Authors: Nancy Radke
“And I think I was just as wet. I hope none of that happens this
trip,” he added.
“What do you make of the dust and the roughness of the country?”
asked the newspaper man.
“You’re asking the wrong woman those questions. I’ve walked across
Tennessee and part of Kentucky. Dirt don’t bother me. Neither does rough
country.”
That evening we stopped at a small station where they had food
for us and fresh horses.
Travers jumped down and came to me, tail wagging slowly. “So you
decided to ride, did you?” I looked over to Gage, who was tending to the stock.
He seemed right at home with the harnesses and the reins, helping get the new
team hitched up.
Travers took off, following his nose, and I hoped the game he
found was wild and not part of the small farm that was being used as a station.
Gage came and joined us for the quick meal, sitting beside me at
the table.
He had washed and cleaned up and was the most presentable man
there.
“It’s good to have you along, Gage. How did you get hired on as
an outrider?”
“Asked.”
I waited for him to say more, but I guess he could be quiet when
he chose to be. “Where were you during the war?” I asked.
“Out on the western front. I was riding for the Confederates.
They wanted men who knew the frontier.” He paused, shook his head. “I pray we
never have another war where brother fights brother. You know, Trey almost shot
your cousin, Matthew. Shook him up.”
“I guess it would. He and Matthew were close. They were always
racing their horses and seein’ whose mule could pull the most.”
“I remember. Always competing. But let anyone else challenge
them and they teamed up like two geese defending a baby chick.”
“You say Trey almost shot Matthew?”
“He saw Matthew sneaking back to his lines after a battle, and
he rode over and cut him off. Had his gun out ready to fire, if’n Matthew
hadn’t stopped and give up. A prize, for Matthew was a reb colonel.”
“What did Trey do?”
“Ordered him back to camp to interrogate him, then send him on
to Morton. He said he gave orders to tie Matthew up, and had dismounted when
the reb called him by name.”
“That would’ve shocked him.”
“He was shocked by how much weight Matthew had lost. And he knew
if he sent Matthew to Morton, he probably wouldn’t live out the war.”
“What did he do?”
“He had Matthew brought to his tent for questioning, and untied
him so he could eat. Naturally, Matthew wouldn’t tell him any battle plans, but
they spent a few moments talking about family and what had happened to the ones
they knew about. Several were killed, including one of your other brothers,
Harris. You knew about that, didn’t you?”
I swallowed. “No, but Jonas thought so. He never sent word
back.”
Now
I knew.
“Anyway, Trey left Matthew untied and turned his back long
enough for him to slip away. Trey said his superior officer was fit to be tied,
but the private who Trey left guarding Matthew had no explanation as to how he
got away.”
“When did you meet up with Trey?”
“After the war. I was riding to Ft. Kearney, and met Trey on the
trail, chasing some men who had tried to kill him. They’d stolen his horses and
outfit. He sent some items with me, back to his wife at the fort.”
“It seems strange to know that Trey is married.”
“To a fine gal. Mally Buchanan. Lived close to where my folks
lived. She’s purt near your age. When you’ve had enough of California, I’ll
take you to see them. They’re up north, in the Blue Mountains. I’m sure Trey
would marvel-like to see his sister.”
“I’ll think about that,” I said. I didn’t tell him I was looking
for my Boaz, for men would probably think something like that very strange.
After we ate the driver gathered us passengers around and asked
who could shoot.
“We’ve never had an Indian attack, mainly ‘cause we use mules
through Indian territory, and they’d rather have the horses. Still I always
reckon it’s better to know who can shoot and who can’t before the fighting
starts.”
We walked out to a place where he’d set up some tin cans. He had
some rifles propped up next to a stump, including mine. Now I never did much
target shooting, as we didn’t waste bullets in the mountains. Here was
something to shoot that didn’t shoot back or run away. It hit me as funny.
“My money’s on the lady,” Gage said. “Those targets are too big
and too close.” He moved the shooting line back about ten feet and handed
me my rifle.
