No One But You (26 page)

The land that lay before him was rock-strewn and veined with dry streambeds carved by swift running water. Covered by a combination of dry grass and isolated stands of oak and tangled vines, it was a perfect place for Wallace to hide; he could change thickets every day to avoid detection. The lengthening shadows made it hard for Salty to find the trail. He thought he knew where Wallace had come down from the hills, but he couldn't find anything to tell him where he had gone. He was stymied.

For the next half hour he searched one thicket after another. During that time, the evening shadows progressed from twilight to darkness. The decision became whether to stay for the night or go home and come back tomorrow. He hadn't brought any food, water, or his bedroll; he'd have to sleep on bare ground, hungry and thirsty. That prospect didn't appeal to him, but he knew he couldn't go home. Not yet. Not leaving Ellen to Wallace's questionable mercy.

He might not be able to do anything by staying here, but he
surely
couldn't do anything if he went back to the house. In the meantime, needing to find a place to rest, he checked out several thickets. None was both dry and offered a carpet of leaves to keep him from having to lie down directly on the rocks. He had just rejected a fourth thicket when he saw what he thought was a faint glimmer of light in the distance. It vanished immediately, but he took heart. If he was lucky, he'd just seen a flicker of light from Wallace's campfire. At the very least it might be someone else who had seen Wallace and Ellen. But he wanted to see it again, just to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

The light remained invisible for so long Salty began to wonder if it had been moonlight reflecting off a fleck of silica embedded in a stone or a piece of broken glass, but then the light reappeared, and it flared forth with such a burst of color there was no doubt it was real. Within a few moments it had assumed a formidable size. One of the thickets was on fire! Salty drove his tired mount into a gallop. He didn't know what had caused the blaze, but if Ellen was there, she was in danger.

There were perhaps as many as fifty trees in the grove when he reached it, and the perimeter was composed of an impenetrable tangle of thorny vines that would cause serious damage even to the most careful rider. Salty searched for the break in the barrier that Wallace must have used, assuming he hadn't hacked his way in with a bush ax. His search became even more intense when he heard a voice which he identified as Wallace's followed by Ellen's high, clear, penetrating sound. The girl was alive and in fighting form, but he would have to get her out quickly. The fire was growing. It wouldn't be long before the whole grove was on fire.

Despite the moonlight, Salty almost missed the break in the vines that proved to be the only way to enter. He turned his mount toward the opening, but its fear of fire was so great it refused to enter. Salty dug his heels into the horse's side, but the animal squealed in fright, wheeled, and tried to run away. Salty managed to stop him, but he'd never get the horse inside. With a curse of frustration, he leapt to the ground. He didn't look back as the frightened animal ran away, instead headed straight into the thicket.

At first he couldn't see in the nearly total darkness. Then he was blinded by the light from the fire. He nearly knocked himself down on a couple of low-hanging branches, but at last he reached where Wallace was struggling with Ellen. She bit Wallace's hand, which caused him to scream curse-filled threats. She kicked and scratched as well. Wallace had tangled with a wildcat.

The fire had gained such a strong foothold, Salty was more concerned about getting Ellen to safety than apprehending Wallace. After running into several more limbs, one that came perilously close to putting out his eye, he reached the kidnapper.

The noise of the fire had covered the sound of his footsteps, but a sixth sense must have warned Wallace of Salty's approach. He struck Ellen a savage blow that knocked the child to the ground; then he turned on Salty, gun in hand. Fortunately, he was as blinded by the fire as Salty. His shot went wide. A second shot passed so close to Salty's ear he could hear the whine of the bullet. The next sound, the hammer falling on an empty chamber, was music to Salty's ears.

Wallace stood before him, silhouetted against the fire. Rather than waste time, Salty ran to Ellen and lifted her to her feet. “We've got to get out before the fire traps us.”

The little girl was still groggy from the blow, but her anger-filled eyes searched for her abductor. “Where's Mr. Wallace?”

Salty looked to where the man had been, but he was gone.

“He probably ran away to escape the fire—something we'd better do.” Taking Ellen firmly by the hand, Salty rushed for the way out.

“He'll get away!”

