[October 2020]
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Chapters: 2
Word Count: 17,848
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Warnings: None
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GOOD SAMARITANS
by
Eleanor Ward
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Curry and Heyes risk their lives, and their freedom, to aid some stranded settlers.
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* * *
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Two horses loped across the scrubland, their riders casting periodic glances behind and around them. The surrounding land was fairly flat, giving little in the way of cover. Some distance up ahead though were some hills, which would afford some cover and hopefully some shelter for the night in one of the valleys in between them.
“Do you think we lost him?” Kid Curry glanced across at his partner.
“For now.” Hannibal Heyes replied.
They had received a telegraph the previous afternoon, at the small town they were in, in Nebraska, from Lom Trevors, telling them to come to Porterville “with urgency” but with no other explanation. Heyes had wired back to say they would be there in three days. Planning to leave early the next morning they had debated the possible reasons for the telegraph while enjoying a last drink in the saloon. Before they’d had much time to discuss it however, a well known Bounty Hunter, named Jeb Silverton, had come into the saloon and they’d had to make an immediate exit from the town after he had shown a little too much interest in them.
Although they hadn’t seen him since leaving town, they were pretty sure that he would be on their trail. Jeb Silverton had a formidable reputation as a tracker and a fast draw, and none of those he had captured had ever been brought in alive. They had seen him once before, the previous year, bringing two dead bodies into town, learning his identity from the locals who spoke about him in tones of both awe and disgust, and they had made a point of committing his face to memory in case they should ever see him again. Curry himself had a reputation of being ‘the fastest gun in the west’ but he didn’t feel inclined to test himself against Jeb Silverton if it was avoidable.
They’d ridden through the night to give themselves a good lead in any possible pursuit and, after crossing into Wyoming, they’d stopped off at La Grange where they quickly stocked up with enough supplies for the remainder of their journey to Porterville, not having had time to do so before their hurried departure.
After riding until lunch time they felt safe enough to stop to rest their horses and have a bite to eat before heading on again.
A couple of hours later, they approached the top of the line of hills they’d spotted earlier.
Reaching the crest they pulled up their horses to survey the lay of the land.
There was a fairly steep slope going down to a narrow valley below and, as they looked along it, they were surprised to see a caravan of covered wagons wending its way along the valley floor.
There were eight wagons, with a tall man, aged about forty, wearing leather pants and a sheepskin jacket, riding out front.
“Settlers.” said Heyes.
Curry nodded. More and more settlers were heading out west to stake a claim to some of the fertile lands in the territory.
Suddenly, movement further along on the opposite ridge caught Heyes’ eye.
“Indians!” he gasped.
Curry followed his gaze and then looked back at the caravan.
“They’re heading right into an ambush.”
“We need to warn them.” said Heyes.
“I don’t—“ Curry began but didn’t get to finish as Heyes, without waiting for his agreement, drew his gun and set off down the hillside towards the caravan, firing into the air.
A moment later Curry reluctantly followed, thinking that this was not a good idea.
“Look out ahead!” Heyes shouted towards the caravan, pointing towards the Indians.
“Ambush!” shouted Curry.
The caravan guide pulled up his horse as he saw the two horsemen racing down the hill towards them.
Hearing what they were shouting, he turned his horse abruptly and shouted. “Turn the wagons around, quick! The Indians are going to ambush us!”
The wagon drivers raced to obey his order.
The Indians, furious at having their trap exposed, turned in pursuit of the two men who had ruined their ambush, who had now holstered their guns as they galloped flat out towards the caravan.
"If they get their hands on us, we’re dead!” Curry yelled to Heyes
Heyes shot him a grin, part of him enjoying the thrill of the chase.
“Don’t worry, Kid! We’ve got a good lead on them!”
Curry gave him a rueful look. They might reach the safety of the caravan, but would they survive the attack that was to come?
They were only a couple of hundred yards from the caravan when Heyes’ horse was stuck by an arrow from one of the Indians who were riding ahead of the main pack. The horse stumbled and collapsed, throwing him over its head. He hit the ground hard and lay still.
“Heyes!” yelled Curry, jerking his horse to a halt, “Heyes?”
Turning his horse he quickly rode across to where Heyes was lying and jumped down, dropping to his knees by his side and shaking him.
“Heyes!” he called again but there was no response. There was a cut on his forehead, presumably from hitting a rock as he’d fallen, but there didn’t appear to be any other obvious injuries so Curry quickly hoisted him up and threw him across his horse.
He turned to look back at the Indians. The distance between them had narrowed considerably.
