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His oldest friend didn’t like being told what to do, and if the look on his face was any indication, he didn’t like it now. Aaron sighed long and loud before finally nodding his head. “Follow the old mining road until you get to the fork and head west. Silver Falls is a couple days ride from there but don’t do anything stupid when you get there. Go straight to the Marshal and tell him what happened. From what I gathered when I was there, Walter was more trouble than he was worth, so the Marshal will help you.”
He clenched his jaw, swallowing past the pain in his throat. His head was pounding, and he’d never wanted a drink so bad in his life. If he knew Morning Dove didn’t need him, he’d head straight to the saloon for liquid courage, then set off after her, but he didn’t have time for that. He’d lost two days as it was, and the need to rush after her was strong. It was hard telling what Walter was doing to her right now.
Thoughts of Morning Dove at his mercy made him see red, and he’d never once entertained the notion of killing another human being, but today, he did. He wanted Walter dead at Morning Dove’s feet so he could never hurt her again.
“Where is your gun?”
Aaron’s voice drew his attention back to him. He put a hand to his hip, feeling for his pistol. A fuzzy memory of someone taking it filled his head, and he sighed. “Bastards took it.”
“Then hang on a minute.” He ran to the house and Betsey moved closer to the horse. “You’re in no shape to go after her, Ben.”
“And Morning Dove is no match for Walter or the three men who ride with him.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “No, I suppose not.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Do you care for her?”
He did. To what extent, he wasn’t sure. He knew he wanted her, and having her taken from him only drove the truth home. “Yes, and I intend on bringing her back home where she belongs.”
“And then what?”
Then…
Aaron stepped out of the house before he could contemplate the question further. He carried his Windchester and a gun belt with two pistols tucked into their holsters. Handing them up, he said, “Take these. You’ll no doubt need them.”
He shoved the rifle into the scabbard attached to the saddle. The weight of the revolvers felt good as he unbuckled the belt and strapped it to his waist. He readjusted his hat and swallowed to moisten his bruised throat. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He gripped the reins and gave them a tug before nodding at them both and turning for the road. He didn’t look back, or slow, as Wind Chaser bolted. Morning Dove was right. This horse loved to run.
The old mining road was longer than he remembered, but luck was on his side for once. He found the cold remains of an old campfire as the sun reached its peek in the sky. He could see several trampled spots of grass that showed more than a few people had slept there, and hoped it had been Walter and his men.
Ben stared in the direction they’d gone, the grass worn where the horses had trod. He lifted an arm, then the other, trying to work out the kinks in his muscles and fought fatigue. Riding all day left him stiff and he knew he needed sleep, but sleeping meant they would get even further ahead of him, but how long could he keep going?
He sighed and kicked a rock out of the way before turning to his saddlebags and pulling them off Wind Chaser’s back. His head pounded with every beat of his heart. The pace Wind Chaser was keeping was partly to blame. She’d run to well past noon, not slowing until he made her. She was as eager to get Morning Dove back as he was.
Resting, he tried to eat a hunk of the bread and cheese but grew nauseous after a few bites. He napped under the shade of a tree, but didn’t sleep long. The sun had shifted little since he’d laid down and his head was still killing him.
Saddling Wind Chaser and stowing his food back into the saddlebags, he followed the trail Walter, and the others, were leaving.
He traveled with the sun beating down against his back while thoughts of Morning Dove plagued him. He should have done more to protect her. Should have shot those assholes the moment they crossed the creek and made it clear they knew who she was.
He’d not make the same mistake again. When he got her back, he’d shoot first and ask questions later.
The moon was barely visible when he was forced to stop for the night. He fell out of Wind Chaser’s saddle in a heap and threw up bile and not much else. His limbs shook, and he was dizzy to the point the world was spinning.
He washed his mouth and spit into the dirt, wiping water from his lips with the back of his hand. He stared into the darkness and tried to see through the haze.
The headache that seemed to linger all day was making him nauseous. He didn’t know if the blow to his head was the cause of it or if it was the lack of alcohol. From his calculations, it had been going on four days since he’d sipped even a single drop. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone so long without a drink.
He’d been guzzling whiskey long enough to know what withdrawals felt like, and he picked a fine time to stop drinking. If he wasn’t in such a hurry, he’d find the closest town and drink until his headache was gone, but doing so would only mean he’d be wandering the countryside drunk and that had disaster written all over it.
The grass underneath him was soft as he laid down. He needed sleep. Once he was rested, he’d contemplate Walter’s death. At the moment, he was too weary to even try.
Days of riding were only made bearable by Walter letting her ride Cash instead of being forced to ride with him. Ben’s horse was all she had left of him and Morning Dove tried not to show any affection for him. The moment Walter realized how badly she wanted to keep him, he would get rid of him.
They topped the hill they had been climbing and stopped on the rise. Silver Falls lay nestled in the valley below. She could just make out the waterfall that streamed down the mountain right outside town.
She had loved Silver Falls. The little town reminded her of the village she had lived in before Walter destroyed her family. It was lush and green here and the constant sound of water rushing down the mountain from the waterfall gave her a bit of peace in her otherwise disastrous life.
Silver Falls was a small community with friendly people. Not that she talked to any of them much. Walter did not allow her to venture into town alone and on the rare occasions she did, she did not dally. She picked up whatever it was he sent her for and ran back as quickly as she could. If anyone knew of her situation, they ignored it.
