Rosanne Bittner (21 page)

Maggie winced when Sloan jerked her into one of the other two rooms in the cabin. He shoved her onto a bed, while in the outer room, the three men laughed and made more crude remarks.

“You gonna cooperate, or do I have to tie your wrists and ankles?” Walt asked. “I ain’t aimin’ to hurt you long as you don’t make it necessary.” He loosened his belt and started unbuttoning his pants.

Maggie scrambled to think. She’d rather die than let another stranger touch her. “Do you really think Jasper is out of money?” she asked, hoping to get him to think about something else.

He hesitated. “What are you talking about?”

“He stole a lot of money off Sage Lightfoot,” Maggie answered, “more than what he told you. He only told you he’s broke and offered me up, so you couldn’t get more of his loot. He’s made a fool of you.”

Walt stiffened. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? Why do you think Sage Lightfoot is so bent on finding Jimmy and Jasper? Jasper told you Sage would come here for me, but it’s
not
for me. You already know Jimmy and Jasper raped me once. Sage knows it too. He happened to come along and help me afterward, and together we started looking for those two. But do you really think Sage Lightfoot would risk coming here for a raped, pregnant woman he’s known only a couple of months? It’s the
money
he’s after!”

When she spoke the words, they sounded too sickeningly true. Maybe once this was over, and Sage had most of his money back, she would learn that the money was the real reason he’d come this far.

“Pregnant?”
Walt asked.

It was only then that Maggie realized she’d mentioned her condition. In her addled, desperate state, she’d blurted it out. She got off the bed and faced him. “Would Sage Lightfoot care about a woman who’s carrying an outlaw’s child, especially when it belongs to one of those two wretched men out there—men who
stole
from him?”

Sloan stood there looking befuddled, and Maggie took hope in his confusion and hesitation.

“Yes, I’m carrying a baby fathered by Jimmy or Jasper—or maybe, by their third partner—the one Sage Lightfoot killed! The baby is a bastard! Why would Sage Lightfoot care about me when he knows that?” she reiterated, hating to refer to her baby as a bastard. Right now, she would do anything to discourage Walt Sloan from what he wanted to do. She walked closer, facing the tall, intimidating man as though she were just as tall and intimidating. “I’m telling you it’s the
money
! Go ahead. Ask Jasper where the
rest
of the money is.”

Sloan squinted, studying her closely. “You telling me the
truth
, woman?”

“I sure as hell am!”

Walt took a deep breath, then buttoned his pants and stormed into the next room.

“What the hell!” Maggie heard Jasper yell. His exclamation was followed by the sound of a man’s fist landing into someone. There came a crash. Maggie walked to the curtained doorway and looked to see Walt jerking Jasper to his feet.

“You didn’t tell me and Arny that she was carryin’!” he roared. He threw Jasper against a wall. Jasper grunted and stood there with the breath knocked out of him. Walt walked over and strapped his guns back on. “I might stick myself in anything with a skirt on,” he growled, “married or not, willin’ or not—but I’m not pokin’ a woman with a kid in her belly!” He pulled out one of his revolvers and charged back to Jasper, shoving the barrel of the six-gun under the man’s chin. “Where’s the
money
, Jasper?”

Jimmy and Arny sat staring, neither reaching for a gun.

Jasper swallowed. “
What
money?”

“The rest of the money you stole from Lightfoot! The money you didn’t tell me about!”

“I paid you plenty to come along and help us,” Jasper told him, his face covered in perspiration. “I gave most of what I stole to you. You won the rest tonight.”

Walt cocked his gun. “I don’t believe you.” He finally backed away. “You lied, Jasper.” He holstered his gun and grabbed his hat and jacket. “I ain’t helpin’ a liar! Out here you gotta be straight about what you’re doin’. I’ll sleep at the other cabin. Be back for my gear in the morning—
after
I kill Sage Lightfoot. Then you and me are gonna have a little showdown of our own! If you don’t come forth about the rest of the money, you’re a
dead
man! I’ll let you think about it tonight.” He walked out, slamming the door.

