The Diary of Jerrod Bently by J.W. Osborn (large ebook reader TXT) 📕

to draw the old man into a fight more than once. As I knew he always would, the old man walked away, not hearing the jibes and ugly words Vickers had to say about Indians. I warned him more than once to mind his tongue, and he only listened because it was either follow my orders or get out. He backed down and slunk away. I did not like any thing about this man. He was trouble. I noticed Sam watching me, and the smile on her face as she turned away to cinch her saddle on told me that she approved of how I handled him. He was like any bully on the docks back in New York. Usually when faced down they ran scared, and I was sure that was how Vickers would react if I had to show him in a more forceful way that he had to follow orders.
Those sidewinders turned out to be two drovers who weren’t worth a hoot. They were lazy and sneaky. I did not trust either of them and I told Sam that she needed to fire them. She listened just about as well as I expected she would. The day the accident that nearly took her life happened, I was glad that I followed Dalton, for had I not taken that bend in the trail on my way out to help Floyd and Ely round up stragglers, I would have lost her forever.

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Sam heard someone behind her as she stood dismounted near a brook, letting Trouble drink. She was on her way in from searching out the best way to cross a river that lay some distance ahead of us. Sam had that way about her, just like Scrub Pot, hearing somebody before they even came into sight. She did not recognize the horse’s rhythm and instinctively her hand sought the bone handle of her knife. She was about to get back on her horse when Tom Dalton rode up. He paused, looking around himself , hearing the rush of the water as it spilled over a ledge about twenty five feet away. “Mornin’, Miss Sam,” he said “Is Bently around?”
Sam swung into her saddle. “What do you want, Dalton?,” she demanded, sensing that something was not right. Dalton slid off his horse, let it go and then caught Trouble by his bridle. The stud immediately backed up and tried to rear. “Don’t be in such a hurry,” Dalton said smoothly “I just want to talk.”
“Make it fast,” Sam replied as she tried to calm her nervous horse “I have work to do. And you can let go of my horse. Now.”
Dalton moved closer to the stud. “He’s a right fine horse,” he said. Trouble rumbled a warning to stand back. “Ain’t too friendly is he.”, he added.. Then, he quickly drew back and punched the sorrel in the side of his neck and sent him rearing up high into the air. Sam went off, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Terrified, her horse ran off into the trees. “You snake!,” she hissed as she picked herself up from the ground, her hand on the knife. She stopped for a moment, waiting for Dalton to get close enough to strike if she had to. “I been watching you, boss lady,” he said, his eyes glinting with lust and over consumption of whisky. “I think you need a man.” She glared at him, frozen there, close to where the brook rushed over the edge of a thirty foot precipice. He rushed her, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her to the ground , just as I rode into the clearing. Sam was trying to pull her knife, but nothing was going to stop Dalton. All I saw was that low life trying force her to the ground. I don’t think Dalton realized I was there until he heard the unmistakable sound of a .45 being cocked behind him. It broke his attack long enough for Sam to get away, staggering to her feet. Dalton looked at me for a second , kind of dazed and then went after her again. I lost my mind when I saw her torn clothing and understood fully what Dalton intended to do. He paused, turning toward me and then drew his gun. I heard Sam shout, “Jerrod!!” I pulled the trigger . I saw the surprised look of shock on Dalton’s face as he flew backwards with the force of the bullet.
He was still holding his gun in his hand. I saw him crumple to the ground, clutching at his mid section. I looked over at Sam. She was in shock. Then it all seemed to go into slow motion as I jumped off my horse made a lunge toward her as she staggered backward , trying to stay on her feet. I heard the stones under her boots slip, felt her fingertips brush mine and heard her scream and she fell backward over the rocky ledge behind her. I did not have time to think, just pray as I went after her. her. Scrambling down the wet rocks, I called her name. Sam had landed on a shelf like outcropping of rock, covered with brush and it looked like that might have broken her fall. I looked up at the rim above us and began shouting for help over the sound of the rushing water. I tore off my denim jacket and put in over her. “Please Sam,” I begged “You can’t leave me like this. Sam!” I shouted “Samantha Dodge!” I saw her eyes flutter open and she looked up into my face. At least she was still alive. The suddenly there was Scrub Pot and Ely Jax on the rim of that water fall above us. “We heard gun shots.,” Scrub Pot shouted down to me. “What about Sam?”
“She’s alive,” I shouted back. ‘We got to get her out of here.” Scrub Pot stumbled and skidded down the incline , as Ely went back to camp for help. “He was an evil man, Jerrod,” the old man said said “I knew it when I looked into his eyes.” Then, he was at Sam’s side , speaking to her in the Blackfoot language. I saw her eyes open again, to look up at her Grandfather. She was dazed and not comprehending what had happened. “Jerrod?” It was her voice.
“I am here Sam,” I said, fighting tears. “We are going to get you out of here.”
“My horse.,” she whispered. “Find him.” A worried smile crossed Scrub Pot’s face as he carefully checked for broken bones fearing he would find many. “He is fine, Sam.”, he said “We will get him for you.” Her eyes closed again and she was gone. “If she is worried about that stud of her’s she is still in this world with us,” he said as he turned to me. “We have to be very careful moving her. As far as I can tell, her left arm is broken in two places, and I think her ankle is broken too, but before we move her, we have to stop the bleeding from that gash on her head.”
I knew that a head wound always bled profusely and often looked far worse than the injury really was. I prayed for that to be the case as I pressed the sleeve of my jacket against the bloody wound that ran back into her hairline. Nothing mattered but getting her to safety, not cattle, not men, not the law and not the fact that I had just killed the man who would have raped and murdered her if I had not come along when I had. It seemed like it took hours for help to arrive, when in truth it had only been about twenty minutes. I stood by watching as Scrub Pot stitched up the wound in her head. I winced every time he moved the needle, but the bleeding had finally stopped. “She can not feel it,” he said as though he was reading my mind. I wanted to believe him. It took four men, myself and Scrub Pot to get Sam safely up the sharp incline and back to camp. We were in the middle of nowhere, with no hope of finding a doctor . Floyd Jax stood close to the back of the chuck wagon. He held his hat in his hands. “I knowed that Dalton was bad. I’m glad you killed him Jerrod,” he said, his eyes filling with tears.”She ain’t dying is she?”
Scrub Pot appeared at the back of the wagon. “She is alive,” he said “ but I need all of you to pray for her. She is hurt pretty bad..”
There was not a man who waited that did not go to his knees or bow his head.
The old man stepped out of the wagon and drew me aside. “There a decisions to be made Jerrod. Bently,” he said firmly “We will remain here , let the cattle graze. It is not worth my grand daughter’s life to push on like we have been. You will be in charge now.”
“But...”, I started to say “I don’t..”
“Faith, Jerrod Bently,” he said “You will be fine. First off, send some one back to Portersville. We need Doc here as quick as he can come.
“I better find Vickers, and tell him what happened,” I said quietly. “Better he hears it from me.”
I felt the old man’s hand on my shoulder, “I will find him myself,” he said. “You stay with Sam.”
Before I could protest, Scrub Pot was gone. I heard him ride away a few minutes later. I climbed back into the wagon and sat down next to Sam’s bunk. She was hurt very badly, and had been unconscious since we got her back to camp. I reached down and took her hand. “You probably can’t