White Moon Rising Read online

  Surprise was the only thing that would help. He had to see them first. Then the thought that had kept blasting through him, made him shudder with fear. If he was in time.

  It was almost dark when Andy topped a ridge, but because of his training, he didn’t skyline himself. He was still on the horse, but only the top part of his head peeked over. It was all that that stopped the group off to his left from spotting him.

  He couldn’t make out the men’s features but Elijah was easy to spot. His heart thumped heavily in his chest. It was also obvious the group had a woman, and it must be Abbey.

  Easing the horse backward, he dismounted and tied the reins of the extra horse to Big Red’s saddle. He left the big horse ground hitched as he inched forward on foot. At the peak of the ridge, he glanced over. The group would have to make camp soon and from the direction they headed there was only one good place.

  Sliding backward, he stood and caught up Big Red’s reins. Leading the two horses to his left, he swung wide of the place he thought they would camp.

  Andy needed a place to leave the horses away from the camp so the other horses wouldn’t smell his and alert them. After several agonizing minutes of looking, he found a good place with grass and a little water. This time he hobbled both horses. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he couldn’t be caught out here at a time like this without a horse. Abbey’s life might depend on it.

  With all the skill he’d learned as a Lakota warrior, and glad he wore his moccasins, he eased toward them. As difficult as it was, he forced himself to take his time, and he came downwind of the horses. There was a slight breeze blowing and he timed his movement with the wind. The rustling of the leaves in the trees and brush covered his soft footfalls.

  At first, he was close enough for the people’s voices to drift to him, almost like a faraway song with no words distinguishable.

  The closer he came to the group, the more pronounced their words.

  He squatted within ten feet of them, rifle across his thighs. As he looked from person to person, the tension of the group was evident. As he listened, he kept an eye on Elijah, and he wasn’t surprised when Elijah motioned to Tahatan. The white men had their attention on Abbey and weren’t aware of what the Indian boy was doing.

  Tahatan slipped into the darkness and saddled one horse—Abbey’s big black. They either had a plan or thought the situation was so desperate they had to do something.

  Andy was handicapped against the three men. He couldn’t charge into camp shooting. Too much of a chance to hit Abbey or Elijah. Besides, getting himself killed wouldn’t help her.

  As he contemplated what to do, Patton asked Abbey why she wasn’t afraid.

  Abbey replied, “Why should I be afraid? Have you ever seen Andy shoot? He is very good. Also, you better never let him get his hands on you. He’ll snap you like a piece of chalk.”

  Her words gave him an idea. He stood and eased around toward the horses. A gust of wind blew and suddenly one of the horses lifted his head, nostrils flaring. Another snorted as he too caught Andy’s scent as he’d intended.

  “Look at him,” Abbey yelled, talking about the horse. “There’s somebody out there.”

  Andy squatted. His nearness was unsettling to the horses, but he had also gotten into a better position. They couldn’t see him, this he knew, but he could see all of them. Plus, Abbey was now out of his line of fire if he had to.

  As the conversation around the fire continued, it was easy to understand why Elijah had sent Tahatan to saddle the horse. The situation was too tense.

  He wasn’t surprised when he heard Patton talking about JT. Then it dawned on him who the man was he’d seen JT with. He was the Indian agent at the fort—the one responsible for feeding and getting the Indians the clothing and blankets they needed. JT must be behind the stealing of the cows and supplies. That was why he tried to get Andy to leave, and when he couldn’t do that, then he had to have him killed.

  His attention jerked back to the camp. He was in a dilemma. Should he charge in now or wait? He cocked his head. She seemed more relaxed than he would expect her to be under those circumstances. Also, something about the way she stood and held her right arm caused him to hesitate.

  If he’d known about her derringer, he wouldn’t have been as surprised. When Patton turned and shot at Elijah, the other man lunged at Abbey. As if in slow motion, the small gun rose and fire blossomed from the barrel.

  The heavy slug hit the man in the stomach with a wet wallop. The man fell to his knees and if the bullet hadn’t killed him, the shock of Abbey shooting him might have.

