Shotgun Bride (29 page)

T
hey left the Triple M just after sunrise, Kade riding Raindance, Mandy mounted on a bay gelding named Dickie. Sister nickered and whinnied at being left behind in the barn, but she’d put in a long, hard trek and needed resting up.

Kade didn’t bother to tell Mandy where they were headed; after bending her ear the night before on the path to the outhouse, now he wasn’t talking at all. His hat brim was pulled down low, casting a shadow over his features, and his shoulders were as straight and stiff as a railroad tie. Mandy burned with curiosity, not to mention indignation, but she would have died before she’d put even the simplest question to that man. Let him simmer in his silence, like a chicken carcass in a kettle.

After nearly two hours, they came upon a cabin, backed up against a wall of red rock like a living creature, scared and looking for someplace to hide. Smoke twistedfrom the crooked tin chimney, and an old man in disreputable red underwear trotted out to greet them, sporting a toothless grin.

“Pappy,” Kade said with the tone of a howdy, though he didn’t return the smile.

“You sent them cattle up, just like you said you would,” Pappy exulted. “I never credited as how you’d do that.” He turned to Mandy, regarding her speculatively. “Who’s this here?”

“Amanda Rose,” Kade said, and Mandy all but winced.

“She your woman?”

“She’s my wife.” He said it lightly; most likely the fact carried no great weight in his mind.

Pappy looked patently disappointed. “That’s too bad. I could use a female around this place for cooking and the like.”

Mandy suppressed a shudder, and when Kade dismounted, she stayed put. For all she knew, her devoted husband meant to leave her here to be Pappy’s woman; not much would have surprised her at that point.

“I’ve got some questions about Davy,” Kade told Pappy, “and don’t bother lying to me, because I’m not in the mood for it. Who was he riding with?”

Pappy looked cornered, but a crafty light showed in his little pigeon eyes, too. “Didn’t catch their names. Fifteen or twenty of ’em, maybe more, riding real good horses. That’s about all I know.”

Kade took a gold piece from his coat pocket and tossed it to Pappy, who caught it handily, bit it, and tucked it away in a place Mandy didn’t want to think about.

“I do recall that there was one fella, real good with a knife,” he said, straightening. “Reckon he was the one that peeled back Davy’s hair for him. I tolt that boy he oughtn’t to run with thieves and killers, but he wouldn’t listen, no, sir. Knew better than his old man. And just look where it got him.”

Mandy’s stomach had come to an acid boil at the mention of the knife, and she couldn’t help recalling that Angus had said one of his attackers was an Indian.
Coincidence,
she told herself.
Plenty of those around, and lots of folks can handle a blade, besides Cree.

“Now how’d you know that, Pappy?” Kade asked easily. “You never saw the body, remember? My brother Holt and I buried Davy without ever taking him out of the bedroll, and we didn’t figure it would be delicate to tell you the particulars.”

Pappy hawked and spat, and once again, Mandy’s stomach threatened revolt. “Don’t recollect. Must have heard it from Avery.”

“Avery wasn’t there,” Kade said, quiet and relentless. “Holt’s men took him back to the Circle C, and far as I know, he’s been there ever since. Who told you about the scalping, Pappy?”

Pappy hopped from one foot to the other, as though the ground had suddenly turned to a sizzling griddle, burning him right through the worn soles of his boots. “The Injun,” he said, after trying to wait Kade out and failing. “Said his name was Jim Dandy.”

Mandy grasped the saddle horn with both hands, sure she’d topple to the ground if she didn’t hold on for all she was worth. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kade slant a glance at her sharp enough to break the skin. The hotcakes he’d served up for breakfast back at the Triple M surged, scalding, into the back of her throat.

“This Jim Dandy,” Kade said carefully, “he actually told you that he scalped Davy?”

Pappy looked at the ground, swallowed visibly, and nodded his balding head. “Davy and some other folks, too. Said he’d do the same to me, if I tolt anybody, even if I didn’t have no hair to start with.”

Leather creaked as Kade got back in the saddle. He took a tighter grip on the reins, though Mandy had observed that he usually let them rest easy in his hands. “When was this?”

“Day after you and your brother laid Davy in the ground.”

“You seen him since?”

Pappy ruminated awhile. “God’s truth, I ain’t,” he answered finally. “And I hope I never do, neither.”

Kade adjusted his hat, which meant he was getting restless, ready to ride. “If you’re scared to stay here, you can bunk in at the Triple M for as long as you like. Avery, too, if he comes back.”

Pappy made a loud snuffling sound, as if he were clearing his sinuses, only backward. “I figure he’ll stay on at the Circle C. He favors steady wages and don’t mind muckin’ out stalls and the like. As for me, I cain’t leave this place. My woman’s buried down there, by that stand of scrub oaks, and I give her my word a long time back I’d not go off and leave her alone.” He paused, reflected. “Reckon if that fella Jim Dandy turns up again, I’ll just shoot him out of the saddle, on sight.”

“No,” Mandy heard herself say.

