by JR Roberts
“Nothing,” she replied. “Nothing at all. You must realize that those trees were just signposts marking our territory.”
“So those are scattered all along the New Mexico border?”
“More or less. But the movement involves a lot more than that. There are lawmen that have either been turned to our cause or killed outright. The same could be said for outlaws and even several legitimate businesses.”
“That doesn’t mean a whole lot,” Clint said. “Lawmen have been killed or gone bad ever since the first badge was pinned onto someone. Outlaws die or join up with new gangs. That’s just what they do. And businessmen?” Clint laughed. “I’ve found that men in fancy suits who sit behind expensive desks have backed more outlaws than anyone.”
“What makes us different from them is simple,” Andrea told him. “They work within the former structure of laws and government.”
“Former?”
Andrea nodded. “That’s right. What we’ve been doing is showing folks that there is no law that can stand up against enough people who refuse to follow it. In these recent days, it has been made perfectly clear that there is no law worth following in New Mexico.”
“I don’t suppose any of you have bothered to wonder what might happen once the government decides to move against you?”
“They already have. Lawmen have been sent and they’ve either decided to join us or decorate one of our trees to send word of what happens to anyone who takes up arms against us.”
“Beyond the law, then,” Clint said. “What about the Army? There’s probably a regiment or two right now looking for a target that’s ripe for some cannon fire.”
Andrea merely shrugged. “They won’t find any targets other than a few scattered outlaws and crooked lawmen. I doubt the President will allow another war to take place within this country without more of a threat than that.”
“You don’t think those trees you’re all so proud of will incite some action?”
“Some,” she admitted, “but not enough. People with rules to follow and laws binding them tend to move rather slowly. By the time any sort of action is taken here, our movement will have already spread.”
“Spread where?” Clint asked.
Andrea smiled and stepped between two of the trees that had been acting as a natural barrier between the trail and the stream. “That’s the sort of thing I might talk about once I know I can trust you. For now, here’s a token to show you we can be very good allies to have.”
When Clint saw what was waiting for him, he very nearly kissed Andrea full on the lips.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Eclipse!”
Clint didn’t want to let his cards show in front of his captors but the reaction was difficult to contain. Seeing the Darley Arabian drinking from the stream was enough to make all of the hell from the last few days’ worth it in Clint’s mind. He rushed over to the stallion without giving a thought to the man who stood nearby watching over it and the other horse being watered.
The man had a rifle in his hands and started to bring it to his shoulder. He must have gotten a signal from Andrea because he nodded, lowered the rifle and took a step back.
As soon as he felt Eclipse’s coat against his palm, Clint felt like himself again. The notion of hopping onto Eclipse’s back and bolting away from the stream crossed his mind but he didn’t want to risk any harm coming to a companion that had already been through so much.
“How are you, boy?” he said quietly while checking the stallion for wounds.
“He’s fine,” Andrea said. “We’ve been treating him very well.”
“I wasn’t asking you,” Clint snapped.
“Watch yer goddamn mouth,” one of the armed men nearby warned.
Clint ignored him as he continued examining Eclipse. “Looks like he’s alright,” he said. Turning to face the man who’d just spoken, he added, “Which is a good thing because anything that happened to him would’ve happened to any son-of-a-bitch who was responsible.”
Andrea stepped forward. “We may steal horses but we don’t harm them.”
“What about the horses that wound up slaughtered in a cave outside of Parker? You gonna tell me all of them broke a leg?”
“No,” she said. “Some were wounded by stray gunfire. Others wouldn’t do what they were trained to do. Plenty of men have died for the same reasons lately.”
Rather than trade threats with her, Clint said, “I’m glad to see my horse again. That doesn’t mean I’m grateful or indebted to the ones that stole him in the first place. You must really take me for some kind of fool if you think this would sway me over to your side.”
