The Long Trail Home Read Free Page B

“Don’t walk to my voice, Ladosa, keep walkin’ straight.”
    She had crossed the road in the dark and was about to stumble into the boulders when he called out again, “Stay right there, darlin’. I’ll come to you.”
    She flinched but didn’t say a word when he slipped his hand into hers. He tugged her back into the safety of the rocks.
    He could not see her face, but he smelled her rose perfume and felt her dancing brown eyes on him.
    â€œSammy, who’s with you?” she asked.
    â€œYou remember Kiowa?”
    Her voice dropped to a soft murmur, “I thought he was dead.”
    Kiowa’s voice was low, lilting: “I am . . .”
    â€œThat ain’t funny,” Ladosa complained.
    â€œHis death was just a vicious rumor,” Fortune added.
    â€œWho would start a rumor like that?” she quizzed.
    â€œMe,” Kiowa chuckled. “Bounty hunters don’t go after dead men.”
    â€œWhat are you two doin’ here? Don’t you know there’s a deputy U.S. marshal in there?”
    â€œWhich one?” Kiowa queried.
    â€œRoberts.”
    â€œWe’re out here whisperin’ because of S. D. Roberts?” Kiowa groaned. “He couldn’t hit a buffalo with a shotgun at ten feet.”
    Ladosa pressed her chest against Sam Fortune’s arm, her hand still in his. “As long as you don’t go near that saloon, they won’t come after you. At least, not until daylight. They’re all scared to death of the legendary Sam Fortune.”
    â€œWe’ll be out of here by daylight.” Fortune released her fingers and stepped back. “How have you been, Ladosa? Why are you out here at the edge of the plains?”
    â€œSammy, how long has it been since you were in Fort Still?”
    â€œNot since I got out of jail.”
    â€œWell, it’s bad. The Apaches and the Comanches were knifin’ each other, and the soldiers stayed drunk most of the time. Then the Ratton Boys moved up, and it was like a civil war. I hitched a ride with a drummer and got out. This is as far as he made it.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘this is as far as he made it’?”
    â€œHe got shot in a poker game. I was stuck without a penny. Well, I do have one valise of clothes, two jack mules, and a wagon half full of General Marsh’s Health Restorer. Now you know why I’m here, but I don’t know why you’re here.”
    â€œWe rode our horses down. We stopped to pick up a couple new ones,” Sam announced.
    Ladosa clutched onto Fortune’s arm. “There ain’t any horses for sale around here.”
    â€œThat’s OK,” Kiowa laughed; “we don’t have any money.”
    â€œIf you steal that deputy’s horse, he’ll follow you for sure. Course, he might follow you, even if you don’t steal the horses,” she warned.
    Sam sat back on a boulder and pulled her closer. Her bare arms felt soft, smooth, and warm to his calloused hands. “I served my sentence. They can’t arrest me in Indian Territory.”
    â€œNo one wants to arrest you, Sammy,” she clarified, “they want to shoot you. Pat Garrett, Bob Ford, Jack McCall—everyone knows the names of the men who kill famous gunfighters. They’re lookin’ for fame and some free drinks.”
    â€œSam Fortune doesn’t rank up there with those.”
    â€œMaybe not in the states, but you certainly do in the Territory. Ain’t that so, Kiowa?”
    Fox scraped his tin plate with his knife. “Ladosa’s right, amigo.”
    â€œYou want to go for a ride, darlin’?” Sam invited.
    â€œI thought you said you didn’t have a horse?” she countered.
    â€œWe don’t. But we can all ride in your wagon.”
    With him sitting and her standing, their heads were about the same height, though she was still unseen in the darkness. “You want me to hitch up my