Stuck Together (Trouble in Texas Book #3) (22 page)

“Thank you. We have no idea where to search.” Missy sounded sweet and very grateful to the man for helping. And honestly, Tina was herself grateful. Everyone in town had helped. Even those whiskey-hustling Schuster brothers.

“I scouted this edge of town and thought I saw a footprint. Of course, that was after you two had come this way, and I ain’t done much trackin’ for a heap of years. But one of the shoes was different from the two of you. I think she went this way.” Tug began searching along the front of the rock wall.

“Wait!” Tina turned back to the rocks behind the stunted trees. “I want to look closer here.”

“Nuthin’ back there,” Tug said. “Best we head out of here. I think I see a track.” He pointed and started off again.

“You go ahead,” Tina said. She pushed the trees aside and leaned closer.

“I thought someone said she had her hound with her.” Tug’s voice was a mite too loud, and it drew Tina’s attention. Tug was looking at her hard, wanting her to stop what she was doing and get along after him right now.

“She does. Livvy’s missing, too.” Missy stood halfway between Tug and Tina, looking back and forth, as if unsure of who to follow.

“Well, the lady could fall and get knocked cold. It already happened once since she came to Broken Wheel. But the chance of her and the dog both being hurt, knocked into silence, is real unlikely.”

Tug had an excellent point. “So it’s doubtful she’s close by or we’d’ve heard one or the other of them.”

Missy gave Tina an impatient look. “Let’s keep hunting.”

The man was almost certainly right. Still, she couldn’t move on just yet. “Not until I’ve looked behind these trees. There’s something back here. Missy, can you . . . ?”

The harsh crack of a cocking gun spun Tina around to face Tug Andrews. He had a pistol aimed straight at her heart. He moved the business end of the gun toward Missy, then back to Tina. His eyes shone a cold, ruthless blue that scared Tina right to the bone.

“You shoulda come along when you had the chance, Miss Cahill. Now you’ve bought into the fight just like Mrs. Yates did.”

“Then y-you know w-where she is?” Missy stuttered, her eyes fixed on the gun.

“Yep, I know she’s in the cave behind those trees, because I put her there myself. Her and that cur of a dog.” Tug held up his hand, and Tina saw the bandage was soaked with blood. Tug’s blood. The dots—from what had most likely been a dog bite—had spread.

“What did you do to them?” Tina felt her fury rise at this man harming someone as decent and innocent as Mrs. Yates. “Did you kill them?”

“Nope. I ain’t no killer, ma’am, leastwise I don’t make a habit of it. Tyin’ up and muzzling that hound was about all I was worth. They’re both fine and secure in that cave. If you’d have walked on, I woulda spared you being bound. I woulda settled my business, then untied the addled woman and let her roam in the woods until you found her. But now I gotta put you in there, too. I’ll make sure your menfolk know where to find you later. But they won’t be gettin’ the note until I’m a fair piece away. I reckon it’ll be cold
and uncomfortable, but you saddled your own bronc by nosing around the wrong cave.”

Tug motioned toward the stand of trees. “Let’s go. Time for you to pay a visit to that loony woman and her nasty dog.”

All he had to do was climb a mountain, get up to Wilcox’s level, get the drop on him and arrest him. Vince had even brought shackles along—just like a real lawman.

Maybe seeing Wilcox clapped in irons would satisfy the angry Kiowa.

Vince remembered that it wasn’t just Red Wolf who’d been in danger because of this coyote. He’d also shot at Luke, with Dodger and Ruthy in the line of fire. Or maybe he hadn’t shot at anyone. Maybe with his head muddled from whiskey, he’d just fired his gun wild. Then like a low-down, no-account weasel, he’d blamed the shooting on someone else.

Vince would enjoy chaining him up for that alone.

The wall was mighty sheer, but not so bad Vince couldn’t handle it. He shed the buckskin coat. No need now to use the earth-toned coat to conceal himself. Wind cut through his shirt as he scaled the canyon wall.

Though the first stretch was almost straight up, there were enough handholds and toeholds to keep him moving so that he made good progress. As he climbed up the bluff, being careful not to make any sound, he saw that
the rock wall sloped inward the higher he got. And there were scattered stones that Vince was wary about trusting with his weight.

Soon the rock was sloping enough that Vince could go to crawling on his belly again, dragging himself along. At last he made it to the top and now was only a few dozen feet behind Wilcox. Pulling his gun, Vince watched Wilcox wobble, holding his gun more as a cane than as a weapon. He had the rifle in his right hand, braced on the ground, and a whiskey bottle in his left.

Seeing as how Wilcox had been drinking, and knowing the fool would be a poor one to reason with, when Wilcox went to take another drink from the bottle, Vince rushed him.

Vince made contact with Wilcox’s head with the butt of his gun. The man went down like a felled ox. It was a good day’s work. They’d be home in time for dinner.

Vince looked out and realized the rock Wilcox hid behind concealed all that had just happened. He’d need to signal Luke and the others. He was moving to snatch up Wilcox’s rifle when a gun cocked right behind him.

