Devil's Canyon (7 page)

“Well, I think they were,” said Odessa, “and I'm of a mind to double back and see how far it was they left the trail.”

“Oh, come on,” Mamie said. “Don't go looking for trouble. God knows, there's always enough, without scratching and digging for more.”

They rode on as Slade and his companions looked at one another in wonder.

“Who in hell are
they?
” Kritzer wondered.

“That pair of females looks tough enough to go huntin' cougars with a switch,” said Withers.

“Yeah,” Peeler said, “and they been trackin' us. At least, one of 'em has.”

“By God,” said Hindes, “I never seen a female whose tongue wasn't thonged down in the middle and loose at both ends. When they catch up to them wagons, you think that nosy old pelican won't tell them teamsters they're bein' trailed?”

“Maybe not,” Slade said. “You heard her. She didn't notice where we rode off, and up ahead they won't find our tracks.”

“I purely don't like bein' bogged down in somethin' I don't understand,” said Kritzer. “Where does these two fit in, and why are they followin' them wagons?”

“God,” Withers said, “they was carryin' tied-down pistols, with rifles in their saddle boots. I never seen a woman carry that much artillery.”

“I'd bet my horse and saddle they can use it, too,” said Peeler.

“We'll go on,” Slade said, “and I reckon we'll find out what business they got with them wagons.”

“Don't none of you forget,” said Hindes. “There's always the Utes.”

The trail west. August 5, 1870
.

The night had passed uneventfully, and following a hurried breakfast, the wagons took the trail. The terrain had grown progressively rougher, and teams crept along slowly as teamsters sought to avoid drop-offs and large stones that might crack, allowing the full weight of the wagon to lurch against a single wheel. But before the caravan had been on the trail an hour, there came that sound they all dreaded: the sickening, shattering crunch of a ruined wagon wheel.

“Well, by God, that don't come as no surprise,” said Tarno Spangler as he swung down from his wagon box.

Durham's wagon reared back in an unnatural position, for nothing remained of the left rear wheel except the hub with its shattered spokes. Durham still sat on the wagon box, the reins in his hand.

“Get down,” Shanghai said in disgust. “We ain't jackin' the wagon up with you settin' on it.”

Faro was looking at the huge stone over which the broken wheel had tried to cross. The stone had rolled, allowing the wheel to slide off and slam into the solid rock beneath it.

“Durham,” said Faro, “this could have been avoided. There was room for that wheel to pass without even touching the stone that caused the break. Were you asleep?”

Durham had climbed down from the wagon box, and he faced Faro defiantly.

“Hell, I can't see every rut and rock in the trail,” he snarled.

Faro's patience had run out. He brought his right all the way up from his boot tops, and his fist slammed against Durham's chin. The gambler's feet left the ground and he hit the rocky ground on his back. He sat up, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

“When you take the reins,” Faro said grimly, “it's your responsibility as a teamster to see every rut and rock in the trail. Now get up. You have work to do.”

Tarno and Dallas removed the spare wheel and wagon jack from Durham's wagon.

“Remarkable insight, loading the spare wheel and the jack behind the freight,” Collins observed.

“It's the first and most important thing a teamster learns,” said Faro. “To do otherwise would be like slidin' your Winchester into the saddle boot empty, and lockin' all your shells away in a trunk.”

To Durham fell the dubious honor of jacking up the sagging rear of the wagon. With a huge hub wrench created for that purpose, Faro broke loose the hub of the shattered wheel and removed it. Within an hour, the wagon was again ready for the trail. Durham had already mounted his wagon box when the two riders appeared. Every man had paused, his hand near the butt of his revolver, but they all relaxed when it became obvious
their visitors were women. Durham dropped the reins and was about to leap from the box when Odessa McCutcheon spoke.

“Mr. Durham, you just stay right where you are, so's we can keep an eye on you. Slide down off that box, and I'll part your hair with a slug.”

“Ma'am,” said Faro, “since you obviously have an interest in Durham, I reckon you'd better tell the rest of us who you are, and what you want.”

