Love's Bounty

by Rosanne Bittner

  They all rode on in near silence then, each man, and Callie, watching every foothold, every boulder, every tumble of gravel and dirt. The horses seemed to sense the need to be extra cautious. Suddenly, one of the horses being herded balked and whinnied, stumbling slightly but staying on all fours. That horse was right in front of Joe, and Joe immediately reined his horse to a halt and dismounted, taking the animal by the reins and patting the horse ahead of him on the rump, talking quietly to the animal and urging it to keep going.

  It took a few minutes for Callie’s heart to stop beating so hard it hurt her chest, and she, too, decided to get down and lead Betsy, choosing to walk up the rest of the way. She looked back at Chris, who remained mounted on Night Wind. The horse had so far proved to be levelheaded and obedient, even today on this steep bank. Breeze had been surprisingly well behaved so far, but then, no one was riding him. It seemed it was only when a human was on his back that he got stubborn.

  When they neared the top, she heard Buck calling out to someone, and all down the line men shouted to hold up. She halted Betsy and shaded her eyes to see what was going on. Two men with rifles were guarding what looked like a narrow opening that was probably the last obstacle to reaching the top. It looked like Buck was talking to them.

  “Outlaws guarding the place,” Chris told her.

  Callie’s stomach took a flip. More new men—more outlaws. Maybe these weren’t as friendly or respectful as Buck and his men. And maybe…just maybe…she would recognize one of them.

  The two guards finally moved out of the way to let Buck through, and the whole procession made the last of the climb, finally reaching the top. They first had to ride through the small “hole” in the wall’s top rim where the guards had been. Once through that, the trail opened onto the grassy top of the mesa, the famed Hole-in-the-Wall, where outlaws liked to take their rest.

  “Here we are!” Skinny called out. “You can see forever up here. And I mean forever! Up here we can fatten up stolen cattle, graze and rebrand stolen horses, then take them down for resale. While we’re up here, ain’t nobody gonna bother us.” He looked back at Callie. “You can see for yourself that that little crack in the wall we came through—hell, a couple of men with Winchesters can stand there and hold off a whole posse of men tryin’ to scramble up here. It’s pretty much impossible for lawmen to make it up here without bein’ seen and stopped, usually with a bullet.”

  Callie could readily understand what he meant. When they reached the top, she literally gasped at the sight, wondering if she was actually looking at Montana to the north or Colorado to the south. That was how far it seemed she could see. For miles on end in any direction there was nothing but more mountain ranges, and in some places open, flat land stretched out so far, she felt almost like a god up here. “Lordy,” she whispered.

  “Quite a view, isn’t it?” Chris said, dismounting and coming closer.

  “Sure is. Almost makes you want to whisper.”

  “Well, if we don’t find the men you’re after, you at least have seen a good share of country you never would have seen otherwise.”

  Callie kept turning in circles to gaze. “I sure never would,” she said, feeling almost hypnotized by the view. “Lordy,” she repeated. “This is really something.”

  Chris paused to light a cigarette. “Keep quiet about why we’re here,” he said, keeping his eyes on the men and horses ahead of them. “I talked to Buck last night, told him to let on that you and I ride with his gang. From what I can tell, there are maybe fifteen or twenty other men up here. If you recognize anybody, don’t show it. Understand?”

  “It won’t be easy, but I’ll try.”

  “Don’t just try. Do it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you’re my girl. Got that?”

  Callie frowned and turned to him. “Your girl?”

  Chris rolled his eyes. “Yeah. It’s the only way to be pretty sure nobody up here will get ideas about you. They’ll figure that if they offend me, they offend Buck’s whole gang of outlaws, which wouldn’t exactly be healthy for them.”

  “You mean we’re supposed to be married?”

  Chris took the cigarette from his lips and met her gaze squarely. “No. Women who run with outlaws aren’t exactly the type who marry.”

