she was able to deal with the gore because she had to, but now that someone else was there to take care of her friend, Rebecca seemed to lose her nerve. Her face paled, and she thought for a moment she would be sick. "I can't...I don't think...I'm sorry, I think I'm going to be sick."
"Well then take it out of here, girl," Belle said, a bit more gruffly than she had intended. "Just leave the things, and go do something useful." She poured a healthy dollop of whiskey in the glass and handed it to Josie, who swigged half of it in one gulp.
"Take care of the horses," Josie said to Rebecca's retreating back. "And don't worry; this old harridan will take good care of me."
"I know. But I wish I could help..." She hazarded a glance at Josie, making sure to look only at her face and not at the bloody mess of her leg. Josie gave her a wan smile and tipped her glass toward the little blonde before finishing off her whiskey.
"Bring me that water when it's hot and leave it outside the door," Belle asked.
By the time Rebecca finished brushing down and settling the horses, Belle had managed to dig out the bullet and dress the wound. She dressed Josie in a long shirt, and the outlaw was finally resting comfortably. Before attempting to remove the slug, Belle had given her enough liquor to ensure that she would rest for quite a while. She came out of the bedroom to find the young blonde in the kitchen feeding wood to the stove.
"Fire was dying," she said by way of explanation. She should not have presumed it was all right to work in someone else's kitchen without asking first, but she could not bring herself to go back into the room Josie occupied.
Belle simply nodded. "What's your name, child?" she asked as she closed the door to Josie's room.
"Rebecca. Is she going to be okay?" Her intense concern and fear were evident on her young face. The older woman placed a strong hand on her shoulder.
"She'll be fine in a few weeks. She lost quite a bit of blood and the muscles need some time to heal. Come on; let's rustle up something for you to eat. Then you can tell me what happened."
"I'm sorry, I never caught your name."
The older woman smiled warmly. "Belle," she said as she held out her hand. "Belle Shirley." Her firm grip surprised Rebecca. The woman appeared to be the same general age as Josie, but significantly shorter. "This is my home."
She showed Rebecca around the small but neat ranch house. There were three rooms, all made up for sleeping. One was obviously Belle's; the other two appeared to have no occupants. There was nothing of a personal nature in either room. It was one of those rooms that now housed the injured outlaw. A small eating area doubled as the main room. "Excuse me for asking, but if you live here alone, why so many sleeping rooms?"
Belle let out a deep belly laugh that shook her whole body. "It's not because I enjoy company, girl. Many persons who have...shall we say...run afoul of the law have found a need to hide out here for a while." She looked over at the door to Josie's room. "Many have come here for the same reason as her. We can't always trust a local doctor to tend to our wounds properly, especially once he finds out that we're wanted. Many of them would just as soon poison us as heal us. We've had to learn how to take care of our own injuries."
"And you keep this place so they have a place to go."
"Yes. So far the law hasn't found us out." She went into the small kitchen and heated up some stewed beef in an enameled tin pot. "Only a few of us know this place. Josie must really trust you to bring you along here." She looked at the young woman again, appraising her from head to toe. "What do you do for her, girl? You don't look like a gunfighter and you're too innocent to be something else."
"Well, we've only been traveling together a few days. So far I haven't done anything for her except get her into trouble."
Belle smiled warmly and put her arm around the younger woman. "It's been many a year since this place has had any laughter. Tell me a funny story while I make us some fresh buttermilk biscuits to go with this stew."
"Mmm!" she licked her lips unconsciously. "For fresh biscuits I'll tell you every story I know." She sat down on a high stool and proceeded to rattle off several fanciful tales of Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys, Paul Revere, and other heroes of the Revolutionary War. Belle listened intently, learning more than she ever knew about that period of American history. Rebecca's voice was animated, every word full of emotion. Her hands moved in tune with her mouth, illustrating different points within her stories.
"You tell your stories very well, child," Belle said as she served up a bowl of stew for each of them.
"Oh, if you don't mind, I'd like to feed Josie first, then eat."
"Rebecca, she's not going to know if you eat first."
"But I'll know," she said quietly. Belle looked at her inquisitively for a moment before turning back to the pot and ladling out another bowl of stew.