Jasper stood there looking dazed. Jimmy and Arny exchanged glances. “She’s
carryin’
?” Arny asked.

Jimmy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You should know,” Maggie said, moving into the main room. “You could be the father.” She moved her gaze to Jasper. “Or you!”

Jasper stared as though she was some strange creature he’d never seen before. “You’re lyin’,” he growled.

“I don’t think she’s the type to make up somethin’ like that,” Jimmy spoke up. “And as long as we ain’t sure, we gotta leave her be. Jesus, Jasper, let her go. We can still lay in wait for Lightfoot and kill the son of a bitch, but let the woman go. We still have a lot of money left.”

“How
much
money?” Arny asked.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Look, we’ll pay you more, if that’s what it takes. Just stay with us. By this time tomorrow, I’m figurin’ it will all be over. Lightfoot will be dead. We can hand the woman to that bunch in the next cabin, and they can decide what to do. You can come with us back to Lander. The rest of the money is in a bank there.”

“Shut up, Jimmy!” Jasper warned.

“What the hell, Jasper? The cat’s out of the bag. I’m tired of runnin’. We’ve been high tailin’ it for nearly two months now. We’ve made the woman suffer, and if she’s really carryin’ a kid we put in her, that’s good punishment for givin’ us such a headache ever since we had our fun with her. She’ll be carryin’ a bastard kid. It’s like Walt said. He’s comin’ for the money, and he won’t get it. Killin’ him and leavin’ the woman to fend for herself from here on is good enough for me.”

Jasper glowered at Maggie. “I ain’t so sure about that.”

Jimmy turned back to his cards. “If you want to go pokin’ a pregnant woman, go ahead. I ain’t got no desire for it.”

Maggie folded her arms, glaring at Jasper. She felt a sudden resurgence of strength. God had put exactly the right words into her mouth to get rid of Walt Sloan and give the other three second thoughts. “Go ahead,” she sneered at Jasper. “I already know you don’t have a brave bone in your body! Prove it again!”

He came for her, but rather than push her into the bedroom, he jerked her back over to the fireplace. He shoved her to the floor and threw a blanket at her. “You’ll sleep out here on the floor again tonight,” he huffed. “I ain’t wastin’ my time with a used-up piece of woman carryin’ a bastard kid.”

He returned to the table and took a long slug of whiskey. “Deal me in,” he told the other two. “Now that Walt is out of the game, I’ll keep playin’. He was a little too lucky tonight for my likin’.”

“What are you gonna do about Walt tomorrow?” Arny asked. “He meant it about facin’ you down, if you don’t tell him where the rest of the money is.”

“I ain’t worried about that bastard. I’ll shoot him on sight and not give him the chance to pull his gun on me.”

Arny chuckled. “Tomorrow’s gonna be a real interestin’ day.”

Maggie curled up on the floor, miserable physically, but exultant mentally. She’d found a way to stave off her abductors for another night, and that’s all she needed. She prayed that tomorrow Jasper and Jimmy would regret messing with the likes of Sage Lightfoot, that tomorrow Sage would finally catch up. The only trouble was that he was up against incredible odds.

Worse than that was her worry that she’d been right in saying Sage Lightfoot wouldn’t care about a woman carrying a bastard child spawned by the likes of the men he was after. Once this was over, if Sage lived, she’d be forced to tell him the truth.

Someone pounded on the door. Maggie jerked awake, then squinted against a shaft of sunlight that glared through the one and only front window of the cabin. She groaned with pain-filled bones and muscles as she managed to get to her feet, realizing the last few hours were the first time she’d truly slept in days, mainly because she no longer felt the threat of rape from Jasper and Jimmy. If it weren’t for the rude awakening from the banging on the door, she might have been able to get a little more rest.

A hungover Jasper stalked grumpily out of the bedroom wearing only his long johns. “Who the hell is it?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” Maggie replied. “In a place like this, I’m not about to open the door to strangers.”

“Well, heat some coffee, woman!” Jasper pulled his handgun from its holster where it hung on the wall. There came more pounding.

“Who is it?” Jasper shouted.

