When it got light enough to see detail, I was mildly surprised to find two death wounds on Ira’s head.

Phoebe pulled me away from the others and said, “Wayne did that?”

“Yup.”

“But how?”

“I told you he’s an uncommon good rock chucker.”

“You expect me to believe he hurled a large stone at this man’s head, in the dark, and hit it, and then threw another so quickly and accurately that he hit him a second time? Before Ira had time to fall down?”

“Less you got a better explanation, that’s how I see it,” I said.

“Well, that’s preposterous!” Phoebe exclaimed.

“Is that some sort of fancy cuss word?”

“No. But what Monique said earlier was reprehensible.”

“Wait—you speak French?”

“And Spanish, and Latin, if you care to know.”

“Not many folks speak Latin around here,” I said.

She paused. “Well, no, of course not.”

“Maybe you can teach ’em to speak it in Newton,” I said, helpfully.

She gave out a sigh of exasperation.

“No one actually speaks Latin,” she said.

“Oh. I thought you said you did.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Let’s just forget the Latin part, shall we?”

“Okay.”

I saddled my horse. “Can I ask you about the French words Monique said?”

“I’ll not repeat them, if that’s what you mean.”

“No need. It’s just that those are the first words she spoke the whole trip that I could hear.”

“So?”

“I thought they sounded right beautiful.”

“You would.”

I put the rest of my gear on Major, slid my rifle into the scabbard, and looked around to see who needed the most help gettin’ ready. Turned out to be Phoebe. While I helped her saddle her horse, I said, “Would you ever consider speakin’ a few words of proper French to me?”

“Perhaps I should. Then maybe you and Wayne could communicate.”

“What?” I was thunderstruck. “You sayin’ Wayne—I mean, Shrug—speaks French?”

Three feet away, a piece of rock exploded for no apparent reason. Then I heard the gunshot that caused it and realized we were bein’ attacked by Indians.

 


 

 

 

14.

 

“Jesus, wake the snakes!” Gentry shouted.

“Nous allons tous mourir!” Monique screamed.

“Stop screamin’!” I yelled.

“Well, you’re screaming!” Emma shouted.

Another bullet struck the dirt between Phoebe and me.

“Light a shuck for that overhang!” I yelled. “When you get there, squat down and tuck in deep to give ’em a smaller target. If they start shootin’ from the other ridge, turn and run behind them rocks over yonder!”

Another shot landed near Gentry’s horse.

Scarlett!”

“Yes sir?”

“Help me get the horses under the trees. If they shoot our mounts, it’ll be a long walk to Springfield.”

“Yes sir!”

Five additional shots were fired as we got the horses under cover. I looked up to the crest of the western ridge and spotted four braves, and guessed there were probably a few more dug in among the crags and crevices.

“Scarlett, you’d best stay here,” I said. “I’ll draw their attention.”

“I’ll come with you, Emmett, if you need help.”

I looked at the big-boned gal with the heart of gold who made her livin’ by pleasurin’ men, who, hours ago, had escorted Phoebe behind the rocks so she could piss proper. Now, here she was, offerin’ to risk her life against maraudin’ Indians.

“Scarlett,” I said, “you’re a helluva useful woman to have around.”

“Thanks, Emmett.”

A couple more shots hit the rocks around us. Scarlett was plenty scared, but fightin’ to look brave. This was the type of woman that could help tame a rugged land.

“You’re gonna make some lucky man a good wife,” I said.

“Yippee,” she said, without much enthusiasm.

She and I were with the horses on the east end of the camp, under a canopy of trees.  The others were huddled under the overhang on the west end of camp, directly below the Indians. The open area between us measured about thirty yards. No one had been hit. Yet.

“Where’s Wayne?” Phoebe shouted from her hidin’ place on the other side of camp.

“Who’s Wayne?” Gentry hollered.

“Shrug can’t be everywhere at the same time,” I shouted. This is our party. Now hobble your lips, and don’t distract me!”

I climbed on Major’s back and pulled my Henry from the scabbard.

“Where are you going?” Leah wailed. “Don’t you dare leave us!”

“Shut up!” I yelled.