Deadly (8 page)

Meg closed the door, her chest aching, her stomach rolling, knowing in her heart she was hurting her sisters, yet unable to stop herself. The bounty was hers to bring in, even if that meant leaving Ruby and Annabelle.

*

Two days later, Meg walked into the saloon where she and Ruby had first confronted Simon. She pulled her hat down low and tried to appear nonchalant and small, as she sat down at a table. Keeping her head down and her eyes lowered, she glanced around the room.

The same men were sitting at the bar. The same saloon girl strolled amongst the men, touching them, offering her pleasures. The bartender was tossing out beer and whiskey, the piano player was banging on the keyboard, and the poker players were slinging cards. It was Saturday afternoon, and Meg did her best to blend into the wall.

Her auburn hair was swept up into her hat, and her clothes were even more masculine than normal. Papa had always told them he tried to appear as if he belonged in whatever situation he found himself. Meg hardly felt as if a saloon was where she fit in best, but she’d been here before.

“Can I get you something to drink?” a young woman in a dress that had her bosom swelling over the top asked.

“Whiskey,” Meg replied, lowering the tone of her voice. She kept her eyes downcast, barely looking at the men.

The swinging doors slammed against the wall, and Frank Jones, the meanest hombre this side of the Rio Grande, stepped into the saloon followed by Simon. The two men were laughing, as they settled in at the bar to drink.

Meg took a deep breath, her lungs squeezing tighter than a corset. He was here. How did she arrest him and get him out the door? How did she get him away from Frank without taking a bullet?

Suddenly, she was filled with doubts, wishing Annabelle or Ruby was here to help her. They hunted as a team. She was only one mean-ass woman against two of the worst outlaws in the state. She could get the local sheriff, but it was doubtful he’d do anything. She was by herself, just like she’d wanted, but now she wasn’t quite so certain.

Or she could simply walk out the door and wait until the timing was better. Wait until Simon came out of the bar, unaccompanied and drunk. All the bravado she’d felt back in Zenith had disappeared.

For the next hour, she watched as Simon and Frank talked over a couple of drinks. Finally, just when she was beginning to think they were going to drink until the sun set and the moon rose high in the night sky, they stood and headed for the door.

She threw her money down on the table. Once they stepped out of the saloon, she rose and followed. Quickly, she walked through the swinging doors and out onto the wooden sidewalk. She glanced around looking to see which direction they’d gone, when she heard the click of a gun.

Her heart slammed into her throat and began beating like a galloping horse. Of all the greenhorn mistakes, she’d forgotten the first rule of safety—to check the sidewalk before walking into the open.

“Why, look who’s here,” Simon said.

Meg whirled around and stared into the barrel of Simon’s ugly six-shooter, dangling from his fingers, pointed at her midsection.

“Bounty hunter, Meg McKenzie,” he said with a laugh. “Where’s the good sheriff? Usually wherever you are, he’s not far behind. He’s been chasing your tail harder than most criminals.”

Meg shrugged, fear riding her hell-bent to nowhere. “The sheriff who let you get away? I left him back at the hotel. He’ll be along shortly.” It was a lie, but she needed him to believe Zach would be making an appearance any moment. That he was lurking around the corner just waiting on Simon to step out.

The outlaw took her by the elbow and started leading her down the street, past the saloon. Meg knew once they left the populated area she’d be at their mercy. She dug her heels in. “Whoa, boys, I’m not going anywhere with you two.”

Simon poked the gun into her ribs, while Frank removed her gun from its holster. He gave her a big ugly grin, blew her a kiss, and strolled down the street, leaving them behind.

“Where’s he going?” she asked, fear spiking through her like a big gulp of whiskey.

“He’ll be back,” Simon reassured her. “He wants to join our party tonight.”

She’d kill them both before she let them touch her.

Simon tugged on her arm, pulling her down the street. “You’re not dragging me across the country again. You’re not going to keep me tied up, while you and the sheriff play tag. No. This time, you’re going with me, and we’re leaving town now,” Simon said. “Where’s your horse?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. And I don’t have a horse.”

“Good try! But that’s your horse there. I recognize him from our last adventures together,” Simon said, yanking her with his gun poking in her ribs.

