That was enough. I turned Ol’ Paint and headed east, resolute, my search for Allie Summer finished—unless I happened to run across her on my way out of those mountains. I had tried, I despised the thought of leaving, but I had a life, too, and Allie probably didn’t any more. And my life now centered on Clearwater Valley and the town of River Bend. The place I now hoped to live for the rest of my life. If I don’t dilly-dally, I should be able to get to River Bend in two or three days…I actually smiled. McConnell said they think I’m dead. Boy, are they going to be surprised. I made a wry face. I hope it’s a pleasant surprise…
In my mind’s eye, I saw Kelly Atkins. I smiled again. Beautiful, warm, feisty Kelly. I hope she’ll have me…well, she may have gotten tired of waiting for you, Conners, and found somebody else. I couldn’t blame her, not in the least. What am I going to do if she has? That thought made me frown and panged me inside. It also solidified my determination to get to River Bend as quickly as possible. Could I stay in Clearwater Valley if Kelly were married to somebody else? I doubted it. I’ll just have to hope she hasn’t found another man while I was wasting my life roaming the hills for the last several months. I wish I had sent her that letter, but I lost it somewhere….I sighed. Conners, you are a first class idiot….
Julie…Robin…a panic begin to rise in me again. What if Tolliver gets to Kelly before I do? I knew I loved her. And I wondered again how I could live…if I lost her, too…
Julie…Robin…Kelly…oh, dear Lord, please don’t let anything happen to her…Now, after Robin, I felt I had something to live for again, that I had my life back. Could I stand it if I lost it again? To have had such a wonderful life with Julie. To die when she did…to live again with Robin…to die again when she left me…and now, there was Kelly…To live one more time…How many times can a man be resurrected from death? Reader, believe me, I couldn’t get to River Bend fast enough. I gigged Ol’ Paint a little and he sped up.
Then, something interrupted these ruminations and attracted my attention from the corner of my eye. I turned and looked.
A horse. Standing about 100 feet away, staring at me.
And I knew that horse. I never forget a horse’s face.
“Ranger,” I said. It was Allie’s horse. He nickered at his name. Horses have pretty good memories, too, at least when it comes to people and other horses. Ol’ Paint remembered Ranger and nickered, too. “Come here, boy,” I said to Ranger, holding out my hand to him. But he shook his head.
“Where’s Allie?” I asked him. And he turned away and walked a few feet, and then, just like a dog, he stopped and looked back at me.
Ol’ Paint understood, a second before I did, what Ranger wanted, and he was already turning to follow before I had chance to urge him to do so. Ranger wound through the trees, glancing back occasionally to make sure we were still trailing him. I didn’t know if he was leading us on a whimsical fantasy or not, but I was going to stay on his tail until I found out for sure.
We came to the clearing and the cave. Ranger didn’t stop but continued on into the woods that I had searched once before—my last search before making my decision to return to River Bend. If that horse was leading me to Allie—and if she was alive—I thought it might be a good idea to announce my presence again.
“Allie! Can you hear me! It’s Rob….”
Yes, Allie heard his voice again. It took her a moment to rejoin the real world as her mind had taken her elsewhere—almost to oblivion. But Rob’s voice revived her and renewed her will. She rolled over and tried to pull herself along the grass, crying out Rob’s name as loudly as her broken voice would allow. But again, her voice couldn’t carry beyond 50 feet. She collapsed again, whispering Rob’s name….”Please, Rob…please don’t leave me this time…please…oh, dear God, please let him find me…I want to live…”
Ranger led us to the edge of a hill. He stopped and looked at me and this time, he allowed me to ride right up to him. He pawed the ground and shook his head, whinnying…
Allie heard that, too. “Ran…Ranger…” She lifted her head…
And I saw that movement. “Allie!” I shouted, and jumped off my horse and was down that hill to her in 10 seconds.
“Allie!” I said. “Are you all right?” That was a stupid question, because I could see good and well that she wasn’t all right. In fact, it was almost impossible to recognize her. Her clothes were torn, her hair was a bloody mess, her face, hands, and arms were scratched. She was…well, obviously very dehydrated.
But she opened her eyes, and even though I already knew it was her…the eyes of Allie Summer gave her away.
