Kid Calhoun (42 page)

“Hold it right there, you little Injun bastards!”

There was only an instant to react, but it was enough for White Eagle to shove He Makes Trouble aside. The blast of the shotgun roared in their ears, but only a few pellets found flesh.

The burly outlaw made the mistake of thinking that two Apache kids were all the danger he faced. He stood up to fire the second barrel, which was when Dog ripped the man’s throat out. The second blast went off into the ground as the outlaw crumpled to the ground, his scream caught in his ragged flesh.

Jake was there almost instantly to call off Dog. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t be bitten himself, but as soon as Jake spoke to the animal, Dog calmly sat down beside the dead outlaw and licked the blood from his jowls.

Wolf’s face was fierce to behold, but his hands were gentle as he reached out to run them over the two boys. “How bad is your wound?” he asked White Eagle.

“My shoulder hurts a little,” the child replied.

Wolf turned his savage look on He Makes Trouble, whose eyes were still wide with fright. Before Wolf could say anything, Jake joined the Apache.

The Ranger’s brow arched when he realized Wolf was nursemaiding two Indian boys. The oldest one couldn’t have been more than nine or ten. “What are they doing here?”

“We came to help our mother,” White Eagle said in English.

“Jeff?” The boy’s hair was darker than Jeff’s had been, but his green eyes—Sam’s eyes—remained steady on Jake. Then Jake recognized Sam’s nose and mouth and chin. “Is it really you?”

“I am called White Eagle,” the boy said.

Jake could see Jeffrey was about to faint from shock as a result of his wound. He turned to Wolf and said., “We’d better get them out of here. Rankin will be sending someone up here to see what happened.”

“Come, He Makes Trouble,” Wolf said.

White Eagle had risen and started to walk on his own when Jake scooped him off his feet.

“I can walk,” the boy protested.

“Just indulge your uncle Jake, boy. We have to move fast, and this way we won’t leave a trail of blood for them to follow.”

White Eagle couldn’t argue with that. In fact, he wasn’t feeling well enough to protest too much. He laid his head on his uncle’s shoulder and let his eyes drift closed.

The two men made their way with the two boys to the far end of the valley where the pond was located. Dog followed them at a distance.

At the pond they encountered yet another newly recruited outlaw. They hid in the bushes while they tried to decide the best way to approach him.

“We can’t afford to let him get off a shot,” Jake said. “We don’t want to alert Rankin that we’ve come to this end of the valley.”

“Leave this to me,” Wolf said.

This time it was Wolf who took a misstep. A stone rolled, alerting the outlaw.

“Who’s there? Speak, damn you, or I’ll shoot!”

Wolf was in plain sight, but he remained perfectly still. He saw the outlaw’s eyes pass him by, then come back and light on him. “Dirty Injun!”

Jake had been watching the drama play out in front of him, but he still held Jeffrey in his arms. It was He Makes Trouble who provided the distraction that saved Wolf’s life.

The boy stood and shouted,
“Ahagake!”
Then he put his thumbs in his ears and waggled his fingers at the
white man. “Come and get me!” he yelled in Apache. “Your mother was a coyote bitch! Come and get me, you coyote pup!”

The outlaw was so startled that he made the mistake of shifting his gunsight off Wolf. The Indian’s arrow sang true, catching the outlaw in the heart. He dropped like a stone.

When Jake and the boys joined Wolf, He Makes Trouble kept his eyes aimed down. Once again he had disobeyed.

Wolf put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and said, “That was a warrior’s deed—to draw an enemy’s fire to save another. I am thankful for your courage, He Makes Trouble.”

“You are not angry with me?”

“I did not say that,” Wolf said with a sardonic smile. “You could as easily have been killed. I would have been sorry for that.”

He Makes Trouble beamed up at Wolf. “I will remember your words, Father. And try to do better.”

Wolf felt a thickness in his throat. It was pride in the boy. And love for him. And the hope that he would always be worthy of the boy’s adulation.

