Elizabeth Lowell

by Elizabeth Lowell

  “I don’t know. Zebra started whinnying when I got out of sight and then Lucifer set up such a ruckus that I came back to calm him down. Then I heard rifle fire and was afraid they were rushing you and you didn’t have anyone to cover you while you reloaded.” she closed her eyes briefly. “I got back here as quick as I could.”

  “How close is almost?” Ty repeated calmly.

  “A hundred feet. Maybe a hundred yards. Maybe a quarter mile. I couldn’t see.”

  “Would you bet your life on that path going through?”

  “Do we have a choice?”

  “Probably not. If Cascabel isn’t out there soon, he will be when word gets to him. Until then, there are at least eight able-bodied warriors and two wounded renegades under cover out there, just waiting for something to show at the cleft.”

  “What if we wait until dark?”

  “We can try it.”

  “But?” Janna prodded.

  “Our chances of getting out alive through that cleft are so slim they aren’t worth counting,” Ty said bluntly. “The same darkness that would cover our movements also covers theirs. Even now the renegades are moving in closer, finding cover, covering each other, closing in on the cleft. By dark they’ll have the cork well and truly in the bottle. After that, it’s just a matter of time until I run out of ammunition and they rush me.”

  Ty said nothing more. He didn’t have to. Janna could finish his bleak line of thought as well as he could.

  “There’s something else to consider,” he said. “If you can find that trail from this end, sure as God made little green apples, a renegade can find it from the other end if he has a good enough reason to go looking—and your hair is a good enough reason, thanks to Cascabel’s vision.”

  She nodded unhappily. The same thought had occurred to her. “We can take the horses most of the way.”

  “But not all?”

  “The ledge was made for men, not horses.”

  Ty had expected nothing more. He bent, put his arms through the straps of his heavy pack and shrugged it into place. “Let’s go. We only have a few hours of light left.”

  Janna turned to leave, then was struck by a thought. “What happens if the Indians rush the cleft while we’re still in the valley?”

  “I’ve made the renegades real wary of showing themselves. But if they do—” Ty shrugged “—I can hold them off in the ruins almost as well as in the cleft. You’ll have plenty of time to follow the path.”

  “If you think I’d leave you to—”

  “If I tell you to take that trail,” Ty interrupted flatly, “you damn well will take that trail.”

  Without another word she turned and began working her way rapidly back through the cleft. Ty was right on her heels. When they came out into the little valley, Zebra and Lucifer were standing nearby, watching the opening attentively. Janna mounted and waited while Ty pulled the saddlebags full of gold out of a hiding place and secured them on Lucifer’s muscular back. As soon as he had mounted, Janna urged Zebra into a gallop.

  The mustangs quickly covered the distance to the ruins. Janna didn’t slow the pace until the valley narrowed and the rubble underfoot made the going too rough for any speed greater than a trot. The sounds of stones rolling beneath the horses’ hooves echoed between the narrowing walls of the valley.

  Walking, trotting, scrambling, always pushing ahead as quickly as possible, Zebra climbed up steeper and steeper byways, urged by Janna through the twisting web of natural and man-made passages. Lucifer kept up easily despite the double load of Ty and the gold. The stallion was powerful, agile, and fully recovered from his brush with Joe Troon’s rifle.

  More than once Ty thought that Janna had lost her way, but each time she found a path past the crumbling head of a ravine or through places where huge sheets of rock had peeled away from the ramparts and smashed to pieces against stone outcroppings farther down the cliff. When Zebra scrambled over a ridge of stone and came to a stop, Ty wondered if Janna had finally lost her way.

  He hoped not. He had begun to believe there was a way out of the hidden valley that had been first a haven and then a deadly trap.

  Janna turned and looked back at Ty. “This is as far as the horses can go.”

  Before Ty could answer, she slid from Zebra’s back, adjusted the small pack she wore and set off to traverse the narrow ledge. He dismounted, scrambled up the last few feet of trail and saw the ledge—and the sheer drop to the valley below.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he whispered.