There was still something about this man. A twinge that tugged at her and made her think she was missing an important detail, but she didn’t know what. They stopped in front of her horse, and Simon pointed to the saddle. “Get on and don’t try anything funny, or I’ll shoot your horse.”

She shook her head, knowing she couldn’t let him see her attachment to the animal, or he was just as good as dead. “It’s not my horse’s fault you’re an outlaw.”

He smiled. “No, but it would be your fault if I were to shoot him.”

“Nah, horses can be replaced. But you…your heart is black, and I’d not have a second thought about putting a bullet in you.”

“That’s not very ladylike,” he said.

“I’m not a lady,” she responded.

Simon smiled and taunted, “True, but you don’t have a gun, do you?”

“Not yet,” she promised.

“Shut up and get on your damn horse,” he commanded, poking the gun in her ribs again.

Slowly she climbed on and considered gigging her horse and taking off, but he held her reins. She wouldn’t have minded dragging his body behind her if she’d known he would lose the pistol.

Frank rode back down the street with Simon’s horse. He handed the reins to Simon, and he climbed on. Without a word, Frank turned and rode off, leaving them alone.

“Where’s he going?” Meg asked, despair choking her, her pulse pounding, knowing she had to put up a brave front or she’d be lost.

“You sure are a noisy bitch. Guess you’ll just have to wait and see. Let’s go,” he said.

Simon rode beside her as they headed out of town, her fear escalating with each passing mile. This was why her sisters hadn’t wanted her to go off on her own. This was why they’d agreed to always have a second person. Now she wondered if they would indeed be burying her body or if Ruby and Annabelle would ever know what had happened to her.

And what would Simon do when they stopped? Kill her?

Meg sighed. She wouldn’t give up without a fight. She had too much to live for. Too many dreams she’d yet to accomplish. A town full of people she needed to show that she truly was a woman. A woman with feelings.

They passed tall pine trees, the birds calling from the branches, and a cool breeze blew against her neck. The sun slid down the sky, and darkness would soon surround them. When they stopped, she would make some kind of move. She had no choice, but to try to escape.

“Where are we headed?” she asked.

“To a place where we can dispose of the body,” Simon told her, smiling.

Her stomach tightened as revulsion rose, leaving her nauseous. He was trying to frighten her, and though she had on her brave face, her insides were quivering like she was cold.

“Why aren’t you at home, married with a man of your own, and raising a passel of kids?” Simon asked.

“Not many men want to marry a woman who dresses in pants and can outshoot and out ride them,” she said, trying to make herself unattractive in his mind. “You men want the pretty, petite women who dress, look and act frail. There’s not much that’s fragile about me.”

Simon laughed. “You remind me of my mother. She was never a delicate woman. In fact, she ruled our home with an iron fist. Still does.”

“Then what happened to you? Are there other brothers and sisters?” She needed as much information about Simon as she could glean from him. For once she escaped, she would return with her sisters to cash in his six-shooter.

“I’m the baby of four,” Simon said behind her.

“Is your mother still alive?” Meg asked. Fear growled like an angry serpent in her stomach at the thought of what would happen when they stopped.

“Oh, yes, she’s a smart woman, except when it comes to men. And she’s very protective of her children,” Simon said. “Don’t mess with her sons, unless you want to get hurt.”

“Even the ones who are in trouble with the law?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions,” Simon said, his voice harsh, ignoring her statement.

She could feel the anger radiating from him. Meg tried to act like it was nothing, but somehow she thought she’d just found an issue that maybe if she could learn who the man’s mother was she could exploit. “Just passing time.”

They rode along in silence for a few minutes, Meg thinking of ways she could escape. She knew that if they killed her, her sisters would make sure these men hung from a noose or they would extract their own revenge. But she didn’t want her sisters coming after them. She wanted to escape. Then she would pursue the longrider again. Only next time, she’d be even more cautious. Next time she wouldn’t make a greenhorn mistake.

“You asked me why I hadn’t married. Why haven’t you found a good woman and settled down?” she asked, not really caring. “You could be eating three cooked meals a day, instead of riding from town to town.”

He didn’t answer her, and she knew something she’d said had affected him, but which statement? Which question was churning in his brain, triggering it to fester until he broke?

