Chapter 3

He'd hardly slept at all. His mind just wouldn't let him rest. And once, when he finally did manage to fall into a deep sleep he was awakened by Evangeline's cries for help. She was only having a nightmare, but he'd sat beside her in the light of the camp fire until she'd fallen to sleep again. She had grabbed his hand and had not relinquished her grip on it until sleep had reclaimed her. He didn't think she was even aware she had his hand in a death grip. It was four o'clock in the morning before he laid back down on his own bedroll. And now the breaking dawn was an assault on his senses.

The late September sun was blinding and already hot this early in the morning. And the sound of chirping birds and the rushing stream waters seemed so very loud. Maybe his senses were all just on high alert after yesterday's events. One good thing though. Neither the bright hot sun nor the sounds of the approaching new day were disturbing the girl. It was best if she slept. She was going to need the rest. They had some hard riding ahead of them. He was already a half day behind schedule and he needed to make up time. Besides, he really didn't want to stay in one spot too long and give anymore bandits out there the chance to finish what they'd started or take any revenge on him. It was best if they moved on and soon. Which meant he was going to have to wake her. He knew that waking to face the reality of her situation was the last thing she was going to want to do. But he was responsible for her now, at least until he got her to the sheriff's office in Red Rock, and he had to do what was best for her. And what was best was moving on....now.

He got busy breaking camp. Packing the gear, saddling his horse....making as much noise as possible. He thought waking her that way would be better than rousting her. Frequently glancing sideways from his chores, he finally caught her movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned towards her as she slowly sat up in her bed roll.

"Oh, did I wake you? I'm sorry. Just as well though, 'cause we really need to be moving on."

She squinted her gray eyes against the glaring sun to see the man standing beside his horse, securing his bed roll to the saddle. Did he say they had to be moving on? Well he could go if he wanted to, but she was staying right here. All the memories of yesterday's events flooded her mind. The last thing she remembered was crying herself to sleep in this man's arms. As miserable and wretched as she felt she still felt a little embarrassed at having spent such an intimate moment with a stranger. And a man at that. She couldn't face him or the day. She fell back into the bed roll and turned away from him, closing her eyes to shut out the light of day.

"Oh, no you don't," he mumbled under his breath as he moved towards her. If she didn't get up and face her situation now he was afraid she might not ever get up and then they'd both be in trouble.

He squatted down beside her and touched her shoulder. "Come on, time to get up."

She shifted her shoulder to sever the contact.

"Miss Webb, I know that the last thing you want to do is get up and face what's happened. And believe me I don't blame you for wanting to just lay here and not face it, but the truth is I need to be moving out soon. And I'm not going to leave you here by yourself. My partner is waiting for me in Red Rock and when I'm real late he gets nervous. And when he gets nervous he does stupid things. So to help me and my partner out I need you to get up now. Come on."

No response.

"And there's the man who's paying me to deliver some important documents to him. I've got to get those to him soon or he'll be wondering where I'm at," he continued.

Still no response.

"You know the sooner we get started the sooner we can get you to a hotel room with a soft bed and a hot bath. Doesn't that sound nice? So, come on let's get going."

Still no response.

"My silver tongue must be a might tarnished," he thought to himself. He inhaled slow and deep and then exhaled.

"Miss Webb, your mother wanted you to live. She wanted you to come with me so you could live. Don't let her dying wish be in vain because you wanna stay here and feel sorry for yourself." His voice was firm yet gentle.

That made her mad. Feel sorry for myself? Well, if anybody has a right to feel sorry for theirself it's me. But it didn't rile her enough to get her up. "With all due respect, sir, you have no idea how I feel. How could you?" She practically spat the words out. How dare he presume to know how she felt. Had he lost his family to a gang of brutal murders? Somehow she doubted it. She pulled the blanket up closer around her shoulders as if to punctuate her indignant words.

