Cain just Cain (Shad Cain Book 2) Page 3

  “Do tell?” I said.

  He settled down and filled his cup from the pot. He was a talker and he never shut up, so I just let him jaw away wondering what else would come rolling out of his mouth. He sat for a while then he got up and paced back and forth just out of the rain. I could see he was anxious to get on the trail, but he sure didn’t want to go out in that rain.

  Finally he said, “Boy I sure cain’t wait to git down to Taos. I mail that letter and then I can have me a time… you bechee!”

  Turning back toward the fire and me, he gave the camp a good look. His eyes stopped on my Winchester leaning against the rock wall beside me. I could read his mind as he was calculating if I could reach over and bring it into action quick enough.

  “You know, Cain, if I had me a few more dollars, I could have me a real bang up time down there in town… You ain’t maybe got a couple dollars you could spare for a friend do you?”

  I was carrying about three hundred dollars from my business dealings in Santa Fe, but there wasn’t any way he was going to get any of it. So I told him, “No sir, if I had more’n a couple of two bit pieces to rub together, I wouldn’t be out here in this rain huntin’ meat… and besides that, I wouldn’t be likely to give it to you for your whorin’ and drinkin’ pleasures.

  He grinned a wide cheese faced smile and looked again at my rifle and said, “That’s too bad… but I reckon I can have a good time from sellin’ your horse and saddle.” As he was saying that, he was leisurely pulling the gun from his holster.

  His eyes lit up when he heard the hammer coming back on the Colt that had been laying beside my left leg… but it was too late. By that time, his third button was pressed against his backbone or tearing through it. His mama should have been a little choosier when it came to picking a sire. Stupidity isn’t necessarily a disease, but it can sure ‘nuff kill a person.

  I went through his things and found the letter that was to be sent to Ben. I stuck it in my saddle bag. He didn’t have anything else of importance so I just left it all and rolled him down the slope. My first thought was to take his horse and turn Jimmer’s loose, but if I took that fellas nag up there and one of the other horses got wind of him… it could be a problem. He could be a pal to one of them.

  I might not need an extra horse because I had a hunch that the woman may not be riding out with me and the boy.

  Chapter 4

  When morning was on me, I had me some of last night’s coffee and fried up a little bit of bacon before I moved on upstream, That creek had risen over night to where it would be a chore to cross, especially with the lad. I decided to go ahead and mosey on up that way and get the lay of the land. I wasn’t one to make a lot of complicated plans, so I thought to go up there and see what happened. If I could Injun on up there and snatch the boy, maybe we could out run ‘em… that was a pretty crafty horse I had under me.

  So I took the rigging off of that yay-hoo’s horse and gave it a whack heading downstream, he’d run for a while and then find something else to do. I went ahead and stripped old Jimmer’s rig and turned his horse loose. He wasn’t much, and I figured he’d be more of hinder than he’d be worth.

  If that woman wasn’t what that fella said, I’d put them two on the buckskin and keep the boogers off ‘em from the ground. I could hold my own in wild country. I figured at the very worst, they’d kill me. Ben would be coming up trail soon enough… I hoped.

  Working my way up through that valley, I rode with a good deal of caution. I didn’t know if they were holed up in a camp or cabin. I didn’t even know which side of the creek they were on. I expected them to be on the north side because their tracks were on that side, and I couldn’t feature them crossing that creek anymore than they needed to.

  All the way up through that valley, I kept a look out for places to cross the creek, and none of it looked good. The water was fairly ripping down through that valley. But it wasn’t as fierce as it had been earlier that morning. If I could get the boy out, we’d have to cross that water sometime before it flowed out onto the plateau and into the Rio Grande.

  After about four miles of riding in the valley, I moved up above the talus and into the pines and aspens. I knew, that idiot cheese faced outlaw had said it was seven or eight miles to the mining claim, but he wasn’t smart enough to leave my camp under his own power.

  Sure enough, at about the five mile mark, I heard the sound of an ax splitting wood up ahead. I got down and dropped the reins That Dusty horse would stay there the rest of the day if need be.

