The Crimson Trail by Eric Red

Author:Eric Red [Red, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pinnacle Books
Published: 2021-04-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

As dawn broke three hundred miles to the southeast in Rawlins, Laura Holdridge sipped her coffee, wondering if the cattle drive would be detained for yet another day. Joe had not returned all night, and she could only assume he was waiting at the telegraph office for a confirmation of the story from his lady marshal friend in Jackson. The trail boss hadn’t slept a wink, feeling with every passing minute that the chance of getting her livestock to Cheyenne became an increasingly remote possibility, like the sands in an hourglass draining her future with every grain. She could ill afford to lose another day.

Over at the chuck wagon, the outfit was having breakfast. The two deputy sheriffs stationed to guard the drivers and cattle from leaving were having coffee with the wranglers, joking and swapping stories. The local lawmen were all right, just doing their job.

Presently, the cattlewoman saw two riders approaching from the direction of town, the last place she had seen the bounty hunter ride off.

It was Noose and Sheriff Roberts. Her heart lifted as she made out the grin on Joe’s face. He wore it all the way up to her when he reined his horse, Copper. “We reached Bess by telegraph this morning. She confirmed the story.”

The lawman rode up and nodded respectfully. “You and your herd are free to go, Mrs. Holdridge.”

* * *

The cattle drive proceeded due east on a southern trajectory throughout the morning. The five hundred head and seven-man outfit pushed on across five miles of rugged hill country, the sky weighted with heavy clouds, until on the seventh mile the prairie leveled out into an open plain and the sun came out, the temperatures rising to ninety degrees. The rovers and the steers began to bake but still they pressed forward.

In the driver’s perch of her covered wagon, Laura Holdridge had the map of Wyoming open behind her, her brow furrowed with worry as she occasionally consulted it when she saw a landmark, marking their progress with a pencil on the map. Now and then she looked up and scanned her surroundings. There was no sign of the posse Noose believed were tailing them, but she knew if he said so that they were out there.

When the outfit broke for lunch ten miles southeast of Rawlins, Joe Noose noticed that Billy Barlow was not among the circle of men with the plates and cups. He heard several shots ring out several hundred yards away and looked up quickly. Joe Idaho chuckled. “Relax, Mr. Smith. That’s just Billy practicing his shooting. He’s the worst shot in the outfit, thinks wasting ammo is gonna make him better, but we all know it’s because he needs glasses because his distance vision is poor.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with glasses,” said Kettlebone, polishing his bifocals with a dirty shirttail, making them more smeared than before.

Rowdy Maddox shoveled another spoonful of beans into his mouth. “Dumb kid’s too proud to wear spectacles and one day that’s gonna cause him to get stuck on the wrong side of a longhorn.

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