Ana Leigh (24 page)

She put the empty jar aside. “Not before I put your arm in a sling.”

“No.”

“Zach, a sling will keep your arm steady and prevent the wound from opening again. You can’t afford to lose any more blood.”

“I am not wearing any sling.”

There was an emphatic finality to the declaration. He picked up his gunbelt and buckled it on. “I’ll saddle the horses while you get out of those wet clothes.”

A change of clothing and a quick brush of her hair helped to make her more comfortable but did little to ease her worry over Zach. He had just begun to go through Tait’s saddlebags when she joined him. “Is there room in there for our wet clothes?”

“Sure,” Zach said. “I don’t see anything worth saving in here.” He shoved their clothing into one of the pouches, then untied the other one.

Suddenly he expelled a long, low whistle.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Look at this.” He pulled out a thick handful of greenbacks.

Rose gaped in surprise. “There must be hundreds and hundreds of dollars there!”

“This must be the money Tait stole from Rayburn’s safe.”

“What are you going to do about it, Zach?”

He shoved it back into the pouch. “Nothing I can do right now. Dammit, this is bad news.”

“Why? You didn’t steal it.”

“But Tait’s gang knows I’ve got it. I figured they might turn back when the rain started, because they had nothing to gain by following us. But now they’ll come after us to get this money back. Let’s get out of here. We’ve wasted valuable time.”

Chapter 24

Z
ach had minimized his condition so he didn’t scare Rose more, but he could tell he was getting weaker. The sooner he got to a doctor, the better. But if they stayed on this road, Tait’s gang would probably catch up with them in a few hours. They’d have to move up to higher ground, where there’d be better cover. It’d be slower and harder going, but there’d be less chance of being seen. He swung off the road and started to follow a narrow climbing trail, and once again Rose rode silently behind him.

A wall of rock formed the inside of the trail, with a sharp drop on the other side. Zach turned his head to glance back at Rose. Her bruised face was pale and tight-lipped as she hugged the wall, as far away from the treacherous rim as she could get. The poor kid was scared to death. She was too inexperienced to be on horseback on the slippery path, where the slightest false step or stumble could send her plunging over the side to her death.

He dismounted. “These horses need a rest. We’d best walk for a while.” Rose climbed down cautiously, and the moment she set both feet on the ground, she appeared to relax. “We’ll have to lead them up,” Zach said. When she nodded, he grabbed the reins of his horse and moved on.

The trail finally widened, opening onto a sprawling plateau covered with cottonwoods and ponderosa pines, thick clumps of mesquite, and clusters of huge granite boulders. He’d traveled this trail several times before and knew where to find shelter and fresh water, which would give them an advantage if they were followed. But the steep climb had drained even more of his strength. He needed to rest or he wouldn’t be much good to Rose or himself. Zach walked to the rim of the rocky ridge and gazed down at the flat plain hundreds of feet below. If only he knew how close their pursuers were . . .

His wish was immediately answered as four horseman rode into view below. They were too far away to identify, but it had to be the Tait gang.

“We’ve got company, Rose.” She came over to his side, and he pointed to the horsemen.

“How can you tell it’s them?” she asked.

“I don’t believe in coincidence. It’s them, all right.”

“Maybe they’ll stay down there and continue to follow the road.”

“They’d have to be blind not to see the spot where we left it. The ground was still soft from the rain, so there’ll be prints.” And if he hadn’t been so light-headed from loss of blood, he would have realized that at the time and erased them. Damn!

His suspicions were confirmed when the riders veered off the main road. “Let’s get moving. They should crest the ridge by dusk, so we’ve got a half a day on them at the most.” With his waning strength, would it be enough?

They stopped twice to rest and water the horses. Rose gathered up hazel nuts and stuffed them in her skirt pocket at one stop. Though he’d seen plenty of wild game in the area he didn’t dare risk the sound of a gunshot, and there wasn’t time to try to trap a rabbit or squirrel. So hazel nuts it would have to be.

Bright moonlight lit the trail by the time they reached the spot he’d been looking for. He didn’t dare push himself any more or he’d be useless the next day. He dismounted stiffly.

Rose rode up to him. “Are we staying here?”

“Yeah, there’s a narrow passage in that wall of boulders. It’ll give us good cover for the night.”