“Leave the rifle there and drop your own gun, Yates.” It was a voice Vince recognized. Tug Andrews, and he spoke without a bit of a drunken slur.

In his awkward position, bending, facing away, Vince knew he couldn’t hope to beat an already aimed pistol.

Slowly he straightened away from the rifle. The Regulators still didn’t know if Vince had gotten to the top of the canyon yet.

“The pistol, Sheriff,” Tug Andrews said. The man who ran the general store spoke in a hard, mocking tone that
Vince had never heard from him before. “Don’t start turning around before that gun hits the ground or I’ll shoot.”

Vince let it go, his teeth gritted. The gun struck the stony ground with a dull thud. As he turned, it came to Vince clear as day that Tug Andrews was another man in Broken Wheel who shipped things in, a man besides Duffy.

The twisting path they’d ridden to this canyon had led them close to Broken Wheel. Vince figured he even knew which bluff this was. From town it stood high and looked to be nothing but another hill. But if Tug had found a way into the canyon from the north, the side without an obvious opening, it’d make a likely hiding place for cases of whiskey. In this broken land there was every chance to be a cave that threaded all the way into the center of the canyon, or a rugged but passable trail that wound up and down the sides. Vince had just climbed it, which proved it could be done.

“I knew someone in town had to be supplying Wilcox with liquor,” Vince said. He hoped the old man would start talking and forget to keep his gun quite so level.

With a humorless laugh, Andrews said, “Duffy and Griss told me you accused them of it. I stirred ’em up good, was real offended for ’em. Good, honest, hardworkin’ folks like the Schusters gettin’ questioned by a lawman who works at a job that pays no money. It’s a shame is what it is.”

“What do you want from me?” Vince knew his Regulator friends; they were close by and on edge. Unfortunately Vince had told them to hang back and give him time. They’d be coming, but none too soon. Andrews couldn’t see them, not from where he was standing. So in a few minutes, hopefully, this was going to become four men
against one. Andrews would’ve been better off to run, but he didn’t know that, and Vince wasn’t about to warn him.

“If you’d’ve arrested Wilcox, he’d’ve sobered up and told you I sold him his whiskey. Then you’d’ve known I’m selling it to the Kiowa and Comanche, too. I’m leaving the territory, but I’ve got money and furs, all kinda things hidden in a cave down yonder. I’m not riding out without it.” Jerking his head, Tug took a step backward and pointed with his gun. “Head on down the trail. I just need you to stay quiet long enough for me to load up a couple of packhorses and get away. I won’t hurt anyone if I don’t have to.”

The cold way the old-timer spoke and the steady look in his eyes made Vince move mighty careful.

Picking his way down the steep trail, he heard Tug close behind him, but not too close. Before long they reached the bottom of the canyon. Vince kept an eye out for his friends, but he didn’t see any sign of them.

A gaping cave mouth was right near the trail’s base. “Go on inside,” Tug said. “I’ve got a big old surprise for you in there.”

A surprise? Vince wondered what he meant by that. He hoped it wasn’t a bullet in the back.

The cave opening seemed to swallow him up. The wind was cut off, and yet Vince felt colder than he had outside.

“Hold up!” Tug said. If the varmint really intended to tie Vince up, load up his cached wealth and take off, Vince should probably let him do it. Luke was the best of trackers. He’d find this place soon enough and set Vince free. But Tug would have to quit the country and do it fast. The question was, did the old-timer know he couldn’t move
fast enough? Did he know that to leave Vince alive meant almost certain capture?

A scratching noise sounded, and light popped up behind Vince. Tug had lit a match. Vince glanced back to see him touching a match to the wick of a lantern. Tug did it all without letting go of his gun. And he was well out of grabbing range.

“Thinkin’ of goin’ for my gun, Yates? Like I said, I don’t wanna shoot you, but I will if you don’t give me a choice.” Tug lifted the lantern off a peg driven into the rock wall. “Move on down the tunnel and say hello.”

The sneer on Tug’s face sent a chill up Vince’s spine. There was definitely something more coming. He moved faster, driven now to see what lay ahead. The tunnel was lit only by the lantern, though they hadn’t gone far when he saw more light ahead. The tunnel widened into a cave with its own lantern burning.

Mother, Missy, and Tina sat side by side on the cave floor, bound and gagged. They all stared right at Vince, their eyes wide with fear. He noticed that Mother’s gag was soaked, drenched by tears.

Tug Andrews had made Vince’s mother cry. Vince could feel his anger and frustration building by the second.

A soft whine drew Vince’s eyes to Livvy. The little hound lay between Mother and a stone about the size of Vince’s chest. Livvy’s mouth was muzzled by a strip of leather, and a rope around her neck was tied to the base of the stone. The dog lifted her head and strained against the rope when Vince came in. The high-pitched whine grew louder as the dog lunged over and over, each time followed by a muted yelp.

His stomach twisting, Vince glanced back at his weeping mother and his frightened sister, and then he looked in Tina’s eyes, hating to face her terror or her tears.

She was furious. She looked like she wanted to chew her way through that gag and start scolding Tug.