  First thing I did was change my worn out boots for a pair of worn out elk hide moccasins. I didn’t need to go stomping through the woods like a bull. I was hoping to slip up on them… if it was them. Then I’d figure out what I was going to do, or I might just get lucky.

  Going from tree to bush to tree, I snaked my way up to an open area where the forest had been cleared and a small cabin had been built. It wasn’t all that small, it was a sight bigger than mine, but mine empties out into untold thousands of square feet of cave. Anyway, it was small compared to some.

  There was a man over across the clearing near the corner of the cabin splitting chunks of wood… probably for cooking, since the air was fresh but not cool. Beyond the wood splitter there was a corral with a half dozen horses milling or standing around. That corral looked like it had been there longer than the cabin. It was only held together by rawhide strips in several places. The horses didn’t know that or they’d be scattered all over the valley.

  A woman came to the cabin door and called out to the man splitting wood, “Jesse! Hey, Jess!” the man looked up from his work and mumbled something. “Where the hell did Frank get off to?”

  “Him and Fargo went off looking to shoot some meat up yonder.” He pointed up the mountain behind him.

  “What about Pete or Willis?” she asked.

  “They’s both in the shed, workin’ on some of the worn out leather riggin’s.”

  “Get Willis to come get this kid, and keep him amused…. A body cain’t get nothin’ done with him underfoot and spillin’ things. Willis ain’t got the brains to fix a bridle anyhow.”

  Jesse sunk his ax into the chopping block and trudged around the corral to an attached shed I hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t much more than a stick and mud affair, that seemed to be more than ready to come down with the next good wind.

  A young fella came out with Jesse and went to the cabin where he collected the scion of the Blue family and led him out into the clearing. The young man, Willis, was tall thin and bore a strong resemblance to the dead man in the brush back at my last camp. They could have been brothers or cousins.

  Little Andy Blue and Willis were milling around in the space between me and the cabin. For a while, the young man tried to run around with the lad playing some kind of chase game, but that soon wore poor Willis to a frazzle. So, sitting on one of the many stumps, Willis picked up a smooth round stone about the size of a plum and tossed it off into the grass. The little curly red headed scamp tore out after it, picked it up and returned it to Willis. That went on for a few minutes; Willis rolled a smoke and settled in to an easy game of go fetch.

  There was a little ruckus going on in the corral. One of the horses seemed to have a dislike for his neighbor. Willis tossed the stone over his shoulder in my direction, just as Jesse called out to him, “Willis, git over here and calm that hoss down afore he breaks up the corral.” Willis took off cussin.

  I was watching the skinny young man shuffle across the clearing, and I looked for the boy again, so I could run out and grab him, when I heard, “Hey, Misther Cain. Is my pa here?” and there he stood at my feet with that rock in his hand.

  Scooping the lad up and said, “Son, let’s take you home to your mama.” And I took off running back to my horse. That ruckus in the corral was getting worse and there was a lot of yelling and a fair amount of swearing. I figured that one of those critters had gotten a sniff of the buckskin and started a riot.

/>   We were in the saddle and turning down hill when I heard that corral come apart. That could only be good for us. It would take them awhile to settle those critters down and get them rounded up. I had no idea how long it would take to discover the boy was missing… I was hoping it would take several weeks, but I wasn’t counting on that. They’d scour the woods and the area around the cabin until they found my tracks. Then they’d be after us.

  I had little Andy in front of me holding an arm around him. He reached up and patted the horse’s neck and said, “Hey, Dusty.”

  “You hang on tight to that saddle horn, son, we’re in for a wild ride.” I told him as we hit the valley floor. At that point, if I’d had spurs on my moccasins, I’d have drawn some buckskin blood because I sure dug my heels in. That Dusty horse responded like a champion.

  When we were well past the first bend and well out of sight from the cabin, I started looking for some of those crossings I’d seen while coming up. I could hear something coming up behind us, and I told the boy to hang on tight. I pulled the thong off my six-gun and turned to look back. It was one of their runaway horses, and he was coming on hard.

