The Road to No Return

The Road to No Return

Luke Martin saw smoke rising from the log cabin, the sweet smell of death on the wind. He rode toward the smoke, his horse at a full lope. He pulled up short, climbed off his horse; he heard someone crying. “The cry became a wail; he listened carefully; the sounds came from behind the bush. Huddled there was a young woman. In between sobs she began: “Thank you for rescuing me. The Comanche killed my ma and pa. We have a tunnel; ma made sure I went down into the tunnel and hid. She covered up the trapdoor with a rug while pa shot at the Comanche raiding party. They set the cabin on fire and whooped loudly. I want to return home, I, ooh…” Once again she cried. Luke had no idea what to do with the sobbing woman: “What is your name? Mine is Luke Martin.” She choked on her tears: “My name is Laura Downy; this was the Downy farm until last evening.” He realized that they needed to leave before the Comanche raiding party returned. He heard the rustling of leaves, jumped on his horse, and pulled her up behind the saddle. They rode like the wind until he was assured they were safe. They stopped for the night; he asked if she were hungry. He stared for a moment at the disheveled young woman, her gingham dress torn and muddy. Luke had an extra pair of jeans: “Here, change into my shirt and jeans; they are warmer than your dress.” He handed them to her; she went into the rocks to change: “Thank you, Luke, thank you for rescuing me.” Luke was unsure of what to say. He carefully laid out his bedroll for her; he slept on the ground with a rock for his pillow. Both were exhausted from their ride and promptly fell asleep. Luke had no idea what he was going to do with her; they only had his horse and no money. This spelled disaster in his mind, but he could not leave her to the mercy of the elements. The closest town was three days' ride; riding double on Danny Boy, it would take at least six days. He fed and watered Danny Boy, his big sorrel horse. Laura was still unsure of Luke, but her common sense told her he would at least keep her safe. They sat in front of the fire warming up coffee. Luke began: “Laura, we need money, I think we should go to California. We need a covered wagon, supplies, mules. There is a stagecoach with payroll on it; the stage is due in the morning in Fate. We ambush it just after it leaves Fate, then we go to Six Shooter Junction. Luke continued: “Laura, your part is easy, just distract the driver and lookout by crying out for help with your horse; it threw you, then ran down the road.” Laura thought the idea through: “It sounds good, but just because we don’t have any money doesn’t make it right to steal.” Luke thought his idea was brilliant: “Look, Laura, if we don’t have money, we can’t buy a wagon or mules. We can’t go to California, to begin new lives. Now do you understand?” Laura felt helpless; Luke was attempting to help her in the only apparent way he could. She took a deep breath: “Luke, I will do it; you are right, we don’t have a choice.” Luke was elated; he knew once he reached California, he could disappear in the gold mines, strike it big.” He saw Laura in a different way also; she was beautiful, her auburn hair streaming down her back as if it were a cascading waterfall, skin like alabaster and huge green eyes. Yes, he thought she will make a good wife. Everything went according to plan; with their saddlebags full of money, they rode toward Six Shooter Junction. The first night they slept just outside of Six Shooter; just before daybreak they entered the town. There was a general store; there they purchased different clothes, then they went in search of Jed Holloway, a wagon master whose wagon train was leaving the next morning. Luke purchased the wagon and mules. They were ready when the wagon master cried out: “Forward ho the wagons!” Luke, reins in hand, clucked to the mules as the train moved out and toward New Mexico. The first night out, there was a square dance, with three fiddle players. Luke and Laura had a marvelous time, then they returned to their wagon to find it had been ransacked. Fortunately, they hid the stolen money deep down in the bottom of the wagon. Luke strode over to the wagon master: “Someone ransacked our wagon; there was not much to steal in it but a second harness, a mule whip, and a few tools like a hammer. I don’t understand it.” The wagon master gave his standard warning: “You get caught stealing, you will be forced to leave the wagon train and go out on your own. Is that clear?” The wind carried the sounds of coyotes crying. The wagon master knew those were not coyotes crying but an Apache war party circling close by: “Close up the wagons in a tight circle, men keep your shotguns and rifles close. I am waiting for our scout Clem Scott to report how close the Apaches are; it sounds like a war party. Laura felt fear for the first time since her Ma and Pa were murdered. Luke took her hand in his, his soft brown eyes willing her to remain calm. Clem loped into the camp: “Boss, them Apache are about three or four miles from here; it is a good-sized war party.” The sun began to set like a huge red rubber ball when the first war whoops came closer. The encircled wagons gave the men cover, as the women loaded the rifles and shotguns. Arrows began to fly into the wagons; men fired, some wounding or killing the Apache. The Apaches left with less of their braves than when the fight began. Laura, shot an Apache who was about to kill Luke, she cried as she committed the act. The battle over, everyone was exhausted, they had little time for rest, they were close to California. Luke turned Laura: “There is no going back now. “