“Not for long,” Salty promised. He searched for the exit to the thicket, but it was impossible to see past the blaze all around him. He told himself not to panic. Wallace had found a way out. They would, too.

The fire had leapt from dry leaves and dead limbs on the ground into the treetops; Salty could hear the sound of wood popping and splitting over its roar. They had only seconds to find the way out, he knew. Stumbling over fallen limbs and dodging low-hanging branches, Salty fought to stay ahead of the blaze while struggling for the opening that would lead them to safety.

Ellen started to cry. “We're going to burn up. I'll never see Mama again.”

“We're not going to burn up.” He and the little girl were going to get out of this if he had to go headfirst through the worst tangle of thorny vines in Texas. He snatched up a dead branch and told her, “Get behind me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Use this branch to force our way out.”

He might as well have been confronting a solid wall for all the good his pushing on the branch did. The fire was getting closer, hotter. Salty thrust the end of the limb into the tangle of vines to pry an opening. While the vines had refused to break or be uprooted, they did bend to either side. The tangle was more than six feet in depth, but he managed to make an opening large enough for Ellen to scramble through. By now the fire was in the trees directly overhead and smoldering in the leaves at his feet. The heat was terrible, and the smoke was making his eyes water. He could hardly breathe without gasping, which only made things worse. He had to get out now or it would be too late.

Using his bare hands to pry the vines apart, despite the thorns that tore at his flesh and snatched his hat from his head, he fought his way through the resistant web. His feet got tangled and he fell to his knees. He nearly screamed at the pain of something that felt like a dagger being driven into his thigh, but he continued to push toward the fresh air he could smell despite the heat and the smoke. The pop and hiss of green leaves and vines over his head exploding from the heat drove him to one last superhuman effort. Gulping in a lungful of life-giving air, he dove out of the thicket and rolled.

When he came upright several feet away, he found himself face-to-face with Wallace.

He managed to avoid the rancher's first attack by rolling, but his body felt like a pincushion and he was weak and disoriented from having inhaled so much smoke. He couldn't have avoided Wallace a second time, but Ellen threw herself in the way. When the rancher tried to shove her aside, she bit him. Howling in pain and fury, he would have backhanded the child, but Salty managed to grab one of his ankles and throw him off balance. Unfortunately, Wallace aimed a kick at Salty's head that was a glancing blow but enough to knock him onto his back.

Ellen attacked again. Wallace retaliated, and it was clear from the way he was hitting the child that he meant to put her out of the way. Salty fought to clear his head and regain some control over his body. Despite the burning pain from what felt like hundreds of needles buried in his flesh, he had to stop Wallace from hurting her. He climbed to his knees and managed to throw himself at the back of the rancher's legs. The man went down with a crash, momentarily stunned.

Salty crawled to where Ellen lay sprawled on the ground. She looked lifeless. “Ellen, wake up. Are you hurt?”

The little girl opened her eyes. “I'm going to kill that bastard!”

Despite the pain that racked his body from one end to the other, Salty grinned. “That's my girl. You practically saved my life. Just don't let your mother hear that word. She'll swear you got it from me.”

“Turn around real quick,” she whispered.

Grimacing from pain, Salty turned to see Wallace pulling himself into a sitting position. If Salty didn't get to his feet now, he'd lose all advantage. Something inside of him snapped. Roger was myopic, Arnie delusional, but Wallace was just plain evil. There were times when a man simply had to ignore the consequences and fight. Remembering what some of his fellow soldiers had suffered during the war, he ignored the pain in his thigh. Still, it took every bit of mental toughness he could summon to stand up.

He gritted his teeth and staggered over to where Wallace was attempting to get to his feet. Summoning all his energy, he slammed his fist into the man's jaw. The blow sent Wallace sprawling; it left Salty panting for breath.

“That's for shooting Sarah, you son of a bitch. Now get up. I intend to give you another for hurting Ellen. If you're still able to stand after that, I'll give you one more for this damned pain in my thigh.”

Wallace didn't move.

“Wake up, you yellow-bellied coward. I'm not through with you.”

Wallace still didn't move.

Ellen appeared, peering down at him. “I hope he's dead.”

