Brave are the Lonely Page 2

  “Smells good. Thanks.” Kid’s words followed Cody back down the path and into the brush. He carried the female a mile and deposited her amongst some leaves at the base of a tree. He nudged her face with his nose and whuffled the scent, remembering it and thanking her spirit for the sacrifice.

  The wolf didn’t much care about the ceremony of it, but thoughts of Quanto brought Cody’s upbringing to mind. Living with nature meant appreciating those spirits that passed so that he could eat. He’d chosen a younger female, one not in season, nursing or pregnant. It was the best he could do to assuage his hunger and his duty.

  Rolling through the leaves, he doused the scent of her blood on his fur with loamy earth, briar and foliage. It wouldn’t wash it away completely, but it would make him less attractive to other predators and save him the task of having to kill them.

  The first drops of rain spattered him as he returned to the lean-to. Kid had angled the fire to be sheltered by the leafy roof. The area was smoky, but warm and dry. His mare stood against the back wall of leaves, drowsing with a bag of oats open near her feet. She cracked an eyelid as Cody slid through the gathering dusk to circle the fire.

  The venison sizzled.

  “Saddle’s fixed. Shirt’s mended. There’s clothes in that pack that will fit you if you want to change. We’re low on corn and bread. We’ll have to see if we can get oats ahead or better grazing land for Misty.”

  Cody slid down, forelegs stretching in front of him, back legs tucked and his tail drifting down to lay against the ground. He set his chin on his legs and watched the flickering flames.

  “Sleep, I got first watch. I’ll wake you when the food is ready.” Kid’s voice steadied his descent into the doze. The flickering flames and a redheaded beauty danced together in his mind’s eye. The wolf sighed, darting off into his dreams to remember when Scarlett was his and no others’.

  Chapter 2

  The wind blew flurries of snow from the west as Karl Distain unhitched the horses from his wagon and paid the stable master two nickels. Distain glanced down at the Innkeeper’s two sons. “There’s another nickel for watching the wagon and if you haven’t touched anything when I come back, I’ll give you one more so you get one each.”

  The eldest of the pair tested the nickel with his teeth, his dark eyes hard and filled with no small amount of cunning. “And if we have looked?”

  Distain drew himself up to his full height, removing the shotgun from its holster on the wagon. He was a big man, standing over six feet, the boys backed up a step as he faced them. With the heavy beard he favored, thick trail coat and the hat brim low on his eyes, he also presented a menacing picture. One he gladly used to his advantage.

  “Take a look and find out.”

  The younger of the two paled at his low words, but the fear shivering the air around the pair convinced him they understood the threat. He grabbed a saddlebag and tossed it over his shoulder before lumbering across the yard towards the saloon. Fort Courage began as most forts in the area did, with a handful of settlers and a nominal military force. The Mexican Army abandoned it, leaving the fur trappers, traders and locals the benefit of the high wooden walls to fend off animal and Indian alike.

  This wasn’t Distain’s first visit to Courage. He passed through a couple of times a year. But he’d ridden his team hard since leaving Texas on the trail of his next hunt. The boy moved fast, too fast and vanished for days at a time. But Distain was an expert tracker. The wolf still traveled with the boy.

  That or the boy was the wolf.

  Distain pushed open the heavy double door to Courage’s only saloon. The interior was heavy with heat, smoke, liquor and women. A tinny piano played in one corner, an ancient Mexican-Indian at the keys. No one even looked up as Distain limped his way across the room to the table in the corner. He caught the bartender’s eye and jerked his head to the table.

  Farris owned the saloon and remembered every face that passed through his doors. Unlike most saloons, the winter cold off the mountain meant the place stayed zipped up tight. Distain set his hat on the table and stripped off the heavy trail coat. He turned the chair so the back was pressed to the wall before he sat down, shotgun in easy reach.

  “Whiskey and stew.” He ordered when the bartender reached the table. “And a room with one of the ladies tonight.”

