The Rancher's Daughter's Revenge Read online

  “Reckon half the whores in the territory would throw a shindig, that bein’ the case,” Jake tells him, “But don’t you fret, old man, the Kane gang won’t be callin’ back here.”

  “Okay.” Arbogast nods, seemingly reassured. He glances from Jake to you and back again before letting out a sigh as he reluctantly begins: “Heard those boys talkin’ sure enough. Mostly cussing and vulgar talk of womenfolk that I’ll not repeat in front of this fine lady.” You raise an eyebrow at the old pervert’s strangely skewed moral compass. “Anyway, heard them tell of traveling on to Farnborough County.” He continues.

  “We know that.” You interrupt impatiently.

  “They discussed a job that was coming up in a few days.” Arbogast continues, ignoring your comment. “There’s a train coming through. Nothin’ unusual in that, but amongst its goods, this one carries a fortune in gold. Sounds like they were lookin’ to meet the train at Lonely Peak station, get on board and see that that gold never gets to where it’s goin’.”

  “What day?” Jake asks.

  “Thursday at noon.” Arbogast replies.

  “Day after tomorrow.” Jake muses, glancing at you. “We should just about make it in time. We oughta get some shuteye. Reckon it’ll be a long day tomorrow.”

  “The lady’s welcome to sleep inside my shack.” Arbogast suggests with a sly smile.

  “She’ll be fine with me.” Jake growls. Arbogast chuckles and shrugs before stepping inside.

  You sleep well, rising at dawn and getting underway on the next leg of your journey.

  “I apologize for the necessity of you meetin’ that old son of a bitch.” Jake tells you, riding alongside you as you leave Arbogast’s shack behind you.

  “It’s done now,” You shrug, “And at least now we know exactly where the Kane gang will be.”

  “That’s true enough.” Jake concedes before falling into a morose silence.

  As the day wears on, your horses trudge wearily along a well worn path through the prairie.

  “What’s that?” You ask, pointing along the trail ahead. In the distance, you can see smoke rising up, too thick for a campfire.

  “Nothin’ good.” Jake replies grimly, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

  “You think we should go around it?” You ask.

  “Could do, but it’ll take us longer.” He replies. “Still, might be better that than lying dead in the sun while our scalps hang from an Apache’s belt.”

  Continue on the trail

  Find a different route

  “I don’t like the look of it.” You tell Jake.

  “Me neither.” He replies, pulling back on his reins, his horse slowing. “I saw another trail crossin’ this one a few miles back. We’ll double back and try to skirt round. We’ve enough trouble on our hands already. Don’t need to find no more.” You nod, both of you turning and galloping back the way you came.

  The alternative route is a little more circuitous, winding through some hills, but you see no sign of Apaches or bandits at least. You pass a few other travelers, either lone horsemen or wagons, all of whom nod politely and wish you a good day. Both you and Jake surreptitiously keep your hands on the butts of your holstered pistols during these brief exchanges in case there is a wolf in sheep’s clothing among them.

  As the sun drops low in the sky, your horses trot wearily.

  “There’s a little creek not far from here.” Jake tells you. “We oughta let the horses get their fill and make camp nearby.”

  “Have we covered enough distance?” You ask him.

  “Reckon so.” He nods. “If we’re back on the road by dawn, we should reach Lonely Peak in plenty of time.”

  With the horses fed and watered and your own canteens filled to the brim, you set up camp a short distance away. While you unpack your bedding, Jake starts a small campfire before stalking out into the scrub. He skulks a short distance away, low and still, clearly hunting some kind of animal. You watch him for a little while before turning your attention back to the camp. Jake returns a while later, a mysterious skinned creature dangling from his hand.

  “What is that critter?” You ask.

  “They taste pretty good.” He tells you, driving a rudimentary spit through it.

  “That’s not what I asked.” You reply.