“Show ‘em how it’s done, Ruth.”
I didn’t want him to make any money on me, and glared at him.
“Come on. I know Trey taught you. You wouldn’t let him down now,
would you?”
Well, he had me there. I picked up my rifle, checked the rounds,
then blasted the furthest can into the air and shot it as it was comin down for
good measure. Then I handed the rifle back to the driver and stepped back.
“Oh, my. I’m glad I didn’t bet,” said the much-traveled gent. He
picked up a rifle and shot a can, then handed it to the next man. Most hit what
they were aiming for, including one of the portly gents. The other one declined
to even touch the guns. “I can load, if someone shows me how,” he said.
“This is better than usual,” the driver said. “If we have to
shoot, I know you can do it.”
“I haven’t seen any sign of Indians,” said one of the
passengers. I looked at Gage and could tell by his expression that he had.
I got out my cleaning kit and commenced to clean the barrel,
wrapping it up afterwards to keep sand out of it, then checking the rounds. It
was the rifle Trey had used to teach me, when I could just ‘bout steady the
weight. I’d do anything big brother asked of me, and he took all of us kids out
into the woods and made sure we could hunt and fish and handle firearms
correctly. Our table never went bare, no matter how tough times got. And that
double shooting was for shooting a duck on the pond and a second one in the
air.
I knew Gage could shoot like that, for I’d seen him. Trey told
me I was a natural shooter, for some folks try and never really learn. I just
looked at what I was shooting at and hit it, like I was pointing my finger at
it. If I tried to aim, I’d miss it, so I never bothered bringing the
rifle up to my face. Just pointed and shot.
Trey told me never to aim, so I didn’t.
“Miss, with your dog and your gun, I reckon the men will just
weed themselves out for you,” the driver said as we got back in the stage to
leave.
I looked my question.
“Ain’t none but a very confident man goin to try for your hand.
Still, you be careful in ‘Frisco. There’s some mighty mean men thar, lowlife
who act like they’re the prime of the earth. I won’t want you fallin for one of
them. Even these men. They may not be what they seem. That one,” he pointed at
Gage, “he watches you all the time. You be careful of him.”
I was looking for my Boaz, and he would be the prime of the
earth. I just had to find him.
We traveled all day and all night, every night. I felt like a
rug that had been hung over a limb and whacked clean with willow branches. Just
twenty-two days, they’d told me. Twenty-two days until we reached Frisco. The
stage was not a comfortable way to travel, but watching some people being
jostled on the wagon seats as they went by made me realize the stage handled
the ruts bettern’ most. It swayed side to side rather than up and down.
The portly gent who couldn’t shoot was from England. He and one
man who had been a sailor said it was like riding a boat in the ocean. I
wouldn’t know, but I did find out what sea-sickness felt like.
The road was being used by freight wagons and every sort of
conveyance, and some of the ruts were getting mighty deep. The wheels on all
the vehicles were not the same apart, so we’d run along a rut for awhile,
bounce out of it and drop into a different set.
We had to sleep where we were sitting and eat whatever they had
to feed us. On the second day, they switched to mules. When we got ready to
start again, Travers ran up to the stage and sat down, looking up at the top
pile of luggage. One of the Wells Fargo men reached down to pick him up and he
growled at him.
Then Gage rode over, jumped down, grabbed Travers by the scruff
of the neck, put a hand under his rump, and heaved him in the air. That dog
flew up to the top and landed amid the luggage, just like a suitcase thrown up
there. He settled himself down for the day behind the new driver who was to
take us over this stretch.
Gage saw me watching and made me a courtly bow. I laughed. If
Travers allowed Gage to do that to him, I figured he’d allow him most anything
and it set my mind to ease.
We humped and bumped our way to the next station. Once we
crossed a river where they had built a bridge for the coach. We all got out and
walked while the driver took the stage across. Looking down at that swiftly
moving water, I knew I sure didn’t want to be trapped in no coach if it went
in. The bridge was narrow, barely wide enough for the coach itself, and looked
like it would float away with any good flood.
