Crow Creek Crossing by Charles G. West

Author:Charles G. West
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-05-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

“Where are you thinkin’ about headin’?” Harley asked as he watched Cole checking the ropes on his packhorse one last time. The little man was finally resigned to the fact that Cole was setting out after Slade Corbett, in spite of another attempt to change his mind. “Them two outlaws could be anywhere—might be halfway to Texas by now. You ain’t got a snowball’s chance in hell of findin’ ’em.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Cole replied stoically. “But I’ve got even less of a chance of findin’ ’em sittin’ around this village all winter.” Satisfied that his pack was secure, he answered Harley’s question. “Cheyenne was where I lost ’em, so I reckon Cheyenne’s where I’ll start lookin’ to pick up their trail.”

Yellow Calf, Walking Owl, and Medicine Bear, along with several more of the village, came out to wish him good hunting on his journey. The medicine man agreed with Harley in the belief that Cole should give his wound more time to heal properly, but he understood the young man’s sense of what he must do. After thanking his hosts, Cole stepped up into the saddle. A moment before turning the Morgan toward the river, he paused when Harley suddenly stepped up and extended his hand.

“You be damn careful, partner,” Harley said, then stepped back to watch him ride out of the camp, a foreboding thought striking him that he might never see the determined young man again.

When the others returned to their tipis, he re- mained there, watching his friend as he led the buckskin across the river, passing by the spot on the bank where they had searched for tracks left by a white wolf. He shook his head sadly, for he feared there was nothing but tragedy awaiting the young man. For several long moments, he stood there after Cole had ridden out of sight before turning to go back to Yellow Calf’s lodge.

• • •

Mary Lou Cagle stood in the kitchen door, her attention captured by two men who had just walked into the dining room.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she murmured. “I don’t believe the nerve of that pair of murderers.” She turned back toward the kitchen where Maggie was drying a stack of dishes. “You’re not gonna believe who just showed up in the dining room,” she said.

“Who?” Maggie asked, aware of the astonishment in Mary Lou’s tone.

“That son of a bitch Slade Corbett and the other son of a bitch—whatever his name is,” Mary Lou answered.

“No!” Maggie replied in disbelief, and walked to the door to see for herself.

“Well, you know we should have expected it,” Mary Lou said, disgusted. “They know there ain’t anybody in town that’ll stop them, now that Jim Thompson’s dead and his deputy quit.”

“This deputy wasn’t around long enough to even learn his name,” Maggie said. “How do these outlaws find out so soon, anyway?”

“Huh,” Mary Lou snorted, “I know what my guess would be.”

She and Maggie had expected trouble with the sudden absence of any semblance of

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