Free The Last Ride of Caleb O'Toole by Eric Pierpoint

mounted the huge black horse. Lord, he is big , thought Caleb. Dusty was big too, and Caleb could ride him for all his worth. But this one fit the likes of Henderson. The horse seemed to know he was being given a task, for he let Caleb guide him to the side of the wagon. Together, he and Julie helped the wounded Henderson onto the black. Barely able to hold himself up, Henderson slumped forward in the saddle, arms around his horse. Then Caleb got on as Julie handed him the reins. Slowly, the powerful horse fought against the current until they were safely on the bank of the rocky rise. He tried to ease the big man off the stallion, but the gunfighter was too heavy for him and they both crashed to the ground. Henderson painfully rolled to his side and began to drag himself to the shelter of the rocks. Caleb grabbed the reins of the powerful horse and pulled himself up. He then scrambled back up onto the saddle and went back for Tilly. He brought the black to the rear of the wagon and jumped aboard, gathering his terrified little sister in his arms. Tilly held tightly to Caleb’s neck as he placed her on the saddle of the stallion. He swung his leg up and settled in behind her, grabbing her tight with his free hand and reaching for the reins with his other. Slowly, they made their way to the riverbank. He jumped off the horse and carefully pulled Tilly to him. Then he took her to the shelter of the rocks and laid her down by Henderson. Caleb then rode back to the wagon and fished out the long rope he had packed in the big tool chest. He tied it to Dusty’s harness, mounted the black, and tied the other end of the rope to the saddle horn.
    â€œYa, boy! Go!” The huge horse dug into the river rock, the muscles on his wet flank bulging. The tornado, just a half-mile away, advanced in a deafening roar, its black and silver funnel bent and twisted as it tore up the Nebraska plain. Sheets of rain pelted them mercilessly.
    â€œDusty! Come on!” yelled Julie as she took hold of the reins and gave Dusty his command. “Ya!”
    Finally the wagon lurched forward. Caleb and Julie, working as a team, managed to pull the wagon back around. Then as quickly as the tornado came, it vanished. Not two hundred yards away, the funnel cloud began to draw back into the black sky. They were spared. As they pulled out of the muddy overflow of the river, water cascaded from the wagon. Then lo and behold, two fish flipped and flopped from the buckboard and landed next to Julie. She dove quickly for the fish.
    â€œWell,” said Julie as she scrambled for the fish. “We’ve got supper!”
    ***
    The campfire lit up the rocks around them as they roasted the two trout on sticks. Their shelter had proven to be a real find. The craggy stones above them kept the wind and rain away and there was enough room so they could all lay down on the hard-packed dirt. They were dry. Pieces of charred wood lay scattered about, evidence of pioneers or Indians past, who must have sought refuge in the cavelike structure. Still, there was enough good wood to build a fire. It was fortunate they still had matches in a tightly sealed jar in the tool chest. The rain continued to fall. Lightning flashed in the distance. Caleb shook his head silently at the new state they found themselves in. It was a pretty hopeless one. He knew it was probably not a good idea to keep the fire going too long. He didn’t want to attract attention. But tired and wet as they were, and powerfully hungry, he figured it was better to risk it. They had to shed most of the clothes on their backs to dry them by the fire. Tilly lay next to Tumble for warmth. Julie took one of the trout and offered it to her, but she refused it.
    â€œShe won’t eat, Caleb.” Julie drew Tilly to her. It wasn’t like Tilly to not eat. Something had to be wrong. Tilly cried softly in Julie’s arms. “Want to hear a story, Tilly? Once upon a