Saddle Dust

Chapter 4

In the past... 1856

Sundance Kid grabbed the dazed girl off of the man's lap, leaving the woman behind to shake uncontrollably and dry-heave in the corner of the seat. As soon as he was safely mounted on his horse and had the girl tucked protectively into the hole-ridden tan wings of his duster, he kicked the horse on while tearing the bandana from his face and pressing it to the girl's own. He felt her body go limp and grow heavy in the saddle. Her unconscious body nearly slid out from between his arms as he spurred his horse on even faster.

The Wild Gang disappeared into the cooling air of an Iowan summer night. It was early July, and the girl was already beginning to forget her ranch family, and the school for ladies, and would wake up to remember that the six outlaws had rescued her from a life of domesticity and a life spent in straight-jacket dresses.

The gang finally slowed their horses down to a trot as soon as they were sure that the sun had set enough for them to begin to look for camp. They continued to ride on for another two or three miles, however, to clear the last of the towns on the far western spread of Iowa. They were heading to Wyoming to lay low for a while after stirring up Pinkerton's in St. Paul. Plus a cattle drive was going to be rolling that way and the gang was looking to fill an advertisement for good cattle (no questions asked) for a train heading to Chicago.

The Wild Gang finally dismounted just a dozen miles outside eastern Nebraska. Forty-eight miles south of Sioux City and forty-eight miles north of Omaha. The landscape was flat. Not a farmhouse in sight. Just some empty grazing fields.

Sundance slides from his horse, declaring the site absolute perfection for a night out, and hands his reins to Butch. The girl's wound had long since stopped bleeding and she had even managed to nod her head awake for an hour before falling uneasily asleep for the final two hours of the journey.

Sundance rolls out his blanket and lays her gently on it. Kneeling beside her, he gingerly unwraps the bloodstained bandana from around her head and pours the alcohol from his own supply on it before gently brushing the dirt out of her wound with his thumb.

The rest of the gang sets up the horse line and loosely ties the horse's necks together diagonally to keep them from bolting. The animals were tired enough that even if they did manage to bolt, they wouldn't bother running far.

The chores done and horses tied, they all begin to gather around the sleeping girl and Sundance as he tends to her wound.

"Now what in the hell'd you bring her for? This ain't no place for a little girl. I don't give a hogshit if she reminds you of your sister, or your mother, or some woman you had in Minneapolis. She ain't meant to be here. That woman could have been her own mother for chrissake! You're a damned fool Sundance an' you'll be the death of us all if ya keep ridin' round doing...doing... DAD ABOVE CAN'T EVEN GET THE WORDS OUT!"

Butch Cassidy was spitting mad. He was nearly glowing with ember-hot rage.

Sundance Kid's decision to grab the girl from the train had been a popular topic of discussion since the gang had cleared the towns and felt free to talk more openly. By the time they had well cleared the Little Sioux River, half of the deer in Iowa must've been nearing New England running from all of the...discussing.

"The next time you say my mother's name alongside that of the word whore in the same sentence will be the time I hang you by your bare ass from a courthouse roof wearing nothing but the clothes you were born in. That woman was not her mother." Sundance finished softly, looking full-on into Butch's face. His eyes threatened murder if Butch kept at it. Sundance continued.

"Did you see how she threw her into the man's arms? She was disgusted with her. No mother would–" Now it was Deaf Charlie's turn.

"Holy hell Sundance! That horseshit still don't justify the damn thing. Why in the hot hellofa bitch'd you grab her from the train? We'll have all of Iowa and half of hell after us lookin' for her. She's wearing good enough clothes to warrant that kind of attention. You're going to get us all planted in the bone orchard before we can take our morning constitutional."

"Oh. Well if it's puttin' miles 'tween us and them's got you all worried up, you can hit the road. I heard that real estate's as cheap as dirt in hell right now."

"Squealin' lady! You little shit, your skull couldn't hold enough water for a canary to feel refreshed! I oughta..."

Deaf Charlie began to draw out his gun but Sundance was faster. Pulling his Colt from his belt, he whipped Charlie's gun out of his hands sending it flying. Charlie doubled, groaning and cussing over his two broken fingers.

"Damn it, Charlie, you fired the damn gun at the woman in the first place. We ain't looking to kill, you know that and I know it. And you, Bullion, don't even start in."

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Thank you. At least I'm not the only one here without shit for brains."

"I'm not saying it was a good idea, but what's done is done. I ain't got hand in it now."

"Look. I know y'all think that was a fool-ass move to make, but this kid got guts. I don't know if she's got folk out there lookin' for her, but they ain't takin' care of her. She weren' meant for fancy clothes or the rag-proper lickfingers life. Like it or not, this girl's my daughter now. She's family. Only a Longabaugh could stand up to a Longabaugh and live. So either y'all are just gonna have to disremember the money I just won you and skedaddle before my gun finds yer arse, or say hello to yer niece."

There was tomb silence before Charlie held out his damaged hand to Sundance and shook, tears building on the edges of his eyes from the pain in his fingers.

Bill grunts from the edge.

"I do believe that the Kid's right. The only one to stand up to a Long and walk away by the power of his own two legs was a Long." Wild Bill took his old brown bowler off and looked down at the sleeping girl by his feet.

"Howdy there, lil' feller."

The rest of the gang followed, muttering along Bill's words, each taking a hat off, and staring down at the bloody but peaceful face of the girl. Butch patted Sundance's shoulder, shook his head, and walked off to bed.