“Jack!” Boone urged. “Yah waitin’ for the swivin’ posse to come back?”
Jack released his grip on Tamsin and started for the door. Billy looked at her questioningly. She took a deep breath and hurried after the outlaw leader.
Outside, two silent men on horseback waited. At the far end of the street, pandemonium reigned. Tamsin could see people crowding the street. Flames shot through the roof of the Methodist church, engulfing the schoolhouse and turning the sky red. Shouting townsmen ran through the smoke and confusion with buckets of water amid crying women, barking dogs, and panicked livestock.
Jack swung up onto a gray horse, sidled it over to the high wooden walkway, and offered Tamsin his hand. She took it, and let him pull her up behind him.
“Don’t fall off,” Jack warned. “If you do, Billy will put a bullet in you. He’s a good man. I never have to give him an order twice.”
“Hey, there!” Sheriff Walker ran toward them. “What do you think—”
A rifle cracked from a rooftop across the street, and Walker dived for cover. Jack put spurs to the horse, and they galloped away from the fire and out of Sweetwater.
“Morgan! Ash Morgan!”
Ash handed his water bucket to the next man in line and turned toward Sheriff Walker. Ash’s eyes stung with smoke, and his face felt scorched by the heat of the flames. Coughing, he walked back toward Walker.
The sheriff held his arm clutched against his chest. “Your woman just broke out of jail,” Walker said. “And she took Boone Cannon with her.”
“What?” Ash stared at him in disbelief. “Tamsin broke out of jail? That’s not possible. And what the hell is this about Boone Cannon? She was the only prisoner in—”
“Boys from south of here brought Cannon in after midnight. Seems the rest of the gang came after him. I’d lay odds they set the fire as well.”
Ash pulled his shirttail out of his trousers and wiped his eyes. He heard what Walker said, but the words didn’t make sense. “Tamsin’s gone? Cannon’s bunch took her? Where was your deputy? Why didn’t he protect her?”
“Long’s dead. Knifed to death.” Walker grimaced. “I’m bleedin’ like a stuck pig. I came on them while they were makin’ their getaway and caught a slug in the arm.”
“Jack? Was he with them?”
“Couldn’t make out faces. Doubt if I’d recognize him if I had. But I saw your woman. She’s part of this, Morgan. She shot Sam Steele, and she’s as guilty of Joel Long’s killing as any of the rest.”
“You’re wrong,” Ash shouted. “They must have taken her as a hostage. She wouldn’t—”
“Shit, I saw her. She didn’t try to run. One of them called to her, and she took his hand and climbed up behind him. Face it, bounty hunter. She made a fool of you.”
Ash’s gut cramped as though he’d taken a bullet. Fear for Tamsin’s safety squeezed his chest and made it hard to draw breath or think straight.
Walker was out of his mind! Nobody could make him believe Tamsin capable of such a crime or of going willingly with the outlaws. He had to go after her—had to get her away from Jack before what happened to Becky …
Cold fury replaced the confusion in Ash’s mind. Years of hunting dangerous men had made him methodical. “You forming a posse to go after them?”
“Hell, yes. Soon as I get the doc to sew up this arm. You volunteering?”
Ash shook his head. Other searchers would only slow him down. “I work best alone.”
“Still defending her?” Walker spat on the ground by Ash’s boots. “You’re bad as she is. Get in my way, and—”
“If Boone Cannon was in your jail, you should have set more than one man to guard him. Did you think Texas Jack would let you hang his brother? Joel Long was nothin’ but a kid. He didn’t have the experience to deal with the Cannons, but you should have. Long’s blood is on your hands, Walker.”
“How the hell was I supposed to know Jack Cannon would set Sweetwater on fire?”
“You should have known he’d do something crazy. You’re not fit to wear that badge.”
Walker took a step toward him. “And you are?”
“I don’t want your job. I just think this county deserves better than it’s gettin’ for its money.”
The sheriff’s angry retort was lost in the commotion as Ash headed for the boardinghouse and his gear. Minutes, even seconds, counted. But if he ran off half-cocked, he’d end up dead, and Tamsin would pay the final price.