The smaller streams, we splashed across. The deeper ones, Gage
and the other outrider would throw their ropes on the upstream side of the
coach and hold it steady while we crossed.
The driver had a little bugle that he’d blow when we got close
to a station, alerting the men there to get the teams ready. He’d blow it again
just before we pulled up. They had the team ready to switch, and we jumped out
of the coach, stretched our legs and jumped back in. They didn’t waste any
time, especially on the passengers. The mail was the important thing, for the
government paid them a lot to make sure it was delivered in less than
twenty-five days.
That afternoon we pulled into a station, the driver tooting his
bugle the second time, and suddenly Travers barked, a deep throated warning
that had the driver speeding up rather than slowing down. As we galloped by,
men spilled out of the station house and barn, shooting.
Things happened fast. They had expected us to stop, but with
Travers’ warning, we kept right on going and spoiled their plans. They had
their horses hidden out back, and soon were racing after us.
I saw Gage ride up next to the coach and jump aboard. He kept
those mules running all out, throwing those of us inside around like seeds in a
pod. He turned onto a knoll where he stopped them and jumped down. The stage
was all katty-wonkered and hard to climb out of, but we didn’t waste any
time. Gage handed out the rifles as the other outrider dropped off his
horse and commenced firing. “Don’t shoot unless you can see something,” he said.
“How’s the driver?” I asked, as Gage dropped down next to me.
“Killed or almost. Couldn’t tell.”
We both shot at the same time, at men who had decided to work
their way closer. That wised them up, and they stopped moving down
there.
Gage had put us in a good defensive position, above the men who
sought to rob the stage. We were all hunkered down behind rocks, well
protected. They had only a ravine where they could creep up on us. And Gage and
I had just made that ditch very unpopular.
The stage mules were getting a rest, but we all needed water.
One of the passengers crawled back to the stage and took off the water bags. He
checked out the driver while he was there and gave him a drink and bandaged him
up. Then he crawled around above each of us and tossed the water bag down. We’d
get a good drink, then toss it back to him to take to the next. It was the
portly gent from England who said he couldn’t shoot, but he’d found what was
needed and was doing it.
Travers came over and plopped himself down next to me.
“Good dog, Travers,” I said. “You warned us just...”
His hackles raised, and with a low growl he looked over at an
adjoining ridge.
“They’re trying to sneak around and get above us,” Gage said,
loudly enough for the rest to hear. “Shoot anything that twitches near the
notch of that rock.”
Since I didn’t have to aim, I just pointed and shot when I saw a
blur go by. A yell made me think I’d hit something. A ricochet could do more
damage than a bullet, so I just squeezed off a few more rounds in that
direction. Gage pulled out and circled around, and soon I heard some pistol
shots, then saw his rifle extended and waving from that area.
“Don’t shoot him. That’s Gage up there.” I put one more shot
down the ravine when a knee got stuck out too far, and a scream told me I’d hit
it.
We sat and baked in the hot sun until it commenced to set. There
was no way they were going to sneak up on us with Travers watching.
It was a ragtag bunch of outlaws. They had probably figured the
stage passengers to be easy pickins, but people could use a gun in that country
and knew how to defend themselves. The outlaws must have hit the station just
as the workers were getting the mules ready for us to come in. It was a swing
station where there was a team change only.
It got dark, but not too dark and someone on the other side of
me shot and I heard a curse as the outlaw group pulled out.
A few minutes later, Gage called out and then came in.
“Let’s go back to the station and see if there’s anyone there
needing help,” he said. “Any of you able to drive the coach?”
“I can,” the much-traveled gent said. He climbed up onto the
seat, we brought the driver inside and all got in or on the top.
Then with Gage and Travers leading the way, we worked our way
back off that knoll, back down to the road and then to the station.
