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"What's your plan?" Lester whispered.
Nick kept his face pa.s.sive, but the aggravation was more than clear in his voice. "My plan was to hold them off so you could get away. Since you're so intent on staying here, maybe you'd like to come up with something else."
"Iauha"
"Didn't think so," Nick snapped. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing here anyway?"
After scouring his brain for a suitable lie, the best Lester could come up with was, "Just pa.s.sing through."
"And you just happened to be following me?" Nick asked.
Although Lester managed to shake his head, he couldn't get any words out.
"We can settle that later, I guess," Nick said. "That is, if either of us is drawing breath once this is over."
EIGHTEEN.
The Indians surrounded Nick and Lester without once taking their eyes off of them. Their dark faces were painted spa.r.s.ely with a few lines here and there. Feathers and bits of bone rattled from strings and leather straps hanging from armbands, head-bands and rifle barrels. One of the Indians barked out a few words, which fell upon at least one set of ignorant ears.
"What the h.e.l.l did he just say?" Lester asked.
Nick kept his eyes locked upon the one who'd spoken as he replied, "I'm not sure. Let me try something." With that, Nick uttered a string of syllables that only made Lester wince.
"You speak their language?" Lester asked.
"We'll find out in a moment."
The Indian who'd spoken was of average height and had a lean, powerful build. His face and chest were marked by a few more stripes and symbols than the other riders, whom he commanded with subtle nods or flicks of his hand. After listening to Nick, he seemed to regard him with a bit more interest.
Lester shifted uncomfortably in his saddle and grunted. "Can you get them toa""
"Shut up," Nick snapped.
The leader of the Indians nodded and glanced away from Lester as if he didn't mean to look at him again. Now focused completely upon Nick, he spoke in a low, steady voice.
Nick kept his face calm and his eyes leveled at the lead Indian. In some situations, his mannerisms might have seemed threatening or imposing. In this instance, however, Nick was merely giving what he was getting. He showed strength to the Indians and didn't back away from them, but he also didn't make a move in the wrong direction.
Although he didn't understand every word of what the Indians' leader said, Nick caught enough to have his initial suspicions confirmed. "They're Sioux," Nick said to Lester. "They live in that village and don't like visitors racing through here on their land."
"Don't these Injuns know their d.a.m.n place?" Lester muttered.
A few of the Indians glanced at Lester and tightened their grip on their weapons. Lester noticed this immediately and leaned back in his saddle, while his hand drifted toward the spot where his gun should have been. The fact that his gun wasn't there didn't seem to matter. The Indians responded by raising rifles to shoulders and drawing their arrows back, waiting for the order to attack.
Knowing he had less than a second or two to keep things from boiling over, Nick twisted around in his saddle and did the first thing he could think of. His arm snapped out like a whip, catching Lester across the upper chest. Even though he hadn't intended on hurting the other man, Nick's blow had enough muscle behind it to knock Lester backward until he was wobbling in the saddle.
Lester started to pull himself up again, but slipped and toppled off his horse. Landing with a solid thump, Lester's shoulders slammed against the ground. One leg dangled away from the animal and one foot was snagged in its stirrup.
Wheezing, as most of the breath was knocked from his lungs, Lester struggled to pull his leg free, a steady stream of obscenities flowing from his mouth.
Despite the vulgarities Lester spewed, the Indians seemed anything but offended. In fact, they lowered their weapons and watched Lester's struggle with smiles growing on their faces.
Nick took advantage of the moment by reciting one of the other Sioux phrases he'd learned throughout his years of hiding in Indian country. He knew his grammar wasn't the best, but the effort was appreciated and the riders were more than willing to cut him a little slack.
As a show of good faith, the leader of the Sioux looked at Nick and spoke in words that both of the white men could understand.
"Leave here now and steer away from our sacred grounds."
"No problem," Nick said.
"Where you go from here?"
"Northeast."
The Sioux leader looked in that direction and nodded. "Keep your friend in line and we will let you pa.s.s."
"I'd appreciate that."
