Part 50 (2/2)

”He won't.”

”He'd cut yours off. Then you'd get your wish.”

”It ain't my wish. I was only just jos.h.i.+ng.”

I lifted my hands to Jesse's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I held them gently, feeling their chilly wetness, their slickness and weight, the press of their nipples. She didn't stop me. Instead, she eased herself lower against my hands. Then she kissed my lips.

”We ain't never gonna kill Whittle,” she finally said, ”'less we hit the trail.”

Then she kissed me again, leaned back and unwrapped the s.h.i.+rt sleeves from around her neck. Reaching high up behind her, she pushed her arms into the sleeves.

As she fastened the b.u.t.tons, I realized what she'd just said. ”We aren't going to kill Whittle,” I told her. ”It's aren't going to kill Whittle,” I told her. ”It's my my duty, and I won't have you involved in such an enterprise.” duty, and I won't have you involved in such an enterprise.”

”That so.”

”Quite.”

We got to our feet, climbed down from the rock, and Jesse watched while I strapped on my gunbelt.

”You ain't going nowhere without me,” she said.

”Eager to get yourself butchered, are you?”

”You might just need me, you know.”

”I don't need you dead.”

”Same goes both ways. How you think I'd like it, you went off and got yourself killed? I'll tell tell you how I'd like it-not much. So I'm sticking with you. Better get used to the notion.” you how I'd like it-not much. So I'm sticking with you. Better get used to the notion.”

Well, I could see no advantage to arguing. With most women, you might as well try and argue with a stump. And Jesse was worse than most that way.

”Whatever you say,” I told her.

She gave me a look so I knew she wasn't fooled. But there was more to her look than that. It seemed to say, ”Just you go ahead and try try going after Whittle without me.” going after Whittle without me.”

Back at our campsite, we gathered up the strips of jerky. We each chewed on a piece while we wrapped the rest in a rag and tucked it into one of the saddlebags. It didn't taste near as ornery as I figured it might, but chewing so hard made my jaw sore. We washed it down with water from the whiskey bottle.

After that, Jesse cut the traces off the buckboard. She mucked about for quite a long spell, and managed to fas.h.i.+on a bridle for General.

We slipped it over his head, then harnessed the swollen tubes of water onto his back with more straps from the traces. When those were in place, there wasn't room for more than one rider. But we didn't have much choice in the matter, as we needed the water.

We strung the two rifles together with a rope tied around the stock of each, and hung them across General's back.

Finally, I put on my hat and Jesse wrapped the German's trouser leg around her head like before.

She mounted up.

We started off northward alongside the creek, me walking.

I felt rather sorry to leave our camp behind. Never mind we'd killed the German there. It was the place where I'd found Jesse alive, against all odds, where we'd worked together and solved a pa.s.sel of problems, where we'd quarreled and settled differences, where we'd laughed and kissed and held each other, where we'd become somewhat more than ”pardners.”

It was our place by the creek. Its upside-down buckboard was still in sight when I already took to missing it.

But we couldn't stay there forever.

Whittle was waiting for me.

He would always be waiting for me, giving me no peace, until I'd found him and put him down.

We knew the flood had washed away the trail, so I sat by the creek while Jesse rode in search of it. I felt mighty lonesome and jittery after she was gone. I worried and worried.

By and by, I noticed a tree off beyond the other sh.o.r.e. Its stump was jammed into a familiar nest of rocks. It was the very same tree where I'd found the German's wife and boy, though the water'd gone away and left it on dry land.

The sight of it turned my insides cold. I wished I hadn't recognized it. But there it was.

I turned my eyes away quick before they could search out the bodies that I'd left on the bank downstream. I knew they were there somewhere. Sure didn't want a look at them.

At last, Jesse came riding back.

I was mighty glad to see her.

”Found it!” she called. ”Still a ways off.”

We followed the creek for a while longer.

By and by, we crossed to the other side and caught up to the trail about a hundred yards farther west. That much of it had gotten itself swept out by the flood.

We followed it, taking turns riding General, sometimes both of us walking to give him a rest. When we got hungry, we ate jerky. We satisfied our thirst, and General's, with water from one of the gut tubes. Neither the food nor the drink was much to brag about, but it took care of our needs.

The first day, we didn't meet up with any other travelers. To keep it that way, we made our camp a good distance from the trail. The next day, we met a man from Bisbee who'd come up by way of Tombstone. He caused us no trouble, but told us how to get to Tombstone, and we were glad to hear that our destination was only sixty or seventy miles off.

For the next three days, we made our way in the direction he'd told us. We managed to shoot some game so we had a few meals other than mule jerky, we found enough fresh water to keep our gut bags full, and we encountered more travelers but no trouble.

Jesse didn't shuck off her s.h.i.+rt again, the whole trip. Not in front of me, leastwise. I reckon she kept it on so I wouldn't be reminded of Whittle.

I thought about him plenty, anyhow. The nearer we got to Tombstone, the more he crept into my head. If Jesse'd skinned off her s.h.i.+rt a few times, I likely would've spent a heap less time worrying about him and more time feeling good. But she didn't, and I stayed clear of the topic.

We never did get us a blanket. We managed to keep warm at night, anyhow, snuggling together on the ground. Even though Jesse didn't allow me to take liberties with her, not even to touch her as I'd done by the creek, the nights were quite wonderful.

I got to wis.h.i.+ng we wouldn't find Tombstone, at all.

But long about sundown of our third traveling day after meeting the Bisbee man, we looked down from a rise and found a town sprawled in the distance, maybe no more than five miles off.

”I reckon it's Tombstone,” Jesse said. Then she slid off General's back, stretched, and rubbed the seat of her dungarees.

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