They hadn’t bothered to tie up the station man, just shot him
and left him for dead. His helper had fled to the rocks and had come back to
see to him. They had been so intent on chasing the stage that they hadn’t taken
the change of mules, so we did the changing and put the wounded station keeper
and the driver inside the coach to take them on to the fort, which was the next
stop.
Jack, the much-traveled man, drove. Five of the other men sat on
top of the stage with Travers, who by now had accepted all of them.
Gage and the other outrider changed horses at each team change,
for one horse couldn’t a-took that trip at that pace and lived. I wondered how
we would make it. We press hard and made the fort before nightfall.
The Fort consisted of a few buildings placed so they could be
easily defended. We ate there. Gage ran into one of his friends from the war,
and they proceeded to do some recollecting of those days.
Gage had evidently been an army courier, carrying messages
across the western frontier for the Confederates. I sat there resting, Travers
beside me, and listened to them talk.
“With the war over, I got an early discharge,” Gage said. “Went
down the Oregon Trail with Trey Trahern and his wife...”
“Major Trahern?”
“Yes.”
“Union, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“I thought he might stay in the army.”
“Not Trey. Got him a woman and is now ranching.
“How ‘bout you?”
“I’m catching me a woman, then I’ll try my hand at ranching,
too.”
“You shouldn’t have any trouble getting yourself a wife. The
gals must fall all over you.”
“Not the one I want.”
“Hum,”
I thought. “
So Gage has got himself a gal all picked out. I wonder if she’s
in California. He hasn’t mentioned her, but he wouldn’t unless I knew her.”
One of the portly men walked up to me—the one who could
shoot and was the more talkative. “Ma’am, I’d like to give your dog a big meaty
bone. I reckon we would’ve been caught flat-footed at that station if he hadn’t
warned the driver. I don’t figure he’ll take it from me, so I’ll give it to
you. There’s gold being found in California, and my bank has to have cash to
buy it from the miners. So they loaded up my suitcases and sent me west as a
passenger. Someone must have heard about it. I’m afraid I might have made us a
target, and I’m sorry you were caught in this. Although I do think you
got at least two or three of them.”
“Nicked them good,” I agreed.
“Made them wish they had chosen another profession,” he added.
“I’ll give Travers some of my vittles. I don’t want him eating
just anything.” Now I could see no reason why the man would want to poison
Travers, but I’d been warned by Mr. Debras.
I took the bone he had wrapped in a paper and tossed it out for
the coyotes.
It bothered me, that he’d told me about the money. A secret
shared is no longer a secret, and I wondered if the reason someone had targeted
this coach to rob was because this man was too loose with his tongue.
After a supper of dried jerky and something they called soup, I
asked Gage if he’d accompany me outside while I let Travers run for a minute.
It wasn’t that I needed company, but I decided if someone else was going to try
to rob this coach, Gage at least should be prepared.
We stepped outside together and walked away from the buildings.
Gage took my hand. “It’s nice to get you alone, Ruth,” he said.
“Yes. We need to talk. You know the heavy-set man who does a lot
of talking? He told me he has suitcases full of money that he’s taking to a
bank in California, so they can buy some of the gold being found.”
He dropped my hand and turned to face me. “What?”
“He thinks that’s why we were hit today. I figured you needed to
know to be extra alert. And why would he tell me? That’s strange in itself.”
“How did it happen?”
“He wanted to give Travers a bone. I don’t want the dog to get
used to taking things from other people. Mr. Debras said some people might try
to poison him.”
“What did you do with the bone?”
“Threw it out into the brush for the coyotes. Oh, my.”
“Call him back.”
“Travers. Come!”
He came loping back and I felt thankful that it was not from the
direction I’d thrown the bone. I looked at that dog and he sort of grinned at
me. He was probably all right.
“I don’t know if he would have chewed on it or not,” I told
Gage. “He prefers to kill his own food. Anyway, that man was all apologetic.
Wanted to give the dog a bone and tell me why we were attacked.”
“Maybe he was just trying to impress you.”
“Well, he didn’t. That was a foolish thing for him to do. I
wonder how many other people he’s told?”