  Finding the stream crossing that I wanted, we took it at a gallop, which only slowed to a lunge as we hit the mid stream channel. And then we were on solid footing again and climbing out on the other side. That big gray runaway came through right behind us. That was going to put someone afoot because they’d never catch that one again. He looked like he was headin’ for a barn somewhere, and it wasn’t up in that clearing.

  I turned the buckskin around in a tight little circle to get my bearings and see which was the best route out of that valley. If my calculations were correct, the little hamlet of Rio Quatros was on the other side of that mountain just south of us. From there, it was down hill to the plateau and the MB. We’d go up that slope and over the shoulder and work our way down the other side.

  That gray that was following us, didn’t seem to want to leave us. I figured he’d be half way to the Rio Grande by now, but he was nose to nose with the buckskin. The little fella was sitting there waving at him and said, “Hey Jake Horse.” I took a closer look at it, and sure ‘nuff, it was one of Ben’s riding horses. He was a big gray with plenty of power. He would have been great up there in Wyoming or Montana where you need those big boned critters to bust through the snow. I doubted that he was much good as a cow pony, but he’d be good for a long haul.

  “Well, come on along, big fella, we’ll take you home too.”

  Kicking that buckskin a little, we took off downstream at a pretty good clip. The gray stayed right with us. No wonder there was such a ruckus in the corral, once he got a whiff of his stable pard, there was no holding him. Those two had been it the same corral and barn for four or five years… they were pals.

  I figured when that bunch hit the MB they just took the first horse they’d come to for the woman and the boy. Now someone’s riding double or walking. I heard three rifle shots from back toward that cabin. I reckoned they were calling the hunters in. “Andy,” I said, “I don’t reckon they found you yet.”

  He just said, “Nope.” I liked that boy. There was no scare in him.

  When we reached a place that looked likely, I climbed down and changed back into my disreputable old boots. Then I dug out a blanket and wrapped it around the youngen. He didn’t get soaked coming through the creek, but he got wet enough to be chilled… I sure didn’t want to take him back to his ma with a leaky nose.

  Back in the saddle, we started up that slope on a game trail, which I figured we’d have to abandon sooner or later. A mule deer can go places a horse can’t, so we only used it for about a thousand feet… in altitude. Working our way around boulders, trees, outcroppings of rock, we were making a poor showing of it. But if they planned to follow us, they’d have the same problems.

  We’d stop every now and then to rest the buckskin, and I’d let the lad stretch his legs while I went back a ways to listen. I reckoned that they’d lost the scent. I couldn’t believe we’d got off that easy… things like that didn’t happen to me. If there was a rock sticking out of the ground, that’s where I’d put my bedroll. Things were never easy for a fella named Shadrac. Well, I didn’t necessarily need easy; I just needed to get that boy back home safe.

  Once when we stopped for a breather, I switched the saddle from Dusty to the gray. That buckskin had done a hell of a job since we left Maria’s kitchen. He could get a little rest now. We were riding toward a saddle, where we’d go between the bulks of two mountains. With any luck, we’d start on the down slope that would lead us right into Rio Quatros. I didn’t think they’d mess with us after that. If they did… well that would be their worry.

  I gave the boy some jerky to chew on and we had plenty of water, so he’d be alright, as far as those needs were concerned. I kinda gave him the idea that he was on a great adventure. For a youngen no more than three or three and a half years old he had nerve and plenty of pluck. He fell asleep for a spell during the afternoon. He just sort of rolled over and nestled in the crook of my arm…. Made me feel real funny.

  As the shadows started getting long and the sky was taking on some pretty fanciful colors off to the west, I began looking for someplace where we could build a fire and without letting everyone in the mountains that we had done it.

  I set us up with a small fire to make some coffee and fry up some bacon. It would just be something to keep us going. I asked the little fella if he liked bacon and he said, “Sure do, but mama won’t let me have it. She make me eat vegables.”