Kade’s gaze came right to her, and it felt like the broad side of an ax when it landed. He tipped his hat to Pappy, reined his horse around, and leaned to take her gelding by the bridle, pointing her and the horse back toward the trail they’d just traveled.

“I’m going to find your brother, Amanda Rose,” he said, “and I’m going to bring him in.”

T
hey hadn’t traveled more than a few miles when the truth struck Mandy with the force of a thunderbolt. Kade had been right all along—she
did
know where Cree was.

Kade’s gaze swung to her as surely and swiftly as if she’d spoken aloud. “What is it?”

She swallowed hard. “That mission where I got the nun clothes,” she said in a small voice. “Back when I was running from Gig, I—well—I knew where to find the place because Cree told me about it. He stayed there two whole years one time—Gig was in jail, and Mama and I lived in a rooming house in Tucson. T he lady who ran it was real nice, but she wouldn’t let Cree in because he was an Apache.”

Kade stopped his horse, listening with his whole body, it seemed, and not just his ears. “And?”

“Cree loved it there. He didn’t want to leave whenGig got out and went to fetch him back,” she said miserably, unwillingly, barely breathing the words. “There was a canyon nearby, he said, where he used to fish and camp whenever he didn’t have lessons or chores.”

Kade waited, his gaze intent, his whole body still.

“That’s where he is. That canyon.”

Something eased inside Kade; she felt the shift as surely as if it had happened in her own being, instead of his. “Did he say exactly where it was?”

“South of the mission,” she said, feeling sick. “There’s a spring there, and some white oaks. It was a magical place to him. He said he could be an Apache there.”

Kade nodded grimly. “I’ll see you back to the ranch before I head out.”

Mandy’s response chafed her throat. “You can’t go by yourself.” Bloody images of what could happen when these two men collided all but overwhelmed Mandy; she saw Kade lying dead, and then Cree, and her heart split right down the middle. “What if he’s not alone?”

“Then he’s not alone.” And that, apparently, was that.

Rafe and Jeb were nowhere around when they reached the main house; according to Concepcion, who came out to meet them, they’d gone to pay a call on Holt up at the Circle C. Mandy knew from the other woman’s worried expression that they meant to confront their half brother about what had happened to Angus, and about his attackers’ claims that they were riding with his outfit.

Mandy closed her eyes. God only knew what would happen.

“I’ll send somebody after them,” Kade said. “They’re on the wrong trail.” With that, he rode toward the barn, dismounted, and led his horse inside.

“He means to track those outlaws on his own,” Mandy confided to Concepcion while they were alone, deliberately neglecting to mention Cree. “When Rafe and Jeb get back here, tell them to come quick and bring all the help they can round up.”

Concepcion paled. “What about you?”

“I mean to follow Kade. I’ll pretend to stay here, but once he’s got a start, I’ll be right behind him.”

“Mandy, you cannot do such a foolish thing—I will not allow it!”

“I have no choice,” Mandy said wistfully, watching as Kade led a fresh horse out of the barn. He carried his saddle and other tack over one shoulder, and he didn’t even glance in her direction as he got ready to ride again. “I’m probably the only person who can keep Kade from getting himself killed. Please, Concepcion, if you care about him, and I know you do, then help me.”

Tears stood in Concepcion’s eyes. “Kade and Rafe and Jeb, they are like sons to me, all of them. I could not bear for anything to happen to them.”

“Then help me,” Mandy pleaded softly. She described the canyon, gave its location as best she could, so Rafe and the others could catch up.

Concepcion hesitated, then nodded.

Mandy got down from Dickie’s back, led the horse toward the barn, giving Kade a wide berth. He finished saddling the horse, got on, and rode off.

Half an hour later, that being as long as Mandy could restrain herself, she picked up his trail.

K
ade was so caught up in his thoughts that he was well on his way before he realized, to his chagrin, that he was being followed. It didn’t take a Supreme Court justice to work out who was behind him, though. He drew up behind a pile of red boulders and waited, and sure enough, Mandy came by shortly thereafter.

She had the shotgun out of the scabbard and aimed square at his belly in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

“Jehoshaphat!” she cried, lowering the weapon, slipping it back into its scabbard. “You scared the hell out of me—I thought you were Gig.”

Kade rode toward her, purely confused as to whether he was glad to see her or mad as hell that she’d disobeyed his orders. He decided on both. “You don’t take instruction too well,” he observed.

“That’s right, I don’t.” Mandy looked as if she could spit red-hot cobbler’s nails at any further provocation. “If you want me to stay behind, you’ll have to tie me to a tree, and I don’t see you doing that.”

“The suggestion has a certain appeal.” Kade leaned a little in the saddle, with an accompanying creak of leather.

Her horse was fidgety, anxious to get on with things, which only went to prove the animal had no more sense than its rider. She subdued the critter with a few quick words and some deft rein-work, then fixed her determined gaze on Kade. He felt it like a slap across the face. “I want your word that you won’t kill my brother.”

“I can’t give it,” he replied without hesitation. “If he draws on me, I’ll take him down.”

“What if you’re not fast enough?”

“I’m fast enough.”

She went pale. “I don’t want you to get shot,” she said, real soft. “Or him, either.”

