The Gila Wars Read Online Free PDF

the trail than left behind with the company.
    â€œWell,” McNelly said, “what are you waiting for? Daylight’s burning.”
    * * *
    Josiah tied his bedroll on his horse’s saddle and gave it a final tug. Clipper, his Appaloosa, was a good, hearty horse who had seen Josiah through a lot of adventures. He was responsive and easygoing but could be stubborn in situations that were uncomfortable. Clipper would have been a good warhorse. Sudden noise, explosions, and gunfire had no effect on him. The horse wanted nothing more than to do as Josiah asked, or demanded.
    Having Clipper along would make it easier to slip into another identity. Hopefully this journey would be far shorter than the last time, when he’d had to walk in Zeb Teter’s shoes for four months.
    Scrap cinched the saddle on his horse. The mare was fast and, as far as Josiah as could tell, just as reliable to Scrap as Clipper was to him.
    â€œWhat’re your plans, Wolfe?” Scrap asked.
    The question surprised Josiah. Scrap was usually not so willing to take orders or settle so quickly into second place. “We’ll head to Arroyo first. It’s a little village not too far from here. It was settled by Mexican herders about the time the war broke out, but last time I was down this way, there were some Anglos there, hide traders as well as agents, working both sides of the border.”
    â€œTraitors you mean.”
    â€œCall ’em what you want, but it’s as good a place to start as any. I’m thinking these
gringos
riding with Cortina must have left some family behind.”
    Scrap started to say something, then restrained himself. “It’ll take me some time to slip out of this skin, Wolfe,” he finally said. “You know I ain’t got no use for Mexicans, thieves, or
gringos
.”
    â€œI know.” The bedroll was firmly in its place, and everything else needed was packed on Clipper, ready to go. Scrap’s bedroll was still on the ground, unfurled. “But this duty won’t be as long as last time. You don’t have as long to put away your own feelings about things. I’d as soon not get killed anytime soon because you’re not paying attention to what’s in front of us.”
    â€œI ain’t gonna get you killed, Wolfe. I done saved your life more than once.”
    â€œMy luck might be running out.”
    Scrap shot Josiah a hurtful look, his eyes dark with misgivings.
    â€œI’m joshing you, Elliot. Relax.”
    â€œEasy for you to say.”
    Josiah knew it was best to hold his tongue. He’d ridden with Scrap Elliot long enough to know he had a temper set on tinder, looking for a spark. The recent business in Austin had only made matters worse.
    He climbed up in the saddle, settled in, and sat staring down at Scrap, waiting. Clipper snorted softly and tossed his head to the right, then to the left, like he was trying to balance himself, readying to go.
    There were times like this, Josiah thought to himself, when it would have been useful to have had a younger brother or even a younger sister. But as it was, Josiah had been born an only child to parents who were now dead and gone. He had no natural knowledge when it came to dealing with someone you cared about but had to be firm with. All he had was instinct, lessons learned in the war as he found himself, over and over again, in situations that required him to take charge. And there was also a brief time in his life, after the war, when he came home to Texas and took up the position of marshal of his hometown, Seerville. Along with that duty, he’d had a small, growing family, at the time. Three daughters . . . all who were taken by the fevers, and his wife, Lily, left dead in childbirth. Josiah was left to put his life back together, and he’d found that opportunity in the remaking of the new Rangers, the Frontier Battalion and the Special Forces that McNelly commanded, a