Free Comstock Cross Fire by Gary Franklin Page B

When Eli finally reined the sweating horse in and slipped off its bare back, he staggered and then collapsed, still holding the Sharps rifle but having little else on his person.
    â€œWhat happened?” Ransom Holt demanded, towering over the exhausted man. “Where’s your brother and the horses you left here on?”
    â€œWe got into a terrible fix,” Eli said, shaking his head. “Ran into trouble in Placerville and—”
    Holt reached down and jerked the smaller man to his feet and shook him hard. “What kind of fucking trouble? Where’s your brother, where’s my buckboard and supplies, and since you don’t have any of them, where the hell is my two hundred dollars?”
    â€œI still got it! I got it right here,” Eli stammered. “We didn’t go on a drinkin’ spree or piss your money away on whores or anything, Mr. Holt! I swear we didn’t.”
    Holt shoved the man backward. “Then what did happen?”
    Eli swallowed. “Well, sir, it was like this. We was on our way to Placerville when some Indians jumped us and took everything including our horses.”
    â€œWhat Indians?”
    â€œUtes,” Eli said, shooting a glance at Joe Moss. “I believe they were Utes. They came in the night and attacked our camp. My poor brother . . .”
    Eli sobbed, and it was clear that he wasn’t faking his emotions. “Poor Dalton fought like a wild man, but they killed him anyway.”
    â€œBut you somehow managed to get away.”
    â€œI did, barely,” Eli said, wiping the tears from his blood-shot eyes with the back of his ragged sleeve. “But my brother is dead! I saw him go down and they swarmed all over him like locusts. Dalton never had a chance. I killed a couple of ’em but there were way too many for me, so I had no choice but to run for my life.”
    â€œDamn!” Holt said. “Why didn’t you continue on to Placerville and use my money to buy supplies?”
    Eli shook his head and carefully considered his answer. “The Utes were still after me. I’d managed to grab this black gelding, but he ain’t fast. If it hadn’t been for the night bein’ so dark, those Utes would surely have overtaken and scalped me.”
    Holt stared at the two hundred dollars in his big hand as he considered this setback. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Well, I’m sorry about Dalton. But we’ve got the two extra horses that belonged to Jedediah and Ike. We’ll just have to pack up our stuff and get a move on, although I’m tempted to go back to Placerville. Maybe we’d find those murderin’ Utes and you could get some payback, Eli.”
    â€œWell, sir, I’d like nothin’ better, but it’s a long ride in the wrong direction. Those Utes might have followed me and they could be comin’ to kill us like they killed Dalton.”
    â€œIf they do, it will be the last mistake they ever make,” Holt said, not seeming a bit worried. “But no matter. We’ll find a little settlement somewhere up ahead in the next few days, and then we can buy what we need before trying to get across the Great Basin Desert.”
    Fiona took a step forward. “You aren’t expecting my Joe to ride a horse now, are you?”
    â€œHe either does that or he walks,” Holt coldly answered. “Either way, it’s his choice.”
    â€œI can ride,” Joe decided.
    â€œYeah, Joe, that’s exactly what I thought you’d say,” Holt told him dismissively.
    Fiona looked at Joe and then back at Holt with anxiety written all over her face. “Mr. Holt, my husband’s wounds are fresh and he’s lost a lot of blood. If his horse stumbled and fell . . .”
    â€œThat’s the chance he’ll have to take,” Holt said. “Isn’t that right, Joe?”
    â€œI’ll be fine, Fiona,” Joe vowed. “I’ll get stronger