“He's just out cold.” Salty was rather proud that, in his weakened condition, he'd been able to hit Wallace so hard. He just wished his fist didn't hurt nearly as much as his thigh.

“What do we do now?” Ellen asked.

Salty started to say they needed to watch the fire to make sure it didn't leap to the next thicket, but the ground out here was wet from recent rain and the next nearest copse was a good distance off, a clump of trees about a hundred yards away. “We need to find my horse,” he said. “It's a long walk home, and I don't think I'll make it with this thorn in my thigh.”

“We can use Mr. Wallace's horse,” Ellen said.

“We could if we could find it.”

“We can.” She pointed to the nearest copse. “He hid it over there.”

Having used up the nearby dry fuel, the fire was beginning to die down. Salty ran over to the copse and found Wallace's horse. On it was a length of rope. He made a split-second decision to tie Wallace up and tell the deputy where to find him; that seemed easier than figuring out how to get him and Ellen back to the ranch.

“Let's go,” he said to Ellen. “I'm worried about your mother.”

* * *

Recounting to Sarah the way her daughter had fought against her kidnapper helped distract Salty's mind until the doctor finished bandaging her wound and told them she was in no danger. Ellen's description of how she caused the horse to leave a trail Salty could follow entertained them all when the doctor switched patients.

He spent longer with Salty than he did with Sarah. “I've never seen anybody with so many embedded thorns!”

“It's becoming an occupational hazard,” Salty joked. “You should have seen my foot several days ago.” He was trying to make light of the situation, but he hurt worse now than before the doctor removed the thorns. He did all right until the one in his thigh. Then it was all he could do to keep from embarrassing himself in front of the children. Not even Ellen's description of how she'd intentionally started the fire had been able to keep Salty's mind off the pain.

“Both of you should stay in bed for at least the next day,” the doctor told them. “It's important for Mrs. Wheeler to stay off her feet until that wound has time to heal. She's fortunate it's only a shallow flesh wound.”

“How can I do that when I have six people to feed?” Sarah asked.

“I can cook some,” Arnie volunteered.

“Me too,” Dobie added.

“If it comes to that, I can cook,” Salty said, “but I doubt anybody will want to eat it.”

“I'll figure out something,” Sarah said, giving him a fond smile. “I want you to get better, not worse.”

“I'll send Mr. Wallace's cook over,” the deputy said. “I imagine he'll be looking for new work soon.”

The deputy had been present when Salty returned with Ellen. He'd collected Wallace and taken him back to his ranch, ordering the men there to watch him until he could be transported back to Austin. He'd warned them all of the penalty for helping a wanted man escape. None had seemed likely to risk that, not even Tully.

“Someone's coming,” Jared announced. “I hear a wagon.”

Salty couldn't get used to Jared being able to hear things long before anyone else. The boy's senses appeared to have sharpened to compensate for his leg.

Ellen jumped up from where she'd been watching the doctor remove Salty's thorns. “I'll go see.” She was out of her seat and through the door with the speed of a gazelle.

“I think she's recovered from her ordeal,” the deputy said.

Salty tried to laugh. “If you'd seen what she did to Wallace, you'd know he suffered more than she.”

The door was flung open and Ellen burst in. “It's the Randolphs,” she announced, a little out of breath. “And they've brought two calves!”

Rose, looking big enough to give birth at any moment, bustled into the room moments later. “George wanted me to stay in Austin until I had the baby, but I told him I wouldn't get a minute's rest as long as I knew you were in trouble.” She took one look at Sarah's leg and turned to her husband, who had followed her through the door. “I told you she needed me. What can I do?”

Salty's body was covered in wounds, he had gone without sleep, and he had endured his most stressful twenty-four hours since the war. Nonetheless, he started to laugh. Well, it wasn't exactly a laugh; it was more like a choking noise. But when Rose looked bewildered and then slightly miffed, it became a laugh. And the twinkle in Sarah's eyes finished off what was left of his self-control.

“Benton Wheeler,” Rose intoned, “don't you dare laugh at me. I'm the one who told Sarah you were the best possible choice for a husband, that if she chose you, nothing would go wrong.”

At that point he simply howled.