Hell for Leather

Alaine sat quietly as he pushed his horse to put as much distance between them and that entire scene as was possible. He was not talking and was certainly in no mood to hear her talk. She wondered if he might just leave for here. That was silly, she assured herself. He needed her. She was convinced that she had done the right thing. Those other women would be safe now because of her, even if it had incurred the wrath of the man who had saved her life twice now.

As night began its descent and Zeke’s horse seemed on the verge of collapse, he jerked the reins to a stop, dismounted and angrily yanked her out of the saddle, setting her none too gently on her feet.

“All right you,” he growled, “start talking.”

“Very well.” agreed Alaine, “What about?”

“Do not trifle with me girl. Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“I didn’t know I could trust you. It seemed prudent to hide my identity.”

“Well why keep it hidden when you knew I was looking for you?”

“I told you. I wanted to help those poor women.” Zeke’s anger relented slightly. He had to respect the fact that it was a noble cause.

“How did you come by such a convincing accent? And why use it?”

“Helen is a real person. She’s my attendant. We’ve always played at mimicking one another. She’s quite good. To be honest, I wasn’t really thinking about it. I was scared. I didn’t want to let on anything about myself that might make me appear any weaker or less able. I suppose I thought if you took me for an American you might think me more capable. Luckily, your ears are not attuned to a Boston accent, so you had nothing to compare it to.” Zeke wouldn’t admit it, but the girl was quite clever. He calmed down substantially upon realizing that he’d succeeded in finding her and would soon be free to return home.

“Well,” he finally said, “we’ll have to stop here for the night.”

“Very well. Shall I gather firewood?”

“Can’t.” answered Zeke, “Them fellas are liable to come looking for whoever shot at them. A fire will lead them straight to us. No fire. We wake at first light and press on. The sooner I get you back to Smythe the better.”

“George is here?” piped Alaine.

“He’s the one who sent me to find you.”

“Oh.” murmured Alaine, “I thought my husband Arthur might have sent you.”

“So you are married then?”

“Not every word out of my mouth has been a lie, Zeke.” Zeke had unrolled his blanket and was making himself comfortable. Alaine stood awkwardly. “If we don’t make a fire, how do we keep warm?” Zeke put his hat over his face.

“Use a blanket.” he grumbled.

“May I sleep with you?” she asked meekly.

“Nope.” Alaine stood in silence for a few moments thinking he might change his mind. When he made no effort to do so, she ventured further.

“But why not?” Zeke ignored her. “Why not?” She repeated her question with a tone that suggested both anger and sadness.

“I heard you the first time.” was all he said.

“Well?” she was getting impatient, but then again, so was he. Zeke took his hat off his face and turned to look at her.

“Ain’t you married?” he asked her directly, causing her to avert her eyes for a second before returning the volley.

“Yes.” she conceded, “Just as I was last night when we slept beside each other.” This time, it was Zeke who was forced to look away.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly.” he answered after a moment, “You think your husband would like you sleeping under blankets with another man?”

“But it’s cold.” Alaine finally said. Zeke put his hat back over his face.

“You’ll live.” he said icily. Alaine felt like crying, but steeled herself instead and began preparing her own bed. He had a point, she knew, but the truth is not as simple as all that. Yes, she was married, but she was not in love with the man her father had chosen as her husband. He was a good enough man, she thought to herself as she pulled the blanket tighter around her, but he always seemed more interested in money and business than her. She tried to be a good wife, but nothing she did caught his eye. When he sent word for her to join him in San Francisco, she was at once thrilled and confused. It was a very uncharacteristic request. Perhaps, she told herself, he was ready to have children. She drifted off to sleep that night picturing what those children might look like.

Far away in the darkness, thunder growled.

In the morning when they woke, the sky was overcast and clouds as black as cancer gathered on the western horizon. Zeke stood still for some time, silently watching them.

“There’s always a chance the storm might miss us.” offered Alaine.

“Yeah.” replied Zeke before turning his attention to packing camp. Alaine dutifully followed suit.

They were headed east, away from the storm, but Zeke was not kicking his horse into a gallop. He wanted to save its strength. The storm clouds also seemed to be in no hurry and Alaine spent most of the morning silently wishing them away. It was silly, she knew, but she hoped that if those clouds disappeared, then Zeke would speak to her again as though they were the very clouds that darkened his face when he looked at her.

“Zeke?” she said after hours of unbearable silence.

“What?” his voice was as cold as the storm front.

“I hope you will forgive me for lying to you.”

“Mm.” she didn’t know exactly what that response was intended to convey, so she went on.

“I didn’t mean any ill will and while I did deceive you, I did so with an eye to the greater good.” She waited for a response.

“Yep.” was all she got.

“I hope we can be friends.” she finally said.

“I don’t need friends.”

