Lone Star 05 (20 page)

One of the beefy hardcases next to the shorter Mueller took the arrow in his shoulder and swerved around in the saddle before falling off. But that did not stop the four other men and Mueller. They ignored the stricken man and picked up their pace. Ahead, Ki saw that the gully widened into sloping banks. There, Thad pulled his animal hard right, and it lifted him up and onto level ground again. Jessie, the kid, and Ki followed his lead.

They all spurred their horses, counting on a desperate surge of speed to open the distance between them and the men. Mueller's men, not expecting this stubborn resistance, were taken at first by surprise. But they didn't allow the distance to widen much, navigating the suddenly flattened gully easily and staying within thirty yards.

Thad headed for a butte-like wedge of earth, hoping somehow to gain higher ground. He'd rather shoot down on his pursuers if it could be managed. He tagged around the butte and suddenly pushed his horse in an almost straight-up climb. The animal took the steep face surprisingly well. Thad looked back and saw the others following him, their horses valiantly pulling them up as well. They were atop the low butte and down off their horses, levering their rifles, by the time Mueller's men circled after them and came up against the nearly vertical wall of earth.

Jessie fired once at Mueller himself, a dwarfed form on his horse, especially in contrast to the big men he rode with. She missed. The Prussian ordered his men back, but they threw several rounds before retreating.

She turned to the bounty hunter, breathless. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“Christ, we rode right into them. If it hadn't been for Ki—”

“I saw them too late,” the solemn warrior said. “I expected them from our backs, not face to face.”

“We all miscalculated,” said Jessie. “I wish Marshal Scott were here. Thad, what do we do now?”

“You're asking me, the fifty-per-week hired help?”

“It's time to earn the five-hundred-dollar bonus.”

Thad couldn't help grinning. “Well, if you put it that way—I'll come up with something.”

Ki said, “We can't let them trap us here. We don't have enough water to hold them off for long.”

The kid, who was off his horse and sprawled down with the rest of them, put in, “Hell, give me up to them and they won't bother you no more. Me is all they want in the first place. And I wouldn't mind hooking up with Mueller. Hear he pays good.”

“Shut your face,” Thad barked.

Just then they heard a scream—unmistakably female. Jessie looked at the others, who were as puzzled as she. Who the hell—? They kept quiet for several minutes, waiting to see what Mueller had up his sleeve.

They heard the Prussian's measured voice echo across the pitted terrain, but they could not see him. “Miss Starbuck!” he called. “I think you'd better listen carefully to what I am about to say. Many lives are at stake here.”

“Just speak your piece,” she replied. She signaled for Thad and Ki to stay put as she edged forward to get a better look at the surrounding area. Still no sign of Mueller, though she could tell from his voice where he was located—behind a nearby hill. “I'm listening.”

“Please hold your fire. I'm coming out with something I want you to see. Agreed?”

“Yes!” she shouted impatiently. She nodded to the two men behind her. Her heart pounded frantically. What was the German up to? As she waited, Ki and Thad came up beside her.

“I just want one shot at Mueller,” Thad said.

“No,” Jessie reminded him. “No shooting until we find out what he's doing.”

“I'm coming out. Hold your fire.” Mueller stepped carefully out of his cover and into view. He had an evil smile of triumph on his scarred face. “If you shoot at me,” he announced, “you might miss and hurt the young woman. And you wouldn't want to risk that, eh?”

There beside him, his hand locked on her arm, was the Mormon girl Ki had fought to save from Solomon Morris's fists. Her brown hair was tousled and her round face tear-streaked. Her pretty eyes lifted to meet Jessie‘s, and there was terror in them, and hopelessness. She was a hostage now and Mueller's trump card, which he was laying on the table for all to see. This round of the game was his.

Jessie sensed that Mueller did indeed hold the winning hand. The look of horror on the Mormon girl's face told her all she needed to know. “What do you want, Mueller?” she asked.