  The two remaining men dived sideways as Abbey fired her last shot.

  Andy darted into the clearing as Abbey ran for her horse, jumping into the saddle.

  Patton leaped up and turned his gun on the boy. Andy’s round hit Patton square in the back before he could fire.

  In one motion, Andy dropped to a knee and cocked his rifle. The other man’s bullet, fired at where Andy had been, whipped past. Andy fired from the hip. His bullet hit the last man in the shoulder, spinning him around.

  As the man turned back, Andy fired again. This time the round hit him in the head with a thump like a melon.

  Choking on the powder smoke blanketing the area, Andy yelled, “Abbey,” as best he could get out, but she couldn’t hear him over the pounding hooves.

  He whirled around, dropping to a knee in case the men weren’t dead. Moments passed, but when Tahatan jumped up and ran to Elijah, Andy rose. Should he go after Abbey or see to Elijah?

  “Andy,” Tahatan called. “Elijah hurt.”

  Swallowing hard and then glancing in the direction Abbey had run, he paused before rushing to his friend’s side.

  With the white moon rising, Andy examined the wound in Elijah’s shoulder. The black man winced when Andy half-turned him over to find an exit wound.

  Elijah reached up with his good arm and caught Andy by the arm. “Find Missus Abbey.”

  Every nerve in Andy’s body ticked like a runaway team of horses. He shook his head. “I see after you first.”

  “No, Tahatan can see after me. You go. Not safe out there for her.”

  Still kneeling by Elijah, he sucked in a breath of gunpowder-laden air. He was torn, but Elijah was right.

  “Can you care for Elijah?”

  Andy grasped his good hand. “Hang on. I find her and get back as soon as I can.”

  Elijah, whispered, “Go.”

  Grabbing his rifle, he ran through the woods dodging branches and low limbs. It took him a couple of minutes to reach Big Red, but it seemed like hours. He mounted the big horse and caught up the reins to the other. He rode to the camp and left the extra horse with Tahatan. He didn’t know if their horses were still there or not, but he couldn’t take a chance of leaving them alone without a horse.

  With the moon lighting the way, it was easy to follow the horse’s tracks as it sped out of camp. He breathed a sigh of relief when she slowed down. It wouldn’t take Big Red long to catch up with her horse walking.

  His relief didn’t last long. Her horse had shied suddenly. The grass was torn.

  Jumping down, Andy examined the tracks. It didn’t take a great tracker to see someone had stopped her horse—one man with large boots. Fear, frustration, and raged all pounded away inside Andy’s head. He had to find Abbey before it was too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lloyd Stephens grumbled to himself as he followed the horses. Darkness was coming on and he didn’t want to be out on the prairie another night—day either for that matter. There was a time when he knew no other life. Sitting in an office in town and sleeping in comfortable beds was the life for him. He liked eating good food he didn’t have to cook. His city life had become habit forming.

  Nor was he used to sitting in a saddle this long, and it was telling on him.

  Even as out of practice as he was, he had no problems following the horses: one, there were too many to miss, but al
so they were traveling at a slow pace. He didn’t understand the pace, but wasn’t complaining about it. If they’d traveled fast, he didn’t think he would be able to walk when he got off the horse.

  He glanced at the sky. The group he was following had about fifteen minutes of daylight left and if they did what they usually did, they’d stop soon and make camp.

  As his horse topped a grass-covered ridge, a bright gleam, about four hundred yards ahead, winked at him. It surprised him how big they made their fires. Anyone could see them for miles. It wasn’t as if it was cold, it was in the middle of summer. He wondered if maybe someone was signaling.

  Looking around, he found an area with some trees and guided the horse to them. As stiff as a board, he swung down. He tied his horse to a bush, unsaddled him, and unrolled his bedroll.

  He leaned back against the tree opened a can of cold beans, took a bite, and grimaced at the taste. What he wouldn’t give for a good steak about then. He shook his head. One more day and if he didn’t have a chance by then, he would turn around. Of course he’d said that yesterday, too.