As they prepared to fire their arrows, Curry quickly pulled his rifle from his saddle and, dropping to one knee, took aim and fired, taking out the front runners, before scrambling up on his horse, behind Heyes’ unconscious form, and taking off at a gallop.
The settlers, who were hurriedly pulling the wagons into a circle, waved him on.
Curry’s horse skidded into the centre of the group of wagons as the driver of the last wagon pulled it into place to complete the circle.
He dismounted and carried the still unconscious Heyes to a safe spot and lay him down. He checked his pulse, pleased to note it was strong and regular. Hopefully he’d just been knocked out by the fall and hadn’t sustained any broken bones or other serious injuries.
The man who had been leading the caravan, now with a rifle in his hands, yelled. “Fire at will!”
The settlers all fired their weapons. Grabbing his rifle, Curry ran across and knelt alongside the man who had been guiding the caravan and began firing at the Indians.
The Indians reached the circle of caravans and rode around them, firing arrows and shrieking at the top of their voices.
After a lengthy gun battle, which inflicted numerous casualties amongst the Indians, they retreated to the hills.
The settlers gave cheers of relief that none of their number had been injured or killed.
“Stay at your posts!” The caravan guide ordered. “They’ll probably attack us again.”
“You can bet on it.” said Curry, as he reloaded his rifle.
The guide looked at him now.
“We owe you and your friend our lives. If you hadn’t warned us, we’d probably all be dead now.”
“No probably about it.” said Curry.
The man extended his hand. “I’m Andrew Palmer. I’m guiding these settlers."
“Thaddeus Jones.” Curry shook Palmer’s hand, “Where’re you headed?”
“North of Wheatland, near the river.”
Curry nodded. He had a vague idea of the area, probably a week’s journey from where they were now.
A groan from Heyes drew his attention and he crossed to crouch at his side, Palmer following him.
Heyes had struggled up onto one elbow and was holding his head with his other hand.
“Hey, Joshua, are you O.K?” he asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“What happened?” groaned Heyes.
“Your horse took an arrow, threw you off. You hit your head.” said Curry.
“Ah.” said Heyes, digesting the information.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” asked Curry.
“My shoulder hurts, and my head, but otherwise…” Heyes gave himself a cursory examination, “no, I think I’m O.K.”
“I’ll get one of the women to take care of that cut for you.” said Palmer, “I’m Andrew Palmer, the guide of this group.” He extended his hand to Heyes, “I just said to your friend here, if it hadn’t been for you two we’d probably all be dead now.”
Heyes reached up to shake Palmer’s hand, “Joshua Smith.”
He struggled into a sitting position while Palmer fetched one of the women to treat the cut on Heyes’ head, around which a bruise was beginning to form.
“How many Indians are left?” Heyes asked while the woman tended to him.
“More than half.” replied Palmer.
“Then I guess they’ll be back.” he said, exchanging glances with Curry.
Curry nodded, bending to help Heyes to his feet, holding onto his arm to support him as he swayed dizzily.
“Are you alright?” he asked, worriedly.
“Yeah, just a bit light headed is all.” said Heyes.
“That was quite a crack on the head you took, you should rest a while.” Curry told him.
“I’ll be alright.” said Heyes.
A few minutes later, shrieking indicated that the Indians were making their second attack.
“Here they come again!” exclaimed Palmer, “Keep to your posts and make your shots count!”
Since Heyes had lost his gun and his rifle in the fall from his horse, Palmer loaned him a rifle.
Once again, the settlers fired their weapons, Heyes and Curry alongside them. On the whole, they respected the native people and believed they were much mistreated by the white men, but, when they were trying to kill you, it was a case of every man for himself.
Suddenly, an arrow pierced Andrew Palmer’s chest. Without a sound, he fell sideways to land face down in the dirt.
Curry took aim and fired at the Indian whose arrow had struck Palmer, hitting him square in the chest. The Indian fell to the ground dead. It appeared that this man was the leader of the group because, when they saw him fall to the ground, they turned and began to retreat back into the hills.
Once more, the settlers gave cheers of relief at their survival, which trailed off when they saw their guide on the ground with an arrow sticking out of his chest.
Curry knelt down by Palmer’s side.
“Dead?” Heyes enquired.
Curry nodded.
The settlers approached, slowly, while the women and children poked their heads cautiously out of the wagons.
“What is to become of us now?” muttered one of the men, staring at Palmer’s body.
“Without our guide, we cannot continue our journey.” said another. Both had strange accents that Heyes and Curry had never heard before.
