Riders on the Wind

  Riders on the Wind

  John Hauck and his Nez Percé wife are hired by the proprietor of the Wild West show in which they have performed to track down his kidnapped daughter. Their quest to find her takes them across the country from the settled East to the untamed mountains in the West, following a twisted trail of lies and deception, fighting all the way against the sinister Dement and his outlaw gang.

  On the journey, they are joined by Hauck's old friend, the Sioux chief Otoktay, who leaves the Reservation to go on the warpath one last time.

  How will the old-timers deal with a changing world as they reprise former battles? The days of the Old West are numbered. What will be its legacy?

  Riders on the Wind

  Vance Tillman

  ROBERT HALE

  © Vance Tillman 2011

  First published in Great Britain 2012

  ISBN 978-0-7198-2297-1

  The Crowood Press

  The Stable Block

  Crowood Lane

  Ramsbury

  Marlborough

  Wiltshire SN8 2HR

  www.bhwesterns.com

  This e-book first published in 2017

  Robert Hale is an imprint of The Crowood Press

  The right of Vance Tillman to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him

  in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  Chapter One

  It was a bright morning; roosters were calling, dogs barking and cattle bells ringing in the pastures. The two riders had risen early and had already passed the farmhouse just as lights were appearing in the kitchen windows. They were a man and a woman, no longer young but fit and well-honed. The man was lean yet strongly built; the woman small and light-framed. She wore a conventional riding outfit that could not hide the graceful bearing of her Nez Percé origin.

  ‘Looks like somebody’s havin’ a spot of trouble up ahead,’ the man said.

  The woman nodded. Her keen eyes had seen the wagon too, stranded by the side of the road. As they got closer they could see that the left fore-wheel had come off. A man was standing near by; he had unhitched the horses and fastened them to a tree.

  ‘By the look of the way the front of the buggy has dropped, I’d say there was a good chance the axle-box must’ve come loose,’ the man said.

  A few moments later his surmise was proved correct when the woman spotted the missing item lying in the dust by the side of the road. They halted long enough for her to retrieve it, then they rode on till they came alongside the wagon.

  ‘This what you’re lookin’ for?’ the man said.

  The man with the wagon looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun. ‘Say, where’d you find that? I bin searchin’ for a good hour an’ couldn’t see no trace.’

  ‘You’ve got the lady to thank for that. Don’t much escape her notice.’ The two riders dismounted.

  ‘My name is Hauck, John Hauck, and this is Julia.’

  The man held out his hand. ‘Riley,’ he replied, ‘Wendell Riley. Sure am pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Let’s get that axle fixed,’ Hauck said.

  The two men set to work. While they did so the Indian woman looked admiringly at the polished buckles and red rosettes on the horses’ harnesses. The horses themselves had been carefully brushed and combed and the man looked equally well-groomed in a black suit and boots and with his hair slicked back. He was dusty and hot now but he had obviously made a big effort to look smart. It didn’t take long to get the buggy fixed.

  ‘Nice rig,’ Hauck commented as he stood back. ‘Goin’ some place special?’

  ‘County fair. Got to pick up my gal on the way. She’ll have been expectin’ me. Sure hope she ain’t gone with anyone else.’

  ‘Better get movin’,’ Hauck said.

  The man hesitated. He was young and suddenly seemed embarrassed. ‘Sure appreciate you folks helpin’ me,’ he said. ‘Say, why don’t you come along? It ain’t but a few miles to town.’

  Hauck turned towards the woman. He couldn’t mistake the gleam in her eye. ‘Sure,’ he said.

  ‘Why don’t I see you there? I could introduce you to some of the folks.’

  For the first time the woman spoke. ‘That would be real nice,’ she said. She smiled and glanced towards the buggy. ‘Like he says, better get movin’. You don’t want to keep your lady waitin’ longer than she has already.’

  Riley grinned; it made him look little more than a boy. Climbing into the buggy he started his team on a quick trot down the road, leaning back to wave at them as he went.

