“What a horse,” Billy said half in envy, half in awe. “Where did you get it?”
“Stole him, what else?” They all laughed, happy to be together once more.
“He looks like a race horse.” George let her gaze wander over the animal, it was certainly a splendid creature.
“It is. You know something, he’s going to win the two-mile steeple chase today.”
“You can’t be serious,” George exclaimed. It was risky Johnny even coming to the meeting. To run in the race was sheer madness.
“What about the sheriff and his men?” The reckless glow in Johnny’s eyes frightened her.
“I’m going to give the authorities something to think about. It’s time they realized Johnny Valentine was back in circulation again.”
It was crowded at the race meeting, people milled about everywhere. Rich ladies in colorful gowns with matching parasols stood in groups chatting together. The men wore their finest clothes. The poorer folk were dressed in their best also and George couldn’t stop a twinge of envy. She ruthlessly squashed this thought, pretty clothes weren’t for her; trousers were much more practical.
She scanned the crowds to see if the sheriff or any of his deputies were around. “You won’t find the law here.” Billy grinned. “They’re out scouring the Black Hills for Johnny Valentine.”
“Yeah.” Johnny chuckled.
George laughed, too.
“Sonsofbitches. By the time they find out I’m not there and get back here, I’ll be long gone.”
They mingled with the crowds. If anyone recognized Johnny they gave no sign. Everyone had heard of Johnny Valentine, not everyone knew what he looked like. His picture on the ‘Wanted’ posters was not a good likeness.
They stopped at a refreshment tent for drinks. She frowned as Johnny paid for their purchases with gold. She felt thirsty and drank greedily. Why worry where he got the gold from? Those rich people he robbed could afford it. Why shouldn’t poor people share some of the territory’s wealth when they did most of the work?
After finishing the drink, she wandered outside to wait for the others as the atmosphere inside was stifling. Finding a shady tree, she lounged against it, taking her hat off as she did so. Her hair cascaded about her shoulders and she pushed at it irritably. She hated her hair sometimes and had often been tempted to cut it off, but something always stopped her at the last moment.
All at once she had the strangest sensation of being watched. Glancing up, she found Marcus staring at her. He stood with a group of well-dressed young men and women. He started toward her then stopped as a young lady came up to him. With sickening jealousy churning her stomach, George watched them link arms. The lady spoke to him and when he bent his head close to hers a searing pain lanced her heart. It felt so strong, went in so deep she wondered why she wasn’t falling to the ground in a screaming heap.
Johnny returned a short time later. “Are you all right?” He rested his hand on her waist. “You look sort of pale.”
“I’m a bit hot, left my hat off for too long, I expect.”
He gave her a long, speculative look. “Your Englishman is over there, lording it up with the rich,” he sneered.
“Oh, so he is, I didn’t notice.” Forcing a careless note into her voice she shrugged to further convince him Marcus meant nothing to her.
“His type isn’t worth worrying about. Come on, George, the next race starts soon.”
“Where’s Billy?”
“Met up with a friend,” Johnny answered with a laugh. “A young lady, so I thought I’d better vamoose.”
“Billy with a girl? You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not. Are you jealous?”
“Jealous?” She burst out laughing. “Oh, Johnny.” She gave him a hug. “What an idiotic thing to say.
The laughter froze in her throat as she bore the brunt of a ferocious stare from Marcus. Tossing her head to show him how little he now meant to her, she slipped her arm through Johnny’s and said. “Let’s go and watch the next race.”
As they passed Marcus’ group, she insolently looked him up and down without speaking. It should have given her pleasure to see the angry flush staining his cheeks, but strangely it did not.
They placed a bet on the next race. She picked out the favorite while Johnny recklessly chose a rank outsider. The race started and they watched with mounting excitement as halfway home her horse charged into the lead.
“You’ve no hope now, George, he’s gone out too soon.”
Like dozens of other spectators, she urged her horse on. “Come on, faster, faster.” She swung around to face Johnny. A roar coming from the crowd drew her eyes back to the track. A black horse was speeding up on the outside and he urged it on so vocally several heads turned toward them.
“Stop it, people are staring at us.”
“To hell with them. Come on, use your whip.” He pranced up and down, and by the time the race had finished, with the black beating the favorite by a head, he was sweating profusely.
“You look as if you’ve ridden him every inch of the way,” she teased, feeling happy because his horse had won.
“I’m worn out.” He grinned. “Half my winnings are yours.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m glad you won, though. You don’t have to give me anything; it was your money I lost on the favorite anyway.”
“I got fifty to one. We’ll have to celebrate some way.”
A sullen, subdued Billy joined them.
“What’s wrong? Lose all your money?” George teased. “Johnny picked the winner.”
“I didn’t lose my money.” Billy kicked a tuft of grass.
“Lost your girl?” Johnny slapped him on the back. “Plenty more around.”
“Yeah, course there is. Dropped me for a rich rancher. There’s only one thing he wants from her,” he finished off savagely.
“Don’t talk in front of George like that.”
“Why not? Even she knows rich men seduce our girls then go off and marry their own kind.”
