Split Trails Ranch

"Jess, honey, I'm most pleased to see you."

She looked into my eyes, reason returning. "DADDY!" she screamed, before fainting in my arms. I picked her up and carried her into the shade, the little girls following behind. I lay her down and Sonny brought me some cool water from the spring. I gently bathed her face as the tiny redheads watched closely. "You girls all right?"

One nodded solemnly. "Are you her Pa?"

"I am."

"She told us not to give up or lose faith, that you were coming, and you would take care of us. She promised."

I stopped, looking at the serious youngster, my heart hurting over what they had been through. "Well then, if she promised it must be true. You girls are coming home with us."

Jess had woken up long enough to hear the last and she smiled. "I told you little ones. My Daddy is famous for finding daughters. You belong to us now."

That must have opened the dam, because those little angels cried their hearts out, clinging to me and Jess. I grinned, wondering what the girls back home would make of this.

We had opened the gates and hung a white sheet over the entrance. It wasn't long until the troopers rode through, staring at the blood and the bodies. I shook the Lieutenant's hand. "Well done, sir. The piece of artillery was genius. That one shell must have taken out a third of their force instantly. It was the opening we were looking for."

A Corporal, not the one that had manned the howitzer, asked how many prisoners we had. No one but him seemed surprised to hear there were none. Well there was one, but he was dead, he just didn't know it yet.

Jessica had pulled the little derringer as Lucas was dragging her. Not able to aim properly she just reached up until she felt flesh and pulled the triggers. She had gutshot him, both balls going in just above the groin and traveling upwards. He was dead, even if we were inclined to save him it would take a doctor too long to get here. I squatted down while he begged and pleaded for a doctor and some water. Reaching down and poking him in the belly with the butt of my shotgun I caused him to scream. I leaned closer, whispering.

"I should have killed you at that dance. Reckon how many people would still be alive if I had? No matter. Does it hurt? I damn sure hope so. It'll be a while before you die and I hope as bad as it hurts it's nothing compared to the flames of hell. When you see Butch and his crew, tell them I said it couldn't have happened to a more deserving bunch. Not counting the others, Corky was worth more than the whole sorry gang. Rot in hell, asshole." It took him twelve hours to die, screaming in pain until he lost his voice. He went out with a whimper, his last vision on this earth Jessica's grinning face.

The military was sorting through the bodies when I went back, loading them in a couple of buckboards they'd found. "We're confiscating everything," the Corporal told us. "We're always short good mounts, and this troop will be pretty well heeled from now on." I noticed almost every trooper had a Winchester, their old single shots piled in a wagon. They were also sporting all kinds of sidearms, Colts, Remingtons, Smith and Wessons, etc.

They had found a strongbox in what had to be Kramer's cabin. Shooting the lock off they found it contained about six thousand in cash. "What should we do with it?"

"It's on my property, so by rights it's mine." They wanted to argue until I told them I intended to give every man who helped me a hundred dollar bonus. I walked around with Bud and the Lieutenant, handing out cash. The troopers would remember this excursion for a long long time. I made a vow to send the same amount to the family of every man who had fallen.

Thankfully there weren't that many. The element of surprise and the howitzer had turned the trick. I had four wounded slightly, and two that were going to take a long time to heal. They'd draw full wages while they recovered.

We were just about to wrap everything up when a trooper came up, saluting. "Sir, we've found evidence that some may have escaped. There's a tunnel..."

"Trooper, I'm sure you are mistaken. No one escaped. That is what my report shall say, are you prepared to dispute that?"

He was about to argue when it hit him what he was saying. He snapped another salute. "No Sir! I fear I may have read the sign wrong."

The Lieutenant nodded. "Very good. Carry on, Trooper."

He turned and shook my hand. "I hope your drive next year is under more pleasant conditions. I'll see you then."

He strode off, whistling. There was one tense scene when Jessica told a trooper in no uncertain terms he was not taking her weapons. He had her little rifle on his horse, Sabrina's shotgun in his hands. Both pistols were in a wagon. It was cleared up, and soon Jess had Sabrina's .38 strapped on, her pistol in a saddlebag bound for Mr. Herman to repair. She found enough shells to fill the beltloops, and a trooper rushed up handing her a leather bag of 32-20's and some .410 shells. She happily filled her rifle and slid it into the scabbard, holding the shotgun across the saddle.

