protested.
“This is gonna get brutal. I don’t want a do-gooder along.”
“An odd handle for me after what we’ve been through together.”
McAllen gave me a hard look. “I ain’t looking for a fair fight.”
“What are ya lookin’ for?” Sharp asked with an edge. “Revenge?”
McAllen swung around on Sharp. “Answers. This stinks. I want to know what happened and why. We’re gonna take two alive and get answers.”
The number worried me. If McAllen wanted two, it meant he thought one might not talk before he lost the ability to talk. This was going to get brutal. It seemed that both McAllen and Sharp harbored serious doubts about this abduction, so I turned to Red. “How does this affair strike you?”
Red took so long to answer, I thought he might refuse to respond. Finally, he said, “The Utes up north are on the warpath, but these braves probably jumped the reservation weeks or months ago. They don’t act like a war party. No other marauding. A tribe will raise whites as their own but not renegades. Renegades wage war or hide. These look to be hiding.”
“Is it likely they would kill the girl?” I threw a sideways glance at McAllen but continued anyway. “After they were through with her.”
Red swallowed. “They would have used her and killed her right off … or kept her for the winter.” He hesitated and then added, “I believe these Utes jumped the reservation merely to live the way of their fathers. How they got involved with the girl looks strange. I don’t understand it.”
“Damn it, those Indians ain’t gonna stay put forever!” McAllen yelled. “I want to scout their camp before nightfall, so you two get going … or wait here. I don’t give a damn either way.”
With that, McAllen went to his bed and began to roll it up. Sharp looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I nodded and went to pack my own gear.
When McAllen saw we intended to go with him, he said, “No packhorses. Take food for two days in saddlebags and hide the rest. Pen the packhorses, and we’ll pick everything up on the way back. Jeff, show Steve how to collect our horses.”
“Can I holler?” I asked.
“What?”
“Can I make a loud noise?”
“Sing for all I care,” McAllen said. “That band of Indians is hours away.”
I walked over to our food bags and rummaged around until I found a carrot. Walking a little way out of camp, I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, “Chestnut!”
When my horse started walking in our direction, I snapped the carrot. Chestnut immediately trotted right over. When Sharp looked dumbfounded, I said, “So … how do you collect your horse?”
Despite the situation, Sharp laughed. McAllen did not. He just picked up his lariat and went after his own horse.
Chapter 11
In five hours we were on a rise above the Ute camp, peering down at them through field glasses. We had left the horses behind a ridge and scurried low until we took shelter behind some brush overlooking a small meadow. The Utes were digging in for the winter. They had constructed shelters out of branches and covered most of them in hides. Three of the men were dressing a deer. They hung the skins to dry and carved off the meat in thin strips and hung them as well. In a few minutes, a teen Ute emerged from the woods toting the dress with something inside that weighted it down.
“I count five,” McAllen said. “The other two are probably hunting. We wait for all seven.” McAllen handed me the field glasses. “Are you as good a shot as you said?”
“What do you want me to hit?”
“I want you to shoot two of the Utes in the shoulder or leg … from here.”
I didn’t put the field glasses up to my eyes. “Tough. About two hundred yards.” I thought about it. “The shoulder’s risky, and a man hit in the leg can still have a lot of fight.”
“Then go for the leg. They’re not carrying weapons.”
“Have to be fast. The second man might be moving.” I
“This is gonna get brutal. I don’t want a do-gooder along.”
“An odd handle for me after what we’ve been through together.”
McAllen gave me a hard look. “I ain’t looking for a fair fight.”
“What are ya lookin’ for?” Sharp asked with an edge. “Revenge?”
McAllen swung around on Sharp. “Answers. This stinks. I want to know what happened and why. We’re gonna take two alive and get answers.”
The number worried me. If McAllen wanted two, it meant he thought one might not talk before he lost the ability to talk. This was going to get brutal. It seemed that both McAllen and Sharp harbored serious doubts about this abduction, so I turned to Red. “How does this affair strike you?”
Red took so long to answer, I thought he might refuse to respond. Finally, he said, “The Utes up north are on the warpath, but these braves probably jumped the reservation weeks or months ago. They don’t act like a war party. No other marauding. A tribe will raise whites as their own but not renegades. Renegades wage war or hide. These look to be hiding.”
“Is it likely they would kill the girl?” I threw a sideways glance at McAllen but continued anyway. “After they were through with her.”
Red swallowed. “They would have used her and killed her right off … or kept her for the winter.” He hesitated and then added, “I believe these Utes jumped the reservation merely to live the way of their fathers. How they got involved with the girl looks strange. I don’t understand it.”
“Damn it, those Indians ain’t gonna stay put forever!” McAllen yelled. “I want to scout their camp before nightfall, so you two get going … or wait here. I don’t give a damn either way.”
With that, McAllen went to his bed and began to roll it up. Sharp looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I nodded and went to pack my own gear.
When McAllen saw we intended to go with him, he said, “No packhorses. Take food for two days in saddlebags and hide the rest. Pen the packhorses, and we’ll pick everything up on the way back. Jeff, show Steve how to collect our horses.”
“Can I holler?” I asked.
“What?”
“Can I make a loud noise?”
“Sing for all I care,” McAllen said. “That band of Indians is hours away.”
I walked over to our food bags and rummaged around until I found a carrot. Walking a little way out of camp, I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, “Chestnut!”
When my horse started walking in our direction, I snapped the carrot. Chestnut immediately trotted right over. When Sharp looked dumbfounded, I said, “So … how do you collect your horse?”
Despite the situation, Sharp laughed. McAllen did not. He just picked up his lariat and went after his own horse.
Chapter 11
In five hours we were on a rise above the Ute camp, peering down at them through field glasses. We had left the horses behind a ridge and scurried low until we took shelter behind some brush overlooking a small meadow. The Utes were digging in for the winter. They had constructed shelters out of branches and covered most of them in hides. Three of the men were dressing a deer. They hung the skins to dry and carved off the meat in thin strips and hung them as well. In a few minutes, a teen Ute emerged from the woods toting the dress with something inside that weighted it down.
“I count five,” McAllen said. “The other two are probably hunting. We wait for all seven.” McAllen handed me the field glasses. “Are you as good a shot as you said?”
“What do you want me to hit?”
“I want you to shoot two of the Utes in the shoulder or leg … from here.”
I didn’t put the field glasses up to my eyes. “Tough. About two hundred yards.” I thought about it. “The shoulder’s risky, and a man hit in the leg can still have a lot of fight.”
“Then go for the leg. They’re not carrying weapons.”
“Have to be fast. The second man might be moving.” I
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