Ca.s.sandra Austin.

Wait For The Sunrise.

"What do you look like?"

Cynthie's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't speak around the lump in her

throat. She found his hands and brought them to her face. She felt a heatin her body that had more to do with desire than the warmth of his touch.Winn's voice dropped to just above a whisper."I can't tell much with my fingers."Cynthie leaned toward him, so slightly she wasn't even conscious of it.It was all the invitation Winn needed. He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.

Ca.s.sandra Austin has always lived in North Central Kansas, and was raised onmuseums and arrowhead hunts; when she began writing, America's Old Westseemed the natural setting. Now she writes between and sometimes during 4-H,school events and the various activities of her three children. Her husband farms, and they live in the house where he grew up.

Dedicated with thanks to the Clay Center Writers of Kansas Authors' Club

Chapter One.

Q^z^^s^Q Kansas, June 1870 It would seem ironic later that thenightmare should begin on such a perfect morning. Winter Sutton would remember the sun spreading a red glow across the horizon as he rode towardthe wagon after the last watch. A clear picture of that morning would beprinted in his mind the way a lightning flash can stay in one's eyes afterit's gone. A brief shower in the night had washed the air and sharpened theview. For once he could fill his lungs with sweet air instead of dust.

The cattle behind him were quiet. He watched a young rabbit bound awaythrough the tall gra.s.s. The spirited mare he had jokingly named Lullaby hadbehaved herself during the night. Now she seemed to know he was distracted and stopped, practically mid- stride, and bucked, attempting to throw himover her head.

Winn laughed, patting her neck as she settled down.

"You must be tired, girl," he said.

"You can do better than that."

He was used to this habit of hers and kept the reins wrapped around his handso he wouldn't have to catch her again. He touched her with his spurs andshe obediently moved forward. He would circle the herd and cheek on Slim before returning to camp. Slim should be somewhere on the east side of the herd, probably heading in, as well.

Slim Jackson had been hired away from his daddy's little farm in Texas forthis drive, and there were many things he had yet to learn. Winn enjoyedhelping him when he could; it was a way to pa.s.s the time.

It didn't seem so long ago that this had all been new to Winn. He was still grateful to the old-timers like Mike Grady, who had helped him along, and hewas glad to return the favor now with Slim.

In his own case, however, he had been older and had brought with him someknowledge of the world that Slim seemed to lack. Sometimes he worried that it was becoming less a job of teaching the boy and more one of loo king outfor him.

As he pa.s.sed near the camp. Lullaby danced a little sidestep. Winn's firm hand on the reins kept her from heading toward the remuda.

"I want rest as much as you do, girl," he said. "This won't take long."

Lullaby tossed her head in disagreement.

At camp, Mike Grady rolled out of his blanket, irritated that hisfifty-year-old joints complained so much. He saw Winn and the sorrel pa.s.s^and chuckled. "He's got to go tell the kid it's time to come in," he said to no one in particular. At the wagon, he splashed water on his face andlooked out across the prairie. All he saw was waving gra.s.s, the dark outlineof the sleeping herd and Winn riding at a walk away from camp.

"Like I thought. No sign of him."

"No sign of who?" The trail boss had come up behind Mike. He reached for a cup and followed Mike to the fire.

"Oh, that kid. Slim. Winn just rode by lookin' for him, I guess."

"He must have found him," Boss said.

Mike turned to look. The sorrel was running, not a recommended activityaround a sleeping herd. In the distance to the east was a dark spot raisinga cloud of dust. Mike had missed seeing it before.

Boss dropped his cup and hurried for the remuda. Mike followed, limping alittle as he tried to keep up. The men a.s.signed the morning watch werealready saddling horses. Boss was appropriating two of these when Mikecaught up with him.

As soon as Winn saw Slim in the distance, he knew the boy was in trouble; hedidn't realize how much until he got closer. Slim had somehow managed totoss his rope around the horns of a big mean cow the boys called Rosie.

