Chapter Forty
Katelyn had placed Jamie safely down inside of the Fitzsimmons family's wagon before fleeing any further from her attackers. The woman had correctly ascertained that she could and would run faster--and farther--without the infant's weight in her arms. And run she did! And--for close to a quarter of an hour--Katelyn had remained two steps ahead of her panting pursuers. But all five of the filthy-minded men finally caught up to her--in a little clearing along the riverbank--about a mile southeast of the Settlement. As the exhausted woman was gang-tackled to the ground by the disgusting group, she cut loose with another one of her unbelievably loud, blood-curdling screams.
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The memory of what had happened to Koree--and her mother--at the hands of those five, big, bad-smellin' buffalo hunters made more than one painful pass across the Marshal's mind on his five minute flight to the Settlement. (Crown could've covered the distance in under four minutes on a cooler day, but to do so that particularly hot afternoon would've meant killing his horse!) The lawman was nearing the Fitzsimmons family's camp when a faint cry came floating up the river at him. He could hardly hear it over the pounding of his mare's flying hooves. So he reigned the snorting, lathered thoroughbred to a halt and then sat there--motionless for a few moments--hoping to hear the sound again. The Marshal didn't have long to wait. Less then three seconds later, Katelyn cut loose with another of her blood-curdling screams! Which the waters of the Cimarron again carried across to him. He aimed his sweating steed in the gut-wrenching sound's direction and then kicked it back into high gear.
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Katelyn's attackers were so preoccupied with pawing at her body parts--and ripping her clothing off--that they failed to notice the approaching rider 'til he was nearly halfways across the clearing. The group glanced up--in unison. And--upon seeing the Marshal's ghost galloping down on them--their jaws went slack. And they just stood there--feeling too stunned to move...and looking positively aghast.
The lawman took advantage of the element of surprise and began emptying his first peace-maker into the dazed and amazed looking crowd.
Elliot Polk stared in wide-eyed astonishment as the advancing apparition put three slugs through three of his fellow thugs' hearts! A fourth bullet slammed into Butch Delliss' left shoulder! But when a fifth tore at his own shirt sleeve--it was time for him to leave! He disappeared into the bushes which surrounded the little opening they were in, dragging his groaning and grimacing--and sole-surviving--associate along with him. It had never once occurred to him to return fire on the marauding dead man. Because--he believed--a bullet could not STO-OP a ghost. He and his bleeding-like-a-stuck-pig companion were about a quarter of a mile away from the clearing when it finally occurred to him that rea-eal ghosts would not need to kill people with gu-uns! A rea-eal 'ghost' could probably just scare a man ta death--or somethin'! So-o, Polk began thinking that the Judge was right about Jim Crown not being dead. The outlaw also came up with one sure-fire way ta find out!
Once again, Katelyn had used the distraction to her advantage. The resourceful little lady had dragged herself off to hide under the protective cover of some thick, low shrubs that were growing there along the river's sandy bank.
"Katelyn, c'mon!" Jim Crown suddenly called out--and positioned he and his horse between her and the last known where-abouts of her still-alive attackers.
She scrambled out from cover and hurried over to where her husband's horse stood, snorting and trembling--the sweat jes' streaming from its heaving sides and underbelly.
The lawman extended his left wrist.
The woman latched onto it with both of her trembling hands and was immediately hauled up across the front of his saddle. Katelyn was barely aboard when the Marshal once again booted their mutual mount into an all-out gallop! Her husband was apparently in one hell of a hurry to get them both clear of the little clearing.
When they'd covered what the Marshal must've considered to be a safe distance from the site of the assault, the completely-lathered horse was once again hauled in. The peace officer made a prompt--though somewhat painful--dismount and then gently eased his pretty passenger to the ground. Where the reunited couple proceeded to collapse--literally--into one another's open arms.
"Did they...hurt you?!" the lawman breathlessly inquired, and began rocking the trembling woman in an attempt to comfort her and calm her down.
"No-o!" Katelyn rather relievedly replied, "But I hate ta think...a' what would a' happened...if you hadn't a' shown up! What about you-ou?! Are you all right?!"
"They never even got off a shot!" the still amazed Marshal announced. It was--beyond a doubt--the most one-sided gun battle the lawman had ever been in! "What about Jamie?!"
"I put him in Helen's wagon," the boy's still a bit breathless mommy said. And then went on to explain, "He cain't crawl out a' there by himself...So he should be all right, too!"