“Then we’re in agreement on one thing, at least. There’ll be as little bloodshed as possible, Mandy. That’s all I can promise.”

She absorbed that, and he suppressed an untimely urge to take her into his arms and hold her close. With the sun headed steadily west, though, and Cree Lathrop’s roost still a fair distance away, he didn’t have the option.

“All right,” she said. Then she reined the gelding back onto what passed for a road. “You coming?” she asked, turning to look at Kade over one shoulder.

For no good reason he could think of, he laughed.

They traveled swiftly after that, and in silence, leaving the trail after a couple of miles and riding overland, in case lookouts were posted along the way. The gang was big, at least twenty strong if Pappy Kincaid could be believed, and they had the manpower to cover a lot of ground.

Twilight was gathering when they reached the rim of the canyon, leaving their horses behind to crawl onto the edge of one wall and look down on the campsite.

Kade counted twenty-three men, in various states of drunkenness, and concluded that several more had to keep watch, but since no alarm had been raised, he and Mandy most likely hadn’t been spotted. Cree was clearly visible, his dark hair gleaming in the light of a sizable bonfire, his upper body bare and bloody. Nearby was the body of Gig Curry, tied to a spindly tree, his throat slit from one ear to the other.

Kade reached over to press a hand to Mandy’s mouth before she could cry out. “Take it easy, Mandy,” he whispered. “If we draw their attention right now, we’re as good as dead.”

She nodded, her shoulders trembling, and he withdrew his hand. Except for a glance or two at Mandy, he’d kept his gaze fixed on Cree Lathrop the whole while, and now he saw the other man pause, turn slowly, and stare in their direction. He couldn’t possibly have seen them, or heard anything, but uncannily, he seemed to know they were there, just the same.

“Shit,” Kade rasped.

“I think I can reason with him, Kade,” Mandy said. “I’ve got to go down there.”

“The hell you do!’

Cree took a tentative step in their direction, seeming to sniff the wind like a wolf scenting prey.

Mandy scrambled to her feet before Kade could drag her down, and caught him square in the side of his head with one bootheel in the next moment, no doubt because that was the only way she could keep him from stopping her, and from following.

He swore under his breath even as darkness pooled around him and swallowed his brain whole. When he came around seconds later, Mandy was headed downhill on foot, slipping and skidding. Kade struggled to focus his eyes and gather his wits, and when he did, he realized that she’d left her shotgun behind.

I’d never go anyplace without my shotgun,
he heard her say.

Damn it. God
damn
it. She was taking on that whole band of outlaws unarmed, and worst of all, she was doing it to save his sorry hide. She probably had some fool notion that he needed the gun to protect himself.

He watched, helpless, as Cree came forward to meet her, at home on his sacred ground; she flung her arms around his neck and clung to him, blood and all. Every instinct Kade possessed urged him to go after her, but he didn’t move. He had no alternative, at the moment, but to trust Mandy with his life and her own. Her plan was woefully inadequate, but he didn’t have a better one at the moment.

The Apache held her at a little distance, looking her over. Kade couldn’t read the other man’s expression from that distance, but he knew by the way Lathrop held himself that he was suspicious.

Mandy talked fast, and Kade would have given a strip of tender skin to know what she was saying, but all he could make out was the prattling lilt of her voice, the words just beyond the bounds of his hearing.

Careful not to move too quickly and risk drawing someone’s notice, Kade wiped the blood from the side of his head, trying to think. There’d been no call for Mandy to kick him quite so hard, he was sure of that, if not much else.

He watched, like a man trapped in a nightmare, as Mandy allowed herself to be escorted into a pit of snakes. She didn’t so much as glance in the direction of Gig Curry’s body, hanging there, bled out like a pig at rendering time, nor did she give any indication that she’d brought company. Kade reached for the shotgun, sighted in on Lathrop’s head just to make himself feel better, then laid the gun aside and waited. The thing was no good at that range, anyhow, and if he fired it, the rest would be on him in seconds—after they’d shot Mandy.

One of the outlaws, clad in a stolen cavalry coat like many of the others, rose shakily to his feet, approached Mandy, spoke to her. Lathrop’s pistol sprang into his hand as if it had flown there, and he shot the poor bastard in the belly, watched with what was probably satisfaction as he fell, and looked around to see if any of the others had a word to say to his sister.

Not surprisingly, none did.

Mandy didn’t move a muscle, though she was too smart not to be terrified. God, she was a marvel—and when Kade got his hands on her, he meant to wring her neck. Right after that, he’d tell her that he loved her and ask her to forgive him for all the stupid things he’d said and done. Hell, he’d beg if he had to, and gladly, because if they got to that point, it would mean they were both alive.

“Easy,” Kade whispered, with his heart pushing its way into his throat as he eased one hand back for his .45. “Take it easy, Mandy.”

That was when he heard a gun being cocked behind him; before he could draw his pistol, roll over, and fire, he felt the barrel pressed, cold as spring breakup, into the nape of his neck.

“Looks like the fun’s not over yet,” said the outlaw. “We got us a McKettrick.”