Lester watched all of this while still dangling by one leg from his stirrup. After one more tug, he managed to free his ankle so he could drop the rest of the way onto the ground. Just as he was about to get to his feet, Lester saw the Indians ride around him so they could get another look, laughing under their breaths. After satisfying their curiosity, the Indians pointed their horses back toward the village and rode away. Even though he didn't appreciate being the b.u.t.t of a joke, Lester let it pa.s.s.
Nick waited until all the Sioux had gone before climbing down from his saddle and rushing over to Lester. Extending a hand toward the fallen man, Nick said, "Sorry about that, but they would have killed us if they thought you were about to start any trouble."
"I don't even got a gun."
"You were acting like you had one, and that was almost enough to get us killed. I had to let them know I was keeping you in line. Hope it didn't hurt too bad."
Accepting the hand Nick offered, Lester pulled himself to his feet and cautiously put his weight on the foot that had been caught up in the stirrup. "You surprised me more'n anything else," he said, ignoring the throbbing pain in his chest. "And I think I just twisted my ankle. Guess that makes me lucky."
"That makes us both lucky. Why were you following me, anyhow?"
Lester dusted himself off as he struggled to come up with an answer. To buy an additional few seconds, he took a step and winced in pain as if his ankle was bothering him. After all of that, he replied, "I wasn't following you."
"Yes you were," Nick said. "I left the trail, took a few turns after that and you were still behind me when I pa.s.sed that village."
"What I meant was I wasn't meaning to follow YOU. I'm supposed to meet up with a friend of mine from Cheyenne and I mistook you for him."
Nick studied Lester for a few seconds. His hand rested upon the grip of his holstered pistol and remained there as if it hadn't decided what to do next.
Blinking as another thought hit him like a rock against the back of his head, Lester added, "My friend was coming in on a train from California. He must have gotten held up somewhere along the way. At least, I hope he wasn't held up, but you know what I mean."
"Actually," Nick said, "I do know what you mean. It seems like lots of trains were getting stopped in Rock Springs."
"Really? That must be it, then."
Nick nodded, mulling over what he'd heard. Eventually, he took his hand away from his pistol and walked back over to Kazys. "You should probably head back the way you came so you can meet your friend. You may even want to go to Rock Springs, although I'd advise you to wait a day or two. Things should be cleared up there by then."
Climbing into his own saddle, Lester started to speak but was cut off as pain lanced through his leg. In his haste to get onto his horse, he'd put all of his weight onto the ankle that had been snagged in the stirrup.
"You sure you're all right?" Nick asked.
Lester nodded and took a few breaths to steady himself. "Yeah. I was just hoping you'd let me ride with you for a piece."
Glancing toward the village, Nick saw that the Sioux had already stopped and formed a line that was well within range for rifle and bow shots. "We're still being watched," Nick warned. "I don't think those Sioux are anxious for a fight, but they're plenty anxious for us to leave."
"Then let's get the h.e.l.l out of here," Lester said. "I just don't want to ride all the way back to Rock Springs when my friend is probably waiting for me in the opposite direction."
Despite the things that came to Nick's mind, the main thing he could think about was the group of Sioux that were watching them like hawks. Even when he'd ridden with killers and vigilantes, Nick had learned to never turn his nose up at Indian hospitality. Favors like that didn't come along too often and they were never to be taken lightly.
"Fine," Nick said quickly. "Just keep your hands where they can be seen and don't even think about straying from my side. There's a burial ground not far from here and if we so much as look at it, we're in for a war."
"Lead on, my friend. Lead on."
Despite the reservations he had, Nick led on. He kept Lester beside him and the Sioux's horses in his sight for as long as he could. The Indians barely even moved as Nick and Lester rode away. They remained in their formation until both men's horses had built up some speed. When Nick looked behind him again, the Sioux were gone.
Just to be on the safe side, Nick kept riding into the Badlands. It was rugged and beautiful country, which he'd pa.s.sed through several times. Still, for every stretch of land that he knew like the back of his hand, there was another stretch that Nick didn't even recognize.
In his younger years, Nick and Barrett had used the Badlands as their own personal refuge. It was a good spot for meeting up with other members of his gang to plan jobs or split up the fruits of their labor. It was also easy to charge through and shake off anyone following them in much the same way that Nick had shaken Lester.
