“Once more, Callie,” Chris whispered. “Just in case it’s the last time.”
“It won’t be,” she answered in a near whimper. “It can’t be.”
“Then we won’t let it be.”
He entered her softly, slowly, both of them with their shirts still on; and it was just as sweet and beautiful as if they were stretched out comfortably in a nice bed with satin sheets. They didn’t need all that. All they needed was each other, and the love they shared.
Intense passion swept through Callie as again she reminded herself this truly could be the last time they did this.
No! God wouldn’t let that happen. Surely He wouldn’t. Chris deserved love and happiness now. She arched up to him in sweet abandon, wanting every inch of him, aching to please him, to show him how much she loved him. They moved in blissful rhythm, each taking and giving at the same time. Each time they did this, Callie discovered new pleasure. It was never the same, yet always fulfilling, exciting, and the most pleasurable thing she’d ever experienced.
She cried out with ecstasy when he again brought forth the deep pulsating that caused her to dig her fingers into his shoulders and accept his surging thrusts with intense desire. He groaned her name as his life surged into her, and afterward he continued to kiss her, over and over, clinging tightly to her.
“I can’t lose you,” he told her. “I’m sorry, Callie. I’m sorry, but I can’t stop myself. I have to find those men.”
“It’s okay,” she soothed, gently running her fingers through his hair. “I understand all of it, and it’s the same for me.”
He sighed, resting his face next to hers. “I just didn’t expect things to turn out like this. I didn’t expect to get so involved with the person I’m supposed to be working for. I sure as hell didn’t expect to fall in love.”
She leaned up and kissed him. “Neither did I. But now I believe this was all meant to be. And you have more healing to do than I do, Chris. It’s such an awful, awful thing you found. There can’t be anything worse than something like that happening to a little child, and to be your own.” She traced her fingers over his lips. “I love you so much. Don’t ever be sorry for anything. Even if this turns out bad, you’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be. And I sure never dreamed I’d end up with a man like you loving the likes of me. You’ve helped heal my bad memories, and I want to help heal yours. I know part of that means finding those men, so we’ll do it. With God’s help, we’ll do it.”
He moved away from her, pulling a blanket back over both of them. “Sorry I woke you up like that.”
“Heck, you can wake me up anytime if it’s to make love, and especially if it keeps you away from women like Lisa.”
Again her honesty made him laugh, and they fell back to sleep in each other’s arms.
Chapter Thirty-nine
“Oh, lordy, Chris.”
They rode only a few miles south of Green River before coming upon the most rugged, unforgiving-looking country Callie had seen yet. It was a maze of red-rock canyons, their high walls topped by flat, rocky mesas, and, at the bottom, pure desert, hard, parched flats where only sparse scrub brush grew.
Chris shifted in his saddle and took a moment to light a cigarette. “It’s hard country, Callie,” he told her after taking a deep drag on the smoke. “And you’d better keep a good lookout this time for snakes. That’s about the only form of life out here. That’s why I stocked up on more potatoes and canned goods before we left. We might find a rabbit or two, but otherwise there’s not much for food.”
Callie shook her head. “It looks…violent.”
“Like the men who occupy it.”
Callie swallowed, studying dark ridges where high canyon walls blocked the sun, a maze of gullies and gulches, spiraling rocks, and from what she could see, not a drop of water in sight.
“What happens when our canteens run dry?”
“Well, believe it or not, there is water out there, natural springs. You just have to know where to look for them. Men who hide out here know where they are. Most others don’t. That’s why the law doesn’t like to trail a man into this country. I know of a couple who came in here, never to return. Most think they probably just got lost and died of thirst and exposure.”
“Do you know where the springs are?”
He took another drag on the cigarette. “Enough of them to keep us alive.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “Healthy alive? Or just barely alive?”
Chris laughed. “Would I bring you here if I thought you’d die of thirst?”
Callie adjusted her hat to keep the sun out of her eyes. “I reckon not.”
“Now, there is a word you have to stop using.”
“What?”
“Reckon. The way you use it, it’s just slang.”
“What’s slang?”
Chris laughed again. “Never mind. You ready to ride through these canyonlands?”
Callie sighed. “I guess I have no choice.” She studied the savage land before her a moment longer. Other than a splatter of sage and junipers as far as the eye could see, everything else was red. Red soil, red rocks, red canyon walls, so much red that even the sky seemed to take on a red hue. “One thing for sure, I’ve seen a lot of country on this trip.” She looked at Chris. “We sure have traveled a long way together, haven’t we?”
Chris nodded. “Sure have. It’s been a pleasure, Miss Hobbs.”
“Same here, Mr. Mercy.”
Chris smiled sadly. “Let’s get started. If we’re lucky, we can make thirty miles in one day. We just might make it to Hanksville by tomorrow night. Depends on how things go. Then, if we’re real lucky, we’ll find the men we want still there, which means we won’t have to go into Robber’s Roost. That’s a tricky journey, through the worst of those canyons. If something happened to me, you’d never find your way out.”
