Savage. Part 55

"Blast you, Jesse!" I shouted.

She smiled down at us. "No call to get riled there, Trevor. Howdy, Barney."

"Howdy yourself, Miss Jesse."

"Hope you folks didn't wear yourselves out." With that, she stood up and turned her back to us. She dropped out of sight for a spell, then came walking around from behind the boulder with General in tow. In spite of the cheery words she'd thrown at us from up above, she had a rather sheepish look about her. To Barney, she said, "Mighty kind of you to show Trevor the way."

"Saved his feet some, I reckon." He smiled at me. "You can thank me, now. Gotcha to her."

"I'm very grateful. Thank you ever so much."

"Well, I heard me a good story outa the deal. You two take care, now." He touched the brim of his hat.

"You're not leaving?" I asked.

"Yep. Done what I aimed to do. Got no room in my plans to hunt after Apache Sam or Whittle or none of their ilk. I always figured it's a sight more healthy to shy away from trouble than to go looking for it. So it's adios adios, kids. Try and keep alive."

He wheeled Joey around and trotted off.

"Thank you again!" I called after him.

He gave his hat a wave in the air. Then the trail curved around behind some rocks and he was out of sight.

I turned to face Jesse.

"Now don't you look at me that way," she said. "I only just did what I had to. Surprised you didn't think of it first and take off on me me last night." last night."

"I thought of it," I admitted. "But I had more sense than to do do it. That was mighty lowdown and ornery." it. That was mighty lowdown and ornery."

"Well, it worked. You're here and so am I. How'd you get Barney to come along?"

"He was quite willing to help, soon as I explained what you'd done. He said you must be touched."

"I just didn't aim to get left out, that's all."

"I wasn't aiming to leave you out."

"Was, too. I know you, Trevor Bentley. Ain't no way you would've struck out after Whittle without you got rid of me first." She jammed her hands onto her hips and shoved her face at me. "Am I wrong or am I right? You tell me, now."

"I wouldn't have dodged off and left you alone."

"Don't go saying I left you alone. You was with Barney."

"I wouldn't have left you with Barney, either. I wouldn't have left you, at all. We're 'pardners,' remember? Partners stick together."

She let her hands drop away from her hips. Her head lowered. Voice soft, she said, "Well, I knew you'd come along."

"I didn't want you anywhere near this place."

"I know that."

"It's only 'cause I care so much about you."

"I know."

Reaching down, I took hold of her hands and gave them a squeeze. She raised her head. Her eyes looked awfully solemn.

"I don't want Whittle getting you," I said.

"Well, that goes both ways. I don't want him getting you, either, but you need to face him down. If you back out and call it quits, you won't never feel right about yourself. I don't want that for you. And I don't wanta be the cause of it. You turned away from Tombstone on account of me."

"That had to do more with Sarah than..."

"It had mostly to do with Whittle, and you know it. You figured you'd rather give up on him than take a risk of me getting hurt. Well, I went along with it yesterday. But that was selfish. That was me wanting to keep you from Sarah, even if it meant you had to call it quits on your hunt for Whittle. It was wrong. For the both of us. I'm just almighty glad Barney came along so we'd get a chance to do the right thing."

"What if it is is Apache Sam up there?" I asked, tipping my head toward the mountain looming above us. Apache Sam up there?" I asked, tipping my head toward the mountain looming above us.

"Then we'll help the posse kill Apache Sam. After he's taken care of, we'll start after Whittle. We'll go back to Tombstone, if that's what it takes. But we'll pick up his trail, one way or another, and follow it till we've run him down. You and me. Together."

"I don't know," I murmured.

"What's not to know?"

"I don't want you getting killed, Jesse. I shouldn't be able to stand it."

She gave my hands a squeeze. A corner of her mouth turned up, and a glimmer of her usual mischief came back into her eyes. "I ain't easily killed," she said. "Nor are you, either. We'll be fine and dandy."

"I do hope so."

"You worry too much, Trevor Bentley."

"McSween once told me that very thing. He's dead."

Jesse leaned forward a bit and kissed my mouth. "Come on," she said. "We've got us a cave to find."

CHAPTER FIFTY.

Troubles in Monster Valley I tossed the saddlebags across General's back. I filled my hat with water from the mule-gut bag, and let him drink some. We strung both rifles together and draped them over his back so we wouldn't need to lug them ourselves. Then we led him along the trail.

By and by, we came upon a trail going up the mountain. It was steep, and hitched its way back and forth up the rocky slope. I'd had some experiences with such switching trails, and didn't look forward to it.

"Must be the way up," Jesse said.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

She didn't say a thing, but threw me a smirk. Then she commenced to slog her way up the trail.

I followed, leading General by the reins.

Soon, Jesse stopped and pointed down at a pile of manure. "The posse came this way, all right," she said.

