Mary Connealy (111 page)

“You wanted her—now you’ve got her.”

Sid glared at Harv. Then his eyes wandered to the still female form in the corner. She lay with her back against the wall. Her hair had mostly fallen out of its braid and now covered her face in long white curls. She had her wild woman dress on, the deerskin she’d been wearing when they’d taken her after the massacre. It even had stains on it from Harv’s blood.

Sid itched for that woman. Seeing her lying there unconscious gave him a feeling of such fierce power that it was all he could do not to pull his six-gun on his gang, drive them out of the house, and have her to himself.

None of them looked eager to give her up.

Cool-eyed Boog wasn’t a man Sid could read. So maybe he didn’t care, but that woman was a feisty little thing. They’d watched her attack Harv after the massacre. Subduing her, dominating her, appealed to Sid, and he couldn’t believe it didn’t appeal to every man.

“We don’t have time to fool with the woman.” Nothing about Boog’s voice gave anything away.

“I wouldn’t have grabbed her if she hadn’t come right to the door,” Harv said. “I didn’t have time to get out. I knew if I didn’t get her under control, she’d run for help and bring a posse down on our heads.”

“She wouldn’t have run for help.” Sid wanted to backhand Harv. “She’d have carved another notch in your face. You hit her because you were scared, not because you were afraid of the law.”

The lump on the back of the wild woman’s head told Sid that Harv hadn’t fought fair. Not even with a woman. He’d come up behind her, knocked her cold, and tied her up while she was unconscious. Harv had a wide coward streak.

Sid had been around enough cowards that he knew to watch his back. The four of them sat cross-legged in the first room of the big house. They needed to get rid of the woman somehow and then turn to hunting Wade, but no one stepped forward and volunteered to pull the trigger, mainly because she was too beautiful a woman to want dead. “Boog, I want you and Paddy to ride toward the south.”

“Now?” Paddy looked out the window. There was little light left, and the storm kept threatening, though it hadn’t dropped any rain yet.

“Yes, now. This is our chance. Wade headed that way and we need to finish him.”

“Who’s gonna take care of that wildcat?” Boog jerked his head in their captive’s direction.

“I owe her. I oughta do it.” Harv looked at her and wiped his mouth.

Sid nodded. It suited him to let someone else do it. Not that he was squeamish, but he’d never killed a woman before. No sense starting now if Harv would do it. “If you can catch up to Wade and kill him, and Harv finishes the girl, we only have Mort left. We’ll meet up in the morning and have that ranch in our hands by tomorrow night.” Thinking about the land grab gave Sid more pleasure than thinking about the woman.

“Bury her deep, whatever you do.” Boog stared at the woman’s still form. “Women are mighty scarce out here. Some folks get mighty riled when someone mistreats one of ’em.”

“I’ll bury her deep.” Harv’s eyes shifted between Sid and the woman. He looked like a rat, making filthy plans.

Boog stood. “Let’s get it done, Paddy.” Something about the tone of his voice told Sid that Boog wanted no part of killing this girl. But as usual, Sid couldn’t be sure.

Grumbling and looking at the woman with no attempt to disguise his unhappiness with the assignment, Paddy stood and left the room with Boog.

Sid relaxed when he heard the hooves of their horses pounding away down the trail.

“You know I don’t want her dead, Sid.” Harv stood.

Sid got to his feet, not wanting Harv towering over him. “You want her dead in the end, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Harv rubbed his finger over the scar on his chin and stared at the unconscious girl. His eyes flashed as he touched his wound. “But I want her to beg to die.”

Sickened, Sid was tempted almost beyond control to put a bullet in his saddle partner. But if he did, the woman would still need killing. If instead Sid turned his back, walked out into the night, Harv would do his worst and Sid wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. Harv’s knowledge of where that gold was tipped the balance, even if getting to the treasure seemed impossible.

“I’m gonna go looking for a deep hole to dump her body in.” Sid turned and strode from the room, forcing himself to hurry before he did the foolish things that were rattling around in his head. He almost ran off the porch, pushing himself to make a clean break from his hunger to hurt Harv, hurt the woman, hurt the whole world. It was like a thirst for whiskey and it rode Sid harder all the time.