  “Got a preference?” Farris asked after returning with an ancient, cloudy tumbler of whiskey and a steaming wooden bowl filled with a dark stew. The smell set Distain’s stomach twisting. He’d eaten nothing but trail tack for two days trying to close the distance on the wolf. He’d nearly had the kid in Natchez, but the boy lost him in the rain that washed out his trail.

  Courage was the next logical stop. He’d beaten the information out of the girl who’d dallied with him in the stables. She’d begged to give him whatever he wanted, so he sampled the goods and left her bleeding and sore in case she decided to skirt him to warn the wolf.

  “Warm and willing.” He didn’t bother to look over the women in their ruffled bloomers, shoulders bare, buttons straining against ample bosoms and trim waists accented by the drawstrings on their drawers.

  The bartender nodded, accepting three silver pennies with a sweep of his hand across the table. “Room three. She’ll be waiting for you.”

  Distain dismissed the man, tossing back the whiskey to chase away the internal chill and scooping up the stew with the heavy spoon. It was flavorless and the meat hard, but it was hot and it filled the hole. It didn’t take the bartender long to return with the bottle and refill his whiskey and stew. Frustrating days of traveling left him with a powerful appetite. He shifted his sore leg away from the table to stretch it out. The burns, though mostly healed, left his left leg mottled and bruised. The tooth marks on his forearm were scarred over, but he rubbed them occasionally to remind himself of the great, sandy wolf.

  That pelt was going on his wall. He’d joined Ryker’s posse after hearing how the bank in Dorado had been sacked. He’d heard of such things before. He carried many trophies from previous hunts. But Ryker’s posse had been torn apart, burned or shot. He’d barely survived the wolf’s attack and if not for the fire, the wolf would have torn his throat out. He owed the wolf a favor in kind.

  And they were close to their reckoning.

  Distain’s scars ached with it.

  He finished the second bowl and the whiskey and rose to carry his gun, bags, coat and hat up the stairs, limping carefully. He found a defeated eyed beauty waiting for him. He set his things down and locked the door. She came forward to meet him, but he avoided the kiss she offered. He had better things to fill her mouth with.

  * * *

  “Why the hell are we just staying here?” Jimmy demanded, hammering another fence rail into place.

  Buck sighed. Jimmy’s irritation and hostility continued to escalate. He and Cody were close friends as well as brothers. It didn’t escape any of their notice that their hawk-eyed brother was tense over Cody’s disappearance. He’d vanished the night of Scarlett’s wedding and hadn’t come home.

  He was in wolf form. It was all Buck knew. When Buck walked to his dreams, he found the wolf, but the stubborn animal ignored him. He’d spent many nights trying to reason with him, but the animal had no interest in Buck or his stories. Reaching for another board, Buck hammered it into place.

  Half of their brothers had already gone home to the mountain—Buck, Jimmy and Noah were all that remained on Kane land, ostensibly keeping an eye on Scarlett. Well, Buck was. Jimmy waited for Cody when he wasn’t arguing about the merits of going after the shape shifting brother and Noah had his eye on one of the ladies of the house.

  That lady was the reason Noah wasn’t sweating his ass off in the sun with Buck and Jimmy repairing pasture boards taken out by an unruly herd. Instead, he was driving Miss Lena back and forth to town.

  Lucky bastard.

  “Why is Quanto telling us we can’t go after him?” Jimmy’s impatience wore on Buck’s nerves
. He shared Jimmy’s concern, but his brother couldn’t seem to take his focus off Cody’s departure.

  “I told you, he said Cody’s wolf needs the time. He left for a reason. We have to respect that.” Buck didn’t necessarily agree with his father, but unlike Cody or Jimmy, he wouldn’t argue with him. Scarlett could be worse, but they’d decided collectively to keep her out of the loop. Instead, they’d said he’d gone home to the mountain and whenever she asked if he was okay, Buck told her the truth. He seemed well enough.

  “And if he keeps going west? And he needs us?” Jimmy slammed another nail home, securing the board before moving down to the next set of three. They’d been at this for three hours, repairing nearly a mile’s worth of fencing.

  “Then we’ll go.” Buck had no qualms about that. He picked up the broken remains of fencing and tossed them into the wagon before pulling out another longer piece.

