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“My God,” the woman yelled. “Help! Someone, please help us!”
Sam waited until they were gone a while before moving.
He wiggled and moved about ‘til Riley figured out he was trying to reach something out of the leg of his pants. He finally dug out a knife and tried to get the knife in his hands. It took a lot of twisting and turning before he could get the knife turned so he could grab it with one hand. He had to kick the knife about to get it in just the right place. He had to twist his body in a million directions to get his hand around the knife well enough to control where he was cutting. Sweat peppered his forehead, Riley watched in fascination as the man she had come to trust was once again saving her and the fellow passengers. The two other men sat very still as though they’d lost all hope of getting loose.
“Will someone rescue us?” the woman finally cried out.
“They’ll discover the stage not arriving on time. And then they’ll send out a posse, I’m sure of it,” her husband reassured her with a sense of authority.
“That may be, but we need water and food and rescue could take a day or two,” Sam replied as he cut the last of his own ropes and began freeing Riley.
In less than a half hour they were all loose from the trees, but it was obvious the travelers were not experienced in self-survival. They stood around in a circle, all talking at once, and making no sense. The woman gave a hopeless shrug, the men shifted from one foot to the other restlessly as though they really didn’t know what to do now.
Sam took charge quickly, Riley noticed. And despite his color they all listened to him for he was the only one offering any solutions to the problems they now faced.
“Something I gotta do before we leave here.”
“What?” Riley asked.
“Bury my dog…” Sam informed her.
Riley nodded. “Need some help?”
“That would be nice.”
The others stared at them, as though they’d lost their minds.
“You’re worried about a dead dog…at a time like this?” the woman huffed.
“Yes ma’am, I’ll be back and then we’ll travel toward Dallas and a creek,” Sam insisted, tipping his hat.
Riley followed him.
“Are you sure he’s…dead?” Riley asked.
“I’m sure.”
Sam stared at the stage, the door flopping open in the whistling wind, and Nodog slumped on the ground not far behind the stage. He’d been shot and killed.
Sam drug him to the side of the road under a shade tree and checked the back of the stage for a shovel that was always handy. In an hour they had buried him.
“Lord, he was a good dog, I’m sure you can take care of him now,” Sam uttered.
“He was a very good dog, Sam,” Riley said, putting her hand on his arm.
Sam looked down at Riley and sent her a passionate glance. “Thanks…”
They slowly walked back to the others who were still milling about, and arguing.
“We need to push on as it will be dark soon. We need to find water. The Trinity should be close now.”
“We have to walk?” The woman stood still and waited for the answer.
“‘Fraid so, ma’am. We need to be near water by nightfall,” Sam instructed.
“Why can’t some of you men go get some and bring it back? Or one of you go for help?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.
Sam sighed heavily. “Ma’am, no one man can carry enough water back for all of us and we can move closer to the river for our own needs. Water is our first priority, then food.”