Rosie had caused trouble the entire drive. One of the boys had said shereminded him of a wh.o.r.e in San Antonio who had turned mean when he had come up a dollar short of her fee. They had named the cow after the wh.o.r.e andthey all tried to avoid her.

Evidently Rosie had decided to leave the herd and hadn't cooperated when Slimhad tried to drive her back. The cow had turned on the horse, and Slim was doing his best to keep out of the way of the horns. The horse couldn't move any farther from the cow than the length of the rope tied to the saddle horn.

"Drop the rope!" Winn called. He wasn't sure he was close enough for Slimto hear, but he was getting closer every second.

"Drop the rope!" he called again.

He could see the boy fumble with the rope for a second before reining thefrightened horse away from the charging cow. The horse jerked to a stop asthe two animals reached the ends of the rope.

Slim fumbled with the rope again. The horse pranced and tossed his head, making it more difficult for the equally frightened boy.

With Rosie's next charge, the horse swerved and ran, nearly tossing Slim tothe ground. It was only a matter of time before Rosie's horns would catchthe horse, and Slim would almost certainly be killed.

Slim's only chance was for Winn to distract Rosie. He pulled Lullaby to abone-jarring stop close to the enraged animal and held her firmly as shetried to dance away.

Rosie looked at the newcomers and snorted. She only waited a second beforelowering her head and lunging at Winn and Lullaby. Slim's cow pony hadstayed true to training and backed away, keeping the rope tight. Rosie's charge was cut short, and the rope jerked her around.

More angry than ever, she turned back to her first enemy. Slim put spurs tohis horse, attempting to dodge too early in Rosie's charge.

Rosie turned, as well, to chase the frightened horse.

Winn grabbed his rope and shook out the loop as he sent Lullaby racingafter them. He could see the boy's terrified face as he looked over hisshoulder at the angry beast.

Winn wished he could simply shoot Rosie. That would be the only way anyonewould get Slim's rope off her. But he couldn't shoot her from the back of a running horse, and she wasn't going to wait for him to stop and aim hisrifle. His only hope was to get his rope around her and get her away fromthe other horse.

In an instant he knew he was too late. Slim's horse stumbled and screamed in pain as Rosie's right horn tore into its flank. He couldn't see Slim, butWinn knew Rosie would try to kill him if she could.

Winn sent his rope sailing through the air, and it came to rest over Rosie'shorns. She let out a furious bellow and tossed her head, but her attentionwas still on the downed horse and boy.

Winn put spurs to Lullaby, hoping to pull Rosie away or at least restrain herlethal head. Lullaby leaped forward, bringing the rope tight, and reared.She had caught the scent of blood and fear and wanted only to be away fromit. She twisted around and tried to run in the other direction.

The maneuver brought the taut rope around Winn's body, ruining his balance.He saw Rosie's maddened eyes as Lullaby leaped out from under him.

Winn lay very still. He was aware of the smell of moist earth and a strangebuzzing in his ears. He opened his eyes and saw blades of fresh green gra.s.s.Something hard and cold was pressed against his face. A rock, he realized,sticky with his blood. He tried to raise his head, but it was too heavy.

He groaned, at first in defeat and then in pain as he felt himself beingrolled onto his back. His vision went hazy for a second then focused on MikeGrady.

' "Slim?" he asked, remembering only that the boy was in trouble."Boss went to pick him up. They're on their way," Mike said.Winn tried to sort out what must have happened but he couldn't seem to remember. The sound of running hooves came up through the ground and thundered in his head.

"Rosie?"

Mike laughed.

"Naw. She'll be dinner tonight."

A jolt of pain shot from his head clear through his body and left him gasping for breath.

"I'm sorry, Winn." Mike's voice sounded far away."This bleeding's got to stop."In a moment, the pain became concentrated in his head. Mike was pressing a handkerchief against his forehead. That must have been why he couldn't see

anything; he was trying to focus around the edges of a red bandanna."How bad is he, Mike?" Winn recognized the voice of the Double M's trailboss. Mike had lifted the handkerchief, but Winn still seemed to be loo kingthrough it. Everything was rimmed with red. There must be some blood in hiseyes, Winn decided.