  Callie’s eyes widened. “You mean I’m a—”

  “No.” He cut her off. “And keep your voice down.” He took a deep drag on the cigarette. “Callie, there are some women who are good at heart and who are faithful to their men—who’d follow them to the ends of the earth even if the men don’t marry them.”

  “Why in heck would they do that?”

  Chris snickered and shook his head. “Never mind. Just believe me, will you? Being that kind of woman doesn’t make you a whore. Men like this will understand and respect the difference. But there will always be some who think you’re loose and available. Anybody makes trouble, let me take care of it.”

  Callie pouted. “Okay, but I don’t like anybody thinking like that about me. I’d never go off with a man without a ring on my finger!”

  Chris put the cigarette back to his lips. “I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

  He walked off then, leading his horse and the mules. Callie followed him toward a large log building, grabbing her hat when the wind nearly blew it off, a much cooler breeze than down below. Buck had said that up here in the winter the winds were a lot worse, and cold enough to freeze your nose “to where you could snap it right off if you weren’t careful.” He’d explained that the couple of log buildings had been built mainly as shelter from those winds.

  Chris halted Breeze beside the cabin and began unloading some of his gear. “We’ll stay the night here, go back down in the morning. Take a good look at new faces before we go. Unload whatever we need for ourselves and stash the rest of our supplies next to the cabin here. If we set up against this wall, we’ll be out of the wind. Tether the horses and put some coffee on.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get you some wood. There’s a pile on the other side of the cabin, and I already know it’s for sale to men who come up here needing firewood. Then I’m going inside and mix with some of the men. I’ll see what I can casually find out on my own. I’ll come for you later, and you can go inside and look around. If you happen to see a familiar face, don’t say anything to the man. Just wait till I come back and let me know. And don’t come running inside for me. I told you I’ll be back out, and I will. An outlaw’s woman doesn’t go searching for him in taverns, and she doesn’t go walking alone into taverns full of outlaws. She waits for her man to take her inside.”

  Callie shrugged. “Whatever you say.” Her man? That was an uncomfortable way to have to pretend.

  “I just hope we can pull this off,” he told her, taking his saddle off his horse and dropping it next to the cabin. “You sure as hell don’t look the part. Maybe I should say you’re my daughter, or my little sister.”

  Now she felt her dander rising. “I don’t look near young enough to be your daughter, Mr. Christian Mercy,” she answered, yanking at the cinch under Betsy’s belly. “And you don’t need to refer to me as a little sister!” She grabbed her own saddle and slammed it to the ground. “Do you want me to remove this hat and let my hair down? Would that help?”

  There was that look again, those blue eyes moving down, then up again. “Might not hurt. But just let the hair down. Don’t go cleaning up and trying to make yourself look too fetching. Then the other men here will get other ideas. When you belong to one man, you don’t try to look good for any other men.”

  Did he think she really could look fetching? “All right.” She took off her floppy hat and tossed it aside, then quickly ripped the combs and pins from her hair, letting the auburn waves fall over her shoulders. “There. That good enough?”

  Damn if she didn’t catch something in his look—almost like he was impressed…no…startled…no…it was more like…like a sudde
n look of desire! Why did that please her?

  He nodded with a deep sigh. “Yeah. That’s good enough.” He looked her over again before turning to walk away, and Callie put a hand to her heart, leaning against the cabin wall.

  “Lordy,” she whispered.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Callie set the coffeepot on the fire. She started to sit down on her saddle, the only thing handy for a seat, but before she made it all the way down, someone came from around the corner of the cabin. She quickly stood up and turned, squinting against a setting sun that made it impossible to see the face of whoever stood nearby.

  She stepped back, taking a quick look around to see if Chris was nearby, but right now most of the men were either inside the cabin or out tending their livestock.

  “What do you want, mister?” she asked, reaching behind her to grab hold of the barrel of her father’s shotgun that she’d left leaning against the cabin wall. The man made no move for his own six-gun as she brought the shotgun up.