He started down a steep, rocky escarpment into land that just seemed to drop down from where they’d been for no reason at all. Callie likened it to riding down into hell and leaving the rest of the world behind. The July heat was only going to make things more unbearable. Chris rode on Blackfoot and led Night Wind behind him; Callie rode Breeze today, leading Sundance.
“What’s Robber’s Roost like?” Callie asked.
“Well, getting there isn’t easy,” Chris called back to her, “but once you’re there, it’s just a huge, open, flat area where there are actually a couple of ranches and a fairly large log building where men can get whiskey and food. A couple of the women who live there are actually married to outlaws.”
“I can’t imagine living way out there like that. They must get awful lonely.”
“I’m sure they do.” Once he reached the bottom, Chris slowed his horse so Callie could catch up. “At any rate, it’s a good place to graze cattle stolen in Nevada or Utah; then they take them on east and sell them in the mining camps of Colorado.”
“Seems to me like an awful hard way to make money. Why can’t they just have their own ranches and live life the normal way?”
Chris shrugged. “It’s just the way some men are. They aren’t made to settle anywhere. Some are brought up that way and don’t know any better.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re the settling kind.”
Chris took a last drag on his cigarette. “Well, all the roaming around I’ve done the last few years, I can sometimes understand why some men never settle. But I’m tired of it, Callie. I’ve discovered that all the running doesn’t change anything that happened. The memories go with you wherever you are.”
“Yes, sir, they do.”
Chris sighed as he crushed out his cigarette. “From here on we’d better not talk too much. It uses energy, and the more you open your mouth, the faster it will dry out.”
“Well then, I’m in trouble, that’s sure.”
Chris laughed hard at the remark. “You’ll learn not to talk so much when you realize your life depends on it. The other reason is that in some places along t
hese canyons your voice echoes incredibly far. We don’t need to be letting the likes of the men who lurk in these places know that we’re here. Those canyons are filled with caves and places where men hole up. Some are even makeshift saloons, believe it or not.”
Callie shook her head in wonder at the unusual capabilities and inventiveness of men running from the law. She kept quiet then, riding alongside Chris for mile upon mile of sun and sand, stopping only when Chris signaled they should stop and water the horses with their canteens.
Late in the day Chris led her into a deep crevasse between two high walls, where to Callie’s surprise water bubbled out of the ground, feeding a stream of water that did not trail very far before drying up. They refilled their canteens at the natural spring, then let the horses drink from it. All the while Chris motioned for Callie not to speak, so she kept quiet about how exciting it was to find the little spring of water in the midst of such desolation. She was so hot, she wondered if the sun was actually frying her, and she made sure to keep her hat low to shield its light and help keep from getting more freckles.
They kept going then until it was too dark to see, sometimes dismounting and walking to relieve the horses of their weight, then changing horses so that Blackfoot would carry Callie’s lighter weight for a while. By the time they stopped to sleep, Callie was glad they had made love the night before. She was so weary, it was out of the question tonight.
They tethered the horses, spread out their bedrolls, and ate just a little—raw potatoes and beans out of a can, drinking only water. Then they both collapsed on their bedrolls, speaking only a little, and in whispers, before they both became lost in much-needed sleep.
The next day brought more of the same—endless riding toward an endless horizon, sometimes forced to weave through canyons, where Chris led Callie to yet another spring. Callie knelt down and splashed some of the cold water on her face, relishing the temporary relief. She removed her hat and splashed more through her hair, then cupped her hands and took a long drink. When she rose, Chris grasped her arm and leaned close.
“Don’t look around,” he told her softly, “but someone is watching us.”
Callie’s chest tightened. “How do you know?” she whispered.
“I saw something flash in the cliffs in front of us, probably a rifle barrel. Act natural.”
Callie turned around to check the horses. Act natural? How was she supposed to do that? She was shaking like a leaf. She led Breeze to the spring and let him drink. Chris brought Blackfoot around for the same, maneuvering the horse so he could stand next to Callie and between the horses.
“What the heck should we do?” Callie whispered.
“Water the horses and ride out. Whoever is up there, he’s probably keeping watch for someone else. If we don’t make any trouble, they might leave us alone. Then again, they might be eyeing our horses and supplies.”
“And they might shoot us!” Callie squeaked.
Chris put a finger to her lips. “We’ll walk the horses out, keeping on this side of them so they are between us and whoever is up there. Soon as we reach the open flats, mount up, then ride like hell. We’ll put some distance between us and them and hope they don’t bother to follow.”
“They?”
“You can bet there is more than one. Once we start riding, bend over low so we’re not an easy target. Most men won’t shoot a good horse.”
“Oh, that’s nice to know,” Callie answered sarcastically.
They let the other two horses drink, then began leading them out of the canyon, the sound of their hooves striking rock echoing loudly. Callie’s heart beat so hard, she had trouble finding her breath. They finally made the open land, then casually mounted up.
“Let’s go!” Chris said then. Riding Breeze, he whipped the horse into a full-out gallop. Callie rode Night Wind today, and it was a good thing. He had the wind and the power to keep up, but both of them were slowed a little by Blackfoot and Sundance, who weren’t quite the runners their two counterparts were. Still, Callie felt they were making damn good time, and when she looked behind her, she saw only a cloud of red dust left by their own horses.