“Isn’t there anyone else amongst you who knows the route?” asked Heyes.
The men shook their heads.
We are colonists, from Denmark.” explained one of them, “They told us that in Wyoming there is lots of wild land waiting for someone to settle and cultivate it. That is the reason for our trip, to establish ourselves in that land and work it.”
“We hired Andrew Palmer to guide us there,” said another, “But he won't be able to do it now.”
“Where, exactly, do you plan to settle?” asked Heyes.
“To the west of Laramie.” one of the settlers replied, “Someone who passed through that place assured us that the lands there are very fertile.”
“North of Wheatland, near the river.” Curry expanded.
Heyes nodded thoughtfully, “Yes, there’s no shortage of water up there, and good, fertile land.”
The settlers looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.
“Will you guide us there?” one of them asked presently.
Heyes and Curry exchanged glances.
“Sorry folks, but we…” Heyes began.
“We were going to pay Andrew Palmer two hundred and fifty dollars at the end of the trip.” the same man said, “If you take us there, it will be yours.”
Heyes glanced again at Curry but he was looking the other way.
“I’m afraid we can’t. My partner and I have other commitments, right, Thaddeus?”
Curry wasn’t listening, his gaze having been taken by a young woman, peeking out of the opening in the awning of the nearest wagon. She had long corn coloured hair and big blue eyes. As their eyes met, a ghost of a smile touched her lips. Curry thought she was just about the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Behind her, another woman, aged probably around forty-five was also peeking around the awning. Judging from their resemblance he deduced that the woman was the young woman's Mother. She also had her eyes fixed on him and both seemed to be imploring him to agree to be their guide.
“Thaddeus?” Heyes’ voice cut into his thoughts.
“Hmm?” he said, turning to look at him.
“I said, we can’t lead this caravan because we have other commitments, right?” He gave Curry a knowing look.
Curry stroked his chin thoughtfully, glancing back to the young woman in the wagon.
“Without a guide these people are in big trouble, Joshua. We can’t just abandon them.” he said presently.
Heyes looked at him like he’d taken leave of his senses. With a Bounty Hunter quite probably on their trail and with Lom expecting them in Porterville a couple of days from now, taking the time to escort these settlers to the other side of the territory wasn’t a luxury they could afford.
“But, Thaddeus, you know we have to meet those commitments.”
“They can wait.” said Curry.
“They can’t wait, Thaddeus, and you know it.” Heyes said, his tone a little irritated, wondering what the hell had gotten into him.
Curry’s eyes once again met those of the young woman in the wagon. Heyes followed his gaze and the penny dropped.
“We can’t abandon them. I’m willing to guide them.”
“Thaddeus…” Heyes began, but Curry spoke over him.
“We’ve always been ready to help people in need, without stopping to think about the risks.”
Heyes gave a frustrated sigh. “I know that, but our other… commitments… are just too important right now.”
“These people’s lives are more important right now.” he said, his tone saying that he wasn’t going to discuss it any further.
Heyes thought he’d lost his mind and that agreeing to guide the caravan could very well end up with them both getting killed, but, in reality, he too knew that if they abandoned these settlers now, strangers to the country and its dangers, their chances of surviving long enough to reach their destination weren’t good.
He wanted to say ‘and what about our lives?’ but, realizing he would be wasting his breath, he lifted his shoulders in a defeated shrug. “O.K.”
One of the settlers held out his hand to Curry, relief on his face.
“Thank you.”
Curry shook the other man’s hand.
“I am Oscar Thorensen.” the man introduced himself.
“Thaddeus Jones, and this is my partner, Joshua Smith.”
Oscar let go of Curry’s hand and moved to shake Heyes’.
The other settlers approached and introduced themselves, obviously grateful to them for warning them of the ambush and saving their lives.
Once the introductions were over, Oscar turned to Heyes.
“You lost your horse. Keep Andrew Palmer’s. He won’t be needing it any more.” He pointed towards Palmer’s horse tethered to one of the wagons.
Heyes crossed to the horse, a very attractive Palomino, and gave it a quick examination before stroking its muzzle and patting its neck.
“He’s a nice looking horse.” he said.
“Mr. Palmer was very proud of him.” said Oscar.
“I can see why.” Heyes acknowledged.
Oscar turned to Curry. “Well, we remain at your service, Mr Jones. You will tell us when we will resume the journey?”
“Not yet,” said Curry. “and please, call me Thaddeus. Keep the wagons in a circle and the women and children should remain inside them for now, to be on the safe side. Joshua and I will go out and take a look around. I think the Indians have hi-tailed it for now, but its best if we make sure.”
