“Did your ma drop you on your noggin when she was liftin’ you out of your crib? No one has ever taken the Hoodoos by surprise, and no one ever will. They ain’t like ordinary men. They sleep with one eye open. The smallest noise will bring ’em out from under their blankets with their six-guns blazin’.”
“Are you sayin’ it’s impossible?”
“I’m sayin’ if a toad had wings, it wouldn’t bump its butt when it hopped. I’m sayin’ if we had a lick of sense, we’d turn these nags around and light a shuck for Denver while we still can.” Enos held out the bottle, but Charley shook his head. “I don’t much mind committin’ suicide. With my eyes gone, I’m a waste of hide. But what about Missy? She’s young. She’s pretty. She has her whole blamed life ahead of her. It ain’t right to lead her into the valley of the shadow.”
“She made the same choice we did,” Charley said defensively.
“Choice, hell. She’s blinded by the money. The three of you think it’s the answer to your prayers, but all it will buy you is maggots eatin’ your innards. I’m sorry I ever agreed to this egg hunt. Now I’ll have your deaths on my conscience as well as my own.”
“We’re not going to die.”
“Mighty big words for someone who ain’t ever kilt a person. It’s not the same as squashin’ a bug. It sticks in your craw and festers and sores until some nights you wake up screamin’. One of those Blackfeet I shot wasn’t much older than you, and once a month, like clockwork, I see his shocked face and how he reached out to an older Injun who must have been his pa.”
“I thought you hated Indians.”
“What on earth for? The only ones I’m not fond of are the ones who try to lift my hair.” Enos gazed into the distance, but he wasn’t seeing the prairie. “I had me a Crow wife once, but she couldn’t stand my bellyachin’ and went back to her people. I’d take her for my wife again in a split-second if she’d have me, but by now she’s probably got a Crow husband and a passel of younguns more than half-growed.” He shook himself and glanced at Charley. “We’re tiltin’ at windmills, boy. Take my advice. Turn around before it’s too late.”
“Why don’t we put it to a vote?”
“The four of us are a democracy now, is that it?” the buffalo runner had said. “Hell, if that’s the case, let’s squat on this land and claim it as our own country.”
Charley grinned at the recollection and drifted back to ride alongside Melissa. It was her turn to lead the pack horses. “How are you holdin’ up?” At least once a day he asked her that to show how considerate he was.
“This is the happiest I’ve been since the deaths of my parents, and I owe it all to you.”
“Shucks. I haven’t done anything special.” Charley tried not to blush, but it was hopeless.
“This hunt was your idea, so you deserve the credit.” Melissa’s smile was honey and wine mixed. “You’re quite a man, Charley Pickett, and I hope you don’t mind my saying so.”
Charley swore he was going to float right up out of his saddle, he felt so light-headed. She had never complimented him so straightforwardly before, and he couldn’t think of anything better to say than “Thanks.”
Melissa wasn’t done. “One day you’ll make some woman awful happy. Call me a hussy, but I’ll wish it were me.”
Charley’s brain about shut down from shock. She couldn’t be hinting what he thought she was hinting. They hadn’t as much as kissed yet. Several times he had been tempted to plant one on her cheek, but his courage always deserted him. She was looking at him, her eyes wide, as if waiting, but his tongue had turned to lead. He was almost glad when Enos hollered back to them.
“We’ll rein up and rest in those cottonwoods yonder!”
Where there were cottonwoods there was often water, although in this instance they found none. Enos explained it was below ground, and if they dug far enough, they would strike it. But since their waterskins were nearly full, they forewent the effort.
Leaving Enos to nurse a bottle, Charley led Melissa and Tony off about fifty yards. He had collected a few dead limbs, and, breaking them into six-inch lengths, he jammed the pieces into the ground as targets.
“That should do us.” Backing off twenty paces, Charley drew his revolver, aimed carefully, and fired. The stick he had selected burst in half.
“Well done!” Melissa exclaimed, clapping. “You’re getting better and better every day.”
Pride gushed through Charley like hot water from a geyser. “I want to be able to do my part when the time comes.”
Tony was shaking his head and frowning. “Who are we trying to kid, mi amico? Kid Falon could put six bullets into you in the time it took you to shoot once. And I am worse than you.” To demonstrate, he leveled his revolver and fired. The shot kicked up dirt half a foot from the sticks. “See? I am horrible at this. I much prefer my stiletto.”
“My turn,” Melissa said. Her pistol gleamed in the sunlight like a jewel. Spreading her legs wide, she extended both arms and took aim. As always when she was intensely concentrating, the tip of her tongue poked from between her lips. She fired twice. At each blast, a stick dissolved.
Charley whooped and leaped into the air. “Did you see her, Tony? She could be a sharpshooter, this girl!”
“She did well,” Tony conceded. “Just not well enough. Not when our lives are at stake if we lose against the Hoodoos.” He looked at them. “And we will lose.”
Melissa asked, “Why must you always look at the bleak side of things?”
Tony corrected her. “I look at things as they are. Not as I or you or anyone else might wish them to be. In Naples, the city where I was born and raised, there are men much like these Hoodoos. They are called the Camorra. They rob and kill as they please and there is little the polizia or anyone else can do. No one opposes them because to do so is to ask for your last rites.”
“You can’t hardly compare them to the Hoodoos,” Charley commented.
“On the contrary, I can. Oh, the Camorra do not ride horses, and they use shotguns and stilettos instead of rifles and revolvers, but they are just as deadly. Everyone rightly fears them. They go where they please, do what they please. They have no conscience; they show no mercy. A list of those they have killed would be longer than my leg.”
“You carry a stiletto,” Melissa said.
Charley didn’t get what that had to do with anything. His friend wasn’t a cold-hearted killer. “I’m wearing a pistol, but that doesn’t make me an outlaw.”
Tony was staring at Melissa. “You think you know everything. But you are only partly right. Those who join the Camorra must swear a blood oath. An oath that binds them to the Camorra from that day on. They must never betray it, or they forfeit their lives. Nor are they permitted to leave the Camorra if they grow tired of the bloodshed. To protect itself, to keep its secrets, the Camorra assassinates anyone who tries.”
“Why would anyone want to join an outfit like that?” Charley wondered.
“It is a blood bond passed from father to son. A bond that must never be broken, or it brings shame on the heads of the entire family.”
Melissa was giving Tony a strange look. “So it’s impossible to quit once you’re in?”
“Those who want to leave have one choice. To flee the country. To travel as far and as fast as they can and pray the Camorra never learns where they are.” Tony gazed at the surrounding plain. “Even this is not far enough.”
Charley aimed at a stick. “Let’s keep practicing. We need to be ready when we find the Hoodoos.”