  “No, it ain’t.” He grins broadly as he begins to roast it over the fire. His reluctance to let you know what it is only makes you more suspicious, but as he cooks the meat, the smell makes your stomach churn and rumble. When it is cooked, you eagerly eat it, telling yourself it is a morsel from a prime cut of beef. Jake chuckles before greedily eating his own portion. To your annoyance, he stubbornly refuses to name the animal even after you have consumed it all.

  As the sky darkens, rapidly turning to night, you curl up beneath your blanket. Out on the exposed prairie, the temperature drops rapidly and you find yourself wishing you’d bought a thicker blanket back in Lennox Creek. You cast an envious glance at Jake’s bedding, which though worn and frayed in places, seems far more substantial than your own. You huff with irritation and glare across at him: If he’d been a gentleman, he’d have offered you his bedding. You fold your arms tightly across your chest, hugging yourself and wondering how many hours it is until sunrise.

  “You look cold.” Jake tells you through the dying flames of the campfire. “Why don’t you come over here and we can keep each other warm?”

  Join him

  Spurn his not so subtle advances

  “We haven’t got time to run scared every time we see a puff of smoke.” You tell Jake. “I say we press on.”

  “You’ve got guts, lady, I’ll give you that.” He replies. “Might be nothin’, but,” He pulls his pistol from his holster, “Ain’t no harm in bein’ prepared.” You draw your own revolver as you slow your horses to a gentle trot. Jake scans the horizon, presumably searching for any sign of an ambush. Your own gaze is fixed on the distant plume of smoke. As you approach, you can see the charred, smoking remains of three wagons. They were covered wagons by the looks of things, but the canvas has long since burned away, leaving only the iron hoops fixed to the timber beds. One of the wagons is on its side, another missing a wheel and collapsed on one corner. The remaining wagon is positioned across the track. You might be new to life out on the range, but you recognize a makeshift barricade when you see one.

  “Feels like a trap.” Jake growls, voicing your own thoughts.

  Press on past the barricade

  Turn back

  “Let’s spring it then if there’s anyone foolish enough to tangle with us.” You reply resolutely.

  “And to think I mistook you for a shrinking violet.” Jake chuckles, circling the barricade, his pistol held out before him. The sudden boom of a gunshot makes you jump, the bullet splintering the smoldering timber of the wagon nearest Jake. A second follows a moment later, hitting the ground just in front of your horse. She rears up in fright and you quickly clamber down from the saddle before she throws you off. Jake is already doing the same, sprinting into cover behind the upturned wagon as the spooked horses bolt.

  “Sons of bitches!” Jake growls as you scramble across the open ground to join him.

  “Did you spot them?” You ask, your heart pounding.

  “One’s over in the long grass to the east. There’s another in those rocks to the west.” He tells you. “Don’t think there’s more than the two of ‘em.”

  “What shall we do?” You ask him.

  “Fight or flight, sweetheart.” He tells you, glancing to where your horses are watchfully standing a hundred yards away. “We either run like hell for the horses and hope those assholes can’t shoot for shit, or we try to kill them before they kill us.”

  Run for the horses

  Shoot the bandits

  “They were pretty wide of the mark with their shots a moment ago.” You tell Jake. “If we’re quick, we can make it to the horses and be on our way before they shoot us down.”

  “It�
�s a gambler’s chance.” Jake replies doubtfully before gesturing towards the horses. “Ladies first.” You nod and spring up from behind the remains of the wagon, sprinting towards the horses, the long grass whipping at your legs. Two gunshots ring out simultaneously and you hear one of the bullets whistle past you. You grit your teeth as you streak towards the horses, panting with the effort as you go. More gunshots and you hear Jake grunt in pain behind you. You glance over your shoulder, seeing him a few yards behind you, clutching a wounded arm.

  “Jake!” You call out in anguish.

  “No, keep goin’!” He shouts back at you, wildly firing his own pistol back at the hidden bandits. You continue running as more shots boom out. This time one finds its mark, hitting you square in the back and sending you sprawling to the ground.

