Cain just Cain (Shad Cain Book 2) Read online

  Cain…. just Cain

  By Lou Bradshaw

  Copyright L E Bradshaw ©2015

  Cover Art Copyright L E Bradshaw ©2015

  All rights reserved

  No portion of this book may be reproduced by any means without written permission from the author or his authorized representative. The only exception would be for small excerpts for review purposes.

  This story is a work of fiction, and is the product of the author’s imagination. It is not intended to depict any actual person or persons, living or dead.

  Books on Amazon Kindle by Lou Bradshaw in order of publication date.

  HUMOR

  A Fine Kettle of Fish

  WESTERN

  Hickory Jack

  Blue

  Ace High

  Blue Norther

  Cain

  One Man Standing

  Rubio

  Cain… just Cain

  CHILDREN’S Picture Book

  Tegan, Princess of the High Sierra

  Written by Tara Vohs - Illustrated by Lou Bradshaw

  This book is dedicated to the memory of my good friend and golf partner, Bob (Robert) Lynn. I will soon forget the lost balls, the shanks, and the slices. But I will not forget having that rarest creature of all walking along beside me… a true Gentleman.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 1

  Riding into the ranch yard of the MB connected, all I was hoping for was to spend a night in the bunk house and maybe put my feet under Maria’s table. She was sure ‘nuff a fine cook. My thoughts were all about beefsteak and cornbread and smashed taters. Standing there tying my horse to the corral rail, I was wakened from my dream when, Dog started growling. Dog was a big homely mongrel that runs with me. He’s not one to growl without a good reason, so I mostly pay attention when he does. It was low and deep, and sounded important.

  Before I could move or turn my head, I heard the ratchet of a Winchester behind me. I froze where I was, with my right hand on the top rail. Being left handed wasn’t gonna help me much, with that rifle all cocked and ready to drive, so I just relaxed and waited.

  “Mister, you just keep them hands where I can see ‘em,” a voice told me, “and you turn around real slow like.”

  I turned around slowly, and found myself looking onto the drawn and haggard face of Rafe Baker, one of Ben’s long time hands. Baker lowered the rifle. Then he eased the hammer down as his face melted into as much of a smile as I’d ever seen on him.

  “My Gawd, Cain, am I ever happy to see your homely face… There’s been some bad trouble here, but let’s go to the house and the boss lady can tell you about it.”

  We turned and started toward the house, when the door busted open and Miss Patty Anne came tearing out to meet us. She ran straight at us and was running full out when she hit me, and she was crying her head off. She wrapped her arms around my ribs and near squeezed the gizzard out of me. All the while, she was bawling like a baby.

  When she got herself all cried out, and my shirt front soggy, she stepped back and looked up at me and started telling me a hundred things at once. “Hold on, Miss Patty Anne, slow down and let me catch up to you.” I said, and she realized that she was just babbling, so she took a deep breath and patted the tears from her eyes. Then she blew her nose and began.

  “Shadrac Cain, other than Ben, you’re the one man I’m happiest to see ridin’ in.” She broke into a few racking sobs and went on.

  The gist of what she told me was, while she, the baby, and her grandpa were over to his ranch the S–S or Esses, six men came to the MB and grabbed their little boy, Andy and the housekeeper Rita. They slapped Maria around a bit out of pure meanness, the leader wrote a note, and then they rode off. Maria got on a horse and rode bareback to the Esses.

  We went inside and she handed me the note. I said, “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but maybe you ought to read it for me… by the time I cipher out that tangledy writin’ it would be dark.”

  She took the paper, and choked back a couple of sobs and read…

  Blue, you ruined me. Now I’m gettin my evens. It’s gon ta cost you $5000 to git yor boy back. and the woman. She just along to take care of the kid. Yu’ll be hearing from me.

  Frank Dooly

  I was ready to hit the trail and do some work on ‘em, but I needed some information first. “When did this happen?” I asked.

  “The day before yesterday.”

  “Is Ben and Rubio out on the trail?”

  “No… That’s the bad part. Ben’s with a herd… on his way to the rail head. And Rubio is down with the Rheumatics… he can’t even set a horse, and he shouldn’t. Sheriff Nelson took a posse out, but we haven’t heard anything yet…. Charlie Clark took a message to Ben, but that could take a week or more before he can get here... Charlie’ll take the herd on to the rail head.”

  I was ready to move and get on the track. “Patty Anne, I’ll need a fresh horse and grub for two weeks. My horse just made a trip from Santa Fe, and he won’t be worth much on the trail… If there’s an extra box of .44s I could use ‘em. I can be on the trail in about a half hour.”

  “Dusty’s in the corral and well rested. We’ll get everything you need right pronto.” She was calling Maria, as I went out the back door to the corral.

  I got my rig switched over to the buckskin… I knew the horse, and he was a good one. Ben always called him his best trail horse. I was surprised that he hadn’t taken him on the drive. Dusty was a cut above just about any other critter in the remuda. But his real value was up in wild country instead of slogging along with a bunch of dumb cows.

