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- 08/21/2023
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Bearpaw: An Old West Tale - 3. Chapter 3 Bean
Bean
It be damned hard work getting dead bodies up into the back of a high-sitting wagon when you ain’t never done it before. Jubal thought he could lift one by his lonesome, but soon found out different. Corpses don’t cooperate a’tall, and these were not small men. Once he and Lucas worked together, they got the foul job took care of, and the dead brothers—if that what they be—were soon covered with canvas and the gate put back in place.
There was no avoiding the slippery blood, though, and each wore plenty of red patches over the mud they already be covered in. Still breathing deeply from the effort, Jubal was glad to be back on the seat of the buckboard, but wished he had a way to clean his hands of the death besides wiping them in the grass. Like he’d told Lucas, that strong smell of blood should lessen as it dried, but it weren’t a pleasant thing to be covered in, wet or dry.
“Need to be paying attention to everything,” Lucas warned as he urged Dinah forward. It was the first words spoken since they’d begun their grim task what weren’t cusses. He was breathing deep too, and his voice had a slight hoarseness to it.
“Any luck, we’ll find him dead on the road,” Jubal said with his voice lowered as he peered into the darkness.
Lucas cleared his throat, turned his head away, and then spat a couple of times. “Would rather he survive and pay for his crimes. He be the real reason them boys lay dead back there. All for a horse and wagon?” He spat again, like he was trying rid hisself of a bad taste. “Why would they want such anyways? Seems to me they’d always need to be moving fast, and Dinah’s a good horse, but she surely ain’t a fast one.”
“Hard to say. Might be easier to approach someone on the road if you’re driving a wagon, or possible they had something heavy to move, something stolen… or something to steal what they needed a wagon for. Could be too, they thought you were carrying something valuable.”
“All those make sense, I suppose. And I was carrying something valuable. You,” he said with a quick sideways grin.
Jubal smiled back, happy to finally see a better expression on the man’s face. “Never been called valuable afore. Got called worthless by my pa plenty of times, though.”
“Ain’t all pa’s tough on their sons, because mine surely was?” A scowl appeared, and just as quickly disappeared. “You doing all right now?”
His voice was low, but Jubal heard him plain, and the concern he had for him even though he be feeling troubled hisself. Hadn’t known the man more than a few hours, but he for sure felt a kinship he hadn’t expected. Guess it came from living through what they’d faced.
Fact was, a fellow could go months or longer without meeting a truly decent man like Lucas appeared to be. He knew all about meeting the bad ones. “I reckon I’m better than I was… didn’t enjoy moving those men, that’s for certain. You’re right I should be happy I got some of my money back. Never expected I would, but I’d gladly trade some of it for Kema to still be breathing. Miss him terrible, and can’t shake the feeling I let him down by getting us lost where I did.”
Lucas nodded as maneuvered a curve in the road. “You didn’t, Jubal, but I understand. It was something what happened that’s a damn shame, that’s all, and it don’t be your fault or his. I’m partial to this here mare, despite she’s not a pretty one. Ain’t nothing she won’t pull for me, and she’s always sweet about it, never balking. Can go the day long too, and the thought of them brutes taking her is one what would never sit right with me.”
“She never moved with the gunfire.”
“No, she didn’t, that’s true. Takes everything in stride because she trusts me.”
“I see that plain. That trust they have in us is what makes it hard when we have no choice but to… ease their misery.”
“Yep,” Lucas said through a sigh. “That be the truth of it.”
Silence took over as they both watched for any sign of more trouble. They listened too, trying to pick out any sound what weren’t right. A few miles down a mostly bumpy stretch of road, Jubal heard a foot stomp. It was horse-made for sure. “Stop!” he ordered in a whisper, his senses fired up.
“I heard it too. It’s on my side, a bit in from the road.” Lucas eased the wagon brake on. “Ready for a walk?”
“Surely am.” Jubal landed on the ground without a sound, his gun already drawn. Dark shadows fought with moonlit patches, so caution and quiet were needed. He ran into the grass at a low crouch with Lucas right behind him. “Stay low and be careful,” he warned.
“Yep.” Lucas’s response was followed by a soft nicker, and that was followed by an eager one from Dinah. If the wounded man be around, he would know where they be after hearing her.
Another one sounded as they moved into taller grass, and Jubal sighted where it came from. He made out the shadowy outline of two horses in the scattered trees ahead, and both appeared to be wearing saddles. It be hard to get a good look, but one didn’t look quite right. It had to be the horses of the dead brothers, though, and the hair on his neck rose up from his skin. Why would they be huddled in this spot? That third man could well be close and watching them at this very moment, but it didn’t seem the best place for an ambush. Lucas crept past him.