  He fought against the need to call out to Janna to come back. All that made him succeed was the fear of distracting her from the trail’s demands.

  The sound of rifle fire drifted up from the direction of the cleft, telling Ty that the renegades were on the move once more. He turned and looked toward the east. He couldn’t see the spot where the cleft opened into the meadow. He could, however, see that once the renegades spread through the valley looking for their prey, it would be just a matter of time until a warrior looked up and saw Janna like a fly on the wall of the valley’s western ramparts.

  Zebra called nervously when Janna vanished around a bulge of stone. The stallion’s ringing whinny split the air, reverberating off rocky walls. Ty went back to Lucifer and clamped his hand over the horse’s nostrils. The stallion shook his head but he only hung on harder. He spoke softly, reassuring the mustang, hoping the horse’s neigh hadn’t carried over the sound of rifle fire.

  “Easy, boy, easy. You and Zebra are going to be on your own again in just a little bit. Until then, shut up and hold still and let me get this surcingle undone.”

  Lucifer snorted and backed away, tossing his head even as his nostrils flared. Ty threw himself at the stallion’s head, just managing to cut off Lucifer’s air before he could whinny again.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ty asked soothingly. “You’ve never been this jumpy. Now hold still and let me get this strap off you.”

  Without warning Lucifer lurched forward, shouldering Ty roughly aside.

  “What the hell?”

  Ty regained his balance and followed Lucifer up the last few feet of trail. Ty was fast, but not fast enough. Lucifer’s demanding bugle rang out. Reflexively he lunged for the stallion’s nose. The horse shouldered him aside once more. Cursing, he scrambled to his feet, wondering what had gotten into Lucifer.

  “Dammit, horse, where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  The stallion kept walking.

  Then Ty looked past the stallion and realized what had happened. “God in heaven,” he whispered.

  Zebra had followed Janna out onto the ledge—and the stallion was going out right after her, determined not to be left behind.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Afraid even to breathe, Ty watched Zebra and Lucifer picking their way over the narrow ledge with the delicacy of cats walking on the edge of a roof. The worst part of the trail was halfway along the ledge, where rock had crumbled away to make an already thin path even more skeletal. All that made passage possible was that the cliff at that point angled back from the vertical, rather than overhanging as it did along much of the ledge.

  When Zebra reached the narrow place where rock had crumbled away, she stopped. After a moment or two her hooves shifted restively. Small pieces of rock fell away, rolling and bouncing until there was no more stone, only air. The mare froze in place, having gone forward no more than an inch or two.

  “Go on,” Ty said under his breath. “You can’t turn around and you can’t back up and you can’t stay there forever. There’s only one way out and that’s to keep on going.”

  Zebra snorted. Ears pricked, she eyed the ledge ahead. Her skin rippled nervously. Sweat sprang up, darkening her pale hide around her shoulders and flanks. Trembling, she stood on the narrow ledge.

  And then she tried to back up.

  A hawk’s wild cry keened across the rocks. The sound came once, twice, three times, coaxing and demanding in one.

  Janna
had returned to the far side of the ledge to see what was taking Ty so long. A single glance had told her what the problem was, and how close it was coming to a disastrous solution. She began speaking to Zebra in low tones, calming the mare, praising her, promising her every treat known to man or mustang if Zebra would only take the few steps between herself and Janna.

  Slowly Zebra began to move forward once more. Holding out her hands, Janna backed away, calling to the mustang, talking to her, urging her forward. Zebra followed slowly, placing each hoof precisely—and on her right side, part of each hoof rested on nothing but air.

  Gradually the ledge became wider once more, allowing Zebra to move more quickly. She completed the far end of the trail in a subdued rush, barely giving Janna a chance to get out of the way.

  Ty had little time to be relieved that Zebra was safe, for now it was Lucifer’s turn on the crumbling stone. The stallion liked it even less than the mare, for he was bigger and the saddlebags tended to rub hard against the overhang along the first part of the ledge, pushing the horse outward and toward the sheer drop to the valley floor. Unlike Zebra, Lucifer didn’t stop on the narrow section of the trail. He simply laid back his ears and placed each hoof with excruciating care, sweating nervously until his black coat shone like polished jet.