Oscar nodded and then turned to look at the body of Andrew Palmer.
“What about him?” he asked.
“We’ll bury him in the hills.” Curry told him, “Come on, Joshua.”
He crossed to his horse and mounted it, Heyes mounting the Palomino and coming to join him.
One of the settlers produced two shovels, which he handed to them to use for Palmer’s burial, while some of the other settlers moved one of the wagons enough to allow them to exit the circle and they headed off at a cautious trot, Palmer’s body slung across Curry’s horse.
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Heyes chided him as they headed towards the spot where Heyes’ horse had thrown him.
“You were the one who charged in to warn them,” said Curry. “without bothering to wait and ask me if I thought it was a good idea!” he added, giving him a pointed look.
“Well, yes, but I didn’t intend for us to end up leading them to the other side of the territory.” growled Heyes, “In case you’ve forgotten, Jeb Silverton is probably on our trail even now, and, even if we don’t run into him, if we take those settlers to where they want to go we’re gonna be about two weeks late getting to Porterville. I don’t know what Lom wants to see us about, but he said ‘with urgency’. He’s gonna be livid if we don’t show up.”
“They lost their guide, Heyes. Without help, they aint gonna make it to Wheatland. If you want to go on ahead to Porterville, feel free. I can join you afterwards.”
Heyes contemplated that but then shook his head. With Jeb Silverton out there somewhere, travelling alone wasn’t a good idea. Nor did he want to leave Curry to lead the caravan alone. Not after what had happened to Andrew Palmer. He glanced at his body slung across Curry’s horse. Palmer had been a professional guide yet had still been caught out by the Indians’ attack.
“No. It’s best if we stay together.” he said.
Curry nodded.
“I know why you’re doing this.” Heyes said, a few moments later.
At Curry’s puzzled look, he said, “Because of that girl.”
“What girl?”
“That blonde girl who was looking out the back of the wagon.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” scoffed Curry.
“I got eyes, Kid, I saw the way you were lookin’ at her.”
“Oh, that girl.” said Curry.
“Yeah, that girl.”
“She was very pretty,” Curry smiled now, “but that’s not why I said we’d lead the caravan.”
“Of course it wasn’t.” Heyes said sarcastically.
“It wasn’t.” insisted Curry, “If their guide hadn’t got killed, we’d have just gone on our way.”
“Sure we would.” Heyes rolled his eyes, “Just don’t go fallin’ in love with her. We’re still wanted men don’t forget.”
Curry gave him a withering look, “I said she was pretty. I didn’t say nothin’ about love an’ marriage… Oh, look, there’s your gun.”
They had arrived at the spot where Heyes’ horse had been killed.
They dismounted and Heyes retrieved his gun from where it had fallen, a few feet from his dead horse, and replaced it in his holster, before moving to retrieve his saddlebags and other belongings from the horse and transferring them to the Palomino.
They rode on a little further, to the base of one of the hills, and set about digging a grave for Andrew Palmer, while keeping one eye open for a sign of any of the Indians.
After burying his body, they made a search of the hills but found no trace of the Indians.
“Looks like they’re gone, Heyes. The caravan should be safe to go through the valley.”
Heyes nodded. “Maybe they decided the settlers are too well armed and don’t want to risk losing any more of their men.” He glanced westwards, to where the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon. “It’ll be dark soon. Probably best to stay where they are tonight, and head off in the morning.”
“Yeah. Let’s get back.” said Curry.
Turning their horses they headed back towards the caravan.
“Heyes?” said Curry as they rode.
“Yeah?”
“Where the heck is Denmark anyway?”
​* * *
Oscar Thorensen met them as they rode back into the camp.
“Are the Indians gone?” he asked anxiously.
“Seem to be.” said Heyes.
“It’ll be dark soon. Best we stay here for the night and head off in the morning. Joshua and I will take it in turns to keep watch, during the night, in case they should come back.” Curry told them.
“As you wish.” said Oscar.
They had a fire going now and some of the women were preparing food.
“Won’t you both join with me and my family for supper?” Oscar enquired.
“Well, that would be mighty fine, Mr. Thorensen.” smiled Curry, exchanging glances with Heyes who smiled his acceptance.
“After you finish unsaddling your horses please come over and join us. It’s that wagon there.” He pointed to the very wagon that Curry had seen the girl in earlier.
“We’ll be right there.” smiled Curry.
