Goodnight's Dream (A Floating Outfit Western Book 4) Read Free Page B

holstered Colt, a second
brave sent an arrow flashing into the cave. Pain ripped into Loving
as the arrow sliced between his ribs. Staggering, he felt his legs
buckle and he went down.

Chapter Two
I’ve Lost A Real Good Friend
     
     
    Despite the importance of the herd of cattle
to the fulfillment of his plans, Charles Goodnight did not hesitate
when Spat rode up with news of Loving’s predicament. Nor did the
fact that he might have excellent means of effecting a rescue in
any way influence his decision. Even without the presence of the
United States Army contingent, he would have acted in the same way.
Having half a troop of Cavalry and a battery of Mountain Artillery
along—they had arrived an hour after Loving’s departure—gave
Goodnight a greater chance of saving his partner and friend. Always
assuming that the Yankee officers were willing to lend a hand, that
is.
    In some ways Goodnight
resembled a Comanche, being thick-set for his five foot nine inches
of height and exhibiting a similar effortless grace when on the
back of a horse. However, from his low-crowned, wide-brimmed white
Stetson to his spur-heeled, star-decorated boots, his appearance
said Texas cattleman. Instead of the usual calfskin vest, he wore
one made from the rosette-dotted hide of a jaguar which, having
strayed north from Mexico, made the mistake of killing some of his
cattle. Around his waist hung a gunbelt supporting matched
rosewood-handled 1860 Army Colts in contoured holsters. From under
his left leg showed the butt of a Henry rifle. His tanned face,
with its grizzled brown beard, was set in grim lines as he rode
his bayo-cebrunos ii gelding towards the
two Army officers.
    When they heard Goodnight’s news and
intentions, the officers showed their willingness to help with the
rescue. Like many of their kind, they had small love for Texans but
Major Lane of the Artillery and 1st Lieutenant Leonard in charge of
the Cavalry escort saw the possibilities of being involved. With
promotion all but stagnant since the end of the War, they realized
that even a moderately successful operation against a band of
hostile Indians would bring them to the all-important notice of
their superiors.
    That especially applied to Lane. A career
Artillery officer, he had been sent west with his battery to help
fight the Apaches in New Mexico. Texas had Indian problems too, but
the Territory of New Mexico supported the Union during the War
Between the States and so received priority over the rebel Lone
Star State. While the appointment had advantages, it also carried
problems. Command in New Mexico rested in the hands of Cavalry
officers, who naturally meant to see that their arm of the service
received every benefit. Mountain artillery had been used during the
War, but not in a major action or decisively enough for its
capabilities to become generally known. Aware how hide-bound senior
officers could be when presented with novel suggestions, especially
from a rival branch of the Army, Lane saw the advantages of
reaching Fort Sumner with a victory to his credit. He would find
the commanding officer at the Fort more amenable if he brought news
that his guns had already routed a band of marauding Indians.
    ‘ I’ll have my men ready to march—’ Lane
began.
    ‘ We’re going to have to travel real
fast, Major,’ Goodnight interrupted. ‘Was I you, I’d just take your
three best guncrews and fastest mules. John!’
    ‘ Yo!’ replied the
rancher’s tall, lean and leathery-tough segundo, galloping up from where he had
been talking with an exhausted Spat.
    ‘ Send all but—eight with me,’ Goodnight
ordered, pausing to decide how small a group he might safely leave
to handle the cattle. ‘Reckon you can keep the herd moving with
just eight?’
    ‘ I’ll sure as hell try,’ John Poe
answered. ‘Spat’s just told me about Oliver and Sid. He allows to
ride back with you. I’ve got the wrangler fetching up a fresh horse
for him.’
    No less aware than