“We're the McCutcheons, from Amarillo, Texas. Mr. Durham, here, took a thousand dollars from us. He was to buy a team of horses, a buckboard, and take us with him to California.”

“He compromised our honor,” said Mamie, “and then sneaked off without us.”

Shanghai, Tarno, and Dallas had been watching Durham's face, and could control their mirth no longer. Slapping their thighs, they howled with laughter. Faro was distracted for a moment by the outrageous conduct of his companions, and that was almost enough. Hal Durham had drawn his Colt from beneath his coat when, with a suddenness that surprised them all, Odessa McCutcheon drew her Colt and fired. The slug slammed into Durham's right shoulder, and his weapon clattered to the wagon box.

“Damn you,” Durham shouted, clutching his wounded shoulder.

“Get down,” said Faro, “and take off your coat and shirt. I reckon we'll have to patch you up, since these ladies seem to have plans for you.”

“While that's being done,” Collins said, “I believe we should establish the ownership of this wagon and
these mules. After all, there's a fifth of my goods in the wagon. Ladies, I am Levi Collins. These teamsters are Faro Duval, Shanghai Taylor, Tarno Spangler, and Dallas Weaver.”

“I'm Odessa McCutcheon, and this is my sister, Mamie. We've told you all that we…all that's decent…to tell. Has this skunk took any money from you for the wagon and the mules?”

“No,” said Collins. “He offered us the use of the wagon and mules for as far as we'll be going, in return for enough supplies to take him on to California.”

“In Santa Fe, we were told the territory between here and California is very rough, and inhabited by hostile Indians,” Mamie said. “Do you believe it's possible for a wagon to get through?”

“I understand it's twelve hundred miles,” said Collins, “and we're only going the first five hundred. A good teamster, taking his time, can get that far. Beyond that, I can't say.”

“Mamie and me kind of like the idea of goin' on to California,” Odessa said. “Will you make us the same offer of supplies to California, for use of the wagon and teams as far as you aim to go?”

“Yes,” said Collins, “and gladly. We were desperate for another wagon. Will you be taking Mr. Durham with you?”

“I wouldn't take them to a dogfight if they was guests of honor,” Durham shouted.

“Durham,” said Dallas, “you shut your mouth, or I'll leave your damn wound open and bleeding.”

“Mr. Durham promised us a trip to California,” Odessa said, “and I think it only fair that he honor that
promise. God knows, he hasn't honored anything else.”

“Yes,” said Mamie, “he should be an experienced teamster by the time your freight is unloaded from the wagon. Then Mr. Durham can take it on to California, and us with it.”

“After all you've been through,” Collins said, “you'd trust him not to do you harm?”

“We don't trust him as far as we'd trust a sand rattler,” said Odessa. “He can't do a thing to us he ain't done before, and the difference is, this time, he won't get any help from us. One bad move, and we'll leave the varmint hog-tied upside down over a slow fire.”

Faro laughed. “I do believe the ladies can take care of themselves.”

“The deal's off, Collins,” Durham snarled. “I ain't takin' this damn team and wagon no farther. Especially not to California.”

“You made a deal, Durham,” said Faro, “and we're holding you to it. In return for your services, you'll be allowed enough supplies to get you to California. Whether or not you choose to go is entirely up to you.”

“We'll pay our way for as long as we're with you,” Mamie offered. “We can do all the cooking.”

“Yes,” said Odessa. “In Texas, we cooked for cow camps during branding.”

“I can't speak for anybody but me,” Dallas said, “but that's music to my ears.”

“Yes,” shouted Shanghai and Tarno, in a single voice.

“I won't say no to that,” said Faro, “but this promises
to be a long, hard ride. Could be especially rough on you ladies.”

“Then don't
think
of us as ladies,” Odessa said. “We grew up in Texas, with cowboys and bull whackers. There ain't nothin' any of you can say or do that we ain't heard said or seen done a dozen times.”

“There are hostile Ute Indians,” said Collins.

“No matter,” Odessa said. “Are they worse than hostile Comanches?”

