Chapter Eleven
Bonnie had never felt so tired and beaten down in her life.
Well, there’d been times when Carver beat her so badly, she’d had trouble moving the next day.
There were also different pains a woman felt in her body, some from the hand of a bloody pain—and those cut deep—but the pain Bonnie felt as she struggled to mount her horse was a product of sheer exhaustion.
She had barely slept a wink. She was hungry, and her mouth was dry.
The ground was hard and mean on her body.
Riding saddle was rough. Running a herd was man’s work.
A woman, she believed, did best inside a home, tending to her children, cooking warm meals, fetching milk to make good biscuits with, feeding her chickens—and yes, even growing flowers.
There’d been a time when she’d considered flowers to be beautiful. When she’d been no bigger than a prairie weed, she used to grow pretty roses, and she’d loved to sit and watch the rain drip off their velvety pedals, thinking about her ma.
Pa would see me sitting at the front window watching the rain. He never said much about it, but he, I bet he knew I was thinking about what it would’ve been like to have a ma.
Ace was mounting up next to Bonnie. “Okay, listen up,” he ordered, sounding plumb kicked down in Bonnie’s ears.
“We ride tight. If we get attacked on the trail, we fall back into a defensive position. Finn, you and Clyde cover the middle of the herd the best you can. I’ll stay up front with Bonnie.
Dallas, you cover the rear. Push the herd in as tight as you can. ”
“Got it,” Finn assured Ace.
“Yep, got it.” Clyde nodded his head.
“I’ll cover the rear,” Dallas promised.
Bonnie looked at the three men very carefully. She was starting to feel mighty affectionate toward them. Not in a romantic way. No. She just felt warmly toward them for being good, brave, and decent.
“Ready?” Ace asked her.
She took her eyes to the land. The sun was almost fully awake, giving life to a blue sky hovering over a hard land filled with guns and blood. “Yeah, I’m ready,” she told Ace.
“Packhorses are under my care. Clyde and Finn got the horses carrying the bodies. Reckon we’re all ready to ride on,” Dallas told Ace. He turned his horse and rode to the back of the herd, pulling the packhorses behind him.
Finn and Clyde rode off to their positions, tending to horses holding dead bodies.
There they go, getting ready to ride the trail again.
Roscoe might come on us and kills us all today, but they’ll just tend to the herd until that happens.
So will Ace. Bonnie looked at Ace. He was taking mighty good care of her.
Why? She wasn’t his responsibility. What did he want—or expect—from her?
“Let’s ride.” Ace nodded his head. “Already getting hot. Need to move the cattle the best we can before the sun gets too mean.”
Bonnie gave her horse a kick and started forward.
Lyle is dead. I picked his pockets before Ace rode back with the fellas last night.
I went through his saddle bags, too. Found a whole lot of money and a knife with some dry blood on it.
Not sure if he killed someone. I don’t care.
I’m glad the herd ran him into the grave.
Just wondering what I should do with the money I found. I ain’t told Ace about it yet.
She saw herself going through the pockets of a dead man and then checking two shadowy saddlebags with trembling hands.
Her hands came up on rolls of money hidden in a beef bag, which also held the knife.
Daring to light a single match, she spotted blood on the blade and then hurried to count the money before hiding it away in her own saddlebag.
I should have told Ace. Maybe I will, but right now, I can’t even think straight.
I know Roscoe is behind us someplace. He’ll ride hard until he catches up.
The money I found won’t do me much good if I end up dead.
But if I escape, I might have a chance to get to some city in the east, maybe to Sacramento.
But then what? I’ll just have to get a job and find my way, is all.
Bonnie chewed on her thoughts in silence as Ace led the herd forward, scanning the land with skilled and smart eyes. He was a handsome man, she thought. Rugged, daring, and determined—but very much alone. He carried the same look she did most of the time.
He keeps his distance from folks. Not that he wants to. I think he wants to sit around the campfire and drink coffee like a regular guy, but something keeps him off to the side. Maybe he’s just lost too much already…
“Bonnie?” Ace asked as they topped a small rise in the trail.
“Yes?”
“Any idea what you’re doing to do when the trail ends?”
“No.” Bonnie offered a clear and honest answer.
“I have my ranch. I’ve been able to build it up. Wasn’t easy after the war. Ranch was in bad shape when I got back,” Ace said, studying the land and looking back at the herd every few minutes. “Ranching ain’t easy.”
“Don’t reckon it is. My pa was a rancher.”
Ace rode on for a few minutes. “Cities back east lure a lot of folks in. Cities like Boston and New York. What folks don’t understand is that it’s hard living in places like that.”
“What do you mean?” Bonnie asked, even though she thought she knew.
“Folks gotta work and eat, no matter where they go. Need a roof over their head and clothes on their back. Cities like Boston and New York ain’t much different than out here. The biggest ranches have the largest herds. In the cities, the bankers control the herds.”
Bonnie listened.
