Jodi Thomas - WM 1 Page 6

  The memory of Mrs. Haller’s words stayed with her.

  “The end of the earth,” Rainey mumbled as she tugged on the trousers and shirt she’d worn for the train ride. Though she had washed them, they still looked dirty. She’d used them a few times to slip into the settlement on busy days. When several families were milling around, everyone thought she was someone else’s kid.

  The Ranger might be looking for her, but no one would give a boy a second glance. There were always youths coming and going at the trading post. She’d be able to move about without many questions. She’d lost so much weight in the past few weeks, her disguise hung on her frame.

  As she dressed, she studied her small stash of supplies.

  In a cotton napkin lay food she’d lifted from the table last night. She took inventory. A half loaf of bread and several meat pies almost as large as her palm. Two apples and a handful of nuts. Not much. Not enough if she had to wait days for the next wagons.

  When she’d traveled with the old freighter, she’d felt like she was going somewhere. She was disappearing like Mrs. Haller told her to do. When she reached the trading post, she wasn’t sure that she was at the end of the earth, but she felt like she should be able to at least see it from here.

  Since it appeared she’d overslept and missed her chance of traveling with the Germans, her only choice was to survive a little longer on her own. And to do that, she needed to know what was going on at the trading post.

  She circled around to the back of Elmo’s place, staying in the shade as much as possible so that anyone passing wouldn’t get a good look at her.

  By this time of day there were usually several wagons and horses pulled up to the loading porch. Folks stopping by to talk more than shop. Travelers looked to be pausing for a noon meal in the shade of a tree that grew between the trading post and where the Germans’ wagons had been last night. Maybe she’d pick up some news. If it looked busy enough, she might even brave going into the post. She had enough money to buy a pickle, then stand near the back and eat it while she watched folks come and go.

  A few men sat in chairs near the corner of the porch where Mr. Anderson kept a jug of whiskey on a barrel. They were regulars. She’d seen them before, though she’d never walked close enough to them that they’d noticed her.

  Pulling her hat low, she headed for the corner of the building.

  Someone jumped from the porch of the trading post and walked, in long strides, toward his horse. Like a man taking stock of his surroundings, he glanced first at her, then at the men by the barrel. He was almost as tall as Travis McMurray, but his hair was brown and his eyes blue.

  Rainey froze, staring from him to the bay tied to his saddle with a lead rope. The same bay she’d borrowed, then lost, last night.

  As he untied the reins to his horse, Elmo Anderson yelled at him from inside. “Teagen! Wait a minute.”

  The man didn’t slow down.

  “Wait I said!” Mr. Anderson appeared on the porch, his dirty apron flapping in the wind like an old flag, his wrinkled face set in anger. “We’ll get men together and be ready to go by morning. There’s no need for you to go alone and get yourself killed. All the talk right now is rumors, nothing more.”

  “Yeah, McMurray,” interjected one of the men who’d been at the far corner of the porch. He stood beside the store owner. “You can’t go this one alone. Not on something one cowhand said he saw three days ago. He could have been drunk or lying to his boss to explain why he was late.” His words already sounded slurred with drink. “Maybe he just rode through here an hour ago and told us his tale to stir things up and get everyone frightened.”

  “And if he’s not lying?” the man near the horses said. “If he did see a raiding party camped between here and the fort just waiting for the next settlers who come by?”

  The man Elmo had called Teagen looked like he had a hair trigger on his anger.

  The drunk wasn’t smart enough to notice. “Those Germans are farmers, they’ll be easy pickings. My guess is they would also be little help to your brother against a raiding party, so he’s probably already dead. If you wait, we’ll help you catch whoever did it.”

  Teagen swung into the saddle. “My brother’s not dead and I’ve no time to argue. If those wagons are going to be attacked, Travis may need backup now, not tomorrow. He’s already got half a day’s start on me.”