  ‘Something about him reminds me of you,’ Julia said to her partner. ‘When I first met you. Remember?’

  ‘That was a long time ago,’ he replied.

  ‘Don’t seem like it though.’

  The man smiled and reaching into his pocket pulled out a small package.

  ‘You still carry that thing around with you?’

  ‘Sure do,’ he replied.

  It was a parfleche made from tanned buffalo hide, painted with geometric designs which had once been bright but were now faded with usage. Inside was a string of beads made from animal claws.

  ‘Good medicine,’ she said.

  ‘The best,’ he replied.

  He replaced the parfleche in the pocket of his jacket. ‘Come on, Ealaothek-kaunis,’ he said. It was her Nez Percé name and it meant Birds Landing. ‘Guess we’re goin’ to the county fair.’

  As they got closer to town the roads became thick with wagons, buckboards and top-buggies, most of them gaily decorated, making their way towards the town which soon came in sight – a cluster of frame buildings and stores around a central square with some shade trees. A newly painted sign read Scott Corner. People had congregated in the town square, their conveyances lining the adjacent streets. It was an animated scene. Around three sides of the square booths had been set up and on the fourth side there were trestle tables loaded with foodstuffs. At one were platters laden with baked hams, fried chickens and other cooked meats; at another there were pumpkins, watermelons and apples and on one more jams, cakes, cookies and pies. An elderly lady in a blue gingham dress was serving lemonade. Further off, on the edge of town, some corrals were filled with livestock. There were farm implements and, in pride of place, a mechanical threshing machine. In the streets people were thronging round a series of stalls and from somewhere a piano tinkled. Hauck and Birds Landing dismounted and tied their horses to a hitchrack outside a drugstore on the fringes of the most populated area and made their way inside. There was a soda fountain and people sat together on little revolving stools. It was quite busy but they were soon served. They were just about to get up and leave when Wendell Riley came bursting through the door, accompanied by a fair-haired girl wearing a white muslin dress.

  ‘Figured I’d run into you,’ he said. ‘What’d I say, Hester? Didn’t I say they must be somewhere around?’

  Without pausing for breath he came up to Hauck and Birds Landing. ‘Thanks to you I just made it in time,’ he said. He turned to the girl. ‘Hester, I’d like for you to meet Mr Hauck and Julia.’

  The girl smiled and held out her hand without any suggestion of awkwardness.

  ‘Have you seen around?’ Wendell asked.

  ‘Just about to do it,’ Birds Landing replied.

  ‘Come on, we’ll show you.’

  They were on their way outside when their path to the doorway was blocked by three men. They were mean-looking and they all wore sidearms.

  ‘Excuse me,’ the boy began.

  The men stood immobile. Some of the customers in the drugstore made for an exit at the rear. Others watched with close attention.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Wendell repeated.

  One of the men moved a fraction to one side. ‘Go on out, boy,’ he said. ‘We ain’t got no quarrel with you or your girl.’

  Riley looked bemused. Hauck stepped forward.

  ‘It’s OK, Wendell. Do as he says. Take Hester outside. We’ll meet up with you later.’

  The boy looked unsure. Hester pushed at him from behind and after another moment’s hesitation he moved to the door. With a last glance back he led his girl into the street.

  For the first time Hauck confronted the three men. His blue eyes were hard and the man who had spoken looked away for a moment before turning to his henchmen. Hauck remained silent.

  ‘This is a nice town,’ the man said. ‘We don’t hold truck with no Injun lovers.’

  ‘ ’Specially not a squaw-man,’ one of the others added.

  ‘Ain’t that right?’ the third one said, turning his head to address the remaining customers. Most of them looked uncomfortable. One of them, a fat man wearing a black suit and string tie, responded with a feeble: ‘Sure.’

  ‘What’s more,’ the leader of the group said, ‘we aim to teach you a lesson. Just to make sure that you understand the situation.’

  ‘Pistol-whip ’em,’ someone shouted from the back of the room.