“Wa…water…” she managed.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, as it was obvious from her cracked lips and swollen tongue what her immediate need was.
So up the hill I went. It was a lot harder going up than coming down, folks. But I got to the top in about three minutes, grabbed my canteen, and was back down to Allie less than 20 seconds later.
“Here you go,” I said to her, holding her head up. “Not too much, now.”
Most of the initial attempt went down her shirt, but she got some into her mouth and down her throat. She hacked and coughed, of course, as some of it went into her lungs, but she grabbed the canteen with both hands and held it to her lips, trying to guzzle the water.
“Hold it,” I said, taking the canteen away from her. “A little at a time.”
She nodded. She knew. Too much water at once could be more harmful than good. But the little she had gotten into her was already doing her good. “Th-thank you,” she managed, her voice a little stronger.
“Thank your horse,” I said. “I never would have found you without him.”
“Water,” Allie said, reaching for the canteen again. And slowly, over the next several minutes, we poured half a canteen full of water into her.
It’s amazing how a little water can revive a person whose major illness is dehydration. It doesn’t take long for water to makes its way into a dehydrated system, and within 15 minutes, except for her injuries, Allie was almost back to normal. She was still weak, of course, and she needed some food. But her voice was stronger, her mind was clear, and she looked 1,000 times better than when I had initially seen her.
“The first thing we’ve got to do,” I said, “is get you off this hill. There’s a cave about a mile west of here. We can stay there until you are ready to travel.”
“Yes,” Allie said. “I know where that cave is. I stayed there for a few days.”
“Well, let’s get you there and you can tell me what you were doing almost dead on the side of this hill. Can you walk?”
“Help me up,” she said. “My left ankle is sprained, I think, so I can’t put any weight on it. But if you help me, maybe I can.”
I helped her to her feet and she wobbled and grabbed me. This wasn’t going to be easy. “I’ve got a better idea,” I said, and I leaned down and hoisted her over my shoulder. She grunted at that, but didn’t object. I had to take it easy going up the hill. Allie wasn’t light, by any means, so I had to watch my step and make sure I didn’t lose my balance. I took it slow, but within 15 minutes we were at the top of the hill. I gently set her down on the ground.
She gave me a wry smile. “I don’t especially like traveling that way, but thanks. I’m not sure I could have made it walking, even with your help.”
“It was the easiest way.” The two horses had come over and Ranger nuzzled his owner. Allie threw her arms around the horse’s neck and…wept. That beast had saved her life. But I knew the feeling. Ol’ Paint had pulled my bacon out of the fire a few times, too.
After the joyful, tearful reunion, I helped Allie onto Ranger’s back. “You’ll have to ride bareback,” I said. “But it’s only a mile.”
She smiled. “I’m half-Indian, remember. I grew up riding bareback.” She lay forward and wrapped both her arms around Ranger’s neck.
The thought went through my head that it was pretty un-gentlemanly of me not to offer to let her ride on Ol’ Paint so she could have the saddle, but it was too late, and I doubt I could have pulled her away from Ranger anyway. I simply nodded, mounted Ol’ Paint, and said, “Let’s get to the cave. I’ll get some more water and fix us some food, and we’ll get you doctored. That’s a nasty looking bump on the back of your head, woman.”
“Yeah. I haven’t seen it, but it sure hurts. I found something harder than my head, if you can believe that.”
I chuckled. “That is a little hard to believe. But you can tell me all about, though I think I know the main story line. Trent Tolliver.”
She looked at me. “Yes.” Then, in agony, she sat up and said, “Rob, he killed Kelly Atkins.” Then she recalled, “He told me he killed you, too.”
“No, and he thought so, but he didn’t.”
“Huh?”
“He didn’t kill Kelly. He thought he did, but he didn’t. He thought he killed me, too, and everybody in River Bend thinks I’m dead. So, since he thinks I’m dead, then for the time being, he’s not after me.”
“So he didn’t get Kelly after all,” Allie said. “Well, that’s a relief. What happened?”