  “And the boy?” They’d been careful about not mentioning that he traveled with Cody. Jebidiah Kane hadn’t spoken his youngest son’s name since realizing the boy was gone. Scarlett confided that Jed was really heartbroken, but was too proud to show it. Sam and Micah figured Kid would turn up. He always did after a few days.

  It had been a month and both men were starting to worry. Micah left the Flying K to ride south towards San Antonio. But no word came back.

  Jimmy helped him brace the board and Buck reached for the saw. The longer pieces of wood had to be cut to fit.

  “He’s still with Cody or maybe Cody’s still with him.” Buck measured carefully before setting to work sawing the length in half. “Between you and me, I think that’s why Quanto wants us to leave it alone.”

  Jimmy shoved his Stetson back, squinting in the late afternoon sun. “He thinks the Kid is Fevered.”

  Buck nodded. “He knows he is. But the Kid doesn’t. Cody smelled something different the first time he met him. He gets along pretty well with him too. So maybe there’s something there. I don’t know.”

  “A Fevered who doesn’t know can be dangerous.” Jimmy took the cut board over and set it up to the post, hammering the squat metal nails to secure it. Buck said nothing, Jimmy hadn’t believed he was Fevered from a young age. Until the first time he shot a gun. It took three dead for him to accept it.

  Buck could only pray to the Great Spirit that it wouldn’t take Cody’s death to get Kid to admit too.

  * * *

  Cody growled at the Fort walls looming in the distance. Dusk came early this close to the mountains and the air carried the promise of snow. His nose itched at the scent. Kid rode through the gates an hour before and still wasn’t out.

  Agitation paced through the wolf. Kid left most of their bags at the makeshift camp a mile from the Fort gates, the closest Cody dared to venture. The walls were watched and men with rifles were stationed to overlook the little valley. Kid planned to gather blankets and camp gear before they headed up to make the pass.

  Cody didn’t much care what he needed, but Kid said he’d be back before nightfall.

  The wolf turned a yellow-eyed glare at the golden sun sinking red and orange behind the mountaintop. The wolf couldn’t enter the Fort. He saw no sign of anyone leaving. He watched the sun until it disappeared, leaving only a dark blue blanket of sky with stars peeking out.

  Lips peeling back from his teeth, the wolf heaved a harsh sigh and fell over, fur slipping, muscles twisting, bones reshaping.

  Cody shifted.

  Chapter 3

  The Fort came into sight late morning, but it was mid-afternoon when Kid turned off the trail to drop supplies for Cody. The high soaring wooden walls and armed men were a serious deterrent to bringing the wolf along. Cody’s flat-eyed stare raised all the hairs on Kid’s body, but he ignored it. They needed blankets, a second horse, or maybe a mule and they didn’t have other options before they were in the mountain passes.

  “And unless you want to ride two or three hundred miles out of our way to find a way around through hostile Indians to the north or hostile Mexicans to the south, through the mountains is the way we have to go.”

  Impatience pawed at his skin—impatience and maybe a little concern. Kid repacked his saddlebag, taking only what he needed with him. He didn’t know Fort Courage, he didn’t know the people who ran it, lived there or frequented the fur trappers. He didn’t plan to risk any more of their hard earned money than he had to.

  “I won’t be more than an hour. I want feed for the horses, some dried goods for us, fur blankets those of us who can’t grow our own and maybe a mule.”

  Cody growled a low sound that hinted at a whining note at the very end.

  “If you want a horse, you’re going to have to shift and tell me yourself. A mule will be a sturdier pack animal.” Kid waited. He gazed expectantly at the wolf, which sneezed and paced until he turned his back to Kid and stared at the Fort. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look, Cody…”

  He dared a step in the wolf’s direction and touched the wolf lightly on his shoulder. Cody’s wolf was the biggest dang animal he’d ever seen. The wolf growled at the contact, but he didn’t snap.

  A wild improvement over the first time Kid accidentally patted him. The wolf really didn’t like to be touched.

  “…give me a couple of hours at most. I’ll get what we need and be back. And unless you plan to shift, keep your ass here. I don’t fancy picking buckshot out of your hide.”

