Page 7 of Charlotte's Reckoning
“How will we know if they understand?”
Seth kept signaling only stopping when he saw them break into two groups. “That’s how,”he murmured as half veered west closer to the bluff, which cast a long shadow on the flatlands, andthe other half rodeeast toward the South Platte.
They would have no trouble crossing the river as dry as it was, but the men pursuing them wouldn’t either. Riding through it might throw off their tracker, which Seth assumed was why they had the Cheyenne warrior with them.
“We better go,”Ike suggested. “If Bill saw your signal, the posse might have too. They could split up and follow.”
“Let’s head northwest,”Seth said, turning that way already. “We can hold up in Laramie for a few days then circle back to Cheyenne and meet up.”
“Good idea,”Ike grunted, as he nudged his horse forward. “Although, there ain’t much in the way of accommodations in Laramie except some tents.”
“They have a saloon, don’t they? That’s all I need about now.”
“You’re right. I don’t know how you remembered when I didn’t.”
“Probably because you’re getting on in years,”Seth teased. “You also can’t seem to remember I’m not twelve anymore. I’m ready for whiskey by the bottle, not the glass.”
“That they've got, but don’t expect company of the female persuasion. The town is still rustic and even soiled doves have standards."
“Whiskey and my bedroll will do me just fine,”he assured him.
Ike grunted again. “I likea soft bedat my age, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“We’re hardly beggars.”Seth reached back and patted his saddlebag. It bulged, too, although not nearly as much as Ike’s.
His uncle’s jaw dropped. “Well, I’ll be damned. If your father sent youupthe bluffwithpart of the loot, he must be slipping. How many bags of cash you got in there?”
“Two, and neither is skimpy. There’s enough to indulge in a night or two at a hotel, and no one will notice it’s missing.”
“That would be nice if there were any within riding distance,”Ike pointed out.
“Soon. Cheyenne is growing every day.”
“Soon don’t help my sacroiliac,”he complained, stretching, but he rubbed his left hip, where he’d taken the bullet, not his lower back.
They rode hard, losing daylight as the sun dipped low behind the Medicine Bow in the distance. Their banter was over. Ike was worried, and for good reason. His pa wasn’t slipping. He’d sent himupthe bluffwiththe cash because he knew trouble was coming, and he didn’t want his youngest son and brother in the crossfire.
***
Despite Ike’s warning, Laramie was worse than he imagined—dirty, smelly, and primitive. Still, the whiskey in the tent saloon was strong and burned as intended as it went down. They didn’t stay in town, which wasn’t much of one, more like a few rustic cabins built by the settlers and a collection of tents for the men working on the new railroad.
They stayed for thirty-six hours, not enough time for things to cool down, but it was all he or Ike could stand before heading to Cheyenne to check on the rest of the men, especially Bill.
When they rode up to the cabin, secluded deep in the dense forest several miles north of town, Rafe and Argyll, standing guard outside, greeted them with grim expressions.
“What’s wrong?”Seth asked as he slidfrom his saddle.
Argyll shot him an inscrutable look before he shook his head and stalked off.
Rafe, who was only two years Judd’s senior but acted like he was twice his age, clapped him hard on the shoulder. “You’re gonna have to be strong for your pa, boy. Bill has been hanging on for something, and I believe that something is you.”
Ike emitted a strangled gasp as though he’d taken a punch to the gut. Seth breathed, “Pa,”then sprinted inside and into the only bedroom.
When the door careened into the wall with a bang, Judd shot him a scowl and exclaimed, “Quiet. Ain’t you got no fucking sense?”
“It’s fine,”his father croaked weakly, his hand shaking as he reached for him. “Come here, Seth.”
On leaden legs and with a heart filled with dread, he made his way to the bed. The coarse texture of the sheets scraped against his numb fingers ashe sat opposite his brother. The figure resting on the straw mattress between them was barely recognizable. Despite his usual tanned complexion from hours of riding, his skin now had a grayish hue. Fatigue had etched deep lines on his face, and his eyes seemed dull, reflecting the pain evident in his near-constant grimace.