  “But we heard there may be twenty or more of them, outlaws and Apache raiding together.” Mr. Anderson shook his head. “Twenty to one. Those are tough odds even if Travis is a Ranger.”

  “Twenty to two.” Teagen pulled his horse around so fast he almost knocked Rainey down.

  The two powerful animals danced around her, making her feel like a squirrel in a stampede. She finally managed to jump on the porch.

  “Sorry, kid!” Teagen yelled.

  “How can I help!” she shouted back, thinking of how she’d watched the German children play all week. If they were in trouble, there must be something she could do. “Please, mister, there has to be something I can do.”

  Teagen shoved his hat back a few inches but looked at Elmo. “You know this kid, Anderson?”

  “Yeah,” Elmo said, without really looking at Rainey. “He’s from one of the homesteads around here, I guess. He’s fond of my pickles.”

  Teagen nodded once as if willing to take a chance. He tossed her the lead rope to the bay. “Can you take this horse back to my place, boy? I’ll make faster time without him.”

  She nodded, grabbing the rope.

  “Tell my brother, Tobin McMurray, that I’ve gone to help Travis. Elmo got word this morning that there are raiders on the north trail. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  The powerful man glanced at Anderson. “Saddle the bay for . . .” He looked at Rainey. “Got a name, son?”

  “Sam.” Rainey said the first name that came to mind.

  “See you when I get back, Sam.” Teagen kicked his horse and was out of sight before she could think of anything to answer.

  The drunk mumbled under his breath about the wild McMurrays and how they were a law unto themselves. “They ain’t never taken any help from anyone, and I guess they don’t plan to now,” he added as he stumbled back to his chair. “Bunch of rattlesnakes, if you ask me. Living out there on their land as if they owned their own piece of the world.”

  While Rainey watched, Mr. Anderson tossed a fine saddle on the bay and said, “If you can read, boy, I’ll give you directions to the bridge. It’s almost due west. Once you get there, you’re on McMurray land, and my guess is they’ll find you fast enough. I swear, they can smell it when a stranger walks on their property.”

  Elmo pulled a paper from his pocket, and as he scribbled a map, he added, “You tell the youngest McMurray that Travis followed a wagon train north. Tell him Teagen lit out of here when he heard Travis might be in trouble.”

  The drunk leaned his chair back against the porch railing and added, “I don’t know anyone, except the men who work for them, who’s ever been on their land. You’d be safer riding off to fight them outlaws and Apache with Teagen, boy.”

  Rainey swallowed and tried not to look scared. She couldn’t believe Teagen had entrusted his valuable horse to her. He must have been so worried about his brother that the horse lost importance. No matter what the drunk said about them, there was honor in Teagen’s action.

  A few minutes later she realized she had a horse, and a saddle, and no one watching which way she went. She wasn’t about to go north, but she could go south and be halfway to Austin before anyone noticed. The freighter had shown her the road when they’d traveled to the trading post.

  Once she was in the capital, she could sell the saddle, if necessary. After all, McMurray had almost given it to her. Then she’d have enough money to start a life.

  Rainey used one of the words she’d heard a sailor say and made the bay turn west. If she vanished, she’d have two McMurrays on her trail. One was frightening enough.
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  Mrs. Haller’s words drifted through her mind. “Change your name, your look, even the color of your hair, and stay away from the law.”

  She’d take the horse to their ranch and think up another plan. Her dressing like a boy wouldn’t fool anyone for long and Travis was the law. So far she was doing a lousy job of following the rules for staying alive and on the run.

  Things had to work out her way some time. They could turn no worse.

  CHAPTER 6

  TRAVIS RODE A MILE AHEAD OF THE FARMERS’ WAGONS and watched morning spread across the rolling green hills of Texas. A love for this wild land ran in his blood. He never tired of seeing it even on days like today, when he’d rather be home watching the sun rise over Whispering Mountain.

