Rosanne Bittner (19 page)

For untold miles over the last three days, Maggie survived a hellish journey that followed a wall of red-rock cliffs meandering alongside a vast, yellow-grass valley. She knew without a doubt that Jimmy and Jasper were headed for the famed Hole-In-The-Wall. The huge valley and rock walls that guarded it stretched for mile after endless mile. She felt swallowed up by the landscape of grass and shale and rippling hillsides that graduated to the intimidating cliffs.

It was impossible to guess how many miles a person could see in any direction. It was as though this place had no beginning and no end, and she imagined that from the top of that bastion of a wall that bordered the valley, one could see for even more miles. How was Sage going to find her in this maze of sand, grassland, hills, plateaus, caves, and mesas? In some places, huge boulders lay scattered as though God himself had been playing marbles and just tossed them wherever He chose. There was no explanation for them lying in the middle of miles and miles of flatland, too far from the cliffs to have rolled there on their own.

She told herself not to lose faith in Sage’s ability to track men in this godforsaken country. If any man could find her, it was Sage Lightfoot. This thought was all that kept her going through a constant pounding headache that sometimes caused her to vomit. She tried to concentrate on the landscape to help keep from thinking what might happen to her next.

Jimmy and Jasper had ridden from dawn to dusk the past three days to get here as fast as possible, changing horses twice—once by dickering with a rancher, and once by trading with men they met along the trail who were herding several mustangs they’d broken. In both cases, Jasper kept Maggie at a distance with Jimmy, so the men he dealt with couldn’t see her up close and realize she was a captive.

Maggie suspected both men knew that even out here, there were men who wouldn’t abide abusing a decent woman. She hung on to the realization that part of the reason the men traveled so fast was fear. Jimmy Hart and the ugly Jasper were afraid of not only some of the men they met on this journey, but also afraid that Sage Lightfoot was no doubt, hot on their heels. That’s exactly what they wanted, yet she could feel their uncertainty, read the anxiety in their eyes. Once they reached their outlaw fortress, they would have their supreme vantage point, where they could lie in wait for their prey, and they were in a damn big hurry to get there. What they might do with her while they waited, Maggie didn’t want to think about.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hang on to a desire to live. She’d been treated like baggage, tossed to the ground at night with nothing but one light blanket to stave off the cold. By contrast, the days were hot and dusty and windy. She was afforded little water and even less food. She’d hardened herself against the humiliation of relieving herself in front of the filthy men she hoped she’d never have to see alive again. She told herself that lifting her skirts in front of them was better than wetting herself and smelling like urine.

She’d refused to cry, refused to scream, refused to beg, and she continued to believe there were good men out here who might help her. Through all the hard miles of riding, Jasper kept her in front of him on his horse, taking privileges with his hands on her body. She was glad that her head wound made her vomit, glad for the heat that made her perspire, and glad to add how bad she must smell by now. All of it kept both men at bay, along with the fact that they were too tired from the hard ride to force themselves on a sick woman who was a mess to boot. They kept her hands tied behind her back most of the time, and at night they tied her ankles. Escape was impossible. Even if she found a way out of this, where would she go in country like this? She’d die from exposure and the elements. How she’d kept from losing her baby she would never know, but one thing was certain. The life inside her belly was one strong little being.

Her misery was made worse by the memory of hearing Kate’s skull crack and seeing the woman slump to the floor. Her own head injury caused her to black out at first, but she’d come around quick enough to realize she was being loaded onto Jasper’s horse. She was too dazed and weak to fight or scream, and for the rest of that night and part of the next morning, she’d moved in and out of consciousness.

Was poor Kate dead? Sage would blame himself for this. Her worst fear was that for all she knew, Sage could be dead too. Maybe he’d found John Polk. Maybe Polk had shot him in the back. She’d heard Jimmy mention Polk a time or two. With every breath, she begged God to protect Sage, pleaded that he was still alive and coming for her. All that kept her from wanting to die was that hope. More than anything, she wanted to live just to see these two men die a horrible death at Sage’s hands. Any form of suffering on her part would be worth hearing Jasper and Jimmy Hart scream with pain and beg for their lives.

She’d decided that until that time, she’d not speak one word. Keeping quiet seemed to make both men nervous, and the more nervous they were, the more likely they might get careless and let their guard down. She enjoyed their frustration over the fact that she wasn’t begging and pleading with them to let her go. She tried to think like Sage would think—studied the land, watched, listened, and avoided insanity by considering ways she could either escape or find a way to help Sage once he caught up. She took hope. Because of what these two did to Kate, Newell would come with Sage to find them.