“Name’s Skeeter,” came the shouted reply. “I was the watchman last night for the men next door.”

Jasper finally opened the door, covering his bloodshot eyes against the bright sun. “What the hell do you want?”

“Just lettin’ you know that some men are comin’ up the wall.” Skeeter was tall and lanky, and Maggie noticed his eyes were huge with excitement. “I know the one in front. Name’s Bob Yates. He’s from a ranch below, and he’s bringin’ up supplies. He does that sometimes. Me and the others are anxious to have fresh food and tobacco. I reckon’ he’s carryin’ whiskey too. You might want to do some tradin’ with him.”

Jasper squinted and ran a hand through his matted hair. “Do you know a man named Sage Lightfoot?” he asked Skeeter. “Anybody in their party look Indian?”

Skeeter shook his head. “I ain’t never heard of the man, and ain’t none of them looks Indian.”

Maggie’s heart fell. She busied herself with lighting a fire in the stove to heat the coffee and start breakfast.

“You sure it ain’t the law comin’?”

“Shoot no. Ain’t no lawman ever comes up here. Like I said, it’s just Yates comin’ to do some tradin’. I rode part way down to be sure. He even brung along a travois he says is packed with potatoes, beans, and such. I rode hard back here to tell everybody, so’s you can be ready to trade. They’re just now makin’ it to the top and will have to rest their horses a bit before they get here.”

The man left, and Jasper turned to Maggie. “Fry up what’s left of the bacon and eggs from yesterday,” he ordered. He shoved his gun into its holster and headed for the bedroom to pull on his pants. “If your man ain’t in the bunch who’s comin’ today, looks like maybe he won’t come for you at all,” he goaded.

Maggie hurt so bad that she wondered if she might have broken bones. It was all she could do to lift the cast iron fry pan to the stove. She turned to the bacon barrel and glanced at Jasper’s gun hanging nearby.

“Don’t be thinkin’ to use that gun.” The words came from the corner where Arny Clay lay on a cot watching her. “I’ll shoot you down, pregnant or not. Fix that coffee and bacon like Jasper told you to do. And don’t be thinkin’ them men that’s comin’ are gonna help you. They’re here to trade. Best you can hope for is they’ll try tradin’ somethin’ for you. If they do, your fate ain’t gonna’ be any better with them than with us.”

Sage.
He should be here by now. How disappointing to learn he was not among those coming to trade. Maggie stoked the fire in the cookstove, poked the dying embers to get flames started as she added wood. She wondered how on earth men got such a heavy stove up here, but she supposed where there was a will, there was a way. She prayed the same was true for Sage.

She set a coffee kettle on one of the burner plates, deciding to heat the coffee left from the day before rather than make fresh. She lifted the lid and added water to ease the thick bitterness yesterday’s brew was bound to carry. She turned to the bacon barrel and lifted the lid, using a fork to dig what was left of their supply of bacon from the lard in which it was packed. She threw the bacon and extra lard into the cast iron fry pan then replaced the lid on the wooden barrel.

The lard heated quickly, while Maggie’s thoughts raced with possibilities for escape, if Sage didn’t make it after all. She had to face the reality that any number of situations could arise out here that would prevent him from getting to her. He could be wounded, or maybe his horse went lame, and had slowed him down by a day or two. She had to believe there was a good reason he’d not come yet.

The bacon sizzled. Maggie went outside to get the eggs she’d left there to keep cool. She looked out to see two men riding across the mesa toward the cabin. They dragged a travois built narrow enough to get it through the path that led here. It was loaded with supplies and covered with canvas. Behind them, a third man led six good-looking horses tied together with a string of rope. He kept his hat pulled down over his eyes as though nearly asleep in the saddle.

“Get in here!” Jasper growled from the doorway.

“I was getting the eggs,” she answered, turning back inside with the basket in her hands. “The men coming look to have a lot of supplies, even some horses.”

“I don’t want them men seein’ you,” Jasper ordered. “We’ll see what they want first and make sure they’re on the up and up. Might be I’ll trade you for one of their horses. Now that I know you’re carryin’ a baby, and Lightfoot apparently ain’t comin’ for you, I’d just as soon trade you off and get rid of you. That would twist Lightfoot’s gut right good, which is all the better.”