  “Grace!” Jake cries out, dropping to his knees next to you and rolling you onto your back. “Shit, can you move?” You try to reply, but nothing but a gurgle comes out, your mouth filling with the bitter taste of blood. Another shot echoes across the landscape and Jake’s head rocks back, a neat hole punched through his forehead. He slumps to the ground next to you as you choke on your own blood, your vision fading to black.

  THE END

  Go back a few moments and rethink your actions

  “I say we send them both to hell.” You tell Jake.

  “You read my mind.” He grins, brandishing his pistol and peering over the remains of the wagon as bullets thud into the charred timber. You cautiously peek over too. You can see one figure lurking in the rocks clearly enough, though he is in cover. Glancing towards the long grass to the east, you can’t spot the other.

  “Where is he?” You murmur.

  “He’s keeping low.” Jake tells you. “Keep watchin’. He’s tryin’ to work around our flanks and pick us off. When he moves you can spot him.” Sure enough, a few moments later you see the grass quiver and the top of his hat is momentarily visible as it rises above the long, thick blades.

  “I see him.” You grin.

  “They’ve got the advantage.” Jake growls. “So we need to work together and take them out one at a time. Who first?”

  The bandit in the rocks

  The bandit in the grass

  “The son of a bitch in the rocks.” You tell Jake. “What’s the plan?”

  “He’s dug in pretty well behind those rocks.” He replies. “You keep him busy while I swing out wide and try to get the drop on him. Ready?” You nod your understanding. “Now!” You fire at the bandit, the bullet ricocheting off the rock he is using for cover. The outlaw ducks back down behind it. Jake keeps low as he emerges from the safety of the upended wagon and moves quickly across the ground, trying to flank the entrenched bandit. You fire off another couple of shots, keeping him cowering behind the rock. Jake is almost in position when you hear a click behind you. A split second later, a gunshot booms out while simultaneously a bullet tears through your back. You drop to the ground, rapidly bleeding out as you curse yourself for not dealing with the more mobile of the two bandits first.

  THE END

  Go back a few moments and rethink your actions

  “We’d better get the one in the grass before he gets the drop on us.” You tell Jake.

  “Quite the tactician, ain’t ya.” He smiles. “Okay, you keep an eye on our friend over there in the rocks while l shoot this snake in the grass.” You keep your pistol aimed at the bandit in the rocks while Jake patiently waits for the other to give away his position. He fires once and mutters darkly. Moments later, his pistol fires again followed by a stream of inventive curses. A third shot misses its target before you glance over your shoulder.

  “How do you make a living at this?” You groan.

  “Be my fuckin’ guest, lady.” Jake growls irritably.

  “Thank you, I will.” You glare at him as you swap places. With your pistol trained on the long grass to the east, you patiently wait from any sign of the hidden bandit. The blades of grass quiver and you see a flash of a black hat. Your finger tightens on the trigger and the gunshot echoes off the landscape. Droplets of blood spray across the tops of the long blades as your shot finds its mark.

  “Good shootin’!” Jake exclaims.

  “Sons of bitches!” You hear the other bandit yell, emerging from his cover behind the rock and running towards you, pistols blazing in each hand. Bullets whistle past you and yet somehow rather than panic, you turn, raise your revolver again and squeeze off another shot. The second bandit is snatched back as it finds its mark. Jake turns from the body of the bandit to look at you, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping in awe.

  “You’re some marksman!” He tells you. “Hell, you’re a regular Annie Oakley! You must have ice in your veins to pull off that shot with him blastin’ away like that!”

  “Just a lucky shot.” You shrug.

  “I don’t think so.” He replies quietly.

  As you continue on your way, you are surprised to find how clear your conscience is, having just killed two men. Perhaps, while they were not members of the Kane gang, since they shared the same low down occupation, it feels like a little justice has been done.

  “We’ll set up camp in a little while.” Jake tells you, breaking your introspection. “We’ve made good progress today. We’re just a few more hours ride from Lonely Peak. We’ll get there in good time.”