She was back on Sweetie, Sabrina's little chestnut following along. Pa, Bud, Brad, Paul, Sonny, Jacinto, and Lionkiller sat with me as we watched the troopers fade into the distance. Then we turned and rode through the tunnel. I heard a whinny, and looked to see Jess behind me. She never said a word, riding up beside me after we had cleared the tunnel. Well, I guess I owed it to her to be in on the finish.

They left a trail a blind man could follow. We found one the first day, lying under a tree. They'd taken everything except his clothes, so we just left him layin' and rode on. The one we found the next morning was still alive, just barely. It was plain to see he was bound for his judgement and after he answered a few questions we gave him a canteen of water and a spare pistol in exchange. We dropped three shells just out of reach and rode on. I figured when it got bad enough he'd use one on himself.

They were four left, judging by the tracks. Sonny had been scouting for us and when he came trotting back we knew he had news. "Two of 'em at a waterhole 'bout two miles out. Looks like they took their horses and left 'em. I almost shot them out of hand, but thought we might want to palaver a bit first."

He had been grimfaced and brooding since Bud had been killed. I think that we were tracking his father made him more so. I rode up beside him the first day. "You all right with what we're doing?"

He nodded. "If ever a man needs to go to hell, it's him. He deserves everything that's going to happen to him. I just want to make sure he dies for what he's done to us and every other person he's brought misery and death."

Jess had told me a little about what they had endured, and in the rare times I'd seen Bud and Sonny without shirts the scars across their back were plain to see. He'd never whipped Jess with anything that would leave marks, but he'd abused her pretty hard. I won't deny it was going to give me great pleasure to bring him to an end.

They watched us ride up, fear on their faces. They had no mounts and no weapons, so they couldn't run or fight. We ranged in front of them and just sat. After a few minutes they couldn't stand the silence and one spoke.

"I know you're gonna hang us. I don't blame ya. Before we go, I want your promise you'll get Preacher and his lackey."

He told us the whole story. They were about to ride out when Preacher came running up holding his ruined arm. They had a couple of torches, so they could see how to remove the cover from the back exit. Two held him while another slapped the torch to the stump to stop the bleeding. They tied a rag around his arm and told him it was ride or get left behind, gave him a spare horse and made their escape.

"We 'bout rode our horses to death, knowing you'd probably be comin'. He waited until we were asleep and took our weapons and hosses. He's crazy, mister. He kept ranting about gettin' a new gang and coming back for you. Promise me you'll kill him."

I promised him, and let him write a letter to his sister. The other man hadn't said a word, sitting with his head down wating for the inevitable. We made it quick, making sure their necks broke instead of letting them dangle, and rode on. Somebody might come along and cut them down. If not, nature would take care of it.

We caught up to them late the next afternoon. Their horses were blown out, barely stumbling along. Sonny stopped on an a little rise, knelt down and took careful aim. The rifle boomed, and Preacher's horse went down. He got up as the other rider trotted back with one of the other horses, reaching down to help him up. Preacher shot him, intending to take both mounts. That didn't work because the shot spooked the horses and they trotted off, leaving him standing. We rode up, stopping well out of pistol range. It didn't stop him from emptying it, then he turned to his horse and tried to pull his rifle out. I was wondering how he would be able to shoot it one handed when Sonny's rifle boomed again, hitting Preacher in the shoulder of his remaining arm.

He was screaming curses at us when we trotted up, holding his stump against the shoulder. We just sat for a minute listening. He finally ran out of breath. Jess rode forward, Sonny right behind her. Preacher went quiet, fear evident on his face for the first time.

"Hello, Pa. Happy to see us? We're damn sure glad to see you. It means we can end this, right here, right now."

He looked at Jess and Sonny before booming out commands. "Children! You must honor your father. The Bible says so. Now help bind my wounds, and take me back to my ranch!"

"Far as we're gonna take you is that tree yonder. You'll meet your end there. I bet God 's gonna want to talk to you, right before he sends you to hell. I'd like to hear that conversation."