“Well, if you had been willing to bargain before, I would have said simply that I want the prisoner. But now, since you have been so stubborn, I'm afraid I'll have to ask for more than that. I want you and your men—all of you—to lay down your arms and surrender to me. Otherwise this young lady will die. It is a simple proposition, really. And I'm certain you understand that I am very serious about it.”

“That bastard,” Thad said.

Ki agreed. “However, he does have the girl. She is the one married to the man I fought the other night. One of Mueller's riders. I have no doubt he will kill her as he promises.”

“Then what can we do?” Jessie asked, desperate now. She was locked into a corner with no way out—except Mueller's way. And the question haunted her—where had the girl come from? She could not imagine how or why the girl was out here in the middle of nowhere.

“We can't do a goddamned thing,” said Thad Hill disgustedly. “Not without endangering the girl.”

“Ki?”

“He's right, Jessie. We have no other choice.”

From behind them, Thomas Starbuck cackled insanely. “You dumb assholes—you got what was coming to you. You're trapped, and now you have to give me up! Lordy, what a sight—the three fighters for ‘justice' caught with their trousers down—pardon me, ma'am.” His words dripped with venom and he laughed with pure delight.

Even Thad did not respond to the kid's jibes. What was the use? He was right. Jessie had been outsmarted—and her luck had run out.

“Well?” Mueller shouted. “Am I going to have to kill the girl? I can do it very slowly, and I'm sure these men would be delighted to help me in that task. What is your answer, Miss Starbuck?”

It was one of the most difficult moments she had ever experienced. There was only one answer, but she could not bring herself to utter it. Finally, though, she relented. “All right, Mueller. You don't harm the girl, and we'll come down.”

“With the Starbuck boy!”

“Yes, with the boy.”

“And with your hands up, no weapons. You leave them there and my men will pick them up. Understood?”

“Understood,” said Jessie bitterly.

 

An hour later, Jessie, Ki, Thad, and the girl, whose name was Cynthia Morris, were bound with strong hemp ropes. And Thomas Starbuck, who had been so long a prisoner, strolled around the camp a free man. He swung jauntily past the others, shooting a wad of spit onto Thad's boot. The bounty hunter calmly spat back, a stream of saliva landing on the kid's pants.

The kid came closer, a crazed sparkle in his green eyes. He bent down and slapped Thad stingingly, the sharp crack of his hand on the man's face cutting through the air. Thad's face turned scarlet.

“I'm sorry I didn't kill you when I had the chance,” he said evenly, though the tension was thick in his voice.

“You should've taken advantage of me when I was all tied up, you stupid bastard. Ha! Call yourself a bounty hunter? You couldn't track your own grandma.” He strutted away to join Mueller's men several yards away with the horses and guns. He did not look back.

Mueller was conferring with his troops, congratulating them on a job well done. As the kid approached, he said, “And you, young Starbuck, I must thank you as well. You have been an invaluable ally in this fight. I am happy to have you with me at last.”

“ ‘Zactly what do you mean to do with me, now that you have me?” the young killer asked.

The Prussian chuckled, a guttural, threatening sound. “Not afraid to ask questions, are you? I like that in a man—an inquisitive mind. To tell you the truth, I have not yet decided what role you shall play. Rest assured, however, that I will find a way to keep you profitably occupied—for both our sakes.” Mueller ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. Even after a hard ride he looked neat and immaculately groomed. Somehow he managed to maintain his poise under the worst conditions. As he smiled, he looked right through the kid, sending a chill up the younger man's spine.

“You told me—” Starbuck began.

Mueller cut him off with an upraised hand. “No words need be spoken between us. I think we understand each other.” He sent a sidelong glance toward Jessie and the other prisoners, inclining his head meaningfully for Starbuck's benefit.

The kid nodded nervously. “Sure, Mr. Mueller. Sure. I get what you're saying. Don't worry about me. I'll do you a good job.”

“Yes, you will.” Mueller's cold assurance spoke more than his simple statement. “We both know what can happen if you do not follow my orders explicitly, do we not?”

