Jed's Wild Ride - A Pony Express Tale, part 2 (of 2)

August 1860

Nebraska Territory

The days that followed blurred into one relentless stretch of dust, sweat, and grit. Jed had barely caught his breath before he was back in the saddle, the relentless rhythm of the Pony Express dictating his life. But something about that night with the outlaws lingered in his mind, like a thorn buried too deep to pluck out cleanly.

A week later, as Jed approached a lonely stretch near Devil’s Backbone, Comet grew skittish again. The wind carried whispers, low, guttural echoes that raised the hairs on Jed’s neck. He scanned the jagged cliffs, where shadows seemed thicker than the dusk warranted.

A rifle shot cracked through the quiet, the bullet slicing past Jed’s ear with a hiss like an angry rattler. He kicked Comet into a hard gallop, the mustang’s muscles bunching beneath him, hooves striking sparks from the rocky trail. But Jed wasn’t outrunning this ambush, not this time.

A figure on horseback barreled down from the ridge, cutting Jed off. He skidded Comet to a halt, raising his Colt in one fluid motion. The outlaw, masked with a filthy bandana, froze, hands raised.

“I ain’t here to kill you, Pony boy,” the man rasped. “But I need that mail.”

Jed’s jaw clenched. “Over my dead body.”

The outlaw’s eyes narrowed. “That can be arranged.”

Before Jed could squeeze the trigger, another shot rang out, not from him, and not from the outlaw. The man jerked violently in the saddle, then slumped to the ground, a dark stain blooming across his chest.

From the shadows rode two women, their hats pulled low, one rifle still smoking. They guided their horses with the ease over the rocky terrain.

The first was tall, with a rifle resting casually across her saddle. Auburn hair curled from beneath a wide-brimmed hat, and her sharp green eyes missed nothing.

The second rode with a relaxed ease that belied the deadliness in her bright blue gaze, a six-shooter resting easy on her hip like it belonged there.

He knew them immediately. Fran O’Connell and Izzy de Laurent, the Sullivan Sisters.

Law women. Legends in these parts, near the town of Thistle Creek and the greater region of the mountain it lay below, Silvercrest Summit. Folks whispered about them in saloons and around campfires, stories woven with equal parts truth and exaggeration. But standing here, Jed realized no tale could do them justice.

Fran dismounted first, and she slung her rifle over her shoulder and approached, her gaze raking over Jed like she was sizing him up for a coffin.

Izzy stayed mounted, her hands in lacy black gloves, her fingers lazily spinning a silver coin.  She signed something to Fran. Jed had heard whispers that Izzy never spoke, but he thought it wasn’t true. Apparently, she really was mute.

“You sure know how to attract trouble, Pony boy,” Fran drawled, eyes flicking to the crumpled body in the dust.

Jed dismounted, his legs stiff from hours in the saddle. “Was managing just fine before you two showed up.”

Fran scoffed. “Oh yeah? Looked real ‘fine’ with that one about to ventilate you.” She pointed to the man lying in the dust. “Name’s Fran. This is Izzy. We’re with Sheriff Callahan’s outfit over in Thistle Creek. Law’s thin out here, so we stretch it where needed.”

Jed tipped his hat to both. “Yes, Ma’am. I’ve heard of you. I’m Jedediah Smith, rider with the Pony Express.”

“Figured,” Fran said, nodding toward the mail pouch strapped to his saddle. “We’ve been tracking that man for weeks. Part of a gang that’s been intercepting government dispatches.”

Izzy signed from her horse.

“Didn’t realize mail was such dangerous work,” Fran repeated for her.

Jed’s jaw clenched. “It is when it carries news that could start or stop a war.”

That got Fran’s attention. She exchanged a look with Izzy, something unspoken passing between them.

Fran crossed her arms. “What’s in that pouch?”

Jed shook his head. “Ain’t for me to know, and it sure as hell ain’t for me to tell.”

Izzy scoffed, but Fran’s smirk grew. “Good. Means you’re not an idiot.” She stepped closer, her gaze steady. “Look, Pony boy, we’re not here to take your mail. But whoever’s after you? They won’t stop. And I’m guessing you’d rather not die in the dirt for a message you ain’t even read.”

Jed glanced at the horizon, the last light fading into deep purple shadows. His instincts screamed to ride, but something about these women, their steady presence, their unflinching calm, made him pause.

Maybe, just this once, he didn’t have to outrun trouble alone.

“Alright,” he muttered. “But if you’re coming with me, keep up.”

Fran’s grin was sharp as a Bowie knife. “You’ll need to keep up with us.”

As they rode into the gathering dark, Jed had a feeling this was the start of something bigger than one message, one ride. This was a new trail entirely, one tangled with dust, danger, and the sharp-eyed law women. And he wasn’t sure if that thought comforted him or scared him more than any outlaw ever could.

Stay tuned for more adventures with the Sullivan Sisters as I update the blog! If you missed the first installment as Jed gallops across the desert, you can read it here.

After the dissolution of The Pony Express in 1861, Jed decides to settle down in Thistle Creek, where he gets up to some adventures with his new cowboy friends.

Teacake Tidbits - Historical Facts

1. Notable Achievements

   The Pony Express set a new standard for speed in mail delivery. One of its most remarkable feats was delivering President Abraham Lincoln's inaugural address from Nebraska to California in just seven days and 17 hours. This unprecedented speed demonstrated the potential for rapid cross-country communication, a critical factor during the tumultuous times leading up to the Civil War.

   
   

2. Cultural Impact

   The legacy of the Pony Express has been deeply romanticized in American culture, symbolizing the adventurous spirit of the Old West. Its stories have inspired countless tales of bravery and endurance, embedding the service into the national folklore as an emblem of resilience and pioneering courage.

3. The Telegraph Ended the Pony Express

   The completion of the transcontinental telegraph on October 24, 1861, rendered the Pony Express obsolete. Two days later, the company shut down, as messages could now be sent almost instantly across the country.

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If you missed part one, click here or find it below.