Leave the woman for Harv.

As Sid walked away from the Griffin place, he rounded the side of the house and looked back. He could see into the room. The last traces of the setting sun found their way between two trees and the billowing clouds and sent a single shaft of light into that room. Sid saw Harv staring at the woman, and Sid stopped. His heart seemed to beat at half the speed and twice the strength as Harv slowly advanced on the woman. Swallowing hard, Sid watched Harv bend down, out of sight, but Sid could picture Harv’s filthy hands reaching toward all those miles of golden hair.

With a grunt of self-contempt, Sid turned away toward the corral to saddle his horse and ride away. Give Harv some time then come back and everything would be taken care of. The wild woman who could identify Harv and bury them all would finally be dead.

A
bby’d be fine. Wade hated that she was out here alone. But she was tough. She’d take good care of herself.

Her only real trouble would be loneliness.

Same for him.

Wade thought of that long, bitter cold winter in his shack. The cold was relentless and brutal, but compared to the loneliness, it was nothing. Wade had needed that time. Maybe Abby needed some, too, but it was a hard way to live, and Wade wasn’t going to even consider leaving Abby alone. She needed him whether she knew it or not.

Having Red and Cassie along cheered Wade up. With his friends along, nothing could go wrong. They’d hunt for Abby however long it took, and in the meantime, she’d protect herself, probably better than Wade could.

The trail to the Griffin place wound through woods and mountains. It was too narrow to ride abreast, so they strung out single file with Red leading, Cassie going next, and Wade bringing up the rear.

The rain was holding off, but the night was wild with wind and scudding clouds playing peekaboo with the moon and lightning and thunder in the distance.

Wade had taken Susannah in his lap, and the little one had chattered away for a long time before she’d passed out in his arms. She went from fully awake to limp between two sentences. It would have scared him if he hadn’t seen her do it so many times before.

“She’s sleeping,” Wade whispered.

The wind was at his back and carried his voice over the thrashing limbs overhead and the soft
clop
of horses’ hooves to Cassie. She looked back and smiled. Her teeth gleamed in the twilight.

They kept their horses at a fast walk. In the darkness, pushing their mounts would have been dangerous.

Wade saw a glimpse of the moon overhead as the clouds rushed across the sky. A jolt of lightning lit up the east. The thunder sounded next, but not for a long time. The storm might be going to the south. Wade could only hope.

Red’s fist went up in the air, and even in the dark, Wade knew there was trouble. He goaded his gelding forward, coming alongside Cassie on the slender ghost of a trail. He caught her reins just as Red glanced back. Red jerked his chin, giving Wade his approval, and Wade pulled Cassie’s horse toward a barely existent break in the surrounding woods.

“Wade, what—”

“Shh.” The single sound brought Cassie’s question to a halt.

The woman was too obedient for her own good, but right now Wade was thankful for it.

Red’s horse disappeared off to the left of the trail. Wade went right, wishing fiercely Red didn’t have Michael strapped on his back. But there wasn’t time to snatch the little boy. It was just as well. Red and Cassie would protect their children, leaving Wade free to handle whatever trouble was coming.

The only problem was Wade wasn’t half as good at handling trouble as Red.

When he had Cassie well hidden behind a nearly impenetrable line of ancient oaks, Wade helped her down from her horse and urged her behind the massive trunk. He leaned inches from her ear. “Take Susannah and stay here.”

Cassie was sweet and pretty. She was a city girl born and bred. But she’d lived in the West for a few hard years, and Wade saw every one of those years in her knowing eyes as she took her little girl.

“Red’s got Michael, so I need to handle this. You make sure you and Susannah are safe.”

Cassie caught Wade’s sleeve. “Be careful.”

With a quick nod, Wade left his horse with Cassie and inched forward until he saw the trail through the brush and low-hanging limbs. He wondered where Red was, knowing his friend wouldn’t hide from trouble. But the man had a baby with him, and protecting that child had to come first. Wade prayed Red thought of his son first and stayed out of the action. Wade was the one without a child. He was the one who should take the risks. Even if he was killed protecting his friends, he’d leave no one behind to mourn. Not even Abby, apparently.