Fine. I’d rather take my chances with strangers than spend another minute with you
, Maggie thought. She walked to the stove and took the coffeepot from a hot plate, pouring some into three tin cups on the table. She replaced the pot and broke eggs into the fry pan along with the bacon. Jasper left the door open, so he could keep an eye on the new arrivals while sitting at the table. He and Jimmy and Arny sat down and slurped their coffee.

“Hurry it up,” Jasper told Maggie. “Them men out there is gonna be ready to trade, and I don’t want to miss out.”

“Then you should go there to greet them first instead of feeding your face,” Maggie answered. She no longer cared about Jasper’s threats or how he might treat her. She moved away from the table and walked to the open doorway again. The traders were close now, approaching the men next door. She noticed Walt Sloan amble out of the other cabin. He was not wearing his guns.

Maggie glanced at the traders again, and it was then she saw him.

Sage!
He moved from under the canvas that covered the travois. Maggie realized then that the man who’d been riding with his hat pulled down was Newell! She forced herself to show no reaction as she tried to think straight, her heart pounding. She decided the best thing to do was act quickly to help Sage without giving anything away to the men inside.

She walked casually back to the stove, glad Walt was not armed, and realizing that he wouldn’t know Sage anyway, unless someone pointed him out. With shaking hands, she took Jasper’s tin plate from the table and used a spatula to put eggs and bacon on it. She did the same for the other two men, setting their food in front of them, then picked up the pan of hot grease as though to remove it from the fire.

It was now or never. Difficult as it was to hang on to the heavy pan, Maggie swung it around, slamming the open pan with its hot grease against the side of Jasper’s face. She heard a sizzling sound, and Jasper screamed and jumped up. Maggie ran to the door and yelled Sage’s name. “In here!” she screamed. “There are three of them!”

Everything happened so fast then that Maggie wasn’t sure what took place first. Jimmy was suddenly there. He slammed a fist into her face and sent her sprawling onto the porch. Maggie rolled away from the doorway. She heard gunfire, saw Sage ducking and rolling, fire spitting from his six-gun. In near unconsciousness, she scrambled farther away, heard Jasper still screaming and cursing inside the cabin. She took satisfaction in causing him pain.

Newell rushed past her and flattened himself against the outside of the cabin wall. Maggie managed to sit up. She forced herself to concentrate. Now she saw Sage at the far corner of the cabin. He motioned for her to stay down. Maggie obeyed. She glanced at the supply train. One man was on his knees near the travois, apparently ready to help. The other man with him ran behind a watering trough, his gun ready. But the men in the nearby cabin all stayed inside, none of them willing to help. Maggie was not surprised. It worried her that she didn’t see Walt Sloan anywhere. Had he gone for his guns?

“Come on out, Jasper!” Sage yelled.

“You come get me, you son of a bitch!”

A barrage of gunfire came from the doorway and the one window of the cabin. Maggie wasn’t sure if anyone inside was hurt, other than Jasper’s burns. Pain throbbed at her cheek where Jimmy had hit her. She could tell it was already swelling.

“Step in the doorway, and I’ll blow our head off!” Jasper added. “Then I’ll take care of that goddamn bitch you’re after. I’ll give her to the rest of them men out there, if any of them wants a whore carryin’ a bastard kid!”

Maggie gasped. This was not the way she wanted Sage to find out about the baby! She met his gaze and saw surprise in his eyes. What was he thinking? She couldn’t tell, and the matter at hand was too pressing to give it much thought. Sage looked at Newell and made a gesture toward the roof. Newell nodded. He shoved his six-gun into its holster and made a mad dash for a pole that supported an overhang of the sagging front porch. He shimmied up the post and onto the roof.

Realizing what was happening, Arny came running out, guns blazing. Sage stepped out and shot him down, then darted around the corner. Walt Sloan came charging out of the other cabin then, both guns blazing. Newell flattened himself on the roof, and Sage cried out, apparently hit.

