Hold my big strong father in my arms and let him cry.
" Cole's voice was low with feeling." There's no shame in a man crying.
The shame would be in not being able to get on with his life after the tears are shed.
For the first time, Thad felt free to release all the fears that had been building over the miles.
He fell into Cole's arms and sobbed as though his heart would break.
When at last the tears had run their course, he lifted his head.
His pale lashes glistened.
"I don't want to be a baby," he sniffed, accepting Cole's handkerchief.
"You're no baby."
Cole watched the boy struggle with the last of his tears.
"You're a fine son to your father. And you're going to be a fine man someday. One your pa will be of."
"You think so?"
Thad wiped his face with the hand, unaware that he still held the gun in his other hand.
"I know it. No matter what we find at the end of the trail, I have no doubt that you'll be able to pick yourself up and make something of your life."
Gently Cole took the gun from Thad's hands.
"Tomorrow night, if we don't have any unwanted visitors out there, I'll let you fire my pistol. I think you're ready for that responsibility."' He caught Thad by the shoulders and firmly turned him in the direction of the bedrolls." Now you'd better get some sleep.
We have a long day in the saddle tomorrow.
Thad nodded and started away, then turned and extended his hand.
"Thanks, Cole."
Cole studied the small pudgy hand for a long moment before he enclosed it in his big palm.
"You're welcome, Half-pint."
With a light heart the boy crawled into his bedroll and fell into an exhausted sleep.
His back to a rock, Cole tested the weight of his gun.
Deep in thought, he closed his hand around the metal and tried to remember a time when he hadn't carried a gun.
Too long ago, he thought.
A lifetime ago.
He returned the gun to his holster.
As the embers of the fire burned low, he rolled a cigarette and thought about Jessie and her brothers.
He no longer wondered whether they were fools or heroes.
He knew only that he was in for the long haul.
e'd see them to Abilene or die trying.
By the second day the Indians grew bolder, sometimes even standing quietly in the path of their approach, staring intently at the little party.
At the last minute the Indians would nudge their ponies, stepping aside until the four had passed.
At times Jessie counted more than two dozen warriors keeping pace with them, watching, waiting.
More Indians, the women and children of the various tribes, kept watch from the protection of rocks and trees.
The Indians said nothing.
And at Cole's instruction, their party neither spoke nor acknowledged the Indians in any way.
They rode single file with Jessie in the lead and Cole at flank.
Each day as their little party set out, they felt the strain of not knowing what the Indians had in store for them.
They were forced to realize that at any time the Indians chose, they could be eliminated with no effort.
"Why can't we speak to them?"
Danny demanded as they set up camp for yet another night.
"It's up to them to make the first move."
Cole sipped strong coffee and rubbed at the knot of tension at the back of his neck.
"But maybe if they see that we're friendly, they'll leave us alone."
"I have a feeling they know everything about us."
Cole tried not to watch as Jessie bent over the fire.
He wanted her.
Desperately.
But these nights he couldn't afford to let down his guard for even an hour.
"Then why don't they speak?"
"They don't need to. To them, we're unworthy to be addressed."
"How much farther," Thad asked.
"A couple of days."
Cole stood and strapped on his holster.
"I'll take the first watch. The rest of you get some rest."
He touched a hand to Jessie's hair as he passed her.
Damn, he missed holding her.
As he walked away, she drew her arms about herself, trying to maintain the warmth of his touch.
She needed his strength, needed the healing power of his touch.
But she had no right to lean on him.
She had always prided herself on her strength.
The day would come, she warned herself, when Cole Matthews would ride out of her life.
When that day came, she would have to be strong enough to go on without him.
Without him.
The thought was as bleak as the landscape.
The days had become an endless vista of sand and rock and barren hillsides.
The Indians continued to watch as the party of four horsemen made its way north.
At times the Indian warriors were close enough to touch.
At other times they stayed in the hills, stretched in a line as far as the eye could see.
Yet not one of them lifted a hand in .
greeting.
Nor did any lift a hand to halt their progress.
Jessie pulled the cowhide jacket around her to ward off the wind that had grown colder.
She was grateful for the buckskins that Cole had given her brothers.
Very soon the glorious autumn weather would be chilled by winter.
She tried to still the sense of urgency that often rocked her these days.
They had come so far, but they could not go home without Pa.
Abilene.
The word sang in her mind.
If Pa was anywhere in Abilene, they would find him.
"Jessie."
She was jolted out of her reverie by Cole's low hiss.
Swinging in the saddle, she saw a bronzed, muscled warrior slowly approaching, followed by over a dozen braves.
"There's no sense going for your guns," Cole commanded, seeing Danny's hand tighten around the rifle butt.
"From the looks of it, this chief has come to talk."