Newell wouldn’t be able to let this go any more than Sage would. That meant Sage would have help.

She watched the landscape ahead and saw what looked like horses and cattle grazing—stolen stock grazed by outlaws, no doubt. Outlaws… many of who, oddly enough, had scruples when it came to how men like Jasper treated women. Jasper knew it, which was why he made sure she had no opportunity to speak to anyone. Some men out here might have known Kate. They wouldn’t like knowing what Jimmy did to her.

She told herself that this was not the time to crumple under terror and sickening memories, or to allow her bone-deep aches and weariness to cause her to lie down and never get up. She would not let her constant misery make her fold. She’d heard Sage brag about how strong she was, and that’s what she’d be, no matter what lay ahead.

Jasper halted his horse and studied the camp in the distance. “Better keep avoiding others for now,” he told Jimmy. He gave Maggie a painful jerk that hurt her ribs. “If we do run into somebody with you close by, you’d better keep your mouth shut. You’re my woman. Got that?”

Maggie continued her silence.

Jasper squeezed again. “Answer me! I’m tired of you not talking! Answer me, or I’ll cut out your tongue so you’ll never talk again!”

Maggie didn’t doubt he’d do it. “I’m your woman,” she said with obvious disgust.

Jasper’s hand moved to her throat with a threatening squeeze. “That’s right. And your only chance of getting out of this is keepin’ quiet around others. Once we’re rid of Sage Lightfoot once and for all, we’ll turn you over to anybody here who wants you.”

“Why didn’t you wait at Kate’s house and kill Sage when he got there?” Maggie decided that perhaps now was a good time to work on their nerves in another way—make them wonder if taking her was the worst mistake they’d ever made.

Jasper chuckled. “That would be too easy. Lightfoot’s been doggin’ me for weeks. You think I didn’t know? I’m tired of it, and I’m pissed that he shot Cleve. Cleve was my cousin, and I want Lightfoot to suffer. I want him to come to me on a silver platter. Back in Lander he could have got help. Out here, it’s just him and me.”

Maggie studied the men in the distance. “Is it? Sage has friends out here too, you know. You might not be as safe as you think you are. He used to ride this country—lived here. Kate Bassett was one of his best friends. He’s going to be furious, and you don’t want to deal with a furious Sage Lightfoot.”

Jasper grasped her jaw so hard she feared he’d break it. “I’ll be safe enough when we get to the top of Hole-In-The-Wall. The men who go there are the worst of the lot, so don’t be expectin’ help from them. And some might take a shine to you, little lady. A lot of them ain’t been with a woman in a while, let alone one as little and perty as you. Once this is over, I’ll get you cleaned up and offer you up like a Christmas present.” He looked at Jimmy. “Go talk to them men up ahead, and see if you can trade for some fresh horses. I’ll stay behind with the woman this time.”

Jimmy rode off, and Maggie watched.
Help
me!
she screamed on the inside, but out here in this vast valley, she knew a scream would be lost in the wind. The men up ahead would never hear it.

Sage stared at the flickering fire as he leaned against a rock, quietly smoking. He was bone tired, yet he couldn’t sleep for worrying what kind of hell Maggie was suffering. He knew it was the same for Newell, who sat on his bedroll nearby. Both of them felt sick at Kate’s condition. When they left Lander, she was barely clinging to life, and the doctor feared she might be paralyzed or have permanent mental problems if she lived.

They had ridden so hard to get this far that Storm went lame. Sage hated abusing horses, especially a good steed like Storm, but time was of the essence. He’d left the horse with a rancher several miles back, and he and Newell bought three more horses from the man, who told them that someone who fit Jasper’s description had bought horses the day before.

Didn’t have no woman with him, but looked like a fella way in the distance was standin’ with a woman
—
thought
I
could
make
out
a
dress. I figured it was just a companion, probably a whore
.

Sage felt crazy with the need to find Maggie. At least he knew she was still alive… although she was probably wishing she were dead. Realizing that Jasper and Jimmy were still ahead only meant that they, too, were riding harder and for longer hours than they should, which would be miserable for Maggie, especially if they were abusing her in other ways.

“They’re scared as shit, Sage,” Newell spoke up, as though to read Sage’s mind. He took a slug of whiskey from a small flask. “They know we’re right behind them.”

“And every time they stop for horses or any other reason, they risk being found out,” Sage answered. “That’s why they kept Maggie at a distance when they bought those horses. They didn’t want that rancher to see her up close.”