"I certainly don't mean any disrespect, ma'am, but I think every body's lost somebody they care about. So I do know a little about how you feel." He didn't bother to go into details about the killing of his own family when he was half her age, now wasn't the time for that. "In any case, I'm moving out and your coming with me. I promised your ma I'd take care of you and I intend to keep that promise."

"I don't want to go anywhere right now. Don't you understand that? Don't you have any feelings or sympathy at all?" She waited to hear some words of comfort and care from him but when they didn't come she said, " If you want to go, then go."

Now he was a little bit peeved. He sympathized with her more than any other human in the world could. But he shoved his anger aside, remembering that her loss was like a fresh open wound and his had long since become a hardened scar.

So she didn't want to go anywhere, huh? He was pretty sure he could change her mind. He didn't want to but It looked like he was going to have to resort to desperate measures.

"Well, I guess you've made up your mind then. I ain't gonna force you to go with me. So I guess I'll just be heading on out then. I'll leave you enough grub to last you a couple of days. If you eat once a day that is." He dug into his saddle bag and laid her some meager rations by the fire. " And I wouldn't let that fire go out, because in wilderness like this, a fire's about the only thing keeping hungry coyotes away." He turned back to his horse and made like he was about to mount. He expected her to stop him. She didn't. "Oh, and here." He took the rifle from his saddle. He walked back to her and crouched beside her, and reaching across her laid the weapon in front of her. "In case, those men come back. Now there's only two bullets left, so if they do come back and there's more than two of them.....well, you can decide what you'd rather do, but if I was you, a young beautiful woman, I wouldn't want to be taken alive by the likes of them." He rose and slowly made his way back towards his horse. "It's been a pleasure, ma'am. Good luck to you."

Did he think she was stupid? She knew a bluff when she heard one. And not a very good bluff at that. He wouldn't leave her out here alone. I'll just call your bluff, mister. I can lay here as long as I need to. You won't leave. Her head snapped up quick as a rattle snake strike, when she heard the sound of hooves on the hard dry ground. She got to her feet and stood disbelieving as she watched the man trot off on the back of his sorrel stallion. Panic threatened to overcome her as she faced the possibility of being out in this wilderness alone, with those men on her tail.

"Wait!"

He pulled rein bringing the magnificent beast he rode to a halt. A self congratulatory smile crossed his face before he turned the chestnut and walked him back the fifty feet to where she stood. "Yes?" he inquired in a nonchalant tone.

"I...I'll go with you." She said sheepishly, afraid to look him in the eye.

He knew he had scared her, but he also knew it had been necessary. And besides she should be scared. He had never witnessed such callous disregard for life as when he'd witnessed what that gang had done to her family. He dismounted and came to stand in front of her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. When he searched for eyes and didn't find them, he placed a gentle hand under chin and forced her to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry I had to scare you like that, but everything I said is a real possibility. Those men could be out there hunting us down as we speak. If we're going to make it off this trail in one piece, we need to keep moving at a good pace. You understand?"

She did understand, all too well. Those men were probably out there and their lives were in danger. And instead of helping the man who had saved her life, she was making things more difficult for him by acting like a spoiled brat. She had suffered a horrible tragedy and she did feel like crawling into a hole, but she also knew that this man had not asked to be put in this situation. And he didn't deserve to be burdened by a childish ninny. Her foolishness could get them both killed. She spoke softly never taking her eyes off his, "Yes I understand. I'll have to take the time to feel sorry for myself once we've gotten safely off this trail."

"Good girl. Now let's go down to the creek and get you washed up and changed. I brought you a change of clothes."

Until that moment she hadn't given any thought to how she must look. She looked down at her green skirt and white blouse. Both were covered with filth. She ran a hand across her face and through her hair. Her face felt gritty and dry, her hair felt matted with dirt and grass. She must look a fright. And she probably smelled even worse. He on the other looked like he had washed, shaved and changed into a clean shirt. For some absurd reason, it made her feel self conscious of her appearance.

