Roland shook his head. “I got a good look at him. It was definitely Garity and his men. We tried to fight them off, but they hit us without any warning and killed several of the men before we knew what was going on. The rest of us were cut off from the wagons and had to retreat into these trees. Some of them kept us pinned down while the others hitched up the teams and got the wagons moving.”
A chill went down Preacher’s back as a thought occurred to him. “What about Casey?” he asked. “Was she hurt in the fightin’?”
“I don’t know,” Roland replied, his voice more tortured than ever. “She was with the wagons. Garity . . . Garity took her with them.”
Preacher went cold all over when he heard those words. Anger boiled up inside him. “What the hell were you doin’?” he demanded. “You were supposed to have guards posted, and you should’ve been with the wagons, not down here by the river !”
“I know,” Roland said, sounding miserable. “But some of the men decided they wanted to wash off, and I thought it would be better if they did that in the river instead of the pool at the springs, and . . . and—”
Preacher stopped him with a sharp slashing motion of his hand. “That’s enough,” he said coldly. “It was a damn fool thing to do, and just the sort of chance Garity had been waitin’ for, I reckon.”
“I know.” Roland’s voice sounded dull and defeated as he nodded. “It’s my fault.” His head came up. “That’s why I’m going after them. I’m going to get Casey and the wagons back. I want Lorenzo’s horse.”
“And leave me stuck out here?” Lorenzo asked. He snorted. “Not likely.”
“Hold on,” Preacher said. “These horses been travelin’ all day already. They’re in no shape to be rode all night. Anyway, there ain’t much light left. How good are you at trackin’ in the dark?”
Roland grimaced. “I’m not a tracker at all. You know that, Preacher.”
“So you figured I’d go with you, right?”
“I supposed you’d want to help Casey as much as I do.” Anger flared in the young man’s voice as he went on, “Or do you not give a damn about her now that she’s with me?”
“She ain’t with you,” Preacher pointed out. “She’s with Garity. And you’re damn right I want to help her. We can’t do that by rushin’ off, just the two of us.”
Roland glared at him for a moment, then sighed. “You’re right, of course. Garity has at least a dozen men. But what are we going to do?”
Preacher looked at the sky, where the last light of day was fading. “We’ll stay here tonight and pick up their trail in the mornin’,” he said. “Did you at least see which way they were headed when they left?”
“They were following the trail southwest.”
Preacher nodded. “They’re headin’ for Santa Fe. Nobody there will know the wagons and the freight don’t belong to them. They can sell ’em all off and make a killin’, then take the money and light a shuck out of there before anybody figures out the deal was crooked.” Preacher tugged on his earlobe. “Maybe we can go after the varmints tonight after all. When did the raid happen?”
“Around the middle of the day.”
“So they’ve had half a day to get a lead on us,” Preacher mused. “But even on foot, men can move faster than those oxen pullin’ those heavy wagons. We can catch up to ’em before the night’s over.”
Roland shook his head. “Some of the men are hurt too bad to march like that.”
“Then they’ll stay here with a couple men to watch over ’em while the rest of us go after Garity.”
“We’ll be outnumbered.”
“Not for long,” Preacher said.
Lorenzo didn’t like it, but Preacher asked him to stay behind to help guard the wounded men. The old-timer had been in the saddle practically all day and was worn out.
“The same thing is true of you,” Lorenzo pointed out, “and you got clawed by that damn bear, to boot.”
“Yeah, but I’m a heap younger than you,” Preacher responded with a grin.
“You just want me to give up my horse so that young whippersnapper can use it.”
“Roland’s spoilin’ for a fight. We’ll see to it that he gets one.”
Reluctantly, Lorenzo agreed. “Don’t push that horse too hard. It’s already been a long way today.”
Preacher nodded. “We’ll take it as easy as we can. Most of the time we won’t be movin’ any faster than those men can walk.”
In addition to Preacher and Roland, eight men were in the party going after Garity and the rest of the outlaws. Each man was armed with a rifle and a knife, and a couple had pistols as well. It wasn’t much of an army, Preacher thought, but it would have to do.
Starting out, Roland was the only one who rode, since he had an injured leg. Preacher walked alongside him, leading Horse. The other eight men followed behind them. The stars were out and provided enough light for Preacher to follow the well-defined wagon trail.
“What about the bear?” Roland asked after a few minutes. “I saw that you were hurt. You must have found it.”
“We did,” Preacher said. “Dog and me both tangled with the varmint close up, and Lorenzo shot the blasted thing again.”
“So you killed it?”
