Crazy Woman Creek by Virginia Welch Read Free Book Online Page A

for the first time in her married life, Lenora, not James held the Sharps in defense of their ranch. The sobering significance of this act did not escape her, but this was no time to indulge in self-pity.
    Lenora acted quickly. She could tell by the change in his bark that Ulysses had run to the rear of the house. She moved to the bedroom where, from the tiny window, she could see not one but a group of men on horseback approaching from the East. She lifted the long arm into position and cocked the trigger, never taking her eyes off the riders.
    She watched, heart thumping like a drum, every muscle taut with anxiety, finger on the trigger, as Ulysses suddenly stopped his frantic barking and bounded out of the yard toward the horsemen, who by now were only a few hundred feet away. But Ulysses’ chain stopped his escape abruptly. After a few minutes Lenora watched as one of the riders halted his horse, dismounted, and bent down to greet her dog. The tall man scratched Ulysses behind his ears, rubbed his head, and then reached into his pocket and pulled something out, evidently a treat, because Ulysses began to exhibit all the familiar signs of a tail-wagging sentry just waiting to be bribed.
    Then Lenora saw the riderless horse following the mounted riders, and as slowly and silently as the dawn rises in the eastern sky, so was the dawning of truth in her mind. She realized who the tall man was, and more important, what that riderless horse meant.
    God oh God, let it not be so.
    She stared, transfixed with terror, as the tall man remounted his horse and joined the rest of them as they made their way to her front yard. Finally she saw them round the corner of the house. She unhooked her finger from the trigger and eased the Sharps down to her hips.
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    Lenora did not wait for them to knock. She stepped into the doorway, Sharps still in hand, though she had the presence of mind to remove her apron, check for any stray bits of biscuit dough on her shirtwaister, and smooth her hair. A lady does not greet visitors with an apron on, even when her missing husband’s horse returns home without him.
    “Good afternoon, Mrs. Rose,” said Sheriff Morris, tipping his hat and dismounting from his horse. The others tipped their hats as well, but only Luke dismounted with the sheriff. Once Luke’s feet were on the ground, Ulysses walked up next to him and parked on his haunches, panting and slobbering, hoping to be thrown another dainty by the treat man.
    Lenora recognized the two men still on horseback. The elder was a local rancher she knew from church. The younger was the son of a neighboring rancher. She tried to be polite and return their greetings, but when she opened her mouth no words came out. Her breaths came in short, shallow puffs; she felt like she would faint. She reached for the door frame to steady herself. The air was fraught with the tension of the unspoken.
    “We found this horse tied up by the North-East Creek,” Sheriff Morris said, motioning toward Beauty and meeting Lenora’s eyes. “We think it’s Mr. Rose’s. We found no sign of the owner.”
    “It’s James’,” said Lenora, still gripping the door frame for support. 
    “We searched the area where we found her,” Luke said. “She was tied a few feet from the creek. It looks as though Mr. Rose stopped there for water.”
      “And you didn’t find any sign of him?” asked Lenora. Hearing her husband’s name helped her come back to the moment. She took a few steps toward Beauty, pressed her face against the animal's head, and closed her eyes while she lovingly ran her hand down its smooth coat. The pungent smells of horse sweat and saddle leather sharpened her memory of Beauty’s missing owner. Where was James? What happened to him?
    “No ma’am. None of his clothing, no hat, no shoes. No tracks either. Saturday night’s rain washed away any tracks,” said Luke.
    Lenora stopped nuzzling Beauty and stepped away to face the lawmen. “Surely he