  “Well, when you’re on the trail with old Cain, you get to eat bacon, and you can chase it down with some of these dried apples and raisons.”

  He dug in with a vengeance and had his fair share and promptly fell asleep. I put another blanket on him and changed the saddle back to the buckskin for the trip down the mountain in the moonlight. I trusted that on to show good sense. I didn’t know the gray well enough, but I didn’t think there would be a knot headed horse in Blue’s corral.

  Giving a little whistle, I waited for Dog to come crawling out of the brush wearing a few tufts of fur around his muzzle. We’d lost track of him for a bit back along the creek. He couldn’t clear that tall meadow grass like the horses could. But he caught up about halfway up the slope.

  I wasn’t anxious to head down the mountain in the dark, but I was less anxious to wait for ‘em up there. I didn’t know what kind of woodsmen might be part of that bunch, and I wasn’t taking any chances. I didn’t think they’d take a chance of hitting us in the settlement at Rio Quatros. There wasn’t much there except a trading post and a few sheep herding families of the Mexican persuasion. The Mexicans in this area thought highly of Blue because he was a fair man and a good friend of Don Carlos.

  The trip down the south face of the mountain in the dark was an experience that I wasn’t interested in doing again, but we made it by the grace of God and a good horse. I’d admire having a horse like that one, but I couldn’t imagine Ben selling him anymore than that big stallion out there in the pasture. The one that was making him an important man in the horse business.

  It was well past midnight when we rode into Rio Quatros. I went straight to the trading post and knocked on the door. There was no answer so I knocked a little louder. I could see a light flickering somewhere in the back. There were the glowing coals of a dying fire, but they didn’t give any light to speak of.

  Then I heard a smattering of some colorful south of the border language, and the door opened a crack. The mustached lips on the other side of the crack told me in Spanish that they were closed. I just shoved on in, and luckily he was able to keep from landing on his back side.

  “Señor, Ben Blue’s boy has been stolen from his mama, and…”

  “Si.” He said, “We all say many prayers for him.”

  “Well Señor, you can ease up on the prayin’ ‘cause I stole him back.” I pulled the blanket back and showed the boy’s face and curly red h
air. The store keeper crossed himself.

  “My name is Cain,” I told him, “and I just came down that mountain in the dark. And to tell you the truth, Señor, I’m about dead on my feet… so if we could stretch out on the floor by the fire place I’d be willing to pay.” At the mention of coming down the mountain in the dark, he crossed himself again.

  Chapter 5

  I woke up just as the sun was pushing its light into the night sky and turning it gray. Young Andy was still bundled up and looking untroubled and content. But I could hear the Sonora Sosa rattling around in the kitchen. Her husband came through the front door with Dog sneaking in right behind him. Dog moved to the corner and laid down.

  Señor Sosa had some small serapes and a few child sized sombreros, which would fit the boy. I figured he’d be more comfortable riding with those than wrapped in a blanket, so I bought him a new look. He thought he was pretty spiffy in his new duds. Most of the women made clothes for their youngen’s so I couldn’t replace his torn up pants and shirt. I reckoned that Patty Anne and Ben would be pretty happy to see him if he was buck naked and dirty as a squeelin’ piglet.

  We had us a good breakfast, I settled up with Señor Sosa, and we left. The sun was out and the sky was blue as we turned off the Rio Quatros trail and headed for home on the main trail. We were riding the Jake horse, with the buckskin jogging right beside us. It was a fine morning for a homecoming.

  The main north south trail, which ran between the river and the mountains, was sparsely used except for a few ranches up beyond where the river swung to the west. And there was some mining going on up that way, but we had the road all to ourselves. I kept an eye on our back trail, not knowing what that loco bunch would do.

  If they were smart, which they hadn’t shown any signs of yet; they’d cut their losses and head for Colorado or other foreign parts. They’d have to know that they wouldn’t be real popular around this part of the country. But if they continued their stupid ways, I wanted that big outlaw Jake horse under me. With that big boy, I could chase them all the way to Canada.