Color surged into her cheeks. No one would know better than me. What had passed between her and Marcus was still a raw, festering wound, which would end up poisoning her whole system if she wasn’t careful. The only grain of comfort she had to cling to was, she now knew for certain, she wasn’t carrying his baby.
Johnny left them to line up for the start of the steeplechase and she and Billy took up a good vantage point. The horses disappeared around the side of a hill and she craned her neck to see what was going on. He had taken a terrible risk by coming here. Her mouth dried up with tension. He acted so recklessly sometimes, almost as if he did not care what happened to him anymore.
The horses finally came into sight again. They raced to the first hurdle almost in a bunch, except for two or three stragglers taking up the rear.
“Let’s go down to see the finish. Johnny’s in front I think. Hope he wins.” Putting her fear to one side, she excitedly jigged around.
They hurried toward the finishing line, not daring to take their eyes off the race, in case they missed something. Over the second hurdle and Johnny still led.
At the rails near the finishing line George almost bumped into Marcus.
“How are you, Georgina?”
“As if you care,” she retorted bitterly, before turning her back on him.
“Come on, Johnny, you can do it,” she urged, blinking back hot tears.
“Yeah, show them sonsofbitches what we’re made of,” Billy screamed encouragement.
“I do care, damn it.” Marcus grabbed her arm and swung her away from Billy.
“I’m not having a baby after all,” she said in a harsh whisper.
“Thank God for that. We need to talk, please, Georgina.”
“Go to blazes, Marcus.”
The color drained from his face. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked off.
The water jump was coming up now and her muscles tightened with the strain of watching. Billy
explained that Johnny had to be the first over the water jump in case some of the horses fell, which they normally did, and brought Johnny down with them.
He was over safely, her madly beating heart returned to its normal rhythm. It was an out and out sprint now and Johnny’s mount surged ahead.
“He did it, he did it.” Billy grasped her by the waist and they did a jig together.
A few minutes later a grinning Johnny joined them. “Told you, didn’t I? First prize is twenty dollars. It was easy beating them,” he gloated, handing the money to George.
“No, I couldn’t take your prize money.”
“Yes, you can, give some of it to McGuire. You and Billy are to buy yourselves something special, I don’t need it.”
Reluctantly she took the money. She would give most of it to McGuire and they would live well for the next few weeks.
Several people came up and clapped Johnny on the back, but dark mutterings came from many others. The ranchers would not forgive or forget what Johnny had done to them today. He had humiliated them, beaten their best horses on a stolen mount. George suddenly shivered in the hot sun.
Marcus strode over to them. “The sheriff and his deputies are here, Valentine.” Even as he issued the warning, Marcus wondered why he bothered to help his rival.
“Thanks, Lindquist, I owe you.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” George said, but he had already turned on his heel and was striding away, and she did not have time to run after him. Escape was paramount now.
She started hurrying, but Johnny pulled her back. “Slow down, we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.” He started whistling tunelessly as he strolled along with his hands dug deeply into his pockets.
“Anyone would think you were out for a Sunday stroll; we ought to hurry.” Billy anxiously voiced her thoughts.
“No need to panic.”
“This place will be crawling with deputies soon,” she warned. Billy looked as worried as her. Only Johnny seemed not to care.
George’s heart pounded so loudly she felt sure some passer-by would hear it. Fear clawed her stomach to shreds when she saw the sheriff striding their way, his hand resting on his colt.
“Through here, Johnny.” A man’s voice beckoned them from inside one of the refreshment tents. “There’s a flap at the back you can get through.”
Hurriedly the three of them entered. There were not many people inside as everyone had left to watch another of the main events.
“Good luck, Johnny.” Someone clapped him on the shoulder and he acknowledged the man with a grin. At the back of the tent they found the open flap. George put her head out first to see if the coast was clear before stepping outside. No one was in sight.
A commotion inside caused George to hesitate, and Billy’s rough shove almost sent her sprawling. “Come on, hurry up, a few cowboys have started a fight as a diversion.”
No need for caution now. They started running, speed was essential if they were to escape. The horses waited patiently where they had been left. Johnny scooped up the reins of his own and George’s while Billy gave her a leg up, and within seconds they galloped away.
“Tarnation. What was that? Billy yelled, and George nearly fell off her horse with shock. Someone was shooting at them. Over the open ground they raced and when Johnny started zigzagging she did likewise. They were all crouched low in the saddle to make themselves as small a target as possible.
There was a sudden volley of shots. One came so close it knocked off her hat and she didn’t have time to retrieve it. They rode desperately, heading for the safety of the trees. In the open country, there was danger even though they were moving targets. A lucky shot could easily bring one of them down.
They galloped flat out until they hit the hills. The roughness of the terrain would slow down their pursuers.
It seemed like hours before Johnny decided they had outrun the law. The horses were breathing heavily by this time and George could feel her shirt clinging damply to her back.
“We’ll lie low for a while then you two head off home.”
“What about you?” George felt her lips tremble as she fought back frightened tears. Surely, he would not do anything rash. He was reckless, but not foolhardy.