They rode as far and for as long as Chris guessed the horses could manage, then Chris headed for a spill of rocks ahead of them. They both charged behind the rocks and dismounted, and Callie yanked her shotgun from its boot while Chris pulled out both his Winchesters. He handed one to her. “We’ll wait behind these rocks to see if anyone follows,” he told her. Both crouched and waited, holding the reins to the panting, lathered horses, listening, watching. Finally they heard the sound of approaching horses.
“Shit!” Chris swore. “Stay low! I’m going up in the rocks above for a better angle.”
“Chris!” Callie turned to see him heading for higher ground. She cocked the spare Winchester and leveled it, supporting the barrel on top of a rock and waiting until four men appeared. She knew they could see the horses. The rock formation was not big enough to hide them. She was herself well protected by the rocks, but having to keep her rifle ready meant they could see her head.
All four men stopped. They wore long denim dusters and were well outfitted with weapons.
“Afternoon, kid,” one of them said.
“State your intentions,” Callie answered the man who had spoken. “If they aren’t proper, I’ll blow your head off!”
The man, who was tall and young, looked at the rider next to him, and both men laughed. The first man turned back to Callie. “Well, that’s about as unhospitable a greeting as I’ve ever heard,” he told her.
“That’s as friendly as I intend to get. Why are you following us?”
The man looked around at the rocks above. “Speaking of us, where’s the man who was with you?”
“None of your business. Be on your way and we’ll be on ours. We aren’t here to cause any trouble.”
The man leaned forward slightly. “You female?”
“Yes, sir. Now get going!”
The man pushed his hat back slightly. Callie quickly glanced at the other three men, two of them middle-aged, the other young like the first. They all were dusty and needed a shave, but that was to be expected in country like this. She was covered with red dust herself. The men in front of her were otherwise dressed pretty decently; but their array of weapons told her they were accustomed to violence.
The first man leaned on his saddle horn. “Well, now, the man with you wouldn’t be the law, would he?”
“No, sir, he wouldn’t.”
“You runnin’ from the law?”
Callie wasn’t sure how to answer. “Might be.”
“Well, then, you don’t have to be afraid of us. You’re out here for the same reason we are. This is outlaw country, and anybody on that side of the law is welcome.”
“Well, sir, the very fact that this is outlaw country is why I’m holding this rifle on you. Don’t make me use it. You’re awful young.”
All four of them laughed. “You really know how to use that thing?” one of them asked.
“Good enough to open a hole in your belly,” Callie answered. “I’ve heard that’s a real hard way to die. Fact is, my friend and I left a man to die that way, a long way north of here, up by Hole-in-the-Wall. You ever been there?”
They looked at each other, appearing a little astonished. “Sure have,” the first man answered.
One of the others lit a thin cigar. “Where you headed?”
“None of your business,” Callie answered. “Just like it’s none of mine where all of you are going. Just be on your way.”
The first man shook his head. “I don’t know, ma’am. That’s mighty fine-looking horseflesh you have there. Interested in selling those horses?”
“And walk out of here? Why don’t you be honest and just say it out. You want our horses and supplies. Well, you can’t have them, so get going!”
The young man just grinned. “Well, ma’am, I’ll tell you what. I don’t think you’re that good of an aim. I b
et that if I moved real fast, you’d miss. And if your man is up in those rocks above, well, it’s damn hard for a man with a rifle higher up to hit moving targets. Besides that, there are four of us and two of you. I expect we could—”
Callie fired before he could finish. A bloody hole opened in his upper chest, and he immediately flew backward. The horses of the other three men reared and whirled. Callie tried to fire again, but the rifle jammed. She heard three shots then, cracking loudly in the thin air. Each of the other three men went down with each shot.
Callie slowly stood up. The first man had been wrong about having trouble hitting men from above. He didn’t know that the man above was Christian Mercy.
The air still rang with the sound of the three shots as Chris jumped and dodged his way down out of the rocks above, running to Callie. “You all right?” he asked frantically.
“Heck, yes! They never got off a shot.” She set her rifle aside and hugged him around the middle. “That was some shooting, Chris. Dead on! One. Two. Three.”
He kissed her hair. “I figured you of all people could keep them talking.”
Callie grinned, breathing a sigh of relief. “Do you think that’s all of them?”
“We have to hope so.”
Callie closed her eyes and hugged him tighter. “The Winchester jammed, but I wasn’t scared, Chris. I knew your aim would be right. You’re the best.”
He gently pulled away from her and took hold of the horses’ reins. “Let’s get away from here. We’ll have to walk a ways. The horses are done in, so we won’t make Hanksville tonight. We’ll camp somewhere away from here and ride in in the morning. That’s probably best anyway. We’ll be fresh and rested.”
“What about these men? The horses?”
“Their horses will find their way, smell out water. We can’t arrive in Hanksville with their horses or any of their possessions. That way, when their bodies are found, no one will know who did it. They probably have friends in Hanksville. It wouldn’t be good for those friends to know we’re the ones who did them in. Let them wonder.”
Love's Bounty Page 27