They unsaddled their horses in record time and headed across to the Thorensen’s wagon. After losing a night’s sleep the previous night both of them were dog tired and looking forward to turning in, but the smell of food cooking was more overpowering even than the pull of sleep.
Oscar Thorensen smiled a greeting and invited them to seat themselves on some stools.
“This is my wife, Freja,” he introduced. Curry and Heyes both stood up again, tipped their hats and echoed, “M’am.”
“And this is my daughter, Ella.”
“My pleasure.” said Curry, removing his hat as he met Ella’s eyes and giving her a broad smile. She smiled back.
“Nice to meet you both.” said Heyes, briefly removing his hat before replacing it again.
“Please, sit down,” said Freja in a sing-song voice, “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
They sat down again, and Oscar Thorensen did the same.
They made small talk until, a short time later, Freja served up dinner.
Heyes and Curry had no idea what the dish was but it was delicious.
“You like?” asked Oscar, seeing their delighted expressions as they ate.
“Oh, yeah.” said Curry.
“Excellent.” agreed Heyes.
“It’s a dish called MillionbØf.” said Freja, “It is a Danish speciality, beef stewed alongside onions and spices. At home we serve it with mashed potatoes, but we don’t have any with us so I just made what you call biscuits?”
“Well, even without the potatoes, it’s delicious.” said Heyes.
“My wife is an excellent cook,” smiled Oscar, “as is Ella.”
“Is that so, Ella?” Curry asked, studying the young woman’s face intently.
Ella blushed, “I’ve had a good teacher,” she smiled, looking at her mother, “but I’m not up to her standards yet.”
“Not true, daughter,” smiled Freja, “Sometimes I think you even surpass me.”
“How about Ella prepares the next meal and Thaddeus and I will take a vote as to who is the best cook?” Heyes suggested, with a grin.
“Challenge accepted.” smiled Oscar.
They’d just finished eating when a young, blonde man approached the wagon. He looked to be aged around twenty five, tall and broad shouldered.
Oscar introduced him as Noah Frieberg.
Noah smiled, politely, but it didn’t appear to reach his eyes.
“Have you had dinner yet, Noah?” asked Oscar.
“Yes, I have.”
“Then will you have some coffee?”
“Thank you, Mr. Thorensen.” Noah agreed, taking a stool and seating himself between Curry and Ella.
After drinking the coffee Oscar poured for them all, Noah turned to Ella.
“Shall we take a walk, Ella?”
“Later, Noah.” replied Ella.
“Why not now?”
“Because we have company.” Ella waved her hand towards Curry and Heyes.
“Oh, don’t worry about us, go take your walk.” smiled Heyes, drawing a sour look from Curry which just made him smile wider.
“But don’t go far from the camp,” Oscar warned, “It could be dangerous.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll stay close to the wagons.” smiled Noah, “Come on, Ella.”
Ella got up and with a smile at Curry and Heyes she and Noah walked away.
Curry watched them leave the camp.
“Noah is such a pleasant boy.” smiled Freja.
Oscar nodded. “Yes, strong, honest and a hard worker. If he marries Ella we will have strong grandchildren.”
“Are they engaged to be married?” Curry asked.
“No, although if it were up to Noah they would be married already. But Ella is not in any rush.”
“Well, she must be sure she is marrying the right man.” said Freja, “Marriage is a big step. She should not agree if there are any doubts in her mind.”
“I agree.” said Curry. Draining the last of his coffee he stood up, Heyes following suit.
“Thanks for dinner.” he smiled at Freja.
“Yes, it was delicious, thank you, M’am.” added Heyes.
“You are very welcome.” smiled Freja.
“And tomorrow Ella will cook, and you can give your opinion.” said Oscar.
“We’ll look forward to it.” said Heyes.
Tipping their hats they left the wagon and headed off to the far side of the camp where they’d left their things.
“I’ll take first watch, you get some sleep.” Curry told Heyes. Where he’d hit his head there was now quite a sizeable lump and, even though he hadn’t said anything, Curry could tell that he was still feeling the effects of the fall from his horse.
Heyes gave him a grateful smile.
“O.K. Wake me up when you want me to take over.”
He pulled off his boots and then stretched out on his bedroll and pulled the blanket over himself.
“Will do.” Curry picked up his rifle left the camp.
It was a clear night with almost a full moon and the stars shining brightly.
Curry strolled slowly around the camp, yawning, envying Heyes his sleep.
He’d gone around thirty yards when he heard voices coming from the other side of one of the wagons. He stopped walking, recognizing the voice of Ella Thorensen.