So I explained to her what Captain McConnell had told me. “I’ve met Kelly Kramer,” I told her, “and she does bear an uncanny resemblance to Kelly Atkins.” I shrugged. “A case of mistaken identity. The same with me. I got bushwhacked on the road to River Bend. The fellow stole my wallet—and a card that had my name on it. I guess he went around pretending he was me.”
“And he ran into Trent Tolliver,” Allie said.
“Yeah. Tolliver nailed him, thinking the poor sucker was me. Tolliver even left the body on the side of the road with a wooden grave marker, telling the world he had killed Rob Conners. Somebody from River Bend saw it, took it, and the body, into town, and everybody thought I had gone to whatever eternal fate awaits me. I guess the body was unidentifiable, which would happen, if left out in the open for a day or so. Animals would get it.”
“Yes, they would,” Allie replied. Then, “how do you know all of this, if you haven’t been to River Bend yet?”
I gave her a wry grin. “I’ll give you one guess who I ran into in Wickerville. Somebody who had been through River Bend, gotten all the dope on what happened, and…is the reason I came searching for you.”
Allie sighed. “McConnell.”
“He was worried about you, Allie. You were gone too long, and when he found out what the Tollivers did—or tried to do—to Kelly and me…well, he added up the score pretty rapidly.”
Allie looked at me and I could see some tears in those eyes of ice. “And you came looking for me…again.”
“You would have done the same for me.”
“But, Rob, what if Tolliver has found out that he didn’t really kill Kelly Atkins? And that this other Kelly is still alive?”
“He’ll go after them, of course. Kelly Atkins has got to die, because she killed one of Trent’s brothers—just like you and I have to die. Kelly Kramer has to die because she can identify him.”
“We need to get to River Bend, Rob. Ben’s good, but, alone, he’s no match for the Tolliver gang.” Then she cursed under her breath. “How many times did I ask McConnell to let me go after them?”
“He will now, Allie, I promise you. Only,” and here my jaw set and my blood started boiling, “if Tolliver has already been back to River Bend and killed those two Kellys…” I looked at the Lady Ranger. “You’ll have an awful hard time finding him before I do.”
As the reader will recall, Allie’s Cave—as I dubbed it—was plenty big enough for two people and two horses. The Tolliver gang hadn’t bothered removing the Ranger’s belongings, so they were all still there. Rats and other vermin had gotten into her food supply, however. But her blanket, saddle, clothes, etc. were right where she had left them, as well as a nice stack of firewood. Allie sat down next to her saddlebags while I took care of the horses in the back of the cavern.
When I came back to her, I said, “Ok, first order of business is to get some more water. There’s a stream—“
“No,” she interrupted, “the first order of business is I want a bath.”
Why was I not surprised?
I couldn’t help but grin. “Ok. I’ll help you down to the creek. I’ve got some soap if you need it.”
But Allie was already going through her belongings. “I’ve got everything I need,” she told me. Then she looked up at me, that defiant Allie Summer expression on her face. I smiled again. I knew she was all right now. “And I can make it on my own,” she finished.
I gave her an inviting wave out of the cave and said, “I’ll build a fire and get some coffee and vittles going. I’ve got some potatoes and bacon. We’ll have some stew.”
“Good, I’m hungry.” With a little bit of effort—no, with a lot of effort—Allie struggled to her feet. She almost fell and had to lean against the wall with all her weight on her right side. Then, carrying her clothes, a towel, and some soap, she limped off towards the stream.
“Be careful with the back of your head,” I told her. “I’ll need to doctor that when you get back. And if you see anything threatening—beast or man—you holler.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, through gritted teeth. I could tell she was hurting, but I could also tell she wanted to do this by herself. Allie had a lot of pride, of course; indeed, she had too much. But, that’s part of what made her Allie Summer and the best Ranger in McConnell’s force.
As she limped pitifully towards the stream, I got up and watched her—just to make sure. She stopped once, about halfway; I could see her trembling, and I’ll bet she was sweating—the day was hot. But she kept going and made it to the edge of the stream. She sat down on a rock and slowly started undressing. That’s when I quit watching. If she needed me, she had enough vocal strength now that I could hear her.
I made the coffee and soup. Allie took her time, but I checked on her anyway. About every 10 minutes, I went to the cave mouth and yelled, “Allie, are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Keep your eyes to yourself, Conners.” I think I detected a little playfulness in her voice.