"I brought you these to put on so it'll be easier for you to ride." She looked down at the towel, soap and bundle of clothes he held out to her. It was a pair of her brother's britches and one of his shirts, and a pair of socks. Tears welled up in her eyes. Poor, sweet Gabe. Her little brother was gone. She'd never hear his voice again. See his face again. She took the clothes from him and followed him silently to the creek, trying hard not to cry uncontrollably.

"I'll just wait over here while you get changed." He walked over to a large elm tree and leaned against it with his back to her to give her some privacy and still keep an eye out for trouble.

"I sure hope you know how to ride, Miss Webb. It'll sure make things a lot easier." He waited for her response. When none came he continued. "But if not we'll figure something out. I'm pretty handy on horseback and Thaddeus tells me I've got a way with animals. He says I could ride a cow and make it look like I belonged there." He smiled remembering Kid's words. "And I wasn't kidding about what I said. Those men can gain on us easy if they're really following us. We need to keep moving. That means alot of hours in the saddle. I hope your up to it. And I hope those clothes fit you. A lot easier to ride in britches than a dress. I did grab a couple of dresses too. I guess they were yours. Have you tried those britches on yet?"

When she still didn't respond he became concerned. "You alright?" he inquired over his shoulder. Finally when she still didn't answer, he cautioned a glance over his shoulder afraid he might find her in any of various stages of undress. Instead he saw her on her knees on the creek's edge still wearing the dirty green skirt and blouse, sobbing into the clothes that had been her brothers. He knew that her tough talk earlier had been just that, talk. He also knew that these bouts of crying and mourning were necessary. And he knew this one probably wasn't going to be the last. He went to her and knelt beside her.

"Oh, God, why did this happen? What am I supposed to do? I don't understand. I don't blame you if you want to leave me here. Just leave me here to die." She was babbling hysterically. He had expected it sooner or later.

He must be getting better at this damsel in distress stuff because without hesitating he pulled her into his embrace. She again cried onto his shoulder until there were no more tears, while he held her and reassured her that he wasn't leaving her anywhere and that they were in this together now. His deep voice had a lulling effect on her. It seemed to make her feel better.

"Did you bury them at least?" she choked out on a sob.

"Yes. I buried them and put markers up too."

Something inside her shifted in that moment. The naivety of girlhood had come to an end. It was time to grow up. Life as she had known it was over. What her future held she did not know. His words a few moments ago and the way he'd comforted her last night led her to believe that maybe he did know something about the loss of a loved one and being on his own. All her instincts told her she could trust him. Her mother had trusted him with her daughter. And so would she. And even if she didn't completely trust him, what choice did she have but to go with him. She was alone now. And her situation was desperate. "Desperate times call for desperate measures" her mama had always said. Neither her father nor her mother would have wanted her to sit here like a blithering lump and wait around for those bastards to find her again. No, they would want her to be brave and fight to stay alive. As much as she felt like dying, she knew this man was right. Her mother had wanted her to live. She wouldn't let her family's death be in vain. She would do her best to survive. And so she gathered up every ounce of courage she could and she released herself from his arms and stood. "I'll get changed then. And we can go."

"Alright."

"Mr.......uuummm, I'm sorry, I don't remember your name," she said as she wiped her swollen eyes and runny nose with the damp wash cloth.

"Joshua. Joshua Smith." He smiled and offered her his hand.

"Evangeline Ruth Webb." She took his hand, noticing how small hers felt when his very masculine one enveloped hers.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am," he said as he tipped his hat.

"Mr. Smith, I'm sorry. I've been very rude to you this morning. And I'm sorry I pulled that gun on you last night. I wasn't sure what was going on and I didn't know if I could trust you."

"In a situation like the one we're in right now, we've got to trust each other."

"I do trust you. And I'm going to do my best to not be a burden to you, but help you get us safely to your friend in....was it Red Rock?"