The passage opened into an area large enough for the horses, too. By now, Zach barely had the strength to lift the saddles off them. When he finished, he sank down on the ground and unbuckled his gunbelt.

Wishing they’d saved a few of the spiced apples, Rose emptied the nuts out of her pocket and came over and knelt in front of him. “Zach, are you okay?” Her voice was heavy with concern.

“Yeah, I just need a little rest. I’ll be fine in the morning.”

“I want to build a fire so I can check your wounds.”

“Too risky. You can do it tomorrow morning.” He reached out and gently caressed the bruises on her cheek. “How are you doing, honey?”

“I’m fine, Zach. They don’t even hurt anymore.”

“It’s a good thing Tait killed that bastard, or I would have.”

“I was so stupid, Zach. You tried to tell me from the start, but I wouldn’t listen to you. Now you’re hurt, and it’s all my fault.” Tears glistened in her eyes.

“I knew what I was doing, so stop blaming yourself. But tell you what, Rosie love—if you feel that bad, I know a way you can make it up to me after I get my strength back.”

“Can’t you ever be serious? I’m worried about you, Zach.”

“Didn’t I tell you we’ll get out of this?”

She buried her head against his chest. “Oh, Zach, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Rosie. Lord, how I love you.”

He put an arm round her and they lay back. She snuggled against his side and tucked her head in the hollow of his shoulder. Zach put all thoughts of danger and survival out of his mind and let himself enjoy the contentment of just being together for a while.

He thought Rose might have fallen asleep until she murmured softly, “Zach, can’t you feel the love in here?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you suppose this place is enchanted?”

“Could be. My dad and mom once stayed in this same spot, when they were being pursued by Indians. This could be the very place where they fell in love.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. That’s how I knew about this trail and this place. My mom told me about it when I was younger, and when I had the chance, I came and found the places she’d described to me. This is one of them.”

She sat up and began to gently stroke his head. The touch of her hand was a soothing balm. “What a beautiful story. I’d love to hear all of it.”

“Well, my dad was what you’d call a loner when he was younger. He wasn’t anything like my uncles, and from what I’m told, not much like his father, either. My Grandfather MacKenzie died at the Alamo fighting for Texas’s freedom.”

“So your roots have always been in Texas,” Rose said.

“Yeah, but I never got a chance to know my Grandma MacKenzie, either. She’d gone to the Alamo with my grandpa, but once the fighting got fierce, he sent his family back to the ranch. My Uncle Luke was two years old when his daddy died, my dad was one, and my Uncle Cleve was born six months later.”

“Oh, how sad.”

“Reckon it gets sadder. Grandma never remarried, and years later, while my dad and uncles were off fighting in the War Between the States, a band of Comancheros raided the ranch and killed Grandma and my Uncle Luke’s first wife. Dad and my uncles spent the next few years tracking down the Walden Gang that did it.”

“Was your mother born in Texas, too?” Rose asked.

“No, Mom was born in Georgia. Her name was Garnet Scott. She was a widow and had come West on a wagon train after the war. That’s how she met Dad.”

Zach always felt a rise of pride whenever he thought about his father. “My dad can read a trail better than most men, so he did a lot of scouting back then. Some for the army, but mostly for wagon trains.”

“So he was the scout on the wagon train your mother was on. Oh, how romantic!” Rose exclaimed.

“No, unfortunately. Had he been, maybe everyone on that train wouldn’t have been massacred.”

“I don’t understand. Didn’t you say that’s how your parents met?”

“Yeah, but at the time, Dad was following the trail of a couple of members of the Walden Gang. He was up on the high ground here and saw a lot of Indian sign, and when he spied the wagon train down below he figured the Comanche were going to attack. He rode down and warned them to turn back, but nobody paid any attention to him except my mom. When he left, she followed him back up here and he had no choice but to take her with him. They still ended up having to fight off Comanche and a couple bad hombres.” He chuckled warmly. “Mom told me she was determined to marry him from the start, but Dad had different ideas. By the time he got around to admitting how much he loved her, I was already a bun in the oven.”

Rose smiled. “They sound wonderful.”

“They are.”

“Is your mother pretty, Zach?”