“Sage!” Maggie screamed. She barely got his name out before he fired several shots at Sloan. The man’s chest seemed to explode, and he crumpled to the ground.

Sage ducked back again, and Maggie hoped he’d have time to reload before more shooting started. How badly was he injured? To her great relief, the rest of the men stayed barricaded inside the other cabin. According to the code of conduct among such men, this was not their business.

Jasper mouthed off a string of curses, daring Sage to step inside, while Newell removed his vest and laid it over the top of the stovepipe that stuck up through the roof of the cabin. In just seconds, smoke came pouring out of the cabin door and windows. Jimmy stumbled outside, coughing and gagging, shooting randomly at nothing.

Sage charged onto the porch and shot Jimmy as he ducked and rolled to get to Maggie before Jimmy’s wild shooting could send a bullet into her. A bullet spit across Sage’s face, opening a cut across his cheek. He spun around, landing beside Maggie.

“Sage!”

He didn’t answer. Stunned but awake, he quickly grabbed her and dragged her off the porch. Maggie noticed his upper arm was also bleeding.

Smoke finally forced Jasper outside. He fired wildly, striking a horse. The animal whinnied and reared, and Sage stepped up and shot Jasper twice. The man screamed and collapsed with a bullet in each knee. Maggie realized Sage had deliberately avoided hitting Jasper in any vital places. He wanted him alive… for a while.

More curses poured from Jasper’s mouth in ugly screams. Once he was down, Sage left Maggie and stormed to where Jasper lay. He took his hunting knife from its sheath near his ankle and dragged Jasper around the side of the house. Jasper’s screams grew so loud that even Maggie almost felt sorry for him.

“Where’s my money!” Sage raged.

“Lander!” Jasper screamed. “In the bank! I swear—most of it is still there!”

There came a couple of seconds of quiet, and in that brief moment, Maggie found herself wondering if Sage really did come just for his money.

She wouldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe it.

Jasper began begging then. “No! No! No!” His protests sounded desperate, like a man being tortured. Maggie wasn’t sure what Sage was doing to him… nor did she want to know. She put a hand to her stomach, her emotions roiling in her gut at the realization that the last two men who might have fathered her child were dead… or soon to be dead, when Sage was finished with Jasper.

Suddenly, Newell was beside her. He helped her to her feet. “You need to get farther away,” he told her. He hurried her behind an abandoned buckboard wagon.

“Newell! Are you all right?”

“I’m okay. Is Jasper the last man who was inside?”

“Yes, but Sage is wounded.”

“Don’t worry about Sage. He’s too pissed off to go down.”

“I can’t believe both of you made it up here.”

“Had some help. Men in these parts won’t help the law, but they’ll help each other if they think it’s necessary. They don’t like other men takin’ a man’s wife—and the men who helped us knew Kate. They wasn’t happy to hear Jasper and Jimmy beat up on her.”

“How is Kate? Is she alive?” Maggie saw the pain in Newell’s eyes.

“She was when we left Lander. I’m not sure she’ll still be alive when we get back.”

“Oh, Newell, I’m so sorry!” Maggie couldn’t help her tears—a mixture of relief Sage and Newell had found her, and sorrow over Kate.

“You couldn’t help it,” Newell answered, watching both cabins. “Me and Sage are the ones who are sorry. We never should have left you and Kate alone.”

Sage walked around the corner of the cabin and into view. Jasper was still screaming, calling Sage every name in the book, and begging him to kill him.

“Maggie!” Sage shouted.

Maggie stepped from behind the buckboard. There was a wild look in Sage’s eyes that made her hesitate.

“She’s carryin’, Lightfoot!” Jasper screamed, deliberately baiting Sage, apparently in an effort to get Sage to shoot him and put him out of his misery. “It’s my kid! Maybe it’s Jimmy’s… or Cleve’s! Your woman is carryin’ a bastard!”

Maggie watched Sage’s eyes. She could not read them. At the moment, she was the one who wanted to die, realizing the other men were listening, that they all heard Jasper’s ugly words. Newell walked up beside Maggie.