Vince rushed forward just as something slammed into the back of his head. He went down hard, to his knees, then collapsed face-first as the world faded away. The blow seemed to paralyze him. He felt his hands yanked behind his back, yet he was too dazed to fight back.

The man was good. He moved like someone who’d spent time as a cowhand. In mere seconds Tug had Vince tied up like a calf ready for branding.

Old Tug stood away from Vince, breathing hard. Even that much exertion wore him out. But who was lying here all trussed up and who was walking around free? Tug was a harder man than Vince had ever considered. He’d had enough strength to best all four of them and Livvy, too. Now here they all were, with Vince as helpless as his womenfolk. All of them were firmly in Tug’s clutches. And instead of rescuing them, he, Invincible Vince, lay here bound, his vision dark, his thoughts scrambled by that hard blow.

With his boot Tug rolled Vince onto his back. Vince kept his eyes closed, hoping Tug thought he’d been knocked insensible. When Tug nudged him with the same hard boot, Vince didn’t react.

The old man said, “I been tyin’ knots since I was a boy shanghaied onto a ship. Then later I spent time riding the grub line and learned how to hog-tie a thousand-pound steer. None’a you will be gettin’ loose, so don’t waste time
trying. I’ll leave a note in town where someone will find it, to tell ’em you’re in here.”

Vince, even in his groggy state, didn’t like the tone of Tug’s voice. Would he really leave a note? No matter, for Vince figured Luke would track them into this hole in the ground even if Tug didn’t tell anyone.

Tug laughed. “I got two packhorses stashed. I knew the minute word came in about Wilcox shootin’ that Indian, it was time for me to move on. I was most of the way to packed when you women stumbled onto my cave.”

An annoyed snort came from Tina. Vince wanted to break loose and beat the tar out of Andrews, but for now it suited him to lay still and let the man think he was safe. As soon as Tug left, Vince would go to work getting the knife out of his boot.

He couldn’t even test the ropes to see if he was able to reach his boot, but if he couldn’t, he’d roll over beside Tina and let her get it.

Tug was quiet for a long stretch, and Vince figured the varmint was staring at him, wondering if he was out cold or not. Finally, Tug stomped out of the cave.

Vince sat up and wheeled around to look at the women. Tina’s gaze locked on his, and the determination in her eyes helped clear the last of the fog out of his head.

Tina made an urgent sound from behind her gag.

“Just let me get my blade out first, and then I’ll cut you loose,” Vince whispered. He glanced at her, and she narrowed her eyes at him and said some muffled words he couldn’t understand. He figured if she could talk, she’d start in with scolding him about something.

She was going to have to wait, though it was good to see
that being imprisoned didn’t break her spirit. He reached for his boot, twisting his hands tied behind his back. The knots were tight. Vince got his fingers close to his right boot, but he couldn’t quite get his fingers to the knife.

A deep growl sounded from Tina, but he didn’t even look up. Just another inch . . . He stretched his fingers against the bonds, trying to get just that little bit . . .

Tina landed in his lap.

Vince lifted his eyes to find she’d rolled toward him and tossed herself onto him. She then rolled away and waved her tightly bound hands so that he could see—the little woman had a knife in her hands.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he said.

Tina gave him a furious look, and he flashed a smile at her, then dumped her unceremoniously onto the cave floor. He turned his back to her and took the knife.

He had his ropes slashed in seconds, made quick work of getting his feet free, and cut the ties on Tina’s hands loose just as footsteps tromped toward the cave.

Vince jumped up as Tina worked on freeing herself. He knew she was right where Tug could see her when he stepped into the cave, so he dragged her back to the wall even as she got her feet untied.

Vince rushed to the cave entrance, looked around and found the exact thing he needed: a nice-sized rock. He saw Tina working on Missy’s hands, and Vince hissed at her and waved for her to sit still. Tug Andrews wouldn’t notice that her ankle ropes were gone, not for a few seconds, coming from the light into the dark. And since Vince had been knocked down out of the direct line of sight from the
entrance, he was hoping Tug would just come right on in. Vince only needed a couple of steps.

Tug came in whistling. The old fool was a happy man. Well, Vince was about to make him mighty unhappy. Tug took two steps, looked to his left where Vince was supposed to be, which exposed the back of his head to Vince. And that was enough.

Vince brought the rock down on Tug’s head, returning the favor of Tug’s blow.

Tug crumpled to the ground, hitting the unforgiving rock hard. Vince disarmed Tug a lot more thoroughly than Tug had disarmed him—or Tina, come to that. It felt good to regain possession of his own pistol.

A scrape from the far tunnel brought Vince’s head up. He aimed as Luke poked his head in. With a sigh of relief, Vince holstered the gun. “Tie him up, will you?”

“Sure . . . Tug Andrews?”

Vince nodded. “Yep, he boasted of selling liquor to Wilcox, the Kiowa and the Comanche.” He was about to check on the women just as Tina jerked her gag free. Missy was loose, so Tina turned her attention to Mother. Missy gently helped Livvy out of the muzzle and cut the rope around her neck. The dog went wild barking as if all that noise had been backing up this whole time.