“Hell, Ernestine,” Jeeter said, and then, “This marriage business is new to me. I can’t change my ways as I would change clothes. It will take time. But I give you my solemn word that once we are shed of Kansas, I will tread softly on your account.”
“There is no time like the present,” Ernestine insisted. To her, he was merely being stubborn.
“You don’t know what you are ask—” Jeeter stopped and twisted halfway around. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Hoofbeats. Someone is following us.”
Ernestine swiveled and listened, but the only hooves she heard were those of their own mounts. She suspected her new husband of trying to change the subject, and grinned. “You are making it up.”
Jeeter rose in the stirrups and peered hard into the night behind them. It took a few seconds for what she had said to sink in. “Why in God’s name would I do that?”
“I will be grateful if you do not test the Almighty’s patience by taking him in vain,” Ernestine said.
Jeeter was beginning to wonder about her. She had a knack for taking everything he said the wrong way. Most of the time he did not mind because it was over trifles. But now their lives were at stake. Or at least his, since the good citizens of Dodge thought he had stolen her. He drew rein and she followed his example.
“Why did you stop?”
“Can you hear them now?” Jeeter asked.
Consternation crept over Ernestine. Distant and faint came the unmistakable drum of horses, moving fast. “How did you hear them?” she marveled.
“When you have ridden the wild country as long as I have,” Jeeter said, “it comes natural.”
“Who do you think it is?”
“Who else? It is the posse. And if they think I will let them get their hands on me, they have another think coming.”
Chapter 24
Ernestine Frost was in a bewildered frame of mind. She had lived her entire life without once witnessing an act of violence. Which suited her fine since she always regarded violence as an act of last resort. To her way of thinking, any dispute, any difficulty, could be resolved by talking it out. That was all it took. A little talk and a sincere wish by the parties involved to settle things amicably.
Then she married Jeeter Frost. Since her wedding she had held a lawman at gunpoint and helped bind him, then watched as another lawman was beaten senseless.
Now this.
Ernestine had never been particularly squeamish. She was not one of those who fainted at the sight of blood. Once she had come on the scene of a mishap involving a wagon that overturned and crushed the driver. She had seen the man’s crumpled form, seen shattered ribs sticking from the man’s pulped chest, and been unmoved. So it was not the grisly aftermath of violence she abhorred as much as it was the idea of violence itself.
By rights she should object to Jeeter inflicting more. But she was in a quandary. She had pledged herself to him, promised to be the best wife she could be, to stand by him through thick and thin. She should stand by him now and do as he wanted, but when he told her his plan, she balked.
“I refuse.”
“I am your husband. You are supposed to do as I ask.”
“How many wives are asked to do what you want me to do?” Ernestine pointed out. “You overstep the boundaries.”
Jeeter stifled his exasperation. He reminded himself that she was new to this sort of life. “Are you saying there are limits to your love?”
“I most definitely am not!” Ernestine replied, flustered by the suggestion. “When you give someone your heart, you give them all of you.”
“I gave mine to you,” Jeeter said.
Ernestine was confounded by how adroitly he had turned her argument against her. “And I to you!” she said more shrilly than she intended.
“Then why won’t you do it?”
“Men could die,” Ernestine said, thinking that would settle it.
“
Choked with emotion by a mental image of him lying on the plain shot to pieces and covered with blood, Ernestine said, “No, never.” And knew she had lost.
“Right here will do, then,” Jeeter said. “Remember, do it when they are twenty yards out. Remember to drop flat when the lead starts flying. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“Can’t we avoid them? It is night. It should be easy.”
“If we don’t do it now, we will have to do it later,” Jeeter said. “I would rather we had the edge than they did.”
Ernestine bowed her head. “I pray God will forgive me.” She heard him take the packhorse and go off into the dark, and she had never felt so frightened as she did waiting there alone for the posse to catch up. She prayed they would not find her. She prayed they would pass her to the east or the west, but it was not to be. The pounding of hooves grew louder, ever louder, and when it was loud enough to match the pounding in her veins, she climbed down, held firmly on to the reins, and called out, “Who is there? What do you want?”
The riders came to a stop. For a while there was silence and then a youthful voice asked, “Was that a female?”
“Yes,” answered someone in a harsh tone.
“Shouldn’t we answer her?”
