Chapter Seventeen
“Best let the cattle get some water,” Dallas called out.
Ace glanced up at a hot sun peering down from a clear sky. The day had turned hot real fast-like. Early afternoon had always seemed like the hottest part of the day to him.
Best stop the herd and give the horses a rest. We’re still close to the river. Rivers are usually good friends on the trail. Not so much right now, though. Carver knows the herd needs water.
“We’ll let the herd get some water and move on!” Ace called.
Bonnie rode up to him. “I’m sorry, Ace, but I need to find a tree.”
Ace looked around as Dallas and Clyde worked quickly to snag a runner and bring the steer back to the herd. “Only trees are by the river, but the brush is thick here. Lots of good places for an ambush.”
“I can see that, but I can’t help it,” Bonnie insisted nervously. “It ain’t my fault.”
“Didn’t say it was.” Ace looked through Bonnie’s tension and saw a beautiful woman who was capturing his heart. He hated to admit it, but he couldn’t deny the truth—even if he’d rather sit on a rattler than say it out loud. “I’ll ride over to the river with you and stand behind a tree.”
“Well… okay, I reckon. Just don’t peek at me.”
“Bonnie?—?”
“A woman needs her privacy, Ace!” Bonnie rode off without saying another word.
“Dallas, Clyde, watch the herd. Bonnie needs to find a tree.” Ace went after Bonnie.
Bonnie found a good-sized tree to go behind. She handed Ace the reins to her horse. “I’ll hurry. Takes a minute to do my business.”
Instead of feeling impatient, Ace felt sorry for Bonnie. She deserves to have more dignity. Just ain’t right for a woman to be out here like this.
Ace tried not to listen as Bonnie went about her business. This part of the river was shallow and calm. He heard Dallas and Clyde moving the herd toward the river. A few minutes later, the sound of splashes followed as the herd waded into the shallow water.
Good. That’ll cool them off. Feels good sitting here in the shade.
Getting comfortable wasn’t an option, though. Carver had taken Finn. That was bad news.
“Almost done?—?” Bonnie began.
A bullet cut her voice off.
Ace heard the bullet strike a tree close to Bonnie. He scrambled off his horse and grabbed his rifle faster than his heart could race. Whether Bonnie had her britches up or down didn’t matter. He ran around the tree and grabbed her arm. “Get down!”
Bonnie had her britches up, but not secure. She hit the ground as Ace dropped to one knee and fired at the river. No shooter was in sight, but Ace couldn’t just do nothing.
As Dallas and Clyde scrambled to get the herd out of the river, Ace locked his gaze on the opposite bank, scanning the trees.
He spotted movement, and a young man darted out from behind a tree and aimed a rifle directly at Dallas.
Instinct kicked in hard. Ace’s mind returned to the war.
Panic was never an option. Some men ran when the enemy was showing too much power.
Lines broke. Rifles stopped firing. Fear took control.
Not so with Ace. He’d learned that death was inevitable.
If a man wasn’t willing to die, he couldn’t fight.
A man that couldn’t fight was worse than a coward.
Ace tagged the shooter in his sights and fired off a single shot.
The bullet soared across the river and chewed through the heart of his target. The young man stumbled back like he’d been hit by lightning and then collapsed to the ground, deader than grave dirt.
A clean kill. Nothing messy—the kind of shot battle-fatigued soldiers called a deadeye.
“He got Matt!” a furious voice hollered.
Ace sighted the tree where the voice had come from and clipped some bark off it as a warning, then took cover behind a tree standing next to him. Bonnie crawled up. “Stay down,” he ordered.
“I got my rifle. If Roscoe shows his face, I’ll clean it,” Bonnie told Ace, but he heard the fear in her voice. Still, he figured she meant her words.
Dallas and Clyde cleared the herd and took cover behind some trees.
Ace wasn’t sure why Roscoe hadn’t started shooting at the herd. That’s what Ace would’ve done. Chaos was a powerful weapon. Instead of chaos, silence dropped over the land. Only the sound of the river reached his ears.
A minute later, a man—Ace guessed it must be Roscoe—yelled out, “You’re crossing a line you don’t need to, Carter! Just give me my wife, and I’ll give your cowhand back!”
He’s right across the river, behind that tree. I couldn’t get off a clean shot if I tried. Dallas and Clyde are too far down. At least the herd is clear.
“Just send Finn over here and ride on, Carver!”
“You must have ticks in your head!” Roscoe yelled back. “Bonnie is my legal wife. Either you give her over, or I’m going to get the law—a fella can hang for kidnapping a woman!”
“Ace ain’t kidnapped me, Roscoe, and I’ll tell the law that, too!” Bonnie’s voice cleared the river. “I ain’t letting you take me back. Not ever, you hear me? I saw you kill Rosalind, and I heard you kill that saloon girl!”
“You shut your mouth and do what you’re told!” Roscoe roared menacingly. Ace could tell the monster meant her a world of hurt, if not death. “You’re my legal wife! It’s my duty to fetch you. Now stop acting like a darn fool!”