  His trip had started when he spotted Abbey hurrying to the stable. Why was she rushing to the stable?

  Curious, he watched for several minutes, and then she came out with the nigger, and Milton Patton joined them. Something unusual was up. She wasn’t allowed to go riding, and her father would never allow her to go anywhere with Milton Patton, the man who stood by his own horse, waiting. He scratched his head when the nigger and boy came out and they all mounted and rode out. Now what was that about? Patton was JT’s man. Why would JT have him escorting those three out of town?

  As soon as the question popped into his head, so did the knowledge that Abbey would be out on the prairie. He wouldn’t have a problem getting rid of the others. At last, he’d have her right where he wanted her. When he got his hands on her, she would pay for all the humiliation she’d put him through. Her hide would look a lot better with some blood on it.

  When the group was out of sight, he rushed to his house, threw his bedroll and food together, and saddled his horse. He’d never thought it would take this long. For the twentieth time, he wished he’d gone and asked JT where they were going. If Patton was with them, JT sent him and would know.

  He slung the empty can aside. He couldn’t have a fire his own self. They’d see it.

  Standing, he stretched his back. Before he could sit down, a shot exploded in the night air, and then another.

  His heart leaped into his throat as several more shots blasted. He screamed to himself, “What is going on?”

  Grabbing and cocking his rifle, he leaped behind the nearest tree. As he swallowed a huge lump in his throat, a running horse, hooves pounding in the night, came right at him.

  Fear for Abbey threatened to choke Andy as Big Red followed the trail through the bright moonlight. During the day, the sun had baked the land, but the fall of the sun had not rid the country of the heat. Sweltering steam hung in the air, and the smell of crushed juniper lingered where the horses had stepped.

  Big Red liked the feel of the trail and always had, but sensed from Andy’s voice and the way he sat the saddle that the situation was tense.

  They were in rough country, but the running horses’ tracks were plain to see. Andy turned the horse up a canyon. His heart raced with fear and dread, but not for himself—he would gladly give his life if he knew Abbey would be safe.

  Andy forced his mind away from the woman he loved. It would do her no good if he didn’t find them. So far the man had been running, but he’d have to slow down and try to cover his tracks. From the canyon, the trail of the two horses led into a draw with steep sides overgrown with cottonwoods.

  Boulders and fallen trees littered the path in front of them, causing them to slow, which only increased Andy’s anxiety. Thirty minutes into the chase, Andy stopped Big Red a moment and studied the trail. From the tracks, he was sure the man was trying for distance and speed at first. Then the horses had slowed as though they had to. Running horses this high up in this heat, in country this rough was an invitation to disaster.

  What bothered Andy: he thought the man would try to hide his trail, but he hadn’t done so. In fact, it seemed as if the man wanted to make sure someone followed him. Andy swiped sweat off his face with his sleeve as he studied the trail.

  Every instinct as a tracker—and the Lakota had believed he was the best—told him the man’s actions didn’t make sense. The only thing that did was if he was watching his back trail, and knew someone was following him.

  He’d trailed behind the man long enough to realize he was riding the contours of the land and taking the line of least resistance. The man couldn’t know that if he continued traveling the way he had, his route would take him to Windsong. If he turned south, he would come close to Owl Creek and north to the Cheyenne River.

  Andy stared at the tracks. If he continued this way, he would fall farther and farther behind. He had to follow trail and the man ahead didn’t have to spend the time doing it. Also, Andy had to watch for an ambush. That was the only reason the man would slow as much as he did and not attempt to cover his tracks. This was a country where the man he followed could easily find a place to lay for him.

  Where he was, he didn’t know of another route to Windsong, and if he tried to find another way, he might be wrong. If that happened, he’d lose the trail altogether and may never pick it up. Besides, this guy was taking the easy way. Any other way and the country would get rough.

  Andy knew where he was and where Windsong was. He patted Big Red’s neck. If he continued following, even if he came up to them, he might be too late. He thanked whatever god was there that he’d brought two horses and was able to give Big Red some rest. He was going to need it.

