Hell for Leather

“You done hitting me with rocks?” asked Zeke, but the girl said nothing, “I’m not going to hurt you.” She didn’t seem to believe him, but there was nowhere to run. Zeke looked her over. She was about nineteen years old, by his guess. Her dress matched the color of the fabric he’d found near the tracks. She was filthy and her brown hair fell in disheveled curls onto her bare shoulders. Her dress had been expensive at one time, now it was torn and tattered. He examined her neck for the locket. The girl noticed his gaze shifting to her throat and tried to cover herself up.

“Relax.” said Zeke, “I wasn’t looking at your chest. I mean, I was, but not for the reason you think.” He was flustered, “I’m looking for someone.” he blurted out by way of explanation. “What’s your name?” The girl said nothing. “You thirsty?” he asked, holding out his water skin. Her eyes focused like a hawk’s on the water, but she would not move forward to take the skin from Zeke’s outstretched hand. “Here.” he said, tossing it to her. She snapped it up and made to inhale the entire thing. “Don’t drink like that.” admonished Zeke, “You’ll vomit. Take small sips or you’ll end up wasting it.” The girl did as she was told and took little sips like a bird. “You want to tell me your name now?” The girl made no response. “My name is Ezekiel, but you can call me Zeke,” he sighed, “if you ever start talking. Now listen, I’m looking for the raiders that attacked the train. They took a girl with them. I need to find her. Did you see anything? Or hear anything?” She lowered her eyes and shook her head. “Well, follow me back down to my horse. I can give you some food and point you in the right direction, but then I have to get going.” The girl made no move. “You are hungry, right?” She looked him in the eye with her hard gaze but made no sound. “Follow me or starve.” he said and headed back down the hill. The girl stood still for a moment, then headed after him. Once they reached Zeke’s horse, he fetched the beef jerky from his saddlebag and took a bite as the girl watched.

“Mmmmmm.” he said, chewing as she watched intently, “Want some?” He extended his arm. As she stepped forward, he rescinded the offer. “First you have to tell me your name.” The girl took a moment to gather herself.

“Helen.” she finally answered. Zeke tossed her a hunk of the jerky and she tore into it, most unladylike.

“Where you from, Helen?” In between gargantuan bites and swallowing, Helen found a second to answer him.

“Boston.” Zeke chuckled. “What’s so funny?” she wanted to know.

“It’s just strange,” he said, “meeting a Yankee girl all the way out here. Where were you headed?”

“California.”

“You and the rest of the world, it seems.” Zeke took a brown cigarillo from his pouch and lit it. “Well, Helen from Boston,” he said, “I need to keep going. There is a girl I need to find. She was on that train with you. There’s some tracks over yonder that head west, but the nearest town is back east. While I don’t like sending you alone, I ain’t got much choice.”

“You mean to leave me?” Zeke chuckled again.

“You Boston girls sure do talk funny. Listen, I don’t want to leave you alone, but that band of raiders has a four day head start on me. Now they’re hauling a load of women and that’s going to slow ’em down a piece, but I ain’t leaving nothing to chance. I need to chase ’em, and quick. You’ll only slow me down.” Helen stepped closer to him.

“Please don’t leave me here.” Her eyes begged in ways her words could never manage, “I’ve been up in that cave alone for days. I can’t bear the thought of being alone again.” Zeke made no reply, “Please. I don’t weigh much. Your horse will scarcely notice.” Zeke weighed his options. If he left her, chances were, she would die. He knew that much.

“All right,” he finally relented, “but if you’re coming with me, we need to change your appearance.”

“Why?”

“Because we might come across some unsavory characters out here and if we do, you need to look like you belong. Right now you stick out like a…” Zeke couldn’t think of a good example, “Well like a girl wearing a blue dress in the middle of Indian territory.” It was Helen’s turn now to consider her predicament.

“Very well.” she said, “What am I to do?” Zeke removed a bundle from his horse and gave it to Helen.

“Put these on.” he said. Helen looked around.

“I shall need privacy.”

“Privacy is a luxury you can’t afford out here.” She made no response, but simply stared at him. “Aw, Hell.” He finally said. With a huff, he unrolled his blanket and stomped over to a low branch in a nearby tree. Draping it over to form a curtain, he turned back to her, “Will that suffice?” He asked without patience.

“Yes,” she said, “It will. Thank you.” She stepped gingerly behind the makeshift curtain and began to disrobe. “I must say you are quite the gentleman.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Most men would take advantage of a woman in my situation.”

“Is that why you hit me with a rock?”

“I’m dreadfully sorry about that.” She tossed her petticoat over a branch, and after some time, her corset. She undid the bundle and began searching through it as if something were missing. “There’s been a mistake.” She said, “You gave me the wrong clothes.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“There is nothing here but a man’s shirt, breeches and leather slippers.”

“They’re called moccasins. Put ’em on.” Zeke spat on the ground.

“I will not. You honestly expect me to wear breeches?”

“I expect you to do what I tell you.”

“What if I refuse?” At that, Zeke stormed over to the tree causing Helen to back away in terror, holding the new clothes against her. Angrily, Zeke ripped her dress and underthings from the branch, threw them on the ground and set them ablaze.

“Get this straight, missy,” he growled at her, “there ain’t gonna be no refusing out here. Understand? I don’t want to leave you out here but if you get between me and what I’m after, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” Helen was taken aback but gathered herself quickly.

“I’ve changed my mind.” she announced, “You’re no gentlemen. You’re a brute.”

“Get dressed.” was Zeke’s curt reply.

At long last, Helen emerged from behind the tree. The clothes were much too big for her and she looked rather comical. In her hand she carried the high, lace up boots she had been wearing.

“I am keeping these.” she said defiantly.

“No, you’re not.” Zeke was in no mood to argue. Helen gestured angrily at her burning dress.

“You’ve already burned my favorite dress.” she said, “You are going to take away my favorite boots?”

“Those boots,” said Zeke dismissively, “leave very distinctive tracks, and those tracks ain’t common out here. I told you, you have to blend in. That means everything.” She and Zeke stared each other down, neither one budging.

“I would think a cowboy would appreciate the need for good boots.” Zeke had no retort for her logic. Unceremoniously he undid a saddlebag and held it open for her as she placed the boots inside. “Thank you.” She said.

“Don’t mention it.” Zeke replied mirthlessly. He motioned to the saddle but Helen merely stared at him. “Well?” he said, “Sometime today would be nice.” Helen eyed the stirrups. They seemed far higher than she could manage to lift her legs. At least now the breeches made sense.

“I don’t suppose you could help me.” she smiled. Zeke sighed and knelt beside the horse, offering his other knee for her to stand on. “Thank you.” she said as she mounted. Zeke swung his leg up and settled in behind her. He was rather uncomfortable sitting on the brim of the saddle, but it seemed ungentlemanly to push a lady up against the pommel. He hoped she appreciated his chivalry.

The two of them managed a decent pace. Though he would hate to admit it, Zeke was glad to have the company of a woman. As they rode along with her sitting in the saddle in front of him, his sharp senses could still detect the faint scent of fragrance in her hair even if it had been days since she’d taken a bath. Zeke was content to ride in silence, especially since his mind was on the task at hand. The trail was pretty obvious and from what he could surmise, all of the women were yet alive. Still, he kept an eye out for anything that would indicate otherwise.