He made to turn away and walk in the opposite direction so as not to intrude on their privacy but found himself staying put, overcome by curiosity as to what she and Noah Frieberg were talking about.
“We should get back, Noah.” said Ella.
“Not yet.”
“It’s late. I’m tired.”
“It’s not that late.”
“Please, Noah…”
There was silence for a moment. Then Noah spoke.
“Why have you turned your face away?”
“Let go of me.”
“Don’t you want me to kiss you?”
“I told you, I’m tired, I want to go to bed.”
There was another silence before Noah said, “That’s not the reason.”
“What?”
“You have been behaving very strangely tonight, and I know why.”
“Oh?”
“It’s because of that guy, Thaddeus Jones.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“I saw the way you looked at him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“And he was looking at you too, in a way I did not like.”
“I didn’t notice anything.”
“Yes you did. He has eyes for you Ella.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“I’m not.”
“Can I help it if he looked at me occasionally? I’m not a monster. And I had to look at him because we were all talking, but that doesn’t mean we are in love with each other.”
“I hope not, for your sake.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, I just don’t want you to fall in love with that guy.”
“You should be grateful to him, because without the intervention of him and his friend, we would all have died at the hands of those Indians.”
“I do not deny that we owe them our lives. Nor do I deny that they are doing us a big favour by agreeing to guide us, but I don’t trust him.”
“Why not?”
“I have a hunch he is running from the law.”
Curry sucked in a breath.
“Why would you think that?” demanded Ella.
“I don’t know. Something about his manner, and the way he wears his gun, low, like a gunfighter, and the way his friend was so insistent they had other commitments and couldn’t stay. He seemed almost afraid to stay.”
“If Thaddeus was on the run from the law he would not have agreed to guide us. Why would he risk his freedom to help a group of strangers?”
“Perhaps he is not doing it for us, but for you.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I told you, Ella, he likes you. Take my advice and stay away from him.”
“I am not a child, Noah. I do not need you to tell me what I should and should not do. I’m not going to listen to any more of this nonsense.”
“Wait, Ella.”
“Let go of my arm, Noah. I’m not going to talk about this any more.”
“Alright, forget about him. Let’s talk about us.”
“I don’t want to talk about us either.”
“Ella, I love you.”
“You have told me so often.”
“But you have not told me once.”
“I can’t tell you if I don’t yet know myself.”
“Ella…”
“No kissing!”
“Just one.”
“No!”
“Ella…”
“I said, no. Let go of me, or I’ll slap you.”
Suddenly, Curry heard a resounding slap.
“You hit me…” Noah sounded shocked.
“I warned you I would if you didn’t stop, and I’ll do it again if you don’t let go of me right now.”
“No.”
“Let go of me.”
“When I’ve kissed you.”
“No, leave—“
Her sentence was cut off, and Curry guessed that Noah had managed to kiss her against her wishes.
He decided it was time to intervene.
Quietly, he circled the wagon and approached them.
Noah had Ella in a bear hug, kissing her ardently. She struggled to get free but to no avail.
Curry cleared his throat.
Noah stopped kissing her and turned to look at him.
“Jones!” he exclaimed.
“Is there a problem, Ella?” Curry looked at her.
For a moment she looked at him too and then managed to wriggle free of Noah’s arms.
Taking a step back she shouted, “Get out of my sight, Noah, and don’t speak to me again!” her eyes flashing angrily.
Noah looked from her to Curry and back again before turning and stalking away.
Once he was out of sight, Curry approached her.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes,” she nodded, trying to calm her anger.
“What happened?”
“He was kissing me without my consent.”
“Isn’t he your… fiance?”
Ella shook her head, “We’re just friends, or rather we were. After this I will not speak to him ever again.”
“Shall I walk you to your wagon?” asked Curry.
“Yes, thank you, but not yet. I don’t want my parents see me upset.”
“I understand.”
“Will you stay and talk to me for a little while?”
“Of course.”
“I like chatting, finding out about people. I’d like to find out a little about you.” she smiled, shyly.
Curry chuckled, “There’s not much to know.”
She studied him momentarily.
“Do you always tell the truth?”
Curry scratched his head, “That’s an odd question.”
“Well, if you answer no, then what would be the point in asking you more, if I can’t trust your answers.”
Curry laughed, “That’s true I guess.”
“So?”
Curry thought for a moment.
“Alright. The truth? I’d like to always tell the truth, but sometimes I have no choice but to lie. Doesn’t everyone, at some point?”
Ella thought about that for a moment.
“I suppose so, but I don’t want you to lie to me, Thaddeus.”
Curry laughed again and held up his right hand.
