Paper Sheriff (19 page)

“Are you ready for the news of who shot you?” Jen asked and at his nod, she said, “Orville Hoad.”

“You don't know that, Jen.”

“But I do. I was attracted by the shots, and I looked over the rim. I could see him plainly. Oh, I wish I'd had a gun!”

“Why were you anywhere around?”

“I'll tell you that once you're hidden. I saw you try for the stream. Is that where you want to be?”

“It's better cover.”

“Then we'll go.”

“No,” Reese said flatly. “If he sees me try, he'll open up again.”

“Not at me,” Jen said firmly. “If you put your arm around my shoulder and use your rifle as a cane, I'll be between you and Orv. He won't dare shoot at you.”

“No,” Reese said again.

“Reese, listen to me,” Jen pled. “I'm here in plain sight of him and I have been for ten minutes. He first shot to scare me off. I wouldn't scare. He has his own good reason for not killing me, so he won't shoot at you for fear of hitting me. Can't you see that?”

“Jen, he wants me dead. If he has to kill you to do it, he will.”

“You've never been afraid in your life, Reese. Why are you afraid now?”

“I'm not afraid
of
anything, I'm afraid
for you
,” Reese said, almost angrily.

Jen said calmly, “If you're so sure he'll shoot, then let's die together. Life's no good for either of us without the other.”

“Wait till dark, Jen. I can hold him off till then.”

“Listen to me, Reese. Orv doesn't know I saw him. You weren't able to identify him from here. He'll think neither of us knows who's shooting at you. All right? Rather than risk killing me to kill you, he'll pull out and wait for another day. He'll feel safe because he thinks neither of us has seen him.”

“What's the matter with waiting?” Reese said gruffly.

“Because he knows exactly where to find you. Once in the creek brush, we could be anywhere—waiting for him or gone.”

“Your father would be proud of that argument, Jen. All right, we'll go. Bend down now.”

When she did Reese put his arms around her and kissed her on the mouth and she returned his kiss with passion.

Afterwards she said softly, “Dear Reese.”

Then she rose and asked, “Can you get up alone, Reese?”

“Of course.”

“I'll stand on your horse to screen you. Put on your shirt. Stay close to me. Once you're up and leaning on your rifle, I'll step down. Put your arm around my shoulder. I'll put my arm on your near shoulder, so it screens your head. We'll have to aim for the creek at an angle so that I'm always between you and him. Are you ready?”

“I am,” Reese said grimly. “Only I wish I knew what I was ready for.”

Jen stepped up on the dead horse's body and spread her skirts. Her back was to Orv and she watched Reese put on his shirt and hat, then come painfully to his knees and lever himself erect with the rifle. He could not stifle a groan of pain as the torn muscles of his leg adjusted to a new position.

Before Jen stood down, she said, “I'm betting he'll try to scare us again, Reese.”

“Yes. Expect it.”

Now Jen stepped down beside him and in the same motion raised her arm and put it on Reese's shoulder, hand extended flat against his cheek. His bare arm circled her shoulder. This was scarcely done before a rifle shot cracked out from the bench. They heard the swift passage of a bullet overhead.

The rifle, barrel down, made an adequate cane and now they started out, clinging to each other, taking an angle that would keep Jen between Orville and Reese. A second shot geysered dust at their feet and Reese spoke around gritted teeth, “A peaceful stroll, isn't it?” The third shot brushed Reese's hat and he ducked his head lower. Jen wasn't aware of it, so he said nothing.

Their pace was faster than either of them had hoped they could achieve. Now Jen looked up at the bench, hoping desperately that Orville would see her and think she was trying to identify the man behind the rifle. She saw the pale hair appear briefly from behind a rock, then the shot came, again at their feet and closer. They had covered more than half of the thirty yards they must travel for safety. Orv tried another high shot and missed. Reese, through the wrenching pain of his leg, remembered that shooting from a height the hunter tends to overshoot and he was waiting for Orv's adjusting shot. He exaggerated his limp now in an effort to keep his head constantly on the move. Orv would go for his head, Reese knew, for due to Jen's lack of height, it was the only part of him really exposed.