On that sad thought, he drew his gun with a soft
whoosh
of iron against leather, a sound he could barely hear in the rising wind. He waited, prepared to give his life for his friends. The trees danced and swayed, reaching out for him like skeletal fingers clawing at his neck. A night for danger and nightmares. A night for fear.

“Whom shall I fear?”

He wasn’t afraid of any harm to him. Instead, he feared for Abby in danger. And that his friends might come to harm. His own life he would gladly, fearlessly lay down to protect them all.

As he prayed in the howling wind, Wade heard the soft whinny of a horse.

“He could be anywhere.” A man’s voice, high with nerves, carried over the sounds of the approaching storm.

Iron jingled. Horses’ hooves clopped quietly. An eagle screamed high overhead where it soared, playing on the downdrafts.

Another voice, lower, was audible, but Wade couldn’t make out words.

“She shoulda been mine!” The high-pitched voice sounded again. “I’d’ve liked to get my hands on all that long white hair. I’d’ve tamed the wild outta her.” The voice droned on, complaining, making sickening suggestions. The man raved on and on about a wild woman with white hair. It had to be Abby. Some of the words were lost when the wind struck just so and carried them in another direction.

Wade didn’t need to hear them. He’d heard enough to know they had her prisoner somewhere.

“I say we go back.” That whining voice started again. Wade recognized it, but he wasn’t sure from where. “Just ‘cuz she cut Harv don’t make her his. I want that wild woman.”

“I don’t care what you want.”

Chills of terror almost drove Wade out onto the trail, gun blazing. He fought a terrible battle with his desire to charge out to confront the men. Wade knew better. Getting himself killed was no way to save Abby and no way to protect Red and his family. But still he felt his legs tense to jump forward. His hand tightened on the butt of his gun, ready to open fire.

God, they have her. Protect her, Lord. Help me find her. Get us there on time.

Two men here at least, and they’d left Abby behind with someone else. Could it be four men? Could it be the ones who’d attacked Abby’s village? Knowing how vicious those men were made it harder to stay hidden.

The voices were closer. A bend in the winding trail hid the riders, but Wade knew they’d appear any second. He swallowed hard. He gripped a low branch of the tree he knelt behind, partly to hold himself in place, partly so when his chance came he could use the limb to catapult himself onto the trail.

Wait. Wait.

The wind held him in place as if it were the hand of God. He itched to move, to act, to fight and punish, but he controlled himself, biding his time.

The lightning flashed so often the trail was lit almost constantly. An especially bright slash lit up the trail enough that Wade caught sight of a horse’s nose just as it appeared from around the bend. He leveled his pistol. He wouldn’t shoot, though. Instead he’d charge in once they were closer, get the drop on them, and make sure they were disarmed, with Red backing him up but staying hidden well enough to protect Michael and make sure they survived for Cassie’s sake. Wade would stop them, and they’d find out where Abby had been taken. Repeating that in his head gave him hope that he could do the right thing when he was killing mad.

Suddenly, to his left, a noise scared Wade into nearly jumping out onto the trail. A swift hand grabbed his arm or he might have run forward right into the men’s path.

“It’s me. Hang on.” Red appeared by Wade’s side on foot. It took a second for the lightning to show that Red didn’t have Michael. He must have circled back, crossed the trail, and given Michael to Cassie.

Wade hated the thought of Red risking his life, but the odds had just gotten a lot better.

Their eyes met. Then Red nodded at the approaching men. “Now.” They rushed the trail.

“Stop right there or I’ll shoot.” Red cocked his gun, the sound clear and chilling in the stormy night.

The men shouted. One of their horses reared up.

Wade rushed the riders, eager to get his hands on them and beat the truth out of them, to find Abby. He caught the closest man and, from the cry of alarm, knew he’d gotten the man who’d uttered such horrible threats against Abby. Jerking the man to the ground, Wade snatched at his holster and relieved the villain of his gun.

The other horse landed four-legged, and Wade saw its back was bare. The quiet man was gone.

Wade yanked the man he held to his feet and used him for a shield, searching in the darkness for the other man. There was no sign of Red, either.

“Let go!” his prisoner shouted then began flailing his hands and feet.