"Was it headed up or down?" I asked.

"It's a heap of dung, Trev, not a Western Union telegram."

"Then what makes you say it was dropped by the posse?"

"It was dropped by a horse. Posses ride horses, don't they?"

"So do Bible salesmen, don't they?"

"You watch yourself or I'll sling it at you."

As we continued to plug our way up the trail, we came upon several more collections of manure. Obviously, they hadn't all been left behind by the same horse. So I judged that Jesse was right: the posse had come this way. More than likely, anyhow.

I sure hoped that the horses had made their deposits on the way down. I hoped that the posse had finished its business at the cave and departed. Taking the bodies of the women with them. Taking Whittle's body, too. Or Apache Sam's, if he was the culprit. I hoped that we would find nothing above us but an empty cave.

According to books I'd read, caves were supposed to be cool and pleasant, even where the weather outside is boiling hot. I hoped the books were right.

Even though the sun was low, it hadn't lost much of its heat. The sweat fairly poured off me. Jesse's shirt was wet and clinging to her back. We both huffed considerable, but we didn't stop. A cave sounded like just the trick for cooling us off.

Well, the trail went up and up, and so did we.

Every now and again, we stopped to rest and drink. We drank from the whiskey bottle in General's saddle bag. When it went empty on us, we filled it with more water from the tube of mule gut that was roped to his back. The tube was quite full. Jesse explained that she had filled it up that morning at a stream.

We rested often, but not for long. We had to add more water to the whiskey bottle twice.

At last, the trail took us over a summit of sorts. We ran into a good stiff wind that felt mighty good. Halting, we studied the area ahead.

We weren't at the top of the mountain. In front of us, the ground dropped off into a sunless, shallow valley, all rocky and bare, not a tree or bush growing anywhere. The valley was all aclutter with boulders and columns and high heaps of rock, chock full of narrow pa.s.ses. An army might've been hiding down there out of sight.

n.o.body was was in sight. Not a man, not a horse. in sight. Not a man, not a horse.

There was no sign of a trail, either.

Beyond the gloom of the valley, the upper region of the mountain stretched itself into the sunlight. It didn't have just one peak, but seven or eight. A couple of them stuck up taller than the others, so they rather looked like fangs. I could see why the mountain had gotten itself called Dogtooth.

"Where's that cave at?" Jesse asked.

"Somewhere across there, I should think." I nodded at the valley.

"Sure is a nasty piece of land," she said.

"The valley of the shadow of death."

"Don't go getting odd, Trevor."

"Looks like a place where monsters might lurk."

Jesse gave me a jab with her elbow. "Quit that. Ain't no monsters down there. You're giving me the fantods."

"Sorry," I said, and took the bottle out of the saddle bag. We each drank some water.

As I tucked the bottle away, Jesse pulled out the revolver that she'd taken off the German. She thumbed open its port and turned the cylinder until it showed an empty chamber.

We'd both been keeping only five rounds in our guns, leaving a chamber bare under the hammer to avoid mishaps. While I watched, Jesse dug a cartridge out of her pocket. Her hand trembled some as she plugged it into the cylinder.

I added a sixth round to each of my Colts, then holstered them again.

Jesse kept hers in hand. She started down the slope toward that awful valley.

"Perhaps I ought to take the lead," I suggested.

"Don't see as it matters," she said. "We're as likely to get jumped from behind as the front."

Or from above, I thought.

I let Jesse stay ahead of me as we made our way down. I judged as how that was for the best, actually. If I took the front, I'd have General between me and Jesse. I wanted no obstacle in the middle to block my field of fire. If it should come to that.

We left the wind behind. And the sunlight. Even before we reached the floor of the valley, my back felt all ap.r.i.c.kle. The nape of my neck crawled.

"I must say I don't care for this."

"How'd Whittle ever find himself such a place?" Jesse asked.

"If it's only Apache Sam, shall we leave?"

She glanced over her shoulder and cast a smile at me. It was as nervous a smile as I'd ever seen on her.

All too soon, we found ourselves at the bottom of the valley. I stayed close to Jesse's back as we made our slow way in among the rocks. They walled us in. They loomed over us. They stood in front of us, blocking our path so we had to go around them.

Except for our footsteps and General clomping along behind me, all I could hear was the wind gusting about. Sometimes, it made a whishy noise like a rushing stream. Other times, it seemed to moan. The sounds of it surrounded us. But stayed high and far away. The wind never came down to where we were. There, the air was still and hot.

It seemed a bit unnatural, actually.

As I followed Jesse through the labyrinth, I couldn't help but think about Whittle bringing his victims through such a strange, forbidding place.

And no birds sing.

He'd likely kept them alive till he got them to the cave. It plain sickened me to imagine the terror they must've felt.

In front of me, Jesse froze.