In his room, Ash gathered ammunition, strapped on his gun belt, and picked up his rifle. Shouldering his bedroll, he moved out into the hall. Dimitri and his wife were there.
“I heard what happened,” the lawyer said.
“Cannon took her. She didn’t go on her own.”
“No,” Dimitri agreed. “I didn’t think she would.”
“Bring her back safely,” Helen called after Ash. “She loves you.”
“And he loves her,” Dimitri said softly. “He just hasn’t admitted it yet.”
In the stable, Ash saddled both Shiloh and Dancer. The stallion rolled his eyes and tossed his head, but Ash yanked the girth tight, strapped on his bedroll, and led both horses out of the building. Max Spence, the barn owner, waited outside in the yard.
“I don’t think the fire will come this way, Mr. Morgan, but if it does, I’ll get your other animals to safety.”
“You’d better.” Ash took a firm hold of Dancer’s bridle, thrust a boot into the stirrup, and mounted the big bay stud. “That mare’s worth more than your house.”
“You’re going after the escaped outlaw, aren’t you?”
Ash grabbed Shiloh’s lead rope and kicked Dancer hard in the sides. “I’m going after my woman.”
He followed the road west, away from the scattered houses, toward the mountains. He didn’t know how long Cannon would keep to the trail or what direction Jack would take if he left it. When dawn came, there might be tracks to follow.
They had a start. On a horse like Dancer it would still take time to gain on them. If they stopped to take their sport with Tamsin, there was nothing he could do to help her.
But he didn’t think Jack would be so careless. Jack hadn’t lived as long as he had by being stupid. He had to think like the outlaw. What would he do if he were Texas Jack? That was easy. He’d push hard until the horses faltered. He’d slow the pace, but he wouldn’t go to ground until dark.
And when he called it quits, he’d need grass for the horses and water for the animals and himself.
If he were Jack, he’d go to his uncle’s cabin and stay there a few days before cutting south to Mexico.
Old Leon’s place lay northwest, a long journey if Ash retraced his path southwest through the pass to Jacob’s cabin and followed the canyons north. But it wasn’t that far from Sweetwater, maybe a hard day’s ride.
“He’s headed for the cabin, damn it,” Ash shouted. Jack had to be, because if he wasn’t … Ash blinked the dust and wetness from his eyes and lashed the stallion into a dead run.
Chapter 22
Tamsin’s thoroughbred was still running hard at daybreak when Ash reined him in and switched to Shiloh’s back. With an inner hunger that food wouldn’t quell, he knew that it was too late to search for tracks. Either he’d guessed right and Cannon was headed for his uncle’s or he’d lost them entirely.
Lost her forever.
The trail he’d followed since he’d left Sweetwater had become fainter and fainter, ending in the charred remains of a house, burned out like his own hopes.
For hours Ash had tried to think of a rational plan to get Tamsin away from Cannon without putting her life in jeopardy. So far, he had none. All he could think was that if he’d been with her when Jack came to break Boone out of the county jail, Jack would be dead and the young deputy alive. Most of all, Tamsin would be safe.
He’d made the wrong choice when he’d decided to follow Henry, and guilt plagued him with the throbbing agony of a broken tooth. He’d swo
rn to take care of Tamsin, and he’d let her down as much as he had Becky. If he didn’t get Tamsin back alive … But that wasn’t a possibility he could let himself consider.
It seemed that he’d been a loner most of his life, grasping at something shining and having it slip away … his daddy’s hand … Aunt Jane’s warm kitchen … the acres he’d cut out of raw Colorado land. He’d never wanted much, a sense of justice and a place to share with someone who cared whether or not he came home at night.
He’d let rigid duty and an old code keep him from seeing that Tamsin MacGreggor glittered brightest until she’d slipped through his fingers.
Circling ahead of Cannon’s gang and arriving at Leon’s first would give Ash an advantage. When he’d gone there before, he’d stuffed the chimney so that if they lit a fire, the house would fill with smoke.