  The man took one step forward. Before he had time to take a second Hauck’s fist had crashed into his face, shattering his nose and sending him reeling backwards.

  ‘Why you—’ he began.

  His hand moved towards the gun which was placed butt forwards in its holster, but even as he drew it something glistened through the air and buried itself in his throat. Birds Landing had thrown her knife with deadly accuracy. The man hit the floor and lay there gurgling as blood spouted from his mouth. The other two men had drawn their guns but Hauck was quicke
r. The gun in his hand spat lead and they both went down, one of them firing his pistol harmlessly into the ceiling as he fell. After the noise and unexpected violence there was an eerie calm. Hauck turned round.

  ‘You!’ he said.

  A man at the back of the room wearing fancy duds looked up in alarm.

  ‘Who, me? I ain’t done nothin.’ It was the man who had advocated the pistol-whipping.

  ‘You can apologize on their behalf to me and the lady,’ Hauck said. ‘After that you can get out of town and if I ever see you again I’ll kill you.’

  The man looked about him as if to elicit some support but if that was his aim none was forthcoming.

  ‘I . . . I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Real sorry.’

  ‘OK, apology accepted. Now git and remember what I said.’

  Quickly the man slinked through the back door. Hauck turned to the man behind the counter.

  ‘Sorry about this,’ he said, ‘but all you folks saw that this was none of our doing.’ He reached into his pocket, drew out some dollar bills and threw them on the counter.

  ‘That should cover any damage. Now I guess somebody had better roust out the marshal. And the undertaker.’

  Hauck and Birds Landing turned on their heels and walked out of the door. Outside everything was as normal, with the people enjoying the holiday spirit.

  ‘What now?’ Birds Landing said.

  ‘I think Wendell Riley and his girl are waitin’ for us someplace,’ Hauck replied.

  Birds Landing was for leaving town but Hauck was obstinate. They would leave when they were ready. Word quickly got around and Hauck was conscious of the fact that some people were watching out for them. Nobody seemed prepared to regard them too openly. People were aware of how quickly and ruthlessly they had responded when they were threatened. However, Hauck got the impression that they were not regarded without a certain favour. It was only later in the day that the marshal caught up with him and the reason became clearer.

  ‘I gather you had some trouble in the drugstore,’ he began.

  Hauck was quick to arrive at a judgement of people and the marshal gave a good impression. He was a thin, dry individual with greying hair and a face lined with wrinkles, although he was probably not older than forty. The lines spread from his eyes and there were two deep indentations either side of his nose to the corners of his mouth.

  ‘Nothin’ we couldn’t handle,’ Hauck replied.

  ‘So I gather.’

  ‘Talk to any of the folks that was there,’ Hauck said. ‘They’ll tell you how it was.’

  ‘I know how it was,’ the marshal replied.

  They were walking round the display of farm implements.

  ‘The name’s Harper,’ the marshal said. ‘Ben Harper.’

  Hauck introduced himself and Birds Landing.

  ‘To tell you the truth,’ the marshal said, ‘you’ve kinda done me a favour. I’ve been havin’ some trouble from those varmints for a whiles. I guess it was just a question of time.’

  Dusk was drawing down and in the town square lights were being rigged up in the trees.

  ‘Dancin’ tonight,’ the marshal said. ‘Why don’t you stick around?’

  Hauck looked at Birds Landing. ‘Sure,’ he said.

  Just then Wendell Riley came by. ‘Mr Hauck,’ he said. ‘I heard what happened at the drugstore.’ He looked hesitantly at the marshal. ‘Man, that was some show you put on!’

  Hauck shook his head. ‘Had no choice,’ he replied.

  ‘If you folks need a place to stay after the dance,’ the marshal said, ‘I could recommend the Regent.’

  Riley looked eagerly from one to another of the four of them. ‘Hey, no need to do that,’ he said. ‘You could stay right out at the farm. I know Ma and Pa would be only too happy.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ Hauck replied. ‘Birds Landing and me, we’re used to sleepin’ under the stars.’

