CHAPTER 13
The two men spurred their horses into motion with Chet’s extra horse in tow. Up the wash they traveled in silence with Chet giving Matthew a discerning glance from time to time while Matthew concentrated on keeping his body more erect in the saddle, thus relieving himself from the pain he had been experiencing during his earlier ride. Occasionally he would slump back into his old position resulting in a sharp pain, which in turn reminded him to concentrate on his riding posture. The sores were now a more effective riding instructor than Chet.
Eventually Chet queried Matthew about his comfort. “I’m feeling a lot better as long as I stay sitting up straight.”
“Now then, ain’t that just what I been tellin’ you to do, ‘keep sittin’ up straight’?”
“I know what you’ve been telling me, I just never quite understood it all. But it all seems to coming together now.”
“Sometimes a little pain can do the best kind of teachin’ for a feller,” said Chet in his even tone.
“All the same, thanks for your help. I really don’t think I could have stayed at it for another minute if it weren’t for your cactus stuff.”
“No need for any thanks to be headin’ my way. Any odd fool out here could of done it for you.”
Matthew inwardly winced at the inference that fools were smarter than him, but he let it pass thinking that it was probably true. “All the same, thanks.”
“If you ever find yourself lost out here again,” offered Chet, “you can eat that plant also. Everythin’ about it is okay for eatin’, except the prickles. Not much in the way of flavor in the leaves, but it’ll keep you alive.”
Matthew guessed that the trail must have grown more difficult to follow, for Chet had slowed his pace quite a bit and was taking the time to keep an evaluating eye on the edges of the trail. Even Matthew’s untrained eye could see that there were many more tracks on the ground than the three riders would have left. This track was apparently a commonly used trail.
“How do you know which tracks to follow?” inquired Matthew.
“This trail that we is followin’” Chet spoke in an even voice, ignoring the question for the moment, “sure is wisely placed. Notice that these here tracks is followin’ the actual path of the water run off. Every time there comes some odd sort of rain, it’ll run right on through this here wash and clean away marks that tell of someone’s passin’. True that there’d be some pretty good stretches of time when the marks are left here, but all the same, eventually it’ll all look like there ain’t nobody ever been this way before.
“And there is plenty of places here where someone could step his horse up onto some of these flat rocks and walk right over to the banks of this here wash, and leave nothin’ in the way of a sign that they just done left the trail.”
“Is that what you think they did? Do you think we lost their trail?” Matthew’s voice had betrayed a certain amount of anxiety at the prospect of losing the trail.
“No, I don’t think that way at all. You see those horse marks down here.” Chet asked this after coming to a stop and pointing to the ground between the two of them. But Matthew was unsure of what to see- there were a number of tracks in the pebbled wash and they all seemed to blend together in his eyes.
After admitting to his inability to see which mark Chet was referring to, Chet explained a bit more, “The one’s that’s sittin’ deeper in the ground than the others.”
Matthew’s eyes found what Chet was pointing to. “Yes, I think I see it now. I see a number of them, I think.”
“Well that’d be tellin’ me that that particular horse is carryin’ a bigger weight than the other horses that come this way. Old Jack is a big man, as I heard from others, and he’s carrying your wife, to boot. All that weight goes for makin’ a horse’s feet heavy when they is marking up the ground. It’s been that way ever since we started to follow these tracks. Yes sir, we are on the right track still.”
Having seen what Chet was explaining Matthew understood more fully just how much of a Godsend his guide was. There was no way that his own eyes could have picked out the subtle difference of such things as this. And the trick of finding the tracks again even after the thieves had taken to covering their tracks by traveling in the stream had proven to be ingenious. Furthermore, though he had been completely humiliated to have developed the saddle sores, Chet’s doctoring had proven to be very effective. Then there were the riding instructions that had also made all the difference in the world for him.
Gratefulness welled in Matthew’s chest as this string of thoughts rolled through his mind. Inwardly he prayed a deeply felt prayer of thanks to God for His providence in bringing this man to his aide. He closed his eyes and without moving his lips, Matthew implored the Lord, Help him, Lord to find Alice. Keep her safe. And keep Chet safe.
Noticing the closed eyes of Matthew, “Are you doin’ all right, Son?” asked Chet.
