Wildcat Kitty and the Cyclone Kid Read online

The dark clouds were hanging low when Peso Martin and Harvey Trask rode hell bent for leather into the ranch yard. Sarah Price’s heart leaped with excitement as she watched the big man ride in. She dashed from her window, out of the bedroom, ran down the stairs and out the front door; leaving it wide open. The gathering cold air rushed in.

  “What in the world is all the excitement,” Eunice Price thought to herself as the sudden coolness aroused her from her semi stupor. An uncorked half empty bottle stood on the table next to her chair.

  She arose unsteadily on her feet and half staggered to the door. She knew enough to close it and shut out the rushing wind, but she was oblivious to the excitement outside.

  “What’s going on, Peso?” Sarah asked as she ran toward him. He was still mounted and his horse was still stomping about, kicking up dust. Peso was shouting and men were running toward the corral with saddles.

  “Out of the way, girl,” Peso shouted as Sarah came too close and was almost brushed back by the lurching horse. “You’ll get hurt out here. Get back in the house.”

  Sarah fell back a couple of steps, “What’s happening?” She shouted again.

  Peso ignored her. He was busy shouting orders to the men. She tried to move closer again.

  Peso whirled his horse around and almost hit her again. “You stupid fool,” he shouted.” I told you to get away from me.” He whirled his horse again and rode to the other side of the ranch yard waving to his men as they mounted saddled horses and raced after him.

  Sarah stood there for several moments, stunned at the way Peso had treated her. She watched the riders disappear into the distance and the gathering darkness. The clatter of galloping hooves drifted into silence. Lightning flashed in the dark sky and thunder clapped in a menacing roar

  Lightning flashed and thunder roared. The heavens opened up and the dark clouds released torrential rain. The trail was hardly visible in the darkness and with the pelting streams of rain beating into the eyes of the riders, it was a constant struggle to move the horses forward on the narrow winding path that skirted the side of the hill. The trail was slippery with mud and the horses’ shoes failed to find solid footing.

  The rain had only been pouring for ten minutes, but already the trail was slick and the riders were soaked before they had managed to break out their slickers for protection. Matt Starr and Jim Butler had no slickers, but had shrugged themselves into dusters supplied by Cyclone and Arapahoe. This helped a little, but was far from satisfactory.

  Jeremy had taken the lead, since his eyes were better than the older members of the gang. Kitty followed second. Matt hugged tight behind her, burying his face into the back of her neck and letting the brim of his hat fend off the raging rivulets. Chief Henry and Cyclone followed with Arapahoe bringing up the rear.

  The rush of streaming water and continual thundering roared in their ears. No one tried to talk, for the noise was too loud. They would have to shout to be heard if at all possible. They just plodded on; heads down, trying to keep the rain from their eyes and trying to keep their mounts under control as they traversed the slippery terrain. With their concentration so acute and the noise of the storm so intense, it was no wonder they didn’t hear the approaching wagon and team behind them on the trail.

  The driver, also preoccupied with the storm and maneuvering his team, didn’t see the riders in front of him either. Until it was too late.

  Arapahoe seemed to sense it, or maybe felt it, before he noticed. The team of horses was pulling abreast of him at a frenzied speed, pushing him and his gray to the side of the trail against the upper embankment. The gray screamed in terror as the wagon hubs scraped against his underbelly, causing him to rear onto his hind legs; forelegs pawing at the rain drenched air before him. He twisted on his hind legs in close quarters, slipping and sliding and falling to his haunches as the wagon cleared by. Rap clung to the reins and tried to grasp the saddle horn, but it was too slick. As the gray fell backward, Rap pitched from the saddle landing flat on his back in the mud. It was far too sticky and mushy to allow him to roll away from the falling horse. He saw the big carcass dropping toward him. He covered his eyes with his arm as if it would shield him. There was nothing else he could do but wait for the tremendous weight to come crashing down on him.