  He’d scouted for settlers several times over his ten years with the Rangers. Most of the assignment was boring routine he could have done in his sleep. But his nerves stayed on edge. One percent of the time something went wrong, and, when it did, there was usually little time to think about what to do. So, in the calmness of daily routine, he prepared for trouble and watched.

  His hand slid over his Colt, wishing the wagons would move faster. They were halfway between Anderson Trading Post and Patterson’s Crossing. If trouble planned to greet them, it would come today when they were too far from civilization to ride for cover in either direction. That’s why he’d had the wagons moving at first light and would push them hard all day. He wanted to be out of this no-man’s land as quickly as possible.

  As he watched the sun rise, his mind drifted back to two nights ago when the strange woman had kissed him. He probably didn’t know her real name, but it would be a long time before he forgot the way her lips felt against his. He frowned, remembering how their bodies molded together. For a second, before she pulled away, she’d felt like she was melting into him. He couldn’t help but wonder what that feeling might have been like if they’d had no clothes between them.

  Travis decided he must be brainless for dwelling on such a thing. He tried to concentrate on watching for any sign of danger. The woman was probably halfway to Austin by now without giving him a thought. For all he knew, she might kiss a different man each night and he was just one of an endless line.

  He’d learned a long time ago that most folks admired him for his skills as a Ranger, but because of his mixed blood, they’d rather not have him too close to their sisters. The first girl he ever looked at had been a blacksmith’s daughter. She’d smiled at him one afternoon while he waited on the porch of Anderson’s place for his brother to collect Martha’s monthly supplies.

  The girl had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and ribbons in her wheat-colored hair. She walked right up to him and told him her name was Madeline Ward in a voice that sounded like music. He remembered how awkward he’d felt trying to talk to her, like she was a whole other kind of creature he’d never encountered.

  When her father came out, he’d looked like he wanted to murder Travis and might have tried if Teagen hadn’t followed Harley Ward from the trading post. The muscle-bound Ward yelled for Teagen to keep the half-breed away from his daughter or there would be hell to pay. The next thing Travis knew, he was pulling his older brother away from a fight with a man twice his width. The McMurray boys were tall, but lean and not out of their teens. The blacksmith probably could have taken them both in a fistfight.

  Travis heard later that the father beat Madeline so badly that she couldn’t attend church for a month. He wished he’d stayed and let the blacksmith pound on him for a while. Maybe he would have released all the anger before he turned to his daughter.

  Partly out of duty and partly out of dread of running into Madeline again, Travis decided a week later to join the Rangers. By the time he’d turned twenty, he’d honed his skills to the point that no man would call him a half-breed to his face.

  Travis turned his horse back to the wagons and swore to himself for wasting time worrying about something that should have been forgotten long ago. In truth, the blacksmith might have done him a favor. He loved being a Ranger. It was the only kind of life for someone like him . . . a man who belonged nowhere. His brothers and sister would fit into the community, but Travis knew there would always be those who saw him more Indian and less McMurray.

  As always, when he thought of Madeline Ward, he silently wished her well, hoping she’d escaped her father’s wrath and was living happily somewhere safe. He’d asked about her once, but no one knew where she’d moved.

  A thin line of smoke rose to the north, pulling Travis back to full alert. Most wouldn’t have noticed the puff that climbed toward passing clouds, but he recognized the sign. Someone a mile away had just put out a small campfire.

  A lone buzzard circled in the same area. The bird was probably waiting for the remains of whatever animal had been killed for breakfast, telling Travis that whoever camped to the north was living off the land and not packing hardtack and beans.

  Travis turned his horse and headed back to the wagons. The signs could mean nothing, another traveler ahead of them, a brave soul homesteading alone, or they could be warning of an ambush. If so, the outlaws were sloppy, but then, they hadn’t expected a Ranger to be riding along with the Germans.

  He kicked his horse into full gallop, glancing back only once to notice the smoke had vanished.

  “Circle the wagons!” Travis shouted to William Ackland, the leader of the small band of farmers, when he got close to the wagons.

