Jordy said, “But he couldn’t have left. He wouldn’t have tried the crossing in the dark.”
“He done it. I’d bet on it,” Rudy said.
Sierra said, “But last night we talked about going to Fort Stockton.”
“He didn’t make a commitment to do more than talk about it,” Jordy said. “He knew exactly what he was going to do. Jack Wills is always several days ahead with his mind, but he’s not inclined to share his plans with anybody who is not included. We were not. Rudy’s right, he likely tried the crossing last night. I hope to God he made it. I can’t believe he wouldn’t have better judgment. Maybe it’s the fever you were talking about.”
“So, what do we do?”
“I’m going after him.” Jordy turned and hollered at the other three men sitting near the fire with morning coffee. “Has anybody seen Jack since last night? Or know where he staked his horses?”
It occurred to Sierra that the cart was gone, too. How could he have ever got that across the river?
Roper Hawley got up from his place at the fire and walked over to Jordy. “Horses around that second west bend in the river. Boss Jack asked me to help him get the horses and that dog cart him and Swede made over there yesterday afternoon. Can’t see much from here with the double twist and brush. I’ll take you over there. Don’t know why he would’ve moved them. Should still be there.”
Sierra noticed Swede still sitting with his coffee mug in hand and walked over to him. “Swede, you haven’t seen Jack?”
Swede stood up. “No, Missy. I sleep behind chuckwagon. Not so hard as wagon floor and some boards take away for cart.”
“Would the dog cart float?”
“Ja. Boss and me fill cracks with cedar sap. Should work.”
She remembered now that whenever Jack or Swede would see an occasional scrub cedar along the trail, Swede would go out and take a hatchet to it, or Jack would ask someone to cut it and throw in the wagon. None of the trees were more than six feet tall, and by the end of the day there would be a good number of small trees stuffed in the wagon. She had never understood how the trees fit into the project but never paid much attention to the cart because she had seen it as more of a distraction for Jack to keep his mind occupied. She had not believed that when the time came, he would really choose to take off on his own.
Sierra knew now what they would find as they followed that bend in the river. As if in confirmation, Roper said, “I’ll be hornswoggled. All gone. Boss Jack ride out already, I think.”
Jordy said, “Yeah. Like as soon as he figured everybody was asleep last night. Darn him. I’m going to check the crossing and see if there is any sign that he had trouble at the river. Then I’m going to get a few things together, saddle up, and go after him.”
“I’m going with you,” Sierra said.
“Not necessary. You should be here to oversee cutting out of your horses.”
“Anybody can read a Turkey Track brand,” she snapped. “Tige and Irish and the others will see that my horses are accounted for. And if you don’t want to ride with me, you can ride some distance behind.”
“Don’t get your claws out. If it’s that important to you, we’ll go as a team.”
She regretted getting snappish with Jordy, but she never had taken bossing very well. She decided to hold off with her apology until she accumulated more inevitable trespasses.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Sierra and Jordy had an uneventful passage through the Pecos at Horsehead Crossing. On the north side now with their mounts and two spares, Jordy looked back and saw that the remaining crew members were preparing the raft for transporting the chuckwagon. The fuss with Rudy had been needless. Once he dropped the decision in the old devil’s hands, he chose the wisest course. He had to remember that Rudy gave little credibility to opinions from anyone under the age of fifty, and that it was better to let him make up his own mind about things. He had to admit that more often than not the old guy was right about things that counted.
Jack’s complications with the wound were worrying Rudy more than he let on, Jordy knew. Jack’s disappearance during the night had put the old-timer on the edge of hysterics. Jordy could see he was angry and apprehensive, caught up in a crosscurrent of emotions, and frustrated because he could not endure the ride that would be required for him to join them. At least he was wise enough to recognize it, something that could not be said for the Lucky Five owner.
Jordy saw Irish astride a big bay gelding, picking his way through the milling horses and reined his mount toward the ranch’s head horse wrangler. He raised his hand and waved, as Irish approached.
Irish tipped his hat when he rode up. “Morning, Sierra. You too, Jordy. Looks like you’re heading out. Going to join the boss man?”
“You saw him pass this way?”
“Not me, but Possum said the boss waved at him when he came by last night. Thought it strange he would be making the crossing in the dark.”
At least they could confirm that Jack had crossed the Pecos without mishap. “Any idea what time?”
“Possum said it was just before night-hawk shift change, so that would make it close to two o’clock,” Irish said.
“That means he has a good seven-hour head start on us,” Sierra said.
“You’re looking to catch up with him?” Possum asked.
Jordy said, “That’s the plan.” He changed the subject, not wanting to furnish too much fodder for wrangler gossip. “Looks like you are about ready to start dividing the herd.”
“Yeah. I don’t think it will go so bad. Funny how the bunch with Turkey