  A moment, maybe two and he realized it hadn’t happened. He drew his arm away and peeked out into the driving rain. The old gray had slipped just enough to fall clear of his master, but was now thrashing about in the mud. Rap crawled away as fast as he could.

  Meanwhile, the driver of the team had realized that he had run someone down and there were more riders still ahead. He pulled sharply on the leathers, swerving the wagon to the outside edge of the trail. He barely brushed Cyclone as he swerved and Cyclone managed to gig his horse forward and just out of the way of the oncoming team and wagon. He rear ended Chief Henry and pushed him up against Dandy Jim Butler, who in turn slid into Kitty and Matt Starr.

  The wagon slewed to the side and slid off the trail. The front wheel sank deep above the hub into the soft mud just below the trail and the entire front end tilted downward and sideways at a forty five degree angle. The horses bogged down in the mud; the outside horse slipping and falling on his side along the embankment. He thrashed in his traces, pulling his team mate toward the edge also. The horse shrieked with terror and thrashed about trying to regain footing.

  Cyclone, suddenly realizing what was happening, whirled his horse around on the narrow trail and pressed close to the inside horse. The horse’s neck and head were swinging about wildly and Cyclone tried repeatedly to get a grasp on the halter and kept missing it. About the third or fourth try he managed to get his big gnarled fingers around the leather. He hung on tight. It was slippery with rain water. Quickly, he backpedaled his mount, angling toward the higher bank above the trail and pulled with all his might, making sure that the bit dug deeply into the horse’s mouth, forcing him to come under control.

  The other riders up front, had by now become aware of the situation and had turned back toward the disabled team and wagon.

  The wagon driver had jumped down from the wagon seat and was trying to crawl over the downed horse and tangled traces. He was screaming, but it only blurred into a haunting moan, lost in the rushing rain, cracking thunder and shrieking of horses.

  Rap, already on foot was the first to reach the screaming man. He pulled him back from the thrashing horses. The man struck out at him to drive him back, but Arapahoe clamped his big hands around the man’s arms and yanked him backward, practically pulling him off his feet.

  “Take it easy, feller,” Rap shouted. “We’re here to help.”

  Whether the noise was too much for the man to hear him or he just didn’t understand, Rap didn’t know, but he thought he heard the man say something about a wife and baby.

  The others had gathered around now. Jeremy was helping Cyclone to hold the horse. Matt, Kitty and Butler had all dismounted and were descending on the terrified man. Chief Henry remained in the saddle, shaking out a rope and looping it over the downed horse’s neck, backpedaling and finally settling him under control as he lay on his belly.

  “My wife and baby fell off the wagon and went over the bank!” The man was shouting it over and over and even in the raging din the Wildcats finally understood.

  “We’ll get them!” Matt Starr shouted, hoping the man understood him.

  “Hold him, Rap!” The lawman shouted. Rap nodded understanding and tightened his grip on the man, pulling him back onto the trail.

  Matt jumped over the lip of the trail. His boot heels dug into the mud, but he still slid most of the way down the bank; falling backwards and sliding on his back the rest of the way to the bottom of the ravine. Dandy Jim Butler was right behind him and they reached the bottom almost at the same time. There were large rocks and boulders strewn about the slope, but they managed to avoid colliding with any.

  The form lying in a heap at the foot of the ravine had not been so lucky. It had
been stopped by a large boulder and was now wedged half sideways; backbone flat against the rock.

  Matt and Butler crawled over to the still form and was starting to pull the form free when Kitty came sliding down the bank. Somehow she had managed to keep upright all the way down. As the form was rolled completely over on her back, Kitty could see the bloody gash on the woman’s forehead. Her eyes were closed and she appeared either unconscious or dead.

  “Is she alive?” Kitty asked, shouting above the storm. She was afraid she already knew the answer and she suddenly felt empty and alone.