' 'Woman-With-Hair-Like-The-Sun.
' ' At the familiar greeting, Jessie could only stare in surprise.
"I am Runs-Like-Antelope, cousin to Two Moons."
At the mention of his name, Cole's hands tightened at the reins.
This was the Comanche who had been chased clear across Texas for the massacre of a dozen settlers near Deer Creek.
He had a reputation as a ruthless killer of whites.
Cole counted the number of warriors and decided he would only further risk their lives if he went for his weapon.
From the time they'd entered Indian Territory, they had been aware of the risks.
Now their only hope was to hear what this Comanche had to say.
"Two Moons has commimded safe passage for you and these white men," the chief said.
"The Comanche honor the word of their chief."
"Thank you."
Before Jessie could say another word, the proud chief turned his mount and galloped away.
His warriors followed closely behind, leaving the four in a cloud of dust.
"You mean that's all?"
Jessie turned to Cole.
He shrugged.
"They are a people of few words. He said what he needed to say."
"Why didn't they tell us this When we entered their territory?"' Danny's face was a puzzled frown." I sure would have slept better knowing they were going to honor Two Moons' promise.
"So would I," Cole said softly.
"Come on."
"What's the hurry?"
Danny called.
"Nothing against your sister's Comanche friends," Cole said, taking the lead, "but I'd rather not push them to the limits of their patience."
They urged their mounts into an easy canter and watched with a mixture of surprise and disappointment as the Indians who had been dogging their trail for days disappeared for good.
The following morning they learned why.
As they came up over a ridge, Cole let out a string of savage oaths.
The others reined in their mounts and caught their breath.
On the branch of a cottonwood, the wind blew a bulky object in slow torturous circles.
As they drew closer they realized what the object was.
A man.
A very dead man dangling from the end of a rope.
Chapter Twenty
“Welcome to Kansas ." Cole's lips were compressed into a thin tight line as he urged his horse past the gruesome sight.
"Aren't we going to bury him?"
Jessie couldn't tear her gaze from the man's purplish face, the swollen tongue lolling to one side of his mouth.
Overhead buzzards circled lazily, waiting for the strangers to leave.
Flies buzzed.
The stench of rotting flesh was almost overpowering.
"Cole, we can't leave him like this."
Cole shot Jessie a cold look.
"Someone from the town will take care of it. They'll need the space for another hanging."
"You mean this happens often?"
"In Caldwell this is almost a daily occurrence."
While he spoke, he deliberately led them away from the grizzly scene in the direction of the town.
If he'd known what they would find, he would have found a way to bypass this place and spare them this.
"Caldwell calls itself the Border Queen, since it's the first town along the Chisholm Trail north of Indian Territory. This is the place where the drovers can let down their hair and do all the things they only dreamed about for the last hundred miles. And for some, horse thieves, drunken murderers, this is the end of the line."
"Is it as bad as Fort Worth?"
Danny asked.
"Caldwell makes Fort worth look like a Sunday school. The saloon owners here boast that a marshal's term in office usually lasts about two weeks."
"Are we staying here, Cole?"
Danny studied the town up ahead.
It was nothing more than a dusty street lined with drab wooden buildings.
Though it was now drowsing in the midmorning sun, he tried to picture it by night with painted women beckoning from doorways and drunken cowboys accepting their invitations.
The scene in his mind wasn't a pleasant one.
Especially in light of what they had just witnessed.
"We're only staying as long as it takes us to lay in fresh supplies."
Cole studied the position of the sun and gave them a lazy smile.
"I figure we ought to be back on the trail by noon. ' ' He thought he noticed all three let out a sigh of relief at his words.
"How much farther to Abilene?"
Cole met Jessie's steady look.
"Seven or eight days. Six if we ride hard."
"We can ride as hard as it takes," she muttered.
"Six days. Let's get those supplies and get started."
Cole cast one last backward glance at the hanging tree and followed them through the town to the general store.
He'd breathe a lot easier when he had them safely out of this place.
Cole felt e curious stares of the store owner and the drovers who milled about.
It was unusual to see a woman and little boy along the trail.
And even more unusual to see a woman dressed like a drover, in sheepskin jacket and faded britches.
When they entered the store, Jessie took the hat from her head and shook the dust from it, unaware that the sight of .
: golden tangles spilling about her face was enough to take some men's breath away.
She was stunning.
Even in dirty trail clothes, she was the kind of woman a man dreamed about on long lonely nights.
While he lounged in the doorway, Cole studied each man in the store.
And while he pretended to be looking over the supplies, Cole was really watching to see that Jessie was not accosted by bold drovers who had spent a little too much time away from their homes.
In less than an hour the supplies were loaded in their saddlebags, and the four slowly made their way along the road leading out of Caldwell.