“Can’t say I ever gave it much thought, ’cause she’s always been beautiful to me,” he murmured, yawning. “You remind me a lot of her, Rosie. She’s feisty and outspoken—and she’s got red hair, too.”

“And your father?”

“Just the opposite. Dad’s reticent, with a mind of his own. But when they’re together, they’re a single unit. They worship each other.”

“And you worship them,” she said, and pressed a light kiss on his lips.

“Reckon I do. Can’t think of a time they ever gave me cause not to.”

“Zach, I don’t understand something. If you love and respect your parents so much, how can you pursue the life you’ve chosen? I can’t believe they approve of it.”

He’d never have a better opening to tell her the truth about himself. “That’s what we’ve got to talk about, honey. You see, honor and duty have always run deep in my family. That’s the code I was raised to respect.”

“Duty to what, Zach? Country?”

“Ah . . . service.”

“Service to your country. Of course, I understand.” She cuddled closer.

“You’re forgetting my family are Texans, Rosie. We also hold a duty to Texas.”

“Really, Zach, you talk as if Texas is a separate country.”

“We tend to look at it that way; that’s why we call ourselves the Lone Star State. When we won our independence from Mexico, we had to protect ourselves against all kinds of enemies: Indians, Mexicans, bandits. So the Texas Rangers were formed to protect our borders and uphold the law.”

“So this duty and service you’re referring to is to the Texas Rangers.”

“That’s right, honey.”

“Are you trying to tell me that your father is a Texas Ranger?”

“He was. So were my uncles and a couple of my cousins.”

She chuckled. “That must make it interesting when you have a family gathering. Lawmen on one side of the room; you on the other.”

“Well—I reckon we’re all on the same side of the room.”

“What do you mean?”

Zach took a deep breath.

“I’m a Texas Ranger, Rosie.”

She started to laugh. “Next you’ll tell me Jess Tait was one, too.”

“No, but Will Grainger was. We were working together.”

She looked at him as if he’d just slapped her in the face. “You’re serious. You really
are
a lawman.”

“I wanted to tell you a dozen times, Rosie. To warn you about Rayburn when I began to find evidence that linked him to the rustling, but—”

“Don’t say another word. Not now, Zach.” She turned her back to him.

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Honey, you’ve got to believe me: I never wanted to lie to you.”

“I don’t know what to believe, Zach. And I don’t want to hear any more right now.”

“If you believe anything, believe that I love you, Rosie.”

She couldn’t breathe. The shock of his words was as painful as the physical aches she’d sustained. Her heart felt weighted with anguish. They had vowed their love to each other. How could he have withheld such truth from her? Betrayed her? She closed her eyes and let the silent tears slide down her cheeks.

Rose felt the warmth and opened her eyes. It was lighter in the chamber but there was no sunlight; long shadows deepened the entrance. The heat came from Zach, who was curled against her.

She felt his head and he opened his eyes. They were dulled by fever.

“Zach, you’re burning up.”

He sat up slowly. “Yeah, I know. I just need a drink of water.”

Even his voice sounded weak. She shook her head. “You need more than water, Zach. You can’t go anywhere with that fever.”

“There’s a stream nearby. Once I get some water, I’ll be okay. Let’s get going.”

“Not before I change those dressings on your wounds.”

“You can do that at the stream.”

Her heart ached for him when he struggled to his feet. For several seconds he leaned against his horse, then bent down and labored to swing the saddle off the ground. She hurried over to give him a helping hand.

When they were ready to leave, Rose reached into her pocket and offered him a handful of nuts. “At least eat these. You can do that while you’re riding.”

After riding in a downpour, sleeping on the cold ground in wet clothing, no medicine to treat two bullet wounds, and blood loss followed by another day of no rest, it was a miracle that only the entry wound on his shoulder had become infected. But the infection looked bad.

Rose wanted to build a fire so she could try to draw out the infection with hot compresses, but Zach refused. She didn’t know what to do. He
had
to have immediate medical attention, yet going on was just weakening him more.

By midday his eyes looked glazed, and he was slumped forward in the saddle. She wasn’t even certain if he knew where he was going.

Near dusk, when they finally stopped to rest the horses, he was so weak that he fell to his knees when he tried to climb back into the saddle.