  Just as he reached the far end of the ledge, a piece of stone crumbled away beneath his great weight. His right rear hoof lost purchase entirely, throwing him off balance.

  Janna bit back a scream as she watched Lucifer scramble frantically to regain his balance and forward momentum. For long seconds the stallion hung poised on the brink of falling. Without stopping to think of the danger, Janna darted past Zebra, grabbed Lucifer’s hackamore and pulled forward as hard as she could, hoping to tip the balance.

  “Janna.”

  Ty’s horrified whisper was barely past his lips when Lucifer clawed his way over the last of the ledge and lunged onto the wider trail, knocking Janna aside in his haste to reach safe footing. The stallion crowded against Zebra, nipping at her haunches, demanding that she keep going up the trail.

  Ty barely noticed the narrowness of the ledge or the rub of his left shoulder against the overhang. He covered the stone pathway with reckless speed, wanting only to get to Janna. With fear like a fist in his throat, he knelt next to her and touched her cheek.

  “Janna?”

  She tried to speak, couldn’t, and fought for air.

  “Take it easy, sugar. That fool stud knocked the breath out of you.”

  After a few more moments air returned to her in an aching rush. She breathed raggedly, then more evenly.

  “Do you hurt anywhere?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Have enough air now?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.”

  Ty bent and pulled Janna into his arms, hugging her hard, then taking her mouth in a kiss that was both savage and tender. After a long time he lifted his head.

  “Don’t ever do anything like that again,” he said roughly. “Nothing’s worth your life. Not the stallion. Not the gold. Not anything. Do you hear me, Janna Wayland?”

  She nodded, more breathless from Ty’s searching, hungry, and gentle kiss than from her skirmish with Lucifer.

  Ty looked at Janna’s eyes. They were clear and warm as summer rain, radiant with emotion, and he felt his heart turn over in his chest. He closed his own eyes, unable to bear the feelings tearing through him, pulling him apart.

  Two feet away from Ty’s left leg, stone chips exploded, spattering both of them with shards. From the valley below came the sound of rifle fire.

  He dragged her up the trail and around an outcropping of rock until they were out of view of the valley. From ahead came the sound of stones rolling and bouncing as the mustangs scrambled upward.

  “When you get to the top, wait ten minutes,” Ty said. “If I don’t come, get on Zebra and ride like hell for the fort. Don’t come back, Janna. Promise me. Don’t come back. There’s nothing you can do here but get killed.”

  “Let me stay,” she pleaded.

  “No,” he said. Then he added in a low voice, “Please. Let me feel that I’ve given you something. Just once. Just once for all the things you’ve given to me. Please.”

  She touched his cheek with fingers that trembled. He turned his head and kissed her fingertips very gently.

  “Now go,” he said softly.

  Janna turned and walked away quickly, trying not to cry. She had gone no more than a hundred feet before she heard the harsh, evenly spaced sounds of Ty’s carbine firing down into the valley below.

  The remaining trail to the top of the plateau was more of a scramble than a walk, for the ravine that the path followed was filled with stony debris and a few hardy evergreens. The mustangs had left ample signs to follow—broken twigs and overturned stones and shallow gouge marks along solid rock.

  The few steep pitches were mercifully brief. Within fifteen minutes she was standing on top of the plateau. She hadn’t heard any sounds of shooting for the last ten minutes as she had climbed upward. She had told herself that that was good, that it meant Ty was on his way up the trail. She also had told herself he was all right, but tears kept ruining her vision and fear made her body clench.

  From where Janna stood on the plateau there was no hint that there might be a trailhead nearby, or even that the long, shallow gully she had just climbed out of was in any way different from any of hundreds of such gullies that fringed the steeper edges of the plateau.