“Alright, I promise not to. If you ask me something I can’t answer truthfully I’ll say I prefer not to answer. How’s that?”
“Alright.”
“So, what do you want to know?”
“Where are you from?”
“Kansas.”
“Where is that?”
“Oh, about five hundred miles east of here.
“Do you live there?”
“Not any more. Joshua and I move around a lot, wherever work takes us.”
“What work do you do?”
“Anything that comes our way.”
“Honest work?”
Having overhead her conversation with Noah, Curry knew she was trying to find out if he was indeed on the run from the law. He would have to tread carefully.
“Joshua and I don’t do anything that’s against the law.” he said truthfully.
“No, or you would be hunted down and sent to jail, no?”
“Or the gallows, if the crime was serious enough.”
Ella met his eyes, preparing to ask the key question.
“Are you on the run from someone?”
Curry pretended to be surprised, “Why do you ask that?”
Ella shrugged.
“Do I look like an outlaw?”
“No.”
“Then why do you ask?”
“Please, answer my question.” Ella looked at him with huge eyes that seemed on the verge of tears, “Are you on the run from someone?”
Curry looked into her eyes and lost his resolve.
“Kind of.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re not running from a crime, not any more anyway.”
“I don’t understand. What are you running from then?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
“I need to know.” she begged.
Curry looked into her eyes and sighed. He’d said too much already, and really ought to end the discussion, but, if he didn’t explain she would get the wrong idea about them.
“Joshua and I, we used to be thieves, but we negotiated a deal, with the Governor of Wyoming, to get an amnesty – that’s a pardon for our crimes,” he explained when she looked confused, “He told us we can get that amnesty if we stay out of trouble for a year, but that deal is a secret between us and him, so nobody we stole from knows about it and we’ll still be officially wanted until then, and if someone recognizes us, or we get arrested - for anything - we’ll go to jail, for a long time. So we have to keep on the move, to lessen the risk of someone recognizing us.”
“So, your friend didn’t want you to stay here because someone is trying to catch you?”
“Someone saw us, who knows who we are. He might be tracking us.” admitted Curry.
There was silence.
“We never murdered anyone, Ella, so we wouldn’t get sent to the gallows, but we would be sent to jail, for twenty years.”
Ella gasped, “Twenty years? For stealing?”
“We stole from railroads and banks. They didn’t like it. They want to make an example of us.”
He studied her face as she contemplated his words.
“Thaddeus” she said presently.
“Yes.”
“Why did you agree to guide our caravan?”
Curry smiled slightly, “Because your guide was killed and you needed one.”
“But aren’t you afraid…?”
“We live with the risk of someone catching, or killing us, every day. But sometimes, some things are more important than worrying about that risk.”
“But…”
“I’m going to tell you something, Ella... You had a lot to do with my agreeing to take the risk of leading the caravan.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
In answer, Curry put his arm around her waist and drew her towards him, bending to kiss her on the lips.
When she didn’t pull away, or slap him, as she had Noah, he put his other arm around her and deepened the kiss, Ella bringing her arms up around him as she responded to him.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him backwards.
Curry turned in the direction.
He didn’t see the fist coming towards his face, which hit him full in the jaw, knocking him to the ground, dazed.
“Noah!” yelled Ella.
The young settler glared at her angrily.
“So, I’m imagining things am I?”
“I—“
“I didn’t see you objecting to his kiss.”
He made a grab for her, but she stepped back and slapped his face, forcefully.
He stared at her for a couple of seconds and then returned her slap with a hard one of his own.
Ella gave a cry and fell to the ground.
Curry, who had now scrambled to his feet said, “Only a coward hits a woman.”
Noah advanced towards him.
“When I’ve finished with you she won’t be able to recognize you.”
He aimed a punch at him, but Curry ducked it and hit him hard in the stomach.
Noah gave a grunt of pain.
A second later, Curry hit him with his other fist, catching him on the cheekbone.
Noah stumbled and Curry threw another punch to his jaw that sent him to the ground.
Ella, now on her feet, tried to approach, to stop the fight, but Curry put out a hand to stop her.
“Stay there. We’re not done yet, right, Frieberg?”
Noah scrambled to his feet, eyes blazing.
“I’m going to take you apart!” he growled.
“Come on then.” Curry beckoned him forward.
Noah flew at him but was stopped by a right to the solar plexus.
As he doubled over, Curry threw a few more punches, the last one hitting him square in the jaw.
Noah fell to the ground and lay still.
Curry bent down to retrieve his rifle, which had fallen to the ground when Noah had hit him.