  Ackland started to question but reconsidered. He waved with his hand and the wagons began to pull together. The German was smart, he’d learn fast—if he stayed alive long enough.

  Travis swung from his horse and helped unhitch the horses and oxen so the wagons could be used to build a corral around the stock. He explained to Ackland as they worked, “We’ve got company up ahead. It may be nothing, but I’d like to check.”

  “Other travelers?” the German asked hopefully.

  “Maybe,” Travis answered. “But no one’s passed by the post in several days heading north, or Anderson would have made sure you folks traveled with them.” He thought of adding that anyone coming from the north would know better than to be so sloppy with their fire in open country. “If it’s Indians, they may want to trade.”

  The little German looked frightened. “We’ve heard stories.”

  Travis closed his eyes and guessed what they’d heard. Stories of killings and captures. He’d heard them, too. Hell, he’d even seen some of them. Horrors committed by different tribes against each other and the invading settlers, horrors repaid in kind. He forced his face to remain stone. He wanted to yell at the man, asking hadn’t he known that this was a wild country when he signed on for the journey? But, instead, he said calmly, “All we can do is prepare, Mr. Ackland. By circling we’ll protect our stock. If it’s traders, we’ll meet them outside the circle of the wagons. If it’s a war party, we’ll have cover. I’ll ride out and report back.”

  William Ackland nodded and straightened. “We will be ready. Every man has a rifle.”

  Travis wished every man had three, but he only added, “If I come back riding hell-bent for leather, have the guns ready to fire. If it’s a raiding party, as soon as they know we’re aware of them, they’ll attack.”

  Grabbing his horse, Travis glanced around the circle. Women and children, he thought. Too many women and children. If raiders were coming, the men would be dead before they could reload, and the women and children would think they were in hell. He had to make sure that didn’t happen.

  He glanced back at Ackland. “Tell everyone to stay put until I return. Even if you hear gunfire, don’t go outside the circle.”

  The German nodded.

  Travis jumped over a wagon tongue and rode north. He didn’t need to check his weapons, he knew they were ready. His life had depended on it many times.

  Just out of sight of the wagons, he turned west. If whoever put out the fire was heading toward the settlers, he didn’t plan to be in their
path before he got a chance to size them up. He climbed on higher ground and eased his horse silently through tall grass.

  The morning was still cool, calm, but he smelled their camp before he saw it. He slipped from his horse and moved closer, invisible in the grass.

  Travis swore as he recognized their kind. A raiding party made up of outlaws—men too mean to live in any civilized world. He also saw two Indians, probably acting as scouts, and a child, tied to a rope like a dog. The kid was on the far side of the camp, and Travis couldn’t tell if the child was a boy or girl, only that the youth was so thin he, or she, seemed almost birdlike. The child’s movements were slow and stiff as if bones had been broken once and hadn’t healed right. Shivering into his coat, Travis noticed the child was almost nude.

  Travis had heard reports of a bad gang raiding near the mouth of the Colorado River. It was said they’d steal anything they could use in trade and kill anyone who got in their way. They must have drifted north.

  The men moving about the campsite didn’t seem in any hurry. They were saddling up, but leaving their gear behind. Preparing to ride hard and fast. Most had double weapons strapped both to their bodies and their mounts. None looked nervous or excited. They apparently saw the Germans as easy pickings. They planned to kill the men and take everything, wagons and all. The women and children would probably be tied up in one of the wagons and sold somewhere in Mexico within a few weeks. Or traded to tribes farther north, where the captives would later be bartered for supplies at one of the forts. By the time the women and children were traded off, they’d be near dead from starvation.

  Travis knew he was looking at the rock bottom of humanity. Men who would do anything for money. Men who put no value on life.

  They began to saddle up and he should have moved away, but one of the Indians caught his attention. Apache. He didn’t usually see them this far south. Though his mind knew evil could have any skin color, his heart didn’t like the idea that someone from his mother’s tribe could be one of the raiders.