“Lots of poor folks fill the cities back east. Most of them work hard labor jobs. You hear stories about fancy restaurants and fine hotels and all that, but truth be told, it’s hard living. Winters are mean, labor is hard—and there’s violence.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Bonnie asked. She felt Ace was trying to relay something important, meant to push any idea of migrating east out of her mind.
“Reckon I just don’t see you as a city woman, is all.”
“Too dumb?”
“No, I didn’t say that.” Ace checked the herd. “You just seem at home on a saddle, and?—?”
He threw his head to the left. The land was open on that side of the trail. A few trees hugged the trail on the right.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Riders,” Ace answered. He swung his horse around. “Finn, Clyde?—?”
“We hear ’em!” Finn hollered.
Riders?
“Get the herd in tight!” Ace ordered.
Bonnie’s heart nearly stopped. She looked to her left. There was a small rise about two hundred yards off. At first, she didn’t see or hear a thing except some birds. Then, the sound of horses, faint but unmistakable, reached her ears.
It’s Roscoe! I know it is!
“Get on the right side of the herd,” Ace told Bonnie, pulling his saddle rifle free. “Keep the herd tight!”
Bonnie kicked her horse and got into position, joining Clyde.
“Just stay calm,” Clyde told her, speaking in a simple but brave way.
“It’s going to be hard to stay calm with Roscoe riding up on us!” Bonnie hated the fear she heard in her voice. She also felt bad about snapping at Clyde, but she couldn’t help it.
Roscoe found me!
Then, the sky fell. Three riders thundered over the rise like hungry shadows, holding rifles ready to kill. Bonnie narrowed her eyes and tried to spot Roscoe’s horse. I don’t see him?—
A single rifle shot cut her thoughts dry.
One of the riders fired at Ace. The bullet missed by a mile, it seemed like.
No matter. Ace returned the favor—but his bullet nearly took the rider’s head off his shoulders.
Bonnie saw a red cloud of blood leave the man’s head, right before his body topped off his horse and fell to the ground with a sickening splat.
When the other two riders saw their friend take the hand of death, they broke apart and ran back over the rise.
Roscoe doesn’t attack like that—and he doesn’t run from a fight.
Bonnie’s heart was racing so fast, she could barely breathe, but as she watched the riders retreat, a wave of relief washed over the fire of panic burning in her soul.
“Hold your positions!” Ace hollered out. “They might run at us again!”
“Carver?” Finn yelled.
“Not sure!” Ace yelled back.
Even though the dead man was a good ways off, Bonnie began to smell death and blood. His body lay crumpled on the ground like a pile of horse manure.
That’s how it ends: a single bullet ends it all. One single bullet. For what? Some beef?
After a few good minutes passed, Ace rode up to the dead man. Bonnie watched him check the body. He pulled a yellow bandanna free from the dead man’s neck and rode back. “Ride up!” he yelled out.
Bonnie followed Clyde to the front of the herd. “What is it?” she asked.
Ace held up the bandanna. “Gang of some sort. Bandits who struck last night were wearing these yellow bandannas, too. Think we putting a hurting to them.”
“Think we should track them?” Finn asked.
“We would, but it’s best if we stay with the herd.” Ace shoved the bandanna into his saddlebag. “We’ll leave the body. In fact, we’ll dump all the bodies.”
“You sure?” Dallas asked. “Law don’t take kindly to killing.”
“Nope,” Ace agreed. “I’ll just have to send word ahead to Fort Reno.”
Bonnie felt glad Ace wanted to leave the dead men they’d been hauling. But why?
Ace answered her question. He dismounted and walked to the horse holding Lyle’s body. Bonnie tensed up when he checked the saddlebags and his pockets. Then, he pulled off the man’s boots. A yellow bandanna immediately fell out of the right boot.
“Well, I’ll be!” Clyde exclaimed.
“How’d ya know?” Finn asked.
“Checked his boots last night when no one was around. Seems like he wasn’t the loner he claimed to be.” Ace walked back to his horse. “Hauling the bodies is slowing us down. Ain’t worth it. Let the buzzards get ’em.”
“Or maybe you’re wanting to leave a message for Roscoe Carver?” Dallas suggested.
Bonnie saw Ace look at Dallas in a curious way. “Don’t hurt,” he answered.
“And maybe you brought the dead bodies along because you wanted the other riders to know we mean business,” Dallas added and then grinned. “You ain’t dumb, Ace. Not at all.
“Just testing the waters, is all.” Ace looked around. “Okay, let’s cut the bodies free. We’ll take the horses and turn them over at Fort Reno when we get there.”
Bonnie stared at Ace. He’s a smart man. Leaving dead bodies spread out on the trail ain’t smart.
But leaving a pile of them in one place will rally the buzzards—and Roscoe will see those buzzards, too.
He won’t stop riding for me, but he’ll know Ace ain’t no soft touch, that’s for sure.
Ace shoots to kill, and he ain’t never gonna shoot another way.
Maybe he’ll kill Roscoe. I can only pray.
After piling the bodies together, Ace got the herd moving again. The last two riders didn’t dare attack. Bonnie never saw hide or hair from them ever again. Didn’t matter. Death was still behind her on the trail and riding fast.