“I doubt it,” said Faro. “Collins, I think they're as well equipped for this trail as any of us. The two of you have rifles in your saddle boots. Can you hit what you're shootin' at?”

“Anything crawlin', walkin', runnin', or flyin',” Odessa said. “Need some proof?”

“I don't think so,” said Faro. “Your word's good enough for me.”

Dallas had bandaged Durham's wound, and was helping him into his shirt and coat. The gambler's ears perked up when Odessa spoke to Faro.

“We found somethin' that might interest you. For a good long ways, four horsemen was following you. Maybe half a dozen miles back, they veered off, and we didn't see their tracks again.”

“We don't
know
they were following you,” Mamie said. “Odessa
thinks
they were.”

“I was through here a week ago, riding to Santa Fe,” said Collins, “and there wasn't a sign of a track. This isn't the kind of country men travel without some definite purpose.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Faro added. “Collins, when we move out tomorrow, I'd like for you
to take my wagon for a while. I'd better have a look at our back trail. All of you back to your wagons. We're moving out.”

“I can't handle the teams with a hurt arm,” said Durham.

“Then get off the box and get on your horse,” Odessa said. “I'll take over the wagon and teams, but I refuse to ride the box with you.”

The men watched with considerable amusement as Durham climbed down from the box and untied his horse from behind the wagon. Odessa climbed to the box, took the reins, and clucked to the teams.

“A remarkable woman,” said Collins. “Mamie, are you as adept as Odessa?”

“Of course I am,” Mamie said, “but don't tell her.”

*   *   *

“The rest of you hang back here for a while,” Slade said, after the McCutcheon sisters had ridden on. “Them females is bound to catch up to the wagons, and when they do, I aim to be close enough to see what happens. I'd like to know how they fit into all this.”

Slade rode up to a higher elevation from which he could see the river without being seen. He then followed the ridge, but before he could see the wagons, he heard a shot. He kicked his horse into a fast gallop, and by the time he could see the wagons, Durham was removing his coat. Even from a distance, Slade could see the bloodstain on the shoulder of the gambler's white shirt.

“Damn him,” Slade said under his breath. “Done some fool thing, got himself plugged, and likely learned nothin'.”

While Slade couldn't hear the words, all the activity below was sufficient to hold his attention. He watched Dallas attend to Durham's wound and saw him again climb up to the wagon box. Finally, there was another exchange of words, and Durham was replaced on the wagon box by one of the newly arrived women. The wagons again took the trail, and on his horse, Durham followed the fifth wagon. Shaking his head, Slade rode back to join his impatient companions, uncertain as to what he should tell them.

*   *   *

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and even with the time lost replacing a wheel on Durham's wagon, Faro estimated they had covered almost twenty miles. At first, he'd had his doubts about Odessa McCutcheon's ability to handle the teams, but Odessa had proven herself as adept as any man. Moreover, when they reined up at the end of the day, Odessa was the first to have her teams unharnessed. While she was so involved, Mamie got a supper fire started. Shanghai, Tarno, and Dallas happily pointed out the locations of the food, the two coffeepots, and other utensils. The lot of them watched in amazement as Mamie and Odessa prepared supper in record time.

“And to think,” Dallas said, “if it wasn't for Durham, we'd still be doin' all our own cooking.”

“Yeah,” said Tarno, “life's a mixed blessing. The same rain that makes a man's crops grow turns into a flood and washes 'em all to hell and gone.”

“Changin' the subject,” Shanghai said, “I reckon it'll be easier on the ladies if they're both on the first watch.”

“You ungrateful varmint,” said Dallas, “why should they stand watch at all? Odessa's on the wagon box, likely from now on, and they're doin' all the cooking. You want they should tuck you in?”

“That would be nice,” Shanghai said. “I reckon they done considerably more than that for Durham, the no-account bastard.”

“No more such talk,” said Faro, who had been listening. “You don't discuss a lady's reputation, no matter what you've heard or suspect.”

“Nothin' bad intended,” Shanghai replied. “I'd be some flattered if either of 'em would look at me twice.”