  Using his calves, he squeezed Big Red, and the horse moved forward, but pulled up. A small deer trail crossed in front of him and vanished into the trees to the west, the direction he would need to go.

  He swallowed hard and followed. He was taking a huge gamble.

  Following the deer trail, he guided the horse with his knees. It led him to a narrow cleft between two huge rocks with a narrow space just wide enough for Big Red to pass through.

  Big Red, with mincing steps, inched through the trail as it continued to narrow. Even with the moonlight, the walls on either side were dark, narrow, and ominous.

  The trail wound around and around and it was easy to see how it might exist so long without any human following it. One thing Andy knew, if anyone had in the past ridden or walked it, they had not left any sign of their presence.

  Bathed in sweat and with trouble breathing, Andy stopped the horse as the trail narrowed even further. Finally, he pulled one stirrup up in order for the horse to pass through the opening.

  Time passed and the rocks on either side were seldom more than a few feet above his head. As Big Red maneuvered through them, Andy had to rotate his shoulders to loosen muscles that at times, had to be as hard as the rough rocks all around them.

  When he didn’t think it could get any worse, the rock face dipped down through a dangerous-looking wall.

  Breathing heavily, he hesitated. If he became trapped or hurt here, he would die. But more importantly, so would Abbey. With a fearful glance at the poorly balanced rocks above, he followed the trail.

  Andy’s heart thundered in his chest and his pulse, like lightning, sizzled through him. Even Big Red trembled, and took the trail with great care as they went down. For almost an hour, the trail wound downward.

  Relief, like cold water on a hot day, surged through Andy when they traveled through an opening to a small meadow with a pool at the lowest point.

  Dismounting, Andy staggered, blew out a breath, and then pulled up some grass as the horse drank. He rubbed Big Red down, first on one side, then the other. When he was through, he knelt, gulped down several hands full of cool liquid, and then mounted. As he sat the horse, Big Red turned to look at him with an expression that said, “Y
ou got to be kidding me.”

  He bent forward and patted his neck. “No, boy. We still have a long ways to go.”

  Ahead, a draw opened and he turned Big Red into it. Again he was thankful for the full moon. As if sensing Andy’s problems, the horse increased his speed. On the skyline, far in the distance, a timbered peak jutted up. Andy swallowed hard as he pointed Big Red toward it. If he could reach that point, he might be able to get ahead of them. It was a gamble, but he had to try.

  The country grew rougher and he let the horse have his head. He trusted him especially in this kind of terrain. As they shifted from one canyon to another, dodging tree limbs, they continued to move fast.

  One thing Andy knew, the man who had Abbey would have to rest his horse, or he’d be walking. That was Andy’s one advantage. He’d never seen Big Red tire when he had to have him, as he did now.

  If he did, Andy would never see Abbey alive again. He couldn’t fail.

  As they rode, he remembered her voice, the way she smiled, how her eyes sparkled when she was happy. He’d first met her on the wagon train when he was no more than eight. When they split up, she’d kissed him. That was the moment he’d fallen for her. The time in between then and now had done nothing but intensify those feelings.

  These thoughts did nothing but fill him with desperation, and he kicked Big Red into a lope.

  Several hours passed and Andy sagged in the saddle. An hour before, he’d tied his hands to the saddle horn in case he passed out and fell. Dawn had seen him working on the house at Windsong. Then early morning Wicasa rode in, and Andy left to find Abbey. He’d ridden all day and came up to them just after dark, and then the fight. Now, he’d spent the remainder of the night in the saddle riding over some of the roughest terrain in the entire region.

  He swayed with the movements of Big Red, his clothes black from sweat. His eyes stung as he squinted.

  At last, using his teeth, he untied his hands and swung down. His knees trembled as they attempted to hold his weight up. Wrapping the reins around his hand, he staggered forward. Somewhere in the recesses of his exhausted mind, something told him he had to save the horse. Even with all of the horse’s strength and stamina, he had his limits.