That idea was no longer an option. Jack held Tamsin hostage. Ash couldn’t let them reach the cabin. Cannon wouldn’t hesitate to trade Tamsin’s life for his own. Worse, he might kill her out of pure spite if he found out who was chasing him.
The odds were still in Jack’s favor. Walker had seen four outlaws, but Ash wasn’t sure that there hadn’t been another. In three of his earlier robberies, Jack had put a shooter on a high spot. And Jack Cannon was a man who liked to perfect a scheme and stay with it.
By midmorning, both of Ash’s horses were thirsty and showing the effects of a hard ride. He stopped long enough to let them drink the contents of the two canteens he’d brought with him, saving none for himself. When they finished, he remounted and rode until the sun was high overhead.
When he topped a high bluff, he edged the horses into the shade of a grove of pines and used his spyglass to search the valley.
Far below he saw four horses and riders following a game trail. One animal carried double. Ash’s heart leapt in his chest. Tamsin was alive, and he had time to right the wrong he’d done her.
He scanned ahead of the leader, then right and left, hunting for a scout. He located the fifth man, his horse plainly played out, lagging several hundred yards behind the others.
Ash stroked Shiloh’s sweaty neck and murmured to him softly. The roan’s sides were damp, and he was breathing hard. Tamsin’s stud was fresher, but the route Ash figured to take down this ridge hill was fit more for mountain goats than horses. When push came to shove, he had to put more trust in the stocky gelding’s agility than in the racehorse’s speed.
An hour later, still riding Shiloh, Ash got within range of the fifth gunman. “Stand,” Ash ordered the weary horse as he slid his rifle from its sheath.
“Lord, forgive me,” he whispered. He took careful aim, leading his target, and squeezed off a perfect shot. The crack was still echoing through the valley when the pistolero dropped.
Tamsin clung to the outlaw in an exhausted daze. She’d ridden all night and into the day without a drop of water or a morsel of food. Jack had slapped her hard enough to make her ears ring when she hadn’t dismounted fast enough a few hours back.
When his horse had begun to tire from carrying two, he’d ordered her up behind Billy, a man cut from the same devil mold. Billy never spoke a single word to her, but his flat amber eyes watched her from a compassionless face. Touching the desperado, putting her arms around his waist, made her skin crawl.
Each hour took her closer to nightfall, a time when she knew Jack would call a halt to his ride. And if Ash didn’t come before then, Jack had promised her that he would have her in every way that a man could violate a woman.
And he had promised the others that they could use her in turn.…
So Tamsin had watched and waited as her strength slipped away, knowing that if she made her move too soon, she would pay the ultimate price.
She had no doubt that Ash would come after her. She knew it in every drop of blood, in her bones, and in the far corners of her soul.
If only he didn’t come too late.
The sound of the rifle shot wrenched Tamsin from her trance. She released her grip on the bandit’s waist, slid off the horse’s rump, and hit the ground running.
Billy cursed and yanked his horse away.
“Catch her!” Jack yelled.
Bullets whined past her head, but she didn’t stop. Without looking back, she dived into a clump of thick brush and clawed her way through the tangle.
Jack shouted and Boone laughed. Horses snorted and spurs jingled as one of them leapt out of the saddle mount and tried to force his way into the bushes after her.
Briars tore at Tamsin’s hair and clothes, but she pressed on, heedless of the pain. A pistol fired again, behind her.
Something stung her arm, and she cried out as the force knocked her down. Shocked, she realized that she’d been hit. Blood soaked her sleeve, but strangely, she felt numbness rather than pain.
She got up and staggered out the far side of the thicket. Shielded by scrub pines from her pursuers, she dashed down a narrow, rocky ravine.
“Get her, you fools!” Jack yelled.
Sparks of color spiraled in front of Tamsin’s eyes. The ground beneath her feet seemed to be shifting, and sounds echoed in her head. She kept running, dodging from one clump of cover to another.
Ash heard the shots and turned Shiloh loose. Leaping into Dancer’s saddle, he whipped the bay stallion into a flat-out run.
Tamsin had made it as far as a gully that cut into the wooded hillside. Ash reined the stud to a trot as he zigzagged through the stunted pines, dodging boulders and leaping rocks and fallen logs.