Even now, Nick glanced around at the rocky terrain and picked out caves where he could sleep and peaks he could use as lookout posts. The land hadn't changed much in the time that he'd been away. It was still a dangerous ride for anyone who didn't know their way, and a haven for everyone else. Barrett had loved the Badlands. That was why Nick had buried him there.
Steering Kazys toward a gravel-covered ridge, Nick pulled back on his reins and brought the horse to a stop. Lester was more than happy to follow suit.
"This is where we part ways," Nick said.
Lester blinked and looked around as if he was expecting another ambush. "What? Here? We're in the middle of nowhere!"
"I gave you the chance to leave before, but you didn't take it."
"I know, but that was when them Injuns were about to kill us," Lester whined.
"They're not going to kill us as long as we don't stray where we're not supposed to be."
"And where's that?"
"Just go back the way you came," Nick said. "Ride straight past that village without looking cross-eyed at it and you'll be fine."
"And what if they ride up on me again?"
Guiding Kazys away from the ridge and back toward the narrow trail, Nick replied, "Fall out of your saddle again. They seemed to think that was pretty funny."
"Hilarious. You d.a.m.n near got my leg snapped in two."
"Better than your neck," Nick said in a tone that was colder than the bottom of a frozen lake.
Rather than try to bargain or plead any more, Lester stayed put and let Nick go. Although his mouth was still, his brain was chugging like the piston of a steam engine. He squeezed the reins tightly and shifted his feet in the stirrups. His eyes snapped back and forth quicker and quicker as Nick moved farther away.
Finally, Lester managed to spit out a few desperate words.
"I know where you're headed!"
Nick was just snapping his reins to get Kazys to jump a small pit where a piece of the trail had broken off. He landed on the other side, turned and said, "I know you do. I've mentioned it a few times."
"Not just which direction. I know the spot you're looking for. It's the spot where Barrett Cobb is buried."
Nick pulled back on his reins so quickly that Kazys shook his head to protest the bit pulling at the corners of his mouth. Nick sat in the saddle like a statue that had been chiseled out of ice. "What the h.e.l.l do you know about Barrett?" he growled.
At first, Lester had felt relieved when Nick stopped. Now he wished the other man was safely moving away from him again. Doing his best to keep his chin up and the fear from his face, Lester said, "I heard he was buried not too far from here."
"Who told you?"
"Some friends of mine."
Nick was across the gap and within inches of Lester's face in the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat. "That's why you're here? To defile a grave?"
"Considering what's buried in there with him, Cobb himself shouldn't have been too surprised that there'd be folks coming after him."
"What do you know about it?"
"Just that him and his gang pulled off one h.e.l.l of a job before he was killed, and none of the stolen jewels were ever found."
Nick furrowed his brow slightly and leaned forward less than half an inch. His movements were slow and didn't cover much s.p.a.ce, but Lester pulled back as if he'd found himself in front of a rockslide.
"And how do you know so much about Barrett's last job?" Nick asked. "Are you a lawman?"
"h.e.l.l no." Lester gulped. "But I can read a newspaper. Anyone in this part of the country has either heard something about that job or something about the search for Cobb or his gang. When n.o.body found anything or anybody, word started to spread."
"Rumors," Nick grumbled, as if he'd just uttered a profanity.
"You should know all about that."
Nick nodded to himself and looked Lester up and down. Letting out a breath, he eased back in his saddle and took on a more relaxed posture. Nick let his eyes wander just until he could see Lester following his lead and relaxing as well. That way, when he snapped his hand out to grab Lester by the front of his shirt, Nick was sure to put a fresh scare into him.
"Don't lie to me again and don't take me for a fool," Nick snarled. "That is, unless you want me to shoot you full of holes and leave your carca.s.s for the Indians."
Lester shook his head vigorously until his hat toppled off. "I wouldn't dream of it!"
"Either you were a friend of Barrett's or you were chasing after him, because no newspaper stories are that detailed."
"I wasn't after himaor you! I swear."
Nick asked, "Do you know who I am?"
Lester winced as he realized just how far ahead of his brain his mouth had been running. "Yeah, I know who you are. My cousins live not too far from here. There's been plenty of talk about you and Cobb after all the shootings and such over the last few years."