  “Heard tell there was a real honest-to-God female out here. Figured I’d come have a look,” he answered.

  Callie leveled the shotgun at his midsection. “Well, you’ve had your look, so be on your way.”

  He didn’t budge.

  “My man is right inside, and he’s got a temper,” she warned.

  “That so?”

  “That’s so. And he’s right good with a gun.”

  The man chuckled. “You don’t need to be so unfriendly, missy. I just wanted a look, that’s all.”

  “Like I said. You’ve had it, so get going.”

  “Well, I would, except I happen to know you’re looking for a man with a mole on his right cheek. I’m told this man once ran with a son of a bitch named Terrence Stowers.”

  Callie lowered the shotgun slightly, excitement beginning to fill her heart. “You know him?”

  “I might.”

  “What do you mean might? Do you or don’t you?”

  “I mean that while your man’s inside, I thought if you wanted the information bad enough, you might give me a nice, sweet kiss…maybe let me have a feel of your soft parts, you know? Nothin’ real bad. Just a feel.”

  Callie’s excitement turned to anger. She raised the shotgun again. “Well, you figured wrong, mister! Get the hell away from me!”

  He chuckled again. “Well, now, I know you won’t shoot me, because then I’d be dead, and you wouldn’t have the information you want. Your man inside there, he talked like you wanted to find these men real bad, said as how they’d killed your ma and all, it was real important to you. So I figured that means it’s important enough to pay somethin’ for the information you want. I just happen to be willing to take somethin’ besides money. When a man’s been without for a long time, some things become more important than money. Know what I mean?”

  “I know exactly what you mean, you scummy coward!” Callie noticed the man stiffen, and she pulled back one hammer of the double-barreled gun. “Seems to me like you overestimated what I’d give for the information I need. I suggest you go back and talk to my man about it. He might have a slightly different idea what the information is worth.”

  The man stood there quietly for a moment, flexing his fingers. “Well, your man is in there drinkin’ up a storm and sittin’ down to a card game. I don’t think he much cares what’s goin’ on out here, if that’s what you’re worried about. He might not even mind if you let some other man have a feel of what’s under that shirt to get the information you want.”

  “I’m the one who cares, and if you make one move toward me, I’ll open your belly, I swear!” Callie meant every word of it, but even with the shotgun pointed right at him, she was terrified. What the heck was she supposed to do? This man knew something. She couldn’t let him get away, but she sure as hell couldn’t let him have what he wanted just to tell her what she needed to know. How could she even be sure he knew anything at all?

  The man sighed, putting up his hands as though defending himself. “Okay, lady. You can’t blame a man for tryin’, can you? I was just testin’ you out to see if you really did belong to the man inside. No real harm meant.”

  “So you say.”

  “It’s true, ma’am.”

  “Then tell me about the man with the mole on his cheek. Where is he?”

  The man scratched his chin. “What else you got to offer? You got any money?”

  “That’s something to talk to my man about, not me.” Callie wasn’t even sure if she should use Chris’s name. Maybe he didn’t want some of these men to know it. “Why don’t you step around to where I can see your face better?”

  “Not till you tell me how you know for sure that this man killed your ma.”

  Callie began to feel suspicions. “I just know, that’s all. And…and he wasn’t alone. There were others.”

  “Others?”

  Callie’s heart pounded harder. Where was Chris? Was he really inside drinking? What the heck should she tell this man? Maybe he knew more than he was letting on. “You heard me.”

  “Where did this happen?”

  “What’s it to you? All that matters is whether or not you’ve seen the man who fits the description you heard. You don’t need to know anything else, so speak up or go about your business!”

  “Well, now, ain’t you the bossy one?”

  “Call it what you like. I think you might as well git, mister. I don’t think you know a damn thing!”

  Quick as a flash the man grabbed her gun barrel and pushed up, shoving Callie against the wall of the cabin. “I know more than you think, missy!” He sneered. “And I’ll take my pay now!”