  The horses grazed nearby, wary of all sounds and shadows. All that forced Janna to mount Zebra was the memory of Ty’s eyes pleading with her to be safe, and the gentle kisses that still burned on her fingertips, sealing her promise. Torn between fear and grief, rebellion and love, she sat on Zebra and waited, counting off the minutes.

  Three minutes went by. Then five. Eight. Nine. Ten.

  I’m safe enough here. It won’t hurt to wait just a bit more. The mustangs will tell me if anyone else is near.

  Twelve minutes. Fifteen. Seventeen.

  Janna had reached eighteen when the mustangs lifted their heads and turned to watch the mouth of the gully with pricked ears and no nervousness whatsoever. Minutes later Ty came scrambling up out of the ravine.

  “I told you—ten minutes,” he said, breathing heavily.

  “I don’t know how to c-count,” she said, trying to blink back tears and laughter at the same time.

  Ty swung up on Lucifer, brought the stallion alongside Zebra and gave Janna a fierce kiss.

  “Sweet liar.”

  He smacked Zebra hard on the rump, sending the mare into startled flight. Lucifer leaped to follow. Together the two mustangs settled into a ground-covering gallop. The plateau’s rumpled surface flew beneath their hooves.

  Twice Janna and Ty heard gunfire. Each time they veered more to the east, for the sounds were coming from the north and west. About every ten minutes Janna would slow the pace to a canter, allowing the horses to catch their breath. Despite the itching of his backbone, Ty never complained about the slower pace. He knew that the mustangs might be called upon to outrun Indians at any moment. The horses wouldn’t have a prayer if they were already blown from miles of hard running.

  During the third time of resting, the distant crackling of rifle fire drifted to Janna and Ty on the wind. This time the sound was coming from the east.

  “Should we—” began Janna.

  She was cut off by a curt gesture from Ty. He pulled Lucifer to a stop and sat motionlessly, listening.

  “Hear it?” he asked finally.

  “The rifles?”

  “A bugle.”

  Janna listened intently. She was turning to tell Ty she couldn’t hear anything when the wind picked up again and she heard a faint, distant cry, rising and falling.

  “I hear it. It must be coming from the flatlands.”

  “Where’s the closest place we can get a good look over the edge?” Ty asked.

 
; “The eastern trailhead is only a few miles from here.”

  Janna turned Zebra and urged the mare into a gallop once more, not stopping until she came to the crumbling edge of the plateau where the trail began. Lucifer crowded up next to Zebra and looked out over the land, breathing deeply and freely, appearing for all the world as though he had barely begun to tap his strength.

  Ty examined the land through his spyglass, sweeping the area slowly, searching for signs of man. Suddenly he froze and leaned forward. Six miles north and east of his present position, a small column of cavalry was charging over the land, heading south, sweeping a handful of renegades before it. Well behind the first column of soldiers, a larger one advanced at a much more sedate pace.

  He swung the spyglass to look to the south, closer in to the plateau’s edge.

  “Christ almighty,” he swore. “Cascabel’s got an ambush set up where the trail goes through a ravine. That first group of renegades is the bait. He’s got enough warriors hidden to slaughter the first group of pony soldiers before the rear column can get there to help.”

  “Can we get down in time to warn them?”

  Grimly he looked at the trail down the east face of the plateau. It was even more precipitous than he had remembered. It was also their only hope of getting to the soldiers before Cascabel did.

  “Would it do any good to tell you to stay here?” Ty asked.

  “No.”

  “You’re a fool, Janna Wayland.”

  He jerked his hat down on his forehead, settled his weight into the rope stirrups, gave a hair-raising battle cry, and simultaneously booted Lucifer hard in the ribs.

  The stallion lunged over the rim and was launched onto the steep trail before he had a chance to object. Front legs stiff, all but sitting on his hocks, Lucifer plunged down the first quarter mile of the trail like a great black cat. In helping the stallion not to overrun his balance, Ty braced his feet in the rope stirrups and leaned so far back that his hat brushed the horse’s hard-driving rump.