“One too many, if he’s telling the truth. All they have to
do is stop us at a steep place where the mules have to slow down. We wouldn’t
be able to outrun them. The only reason we made it today was because Travers
let us know something was wrong. If the stage had stopped, we might all be
dead.”
“You saved us, by pulling the stage onto a knoll and getting us
all out before they had a chance to run us down.”
“True. But next time, they’ll try something different. In the
stage, you have no chance at all. You can shoot out, but those stage walls
aren’t made to keep out bullets. If the bullets start flying around, those of
you inside will be like ducks on a pond. We need to get you out of the stage
and onto a horse. You can ride, can’t you?”
“Yes. Not like you can, but I’d stay on. I rode Trey’s horse,
whenever he’d let me.”
The only times I’d seen Gage in the mountains was when he’d ride
to our house, all dandied up, to court Mary. She flirted with him, but we all
knew he was a wandering man with no staying around in him, so even she didn’t
take him seriously.
But I was taking him serious now. He had picked up a heap of
knowledge drifting around the country, and he knew how to handle himself in a
fight. So if he told me I was safer on a horse than in the stage, I took his
word.
“A horse means you can move, fast. And if there’s anyone out,
shooting riders, they’ll see you’re a woman and not shoot you. Hopefully. But
they can’t see you in the coach, so if they shoot into it, you can be as dead
as the gent next to you.”
“Should we wait here for the next coach?”
“I hadn’t thought about that. There might not be room for you to
ride in it, and then we’d have to wait longer. And who’s to say it won’t get
attacked?”
“What should I do, Gage?”
“Does that skirt of yours allow riding?”
“Yes. It’s my traveling skirt. It has a split in it so I can
ride if I need to.”
“Thought I’d noticed that. I’ll see if’n I can buy you a horse
for the rest of the trip. And a saddle. You can carry your rifle with you. That
was too awkward, having to give people the rifles when we were attacked. Slowed
down our response.
“Think about it,” he added. “If’n you were shooting for the
greatest effect, would you rather shoot at one person or a bunch all grouped
together?”
“Grouped,” I said. “Like we would be if we stayed inside the
coach.”
“It gives a false sense of security.”
“Is there anything else we could do? Suppose they hit us
tomorrow, before we get me a horse?”
“A distraction? I could rearrange the luggage, put some of that
gent’s money on the top. The driver could open one up and heave it off. Might
make the robbers stop to gather it.”
“At least open the cases and make sure he wasn’t just
blow-harding me.”
“Well, I signed on to help protect the passengers and the coach.
I’ll talk to the Wells Fargo men who are here at the station, including the
driver. I’ll do what they ask, if it’s reasonable. When a shipment of gold or
money goes through, there should be guards and no passengers. But I don’t think
they do it that way. The freight would probably cost more to ship.”
I turned to go back inside and Gage caught my hand.
“Thank you, Ruth,” he said, giving it a firm squeeze. “You may
have saved all our lives by speaking up.”
I caught his gaze in the lights from the windows. His eyes were
serious. Not the dancing, teasing look he used to give me. This was the look of
a mature man. A man who knew how to fight. A different Gage than I had ever
known.
He opened the door for me and I went inside, Travers with me. I
could leave our safety up to Gage. I knew he’d be able to handle it, if anyone
could. He’d been the one to bring the coach to a better defensive position
before the outlaws could get close. He was the one who got us out of the stage
and armed. He had given the orders that had saved our lives.
While we were waiting for the new driver to come through to
replace the one who’d been shot, Gage and one of the soldiers removed all the
wheels plus the extra wheel that was tied onto the coach, and soaked them to
make the wooden spokes swell and fit more firmly in the iron rims. I knew they
didn’t want a wheel flying off if we had to make a run for it. As soon as the
driver came, they replaced them and we got into the coach. Gage had the
heavyset man, who had proved how well he could shoot, move up and sit shotgun
beside the driver. And he handed each of us our rifles, loaded, and extra
ammunition.