Longarm #399 : Longarm and the Grand Canyon Murders (9781101554401) by Tabor Evans

might die on travois. Plenty rough country.”
    “I’ll take my chances on the buckskin mare,” Longarm told them closing his eyes.
    The two Navajo men said nothing but left the hogan so that they could go off and talk about this among themselves. Longarm felt so tired he fell asleep as the baby began to cry again.
    Two days later, Longarm was lifted from his pallet and carried out to his horse then hoisted into his saddle. He clung to the saddle horn and hung his head, fighting off dizziness and nausea. “Let’s go,” he told the two Indians. “I can’t afford to miss that stagecoach.”
    When the mare began to walk, Longarm struggled not to lose consciousness. He figured that the Indianswould take him to the gap where he had been ambushed and through which the stagecoach would have to pass. And, to his way of thinking, that could not be more than five or ten miles.
    However, it seemed more like a hundred miles of agony before the man and his son finally called a halt and helped Longarm down from the buckskin mare. They assisted him over to a large boulder where he could sit in shade and await the stagecoach, and they were considerate enough to give him his rifle, canteen, pack, and supplies.
    “Will the stagecoach come through soon?”
    Henry glanced up at the sun and then down at Longarm. “Not long. If you die, will the white men come after us?”
    “No.”
    “How would they know that we did not kill you if you are dead?” Shonto asked, face furrowed deep with worry.
    It was a question that Longarm couldn’t answer. “I’m not fixin’ to die,” he carefully explained. “If I was going to die, I would have done it by now. Take my horse and saddle and go in peace. You have kept your promise, and now I keep mine.”
    Henry smiled and knelt down in front of Longarm so he could look the white man straight in his eyes. “You have a paper?”
    Longarm immediately understood what the Navajo wanted. “As a matter of fact, I do. And a pencil. I’ll write you a bill of sale so that if you are ever questioned about the mare and the saddle, it will say that I gave them both to you of my own free will.”
    “Good!”
    Longarm found the pencil and paper and scribbled out the bill of sale and gave it to Henry along with some good advice. “Don’t take that mare into Flagstaff orsomeone will want to take her away from you even if you show them what I just wrote.”
    Henry nodded with understanding.
    “And put the paper I just signed in a safe place where it will not get wet or damaged.”
    Again, the young Navajo nodded, before he climbed to his feet and hurried to the buckskin. Stroking the mare’s neck, he looked to be about the happiest man on earth. So obvious was Henry’s joy at owning the mare and saddle that Longarm could not help but feel good for a few moments. He would, of course, have to pay John Wallace a hefty price for the horse and saddle, but the Navajo shepherds had saved his life and he didn’t begrudge them a thing.
    The pair waved and rode off, leaving Longarm to sit in the shade of the rock and wait. He couldn’t imagine how upset Heidi would be when she saw how terrible he looked, but he’d face that hill to climb when the stagecoach arrived. Until then, he just wanted to take a nap.

Chapter 12
    The Flagstaff to Grand Canyon stagecoach was loaded to capacity when Heidi was helped on board by John Wallace. “Mrs. Long, I sure do hope that you’ll have a comfortable day,” the stagecoach owner said before he closed the door. “We’re full up and it’s gonna be a mite crowded on this run, but just settle in and enjoy the scenery.”
    Heidi sat down next to an older woman and smiled at her fellow passengers. On her side of the coach facing the rear was a gentle-looking older couple in their sixties who nodded in friendly greeting. Across from her sat a rough and dangerous-looking young man wearing two pistols, and beside him sat what Heidi decided was a mismatched couple. The