The Sheriff of Ford's Prairie
by Candy Johnson
Chapter 1
She had been riding hard for the past two weeks as she tried to catch up to Duane Mattox who had viciously **** and beaten one of the girls from the Lucky Ace Saloon in Ford's Prairie, the small town in which she was the sheriff. In the last town she had learned that she was only a few days behind Mattox, so she had pressed on. Now, 250 miles from that last town she could tell her horse was getting tired, as was she, so she found a spot near a stream far enough off the main road to provide a little privacy and made camp for the night. With her horse fed and watered and secured for the night she set about making her dinner after which she settled down by the camp fire. She laid back against her saddle and looked up at the night sky. It was a clear night so the stars twinkled like tiny diamonds against the black night sky. A full moon was just starting to appear over the mountains. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the fresh air, slightly scented with pine, then closed her eyes and snuggled under her blanket. She was just about to drift off to sleep when a sudden clap of thunder brought her to a sitting position. She looked up at the sky and saw that there was not a cloud in it. Suddenly the sky lit up with lightening that seemed to come from nowhere and she looked around. More lightening flashed as another clap of thunder rumbled across the clear night sky. She got to her feet and quickly strapped her holster back on, pulled her sword out of its sheath and followed the lightening up over a small ridge on the other side of the stream. A short way down the other side of the ridge was a small clearing and in the middle of the clearing was a male Immortal receiving a Quickening. She moved as close as she dared and watched from behind a boulder. The Immortal dropped to his knees when the Quickening ended, obviously exhausted. She was about to leave well enough alone when she felt the presence of another Immortal. At that instant another male Immortal came screaming from behind the bushes on the other side of the little clearing where he had been hiding. He held his sword high above his head and it was obvious that he intended to take the head of the other Immortal while he was weakened from the Quickening...a totally underhanded trick. She jumped to her feet and ran down to the clearing where she took up a defensive stance between the charging Immortal and the one struggling to get to his feet.
The charging Immortal moved his sword from over his head to a thrusting position and lunged at the woman between him and his intended target. He would first have to eliminate her before he could eliminate the other Immortal who had just beheaded his teacher. But his lunge was blocked by the female Immortal's blade. The clang of steel against steel echoed through the small ravine that the clearing was in as the battle ensued He slashed wildly at the female Immortal, each move being skilfully blocked. At one point he got too close and his opponent kicked him square in the diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him and sending him staggering backward. He was surprised that he managed to maintain his balance He recovered and swung his sword wildly as he moved closer to his opponent and yelled, “you ****!” Suddenly he felt his sword twist out of his hand as the female Immortal twirled her blade around his a couple of times then thrust her blade upward, dislodging his from his grasp and sending it flying. The move surprised him and he watched his sword sore into the bushes along the side of the clearing and fall out of sight. The next thing he was aware of was a searing pain in his abdomen and he looked down to see the female Immortal's sword buried almost to the hilt in him. He screamed, “you **** ****!” His opponent pulled her sword out of his abdomen and it was then that he decided that he wasn't near good enough to win this battle and avenge his teacher so he staggered away and managed to make it into the thicket of bushes and boulders on the far side of the clearing before succumbing to his injury and dieing behind a boulder as his opponent turned back to the other Immortal who was now standing and leaning on his sword for support.
“Come on. Let's get you out of here before he wakes up and decides he wants to try again,” the female Immortal said and slipped his arm over her shoulders and hurried him out of the clearing and up the small ridge she had come from.
“Thank you,” he said, breathlessly as he scrambled up the small deer path that led to the top of the ridge. “I'm Duncan MacLeod and I owe you one,” he said as they reached the top of the ridge and started down the other side.
“Sheriff Robin Scott at your service,” came the answer. “My camp is down by the stream,” she added, leading the way down the other side of the ridge.
“Did you say sheriff?” Duncan asked, incredulously. This was definitely a first for him.
“That's right,” Robin said as she jumped over a log laying across the narrow deer path. “Sheriff of Ford's Prairie, Washington.” The first thing she did when they reached her camp was to check on her horse. “If your hungry there's some left over rabbit stew in the pot hanging over the fire. Help yourself. There's a plate drying on the rock over there,” she said, pointing to the rock where she had laid out her plate and utensils to dry after washing them in the stream. “And there's coffee in the pot next to the fire. It should still be warm,” she added.
“I’m not really very hungry but the coffee sounds good,” Duncan said and walked over to the fire. He took the cup sitting on a rock next to the pot of coffee and filled it. Taking a seat on the ground with his back against a rock, Duncan sipped at his coffee as he watched the woman who had just saved his life console her horse. “He's beautiful,” he said, admiringly.