“I ain’t going back this time, Roscoe!” Bonnie yelled, her voice filled with a desperate anger, along with determination and grit.
She ain’t gonna let Carver take her back. She’ll fight to her death first. She’s reached her limit, and when a woman gets to that point, all she can do is fight.
“Just ride on, Carver! One man is dead—don’t need to be no more killing!” Ace called out, keeping his eyes on the trees across the river. The brush was tall; shooters could be tucked into the brush, hiding, but Ace didn’t think so. Mostly because he was still alive.
“We’ll just keep after you!” another man yelled—possibly the man Bonnie had called Jack. “We’ll track you all the way to Wichita and go to the law! Roscoe’s got the legal papers!”
“I say we just kill ’em now!” a third angry voice raged.
“Finn, you okay over there?” Clyde hollered.
“Yeah, they got me all tied up, is all!”
Boy howdy, hearing Finn’s voice made Ace feel like he’d struck gold. He bowed his head and breathed, “Thank you, Lord. Thank you.”
“Carter, you can’t win!” Roscoe hollered. “I ain’t wanting to become enemies. I’m willing to overlook this mess and ride on if you give Bonnie over to me. She ain’t none of your concern!”
Ace looked up. He had to think fast and think smart. I’m probably outnumbered. Won’t get far. Carver will just keep after me. Choctaw reservation ain’t too far from here. If we can get the herd there, we might be okay—but first, I got to slow Carver down.
“Army might think otherwise, Carver,” Ace yelled out. “I done sent word up to Fort Reno asking Colonel Edwards to send a dispatch down my way to escort the herd to Wichita. If you try to kill us and take off with the herd, Colonel Edwards will run you down!”
“I don’t care about your measly herd!”
“Ain’t no matter, Carver. Bonnie laid everything out in a letter I sent to Fort Reno with a paid rider!” When Bonnie looked at him warily, he whispered, “Just go along with it.”
Bonnie drew in a shaky breath. “That’s right, Roscoe! I done told ’em how you killed Rosalind and that saloon girl, how you beat me and all—everything!”
“I handed Bonnie’s letter to the rider myself,” Dallas hollered, obviously catching on. “Reckon he would’ve reached Fort Reno yesterday.”
Silence.
Ace waited.
“Carter, you just made the worst mistake of your life,” Roscoe called. “I ain’t gonna overlook this—you’re a dead man!”
“Then let’s fight it out,” Ace challenged. “I ain’t sending Bonnie across the river!”
“I’ll kill your cowhand as sure as you’re breathing if you don’t!”
“Don’t give Bonnie over!” Finn yelled. “I ain’t afraid to die! Never was to start off with! My folks taught me that being with God is a whole lot better’n riding trails!”
“I reckon I’ll be seeing you in Heaven with them angels we talk about!” Clyde called out in a heavy, sorrowful voice.
“You be strong, now, you hear me?” Finn called out to Clyde. “Just keep riding and doing good. You’re the best partner a fella could ask for—mighty proud to have rode with you!”
“Yep, same goes for?—?”
“Shut up!” Roscoe yelled. “Carter, you got ten minutes to make up your mind!”
“Already did. We’ll fight it out!” Ace checked his rifle. He always brought plenty of bullets on the trail. How many bullets did Roscoe have? He’s gonna kill Finn, sure as I’m standing here. I need to stop that from happening… but how?
Sorrow hit Ace in a real bad way. He liked Finn, thought very highly of the man. Wished I’d sat around the cookfire and chewed the fat with him more. Just my way to sit off alone. Regret that now. Just hard to lose a friend…
Ace turned his head and looked down toward Clyde’s position. If Finn dies, at least Clyde can go on knowing he’s been a good friend. That counts for something.
“I ain’t coming back, Roscoe,” Bonnie taunted, checking her rifle and causing Ace to turn his head back to the river. “You ain’t never gonna touch me again. Always made me feel dirty for days afterward. I could never scrub my body hard enough!”
“You shut your mouth!”
“You’re a coward, Roscoe. You had no right to kill Rosalind, and I’ll put a bullet in my own heart before letting you lay a hand on me ever again!”
“And I’ll spend the rest of my life tracking you down!” Clyde promised.
Silence… Then, the sound of horses riding off. Just like that. No more shooting. No more death. Just retreating hooves.
Ace lowered his rifle. He’ll be back, I reckon.
He looked at Bonnie, whose hands were shaking so hard, she could barely hold her rifle.
“Bonnie—”
“He ain’t ever gonna touch me again, Ace. I meant what I said. I’ll kill myself first.”
Ace looked back at the river. What was Roscoe up to? One of his men was lying dead beside a tree. The body was a warning that Bonnie wasn’t going to give up without more blood spilled.
“We’ll wait a few minutes and get the herd moving,” Ace decided. “I want to meet up with some friends.”