The Long Trail (The McCabes Book 1) by Brad Dennison (books that read to you .txt) 📕

which was drifting low above the ridge line to the west, and could see a group of riders. Six, maybe seven.

Josh walked toward Pa.

“It can’t be the raiders. There aren’t enough of them,” Josh said.

“I think you’re right,” Pa said. “The horses move like they’ve been ridden a lot of miles. Raiders would want to use fresh mounts.”

Josh hated to admit he had not noticed this, but now that Pa had mentioned it, he saw that each horse indeed held its head down a little as it stepped, and the riders were keeping their horses to a slow trot. Even so, Josh loosened the pistol in his holster.

As the riders pulled to within two hundred yards, Josh still couldn’t make out their faces because the sun was drifting low and their faces lost in deep shadows. But he knew the two riders at the head of the group by the way they carried themselves in the saddle. One had wide shoulders that sloped a little as though the rider were always tired, and he moved with a slow deliberation that belied the quickness he could command with a gun or a fist. Zack Johnson. And the man who sat beside him, with a narrow build but who rode a horse like he had been born to it, was Fred Mitchum.

The riders reigned up before Johnny and Josh.

“You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?” Johnny asked Zack through a wide grin.

With one hand Zack pushed back his hat back, taking the shadow of the wide brim away from eyes that always seemed to dance with mirth, and the scar a Kiowa knife had made on his left cheekbone.

“I heard an old friend of mine was in trouble,” Zack said, flashing a smile that was always quick to surface. “He’s a no-good son-of-a-bitch, but I thought I’d see if we could lend a hand anyway.”

Fred said, “Aunt Ginny sent me to ride on down the stretch and bring in some reinforcements.”

“Thank you, Fred,” Aunt Ginny said from the porch.

Johnny glanced over his shoulder toward her; he hadn’t heard her step out from the house. “You could have told me where he was.”

“You never asked me,” she said with a smug smile. “And you never would have agreed to it, because you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”

Johnny gave her a long look, smiling with his eyes, then turned back to the riders. “Zack, what about your place?”

Zack shrugged. “Well, I owe you my life a few times over.”

Johnny nodded. “That goes both ways.”

“And I figure,” Zack said, as he swung out of the saddle, “you got more here to offer any raiders than I do, and more to lose. I got no family. It’s just me, the small crew that works for me, and my few hundred head of cattle. It wouldn’t take me as long to rebuild.”

Johnny clasped a hand to his old friend’s shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

“Aunt Ginny,” Zack called out to her. “I hope you cooked enough for all of us. We been ridin’ all afternoon, and Fred, here, has been in the saddle all day. We’re each of us hungry as a b’ar.”

“I’ve prepared a huge pot of stew for you all. Come on in.”

“Josh and I’ll take care of the horses,” Johnny said. “You boys go on in.”

“No, Pa,” Josh said. “You’ve been in the saddle all day, too. Go on in. I can take care of the horses.”

Johnny clasped a hand to his son’s shoulder, as he had just with Zack, and turned to follow the others to the house.

Josh untied Thunder and led the stallion along with the other mounts to the stable. He led each horse into a stall, where he tied a rein to an iron ring imbedded in a wall, and began to strip off the saddles. Thunder was antsy. As tired as the stallion was, he didn’t like walls and wanted to be outdoors as soon as possible.

“Easy, big fella,” Josh said.

“More riders comin’!” came a call from outside.

This time, Josh felt alarm. Who else would be coming? He drew his pistol, quickly checked the loads, and then ran outside.

Pa and Zack were standing on the porch. Zack’s foreman, Ramon, who had ridden with them, stepped out of the house with a Winchester ready in his hands. Zack gripped a revolver in his right hand. Pa’s pistols were still holstered, but they were never far from his hands.

Long shadows now stretched across the valley floor. The motion of something approaching, and the faint drum of shod hooves on sod, were the only indications something was out there.

“I only see two,” Zack said.

Johnny shook his head. “You’re eyes are better’n mine. I can’t make out one from the other.”

“Must be age catching up with you.”

Johnny shot a glance to Zack, whose smile was back. The old joke still persisted. Zack was younger than Johnny, though by only a year and some odd months, and was forever reminding him of it.

Josh could see there were only two, also, as the riders drew nearer. “I wonder who it could be?” he called back to the porch.

Johnny looked to Zack. “More of your riders?”

“Shouldn’t be,” he replied. “I left a skeleton crew to watch the herd, and told them not to follow. I don’t want to ride back and find my cows wandering all over the countryside.”

The riders approached the buildings, keeping their horses to a shambling trot, and reined up before the porch. One wore a heavy beard, his eyes hidden under a dark hat.

“Hunter,” Johnny said. “It’s starting to look like old home week around here.”

“I couldn’t let you boys have all the fun for yourself.”

Beside him was a rider whose hat was suspended at his shoulder blades from a rawhide chinstrap, and he wore a faded blue shirt.

“Dusty,” Johnny said. “I thought Josh told you to ride on.”

Josh said, “I did, Pa. I guess I didn’t tell him good enough.”

Dusty swung from the horse’s back, and stood to face Josh.