“I’m fine, Chet,” responded Matthew as he opened his eyes. “You just caught me praying.”
“Well, I s’pose prayin’ can’t hurt none.”
Matthew smiled, “No, it won’t.”
“What were you prayin’?”
Looking Chet squarely in the eye Matthew said, “I was prayin’ for you.”
A certain amount of surprise registered in Chet’s eyes. He had suspected that the prayer would have been for Matthew’s wife, but himself? He didn’t know if anyone, besides his mother, had ever prayed for him. He wasn’t sure if he liked this unsolicited prayer for him.
“I was thanking God for you, Chet,” Continued Matthew. “I would be so lost without you, and I know that God has brought you to help me get Alice back. I also was asking God to protect you. I’m sure that chasing these men is not the safest way to spend one’s time.”
Chet didn’t know how to respond to this conversation. So he looked around at the trail and up the wash that they had been traveling. “I’m sure I should be thanin’ you and all for what you been sayin’ to God.” But Chet never did get to saying his thanks, instead, after a moments pause, he said, “We ought to be goin’ if we want to find your Alice before sunfall.” He kicked his horse into motion and led out.
When he was in the lead with his back to Matthew, Chet gave the slightest shake of his head. He was thinking of this preacher and what the day had offered him- the wound on Matthew head, the ulcers on his butt, the loss of his wife, his remarkable helpless… if Matthew was any example of how God protected someone, then he’d stick to his wits and his guns.
Just as this last thought had stepped into his mind, a rabbit that had been hiding under a small scrub brush suddenly bolted from its place in a panic driven flight from the approach of the horses. Chet’s horse reflexively sidestepped, nearly unseating Chet from the saddle. In the same instance he felt the unmistakable swish of wind as a bullet raced past his head and the sound of a rifle’s report reaching his ears in the very next instant.
Without thinking, he wheeled his horse around and kicked his horse into action, yelling to Matthew to move it. Another bullet shot passed him as he desperately tried to make himself and Matthew as hard of a target as he could by moving fast. Matthew’s horse in the meantime had responded to Chet’s horse and was following just as fast, while Matthew bent low against the horse’s neck, and held onto the saddle horn with all his might. They were racing to the side bank of the wash where Chet saw places of concealment if only they could reach it in time. More bullets flew past them, narrowly missing the racing men and horses.
It hadn’t taken but a short moment for the men to reach the safety of the rocks, but Matthew had felt like a lifetime had passed in that desperate flight.
Both men were out of their saddles and huddled with their backs against a rock. The report of the rifle had come to a stop and only the heavy breathing of the three horses could be heard.
“If that crazy rabbit didn’t scare my horse, I’d a been feedin’ the worms right now,” said Chet in a low breathless voice. “I think we been noticed by your friends.”
“Do you know where they are?” asked Matthew.
“I got a sight of gun smoke just up the ways a bit while we was runnin’.”
Chet took the hat off his head and scooted to the side of the rock and peered around the edge of it searching for their adversary. A bullet ricocheted off the rock, as Chet quickly pulled himself back to safety.
“I seen one of ‘em. Same spot I seen him before,” said Chet. “He ain’t but a hundred yards up that a way.”
Looking around at their surroundings, Chet could see that they were in small tributary of the wash. A small ravine that headed off to their right. It wasn’t a deep cut in the hillside, but it offered enough cover for both horse and man. He could also see that just a short ways into it that the floor of this tributary would offer difficult ground for a horse to travel, so he knew that he’d have to leave the horses if they wanted to escape.
But escape wasn’t what he wanted at this point. He wanted a better position for returning a fight. Sitting here behind this rock they were pinned down and had a poor line of sight for returning fire. He knew that they had to get to higher ground and around to the side of their attackers.
“We got to go up this ravine here, and see if we can be gettin’ to better shootin’ position.” After a moments thought, Chet continued, “I can’t leave you here. You’d be a sittin’ duck if they come down this way to get at us. So you got to come too. But keep yourself down and be ready to do just as I tell you.” As an afterthought, Chet gave one more line of instruction, “And whatever you do, keep that gun of yours in the holster till you see me dead and gone. Okay?”
Without protest, Matthew nodded his head in agreement, and the two men moved into the ravine on swift feet.
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