  ‘Well, the offer stands,’ Riley replied. ‘Just think about it. We’ve got plenty of room.’

  ‘I’ll need you folks just to clear up a few formalities,’ the marshal said. ‘Whatever your plans are, how about you check in with me tomorrow mornin’?’

  ‘No problem,’ Hauck replied. ‘We’ll be there.’

  Lanterns had been hung in the branches of the trees. A couple of fiddlers began to tune up and they were joined by an accordion. Some of the older women began to clap and keep time with their feet. A few couples commenced to dance under the trees.

  ‘If you’ll excuse us?’ Wendell said, taking Hester by the arm and leading her to the open space which now served as a dance floor.

  ‘A nice pair,’ the marshal said.

  The musicians began to play a waltz and Hauck looked at Birds Landing.

  ‘What are we waitin’ for?’ she said.

  The marshal watched as Hauck put his arms about her waist. They moved well, better than most of the younger participants. The marshal watched them for a while before turning away and walking off down the street. Odd, he was thinking. They don’t seem to have been affected in any way by what happened earlier. Most people would have been put off their stride. Not them. He looked back. There were a lot of people dancing now and he didn’t see them for a moment until they came swirling back into view. The waltz had finished and the musicians had struck up a long gliding tune which he recognized as an old Bohemian melody. There were quite a lot of Bohemians and Swedes and some Czechs in the area. They all got on well. He felt a sudden sense of shame that the Indian lady had been treated the way she had. The way she had dealt with it, nobody was likely to try it again.

  It was late. The land was drenched in moonlight and in the fields the straw stacks cast deep shadows. Most of the townsfolk had retired for the night and along the dusty roads the last of the farm dwellers were making their way homewards. Hauck and Birds Landing were riding behind Riley’s top-buggy. In the end they had been persuaded to go back with him to the farm. He had dropped Hester off at the farmstead where she lived with her parents and two brothers. Presently the road took a dip, then, as it climbed again to top the brow of a low hill Riley’s farm came into view, etched against the deep azure-blue of the sky. The farmhouse was dark apart from one light in a side window. Behind it there were the shadowy outlines of a barn and between the two was a windmill. Before they had even reached the gate Hauck rode up alongside the wagon and signalled to Riley to halt.

  ‘Just about home,’ Riley began.

  Hauck held a finger to his lips.

  ‘What is it?’ Riley said.

  ‘I don’t know. Somethin’s not right.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The only sound I can hear is the creak of that windmill,’ Hauck said. ‘I can smell pigs. I ain’t no farmer, but shouldn’t they be making some sort of sound? What about dogs? You got a dog?’

  Riley listened closely. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Ol’ Brownie shoulda been barkin’ by now.’

  ‘Wait here,’ Hauck said. ‘I’ll take a look.’

  ‘I’m comin’ with you.’

  ‘Don’t make any noise.’

  Leaving the horses and the buggy in the charge of Birds Landing, Hauck and Riley opened the gate and moved silently up the path to the farmhouse. As they approached Hauck saw something lying in the yard. They moved quickly forward. It was the dog. He had been shot. Before Hauck could stop him Riley had rushed to the door. It swung open at his push. Hauck pulled his gun out of its holster and followed him inside the house. It was dark, the only light seeping out from the partly open door of the kitchen. Without pausing Riley rushed forward, followed by Hauck. He pushed at the kitchen door but it was jammed. He pushed harder. Hauck tugged at his sleeve but he was frantic now. Rushing at the door, he put his shoulder to it and it opened far enough for them to see a woman’s legs. She was jammed behind the door but there was sufficient room to step through. Riley let out an unearthly howl and fell to his knees.

  The kitchen was a scene of slaughter. Blood had gathered in a pool on the floor and the walls were spattered with it. The bodies of Riley’s parents lay twisted in death. They had both been shot a number of times. Hauck took in the scene at once and, leaving Riley where he kneeled, moved quickly back to the parlour.