  As night falls, you sit opposite Jake across a small campfire he had built. The horses had been fed and watered and you both finish the last of your own food. Jake chews thoughtfully, the twigs cracking in the fire before him.

  “How’d you learn to shoot like that?” He asks.

  “My father taught me.” You shrug.

  “He did, huh.” He replies, furrowing his brow. “Unusual skill for a man to teach his daughter, particularly a farming man.”

  “Guess he figured I needed to know how to protect myself.” You tell him. “Lennox Creek isn’t far from Apache territory after all.”

  “True enough.” Jake replies, though you can tell from his tone he is less than convinced.

  “Come on, out with it.” You tell him impatiently.

  “Seems like your daddy knew that sooner or later, trouble would come lookin’ for him.” Jake tells you. “And I don’t reckon it was the Apaches he feared. He knew the Kane gang would come a-knockin’ someday.” You nod. While it could just be coincidence, Jake’s reasoning has a certain ring of truth to it.

  As night draws in, you curl up beneath your blanket. Out on the exposed prairie, the temperature drops rapidly and you find yourself wishing you’d bought a thicker blanket back in Lennox Creek. You cast an envious glance at Jake’s bedding, which though worn and frayed in places, seems far more substantial than your own. You huff with irritation and glare across at him: If he’d been a gentleman, he’d have offered you his bedding. You fold your arms tightly across your chest, hugging yourself and wondering how many hours it is until sunrise.

  “You look cold.” Jake tells you through the dying flames of the campfire. “Why don’t you come over here and we can keep each other warm?”

  Join him

  Spurn his not so subtle advances

  “I think I’d rather freeze than breathe in your foul stench all night.” You reply. Jake roars with laughter.

  “You’ve got spirit!” He chuckles.

  “And a brain.” You shoot back. “Must make a change from your usual type.”

  “Damn girl, you’re a pistol alright!” He laughs harder. “Maybe I misjudged you.”

  “Goodnight.” You tell him firmly, rolling onto your side with your back to him.

  “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He replies.

  An hour later, you still haven’t managed to drift off to sleep. You toss and turn, gazing at the dying embers of the campfire, the heat all but gone. Irritatingly, Jake was asleep in moments and you glower across at his slumbering form. Hearing a distant howl, you abruptly sit up, peering into the darkness towards the source of the sound.

&nb
sp; “What was that?” You hiss at Jake. No answer, his breathing low and even. You pick up a rock a hurl it across at him. He grunts in pain, pulling his blanket down.

  “Goddamn it! What in the hell…” He mutters darkly, rubbing his arm and sitting up.

  “What’s that howling?” You ask him. He listens for a moment.

  “Coyotes, most likely.” He shrugs.

  “Are they dangerous?” You ask him, pulling your blanket up around your neck.

  “They’ve been known to attack people out on their own.” He replies, lying back down and gathering his own blanket back around him.

  “Oh.” You murmur, suddenly feeling very isolated on your side of the faintly glowing campfire.

  “I’d be more worried about snakes.” He adds. “You never hear those bastards coming.” The shiver that runs through you has nothing to do with the cold.

  Join Jake

  Stay

  You roll over and wriggle as you try to get comfortable. While you try to ignore the distant howling, sleep remains elusive. Not so for Jake, who swiftly drifts back off to sleep.

  “Great. Just great.” You mutter under your breath as Jake’s snoring joins the cacophony of nighttime noises.

  An hour passes, perhaps two and you lie there, gazing up at the stars, longing for a roof over your head and a comfortable bed. You sigh. Perhaps you’re not cut out for a life outdoors after all. Rolling onto your side, you gather the blanket tightly around you, the hem sliding up past your ankle. Moments later, you feel a sharp pain in the sole of your foot. Gasping in pain and surprise, you reach down to your foot. Something scuttles against your fingers and you feel another sharp sting, this time against the back of your hand. Fear consuming you, you crawl away, screaming at Jake.

  “What now, goddamn it!” He growls, sitting up.