The sun beat down on her, its rays feeling more like summer than spring, causing her to sweat. She wanted to lean over her horse and ride away as fast as she could, but feared he’d shoot her. And he still had her gun. Sure, she had another one in her saddlebags, but she liked the gun he’d taken. She’d do whatever it took to get the weapon back.

A horse whinnied and stepped out in front of them from the bushes, startling Meg. A rush of warmth and pleasure flooded her body, and she smiled at the sight of Zach, sitting on his horse, his hat low over his head, his gun pointed at Simon. God, she was so happy to see him.

“Sheriff,” Simon said laughing, as he pulled on his horse’s reins, halting the animal. “I’ve been expecting you. It seems anywhere Miss McKenzie is, you’re not far behind.” He looked between the two of them. “Is there something you need to tell me? Maybe a wedding being planned?”

“No,” Meg responded defiantly, yet still thrilled to see Zach. “I’m too much woman for him. I wear pants.”

Simon sat back in his saddle like he was greeting an old friend. He seemed relaxed, almost at ease, like he wasn’t afraid. Still, Zach had a gun pointed at his middle.

“Untie Meg’s hands and give her back her gun,” Zach demanded.

“And if I don’t?”

Zach shook his head. “Don’t give me an excuse. God, I’d like to shoot you right now.”

A smile lifted Simon’s lips. “Just asking.” He reached over and tugged on the knots that had kept her hands tied to the saddle horn. In a matter of moments, she was free. She shook her wrists, letting the blood flow back down into her digits.

“Now her gun,” Zach said patiently.

Simon pulled her gun out of his saddlebag and placed it in her hand. “Do you know how to use that thing?”

Anger churned inside her at the fear she’d ridden with for the last couple of hours. She clenched her fists, and when he leaned over, she threw a right punch, hitting him smack in the face.

Blood spurted from his nose. He stared at her with disbelief that she’d actually struck him. “Ow!”

She smiled. “Try me. I’d be happy to show you just how good a shot I am.”

His hand flew to his face. “Damn, woman, you can throw a punch. What did I do to you?”

Quickly, she shoved the gun back in her holster. “You held me hostage. I don’t do captive well.”

“And how many times have I been your prisoner?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t have a bounty on my head.”

“What now, Sheriff?” Simon asked, moving his horse away from her.

For the first time, she saw a glint of respect in his gaze. She doubted he would bother her again.

“Give me your gun. I’m taking you to jail. It’s what I should have done a week ago,” Zach said, reaching over his horse and pulling out Simon’s weapon. “We’re done playing games.”

It’s what I should have done a week ago?
What was he saying? It almost sounded like he’d deliberately not taken Simon to jail. Maybe the prisoner hadn’t escaped from Zach. Maybe Zach had never turned Simon in. But he was a lawman. Sworn to uphold the law.

Meg had never seen Zach so determined, so manly. She almost wanted to turn herself in, but that was stupid. She’d done nothing illegal.

Zach dropped down from his saddle and took Simon’s hands. He began to wrap them in rope. He tied him to his saddle horn, much the same way Simon had tied Meg.

Once Zach had Simon secured, he turned to Meg.

“What in the hell are you doing out here alone?” he asked. “It’s bad enough when you and Ruby are on the prowl, but alone? Do you want to die?”

“I’m earning a decent living,” she said, “and this is my prisoner.”

Zach and Simon both started laughing.

A sizzle of anger zipped along Meg’s spine. Did they think she was funny? She’d earned more in the last year than she had the entire time she’d worked as a seamstress. More than both of her sisters had earned as a waitress and a housekeeper. They could laugh all they wanted, but they were doing much better.

“Yeah, honey, you did real well with that one. I think I just saved your butt. You were tied up,” Zach said, climbing back on his horse.

She shrugged. “It was only a matter of time before I had the upper hand. I wasn’t afraid.”

Hell, who was she kidding? She’d been scared out of her mind, worrying what Simon planned for her. She’d known being alone would be tough, but this wasn’t what she’d expected.

Laughing, Zach rode over to her side. He grabbed her reins and pulled her horse in close. “Damn it, woman. What if I hadn’t followed you? What if he’d taken you to his hideout? What would you have done then?”