“Stop!” he said, hissing the word. “We don’t know if’n it be safe yet.”
Lucas ignored him and kept moving, careful but steady.
“Where you going to?” he asked in a low whisper as he moved with him.
“I can’t smell no fresh blood. Can you?”
“No, but so what?”
“Well, if he be bleeding, shouldn’t we be smelling it strong, like we did with the other two? That crawled up my nose and about made me retch.”
“Maybe so, but it could have stopped, or he could have washed it off… or he could be far off and waiting.”
“Suppose you’re right, but we won’t find out from here, and I ain’t driving any further up that road till we do. Sets my teeth on edge, and I’ve had enough of it. Besides, his aim won’t be no good with that bullet in him.” He crept forward again, well to the side of the horses who were now moving about nervous-like.
“You don’t know that,” Jubal muttered as the man kept moving. He covered him with his gun at the ready, his head turning every which way. Another soft whinny sounded, so he made a decision to go wide on the other side, searching every direction for anything what didn’t look right while still keeping an eye on where Lucas be. There weren’t nothing of concern to be seen so far, and there be clear meadow on the other side of the stand of trees ahead.
Cautious, but less worried now, he advanced on the horses. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered. One of the horses was tied to a tree and it was wearing a loaded pack saddle. His pack saddle, on his horse Bean. No wonder something hadn't looked right. He watched Lucas move to the other side and stayed alert until he reached the one loose horse. At least now the man had some cover. Still wary, he relaxed a little more. If the thieving bugger was around, he should have shot by now… unless he couldn’t.
With his arm stretched forward, he approached his mare. Truth be told, he didn’t care for her as a saddle horse. Too much knee on her so she stepped damn high at a trot. A rider would soon feel that in his ass unless he rode up off the saddle, but still she was a sight for his sore eyes. He’d bought her for twenty dollars from a cowboy who said he would put a bullet in her brain before he ever got on her again.
He’d soon found out the truth of it—that he hadn’t gotten the good deal he thought he had—realizing the man hadn’t exaggerated by the end of a full day’s ride on her. He’d bought Kema soon after. Kept her, though. Despite her rough gait, she was sweet-tempered and willing, and there was no denying she was a pretty animal. “This here be my pack horse, and she looks to still be carrying all the stuff I thought gone for good,” he said quiet-like to Lucas, who was just on the other side of his mare. “She ain’t made for riding, but she be a good pack horse.”
“Happy you got her back, along with your belongings. This one has hard-dried blood on the saddle and left shoulder, so it belonged to the first one shot. She’s the one with the nicest head… recognize the face marking. Wonder where the other sorrel be? It can’t be close by, or they’d be calling each other.”
“And that means that thief is long gone or deep in some bush, laying low. This one came back to my mare tied here. The other likely headed for that third horse. Horses have their friends, just like us.”
“And he took hold of it?”
“That’d be my guess, or it’s following along. We could still come across it, but if’n he’s hightailing it like I think, a second horse would get him farther faster. It’ll stay fresher till he needs to switch. Bastard’s got the rest of my money.” He kept his eye on the surroundings, despite being almost certain he was long gone.
“Reckon he does, but you got your pack horse back now, and another to boot, one that is made for riding.”
“Another? You saying this here horse is mine for the taking?”
“Course I am. Why wouldn’t it be? You shot one who stole your money and he was mounted on this here mare, I’m certain of that, so you’re owed such by my figuring. And no, for certain she don’t replace the one you lost cause of what they did, but she looks a fine mount just the same.”
“From what I can see, she is better than decent, but why she be mine and not yourn?” he asked as he stared at her outline. She surely was well-formed with lots of hindquarters to her, and a good height… he did like them on the taller side.
“Just told you why, and I didn’t lose nothing but a bullet… nothing close to what you lost.”
Jubal reached out to the sorrel mare’s white-blazed nose and let her sniff. She nudged his hand and he stroked the softness. “You reckon the sheriff would see it such a way?”
“Consider the sheriff a friend of sorts—known him from an earlier time—and if I understand him like I expect I do, then yep, he’ll tell you this one belongs to you as recompense for your losses. Saddle and bridle too most likely.”
“Recompense? Truth is, I’m not sure I want a dead man’s horse… especially not one I kilt, and I don’t need no other saddle.”
“Well then, you can sell her if that be so. She’ll bring a good dollar for sure. Told you stock has been scarce around these parts. Had offers on mine, sure enough. One fella was willing to pay a hundred-and twenty-five dollars for my good bay mare, almost twice what I paid for her.”