“I’ll head for the canyon country. I’ll be safe there until things cool down. I’ve got stores stashed away.”
“You knew this would happen,” she accused. “Going to the races, having the gall to ride in the steeple, it was asking for trouble.”
“I hoped it wouldn’t.” He fanned himself with his hat. “I wasn’t taking any chances, though, that’s why I had an escape route planned.”
“Johnny, why didn’t you stay where you were safe?”
“I missed you.”
She moved her horse closer and leaned across to stroke his cheek. “I’m frightened. You made fools of the sheriff and his posse today. He’ll never forget such an insult.”
Both he and Billy scoffed at her fears. If it weren’t for his father, Billy would have already joined Johnny.
They walked the horses until they came to a small clearing with a stream running through it. Here they dismounted to water and rest their mounts.
Johnny knew the Black Hills well. The posse would never catch him while he remained holed up here. It was only when he came down to the flat country that he courted danger.
“Why don’t you leave this place and never come back. I’ll come with you if you like,” she offered.
He did not answer for a time. In fact, she thought he wasn’t going to speak at all.
“I couldn’t let you leave the only home you’ve ever known, to be hunted down like a wild dog.” His voice became bitter. “They’ll never leave me alone, no matter where I go.”
A cold shiver ran through the whole of her body. “Don’t talk like that.”
“It’s true, but I tell you both this: they’ll never take me alive.”
“Johnny!” Fear churned George’s stomach until she felt sick with it. Even Billy was rendered speechless. A strange silence settled over them now, a silence so ominous it felt tangible and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.
“If you want to get home before dark, you better start now,” Johnny said, grinning suddenly and changing the gravity of his features to cheerfulness in a flash. She would never understand him. One minute he seemed bitter and morose at the way fate decreed he must lead his life, then he would become laughing and exuberant. Who was the real Johnny? No one knew. Probably he didn’t really know himself.
They left shortly afterward. George, turning around to wave one last time, thought Johnny looked very young and strangely lonely as he stood beside his horse.
“What did you make of Johnny?” she asked.
“Make of him? What do you mean?”
“He seemed, well, sort of morbid.”
“I know. I felt it, too. I’m frightened for him.” Billy moved his horse closer to hers, so he could pick up her hand. “It’s as if, well, as if…” he had difficulty framing the words.
“He was predicting his own death.” The words fell involuntarily from her mouth.
“You felt it, too? I thought it was only my imagination running wild.”
“Yes, I felt it, Billy.”
Suddenly he dropped his hand. “To hell with the law,” he yelled, spurring his horse into a gallop, leaving her with no alternative but to follow.
“Billy, wait for me.” She heeled her horse into motion and followed him. There was nothing else left to do.
Chapter Eight
They arrived at the cabin to find it in darkness. With no welcoming spiral of smoke, it seemed lonely and somehow forlorn against the backdrop of the now purple hills. Billy leapt from his horse, throwing the reins at George who dismounted more sedately. Where was McGuire? Was he sick? Injured perhaps?
By the time she tethered their mounts, she barely had time to reach the porch before Billy came striding out waving a piece of paper.
“Do
n’t panic, Pa left us a note, he’s gone to Deadwood.”
“Thank goodness.” She sagged against the porch post in relief. “I thought something bad might have happened.”
“Me, too.” He gave a relieved grin. “I’ll do the milking and bed the horses down, you see to the food.”
George poked her tongue at him.
Once inside, she raked up the fire, which was now stone cold, meaning McGuire must have left not long after they did. She set and re-lit it.
It would have to be beans and bacon, which wouldn’t take too long. There was plenty of stale bread they could toast. Billy will grouch, but if he doesn’t like what I’m going to prepare, he can always get his own. She grinned to herself, if there was one chore he hated, it was preparing meals.
They ate in silence. McGuire was not a man who spoke often, yet she missed his presence. Billy seemed too interested in what he shoveled into his mouth to worry about speaking. The way he wolfed his food down, a stranger would think he had not eaten for days.
“You know something?” He emptied his mouth for a moment. “I’ve been thinking, I might go and see Tom in a few weeks. I got a letter the other day and he said he could get me a job on the ranch where he’s working, and maybe we could talk Johnny into coming as well.”
“If he got right away from here, he might be able to make a fresh start. You know something, we should all leave here. Sell the ranch and start afresh somewhere else,” her voice was anguished. “I hate this place sometimes.”
“I always thought you liked it here.” He gazed at her speculatively. Thank goodness, he wasn’t as astute as Johnny.
“I do. Sometimes I like it, other times when things go bad for us, especially for Johnny, I hate it.
Her thoughts turned to Marcus. Would he be entertaining his pretty lady friend? Sipping English tea perhaps? Eating dainty cakes? Maybe she was playing the piano for him.
“George.” Billy snapped his fingers in her face.
“What is it?”
“Did you hear anything?” he asked.
“No, it’s really quiet.”
“Too quiet if you ask me. I’ve got a strange feeling, a horrible prickly sensation at the back of my neck.”
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