  The wolf snorted but his anxiety relaxed and Kid could let out a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t admit it to the wolf, but he appreciated his company, too. The wolf asked for very little, demanded less and trusted Kid to his word. Even when Kid dallied with the wives of other men, the wolf took no offense. His only objections over the last month had been redheads and the Fort.

  Kid could live with that. He removed his hand and mounted the mare. “I’ll be back.”

  He could feel the wolf’s eyes on him all the way down the trail, but he didn’t look back. It wouldn’t change Cody’s watchfulness and it might draw attention from the watchers sitting sentry along the walls of the Fort. The closer he came to the wooden structure, the more admiration filtered through Kid. The walls were smoothed wood, jutting upwards fifteen feet. The log tops were pointed and spiky, providing ample cover for the guards and an uneasy perch for those who tried to scale the walls. A pair of double gates controlled admission. A body had to ride through the first and be trapped between the inner and outer walls before the interior gates opened.

  It really was a Fort built for a siege.

  “State your business.” The man dressed like a shopkeeper, except for the double pistols he wore, one strapped to each thigh.

  “Resupply.” Easy enough to answer.

  “Planning to overnight?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Right. Rules are simple. No fighting. No shooting. No breaking. Got it?”

  A tin star peeked out from inside the man’s heavy coat, the wind dancing down out of the mountains carrying a chilly promise. The shopkeeper was the Fort’s marshal.

  Kid nodded. “Just need to spend some coin and pick up supplies, Marshal.”

  “Sheriff.” The man corrected, jerking his head to the right. “You can stable your horse with Alfonse over there. Long as you’re not all night, we can waive the two penny cost.”

  “Appreciate that.” Kid doffed his Stetson and turned the mare to ride towards the swarthy skinned youth, who was more boy than man. On closer inspection, Alfonse turned out to be a lot older than Kid surmised. The man’s short and stocky stature at odds with his age, the lines creasing his face and the hint of gray in his hair put him closer to forty than fourteen.

  “You want her to eat?” Alfonse asked after Kid dismounted, stripped off his saddlebags and tossed the man his reins.

  “Hay, if you have it. I’ll pay for the freshest. I’m planning to buy oats and grain—you sell that or the general store?”

  Alfonse leaned over and spit to the far side, away from Kid. “You buy
oats from me. Nikko not know his ass from a horse’s fetlock and sell you cracked corn that make horse colic.”

  “Good to know. I need five pounds and I’ll pay you a gold piece for all of it after I check each bag.” Kid studied the man’s furrowed brow and dark eyes.

  “For gold piece, I give you ten pounds.”

  “Six, and that’s the most I can make her carry. I’ll have to rely on spreading it out with her forage.”

  “You crossing Sin Nombre, señor?” Alfonse waved a calloused hand to the purple mountain shoving up toward the sky.

  “If that’s what the locals call it.”

  “Sí, six pounds should be enough if the snows do not come. If they do, there is plateau about fifteen miles between Sin Nombre and El Tenedor Del Diablo, the meadow there stays green a long time. You make it there, you can let her graze day or two before pushing on and conserve your oats.” Truth rang in every word.

  Kid would give him a gold piece just for the information.

  “You know horse shoes?”

  “Sí, señor.”

  “There’s another gold piece if you can check her feet, tighten up her shoes and reshod her if necessary.”

  “Sí. Two hours, señor. I groom her. You want me to check your tack?”

  “I just repaired it, but if you have any scrap leather you’re willing to part with, I’d be obliged.”

  “You need mule?” The man assessed the mare. “A mule could carry the extra oats and eats less than the horse.”

  “Could be. You find me a good one, a sturdy one, and I’ll pay for it and give you a finder’s fee.”

  “Sí señor, Alfonse find you an honest deal. You talk to Alfonse, not Nikko.”

  “Done and done.” Kid held out his right hand and the man gripped it, firm, even and without artifice or show of strength. Kid knew he was a good judge of character. It only took him a few minutes talking to a person to get a real feel for them. Alfonse would do right by him. “Two hours.”