"C'mon, I'll walk you back ta the Settlement," her husband offered--and released the hold he'd been keeping on the rest of her, to firmly clasp her hand.
"You're in no condition ta go after those men!" his bride determined as she was hauled off--torn dress and all.
"I'm in no mood ta let 'em get away!" Jim Crown quickly--albeit, a bit angrily--came back.
"Have you forgotten again what the Lord sayeth about revenge?" the worried woman wondered.
"I tol' yah, He sometimes works in mysterious wa-ays..." the mysterious lawman reminded the lovely lady right back--and kept right on walking. But not talking. The 'newlyweds' completed their journey to the Settlement in silence...well, almost. About two-thirds a' the way back, the hand-holding couple happened upon a rather large group of his special deputies rifle-toting wives.
"Thank God you're safe!" their leader, Helen Fitzsimmons cried when the gun-toting group caught sight of them.
"How's Patrick?" the Marshal wondered as the relieved rescuers began, one-by-one, to hug his roughed-up a bit--but not 'raped' wife, "Danny said he'd been shot?"
"Oh...well...Not exactly," Patrick's heroic wife hesitatingly replied, "You see, he was crouched behind this tree that Danny always leaves the hay fork leaning against. The bullet hit the hay fork, and the hay fork's handle went flying with so much force that--when it hit Patrick in the head--it knocked him cold. The Doctor's stitching him up now. He says that Pat might have a slight headache for a day or two, but other than tha-at, he'll be fi-ine!" she finished, much to her husband's boss' relief. "He also said that Ned and Rebecca Shroeder now have a beautiful baby boy!" she blurted out and then stood there, beaming with joy.
Speakin' a beautiful baby bo-oys...
"How's Jamie?" Katelyn casually inquired, "He jes' woke up, so I know he needed changin'..." her words trailed off as the joy suddenly drained from her friend's face.
"I don't kno-ow...I haven' seen him," Helen avowed.
"But...I left him in yore wagon," Jamie's mommy anxiously stated.
"He's not there, Katelyn. I just went through our whole wagon looking for a box of spare cartridges--" Helen's words were suddenly drowned out by the sound of a very fast-moving horse's drumming hooves.
Jamie's horrified mommy turned in the fading sound's direction just in time to watch the horse--and it's rider--disappear from view.
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Speakin' a' horses' an' their riders...
While their mysterious visitors slept the entire morning away, the soldiers at Fort Dawes had carried out an exhausting--and unsuccessful--search for their missing--but certainly not missed--Major.
Around noon, the Lieutenant--who had taken it upon himself to personally search the guard house--had, at last, been allowed to assume Command of the Post. A still saddle-sore, but somewhat refreshed, Senator Fisher had then issued the Fort's new Commander the 'Presidential Directive' he was carrying.
At which time, Lieutenant Anderson issued his troops the order to mount up...because they were needed to help the Marshal restore order in Cimarron.
Several of his sergeants--who were all older and wiser than he--had suggested to their young, and inexperienced new leader, that--with the temperature hovering at, or above, the hundred degree mark--it might be better to wait and then ride out after nightfall.
Better--perhaps--for them, the Lieutenant had patiently pointed out, but the Marshal might be dea-ead by nightfall.
Thus, the entire Company of soldiers--some completely bare-chested, some in just their underwear, (The young Lt. had mercifully allowed his men to shed their dark-blue, heat-absorbing, Army-issued shirts.) had been plodding slowly...and steadily...and silently along all that hellishly hot afternoon.
The so-ore, sweating--and not jes' from the heat--Senator suddenly swung his doggie mount up beside the Lt.'s and at long last, broke the silence, "At this rate, we won't reach Cimarron 'til after nightfall!" he bemoaned.
"Sorry, Dave..." Mark apologized, "I know how you feel. I like the Marshal, too. An' heaven knows I want to help him. But if we push these horses, or these men, any harder in this heat, we won't reach Cimarron at all!"
Dave shut his bemoaning mouth and dropped his sweating horse back in alongside Mr. Adams'.
"That kid sure makes a fine Commanding Officer, don' he," Charley confessed with a wry smile, "Makes me proud ta have played a part in his promotion!"
"Me, too..." Dave bemusedly agreed.
And then they all returned to riding slowly...and steadily... and silently along.