“Thank you,” Robin said. “Sid meet Duncan....Duncan this is Obsidian’s Fire....Sid for short,” she said, pulling a couple of sugar cubes out of her shirt pocket and holding them in her open palm while her horse gobbled them up, greedily. “Spoiled,” she said softly to the horse and ruffled the part of his mane that lay over his forehead. The name Obsidian’s Fire fit the Friesian stallion as he was jet black and his mane, tail and the feathers around his hooves were flaming red. As red as Robin's long hair was.
“You don't see many Friesians around these parts,” Duncan said and took another sip of his coffee...his energy beginning to return to his body.
“Most people have to ask me what kind of horse he is,” Robin said as she joined Duncan at the fire. She sat down on her bed roll and lay against her saddle, propping herself up on one elbow. “So did your horse take off when the fireworks started?” She asked, taking a pouch out of the vest pocket of her suede fringed jacket. She opened the pouch and took out a pack of rolling papers and then sprinkled tobacco from the pouch onto a paper. She proceeded to roll a cigarette which she lit using a twig she stuck in the camp fire until the end began to burn. She offered the pouch to MacLeod, who refused it, then put it away...taking a long drag off of the cigarette as she did and blowing smoke rings into the camp fire's smoke.
“Yeah. But he won't have gone far,” Duncan said and took another sip of his coffee as he watched the woman sitting across the camp fire from him, mesmerized.
“So what do you do when you're not pissing off crazy Immortals?” Robin asked, taking a drag off of her cigarette.
“I used to run a newspaper in a small town south of here,” Duncan said, tearing his eyes away from Robin's face and looking up at what was left of the night sky. “Now I'm just traveling around looking for what ever's next,” he added and took a sip of his coffee. Caffeine or no...he suddenly felt physically drained and exhausted and he involuntarily yawned.
Robin tossed him her extra blanket and said, “we've got a few hours before sun up so why don't you try and get some sleep? I know I plan on it.” She unbuckled her holster and lay it within reach and slipped out of her fringed jacket.
That was when Duncan saw the glistening sheriff's star pinned to shirt. He had a million questions he wanted to ask the first lady sheriff he had ever encountered but he was much too tired. Instead he stretched out, using the tattered remnants of his duster as a pillow.
Robin lay back against her saddle and pulled her blanket up to her chin. She looked up at the stars then drifted off to sleep. The warmth of the morning sun on her face woke her up and she yawned and stretched then sat up and looked around. She was alone. MacLeod had already packed up and gone. Hanging from a stub of a broken branch on the makeshift spit over the campfire was a folded piece of paper with her name on it. She removed it and unfolded it.
“Robin - Thank you for your hospitality. Sorry to leave so suddenly but I need to try and find my horse and continue on my journey. Who knows...maybe I'll pay a visit to Ford's Prairie someday. Good hunting and stay safe. Your friend, Duncan MacLeod,” the note read.
“I hope he finds his horse,” Robin said aloud to herself as she refolded the note and stuffed it in her jeans pocket. She proceeded to pack up and clear her campsite, making sure that the campfire held no smoldering embers that could start a wild fire in the dry summer brush. Soon she and Sid were back on the road and attempting to make up the time they had lost.
Six and a half hours later, horse and rider turned onto the road that would take them into Richland, which was the next form of civilization and Robin suspected that Mattox would have stopped there and she hoped that it wasn't too long ago.
“Yeah. He came in to buy some supplies,” said the General Store owner when Robin showed him the wanted poster with the picture of Duane Mattox. “And a map of the area Northwest of Ft. Simcoe,” he added as an after thought.
“Did he say why that particular area?” Robin asked as she gazed longingly at a jar of licorice on a shelf where it was accompanied by several jars filled with other kinds of candy.
The store owner shook his head. :There isn't much between the fort and Lost Horse Plateau,” he said, following Robin's gaze. “The only thing I can think of that would be up there is an old trapper's cabin,” he added as he took the jar off of the shelf and set it on the counter in front of Robin.
“What's beyond that?” Robin asked as the owner removed the lid of the jar and the scent of fresh licorice filled her nostrils.
The store owner fumbled around in a drawer behind the counter and produced a map which he spread out on the remaining portion of the counter. Using the template arm of his spectacles as a pointer, he showed Robin the area he was referring to. “Here's the fort and the cabin would be somewhere around here. I've only been there once and that was a long time ago so I'm not completely positive of its exact location,” he said. “Help yourself, Sheriff. On the house,” he added, referring to the licorice.
