Slocum and the Long Ride Read Free

ride.”
    â€œWhat about your other horse?”
    â€œHe’ll be fine. We need to hurry.”
    They raced off. He could see that her silk slip drawn up was showing lots of her snow-white leg. She was no stranger to horseback riding or to doing it bareback. The fresh horses sent them off racing hard again. Riding side by side, he smiled at her. “You are a great horsewoman.”
    â€œI have been a tomboy all my life. I need something to tie my hair back and keep it out of my face.” He stripped the blue-and-white silk kerchief from around his neck. “This will do it. We can stop on that next ridge and you can tie it up.”
    â€œGood,” she shouted back. With her knees, she turned the brown horse out in the grass and missed the near dry mud-hole mess that once had stuck a rig in the middle of the road.
    He took the other side and they rejoined. Skidding to a stop on the high point, he looked over the country that spread down the valley while she bound up her hair to stay back while they rode. He wished for a sombrero for her. She’d be sunburnt by the time they reached the Pitch Fork.
    â€œWear my hat,” he said, holding it out to her.
    â€œWhat will you do about the sun?”
    â€œI can find something later. Let’s ride,” he said when she got his weather-beaten Stetson on her head. To keep it on she drew up the strings that he hardly used, and they were off again.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    The day was waning in the west when he at last saw the red tile roofs of the Pitch Fork headquarters. Men with rifles were running around getting ready to fight the intruders. A lookout on one of the roofs shouted, “Let them in.”
    The two shared a confident nod when they rode under the gate crossbar with the ranch name on it. Slocum looked back, but there was no pursuit. Good.

2
    The smiling ranch owner came out of the house putting on his white hat. They’d dismounted, and behind the horses she quickly restored her skirt into place. Making certain the waistband was straight, she raised her chin and smiled at the man welcoming her to his ranch.
    â€œSo good to have you here, ma’am. And Slocum, we can always use your gun. Did you see any Apaches?” Oglethorpe replaced his hat as Sandy shed Slocum’s hat and tried to straighten her hair and his kerchief.
    â€œMostly the dead and their devastation,” Slocum said, nodding to some of the cowboys who’d gathered around to hear his report.
    â€œI saw one ranch woman and her daughter dead beside the road north of her schoolhouse. Another was a prospector full of arrows in the brush up at Chevron Springs. But there’s either haystacks burning, or ranch houses, all the way down here from the stage stop in Apache Pass.”
    â€œYou see any of them?”
    Slocum shook his head. “Once we hid in some junipers for them to go on by us up there. All we did was hear them arguing while we were hidden. The horse I rode gave out carrying us double, and we caught these two horses running loose that the boys are putting up. Damn grateful to find them. My horse was run plumb out.”
    Sandy agreed.
    â€œWell I have quarters for both of you,” Oglethorpe said. “One of the maids will draw your baths, and you can wear some of my clothing, Slocum. I have a dress should fit you, ma’am.”
    â€œThank you,” she said, sounding grateful.
    â€œThere are some guest cabins at the side of the main house. Slocum can show you your room. You have number one and he has two. Bathwater will soon be there, and about nine this evening we can have supper in the main house.”
    â€œVery good, thanks,” Slocum said and indicated to his companion that the way was up the flat rock steps to the next level.
    He came a few steps behind her. “Oran is a very rich man. Polite and nice to me, and he will be to you as well. He has no wife. I never knew why not.” He