Giving it up for a lost cause, he tried to run. Since he was going in the direction we wanted him to go anyway, we just followed along. It didn't take him long before he had to stop, wheezing for breath. Jess dropped down off Sweetie, unrolling the bullwhip she'd picked up. It sang through the air, landing across his thighs. He screamed in pain before trying to run again. She walked along behind him, occasionally landing a blow on his back or legs. When we got to the trees she snapped the whip again, wrapping it around his legs and dropping him. Sonny got down off his horse, walking up and grabbing him by his long hair. "Before we hang you, I need to give you something to remember. Remember saying that? It was your exact words, every time you whipped me. I remember every time I take my shirt off."

Carlos and Brad helped him get Preacher up and strapped to a tree. Carlos's knife flashed and we could hear it going through the fabric of his coat and shirt. A few more cuts and they lay in tatters out his feet, his pants around his ankles. Bud snapped the whip a couple of times making him flinch. That's when the begging began. "Please don...AAAAHHH!"

The whip hit, cutting a gash from his right shoulder to the top of his left buttock. He sounded like an animal screaming. Before he could draw a breath he got a matching stripe on the opposite side. Then Bud meticulously flayed the skin off his back. It didn't look like it belonged to a human when he was done. Pa started forward but I put my arm out.

"This has been a long time coming. It's family business, and we need to stay out of it. He'll be done here directly."

Even as I spoke Sonny stepped back. Then he handed the whip to Jess, who concentrated on his buttocks. One swing managed to go between the cheeks of his ass, the tip curling inwards. When it hit the back of his balls his scream was so high pitched you could barely hear it. He slumped in his bonds, passed out over the pain. That was enough for her, and she dropped the whip and stood back.

Brad and I tossed a rope over a limb, tying it around his neck, not even using the hangman's knot. The other end went to the pommel of the recovered horse, and we walked her back slowly, dragging him upright. We let him dangle on his toes for a minute, then slapped the horse's rump. The weary animal trotted forward a few feet before stopping, plain worn out.

We hadn't tied his...hand? And he was grasping at the rope with it and his stump, trying to take the pressure off. He didn't have the grip or the strength and we stood impassively, watching him sway and gurgle. It probably took him two minutes to die. We waited another five minutes, then turned and saw to our horses.

"We'll ride back a ways, stop at the spring. We'll get a good nights' sleep and head for home."

Nobody said much as we traveled. I saw my father looking at me, and one afternoon he trotted up beside me. "You've turned into a hard man, son."

"I'm not a bit different now than I was when I left our ranch. I really didn't understand it before I left, but I got a family now. People who depend on me to keep them sheltered, fed, and protected. I take that pretty serious. You taught me that."

He nodded, and said no more about it. I was never so happy in my life to see our house come into sight. We trotted up to see our whole family standing on the porch. Paris, Henri, Sabrina, Emily, Jane, Maria, and Jenny. I searched for Claire, relieved when she came out, the little redheads holding each hand. "See? I told you, little darlings. Your father always returns."

Ther was a lot of tears, women welcoming their men home from battle, relieved they weren't widows. Claire and I lay together that night, snuggled close. No one could stand the thought of using the bathhouse, so we all took old fashioned baths, washing the dust and blood of us. Well, the blood was already off, this was just symbolic.

We talked a little about the twins. "Can we keep them? Is there room in your heart for them? They literally have no one, and I hate to think where they might end up if we let them go."

I grinned into her hair. "I made them promises when we rescued them. Have you ever seen me go back on a promise? Four daughters! It's a good thing we have lots of shotguns."

I felt her tears as she kissed my hand before resuming her position. "This one is a boy. I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I'm hoping he'll be the first of several."

"Whatever it is, it will be loved."

My family stayed for three more weeks before they left. Jenny decided to stay for another month to get to know her nieces better. She claimed a line back dun with a gentle disposition, and she rode the range with Sabrina and Jessica, all well armed and never out of sight of at least two men.