Robin took a stick of the black candy out of the jar and thanked him as she studied the map. “How far is the next form of civilization from the cabin if you were to continue in that direction?” She asked, sucking on the stick of licorice, thoughtfully.
“Around 450 miles if you go around the plateau,” the owner said. “About half that if you go over it. But it's pretty rough terrain,” he added. The door of the store opened and the cow bell hanging from the top of the door, jangled. “Excuse me,” the owner said and he went to help the customer who had just walked in.
Robin took out some money and laid it on the counter. She folded up the map and put it in the pocket of her jacket and left the store. She climbed onto her horse and they headed out of town toward Ft. Simcoe. A little after midnight, she made camp and slept until the first rays of light reached over the mountains, then they were on their way again. They made good time and by nightfall they were over halfway to the fort. They made camp by a stream and Sid grazed on the wild grass while Robin ate fish from the stream. By morning both Sid and the sheriff were well rested and they continued on their journey Robin reached the fort by nightfall. She spent the night and bought more supplies when the store opened in the morning.
“I'm looking for this man,” Robin said as she showed the wanted poster to the manager of the fort's store. “I was told that he may have stopped here before moving on. Have you seen him?”
The man behind the counter looked closely at the poster then nodded. “Yes,” he said. “He was in here yesterday afternoon asking directions.”
“Directions to where?” Robin asked. She was relieved to hear that she was less than a day behind Mattox.
“He asked about a trapper's cabin a half days ride from here,” the man replied.
“Thank you,” Robin said with a grateful smile. “I need to purchase some ammo,” she added and told the man what she needed.
After purchasing extra ammunition for both her revolver and her Winchester rifle, Robin left the store. As she was climbing onto her horse the store manager walked out onto the boardwalk and said, “we have a scout here that knows these mountains better than the natives and I'm sure that Captain Howell would loan him to you.”
Robin took the reins in one hand and smiled down at the man. “Thanks, but that won't be necessary. Just point me in the direction of that cabin,” she said.
“Head North and you'll come to a dry creek bed. On the other side the road splits in two and narrows. Take the road to the right and it'll take you right to it,” the man said.
Robin thanked him, tapped the brim of her hat and rode out of the fort. Once outside the gate she tapped her heels against Sid's sides and he broke into a gallop. They reached the dry creek bed as the sky was turning from blue to shades of purple and red as the sun began to disappear behind the mountains. After an hour's ride, Robin reined Sid off of the rarely used narrow road. The moonlight lit their way as they climbed to a higher altitude. As soon as they reached a level spot that was shielded on all sides by large boulders and trees, Robin dismounted and took a spy glass out of one of her saddlebags. She found a good spot to view the slope back down to the rode. She slowly scanned the tree tops with her spy glass until she saw faint wisps of smoke rising up through the trees. The forest was too thick to see what was producing the smoke but the way the plumes of smoke seemed to stay in a concentrated pattern told Robin that it was coming from a chimney and not an open fire. She led Sid back down the slope a ways to a vantage point where she could easily keep an eye on the cabin without being heard or seen herself.
The cabin was small...probably one room....with only a front door and a couple of windows which were bathed in the soft yellow glow of the fireplace and lanterns. As far as she could tell there was just one person inside the cabin. The cabin was practically backed up against the slope but there was a small broken down lean-to and there was one unsaddled horse tied under the structure. Robin used her spy glass and the almost full moon to get a look at the horse's left hip and saw it carried the brand of the Lazy M Ranch where Mattox had been employed. She grabbed her, stuffed the extra ammo she had purchased at the fort into the pockets of her fringed jacket and took a set of iron handcuffs out of her saddlebag and attached them to her belt then found a comfortable spot to perch and she chewed on a hunk of venison jerky as she watched the cabin and waited for the dawn.
It was a couple of hours before sunrise when Robin noticed that the yellow glow had disappeared from the cabin's windows and they were dark. There was also no more smoke coming from the cabin's chimney so she figured that Mattox had finally gone to bed. When the sky began to turn from the night's blackness to shades of yellow, purple and blue...but before the sun actually crested the mountain tops...she cocked her rifle, placing a shell in the chamber and made her way, silently down the slope to a clump of boulders about 20 yards from the cabin. She hid behind the shelter of the boulders until she was positive that there was no one outside of the cabin or watching her from the inside then, staying low and in the shadows, she crept to the side of the cabin and stood with her back against the wall. She stood there listening for any sound coming from inside the cabin. The only sound was the chattering of a couple of squirrels, the warblings of a few morning birds and the soft whisper of a breeze rustling the leaves and pine needles of the trees.
