“When the slaves were freed, Nick made his way north and joined up with a colored company during the war and then served as my corporal when we fought Kiowa and Comanches. He will keep Bram steady and know what to do if unexpected trouble comes. He won’t like being told he might miss the real action. But he’s still soldier in his heart. More than I am.”
Jack was silent for several miles as the wagon bounced down the trail. He took off his hat and wiped his shirtsleeve across his sweaty brow. Was it the burning sun that had unleashed its fury this afternoon? Or raw fear? He placed the low-crowned hat back on this head, tugged it low on his forehead, and reached back to stroke Thor. The dog licked his hand as if he understood his human friend’s worries.
“We don’t have near enough men, do we?” Jack said.
“By Army regulation standards, no. Of course, some officers didn’t worry so much about that when they sent buffalo soldiers out, but we fooled them more than once and came back to the post alive.”
“Tige, something I never mentioned to Jordy. If I come out of this slung over the back of a horse, wrap me up in my blankets, hold your noses and get me back to the Lucky Five for planting.”
“Boss, you’re giving me the shivers talking like that. I ain’t heard you go on like this ever,” Tige said.
“One of my moods, I guess. I’ve got to get back alive. I’m going to ask a special lady to marry me.”
“You are? It’s got to be Miss Tess.”
“Yep.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Someone had been watching from outside the camp the past two nights, and the presence had caused Jack fitful sleeps. Thor’s low growling had awakened Jack shortly after midnight both nights, and he and the dog had walked the camp and checked with the remuda guards, who assured him they had neither seen nor heard anything that triggered alarm. That had not been comforting because he considered Thor’s judgment regarding such matters far superior to that of any human.
The only trees on the gravelly landscape were small and spindly. A few rock formations might offer cover, but the ground was mostly bare. It would not be difficult for Thor to smell out the observer. Still, he was reluctant to order the old dog to ferret out the source of concern, for it might place his furry friend in danger, and chances of catching the invisible intruder were slim. After an hour or so, Thor had calmed both nights, signaling that the watcher had gone. It had to be an Indian, Jack decided, to slip in and out so quietly. And, if there had been more than one readying an attack, Thor would have raised a bigger fuss.
With a steaming tin cup of coffee in his hand to wash down morning biscuits and greasy gravy that did not settle so well on a fragile stomach these days, Jack walked a wide circle around the camp with Thor at his side. A female voice came from behind him. “Did you lose something?”
He turned and saw Sierra hurrying his way. He had two tagalongs these days. Not that he minded. It was a good feeling. The young woman had quickly moved from being just the granddaughter of his blood to taking up residence as the granddaughter of his heart. From his relationship with Jordy, he had learned that the latter was more important than the former. Jordy was the son he had been fortunate enough to know and love.
“Looking for tracks,” Jack said as Sierra caught up with him.
“What kind of tracks?” she asked.
“Likely Indian. Thor has been hearing or sensing somebody out here the past two nights. We’ve been up to check but didn’t turn up anything.”
“I didn’t hear you get up and I’ve been bedding down within five feet of you two every night.”
“You are what we call a dead sleeper. Good thing to be unless you are on guard duty.”
Thor growled and trotted toward a creosote bush less than twenty feet away.
Jack said, “Thor’s found something for us.” The dog reached the bush, sniffed, lifted his hind leg and pissed. He looked back at Jack and waited.
“It might have been nature’s call,” Jack said, as he and Sierra joined the black dog.
“No,” Sierra said, “I see prints in the sand. Very faint.”
Jack was not picking up the sign, so he let himself down on his knees for a closer look, mentally cussing his failing eyesight. “Damned if there aren’t. Moccasins. Devil got in plenty close. This bush isn’t much for hiding, but some Comanches and Apaches can hide ten feet away on bare ground in full sun.”
“Grandpa, I won’t swallow that.”
“Twenty feet maybe. I’m getting as bad as Rudy. I wonder if lying is contagious?”
“So what was he doing here?” Sierra asked.
“Scouting us out. But why? Looking to steal some horses? Worse? That’s what I’d like to know. And who? What tribe?”
He clambered back to his feet with a grunt when a stab of pain struck his lower back.
“Are you okay, Grandpa?”
“Just need to walk out a few kinks.” He headed back to the wagons where the mule teams were being hitched.
Sierra said, “Jordy’s been saddling our horses.”
“Yep. I do appreciate that today. He can be a handy feller to have around. Can be a pain sometimes, too, when he treats me like an old man. I let him know when he oversteps, but he just chuckles. The worst thing about getting old is when folks treat you like it.”
“You aren’t old, Grandpa. You’re just catching your second wind.”
He reached over and placed his arm about her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I knew there was something I liked about you, young lady.”
When the wagons were ready to roll out, Jack ordered the drivers to hold up a bit. He had his eyes on the swirl of dust moving their direction from up