  Dandy Jim lifted the woman’s eyelids, one at a time, and let them drop closed. He bent over the woman, putting his face close to hers and remained still for several seconds. He nodded his head up and down affirming his assessment. “Just barely. She’s hurt bad though.”

  Kitty felt a bit of relief, then she noticed that the woman’s slicker was bulged out in front and beneath the rain covered fabric, the woman’s arms were clamped tightly around a small form wrapped in blankets. Then she remembered the man up on the trail shouting something about a baby.

  She pulled the slicker partway up, careful to keep the rain off the little bundle. As she pulled the blankets aside, she saw the round face of a baby. Pink booties jutted out beneath the blanket. A little girl. She had a mop of curly blond hair. She was wide awake with big round blue eyes staring up at Kitty. She smiled into Kitty’s face and kicked her little feet happily. With everything that had happened, the child seemed to be miraculously unscathed and unaware of its plight.

  Kitty reached in, pulled the baby free and quickly tucked her up under her own slicker. The baby, suddenly being pulled from her position of comfort and being exposed briefly to the cold air and pounding rain, lost her playfulness and quickly screwed her little face up and began to cry.

  Kitty scrambled up the bank while Matt and Jim tended to the mother.

  The others, up on top, had ropes in place around the wagon and were backing their horses, pulling the rig up out of the mud and back onto the trail. The team had been settled and both horses were standing securely.

  They were a rain drenched bunch by the time the wagon rolled into the yard of the small ranch house. The woman had been placed carefully in the bed of the wagon and Kitty had accompanied her, trying to keep as much of the rain off the injured woman as much as possible. She still carried the baby beneath her own slicker. The baby had squirmed uneasily for the most part of the trip and occasionally when the roar of the storm settled she could hear the poor child crying. Eventually as she tried to comfort the baby with a tight grasp and a soothing rocking motion, the baby seemed to settle down and the crying stopped.

  Matt Starr had ridden Kitty’s pinto by himself and when the riders and wagon rolled into the yard, he quickly dismounted and rushed to the rear of the wagon. Jeremy had already dismounted and was helping Kitty down from the wagon box.

  The woman’s husband was unlocking the front door to the small one story house, that was only slightly more than a shack. Had the storm not been so intense and had it not been so dark, it might have been seen as a cute little cottage; having been built with care and maintained well.

  Kitty scurried passed the man, hustling her precious bundle inside to safety from the storm outside.

  By now Dandy Jim Butler had joined Matt and Jeremy and were carrying the woman through the open door behind her.

  The woman’s husband followed in quickly. It was dark inside. He searched out a kerosene lamp, lit it, and led the way into the single bedroom at the rear of the house. Long curtains draped from an overhead wooden pole were all that separated it from the living area. He pulled the curtains aside and the three men carried the woman to the bed. They stripped off the woman’s slicker, let it fall to the bare plank floor, pulled down the covers and carefully place her on the bed.

  “More light,” Dandy Jim demanded, as if taking charge. “I need more light.”

  The woman’s husband nodded, placing the lamp on a night stand next to the bed. He turned and rushed to the other room and returned with another lit kerosene lamp.

  The room had been in deep shadows, but with the additional light, it seemed to come alive with a cheery golden glow, reflecting a well cared for abode. Bright colored frilly curtains hung from each window on each side of the room. The feminine touch here was very evident.

  “Bring the light closer,” Dandy Jim said as he leaned over the woman and brushed a lock of brown hair away from her left eye, revealing the bloody gash on her forehead.

  Matt Starr stepped back out of the way, watching. To say he was surprised at Dandy Jim’s behavior was beyond comprehension. He was seeing the gambler in an entirely different mode that he never would have thought possible. He actually seemed to be a caring man and he seemed to know something about attending to an injured person.

  The woman was still unconscious. Eyes were closed. Butler examined them both again. Placed his ear on her chest and listened. When straightened he said, “Heart beat is a little faint but it’s regular and seems to be getting stronger.”

