“Son of a bitch!” Gene shouted. “We made it!’
“I don’t think that all of us made it,” Chad said, speaking in a small, pained voice.
Struck by the tone in the young man’s voice, Jim looked toward him. “Chad, you’re wounded?”
“Yes.”
“How bad?”
“Pretty bad,” Chad said. With that, he fell from his saddle. It was almost as if he had been holding on by sheer willpower until this moment. Now, with the immediate danger over, he let go of that will, and when he did, there was nothing left to sustain him.
Jim jumped from his saddle and hurried over to his young friend. “Chad, take it easy,” he said. “We’ll rest here a while.”
Chad forced a laugh. “Jim, looks like I’m going to be resting here from now on,” he said. “Funny, I never thought I’d wind up buried down here in ol’ Mexico.” He closed his eyes.
“Chad? Chad?” Jim called to him.
“How is he?” Barry asked. “How bad is he hurt?”
Jim felt for a pulse, then leaned over and put his ear to Chad’s chest. He listened for a long moment. Then he straightened up, sighed, and shook his head.
“He’s dead,” he said.
Chapter 12
“Mama, I’m hungry,” Brenda said.
“I know, sweetheart,” Katie answered. “We’re all hungry, but there’s nothing we can do about it except just keep on.”
“Do you have any idea where we are?” Marilou asked.
Katie twisted around in her saddle and looked toward the sun. “Well, it’s still morning, and the sun is off to our right,” she said. “That means we’re going north. And if we keep going north long enough, we’re bound to get back home.”
The three women rode on in silence for several more minutes. Then Katie held up her hand. “Stop,” she said, quietly.
“What is it, Mama?” Marilou asked.
Kate swung down from the saddle and, holding the pistol before her, started walking toward a bush. There, in the bush, hungrily cropping leaves, was a young wild goat.
“Oh, Mama, look,” Brenda said. “He’s so cute.”
“Not cute, honey, delicious,” Katie said. “That’s our lunch.”
When Jim, Frank, Barry, and Gene heard the gunshot, Jim held up his hand to stop the others.
“Where did it come from?” Barry asked.
“Over there, on the other side of that little ridge, I think,” Gene answered.
“Frank, hold the horses,” Jim ordered. “Barry, Gene, come with me.”
With pistols in hand, Jim, Barry, and Gene dismounted, moved at a crouch toward the ridge, then slipped up to the crest.
“Mama, you got it!” they heard a female voice say in English.
Jim looked over the rise of the hill and saw three women moving toward a goat. Though hit, the goat was still twitching.
“He’s not dead,” one of the girls said.
“Get a stick,” the older of the three said. “I’ll finish killing him.”
“Oh, Mama, are you going to hit him? Wouldn’t it be more humane to shoot him again?”
“I don’t want to waste any more bullets,” the older of the three women said. “If Shardeen and Whitey come after us, we may need them.”
“I have a knife,” Jim offered, standing suddenly and starting down the hill toward the three women. “I’ll finish him off for you.”
The older of the three women swung her pistol around toward Jim and cocked it.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“The name is Jim Robison, ma’am. And like you, I’m an American.”
“What are you doing here?”
“My pards and I have come down here to get a herd of horses. The question is, what are you three doing here?”
“Believe me, we aren’t here by choice. What do you mean, your partners?”
“They’re up there,” Jim said, nodding toward the crest of the ridgeline. “Why don’t you lower that hog leg, and I’ll have them come on down?”
Katie thought about it for a moment, then, with a sigh, lowered her pistol. If they really did have her covered, it would be suicide for her daughters and her if she tried anything now. Besides, whoever they were, they weren’t Shardeen and Whitey.
“My name is Katie Kincaid,” she said. “These are my two daughters, Marilou and Brenda.”
Jim turned toward the ridge. “Gene, Barry, get Frank and you boys come on down,” he called out. After that, he started toward the still-twitching goat. Using his knife, he made a quick cut of the jugular vein. The goat bled profusely for a moment then stopped twitching.
“I’ll get some wood for a fire,” Barry offered.
“I haven’t invited you to join us,” Katie said.
“No, ma’am, you haven’t,” Jim replied. “But it seems to me like there might be enough here to feed all of us. That is, if you don’t mind a little company.”
Katie thought about it for a moment
“Mama, if Shardeen and Whitey show up, it might be good to have someone around,” Marilou said.
Jim was in the process of skinning the goat, and when he heard Marilou say Shardeen’s name, he looked up quickly.
“Did you say Shardeen?”
“Yes,” Katie answered. “Is this man Shardeen a friend of yours?”
Jim shook his head. “I’d hardly call him a friend,” he said, “though I have made his acquaintance Why would he be showing up?”
“He captured us,” Katie said.
“Captured you?”
“He came to our ranch, killed my husband and son, then took the three of us captive. He was going to sell us.”
“What do you mean, sell you?” Barry asked, surprised by the comment. “Sell you to do what?”
Katie just stared at him.
Then, realizing what she meant, Barry said, “Oh,” blushing profusely.
“We are trying to get back home to Texas,” Katie said. “‘If you will help us, if you will be our protection, I’ll pay you. I can’t pay you until we get back, of course, because I have no money with me. But I will pay you what I can when we get back home.”
“Right now, it’s all we can do to protect ourselves,” Jim said. “We just lost three of our number.”
“Lost? Lost how?”
“I mean we just had three of our friends shot and killed,” Jim explained.
“By who? Who is after you?”
“As nearly as I can tell, the Federales are after us.”
“The Mexican police? Why? What have you done?”
“That’s just it. We ain’t done nothin’,” Gene said.
“The police don’t come after you for no reason at all. Not even the Mexican police,” Katie said.
“Until this moment, I had no idea why they were after us,” Jim said. “But after what you just told us, I think I’m beginning to see. I believe they came after us thinking we was the ones that killed your man and your boy.”
Katie ran her hand through her hair, then nodded. “That might be the case,” she said. “If so, I’m sorry you got caught up in our troubles. Especially your friends who were killed. But I must say I’m glad someone knows about us and is trying to do something, even if they are after the wrong men.”
“Yes, ma’am, I reckon I can see your point,” Jim said as he finished skinning the goat. “I just wish they’d been a mite more sure before they started shootin’ at us, is all.”
By now Barry had a fire roaring. Jim rose from his task.
“Well, he’s skinned and gutted, and there’s a fire goin’ so you can cook him. But goat’s no good without salt. I’ve got plenty of that. What do you say? Are we sharing?”
Katie nodded. “We’re sharing,” she said.
It took the goat a couple of hours to cook, though it had been cut into smaller pieces. The aroma was doubly enticing to the exceptionally hungry people, and even before it cooled, they began eating hot pieces of the meat, tossing the meat from hand to hand, blowing and nibbling at it.