But Orville crossed him. The next shot whipped through Jen's billowing skirts and cut through the back of Reese's right boot top as he swung his injured leg forward. Its force pulled him off balance and he would have fallen if he hadn't had his arm around Jen's shoulder.

Then they were in the alders, plunging through the branches which tripped Reese. He fell crashing through them and pulled Jen down with him, but the alder branches whipped back into place, screening them from Orv. In a kind of controlled panic, Jen came to her feet, seized Reese by the shoulders and dragged him deeper into the thicket. She noticed that his sleeveless shirt and his arms were drenched in perspiration.

“All right, all right,” Reese protested. “Help me up, Jen.”

With her help he came to his feet again and Jen saw his face was grey with pain and exhaustion.

“Go downstream a few yards, Jen, and put me down. Then clean the dirt out of my rifle barrel. Wash it in the creek if you have to, but make sure.”

Orv wouldn't shoot now, Reese knew. A blind shot just might hit Jen and that was what Orv obviously didn't want.

A few yards downstream Jen eased Reese into the alder thicket and Reese lowered himself to the ground. Then, putting his hat aside he struggled snake fashion through the thicket until he could see Orv's position through the screening leaves. He watched and saw no movement, and he wearily guessed that Orv, knowing the thicket would screen himself as well as them, had seized the opportunity to disappear.

When Jen returned with the dripping wet rifle, she said, “It's clean and re-loaded.” She bent down and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I'll get our horse, Reese.”

He nodded and in the interval between then and when Jen returned sleep overwhelmed him. She had brought her blanket roll and food with her, but when she saw him sleeping she put it aside, gently extricated his rifle from under his body and then took up his vigil.

During the hour he slept Jen saw no movement on the canyon bench, and while she watched she speculated on the future. First, she would have to get Reese to a doctor. With his torn leg would he be able to ride? Or should she hunt down the nearest ranch for a wagon? She knew Moffitt had a doctor but would Reese allow himself to be taken there? She doubted it. While she herself could carry the news of Orv's ambush to Jim Daley, Reese would insist on seeing him too, and while the ambush had taken place outside Sutton County, Reese would want Orv's trial held in Bale. Farmer, Orv's attorney—no, she was thinking too far ahead. The immediate problem was to get Reese in the safe hands of a doctor.

A movement she caught in the corner of her eye swivelled her head a little; she saw a moving object far out on the flats, so far that she could identify it only as a horse and mounted rider headed west. Could it be Orv? He had probably bidden his horse somewhere back from the canyon's rim rock. Reaching it after the ambush and careful not to be identified, he could have traveled the cliff north until he found a break in it, descended and headed west to warn the Hoads who were driving the stolen cattle. This was only a guess, and she made herself be patient until Reese wakened and could give his judgement of the far rider.

When Reese did awaken, Jen helped him to a sitting position, where he was supported by a thick alder branch at his back. His face was flushed now, and Jen guessed that the fever had started. She told him of the distant rider, and he listened with a curious indifference, his eyes shining with fever.

When she was finished Reese said, “He knows he didn't kill us, and he knows you'll get word to Sheriff Braden. He's probably on his way to pull off his boys and scatter the herd.”

“Then shall we try to make Moffitt?” Jen asked. “Shall I get a wagon?”

“No,” Reese said flatly. “We'll ride double and make camp at dark. We'll make the Moffitt road by the middle of the morning and flag down the Bale stage when it passes.” He paused. “Now, why did you follow me from the stage station, Jen?”

“You're no good in court without a corroborating witness, Reese. They'll be tried in a different district under a different judge, and Callie will be tried with them. What good would it be to find them and give the information to Braden if he can't get somebody besides you to testify against Callie?”

“But how did you find me?”

Jen told him of the stable-boy's directions, of her decision to ride the rim rock instead of the more difficult canyon and of hearing the exchange of shots which attracted her. As she talked Jen saw beads of perspiration form on Reese's forehead and upper lip and she knew that his leg was torturing him.