  Now Callie could see his face. He was one of them, the one with no distinctive marks! He grasped for a breast, and before Callie could even react, the man jolted away from her. The coffeepot went flying and spilled its contents as the bodies of two men landed in the fire, her attacker’s back buried in the hot coals…Christian Mercy holding him there. A couple of the bullets in her attacker’s gun belt exploded from the heat, and the man jerked and let out bloodcurdling screams as the exploded bullets opened wounds in his already burning back. The screams brought more men running.

  Callie leveled her rifle at the other men as Chris yanked her attacker off the coals and landed a hard fist into his face. Blood squirted instantly from a split lip, and the man whirled to the right and landed facedown, his shirt, vest, and the skin on his back still smouldering, while at the same time blood seemed to be everywhere, all from the wounds caused by the exploded bullets.

  Quickly Chris yanked the man’s six-gun from its holster and tossed it aside before shoving him over onto his back. The man screamed again, letting off a volley of curses from his pain. Callie watched the rest of the men, who included Buck and some of his men. They all stood back, seeming to acknowledge this was between Chris and the man he wrestled.

  Chris straddled the man, whipping out his six-gun and holding it against one of the man’s ears. “Now, let’s hear about your friend, mister! The one with the mole on his cheek! You’ll tell me for no pay at all, or I’ll fire this gun and you’ll be deaf in this ear for life, let alone losing the ear itself! You want the extra pain?”

  The man squirmed and screamed more, actually beginning to cry. “Let me up! Let me up! God Almighty, my back! My back!”

  Chris cocked his pistol. “Where’s the man with the mole on his cheek?” he growled.

  “Ooohhh, my back!” the man screamed again.

  Chris fired, and Callie jumped in surprise. She noticed that even some of the ruffians standing and watching looked surprised. A few of them grimaced as her attacker screamed even louder, putting his hands to the sides of his head and rolling to his knees when Chris got off him. Blood poured through the fingers of his left hand where he was holding his injured ear.

  “My God, stop him!” The man wept. “Somebody stop him!”

  Callie waved her shotgun at the rest of them. “Anybody tries to stop him, I’ll shoot him
myself!”

  Chris glanced at her, then leveled his own six-gun at the others. “This is between me and him,” he said.

  Callie noticed his shirt was covered with the other man’s blood.

  Buck looked around at the others, then pulled out his own gun. “This ain’t got nothin’ to do with any of you, so leave them be.”

  “Jesus!” one of the others muttered, stepping back farther when Chris kicked the wounded man onto his back again and pressed a booted foot against his throat, cutting off some of his air. Even Callie was surprised at his viciousness, considering what a soft-spoken, calm man he’d been up to now.

  “Where’s the man with the mole?” Chris repeated. “Do you want to lose your other ear?”

  The man just laid there, weeping, for several seconds. “N-n-no,” he finally managed to spit out. He screamed again when Chris grasped the front of his shirt and jerked him to a sitting position, then sat down on his legs. “Where is he?” he repeated.

  “R-ranch…about…thirty miles south of here…a little east of Outlaw Trail. Works for…Ben Bailey. It’s…Bailey’s ranch.” He started crying again as blood continued to pour from his wounded ear.

  “What’s the man’s name?” Chris asked. “The man with the mole?”

  The man literally sobbed. “Fallon…Jim…Fallon. Please, mister…leave me…be.”

  He screamed again when Chris shoved him back down, then stood up. He turned to Callie. “He hurt you?”

  At the moment, the look in his eyes frightened even Callie. “No, sir. Not really. But…he’s…he’s one of them. I recognize him.”

  Chris just stared at her a moment, then turned back to look down at the man he’d attacked. “You sure?” he asked without looking back.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chris again clicked back the hammer of his gun. “Well, my guess is he’s dying anyway.”

  He pulled the trigger, and Callie jumped again when a hole opened in the man’s forehead.

  “Lord have mercy,” one of the others muttered.