“Ash!” He could tell from Tamsin’s scream that she was still running, but hopelessness rang in every shrill note.
“Where do you think you’re goin’, bitch?”
The hard thud of a man’s fist hitting human flesh followed.
Tamsin gasped in pain, then began to sob.
A few yards away, another man uttered a scornful guffaw. “Save a little for me, Billy.”
Ash heard cloth rip.
Tamsin’s shriek of fear sliced through him.
The stallion burst through the cover of trees into the glaring sunlight. Ash saw Tamsin on the ground ahead, struggling with a man while another jeered and urged his partner on.
The startled forajido slapped leather, but Ash shot him full in the chest before his pistol had cleared the holster.
Tamsin’s assailant let go of her and went for his own Colt. Ash jacked another shell into the rifle chamber, but didn’t fire for fear of hitting Tamsin. Fiercely, she clung to her assailant’s arm, spoiling his aim.
The first shot went wild, almost shattering Ash’s rifle stock and sending chips of wood and metal flying. Ash felt the sting of a dozen hornets, but it took all his skill and concentration to stay in the saddle as the squealing stallion fought the bit and reared.
Ash launched himself out of the saddle. He hit the earth and rolled, coming up on his feet to see Tamsin clinging like a burr to the outlaw’s back.
Dancer plunged past, and his left rear hoof caught Cannon’s man in the knee. He staggered back just as Ash drove his fist into the man’s midsection.
Tamsin fell as Ash’s opponent whipped his pistol up. Powder and heat scorched Ash’s cheek, but he came in hard with a strong right fist.
It caught the pistolero on the chin and dropped him like a poleaxed steer. Spooked by the pain and gunfire, the bay horse bolted away down the draw.
Tamsin sat white-faced and breathless, holding her bleeding upper arm. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t go with them—”
“Come on!” he said, grabbing the fallen bandit’s pistol. “Before the reinforcements get here.”
He slipped an arm around her and helped her up. She leaned against him, struggling to stay on her feet.
The gunman was regaining consciousness. Ash knew that he should kill him. He lifted the weapon, but was stopped by the frightened look in Tamsin’s eyes.
“That’s murder,” she said.
With an oath, Ash lowered his aim, putting a bullet in
to the fallen killer’s injured knee. “Does that suit you, woman?”
She turned her face away. “I’m all right. I can walk.”
“Like hell.” Gathering her in his arms, he plunged into the trees, ran a hundred yards, then stopped. Sitting her down, he pushed her to the ground and crouched over her, protecting her with his body. “Don’t make a sound,” he whispered.
Two horses trotted up the ravine and stopped. The rock walls echoed with curses.
“Jack! Carlos is dead!” Ash would have bet his daddy’s spurs it was Boone’s voice.
Ash had heard the story that Jack Cannon had tried to hang his brother Boone when the two were boys. Whatever the reason, Boone spoke in a harsh rasp.
A volley of shots peppered the trees.
“Save your ammunition!”
Ash wondered if that was Jack. It had been years since he’d heard the outlaw speak, and he couldn’t be sure. He leaned close to Tamsin’s ear. “There were five of them, weren’t there?”
She nodded, trembling under him like a wounded bird. “Jack, his brother, and Carlos. You shot Carlos.”
“I killed two of them. Who was the fifth man, the one whose horse went lame?”
“I don’t know. I never heard them call him by name.” She shuddered. “The other one—the one who tried to rape me. He’s Billy.”
“You should have let me finish him when we had the chance.”
She drew in a ragged breath. “That would make you as bad as him.”
“It might make me alive.”
Her lower lip quivered. “Jack said he was going to do things to me …” She jammed a hand against her mouth to keep from crying. “I didn’t think you’d come in time.”
“You’re all right. I have you.” Tamsin’s hair was tangled with twigs and leaves, but beneath the dust, she still smelled as sweet as he remembered.
Alone, he would have gone after the remaining three, but with Tamsin to worry about, it seemed wiser to run.
She twisted to look up at him. “I didn’t want to go with them. They threatened to kill me.”
Judith E French Page 22
