Mankillers

“Wrong goddam time of the month,” Rufus griped.

Mundo snickered. “What’re we go

“So’s we can be on the road ahead of ‘em. Ain’t that what I just said? Then we wait for ‘em to come to us.”

Clem cut a piece of mold off the fatback and sliced the rest into small strips which he put on the iron skillet he carried in his bedroll. The pork was starting to crisp when he knocked the handle and tilted everything into the fire. The grease blazed up, backing everybody away.

“Damn your eyes, Clem.” The redheaded man exploded. “Can’t you do anything right? Now we’re down to dry biscuits, molasses and whiskey. One of you jackasses spill the whiskey and I swear I’ll kill him. Got that?”

The men around him nodded.

They were all snoring when the rain started three hours later. A patter, patter on rocks and leaves at first. Rufus woke in time to realize what was coming. He roused the others. None of them was enthusiastic about being awakened.

“Get up or drown, you dumb sons of bitches. Get up.”

Bodies were stirring, sort of, when, a few minutes later the fire went out and they heard a roar. A wall of water three feet high knocked them sprawling. They were awake now and sputtering. In the darkness they could hear the terrified horses whi

the swirling waters.

Two hours later, Rufus took inventory of his gang. Nobody knew what had happened to Neezy Collins. The teenager and his horse were missing. Some of the others had lost their bedrolls. Clem had lost his saddle.

“You still got that ointment, Zeke?” Rufus asked.

“Safe and dry, better off than me.”

Rufus gazed up at the sky. The clouds had moved off, which he could clearly see because the sun was fully up now. He’d lost the initiative he’d sought.

“What now, boss?”

Chapter SEVENTEEN

“What now, boss?” Jake asked after the others had gathered around.

Rufus was seething. Things had gone bad before, but this gang of his brother’s was more worthless than his old man’s word. He took in the pathetic bunch of soggy, half-drowned drunks. They’d lost two horses but managed to save the whiskey jug, damn them. Two men were missing as well, so the score was even.

“First we dry off. No use trying to go after the coach today. It’s hours ahead of us now.”

He’d had the perfect plan last night. Ride head of Doc Thomson and have him come to him. He hadn’t counted on the damn storm. How could he? Nobody could predict the weather—‘cept his old gra

“We get something to eat, then we ride as hard as we can, but stay behind the coach till it stops for the night at Goose Creek. Then we ride on ahead of it, so’s we can be ready by sun-up when Doc Thomson goes out to do his re-con-noit-ering.”

“His what?” Clem asked.

“Don’t worry about it. Tomorrow we hit ‘em for sure. And remember, you can do whatever you want with any of them—”

“Like the women?” Clem asked enthusiastically.

Rufus shook his head. “But the doc is mine.”

#

The two men sat down facing each other at the trestle table in the main room of the Holly Hill I

The i

“Where’s the bacon?”

“Ran out about two years ago,” the i

“And maple syrup?”

“Two years ago.”

“Got anything to give these flapjacks some taste?”

“A little sorghum molasses, but it’ll cost you.”

Tracker frowned. “If it’s more than a Yankee dollar, I don’t want it.”

“Mister, you got a Yankee dollar, I’ll give you a pat a butter to go with it.”

Tracker shook his head. “I hate war shortages.”

“I guess that means he accepts your kind offer,” Buck told the proprietor.

“I’m a man of appetites, doc,” Tracker commented after their waiter had stepped away, “and I do my best to satisfy all of them, as opportunity presents itself.”

The waiter brought him what amounted to no more than dollops of molasses and butter. Tracker smeared them on with a frown.

“We’re not dealing here with a West Point strategist like General Lee,” he commented to Buck. “If Snead doesn’t have his men deployed in the trees like last time, it seems to me the alternative is a frontal assault. Think they could be ahead of us?”

Buck waved to a serving girl for some coffee. “I don’t know and it worries me. Would’ve been a challenge for them getting there, considering the rain last night, but they may be more familiar with the countryside than we are and know of a way around this place.”

“Not by road,” Tracker said. “There isn’t any bypass, I checked with our kindly i

“You’re assuming they’d go by road.”

Tracker forked up a generous portion of nearly dry pancakes, and made a face when he tasted it.

“If they’re going to attack—” Buck accepted a metal cup of steaming coffee from the girl “—they’ll have to come at us from the rear.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Nothing very elaborate or subtle. I’ll follow y’all. I wish we had someone to ride point though . . .”

“I’ll tell Freddie to watch out ahead,” Tracker said, scooping up a forkful of grits, “instead of facing backward like he’s been doing.”

Buck paused a minute, then quietly posed a question. “How’s she holding up?”

“You mean Janey?” At Buck’s arched expression Tracker chuckled. “Mrs. Drexel’s all right, in fact, my friend, I’d say she’s a remarkably strong woman. Her neck pains her some, but she doesn’t complain. And that girl Janey’s been a real help. They read to each other. Your lady friend even laughs, especially when Janey beats her at Whist. If Mrs. Drexel makes it through this journey unscathed, she’ll be fine.”

A minute later, the subject of their discussion came into the room, Janey following behind her.

“It just occurred to me,” Buck said quietly to Tracker, “I’ve never seen her in anything but black.”

“Patience, my friend, the time will come. She’s obviously interested in you.”

Buck shifted his gaze to avoid eye contact with the man sitting across from him, rose and greeted the widow as she entered the long room. “Almost home,” he told her when she reached the table.

She sighed. “It can’t be soon enough.”

“Dr. Thomson, will we be getting to Charleston tonight?” Janey asked.

“Not tonight. We’ll stay over at Goose Creek, then ride into Charleston tomorrow, probably around noon.”

“I ain’t never . . . I have never been to Charleston.” The girl was obviously looking forward to the adventure. “Can I see the ocean from there?”

“Not from my house,” Sarah told her. “We’re on the bay side. Don’t worry. While you’re with me we’ll drive to the beach and you can behold the Great Atlantic.”