The sun was leaving the sky, which meant it was time for the two men to make their way back to the stone house. Jake had rigged a sling to keep Jeffrey’s shoulder immobile. The gunshot pellets still had to be removed, out that could be done later. For now, the bleeding had stopped.

“I want you to watch over White Eagle,” Wolf instructed He Makes Trouble. “You will stay here. In this you will
not
disobey me.”

“Do not worry, Father. I will do as I am told.”

Jake left Dog to guard the two boys while he and Wolf headed down the valley to rescue the women they loved.

* * *

Wat Rankin was furious. “How the hell did they manage to get into the valley without Fredericks seeing them?” he ranted. He had heard the shotgun blast and sent the Mexican to investigate.

“I do not know, señor,” Solano said. “But the one-eyed man is dead. I checked the entrance to the valley, and that man, he is dead also.”

“What about Pritzel? Is he all right?” Wat asked.

“I did not go to the pond, señor. I thought I would come here first.”

Wat’s eyes narrowed. The Mexican was right. If that Ranger had been in the valley most of the afternoon there was a good chance Pritzel was dead, too. There was no sense getting Solano killed by sending him into some trap.

“You’ll stay here with me,” Wat said. He looked around the stone house that he had thought a veritable fortress the first time he had seen it. In light of what he knew about the Ranger, he was beginning to think it could be more of a deathtrap.

Only he had his ace in the hole. The two women tied up outside were his ticket to freedom if anything went wrong. He planned to use them to find out where the gold was hidden. He had already ransacked the house searching for it, and he had searched the cave behind the house as well. But he had found nothing.

Night was falling. In the dark the Ranger would surely try to sneak up on him. Unless he could somehow make sure it was lighter outside than inside.

Wat turned to Solano and said, “I want you to gather up all the firewood you can find. I want to make a bonfire so big it’ll light up this whole end of the valley.”

“
Sí
, señor.”

Wat Rankin had done things the easy way all his life. It had seemed easier to find the gold that had
already been stolen than to rob another stage. It had seemed easier to kill Sam Chandler and take his wife than to find a wife of his own. Now it appeared the stakes were a lot higher than he had thought. There was a chance—a slight one—that he might not make it out of this valley alive.

Maybe he should have stayed an “honest” rancher. At the time, his plan had seemed so simple and so certain to succeed. Now it appeared he had lost not only the gold, but his chance to have Claire and Window Rock as well.

He looked at the two women tied up in front of the house. He might as well enjoy them while he had the chance. He took a knife from his belt and headed outside to cut them free.

Solano went about collecting wood and building the bonfire just as he had been told. When he had the fire burning brightly, he slipped away. That Rankin, he was
loco
. The deaths of the outlaws who had joined them weighed heavily on the Mexican. He did not like the odds of his leaving the valley alive.

Solano decided to improve them by leaving now. He would be waiting for whoever came out of the valley. And he would help himself to the gold if it had been found. He would survive where others had died. The Mexican did not worry about his betrayal of Wat Rankin. An outlaw learned to think of himself first, last, and always.

Solano was quiet as he made his escape. Silent as he had learned to be over the years as a wanted man. Silent as daybreak.

There was another, even more silent, who shadowed him.

Anabeth’s chin sagged onto her chest. Her tongue felt thick and dry. She was suffering desperately from thirst. “Why hasn’t Jake come to rescue us?”

Claire had no saliva to swallow with. “He’s probably waiting for it to get dark.”

“It is dark.”

“Not quite. There’s still some pink showing on the rim of the valley.”

A fire flared up in front of the stone house.

“Now what?” Anabeth asked.

“I’m afraid we’re going to find out soon enough.”

Wat had his gun out of the holster when he came to untie the women. “Don’t make any sudden moves. Take it slow and easy, and I won’t have to shoot.”

Wat hadn’t counted on how much the lack of water or freedom of movement would affect the two women. When he released the ropes, Anabeth sank to the ground. Claire knelt beside her.