All four felt as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders when they were once more on the trail to Abilene.
Abilene.
Jessie went to sleep with the word on her tips.
She awoke with but one thought.
Abilene.
The end of the trail.
The answer to all her questions.
There was a renewed sense of urgency to her journey.
She rode all day without thought to her protesting muscles and woke from sleep ready to hit the trail again.
Within days they passed through Wichita and Newton, spending only enough time in each town to ask about Big Jack Conway.
Even the lack of response no longer frightened or angered Jessie.
It was as she expected.
There had been too many drovers and too many herds.
One man, even one as fine as Pa, wouldn't have made an impression on these people.
But in Abilene, she promised herself, everything would be different.
Someone in Abilene would know where he was.
And their family would be whole again.
Abilene!
Jessie had feared that it would not live up to her expectations.
But seeing the town only made it seem larger than LIFE.
Abilene was certainly different from anything they'd seen so far.
The town already had five hundred permanent residents, ten saloons, five general stores, twohotels and two so-called hotels where the patrons didn't necessarily stay the night.
It also had two distinct personalities.
North of the Kansas Pacific tracks was Kansas Abilene; south of the tracks was Texas Abilene, which housed the cattle pens, saloons, houses of pleasure and the hundreds of rowdy cowboys shaking the dust of the trail from their boots.
The main thoroughfare in Texas Abilene was Texas Street.
It was choked with so many horses and wagons that it was impossible to move.
"Seems awfully busy for this time of year," Cole said, glancing around at the throngs of cowboys who clogged every inch of space along the walkways.
"Must be a big herd in today."
Keeping their mounts firmly in check, the four inched their way along the dusty road until they came to the Merchants Hotel.
Leaving the horses with Thad and Danny, Cole led Jessie inside.
When they stepped inside the hotel lobby, they were amazed to find dozens of cowboys milling about.
They stopped at the registration desk.
Jessie arched an eyebrow toward a sign that read, All Firearms Are Expected to Be Deposited with the Proprietor.
She glanced meaningfully at Cole.
"Are you going to turn in your pistol?"
"Why not?" he asked, glancing at the room filled with unarmed men.
"If it's the law, I have no choice but obey it. Besides," he said, motioning to the clerk walking toward them, "he looks like he means business."
The clerk was tall, heavily muscled and wearing a six-shooter on each hip.
Not even a drunken cowboy would be foolish enough to give him trouble.
"We'd like two rooms," Cole said, slapping his money on the counter.
"We don't have a single room left."
"No rooms? Must be some herd."
Cole's glance encompassed the crowded room.
"No herd," the clerk said.
"Everybody for miles around is in for the hanging."
"Hanging."
"Isn't that what you folks are here for?"
"I'm afraid not."
Cole returned the money to his pocket an
d picked up his hat as if to leave.
"Can you tell us where to look for a room?"
Jessie asked.
The clerk shook his head.
"Even the private houses are taking in roomers for the night. This hanging is the biggest event of the year. It's not too often we get to see a cattle rustler hanged."
Jessie fought back a sense of despair.
To have come so far and be denied a place to sleep.
"You mean there's not a single room available in all of Abilene?"
"I don't think so, miss. Looks like you might have to spend the night at the stables. That is, if they aren't already filled, tOO."
"The stables. Thanks," Cole said, turning toward the door.
He dropped a hand beneath Jessie's elbow and headed toward the entrance.
As an afterthought, he asked, "By the way, who's getting hanged?"
"Fellow named Conway," the clerk said.
Jessie froze in her tracks.
Very slowly Cole turned.
"Big Jack Conway."
"Yeah. That's the one. You've heard of him, I see. Hanging's tomorrow morning."
Cole took Jessie's hand and forcibly led her from the hotel, She stared straight ahead, completely oblivious to the shouts and laughter of the cowboys combing the streets for excite-mem.
She didn't even notice the crowds pushing and shoving their way along the bustling walkways.
But when she saw little Thad holding the reins of his horse, she knew that she couldn't fall apart.
For Thad's sake, for Danny's sake, she would go to the marshal's office and right this terrible wrong.
"What's wrong with Jessie?"
Thad asked.
"Your sister's had some bad news."
"About Pa?"
Jessie knelt in the dirt and stared deeply into her little brother's eyes.
"There's been some terrible mistake. I'm going to have to clear it up."
"Mistake?"
"The marshal's holding a man for rustling. They think it's Pa.
We're going to have to get over there and see who this imposter is."
"Let's go then."
As she started to stand, Thad said softly, ' 'Jessie?
"Yes, Tadpole?"
"What if it is Pa?"
She pressed her forehead against his.
"It can't be. We know Pa wouldn't steal cattle."
"Yeah."