He didn't see Mike's shrug. Some distant sound was trying to make its wayaround the pain. Concentrating on it made his vision blur.

"Lullaby," he heard himself whisper.

"Slim, his horse is still tied to that dead cow. Cut her loose," the boss ordered.

"Take her into camp and send the cook out here with a butch erin' crew."

"Yes, sir." The boy's voice was shaky. Winn wanted to volunteer to gethis own horse. He tried to rise, but Mike easily pushed him back to theground.

"You best tie him to a horse and head for Wichita," he heard the boss say.

"You think that's wise?"

"Well, the wagon'd be as rough a ride and a lot slower. You can't just camphere."

The sun had come up and was shining behind the boss. Winn could see the silhouette of the horse and rider. Boss surveyed the area, a familiar habitwhen he was about to make a decision.

"I'll send Slim back with provisions and an extra horse. It's a cinch Sut-ton's not up to handling that crazy mare. She'll cause you both no end oftrouble if you try to take her along." He wheeled his mount around to head for camp then spoke over his shoulder to Mike.

"You two see that Sutton's cared for, then high-tail it back to the herd. I don't have riders to spare!"

Hooves beat the ground again. They faded away into the pulse of pain inWinn's head. He had no notion of the pa.s.sage of time before the pulse becamethe throb of the earth and the thunder of approaching horses.

Mike began lifting him to his feet.

"Give us a hand, boy," he said.

"There's blood running in his beard again." Slim's voice sounded very young.

"It ain't his beard that worries me," was Mike's response.

Winn pa.s.sed out while they were lifting him onto the horse. He came to on a Double M gelding known for his smooth gait. He found that he could raise his head without much pain. Strange, though, that a morning that had startedout so clear had now turned hazy, he mused.

Mike noticed he was awake and pulled up to rest. "You ma king it all right?"he asked as he handed Winn a canteen.

"Yeah, I guess. Am I still bleeding?" Blood must be running in his eyes, hethought; the haze was tinted slightly red. He raised his hand to his forehead and felt a lump under a sticky piece of cloth.

"Not much," Mike said.

"We could stop and eat if you want."

The thought of food made Winn feel sick.

"How much farther?" he asked.

"Not more than ten miles. I was thin king you might sleep the whole trip."

"I wish I had." Winn's head was throbbing and the haze seemed to be gettingdeeper. Slim rode up beside him and straightened him in the saddle before herealized that he had started to lean. Slim looked very pale. It seemed odd,since everything else was turning red. Maybe it was sunset, but he couldfeel the warmth of the sun on his shoulders. Winn closed his eyes, hoping tolessen the pain.

He was aware of the horse moving, aware of the sounds of horses breathing,creaking leather and sometimes startled birds. Time didn't seem to pa.s.s likeit normally did. Surely they were near Wichita by now.

He thought he could hear a strange sort of distorted music. He opened hiseyes to look around and knew he had been dreaming. He was on a dimly litstreet.

There seemed to be a lot of activity for this time of night. Mike was getting directions to the doctor's.

Suddenly he felt foolish for being tied to his horse. He remembered the wound on his forehead; he had forgotten it for a moment. Anyone who saw thathe was tied to the horse could also see that he was hurt.

Slim didn't seem to be having trouble seeing in the dark. He flicked a flyaway from Winn's face.

"It's those buffalo hides that attract the flies,"

Slim said. "Saw a bunch of them stretched to dry just outside of town."

"Bet that's what I smell." Winn had been busy trying to sort out sounds inthe dark, and only now became aware of the pungent smell of drying meat andleather.

As Mike led the way to the doctor, a strange orange blaze became visiblebetween the buildings. Winn stared at it for a moment, though it made hiseyes ache. What kind of fire would make a light like that in the distance?