“Or those fellas who tried to rob us,” another man put in.
Preacher hadn’t forgotten about Garity, although it seemed likely to him the would-be thieves had already pushed on to Santa Fe. He left Lorenzo and the other men to their game and walked on around the circle of wagons. He found Casey and Roland sitting on a couple of crates Roland had taken out of one of the wagons.
The young man came to his feet as Preacher approached. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
Preacher had left the two young people alone while the caravan was camped at the Cimarron springs. He thought the bond between them had grown stronger, and that was a good thing. His hope was that when the wagons started back to St. Louis from Santa Fe, Casey would go with them. He wouldn’t be surprised if she wound up marrying Roland Bartlett.
“No, nothin’s wrong,” Preacher told them. “Just thought I’d see how you two were doin’ and let you know we’re leavin’ here in the mornin’.”
Casey smiled up at him. “After everything we’ve gone through, it’s been like paradise here, Preacher.”
“Yeah. Roland’s pa compared it to Eden. I reckon he wasn’t far wrong.”
“How long will it take us to finish the trip from here?” Roland asked.
“Another week, I’m thinkin’. If nothin’ else happens along the way.” He hadn’t shaken the slight feeling of uneasiness that had cropped up in him earlier.
“I’m looking forward to seeing Santa Fe,” Casey said.
“It’s a right pretty town in its way,” Preacher said. “And the mountains around it are even—”
The sentiment he was expressing was interrupted by a terrifed shout that suddenly ripped through the night, followed by the boom of a gunshot.
CHAPTER 17
Preacher wheeled around and broke into a run toward the source of the commotion. He heard growling and snarling and recognized the sounds of Dog fighting with something or someone. A man screamed, making Preacher think the big cur had gotten hold of someone.
He realized a second later the cries were coming from the wagon where he had been talking to Leeman Bartlett a few minutes earlier. Since he couldn’t think of any reason why Dog would attack Bartlett, he decided something else must be going on.
Horror washed through him a moment later when he rounded the back of the wagon and saw a towering figure. The grizzly bear was back, and it had Bartlett.
The man shrieked in agony as claws and teeth tore into him. Dog was trying to help Bartlett by darting around and snapping at the bear, but the grizzly ignored him. The creature seemed intent on mauling Bartlett to the exclusion of everything else.
Preacher jerked his rifle to his shoulder. Bartlett was in the line of fire, but it didn’t matter. He was doomed unless somebody did something fast. It might already be too late.
The light from the campfire that penetrated between the wagons was uncertain, but Preacher lined his sights on the bear’s head and pulled the trigger.
The grizzly roared as its head jerked back, so Preacher knew his shot had found its mark. The brute didn’t fall, but continued to savage Leeman Bartlett. Preacher suspected the ball from his rifle had struck the bear a glancing blow and bounced off the thick skull under the fur.
More men ran up in response to the screams and growls and gunshots. Roland shouted, “Pa!” and tried to rush past Preacher.
Preacher grabbed the young man’s arm and dragged him back. “You’ll just get yourself killed!” he said as he shoved Roland into the arms of several of the bullwhackers. “Hold onto him!”
Preacher dropped his empty rifle and pulled his pistols. He was going to have to get closer to the bear so he could fire a shot directly into one of the beast’s eyes, to reach its brain and stop it.
He feared it was too late to help Leeman Bartlett. Bartlett’s head lolled loosely on his neck, and his clothes, shredded by the grizzly’s teeth and claws, were soaked with blood.
Holding the pistols ready, Preacher moved closer to the bear. Suddenly, the grizzly threw Bartlett’s limp body aside like a child discarding a rag doll, its beady eyes focused on Preacher instead. With a thunderous roar, the monster charged.
“Everybody scatter!” Preacher shouted as he flung himself out of the way of the charging bear. The creature barreled past him with Dog still nipping at its heels. Yelling frightened curses, the other members of the party scrambled to get away from the grizzly.
The bear slapped at one of the bullwhackers who was too slow getting out of the way. The big paw smashed into the man’s back and lifted him off his feet. The bullwhacker yelled in pain and flew through the air for a short distance before crashing to the ground. Stripes of blood angled across the back of his shirt where the bear’s claws had ripped his flesh.
Preacher leaped to his feet and ran after the bear, yelling, “Hey! Hey, you big hairy bastard!” Reaching high, he reversed one of the pistols and slammed the butt into the back of the bear’s head, then dropped into a crouch as the grizzly wheeled around and swung a vicious blow at his head. He straightened, so close he could smell the bear’s fetid breath in his face.
Before Preacher could jam his pistol into the bear’s throat, the bear caught him with a backhanded swing that landed on the side of the mountain man’s head. The blow was a glancing one, strong enough to send Preacher flying off his feet, but not powerful enough to break his neck. He managed to hang on to the pistols as he rolled over a couple times on the ground.
The camp was full of yelling and cursing, and gunshots added to the chaos as the bullwhackers who had managed to reach cover opened fire on the bear.