“Get up!” Wat ordered. “Both of you!”

Claire snapped back, “She can’t get up, you fool! Can’t you see she’s exhausted. She needs water.”

“There’s water inside,” Rankin said. “You get her on her feet, or I’ll drag her by the hair. Take your choice.”

Claire could see that he meant it. She put Anabeth’s arm around her shoulder and struggled to her feet. She half-carried the younger woman into the house and sat her down at a chair by the kitchen table.

“Where’s the water?” Claire demanded.

Rankin gestured with his gun toward a barrel of water inside the door. “You can get her a dipper from there.”

Anabeth guzzled the water greedily, feeling stronger as her body absorbed the life-giving liquid.

“What are you going to do with us now?” Anabeth rasped.

Rankin looked at her burgeoning belly and wondered what it would be like to do it with a woman who had one in the basket. Would he feel the child when he thrust inside her?

He gestured with the gun toward the bedroom and then toward Anabeth. “You go on in there and wait for me.”

“No.”

He had hold of her hair so fast she didn’t have time to escape his grasp. He yanked her head backward, the gun at her throat. “When I say move, you move!”

Claire jumped to her feet. “Leave her alone!”

“You come a step closer, and I’ll shoot her dead,” he said to Claire.

“Rankin! I know you’re in there! This is Jake Kearney. I want to talk.”

Wat gave a shove that sent Anabeth flying toward Claire. When she landed, both of them lost their balance and fell in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Don’t move!” Wat ordered. He went to stand beside the window. He searched the edges of light outside the stone house trying to find Kearney. “Show yourself, Kearney.”

“I’m not that much of a fool, Rankin.”

“Where’s the gold, Kearney?”

“Let the women go, and I’ll take you to it.”

“I’m not that much of a fool, Kearney,” Wat said with a raucous laugh. “You better start talkin’ or I might just—”

“Wait! What if I trade myself for the women? How about it, Rankin?”

“You come out where I can see you with your hands up and maybe we can talk.”

“Don’t do it, Jake!” Anabeth shouted.

“Shut up!” Rankin backhanded her, but Anabeth came up spitting and fighting. Claire joined the fray. One of them grabbed Wat’s hair and yanked hard, the other clawed at his gunhand. For a moment it seemed as though they would overwhelm him. Then the gun went off.

Jake’s heart stopped when he heard the gunshot inside the house. “Kid! Claire!”

Then he heard a woman’s scream.

There was no thought to his own safety in Jake’s headlong rush toward the stone house. He had his gun drawn when he kicked the door open.

Jake froze where he was. Wat Rankin had his arm around Anabeth’s throat, his gun aimed at her head.

“Drop it,” Rankin said.

Jake dropped his gun.

“Kick it over here,” Rankin ordered.

Jake did as he was told. Rankin moved a couple of steps with Anabeth and kicked the gun into the next room.

“Where’s Claire?”

Rankin gestured with his chin to the corner.

Jake’s jaw tightened when he saw the huddled mass lying there. Blood ran down Claire’s face. “Is she dead?”

“Naw. Just knocked her out with the butt of my gun. She’ll have a little headache, but she’ll be just
fine. You, on the other hand, are not long for this world. Unless you start talkin’—fast.”

“The gold’s not in the valley,” Jake said.

“What kind of crap are you tryin’ to hand me?” Rankin snarled. “This is the perfect damned hidin’ place. That gold is here. I can feel it in my teeth.”

“It’s not here,” Jake repeated.

“Where is it, then?”

“Booth left a clue to the location of the gold when he died,” Jake said.

“What is it?”

“Back door.”

“That’s it? What’s it mean?”

Jake shrugged. “You’re welcome to try to figure it out on your own. Or you can let the women go, and I’ll tell you.”

Wat repeated the clue several times to himself, frowning all the while. The two words made no sense. Unless they had something to do with the hideout. Maybe Booth had left the gold at the back door to the shack before he had ridden around to the front. That must be it!