The first rays of sunlight were now reaching over the tops of the eastern mountains. With the skill of stealth she had learned during the time that she had lived among the local Lakota Sioux, Robin moved to the nearest window and peeked through it. The inside of the cabin was dark except for a small stream of light coming through the curtain-less window at the back of the cabin The cabin had, in fact, only one large room. The only furniture was a table and a couple of old wooden chairs, a cupboard with some dishes and an old military cot in the corner near the fireplace made out of river rock. A cast iron kettle hung from a hook in the center of the fireplace...a ladle sticking out of the kettle indicating that Mattox' dinner left overs were probably still in the kettle. There were several empty whiskey bottles strewn around the room and a couple of blobs of wax...the remnants of melted candles...sat in the center of the table. After surveying the cabin interior through the window, Robin looked back at the cot and it was obvious that someone was sleeping on it.
Robin moved silently to the door of the cabin and slowly turned the nob. Because it was old and a bit rusty, it took a little effort to turn it without making any noise, but Robin managed and she cautiously opened the door and stepped into the cabin. Without any hesitation she quietly moved over to the cot and put her boot on the edge of the bed. She gave it a quick shove and over it went...spilling its inhabitant onto the floor with a loud thump. She stepped over the cot that was now on its side and placed the barrel of her rifle against Matt ox’s forehead just as he was starting to sit up.
“Duane Mattox, you are under arrest for the charge of ****, assault and battery and assault with intent to kill,” Robin said in her most authoritative voice.
“What?” Mattox said looking up at Robin with a dazed and confused look on his face. He moved like he was going to try and get up again and Robin pressed the barrel of her rifle harder against his forehead.
“Don't even think about it, Mattox,” Robin said, threateningly. “You even breathe wrong and I'll pull the trigger and this rifle will blow your head into next week.”
“Are you talking about that ****?” Mattox asked, incredulously. “How do you **** a ****?” He asked.
Robin placed her boot squarely in Matt ox’s crotch and he inhaled quickly and held his breath. “I suggest you mind your tongue. I'm tired, hungry, in need of a bath and easily pissed off. So if you want to see your day in court...”
“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” Mattox asked.
“You ran. Innocent people don't run,” Robin said and removed the handcuffs from her belt. “Slowly roll over onto your stomach and place your arms out straight like you're flying,” she said. As Mattox, reluctantly, complied, Robin set her rifle down and leaned it against the tipped over cot and took her revolver out of its holster. She cocked the hammer back so Mattox would know that she was serious. When he was on his stomach she placed her knee in the middle of his lower back and put her weight into it then put one of the cuffs on his right wrist and locked it. She pulled his arm around behind him and stuck it under her knee. Then she grabbed his left arm and yanked it behind him and cuffed it, locking the cuff to the one on his right wrist. “Now get up. Slowly. Don't try anything stupid,” she said, moving off of him and pulling him up, using the handcuffs' chain.
“Do you really believe that you are going to take me back to Ford's Prairie all by yourself?” Mattox asked, slyly, as his mind raced with plans of escape.
Robin holstered her revolver and picked up her rifle. With the muzzle against Matt ox’s back she shoved him forward and out of the cabin. “You, obviously have your doubts,” she said with a little chuckle. “Care to make a bet on it?” She said, tauntingly, then she let out a shrill whistle and a few seconds later Sid trotted into view and over to Robin. She patted the horse's neck and took the rope that was coiled and laced to her saddle and tied one end, securely, to the chain between the handcuffs. Then she wrapped it around Matt ox’s waist and tied another knot in front of him. The other end of the rope she tied to her saddle horn.
“My horse is around back,” Mattox said.
“It's actually the Lazy M's horse. If they want it they can come and get it,” Robin said as she climbed into Sid's saddle.
“Are we both going to ride your horse all the way back to Ford's Prairie?” Mattox asked. “He might not make it with the extra weight,” he added.
“Who said anything about you riding?” Robin said as she let out enough length of rope so that Mattox could trail behind Sid without getting kicked.
“You're going to make me walk all that way?” Mattox asked, incredulously. “That's inhumane,” he protested.
“What you did to Janice was inhumane, so I won't be losing any sleep about making you hoof it all the way back home,” Robin sneered, angrily. She nudged Sid with her heels and they were on their way back to Ford's Prairie.
To be continued