  When I got back to the house, Patty Anne was holding a little curly red headed baby girl, and Maria was putting the last of my pack together. Maria was still showing bruises on her face, so I put my arm across her shoulder and petted her a bit. She was a hefty woman and an armful. She started to sniff and hugged me back. I asked her if she could tell me what they looked like.

  She told me that only three of them came inside. But the leader was tall like me, and not so tall like Señor Ben. And he was skinny and pale with dirty hair. His hair and stubble of beard were dark brown… “And he was stupid. I speak better Engles than him.”

  She didn’t notice much about the others, only the one who was smacking her around. “I fight him good, Señor Chadrak, but he take the niño anyway.”

  “Ma’am,” I said to Patty Anne, “when I get that little fella safe to home, I’ll come back and fall in love with that little gal you’re a holdin’, but it’ll have to wait.”

  I grabbed up that pack and the extra box of cartridges and asked which direction they went. She told me to go north along the river and follow the posse’s trail. As I went out the door I told her to tell Ben I’ll mark him a trail.

  As I swung into the saddle, she came out the door and called to me, “Thank you, Shadrac Cain, and God Bless you.”

  Well, I could use a blessing for a lot of things, but for this one in particular, I could use all the help I could get. I tried to think of everything that I would possibly need, but there was surely something I’d forgot. Luckily I’d asked fo
r something that belonged to the boy so Dog could get the scent if it came to that. Maria gave me one of his night shirts that hadn’t been washed yet.

  I found the posse trail without much trouble. I could read that trail at a gallop, but there was no need to wear a good horse out on the first day. So I let that mustang set his own pace and I just kinda steered him. Dog kept up at a lope.

  That dog was anything but a handsome animal, but he was a good friend to have around. I’d bought him from Rubio along with some sheep that I decided I had no use for and sent them back…. no refund on the sheep. Rubio don’t miss a lick when it comes to money. But I’d kept the dog… he was worth more’n all them sheep put together. I don’t recall what name he’d come with, but it was more name than I cared to remember. So I just called him Dog…. He was alright with that.