"Yes. But we have to go to Alpine first on important business. That's the only reason I happen to be on this trail." He paused for a moment and once again put his hand under her chin to bring her eyes up to meet his. "If you trust me then I have to ask you to do me a favor."

"All right," she said hesitantly.

"I need you to do exactly as I say, when I say. Our lives may depend on it. Surviving out in this kind of wilderness isn't easy. You understand?"

She merely nodded. His gaze was so intense it was hard for her to form words. He seemed to be conveying words with his eyes. Eyes that were a warm liquid brown she noticed. They reminded her of the warm sorghum that her mama used to put on her biscuits. "I'll do exactly as you say, when you say," she managed to repeat. His eyes were telling her it would be even harder to survive in this kind of wilderness with a gang of murderers on their tail.

He smiled at her then, "Good. Now let's get you changed and in the saddle."

"Mr. Smith? The Bible...my family's Bible that you were reading last night...may I have it please?

"Sure. I'll go get it for you."

After having given her enough time to change, he returned to where she was and handed her the Bible. She looked at it then held it to her breast for a moment. Then she opened the well worn cover and flipped the pages until she came to the verse she was looking for. Heyes respectfully removed his hat as she began to read aloud:

Isaiah 611The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;
2To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn;
3To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.


Then she prayed. She asked God to protect them as they traveled and provide for them as He

saw fit. Heyes hadn't done much talking to The Man upstairs since he was a kid at the home. But he admired anybody who could go through what she had and still want to ask God for favors instead of blame Him.

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Now this was the life, Kid Curry thought to himself. It was a hot day here in Red Rock, but he didn't mind. He was nice and comfy here in the rocker on the shaded front porch of Big Mac's ranch house. He had arrived on the train last night and had delivered Mac's art pieces here by wagon. Now with his feet propped on the railing, a cigar in one hand, a tall glass of cold lemonade in the other, he couldn't ask for anything better. Well, not unless Heyes could be here with him. He'd felt kind of bad about riding in luxury on that train, knowing that Heyes would be riding through the hot West Texas mountains. In fact he'd almost offered to trade places with him at the last minute, but Heyes had insisted that he was kind of looking forward to some time alone, out in the middle of nowhere.

Heyes had always been like that. Drawing inside of himself sometimes. Needing to be alone with his thoughts. Kid never really knew what was going on in that nimble brain of his when he got that way. But he was always soon after, the same old Heyes again. Funny, charming, outgoing and above all the only person in the world the Kid could trust. It bothered Kid sometimes that Heyes felt so responsible for him. He recalled the first few days after their folks had been killed, a young Hannibal putting his arm around a smaller Jed's shoulder everywhere they went. "Stay close to me, Jed. I'll take care of you." And he always had. Jed had always relied on Hannibal for the answers. And Hannibal had always provided them. He supposed that's why he'd been so determined as a kid to be the best he could with his gun. So he could protect the only person he truly had left in this world. The only person he really loved and who loved him back. Each would be lost without the other and they knew it. "Nothing bad will happen as long as we're together." That's what they used to say to each other when they were kids. Only now they weren't together.

"You better make it back in one piece, Heyes. Or else I'll have to kill ya," he said out loud to himself. He wasn't really worried though. He had never met a human being who could navigate tricky terrain on horseback like Hannibal Heyes. That was another reason they decided it was better for Heyes to make the trip on horseback. He could make much better time than Kid. And it wasn't likely that he'd run into any body to give him any trouble. Supposedly, very few people if any traveled along that trail. And though Heyes was never the fast draw and perfect aim he himself was, he knew Heyes could handle a gun and shoot better than most men. In fact there wasn't anybody else he'd want defending him if he couldn't defend himself. He expected to receive a telegraph from Heyes in a couple of days saying he'd arrived safely in Alpine. Until then he'd just enjoy being the welcome house guest of Mr. Pat McCreedy. "I wonder what's for supper?" he thought to himself. Then he covered his eyes with his hat and drifted off to sleep.