Wicked Wyoming Nights (44 page)

“I’m sorry to bother you” Eliza said when Ira had gone, “but Uncle and Mr. Blaine are worried the men at the saloon are drinking too heavily to be trusted in all this excitement.”

“He might have something there, but not enough to drag you away from your own bed.”

“Where is this place they’re talking about?” Eliza inquired as innocently as she could. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”

“Probably not. It’s about twenty-five miles south of here.”

“Is it anywhere near the Matador?”

“No,” Ella replied with a smile. “You know where the road out of town divides and the west fork leads past the Matador?” Eliza nodded. “Well, if you were to keep on the south fork another ten miles and then turn off to the left at the base of the red butte, you’d come across the Bar-T about five miles farther on.”

“So they don’t have any reason to go near the Matador?” Eliza asked.

“None at all. Now you stop worrying and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back as soon as I can. But with people rushing in to buy everything they can lay their hands on, it may be a while.”

“Don’t hurry on my account. I don’t have to sing, so I can do anything I like. I might even take a nap.”

Ella must have had even more on her mind than Ira, or she would have realized Eliza hadn’t been up more than a few hours and couldn’t possibly need a nap, especially since there would be no need to stay up late. But she pushed the whole thing out of her mind and hurried back to the store, worried over what this latest piece of violence would mean to the people of Buffalo.

Eliza waited just long enough to be sure Ella wouldn’t come back. She knew she couldn’t go to the livery stable without being seen, nor could she take the buggy without Croley or her father hearing about it before she got out of town. She was going to have to take one of the Baylis’s horses, and she was going to have to ride rather than drive. That made her more than a little nervous, but this was no time to quibble. She would warn Cord if she had to ride bareback, and if she didn’t hurry Croley and Ira might get there first.

Eliza hurried from the house and down, to the barn where the Baylis’s horses were stabled. Very few people kept their own horses in town, but the store had so many shipments to send out it was easier to maintain their own teams than rent from the livery stable. “No point in making Chet Hadley rich out of my own pocket,” Ed Baylis always said.

Eliza was dismayed to discover that not only did Ed Baylis use mules instead of horses to draw his wagons, they were not unattended; a lad of about sixteen leaned against the barn watching the half-dozen sturdy beasts in the corral. But Eliza didn’t have time to look for another conveyance or wait until he went home. She pulled the broad-rimmed straw hat farther down over her face in hopes he wouldn’t recognize her, and walked up to him with an air of feigned confidence.

“I have an urgent errand to run for Mrs. Baylis,” she told the boy, trying to make her voice sound like it was giving a command rather than asking for a favor. “Pick out the gentlest mule and saddle it for me.”

“These mules ain’t exactly used to being saddled, ma’am,” the boy said politely. “They ain’t never been hitched to anything but a wagon that I know of.”

“I don’t have time to take a wagon,” she insisted impatiently. “I must have one saddled as soon as possible.”

“Maybe you ought to borrow Mr. Ed’s saddle horse.”

“Where is it?”

“Up at the store. He likes to have it handy in case he has to go out sudden. It frets him to have to send a boy to tell me and then wait while I saddle it up.”

“Then he won’t want me to use it. I may not get back for some time yet.”

“I don’t know about these mules,” the boy said, hesitating. “They can be real ornery critters.”

“Please hurry,” Eliza almost shouted. “I can’t wait forever.”

“Okay,” the boy said, taking a saddle off the wall. “I’ll saddle that old jennet. She won’t be very quick, but maybe she won’t leave you in a draw either.” The chosen animal did not regard the proceedings with a kind eye, but she did allow the saddle to be placed on her back.

“Maybe I’d better sit on her first, just in case,” the boy offered. Eliza was profoundly thankful he did, for the animal threw back her head, delivered herself of a shattering heehaw, and proceeded to tear around the corral as fast as her legs would carry her, running into any animal that happened to be in her path and lashing out with her heels for good measure. Then just as suddenly as she started, she stopped and walked placidly toward the fence. The boy got down, opened up the gate, and lead the now-quiet beast over to Eliza.

