Running Irons

A grin flickered on Danny’s face and he held out a hand. “Put her there, Calam. Pleased to know you.”

Taking the offered hand, Calamity shook it and grinned back. “And boy, was I pleased to hear from you. Say, let’s tend to the cleaning up afore we set down to old home week, shall we?”

“Be best, I reckon,” Danny agreed. “Can we tote ’em in on your wagon?”

“Reckon so. I never took to handling the blister end of a shovel.”

“I’ll go bring down my hoss first.”

“Reckon I’ll come along with you,” Calamity remarked, throwing a glance at the bodies. “Feel like stretching my legs a mite.”

“Let’s go then,” Danny answered.

He made no comment on the girl’s statement, although she figured that her words had not fooled him at all. Side by side they started to walk up the bush dotted slope and Calamity’s curiosity got the better of her as she thought of Danny’s timely arrival.

“How’d you come to be on hand right when I needed you?” she asked.

“I’ve been after Choya and his bunch for over a week now.”

“Just one of you?”

“Were three when we started out. Only the Comancheros laid for us. Got Buck Lemming, him being the sergeant, first crack and put lead into Sandy Gartree’s left wing. I was riding behind the other two and come off lucky. Then when Choya’s bunch pulled a Mexican stand-off. I buried Buck, patched up Sandy and sent him back to the Bradded H and took out to tracking those four.”

Which left a considerable amount of the story untold. Danny spoke truly when he said he had been riding behind the other two as they ran into the ambush. What he failed to mention being that he saved Gartree’s life by pulling the wounded man to cover under Comanchero fire and it had been mainly due to his defense that the four remaining Mexicans—two died before Danny and Gartree’s guns—pulled out and ran. In the traditions of the Texas Rangers, Danny attended to his friends and then took out after the Comancheros even though the odds be four to one in their favor.

“Sure pleased you did,” Calamity stated. “Man, there was times when I figured I was due for wings and a harp.”

“You. Shucks, only the good die young they do say,” grinned Danny.

“One more remark like that out of you and we’ll see about it,” she snorted. “What was you fixing in to do, sneaking down the slope?”

“Take ’em. I’d seen their hosses when they jumped us and recognized those four when I peeked over the top of the rim. Reckoned that Choya and his bunch’d be in the house and aimed to sneak in then take ’em by surprise. Only you come through the window afore I made it. Which same I was lucky, didn’t know about that jasper in the backhouse.”

“The Ysabel Kid’d’ve checked on it afore he moved in.”

“Which same I aimed to do,” Danny told her calmly. “He taught me all he knows about tracking and things.”

“Which same I never saw the Kid show any sign of knowing about—things,” grinned Calamity. “Though he does know some about tracking.”

“Anyways you stopped me when you came through the window and that jasper came out the backhouse like a coon off a log when he heard the whooping and hollering, and I figured to stay hid until I saw what might be needed. How come you-all was fool enough to get caught, Calam, gal?”

Quickly, her sentences liberally sprinkled with a flow of invective that brought an admiring grin to Danny’s lips, Calamity told her story. Nor did his admiration lessen when he heard of the manner in which she prevented the men from recognizing her true potential by donning a skirt and acting as the unsuspecting lady of the house. Take it any way a man looked, old Calamity was quite a gal and lived up to the flattering comments Dusty, Mark and the Kid made about her after their return from the first meeting. Not many women would have shown her presence of mind. Fact being, few women, even in the self-reliant West, could have handled things so efficiently or come out of the situation which had faced Calamity as well as she did.

On reaching the top of the slope, Calamity looked to where Danny’s horse stood by a large blueberry bush. It came as almost a surprise to see that Danny did not ride a paint like his brother’s personal mount. However, the horse looked to be a real fine critter, sixteen hands high and showing good breeding. The horse had a coloration Calamity could never remember seeing before, a light red, almost pinkish roan with a pure white belly.

“What in hell color do you call that?” she asked.

“A sabino,” Danny explained. “Got him below the line. Mexican cowhands go a whole heap on them for go-to-town hosses and for work.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” sniffed Calamity. “Looks a mite flashy to me. Got me a buckskin with the outfit that’d run his legs down to the shoulders in a straight mile race.”

“Got me a week’s furlough to come when I pull in from this lot,” Danny answered, meeting her challenge. “Happen you can lay hands on your crow-bait, we’ll run us a race.”

“You got a deal. Dobe Killem, which same being my boss, told me to wait in Austin for two weeks, grab some work if I could to keep me busy until he brings the rest of the bunch in.”

“So you’ll be in for a week with nothing to do,” drawled Danny, taking up his sabino’s reins. “Just like me.”

“Must be fate in it someplace.” Calamity answered, eyeing him with interest. “You got a steady gal?”

“Not steady. Always figgered a young lawman shouldn’t get too close or attached until he knows if he’s going to make the grade or not.”

“Which same’s as good an excuse as any.”

“Sure,” Danny agreed. “Now let’s get down there and tend to those four Mexicans, shall we?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Calamity answered.

On returning to the cabin, Danny attended to his horse. Then, with Calamity at his side, he returned to the front of the cabin and prepared to start the distasteful task of cleaning up.

“Get their tarps, Calam,” he ordered, “and bring one of their ropes.”

Normally Calamity might have objected to a new acquaintance, especially a young man, giving her orders. Yet she figured Danny knew what he was doing, and anyways she could always object if she decided he did not. Calamity went to each horse in turn and removed its tarpaulin-wrapped bundle from behind the saddle’s cantle. Unrolling the first bundle, she handed the tarp to Danny and, with an express of distaste on his face, he went to work. First spreading the tarp on the ground, Danny pulled Choya’s body into the center of it. Wrapping the body completely inside the tarp, Danny took the rope from Calamity and bound the bundle so the jolting of the wagon would not uncover its grisly contents. Next came a difficult and not too pleasant task, loading the body into the rear of Calamity’s wagon.

“I’ll lend you a hand,” the girl said her voice just a mite strained.

“Gracias, Calam. Take the feet, I’ll handle the head.”

Between them, Calamity and Danny lifted first one, then the remainder of the tarpaulin-wrapped shapes into the rear of the girl’s wagon, laying them side by side in the space at the back. With that done, the two of them cleaned up, as well as they could, the traces of the fighting. Calamity gathered up the shattered glass while Danny brought shovel-loads of dirt to cover the bloodstains. Finally they stood back and looked over their work.

“I took a bath when I arrived,” the girl remarked. “Damned if I don’t feel all dirty again.”

Danny put a hand to his bristle-covered chin. “And me. I sure hate to have whiskers growing on me. Say, is there any water inside?”

“I’ll boil some for you. Then while you’re shaving, I’ll go take a bath,” Calamity suggested. “And then I’ll cook us a meal.”

“Sounds like a real good notion,” Danny answered.

Opening his bedroll, Danny dug into his warbag and collected his shaving kit. Calamity poured him out some hot water and headed for the swimming hole while he stripped off his shirt to wash and shave. Having been hunting the Comancheros alone for the past three days, Danny had not found time to wash and shave, or even take off his clothes. He felt a whole heap better with the growth of whiskers and some of the trail dirt removed from his hide. On Calamity’s return, Danny took a change of clothes and headed for the swimming hole. All in all, he both felt and looked a whole heap better on his return. Nor had Calamity wasted her time, but set