Fargo was off the Ovaro before it stopped moving. The structure was a shambles, the limbs and brush in bits and pieces. So were many of the articles that had been in it.
“No, no, no, no,” Moose said, moving amid the ruin in a daze.
“Fargo!” Wendy called. “Over here.” He was on a knee by the charred vestige of their fire. “Look at this.”
Partially burned logs were scattered about. A gouge in the earth explained why.
“It looks as if the ruddy bear attacked the fire,” Wendy marveled.
Fargo turned to the Blackfeet. “We need your help. The woman and her children are missing.”
Bird Rattler grunted and translated for his friends and the three spread out.
Fargo took only a couple of steps when fingers like iron spikes clamped onto his arm.
“Where are they?” Moose cried.
“Their horses are gone. It could be they escaped.”
Moose didn’t seem to hear him. His fingers dug deeper. “If anything has happened to them I won’t ever forgive myself. I should never have went with you.”
“We should help the others look.”
“I didn’t want to go,” Moose said. “You heard me. I was against it but she made me.”
“Moose, listen—” Fargo said, but the big bear hunter turned and ran off in erratic circles bawling Cecelia’s name. Fargo went to where the horses had been. The ground was churned by their hooves. He was moving toward the stream when light flared and flames crackled. “Bring a brand,” he hollered, and Wendy jogged to join him.
“Anything, mate?”
“Not yet.”
“Our big friend is beside himself,” Wendy said, nodding at Moose, who was at the other end of the meadow, continuing to bellow. “Can’t say as I blame him. I’d be worried sick if it was my woman. Do we go off into the woods after them?”
Rubbing his beard, Fargo debated. Tracking at night was a painstaking chore. Even with torches, it took forever. Plus their horses were worn out and they weren’t much better off. As much as he disliked to say it, he did. “We wait until first light.”
“That’s the smart thing,” Wendy agreed. “But I predict you-know-who won’t like it.”
Moose didn’t. “Why are you two standing here?” he demanded when he stopped running and shouting and came to the fire. “We have to keep looking. All night, if need be.”
“No,” Fargo said.
Moose had turned but stopped. “What the hell do you mean, no? Cecelia and her kids are out there somewhere and they need us.”
“They could be anywhere,” Fargo said. “It’s no good for us to blunder around in the dark.”
“We’ll yell a lot. They’re bound to hear us.”
“So will the bears.”
“No. We’re doing it and I won’t hear no argument.”
“Use your head,” Fargo said.
“I’ll use something,” Moose angrily retorted. Setting his rifle down, he cocked his fists.
Fargo backpedaled. A jab clipped his jaw. A straight arm brushed his shoulder. He blocked an overhand to the face. The force, though, sent him staggering. He recovered, heard Wendy holler, and Moose was on him. Knuckles the size of walnuts grazed his head and his hat went flying. Planting himself, he rammed a hard right to Moose’s gut and whipped an uppercut to Moose’s jaw. All Moose did was blink. Fargo dodged a clumsy hook and retaliated with a flurry that should have set Moose back on his heels. Moose absorbed the punishment like a sponge.
“Stop this fight this instant!” Wendy shouted while trying to step between them.
“Butt out!” Moose roared, and gave the Brit a shove that sent Wendy sprawling.
“Calm down!” Fargo tried, and a fist arced at his face. Ducking, he flicked a right cross. He might as well have hit solid rock.
Moose paused, his face twisted in fury. “Are you going to help hunt for her or not?”
“At daybreak.”
“You can’t get it through your head,” Moose said. “She needs us now. She could be lying out there hurt, for all we know. Or worse. So you’re going if I have to throw you over a saddle and tie you down.”
“Use some sense.”
“I’ll use something else,” Moose growled, and waded in anew.
Fargo’s temper snapped. He’d tried to reason but Moose was too mad to listen, and Fargo would be damned if he was anyone’s punching bag. As Moose sprang, he twisted and drove his right fist into the pit of Moose’s stomach. Moose grunted and folded but stayed on his feet. Fargo remedied that with two swift blows to the ear that caused Moose to fall to his knees. Instantly, Fargo skipped in and swung a solid right to the chin. He almost broke his hand but Moose swayed and his eyelids fluttered and he keeled onto his side.
“You did it!” Wendy whooped.
Fargo wasn’t so sure. He poked Moose a few times. The bear hunter didn’t move but he did groan. Fargo went to the Ovaro for his rope.
“Is that necessary?”
“You saw him,” Fargo said. He bound Moose’s wrists and was doing the same to his ankles when the night disgorged the three Blackfeet.
Bird Rattler would make a good poker player. He showed no surprise at seeing Moose on the ground. “We use big white as bait now?” he dryly asked.
“We should, the jackass,” Fargo said. He had a welt on his temple and his head hurt like hell. “Any sign of the woman and her little ones?”
“We not find,” Bird Rattler reported. “Come back. Wait for sun.”
“I’ll make coffee,” Fargo volunteered. He needed sleep but the fight had his blood racing. And it wouldn’t hurt to sit up a while and see if Cecelia showed.
Bird Rattler started to lead his horse off and the other two did the same.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Fargo asked.
“Make our fire,” the Blackfoot said.
“Like hell. From now on you sit with us and share our food.”
“Maybe him not want,” Bird Rattler said, indicating Moose.
“I don’t give a damn. After what he just did he doesn’t have a say.” Fargo looked around for the coffeepot. It had been knocked a good ten feet from the fire. Retrieving it, he headed for the stream. He wasn’t expecting company but he got some.
“I’d like a word,” Wendolyn said.
“What’s stopping you?”
“You are. You’re in a bit of a snit and I can do without having my head bit off.”
“So long as you don’t take a swing at me we’ll get along fine.”
“Very well, then. The issue is this.” Wendy paused. “I’m having second thoughts. We’ve lost your friend and now possibly Mrs. Mathers and her children. I have to ask. Is five thousand dollars worth all these lives?”
“We quit now, Rooster died for nothing. I’m seeing it through no matter what you or anyone else does.”
“I didn’t say I was bowing out,” Wendy said quickly. “In case you haven’t heard, we British are famous for our stiff upper lips.”
Fargo reached the stream and squatted to dip the pot in the water.
“I heard something,” Wendy whispered. “There.” He extended his elephant gun toward the other side.
All Fargo heard was the babbling of the water. He had about decided it was nothing when a plaintive cry came out of the darkness.
“Help us, please.”
Fargo dropped the pot and splashed across. Three small faces peered at him from atop the bank.
“Up here, mister,” Abner said.
“Hurry,” Bethany begged.
“She’s hurt real bad,” Thomas added.
Fargo scrambled up and over and nearly stepped on Cecelia. She was on the ground, a hand pressed to her side, her skin like chalk. Her eyes were shut. “Cecelia?” he said, but got no answer.
“She passed out,” Abner said. “We didn’t know what to do.”