Newell rolled himself a cigarette. “We know there’s a lot of no-goods out here, but this here is a case of attempted murder on a woman some of those no-goods knew well. Kate was popular. The men in these parts ain’t gonna like knowin’ somebody bashed her head in. And they ain’t gonna’ like knowin’ they stole a man’s wife—least ways, that’s what we’ll let them believe.”

Sage finished his own cigarette and tossed what was left into the fire. “Which means we might be able to rustle up some help.”

“Could be. Most men in these parts figure a man’s fight is personal—none of their business. But them men brought Kate Bassett into this. The mood I’m in, I probably don’t need no help, cuz I’m lookin’ to cut their balls off and stuff ’em down their throats.”

Sage felt sick with rage. “That would be a start. You do that, and then I’ll finish the job… Indian style.”

Both took pleasure at the thought of torturing the men who’d battered Kate.

“Do you think Kate will make it?” Sage asked.

Newell sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’m fearful that if she does, she won’t never be the same.” He took a drag on his cigarette. “I love that woman, Sage, and I ain’t never loved nobody my whole life. Didn’t even love my own ma. She was mean to me, ran off when I was six or seven. My pa weren’t no better—taught me to steal, so he could have drinkin’ money. I met Kate when she was still runnin’ a whorehouse, but even then, she seemed like the most decent person I ever knew. Oh, I know there’s good people who live in that world, outside of drinkin’ and smokin’ and gamblin’ and leadin’ the life of an outlaw and hangin’ with no-goods, but my kind would never fit in with good, Christian folks. Kate, she’s my kind, and if she needs takin’ care of the rest of her life, I’ll do it. She’s as good and decent as them other kind of folks, if you know what I mean.”

Sage watched an ember float upward into the darkness. “I know what you mean.” He thought how Maggie was one of those outsiders Newell talked about, but she’d been molded into a woman who fit both worlds he’d known. She’d experienced enough of the rough side of life to understand him and put up with him.

Still, a woman could take only so much. If Jimmy and Jasper raped her again… or if they handed her off to other men for the same reason… it could break her spirit. And if he and Newell couldn’t reach them in time, or if they were killed while trying, God help Maggie Tucker.

“We’ll be at the base of Hole-In-The-Wall by the day after tomorrow,” he said aloud to Newell. “If we try to make it any faster than that, we’ll lose these horses too, and that will cost us even more time. We can’t be sure we’ll come across another rancher with horses to sell.” He had to think positive now. They were close. They would find Maggie.

“I expect we’ll find more men who’ve seen Jasper,” Newell put in. “A face like that sticks in a man’s mind, you know? I mean, I ain’t never seen him, but the way you described him, I’m just figurin’ he’ll be easily spotted and remembered, what with that scar over his eye and all.”

Sage lay back on his bedroll, resting his head on his saddle. He had to at least try to sleep. “I’m figuring the same. And I’m thinking there are men out here who’ll help us get to the top of the cliffs without Jimmy and Jasper knowing it.”

“Won’t be easy.” Newell also stretched out on his bedroll. “How clever is that woman of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, in this country, if a woman is clever enough, she can find ways of gettin’ out of the fixes she’s in.”

Sage ached to hold her. “I’d say she’s more strong and stubborn than clever. Takes a lot to break a woman like Maggie.”

The air hung silent for several minutes before Newell pulled a blanket over himself and settled in for the night.

“She’ll be all right, Sage,” he spoke up. “From what little I seen of her, she’ll be all right, long as she knows you’re comin’ for her… and she damn well knows that.”

Sage closed his eyes. “Yeah. All we have to do is ride into a trap at Hole-In-The-Wall and take on two well-armed men who can pick us off like jackrabbits, and who by now, probably have even more help—and do it all without taking any lead in our guts and without Maggie getting hurt.”

Newell chuckled. “That’s right encouragin’, Sage. Should help me sleep real good.”

“Glad to help out.” Coyotes yipped and howled somewhere in the distant red cliffs. Sage thought about the night Maggie helped him stave off wolves back at Wolf Canyon… a lifetime ago… how she’d saved him from being mauled to death by that grizzly—what a strong, uncomplaining woman she’d been during all these weeks of hard riding through rugged country. She didn’t deserve to have it end like this.

With a deep sigh, he pulled a blanket over himself and closed his eyes.

Hang
on, Maggie.

For the life of him, he couldn’t remember coming so close to crying—not when his father ran off, not when his mother was slaughtered by soldiers, not when his adoptive parents kicked him out—not even when Joanna left. But the thought of losing Maggie… that brought tears to his eyes.