But if I could get this Longhorn to turn his head slightly and take a step forward, he’d expose the area I needed to hit. Unfortunately, even a heart-shot buffalo can run a hundred yards before dyin’. And while a bull ain’t exactly a buffalo or bear, this was one helluva big Longhorn, and I’d be awful damn lucky to kill it with one shot in such a way that Rose could get away.

And one shot is all I figured to have.

The bull cocked his head at Rose and pawed the ground one last time before chargin’.

I was standin’ on the bench, surrounded by snifflin’ whores who I hoped were tryin’ hard not to cause movement in the wagon. Time seemed to stand still while I waited for the bull to turn sideways enough for me to shoot his heart.

At that precise moment, several things happened at the same time.

Shrug appeared from the far side of the trail, and hurled a rock at the bull’s face.

The bull charged Rose, but turned sideways a split second when Shrug’s rock hit him.

I fired my rifle.

In the space of a heartbeat, two things were clear. First, I’d made a perfect shot. And second, it didn’t make a difference.

The bull never slowed as it attacked Rose.

And that didn’t matter either.

Because by the time the bull got to where Rose had been standing…she was no longer there.

 


 

 

 

31.

 

Everythin’ happened so fast, it seemed a blur. The bull stopped a few feet beyond where he would have gored Rose, had she been there, and now he looked around, stupefied, tryin’ to locate her. I took that opportunity to squeeze off another shot to his heart, and two more to his lung. The bull shuddered twice, took a step toward Shrug, then buckled to his knees, and fell.

Phoebe shouted, “Wayne!”

I lowered my rifle and swept the area with my eyes, lookin’ for Rose.

“Was she gored?” I said.

“She just…disappeared!” Leah said.

Apparently Mary hadn’t seen Shrug ’til that moment, because she suddenly yelled, “What in the name of God is that thing? Shoot it, Emmett!”

Phoebe jumped out of the wagon and ran toward him. They embraced briefly, which caused Mary to say, “What is she doing? Hugging it?”

I said, “That’s Shrug. He saved her life recently.”

“Jesus!” she said.

Shrug and Phoebe realized everyone was watchin’ ’em. They backed away from each other, suddenly self-conscious about their public display. Then Shrug ran to check on Scarlett. As he turned her over, Phoebe shouted, “She’s alive!”

There was more. Little Hannah was underneath her, safe and sound.

I put my rifle in the wagon, and we all ran over to see.

Scarlett had always been a big gal. Bein’ unconscious made her heavier still. But me and Shrug and the women managed to get her in the wagon anyway. She was in bad shape and gettin’ worse, and I only had one hope for her survival.

“Where’s Rose?” I said. “Anyone see what happened to her?”

Shrug looked where she’d been, then up in the sky, then back at me, and shrugged.

“She was standin’ there one minute,” Leah said, “and the next…she was gone.”

“She’s a witch,” Mary said. “I knew it the minute I met her, and nothing’s happened to change my mind ever since. Especially this.”

“She must a’ got hit by the bull,” I said. “She’s slight, and could’ve been butted a good distance. Let’s spread out and check the grass on the other side of the trail. Maybe she got knocked into a hole or somethin’.”

“Someone should stay in the wagon with Scarlett and Hannah,” Phoebe said. I noticed she was strokin’ Hannah’s hair. It seemed to calm her.

“How about you stay with her then,” I said.

Phoebe nodded.

I looked at Hannah. She hadn’t said a word, had no expression on her face.