  He was a tall loose limbed critter… all kind of gray and white and black mottled all together. He stood about to mid thigh at the shoulders, and he had a big broad head with a mean bunch of teeth with powerful jaws. Old Dog was a survivor. There weren’t much he wouldn’t tackle, but he knew when to retreat. Me and Dog were a matched pair.

  ~~~~~ 0~~~~~

  I met the posse the next morning; they had lost the trail and were heading back to town. Sheriff Nelson was glad to see me, since he didn’t have a good tracker in the bunch. He’d always relied on Rubio, and he hadn’t realized that Rubio was well over seventy years old. Those nights of sleeping on the ground and in the rain take a toll on a man as he get older. And that didn’t even take into consideration the broncs he’d been thrown from or the chunks of lead or flint that had pierced his hide. I reckoned that I had it to look forward to.

  “You know anything about this fella, Dooly?” I asked.

  “Not much,” he replied, “I got a flyer on him a little while back. Seems that he was part of that renegade bunch that Ben rounded up over in Texas a while back. They hung the worst of them, but some of them got sent to prison.”

  “It seems that he got to be a big man in the pokey, he had him some followers, and they broke out… I got word to US Marshall Stewart down in Santa Fe. He sets Ben high in his opinion, so I suppose he’ll be pullin’ in a lot of favors to get some help on this.”

  “How far back did you lose the trail?” I asked.

  “About fifteen miles up, give or take. It was there and then it was gone. We really boogered up the area. What with eight horses millin’ around, there wasn’t anything left to give a direction…. Sheriffin’ ain’t much fun when the Sheriff has to be the smartest one in the posse.”

  “Sheriff, you might run into Ben on your way down… depending on how many horses he wears out gettin’ back. Tell him I’ll bust my butt to get that youngen back safe and sound… and that Rita gal too.”

  “You want some of these boys to go along with you? I’ll be headin’ back as soon as I can get some fresh horses and men.”

  “Thanks just the same, Sheriff, but I work better by my lonesome… and I can booger up a trail my ownself.”

  “I know how you feel… good luck.”

  We parted, with him going south for a new start. And I was pointed north with the hopes of picking up the trail. When I reached the place where they turned back, I had to admit, those boys sure made a mess of things. Casting around, I couldn’t pick up even a smudge in any direction. My thinking was, they’d turned off the main trail a ways back. So me and Dog went back about a half mile and started over.

  I got down and held that nightshirt up to Dog’s nose. He sniffed at it and then we went on a ways with me leading the buckskin. We walked and that critter sniffed but he wasn’t interested in anything in particular. It dawned on me that if the boy was sitting on a horse, it might be kind of a stretch even for a good mongrel nose like Dog’s.

  Without warning old Dog lifted his head sniffing and whining. He was sniffing left and sniffing right. Something had him excited; I could only hope there wasn’t some lonely lady wolf or coyote out there in the brush.

  “Go ahead, Dog.” I told him. And he did. He stuck his nose to the ground and started off into the brush, that’s when I saw the prints. There were prints of seven horses, and there were prints of at least one man and one woman on the ground. Dog went sniff sniffing around and behind a tree. That’s where I found the prints of a much smaller size in the wet ground.

  It looked like the youngen was standing facing the backside of that tree… Of course, the boy had to go. Little boys pee on trees. It’s been that way since time began. I reckoned that Ben’s boy had to be about three or four now. Nope, I think it would be three. That’s about the right age.

  I could see how the sheriff’s bunch missed it. The cut off was pretty well concealed, and there wasn’t any other trail coming in. They just went off into the brush. So naturally, I just followed ‘em.

  Chapter 2

  It wasn’t long till they came to an old trail. It was probably an old Indian trail, narrow and overgrown. At first glance, I’d say it was a trail used long before those folks had horses because it seemed to want to go where horses don’t like to go… like up and over a steep ridge. A man on foot would just climb on up, but a horse carrying a man would have to scramble. I backed off a ways and took it at an angle, and that Dusty horse did fine.

  At the top of the ridge, they stopped and rested their horses. I still didn’t understand there being seven horses instead of six, unless they had a pack animal in tow. While I was contemplating their horse count, I looked around to see if any of them got down. But there were no people tracks on the ground. So I moved on.

  A little farther on, I came to their camp. It was down in a gully, which was all grown over with brush and saplings, there was grass growing along the sides and in the bottom. That gully hadn’t taken on much water in the last ten or fifteen years because the willows were dying out and the aspens were taking over.

  Their ashes were stone cold, which told me that they hadn’t been here for at least a day… probably a day and a half. Looking around at the sleeping arrangements, I saw where the woman and the boy had slept and a man had slept right close to the woman. There wasn’t any sign that anything naughty was going on. He probably just meant to keep an eye on her.

  Looking around some more, I could see where the rest of them slept. I could see where the woman had stood or squatted at the fire, while she did the cooking. I couldn’t remember any Rita from the times I’d been at the MB, but that didn’t mean anything. I usually had my mind on what Maria was cooking up on that stove of hers. But I’m sure she was a proper and able woman or girl. The thought that she might be a young girl gave me a case of the worries.

  This sort of thing can be mighty tough for a mature woman to endure, but for a young and innocent teen aged girl it can be something she might never out live. That was something I didn’t want to dwell on, I just wanted to press on.

  Something I noticed in their camp was that the woman and the boy were riding on a horse by themselves. So that told me the outlaws had planned to grab someone to take care of the lad. Either that or they just threw a loop over whatever was in Ben’s corral.

  I had another couple hours of daylight, so I kept going. The way they were going, we’d be smack dab in the middle of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains soon. And that can be right smack dab in the middle of high up. I hoped they’d brought some warm duds for that youngen because it’s gonna be cold up there. That thought pushed me on to the point where I had to stop, but I still wanted to go a little farther.

  Morning found me, sitting astraddle of the buckskin and following a trail through a fine growth of spruce, which told me that we were eight or nine thousand feet up. It was early in May, but we were too high for it to feel much like spring. Up above, I could see a lot of snow above the timberline and a good deal of it still at lower elevations in crevasses and cracks.

  The trail led around and up the mountain. If we went much higher, I’d be following without much cover. I was mostly concerned about the boy because it
was getting colder, and these mountain peaks are well noted for their winds. Those old time Indians who made that trail must have surely wanted something important to go up there.

  Before I reached the timberline, the trail turned down hill again. I’m sure those old people without horses had some reason to go so high, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure it. It wasn’t long before they split off and took another old trail going east and down. That would be a sight better for the boy and the woman. I doubted if they had more than a blanket to keep the cold off ‘em.

  They seemed to know where they were headed… I sure wished I did. They led me back down in and amongst the pines and firs, and I shed my sheepskin coat. It was still cool, but nothing like it was up above.

  I found their next camp site later that morning. The coals were still warm, they weren’t hot but warm. I had gained a good bit of time on them. I figured to be about a half a day back. I gave Dog another sniff of that night shirt and he went right to where the boy and the woman had slept.

  Then he sniffed all over the camp, so the boy must have had some freedom to move around. The site was well tracked, and the little meadow where they had picketed the horses showed that a lot of grass had been eaten. The horses had been moved several times. That told me they had spent more than one night there.

  To my way of thinking, they were resting up for the final leg. That climb up toward the timberline had to take a lot out of them. I asked that Dusty horse if he wanted to rest up a day, but he didn’t answer, so I took that as a no. Dog didn’t seem to have any preference whatsoever. He never does. We moved on.

  The trail moved on down toward a saddle, where the mountain I was on connected with another and even bigger one. It was heavy with pine and fir up to where the spruce took over. Down below the lighter color of the newly leafing aspens was a sharp contrast. It was a sight to behold.

  But I wasn’t here on a sightseeing trip. I was here to get a little boy and take him back to his mama. And I was here to get a woman of unknown age or status out of the hands of a mighty low down sort.