I laughed. Allie was almost back to her old self. I yelled back. “I’m just admiring this cockroach over here. Prettiest thing I’ve seen all day.”
“Oh, shut up.” And I laughed again.
She was gone a little over half an hour. When she hobbled back into the cave, she looked like a different person—she was the startlingly beautiful Allie Summer that I remembered. Her hair was wet and she had a sheen of sweat on her forehead. And she was hurting, that I could tell. When she sat down against the wall, she let out a loud sigh of relief and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then she opened them and looked at me. “I had to try that, Rob, you understand that, don’t you?”
I smiled, nodded, and handed her a cup of coffee.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m not terribly thirsty at the moment. I think I drank half that creek out there.” But she sipped on the coffee anyway and then took the plate of stew that I handed her. She tried to be a dainty female as she ate, but she was ravenously hungry and veritably inhaled her food. And then a second plate. When she finished that, she leaned back against the wall, but forgot the wound on her head and cried out, “Ouch.” She made a face.
“Let me look at that,” I said, moving towards her.
“It’s ok,” she said, waving me away.
“Let me…look at it…Allie,” I said, very deliberately, and in a voice that would brook no disagreement.
She glanced at me, started to say something, but simply nodded her head. She could be bull-headed, of course, but she was far from stupid.
I parted her hair. She hadn’t quite got the wound completely clean, and I was worried a little that infection had set in. “I’m going to have to operate,” I told her. “Pull your brains out through your nose…”
She grunted. “Probably all you’re good for. How does it look?”
“Does it hurt?”
She thought on that a second. “Not…too much.”
“It needs a little more cleaning,” I said. “And I’ve got some anti-infection ointment, and then some clean bandages to cover it with.”
“What are you, a mobile hospital?”
“I look after myself,” I responded.
I worked on her for several minutes, getting a few curses from Allie but other than that, she didn’t protest. She knew I needed to do what I was doing, so she let me do it. And let me know that she knew I was doing it.
The only way to effectively bandage the wound was to wrap the cloth fully around her head. She didn’t like that at all, but I was getting tired of her grumpiness and told her to be quiet. She actually did it.
When I finished, she exhaled. “Rob,” she said.
I just looked at her.
“Thank you. I mean that. From the bottom of my heart.” And she lowered her head because I don’t think she wanted me to see the tears in her eyes. Strange woman. Hard as nails one minute. Tender as a puppy dog the next.
“Allie, tell me you wouldn’t have done the same for me.”
She said nothing. She didn’t have to.
In case the reader is wondering, there was no romantic feeling between Allie Summer and me. We had a tremendous respect for each other, but, at the moment, my love was Kelly Atkins, and hers was the territorial Rangers. So let me put an immediate end to any speculations about future nuptials for me and Allie.
The next thing I did was look at her swollen left ankle. It was pretty bad and I don’t know how she had walked on it—except through sheer grit. “Hang on,” she said, and reached into her saddlebag. She pulled out a piece of paper and wrote on it for a few seconds. Then she handed me the paper. It was botanical from top to bottom.
“You may find all of these plants in the forest here. Do you know them?”
I nodded.
“If you can collect them, we can make a paste and wrap my ankle in it. The swelling will subside and fairly rapidly.”
“An old Indian recipe?” I asked her.
“Yes.”
I nodded again and went flower hunting.
The main items on her list were dandelion root, bilberry, and lavender, but she also had geranium and rosemary, and I thought she might be getting a little exotic asking for those. But I found most of what she wanted, and, upon returning to the cave, whipped up a herbal remedy at her direction. It ended up being a paste with which I coated her ankle.
“Now let me sleep,” she said, with a sigh, and groggily. She lay down on her back and I’m sure she was in dreamland within 10 seconds.
I fed and watered the horses, collected some more firewood, and fretted over Kellys Atkins and Kramer. I didn’t know how long it would be before Allie would be able to ride. However, I knew she’d want to before she should. I’d tie her down if I had to, and just hope the Tollivers had taken a trip to Mars.
Or somewhere farther away than that.
They hadn’t. They were a whole lot nearer than I wanted them to be.
Too near…