Jessica told me about her promise to Long Tom, even though he never heard her, so I ordered it along with the rest of the markers I wanted. It took two wagons to haul the marble monuments out to the ranch and two days to se them up. One for Courtney, 'Loving Sister', one for Bud and Sissy. Unable to marry in life, I had the stone engraved with his last name behind hers. "Bud and Sissy Higgins, Together In Eternity". Another was engraved "Tom Swift, Loving Uncle." All the hands that had fallen were memorialized, honored by the people they'd died to save.

I tore the Bathhouse down and built a better one in it's place. Six women and four little girls use up a lot of water, not counting the women we'd rescued. They stayed with us until we sorted out what to do. Two had ranches and relatives to go home to, so we escorted them when the time came. One of the ladies had no family and nowhere to go, so she stayed with us as cook and seamstress. She stayed quite busy, and when she say Courtney's sewing machine she cried, thinking of the joy it must have brought her.

A U.S Marshall showed up about a month after the battle, looking grim. He'd backtrailed the two tasked with bringing Butch and crew to justice, finding their shallow graves a state away. I asked him what I should do with the stolen cattle. I'd already identified the brands of the two ladies who were leaving, and instead of driving them back they had sold them to me at a decent price.

"Round them up, get a good tally, and send it to me. If we can't find out who owned them, they're yours. When and if we find owners, I'll tell them about the deal you struck with the ladies. Most aren't going to want to come this far so they'll probably sell to you. What do you want to do with the rewards?"

That caught me by surprise. Seems of the bunch we wiped out at the ranch and in the canyon, many had a price on their heads. I cousulted with my family, and it was decided to split the money among the former hostages, to make sure they'd have a good stake to start over with. I made sure the twins got their due, putting it in the bank for them until they came of age.

Adele became attached to Claire, while Belle made it pretty clear she expected her own horse, and soon, so she wouldn't have to ride in front of me as I traveled. The older sisters and aunt got involved, so I sent word to Senor Gomez. He was really happy with me because between my father and brothers they bought almost everything he had. Five months later I had a matched pair of bay ponies, with small saddles. After that, the girls started following their older siblings around as much as possible.

There had been a young Mexican beauty with a four year old son among the hostages, and she took a shine to Brad because he could speak her language. They grew closer and no one was really surprised when little Juan spoke up at the dinner table just after the ponies had arrived. "Papa, when are you going to get me a horse?" Rosalita blanched as Brad grinned.

"Soon, little man. I promise."

It was no surprise when she wanted to return to her ranch that he escorted her. The day they left he handed me the Colt revolving shotgun. It caught me by surprise. "That hasn't been mine since the first time you touched it. You hang on to it, it might come in handy on the trail."

He just grinned and stuck it back in it's scabbard. Carlos was going to travel with them and on to his family's ranch. Henri was going with him ,and I saw her absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. I asked Claire and she grinned, her own pregnancy far enough along to show. "You Walters brothers made pretty good studs, honey. I'm thinking it's a girl." I laughed when she said that. Welcome to my world, Brad.

A year went by. Claire gave me a fine son, and four months later was pregnant again. So much for her worries about being barren. We gave Sonny the little spread we promised Bud and Sissy, and he found a wife among the Mormons, even though they disowned her for marrying out of her faith. I was a little worried, those Mormons were a tought bunch, but I'm guessing our reputation made them think twice. I nearly fell off the porch when he rode by one day, telling me his wife wants them to take in her younger sister. "Beth said she'll make a fine second wife."

I told Claire about the conversation and asked what she thought of me taking a second wife. She asked me how I thougth I'd enjoy the rest of my life as a gelding. I never joked about it again.

Paris got accepted to a medical school . It wasn't Toronto but a new place in the States. Johns Hopkins University, the best medical school available. We paid the fees and put five thousand in the bank for her to draw on, quite the sum for the day. Henri had sold us her share of the ranch when she left, but Paris wanted to keep hers, to make sure she'd have a home to come back to. When she go through with school and was a full fledged doctor she came home with a new husband, a Swede who had traveled to the University to study. He was was big, blond, and worshipped the ground she walked on. The only thing we didn't like was his aversion to guns. Jessica was seventeen by then, quite an attractive woman, and she and Sabrina laughed when he told them that, both showing him the pistols they carried in their purses when they were in town.