“She’s okay now, ma ‘am. She just had a few fidgets to work out first.”

“Thank you,” Eliza said faintly, and allowed the boy to help her into the saddle, She fully expected to be sent sailing through the cold, clean air, but the jennet stood quietly, and then set off at a trot that threatened to rattle loose every bone in Eliza’s body.

Yet Eliza felt better than she had for a long time. After weeks of indecision, it was a relief to have made up her mind about something, but she was tortured by the fear she might not arrive in time, or if she did, Cord might not still think well enough of her to heed her warning. Even worse, he might think she was acting with her uncle against him. And why shouldn’t he? Hadn’t she sided with Ira against him several times already?

No one besides Lucy and Ella knew of the months of anguish she had endured, the sleepless nights, the torturing doubt that never for one minute ceased to act upon her tender self-esteem like a corrosive acid, drop by scalding drop scarring her soul forever. No, her pride had forced her to keep this agonizing indecision to herself, to shield from Cord the only information which might have redeemed her in his eyes. She didn’t care what anyone else might believe. They could think her the most heartless and capricious female in existence if only Cord would trust her once again, would open his arms to shelter her, would open his heart to give her sanctuary. Secure in the embrace of his love, she could and would endure anything, face anything, dare anything. Without it? Well, there wasn’t much she could think of that mattered at all.

Eliza thought the trip would never end. For hours she saw no one at all, but after she turned away from the fork leading to the Matador, she was met and passed by several men, all heading toward the Bar-T Ranch. She kept her head low and answered any greeting with a shake or nod of her head, and the riders rode on, their horses quickly outdistancing her mount.

Long before she could see the ranch buildings, Eliza heard the sounds of sporadic gunfire coming over the hills. There was nothing to stop the sound, and it rolled on for miles, teasing her into thinking she was much closer than she was.

When she at last came upon the scene she was nonplussed. There were men everywhere, hundreds of them, everyone armed and everyone firing into the small ranch house in the distance. Eliza rode around to the other side, but the cordon of men offered no break, no opening she could get through, and she ended up right back where she started, unable to get through to the man she now realized she loved above, all loyalties and allegiances. In desperation, she approached a young man she had never seen before, hoping he’d never seen her either.

“I have to speak to someone inside that house,” she said as the flabbergasted young man gaped to find himself face to face with a stunning beauty in the middle of a range war. “Can you ask them to stop shooting long enough for me to go in?” The poor man tried to gather his shattered wits.

“Go in there?” he echoed, aghast. “That’d be sure death. We’ve got these killers surrounded. Not a single one of them is going to get away.”

Eliza’s throat closed. “But you’ve got one man in there by mistake.”

“Ain’t nobody there by mistake, ma’am, and nobody’s getting out. There’s over two hundred men with rifles aimed at the house, and there’ll be another hundred or so before this time tomorrow.”

“But I’ve got to warn him,” Eliza insisted. She tried to move past the young man, but he pulled her back. Eliza’s hat fell off, revealing the full extent of her beauty, and he was so shocked he nearly let her go.

“You can’t go in there” he stammered.

“But he’ll be killed,” Eliza groaned, near hysterics.

“Nobody’s going to get killed unless they do something foolish. We’re just holding them here until the sheriff can decide what to do with them. He’s still over at the Lazy C.” He cast an eye in the direction of some of the men. “He’d better get here soon, though. Some of the boys are so riled up they might Dot remember when to stop.”

“But they
are
going to kill him. I heard them talking about blowing them up with dynamite.”

“They can’t do nothing like that. Even if they had the sticks, there isn’t a man alive that could heave it that far.”

“You’ve got to let me go,” Eliza said, her voice breaking with sobs. “My fiancé’s in there, and I’ve got to get him out.”