  He examined her arms, felt of her rib cage, stomach, and abdomen. Said nothing. Pulled the covers all the way down and pulled both legs straight. The woman winced in her unconsciousness as he straightened her right leg. He examined it, feeling from the femur to the ankle. The ankle was reddish purple with broken blood vessels and was beginning to swell.

  “I was afraid she had broken a leg,” Jim said. “But I think she just has a bad sprain.”

  He reached under the woman and rolled her to her side. She groaned. “Bring the light a little closer,” he said.

  Her husband lowered the lamp. Butler slid the woman’s dress up to reveal her bare back. He felt along the spine and outward into the muscles. She flinched as he touched the tender areas.

  “There’s no bruising of the flesh, but she has bad swelling around three vertebrae in the middle of her back. I don’t know if anything is cracked or broken. We’ll have to hope not. About the only thing I can do is try to get the swelling down.” He let her roll flat on her back and stood up, staring down at her and seemingly deep in thought.

  Kitty had been in the living room holding the baby. She had taken off her slicker and hat lit two more kerosene lamps. The baby had settled in her arms and she stepped to the opening to the bedroom. She had been watching the gambler’s attention to the baby’s mother. She too was completely surprised by the man’s actions. She glanced away from him and stared at Matt with shock and wonder in her eyes. Matt met her stare. He shrugged, indicating he was just as surprised and not knowing what to make of it.

  “Will she be alright?” The woman’s husband asked.

  “I don’t know,” Butler said grimly. “I’ll do what I can. We just have to hope.”

  “Are you a doctor or something?” The man said.

  Butler didn’t answer. He said. “It’s cold in here. You need to get a fire going. I need some cold water for the swelling.” He dabbed a handkerchief against the gash on her brow and wiped the blood away. The bleeding had subsided substantially, but the wound needed immediate attention.

  “How’s the baby?” Dandy Jim said, glancing toward Kitty.

  “She seems to be okay,” she said.

  “She’s been sick,” the baby’s father said. “That’s why we had gone into town. To see a doctor. She’s had a bad cold. The doc gave us some medicine.”

  Butler arose from the bedside and stepped toward Kitty. He held out his arms and Kitty reluctantly handed the baby over to him. She suddenly felt an emptiness and a longing.

  The gambler cradled the baby gently in his arms. He ran his hand over the baby’s forehead, felt around her neck and her chest. He lifted her higher so he could place his ear against her chest. When he looked up again he said. “She has fever, but not too bad. Her chest is very congested. We’ll need buckets of hot water. We need to steam this place up.”

  He handed the baby back to Kitty. She suddenly felt less emp
ty. She clutched the baby tightly and held her close to her breast.

  Then to the baby’s father, Butler said. “You said you have some medicine?”

  “Yes,” the man said, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a bottle of dark liquid. “He gave her a dose of this tonic while we were in his office.”

  Dandy Jim took the bottle, examined the label and said. “Good. It says every four hours, but in light of what’s happened and with the cold and rain, I’d say we give her another dose now. It’ll make her groggy, but it shouldn’t hurt her any.”

 

  Arapahoe, Cyclone, and Chief Henry Two Owls had attended to the horses; stabling them in the barn and were just stomping into the small house when Matt and the homesteader emerged from the bedroom. They had carried in bedrolls and saddle bags and dropped them in a heap on the floor in an empty corner. They were just starting to remove their slickers when Matt said, “Chief, get us a fire going, will you?” He indicated the fireplace at the back wall of the living room. Table and chairs were arranged in an eating area to the right of it near the end wall.

  “Sure thing, Marshal,” he said without affecting his faux Indian talk. There even seemed to be a bit of respect in his tone. He slid his slicker completely off and made his way to the fire place. A supply of wood stood to the left. He bent to his knee and started placing some kindling in the open hearth.

  To the homesteader, Matt said, “Show me where the buckets and water are.” He headed for the door.

  Chapter Eleven