Free High Wild Desert by Ralph Cotton

as an insult and come after us anyway,” Lang said. “No, Adele, it’s going to cost us a horse to get to New Delmar. This is how quick a small band of Apache can take over a trail.”
    â€œI’m sorry, ma’am,” the Ranger said. “This horse wasn’t going to last long anyway.” He swung down from his saddle. “You’ve been out here long enough. You should be used to these kinds of trade matters.”
    Adele took a resolved breath.
    â€œYes, I understand,” she said as Sam untied her few belongings from atop the roan.
    She watched as Sam started to carry some of her items to load them up behind Lang’s saddle.
    â€œLeave it all lie, Ranger Burrack,” she said.
    Sam stopped and looked at her.
    â€œAre you sure, ma’am?” he asked.
    â€œI’m sure,” she replied. “It’s nothing I can’t replace when I get to where I’m going. I still have some money I managed to save.”
    Lang sat looking along the upper edges of cliffs as Sam led the bareback roan into the trail and slipped the lead rope from around its muzzle.
    â€œYou know, Ranger, not to be a nuisance, but with Apache breathing down our necks, you might want to uncuff me here so I can be some help if need be.”
    â€œKeeping your mouth shut is about as much help as I want out of you, Cisco,” Sam said. Holding his rifle, he slapped a gloved hand on the roan’s rump and sent the horse off on a fast trot along the rock trail. Dust spun and billowed in the roan’s wake.
    â€œ
Bon appétit,
”
Lang said quietly toward the distant shelter of rocks as the horse galloped away.
    Sam just gave him a hard stare.
    â€œEverybody’s got to eat.” Lang shrugged. He turned to Adele and offered a thin smile, which she ignored. Lang slumped a little as if embarrassed by his actions. Then he turned back to the Ranger with a more serious look.
    â€œYou don’t figure on following this same trail, do you?” he asked.
    â€œNo,” Sam replied. “I spotted another trail up the side back below the butte, before we got around the gully. I figured it’s a good place to duck out if we had to. We’re heading back now while the horse still has their attention.”
    â€œWe could watch for their fire, slip in and take them down,” Lang said, “if you would trust me with a gun, that is.”
    â€œI won’t, so forget it,” Sam said flatly, stepping back over to his Appaloosa. “Anyway, they won’t build a fire and cook it with the army on their tails. They’ll butcher it to the bone and eat while they ride.” He gave Lang a look that implied he should have known that himself, and swung up into his saddle.
    â€œYeah, yeah,” Lang grumbled under his breath. But he straightened in his saddle and turned and rode off in front of the Ranger, realizing the lawman had been watching, thinking, planning ahead this whole trek. This was not a man to discount when it came to knowing the art of staying alive, he told himself, nudging his horse forward.
    â€œOkay, Ranger,” he whispered to himself, “you know your business, I’ll give you that.”
    Three hours later, having swung up the steep, treacherous canyon trail, making better time without the spindly-legged roan, the three led their horses along the last fifty yards of loose silt and jagged rock. Once over the edge onto a narrow stretch of flatland, Lang allowed himself to collapse to the ground. Clasping his sweat-stained hat in one of his cupped hands, he fanned himself.
    â€œYou do not travel easy, Ranger,” he said. “I could lie here for an hour or—”
    His words stopped short as Sam grabbed the third cuff hanging on the short chain between his wrists and gave a jerk.
    â€œOn your feet, Cisco,” he said, pulling hard, forcing the outlaw to stand.
    â€œDamn it, Ranger,” said Lang. “All I’m doing