“A nice lady like you can’t be engaged to any of those rascals.”

“I told you, he was in there by mistake.”

“How?” he demanded, looking older than his few years. “Who could come to be in there by mistake?”

“Cord Stedman,” she said at last. “I don’t know how he came to be here, but I’ve got to talk to him.”

“I thought I knew you. You’re Belle Sage,” he said, pleased at his feat of memory. “But I heard tell you and him busted up.”

“That was all a mistake,” Eliza answered, becoming more frantic by the minute.

“You can relax, ma’am. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Relax? You don’t know my uncle’s friends. They’re on their way here right now. I know, because I heard them.”

“That’s as may be, but they ain’t going to do Cord Stedman any harm, no matter what they do.”

“But who’s going to stop them?”

“Nobody.” He could see that Eliza was coming dangerously close to the end of her rope. “Cord Stedman ain’t anywhere near here. As far as I know, he’s at the Matador getting ready to set down to his supper. Something I could do with a little of myself. It’s been a long day.”

“Are you sure?” she demanded, miraculously revived. “I’ve got to know for sure”

“I don’t know for sure he’s setting down to supper, but I do know he ain’t here, because I asked him to come and he said he wouldn’t.”

“Where did you see him? When was it?”

“Sometime this morning when I rode by his place. I told him what was happening and asked him to come help. He said he’d help us round up our cattle, but he wanted no part of people taking shots at each other like it was a turkey shoot.”

“How do I get to the Matador?”

“You go back along the road until you come to the fork going west.”

“That’s nearly twenty miles. Isn’t there a shorter way?”

“You could go over those hills, but there’s no track to follow, and it’s real easy to get lost.”

“I’ll chance it.” The boy continued to protest, but when he saw that Eliza was determined, he gave in and described the route as carefully as he could. Eliza was so impatient to be on her way she had difficulty paying attention, but he made her repeat the directions, and wouldn’t let her go until he was satisfied she knew them by memory.

“You tell him he’s better off staying at home,” the young man called after her. “I wish to he’ll I’d done the same.”

Eliza set off, urging her reluctant mount into a canter. The sun was getting low, turning the endless sky brilliant shades of orange and purple, but its beauty was lost on Eliza. All she could think of was reaching Cord as soon as possible. The flood of relief that swept over her when she learned he was still at the Matador had washed away all of her doubt, and she could hardly wait to see him, to throw herself in his arms and pour out all the love that had been stored up inside her like water behind a dam.

She followed the light track until she came to a shallow creek. At that point the trail turned abruptly south and Eliza struck out over the hills, looking for the landmarks so carefully described by the young man and trying to keep herself pointed directly into the setting sun.

But Eliza soon discovered that every hill, rise, or gully looked the same to her, and even when she had to go hundreds of yards out of her way to go around some obstacle, she still seemed to be heading directly into the sun. She tried in vain to decide whether she had passed the dip with the twenty-degree rise, or whether it was still ahead. She kept urging her tired mount on, but the poor beast had traveled over thirty miles and was rapidly nearing exhaustion.

At last the jennet stopped and Eliza didn’t try to force her to go on. She studied the landscape for anything resembling the landmarks the young man described, but could see nothing besides endless hills, each exactly like the other. A coyote howled in the distance and chills ran down her spine; she was completely lost, her mount was exhausted, and she had no idea how to survive a night on the open plains.

Chapter 33

Eliza slid off the jennet. There was still another hour of sunlight, enough time to make one last attempt to find the road. She chose the highest hill and began walking toward it. The jennet followed willingly enough when it discovered it didn’t have to carry its human burden. The climb was long and tiring, but the view from the summit was truly magnificent, and for a moment Eliza forgot her fear in awe of the panorama of the open plain all around her. Rolling hills, turned blue by the evening dusk, stretched before her as far as she could see, and scattered cows grazed contentedly, unmindful of the coming night or the cold that caused Eliza to shiver.