Ella crouched down beside Noah to examine him.
“You knocked him out!” she said.
“So it seems.”
“It’s the first time anyone has beaten Noah in a fist fight.”
“I’m sorry I had to do it, but it’s wrong to hit a woman.”
“Do you think he heard our conversation?” Ella asked worriedly.
“It’s possible.”
“What if he tells the others? What might they do?”
“I don’t know. They might ask us to leave, I guess, but I don’t think that will happen because they need us to guide the caravan.”
“Perhaps he didn’t hear.” Ella said, hopefully.
“Let’s hope not.. I can trust you, can’t I, Ella, not to breathe a word of what I’ve told you, to anyone?”
“You have my word, Thaddeus.”
“Not even to Joshua.”
“But..?” Ella looked puzzled.
“Please. He wouldn’t understand.” said Curry. In truth, Heyes would understand very well, but he would be furious that he had willingly divulged the information they were sworn to keep secret, to a virtual stranger, and risked putting them both in danger if Noah had overheard and told the other settlers. Not that they weren’t in enough danger already he mused.
“If it’s what you wish, then I promise.” said Ella.
“Thank you.” Curry nodded, “Come on, I’ll walk you to your wagon.”
​* * *
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Oscar Thorensen and his wife were surprised to see Ella returning with Thaddeus instead of Noah.
"Where’s Noah?” Oscar questioned.
Ella was aware that it would be useless to hide that she and Noah had argued, since her parents would find out sooner or later, so just said, "Noah and I are no longer friends."
Oscar exchanged glances with his wife.
“What happened?” asked Freja.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” replied Ella, keeping her head tilted so that her hair hid the mark on her cheek from where Noah had hit her.
Her father wasn’t fooled however.
“What is wrong with your face?” he asked.
“Nothing. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
As she made to climb into the wagon her father stepped across and caught her arm, turning her to face him and putting his hand under her chin.
“What is this?” he demanded, eyeing the red mark on her cheek.
Ella didn’t reply, pulling her face free from her Father’s hand and lowering her eyes.
“Did Noah do this?” he asked, taking her silence as confirmation, “I’m going after him.”
“No, wait…” Ella grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving.
“I’ll teach him to lay a hand on my daughter.” growled Oscar, pulling his arm free from her grasp.
“He already got his due, Sir.” Curry put in now.
Oscar turned to look at him.
“It’s true, Father.” said Ella, “Thaddeus was passing by the wagon when he heard us arguing. They fought. Thaddeus knocked him unconscious.”
“You beat Noah Frieberg?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, you have my thanks for intervening to help my daughter.” Oscar bent his head in a nod of gratitude.
“Why did Noah hit you, Ella? He has never behaved like this before, has he?” asked her Mother.
“Because I hit him.” said Ella defiantly.
“Why?”
“Because he tried to kiss me without my consent.”
“Well, that’s no reason for…” Freja began, but Ella spoke over her.
“I don’t want to discuss it any more now. I’m going to bed.”
With that she turned and climbed into the wagon.
Curry bade them goodnight and headed back to where Noah Frieberg lay, still unconscious.
He took up a position where he could watch Noah but would not be seen by him, and waited.
Some minutes later Noah regained his senses. He ran his hands over his face and then stood up, somewhat unsteadily.
Curry watched from his hiding place, wondering if he would go back to his own wagon or go looking for Curry, for revenge, or perhaps, if he’d overhead their conversation, to one of the other settlers, to tell what he’d learned.
He breathed a sigh of relief when Noah went straight to his own wagon and climbed in. Perhaps he hadn’t overheard their conversation after all, he mused, even as his intuition told him otherwise.
He continued his rounds of the camp until one o’clock before heading back to where Heyes was sleeping.
He felt guilty, waking him, but he needed to get some sleep himself, before he passed out from exhaustion, so he gently shook him.
Heyes woke with a start, “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Everything’s quiet.” he said, deciding not to mention what had happened with Noah.
“My turn to watch, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m so tired I’m gonna be asleep standing up pretty soon.” Curry smiled.
Heyes grinned, sitting up and beginning to pull on his boots.
“No sign of the Indians?” he enquired.
Curry shook his head, “None.”
“Let’s hope we can get through the valley tomorrow, before they decide to come back.” Heyes said, as he got to his feet.
Curry nodded. “Here, take this.” he said, handing him the rifle.
Heyes took it and Curry sat down and pulled off his boots before taking Heyes’ place beneath the blanket, asleep before Heyes had even walked twenty feet away
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