Shootout at the Spring

Shootout at the Spring

Episode Four

Luke

Luke smiled to himself, set the water on to boil, and went to see after the horses. It might take him a few extra days, but the vengeance would come, Good Samaritan or not. Luke put a rope on each of the three horses and tied them to separate trees. Once the snow had melted, they would have plenty of rich grass to graze. He retrieved his own rifle from the scabbard beneath the bedroll and moved around to the woods at the top of the spring. He found a place to rest his back and blend into the trees.

The spring was a natural watering hole, and sooner or later, something good to eat would come for a drink. He didn’t much care if it wore feathers or fur as long as it was edible. The sun was almost fully visible in the east, and the mountains to the west were reflecting its light.

This would be a wonderful spot to build a cabin and raise a family, if the Sioux would leave you alone. One way or another, he felt that day was coming. Too many people were moving west, and it was obvious something would have to give. His family had not been bothered by the Sioux, but he knew it was because they were off the buffalo migration routes. They did nothing to annoy the Sioux, and the Sioux had left them and their small ranch alone.

He watched the water boiling up from the spring and moving across the pool the natural depression had formed. A morning caddis hatch was causing an occasional rise on the water’s quieter surface. He became so engrossed in the scenery that he almost missed the bevy of grouse that eased out of the grass and approached the edge of the spring. He brought the rifle up quickly and fired two rapid shots. The first shot decapitated the nearest bird, and the second broke the next bird’s neck. The remainder took flight, but two fair-sized grouse hens were enough for breakfast and lunch.

The rifle shot woke Chad. He tried to rise but quickly gave that up. He moved his head and saw the fire and the coffee pot. He could smell the coffee, and the smell was tantalizing. Just beyond, he could see horses; he thought he saw Buck among them. He tried to clear his mind and remember, but it was nearly blank. He remembered being shot and taking off after the shooter, but then it got fuzzy. Coffee had something to do with it. Where was he, and who made the fire, and how did he get into a bedroll?

The cowboy walked up beside Chad’s bed, his rifle in one hand and the two grouse in the other. “Good morning, Marshal, Luke Gentry’s the name. Guess you’ll live if gangrene doesn’t set in.”

Chad’s lips were parched, and he found it difficult to speak. “I’m Chad. Chad Pennington, U.S. Territorial Marshal. How’d I get here?”

“You rode up last night, tried to arrest someone named Lance, and then fell off your horse. I cut a bullet out of your shoulder; you must be tough ‘cause you’re still alive.”

Chad put his hand on the bandage. It was sore to the touch, but it didn’t send screaming pain down his arm to move it. “How is Buck?”

“I assume you mean the buckskin. He’s been watered, and he’s in grass. I haven’t rubbed him down yet, but I will as soon as breakfast is over. I need to get something in you.”

“Water, I think I need water more than anything.”

Luke handed his canteen over to Chad. “Help yourself while I skin these birds and split ‘em.”

The birds were skinned, cleaned, and speared in a matter of minutes. The green sticks were placed in the ground next to the hot coals. Luke picked up his grooming brush and walked across the grass to where Buck stood. The grass was showing through the snow now, and the horses were beginning to graze under the rising sun’s warmth. Buck was a little nervous but settled down under the soft cooing of Luke and the relaxing stroke of the brush.

The cottonwood trees surrounding the spring were beginning to show their fall colors, and the yellow and reddish heart-shaped leaves twisted and turned in the light morning breeze. Snow was sliding off the few evergreens mixed among the hardwoods. The smell of cooking meat spread horizontally out from the fire as well as spiraling up to the heavens; the enticing aroma set Chad’s stomach to grumbling. He remembered he had not eaten since breakfast the day before.

The coffee was not too strong, but it was burning hot, and though he could only use his right hand, Chad was able to bite the tender meat off the bird bones between sips of the brew. He was sure he had never had a breakfast any better. Before long the light snow was gone, and everything was drying out under the warm Dakota sun. With Luke’s assistance, Chad was able to sit up, and once in an upright position, he was curious to know about Luke and how he came to be at the spring just when Chad needed someone to rescue him.

“What are you doing out here, Luke? You headed someplace in particular or just passing through the territory?”

“I’m doing the same thing you’re doing, except I’m not a marshal, and I wasn’t crazy enough to get myself shot.”

“Yeah, I rode right into that ambush. The way Lance lit out from Fort Pierre I was sure he would head for Wyoming as fast as his horse would take him. I didn’t want to be too far behind, so I threw caution to the wind. I’m learning as I go. Who are you after, Luke and why?”

“Two men, Aaron Cutlithe and Zeke Travis. Murderers and rapists, among a host of other crimes. If it’s wrong, they probably did it at some point in their lives.

“They must be new to the territory ‘cause I’ve not heard their names. No posters about them either. Sounds like a story; you mind sharing it?”

Chad knew something bad had happened as soon as he spoke. He saw Luke’s eyes narrow and his soft features harden. Even his voice took on a different tone, the marshal realized.

“Three days ago, those two birds showed up at our ranch looking for work. It was a busy time, so my father took them on. The second night, they got drunk. I don’t know how they got the whiskey because my folks are teetotalers. Anyway, I was up on the range with the cattle about a mile from the house, so I didn’t know anything about it. My little sister, Sally, who’s only fifteen, went out to the barn to milk our old cow. Those two scoundrels grabbed her, crammed a handkerchief in her mouth and pulled her further into the barn and out of sight. Then…then…they raped her.”

Chad interrupted Luke’s story with a harsh word. He could feel the blood rising in his own veins.

“Sorry, go ahead, Luke.”

“My dad got nervous because Sally was gone so long; he grabbed his rifle and went looking for her. He caught Zeke in the act, but Aaron was watching, and when my dad threw Zeke down, Aaron shot him with his revolver. The bullet went right through his heart. I heard the echo from the shot and came tearing down the range. The two of them skedaddled, leaving my sister in shock and my father dead. They must have known I was coming down upon ‘em.

“Anyway, I got mother, and she and I got Sally to the house. I went back and brought my father in and laid him on their bed. I was so angry I couldn’t be sad. My mother was trying to console Sally and argue me out of going after them at the same time. She didn’t even have time to grieve the loss of her husband. I loaded me a war kit and packed some supplies on old Mary there and started out after them.

“It was dark, but the moon was bright enough to see their tracks, particularly where they had churned up the dirt and grass in their hasty getaway. They had talked of Wyoming while they were working, and I figured that was where they were headed. I rode most of the night without catching them, which made me think they knew they were being followed.  

“Yesterday, I moved at a slower pace to save my horses, but I think I gained on them some because they had to rest at some point. I figured on catching up with them by dark today, but you came along, and here we are.”

“Thank you for helping me, Luke. I promise that I will join you in bringing those two varmints to justice as soon as I can ride.”

“What about Lance?”

I’m Philip

Welcome to my blog. I have a Masters of Counseling, and a Masters of Theological Studies, and I enjoy blogging about the Bible, as well as writing books, both non-fiction and fiction. I have taught an adult Sunday Bible class for over sixty-five years. Information and access to my books are on the website. I welcome your comments and questions.

Let’s connect