Food was needed, she thought, and she unwrapped her blanket roll and served up her meagre fare of bread and leather-tough jerky. Reese had scarcely taken two bites when he laid his bread on the leaves and tucked his jerky in his shirt pocket. “Jen, I'm caving in,” Reese said thinly. “I want to try and make that saddle while I still can.”

Wordlessly, Jen handed over the rifle, then rose and moved up beside him. Together they managed to get him on to his feet, and again Reese leaned on her. This time Jen could help him by grabbing his belt to lift and steady him. When they halted beside the horse Reese reached out and stroked the gelding's nose. “He'll hold still for a wrong-side mount, Jen.” His speech was oddly slurred and it seemed to surprise even himself. He looked down at Jen and smiled. “You'd better make it the first time, Jen. Turn the stirrup so I can get my left foot in it, then get under me and boost me. Once, I'm belly down across the saddle, swing my left leg astride over the horse. When I'm up there, don't try to put my right foot in the stirrup. Let it dangle.”

Grasping the horn with his left hand Reese waited until Jen turned the stirrup toward him, holding onto his belt with her free hand. Putting his weight on his stiff-armed right arm and rifle and grasping the saddle horn, Reese swung up his left leg, and Jen guided the stirrup toward his boot. Then swiftly, as Reese pulled on the horn, she pushed from behind, and Reese fell across the saddle, belly down. As he had directed, Jen swung his left leg over the horse's back, and Reese was astride. Now, with his left leg levering, he edged himself over the cantle and into the saddle. His right leg dangled straight down, and Jen knew that the raw exit wound would be pressed against the saddle skirt. The motion of the horse would make it bleed again and it would, Jen knew grimly, be a sustained agony. She said nothing, however, and went back into the thicket for her blanket roll and Reese's hat. When the blanket roll was tied ahead of the pommel, Jen picked up Reese's rifle, moved to the stream, cleaned it as she had done before, then slipped it into the empty saddle scabbard.

“Finished,” she said. “Now let me lead my horse over to yours, Reese. We'll need your food and blankets.”

Reese only nodded and now Jen gathered up the reins and, leading her horse, sought a break in the alder brush. Once through it she glanced back and saw that Reese's face was set in a grimness that almost frightened her.

At the downed horse, Jen worked Reese's blanket roll free and tied it behind the cantle. He was silent all through it, his head sunk as if in reverie. Jen had to remind him to free his boot from the stirrup so she could use it to mount. Once she was settled behind him, Reese lifted the horse into motion, heading north across the tree-stippled flats which cast late afternoon shadows.

Reese, it turned out, could not keep awake, or was it, Jen wondered, that he could not keep conscious? His head would loll and his body from the waist up would sag until Jen had to put her arms around his waist to keep him in the saddle. Finally she slipped the reins from his hand to correct the almost aimless wandering of the puzzled horse. At full dusk they came to a cluster of big pinyons that bordered a small seep, and Jen knew that here they must make camp, for Reese for the dozenth time had slid off again into unconsciousness.

Jen took Reese's hat off his head, dismounted, went to the seep, filled his hat with water, then came back and pitched the contents into Reese's face. The shock of it roused him and Jen said, “We've got to get you down, Reese. It should be on the right side again, shouldn't it?”

Reese only nodded. First Jen untied both blanket rolls and spread out the blankets on the flat under a big pinyon. Afterwards she went back to the horse and said to Reese, “Lean as far over as you can, Reese, and I'll get your leg over. Get belly down like you did before. Here's your rifle.”

Reese did as he was instructed and Jen worked his leg over the cantle, then circled the horse, got behind Reese and slowly eased him down. His left leg buckled and for a moment she had the full weight of him before he caught himself. Afterwards she led him to the blankets, slacked him onto them and covered him with one. As she stood above him looking at his flushed face, the lids closed over his unseeing eyes.

That was done, but what would tomorrow bring, Jen wondered with quiet despair.

6

Around midnight Orv, who had finally circled back to the creek, was picked up by a watcher who called, “Sing out, Mister.”

He recognized Buddy's voice and said, “It's me, Orv.”

Buddy was mounted and therefore ready for fight or flight, and Orv approved. He approached now and reined in.