The Drifter by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western
ISBN: 9780786017164
Publisher: San Val
Published: 2000-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Drifter

Fifteen

The valley was an oasis of green surrounded by mountains, a profusion of multicolored wildflowers and gently waving grass in the slight breeze.

“It's lovely,” Viv whispered as she and Frank rested their horses at the mouth of the valley. “So beautiful and peaceful.”

Frank had carefully checked out the valley a few days before, and had been pleasantly surprised to find it as Vivian had just described it.

“A little creek is over yonder,” Frank said, pointing. “Water is cold and pure. I had me a drink, and it numbed my tongue.”

“Large enough to take a swim?”

“No. If you're brave you could stick your feet in it, though. But you won't leave them in there for long.”

“I'm thirsty.”

“We'll ride down and have us a drink. Fill up our canteens.”

“I wrapped up some of that chicken and biscuits.”

“I'm so fall now I'm about to pop, Viv. But it'll sure taste good later.”

Vivian took off her fashionable boots and put her feet into the fast-running creek ... for about one second. She squealed, jerked her feet out, and immediately began rubbing them. “I have never felt water that cold!”

“I warned you,” Frank said with a laugh. He quickly cut his eyes to the horses, grazing a dozen yards away. Their heads had come up quickly, and their ears were pricked. The nostrils on Frank's horse were flared, and his eyes were shining with a wary and suspicious light.

“Stay put, Viv. Don't move unless I tell you to. And if I tell you, get behind that clump of trees just to your left.”

“What's wrong, Frank?”

“I don't know. But the animals suddenly got jumpy, and I've learned to trust that big horse of mine. He's saved my skin more than once.”

Frank stayed low and worked his way over to his horse. Using the big animal for cover, he pulled his rifle from the boot. He opened a pocket on the side of the boot and took out a box of cartridges and slipped them in his back pocket. Frank preferred the rifle because it packed a hefty wallop and had excellent range.

He crawled back to Viv and motioned for her to head for the copse of trees he had pointed out.

In the trees, she looked at him through worried eyes. “What's wrong?” she repeated.

“I saw one man, maybe two, slipping around on that ridge over there, dead in front of us.”

“The Pine and Vanbergen gangs?”

“Maybe. Can't be certain about that. But folks who slip around are damn sure up to no good.”

“Conrad!”

“The boy will be all right, Viv. You've got people looking out for him, and Jimmy will be in town and so will Jerry. Don't worry about him.”

She peered through the weeds at the ridge. Frank felt her stiffen beside him.

“What's wrong, Viv?”

“I just caught a glint of sunlight off of something.”

“Where?”

“Way over there to our right. In those rocks.”

“That's three men, then. At least.”

“We're in deep trouble, aren't we, Frank?”

“Well ... yes and no. To get behind us would take some doing. It's all nearly wide-open meadow for a long way on either side of us.

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