“That be a lot for a saddle horse. Well… I reckon we’ll see what this sheriff says. He might want to put us in jail for bringing him men carrying our bullets.”
Lucas laughed, and the loudness of it showed he was no longer concerned the third man was anywhere near. “Not men, thieves what likely be killers too, so guarantee you he won’t.” His laughter became a chuckle. “Let’s get these two tied to the wagon—there be a halter and rope in the back for this one. We got bodies to deliver, and we need to be getting home to my farm. Been gone long enough, and you need some good rest.”
“Expect you need rest too,” Jubal said with something else on his mind as Lucas took hold of the thief’s horse and turned her toward the wagon. “You know you took a chance moving so fast like you did? Admit I was afeared for you.”
Lucas turned back his way. “Sorry for that. Wouldn’t have done so if’n I didn’t have you at my back. Trusted you would keep me safe.” His grin shone in the moonlight, and Jubal had to grin too. Still, the man had too much faith in him. All he’d done was shoot a man and wound another.
He untied Bean and followed behind Lucas and the mare. He thought about his luck since meeting the man. He had almost half his money back in his pocket, had his stolen horse in hand along with his bed roll and clothes, his shave kit, tent, picket rope, hobbles, and extra lariat—and even his iron skillet was still tied where he left it.
From what he could tell, all he be missing was his rifle and the extra revolver they took from his saddlebag that night. As close as it be to his side, he never had a chance to defend hisself. Hitting a fellow from behind was almost as bad as shooting him in the back, to Jubal’s mind.
It was clear they hadn’t the decency to unsaddle Bean the whole time they had her, and he couldn’t abide such cruelty to a animal. He’d checked her cinch and it was right tight. He could feel no sores from it, but it didn’t mean they weren’t there. Sure, a horse can sleep standing up, but they be just plain cruel to treat her so.
The fact they left her loaded with his belongings had him wondering, though. Didn’t make sense to him, but neither did thieving for a living. Could be she was used to approach folks on the road? Innocent travelers might not suspect a man with a pack horse till it be too late. Didn’t matter what their reasons, he had her back and was glad for it.
“A couple more hours and you’ll be able to have yourself a good roll in a place you can rest what has thick green grass,” he promised her with a rub to her neck as they stepped out onto the road. He checked her again in better light, and decided it best to leave her saddle on rather than find space for it near dead bodies what took up so much room. Had no desire to lay his belongings on top of them.
Like Bean, Jubal had a place to stay too while he figured out a new path… and he’d made a new friend, someone easy to talk to, someone he felt comfortable with… if he allowed hisself to trust the way Lucas appeared to trust him. Been some time since he’d been so fortunate, but would such luck last?
With that question in mind, after watching Lucas tie the sorrel to his wagon, he opened up her first saddlebag, hoping to find the rest of his coins, and maybe his missing revolver. It weren’t to be, though. He pulled out two quality pistols, neither of which be his, a plain but well-made holster, and a shiny gold bracelet with dark red stones hanging from its length. The other side contained another unfamiliar gun, a fancy shawl what looked to be Mexican, a tobacco tin full of strong-smelling leaf, and four single gold-eagles.
“Put those in your pocket,” Lucas said, standing close while he’d emptied out that second saddlebag.
“The forty dollars? It ain’t mine.”
“You don’t know that. He likely spent some of yours.”
Jubal frowned. “Don’t think so. He had the ten, and his brother the other, so the other twenty-two are probably still with the third one. Besides, where they be spending money around here? Ain’t been that long since they robbed me, so no, I don’t have no right to these single eagles.”
“Could have been in Bearpaw since, but I see your point. Still, money is money, and it don’t matter it’s not the same coin.” Lucas was now the one frowning, the bright moonlight showing his confusion.
“Does to me… but we’ll see what the sheriff says. If he says they’re mine, then I’ll put them in my pocket. I know for certain those others be my coins.”
“If that be your thinking, then we’ll see what he says. Ready to go?”
“Yep. Just need to take a piss.”
“Reckon I do too.” Lucas unbuttoned where he was standing and let loose a stream. Jubal, unprepared, tried not to look, but his eyes didn’t pay him any mind, and he got a good view before he turned away. He struggled to get his own stream going, but his mind wouldn’t let go the glimpse of that length of pale white flesh, and he cursed the looking. His own cock had thickened, but finally, the pee came a bit, and then it flowed as the swelling lessened. He sighed at this small success. He wouldn’t take another beating because of who he was. The last one was the last one, and he would never make the mistake of showing his hand again.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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