“Oh, On the contrary.” she said, her refined British accent tickled his ears despite himself, “You can always do with friends. Especially out here.” She wanted him to smile and welcome her back into his good graces with some charming American phrase she had never heard before, but Zeke said nothing. Alaine was getting irritated. He had no right to treat her this way. Her transgression was rather mild, given the circumstances. He couldn’t be that angry over a little lie, could he? “Zeke,” she continued, “you really should learn to…”

“Hush.” he snapped, pulling his horse to a stop. Zeke turned his ear back west and listened. Alaine could hear nothing.

“What is it?” she whispered, but Zeke did not answer. After several moments, she began to detect the sound of very distant thunder. “Sounds like the storm is getting closer.” she said, hoping to impress Zeke.

“That ain’t thunder.” Zeke answered grimly before tightening his grip on the reins and kicking his mount into an all-out sprint. The jolt of sudden speed took Alaine by surprise and she held on for dear life as his horse bore them swiftly away from whatever was behind them.

Alaine’s fear mounted with every minute that Zeke ran his horse across the landscape without saying a word. He ran as if the devil himself were behind them. She knew better than to ask what was happening. She would just have to trust Zeke to handle it, whatever it was.

After what felt to her like hours but which was probably only a few dozen minutes, Zeke pulled the reins abruptly, steering them to their left. This seemed a great bit of foolishness to Alaine, as there was nothing there to hide them. Indeed, the land was bare but for a few small bushes no higher than her waist.

They tore through the field before stopping suddenly near one of those bushes. Zeke jumped down and quickly removed his rifle from its scabbard.

“Get down.” he barked to Alaine as he readied his weapon. Alaine merely scanned their back trail.

“Why?” she wanted to know. Zeke was having none of it. He grabbed her arm in a death grip.

“Get down.” he growled, jerking her out of the saddle. Alaine stood quietly in shock. “Hold this.” He said, thrusting his rifle into her hands. She took it as though under the spell of a hypnotist. Alaine watched as Zeke took his horse’s bridle in both hands. Slowly, he maneuvered him in a tight circle spiraled down to the ground. Where the horse’s head went, his body followed and in an instant, the horse was lying on its side with Zeke placing his body across the beast’s neck. Alaine was still standing like a statue. Zeke reached up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to the ground as well. He wrenched the rifle from her grasp and trained it in the direction they had just come. Without looking at her, he warned her.

“Don’t move and don’t make a sound.” Terrified, Alaine did as she was told and was scarcely able to breathe. At first, there was nothing, then her ears began to detect the faint sound of rolling thunder. Gradually, the rumbling grew louder and she realized it was the sound of horses galloping at full speed. She looked at Zeke. His sights were tracking them as they blazed past following the trail she and Zeke had been riding, but only his eyes moved. Everything else was stillness.

It was over in just a few minutes. The riders were gone and the sound of their thundering horses began to fade. Even so, Zeke did not move for some time. Eventually, he stood and as soon as his weight was off his horse’s neck, the horse rose and seemed none the worse for wear.

“Were those the men from the camp?” asked Alaine as Zeke hurriedly stashed his rifle.

“I imagine so.”

“You think they’re looking for us?” Zeke helped her onto the horse.

“I don’t want to find out.” he said, settling in behind her. He pulled the reins to the North and urged his horse on.

“What do we do now?”

“We’ll cut north, hopefully stay out of their way and get back to town as quick we can.”

“What happens if they find us?”

“Well,” said Zeke, “that’s when the shooting is liable to start.” Alaine fought back against the urge to cry, not for her own safety, but for Zeke’s. She didn’t regret saving the other women, but she was aggrieved for having placed Zeke in danger, even if he did seem well able to handle it.

When they had ridden a fair piece at a fast gallop, Zeke slowed his horse down to save its strength. Alaine had kept quiet as her guilt gnawed at her conscious. Now she wanted to talk, if for no other reason than to drown out the accusing voices in her own head.

“How were you able to wrestle your horse to the ground?”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?”

“Well,” she continued, glad that he wasn’t simply ignoring her, “back there, you just seemed to overpower him.”

“It ain’t about power. It’s about control.”

“Aren’t they the same?”

“Nope. The horse has the power. The rider has control. You just have to know how to use it. Your will has to be stronger than the horse’s.”

“I think there’s more to it. I, for example wouldn’t be able to do it.”

“Yeah you could. If you wanted to. If your will was strong enough.” Alaine smiled. Not only was he talking to her again, but now a compliment of sorts. She looked back at the storm clouds and couldn’t say for certain, but they seemed to have stopped. She turned her gaze back to the trail. Maybe things were getting better, she told herself.

When night began to fall, so did the temperature. Alaine dreaded the thought of another night on the cold, unyielding ground, but she didn’t really expect Zeke to be anything other than cold and unyielding himself. Just because he was talking again didn’t mean he would now embrace her and keep her warm. She was surprised by how much she found herself wishing he would do just that. Complaining, she realized, would accomplish nothing, so she resolved to keep quiet.