Noble's Way by Dusty Richards Read Free Book Online Page A

louder. Fleta rested the gun in her lap, then placed her hands over her ears, praying for Noble to come home.
    In the darkness, Noble slipped along the horse line. Ahead of him, Rivers and No-Eyes were moving shadows. He heard a horse snort, and was certain it was not one of his own. When he and the two Indians reached the last pack horse, they crouched in council.
    â€œAre they Indians?” Noble asked.
    â€œWhite men,” No-Eyes said flatly.
    There was no time to question the brave; he was probably right. Rivers had the double action .30 revolver that Noble had carried to Arkansas. Noble reached out and stopped No-Eyes. “Here, take this pistol.” He offered one of his Colts. “Shoot carefully.”
    The Wichita nodded and moved to the right. Rivers went to the left. Noble unbuttoned his coat and felt the night air invade his shirt when he drew out the other single action .36 from his belt.
    Something howled and Noble wondered if it was a wolf or a man. He moved ahead carefully, knowing instinctively that whoever was out there was not friendly. He crept down the ridge, the re-frozen ground crunching under his boot soles. His eyes searched for any movement as he cautiously proceeded. He shrugged off his concern and began to hurry in a bent-over trot.
    A pistol rang out to his right. No-Eyes’ pistol belched more flame and smoke. The fight was on. But where in the hell was the enemy?
    Noble’s question was answered at the sound of boots heels and a figure came running toward him. A glimpse of the hat told Noble this was no Indian. The Colt barked in Noble’s fist. The intruder snapped back a wild shot to the side of Noble. The shooter was close to a dark line of head high bushes when Rivers fired his pistol. The figure halted, obviously hard hit. Noble heard his rifle clatter to the ground.
    No-Eyes joined him and they rushed down the hillside together. Were there others?
    â€œGet to the horses!” someone ordered.
    Noble recognized the voice.
    â€œDamn Injuns got Red!” another voice shouted.
    â€œShut up and ride,” Izer Goodman ordered.
    â€œYou low-life bastard!” Noble swore, crashing through the bushes in pursuit. He realized it was futile when he heard horse hooves pounding off into the night. Regardlessly, Noble emptied his pistol into the inky darkness after them.
    Rivers joined him as he stood in the chest high brambles.
    â€œIzer Goodman,” Noble said in disgust.
    â€œYes,” the Osage said.
    Both men turned to the screams from above them on the hill.
    â€œThe squaws found him,” Rivers said.
    â€œRed Barber,” Noble said to himself. The war cries of the squaws were worse than the wolves’ howls. He pushed back to camp to reload his pistol, not wishing to be a part of Barber’s mutilation.
    The continuing screams of their grisly attack on the outlaw made Noble sick to his stomach. At least Fleta and Luke were safe. As for Izer, he would get that bully bastard. Noble had a big score to settle with Goodman and Dawson.
    Dawn was a pink streak when Noble completed saddling his horse. The stark, naked corpse of Red Barber lay on the blood mottled snow, thirty feet from the picket line. Brutally scalped, his genitals were stuffed in his mouth. Noble turned his back on the nauseating sight. Spotted Horse’s weather forecast was running out. They needed to be back at the fort by dark; the heavy-laden horses were becoming too weary to plow much more snow.
    They rode southwest. Mid-day, Noble spotted the column of smoke rising against the sky. He turned back to Rivers, riding behind him.
    â€œIs that the fort?”
    The Osage peered keenly at the smoke in the flat distance. He nodded, his brown eyes troubled.
    â€œI’m going ahead,” Noble said decisively. “Bring all our horses, but come slowly, for they’re tired.”
    Rivers agreed. Noble pounded the gray with his heels. The great horse responded, but Noble