“Yes, sir,” the kid replied, his own eyes downcast. Mueller had a stranglehold on him—as much as he did on the captives. It was not safe, at least not right now, to cross the Prussian. So Thomas Starbuck swallowed his medicine and kept quiet. But he was already plotting revenge against the demanding German. No man would keep him in rein for long, he vowed. Not even a man as wealthy and powerful as Mueller.

The kid went off by himself to brood, ignoring everyone else.

Mueller returned his attention to his men: Fagan and McKittrick, Solomon Morris, and the silent giant named Gene Bailey who was one of his personal bodyguards. Already forgotten was the man who had fallen to Ki's arrow earlier that day—since he was dead he was of no consequence, and hence forgotten. These were large, tough men, not given to much talk. They listened quietly as their leader—the man who paid them—outlined his plan in low tones.

Jessie and her fellow captives could not hear what was going on. She turned to Thad. “Like I said before, what do we do now?”

Thad Hill was angry—at himself. He blamed himself for the mess they had ridden into. He should have known better, should have scouted the trail ahead with more thoroughness. Now, trussed up like a holiday turkey, he felt furious and impotent. How could he have so senselessly endangered Jessie's life, and Ki‘s, to say nothing of his own.

“Oh, I'm full of ideas,” he said sardonically.

Cynthia Morris was weeping. Jessie tried to comfort her. “Hush,” she said. “Don't let them think they've got us down. Everything will turn out all right, we'll figure out something.”

“They're going to kill us. My husband—he'll kill me. Oh, I never should have left Skyler. What a fool I was!” The tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “If only I'd been an obedient wife. But I hated him so.”

“How did you get all the way out here?” Jessie asked her.

Cynthia collected herself and told how, after she had watched Ki defeat Solomon Morris, she decided to run away. She had a sister in Provo and would try to get there; so she stole one of Morris's horses when he left with Mueller, and headed east. She did not know that was where Morris himself was going—or that Jessie was riding in the same direction.

“I haven't had anything to eat for two days. I just kept riding—pushing that poor horse on. If I had known my husband was waiting for me—for you, really—I—I never would have even tried it. Oh, now I've ruined everything for you, too. I'm so sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” Jessie told her, trying to comfort the distraught Mormon girl. “We knew what lay ahead of us when we left Skyler. But I'll be damned if I'll allow Mueller to harm you.”

“That's so very kind of you,” Cynthia said gratefully.

“Thank me when this is all over,” Jessie said. She felt truly sorry for the girl. Her life before must have been bad enough, but this—no one deserved such brutal punishment. And whatever Mueller had in store for them, it was undoubtedly the cruelest punishment his fertile mind could imagine.

She shifted uncomfortably, her bottom sore on the rocky ground, her arms and wrists stiff and painful. Try as she might, she could not loosen her hands from the tightly wound rope. She noticed that the men were also quietly struggling with their bonds—but without success, either.

Raucous laughter erupted from among Mueller's hardcases. Their eyes turned to the prisoners. Mueller's face remained deadly serious. He came over to them.

“I have decided to stay here for the night. My men have ridden hard and they and their mounts must rest. We'll continue our journey in the morning. I'll have Bailey prepare a meal later. Until then, you're free to occupy yourselves as you wish.” A snide smile played upon his lips. “My people have waited a long time for this, Miss Starbuck. You have made me a very happy man.”

“Why don't you go to hell, Mueller.” It was Thad. He was boiling over with frustration. “You and your hired jackasses.”

Mueller's smile faded as he regarded the handsome bounty hunter. “Hard words, Mr. Hill. But you'll need more than words to get out of this one. It occurs to me that you are of no use to us whatever. We may be best served by leaving you behind. Alive, mind you. Perhaps with a bullet in each leg. How long do you suppose you'd last out here like that?”

Jessie shuddered at the image of Thad bleeding to death, his carcass being ripped apart by the birds and animals. But Thad brushed off the threat. “I don't give a damn what happens to me. If I do live, you'll regret the day you were born. That much I promise you.”