Andrea approached him slowly. When she reached out to touch him, she seemed both anxious to get her hands on Clint’s chest and nervous about what might happen once she did. “Far from it,” she told him. “I think you’re a very smart man. That’s why I’m being so honest with you.”
She was closer to him now. So close that Clint could feel the heat from her body and the touch of her breath against his face when she spoke in a whisper that was so soft he could barely hear it.
“You know what I tell most of the men who join up with us?” she asked. “That we can make them rich. That we will give them some measure of revenge against the law or whatever rich folks they despise. Pretty much anything we think will appeal to them and it’s not that difficult to figure out. The only truly interesting part is how many of them don’t know they’re being fed—”
“Bullshit,” Clint said. “You’re feeding a bunch of killers bullshit.”
“Exactly.”
“And you say that like you’re so proud of yourself.”
“You haven’t been riding through the reformed New Mexico for very long,” Andrea said. “Surely you must have already seen how much has changed. And don’t bother mentioning the trees, Mr. Adams. I’m not a fool either. I know a man like you isn’t nearly as squeamish as you’re letting on.”
“True. What’s your point?”
Taking a step back, Andrea put her hands on her hips and brought her voice up to a pitch that someone might use if they were campaigning for office. “My point is that we’ve done a lot here in a short amount of time and we’ve only gotten started. When the fire gets stoked even higher, you’re going to want to be on the right side of it when the wind starts to blow.”
“And that side is yours?” Clint asked.
“Yes, Mr. Adams. It is. Right now, I’m your best chance at making it out of this alive. You might want to remember that when you’re speaking to me and show some of the proper goddamn respect.”
“Now there’s the tone of a murderous revolutionary. I was starting to wonder if you were just the whore that was dangled in front of prospective recruits to get them to throw in with this Farraday’s cause.”
“Trust me,” Andrea purred. “Mr. Farraday wouldn’t have tolerated your guff for nearly as long as I have and frankly, I’m surprised Howlett hasn’t gutted you yet.”
“I actually thought he would have tried by now as well.”
“He will but he doesn’t kill anyone who’s on my good side. Why don’t you have your water and think about that when we make the rest of this ride. And think quick because we don’t have far to go.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
By the time Clint was brought back to the cart, everything was loaded and ready to go. One of the horses was hitched to the front, the gear was stowed and even Sven was tucked away in the back like so much luggage. Clint and Eclipse were taken to the cart and prepared for the ride as well. The Darley Arabian was carefully hitched next to the other animal so he could help pull the cart and a third horse was tied to the side of the cart as a spare. Compared to the amount of attention paid to Eclipse, Clint might as well have been a trunk that nobody wanted to bring along in the first place.
After being trussed up, thrown into the back of the cart and tied to the iron ring embedded in the floor, Clint said, “What a lovely bunch of people.
”
“Honestly?” Sven asked.
Clint looked over to the other man and held his gaze for a tense couple of seconds. Finally, Sven shrunk back and said, “I suppose that was a stupid question.”
“I’ve heard worse.”
“So … what did you talk about?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Clint replied. “It was all just more babble coming from a crazy woman.”
“Is that what you think? That they’re all crazy?”
Clint settled into a spot with his back against the wall of the cart and his legs stretched out as much as possible in front of him. The horses started pulling and the cart rocked back and forth. “Of course they’re crazy. What else should I think?”
“Isn’t there some part of you that might want to take them up on their offer?”
“No.” After a few seconds, Clint sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps. Sometimes a man’s got to go along with the tide or be swept under.”
“That’s what I was thinking. But a man’s also got to keep an eye on his best interests. What happened if you changed your mind?”
“About what?”
“About following the tide.”
“What are you asking me, exactly?”
Sven shrugged his shoulders. “What if you just went along with what they wanted until the time is right?”
“Now that would be an awfully sneaky thing to do, don’t you think?”
“Depends on if it goes over well or not.”
Clint draped his arms over his bent knees and studied Sven carefully. “I may be mistaken but it sounds to me like you’re plotting something.”
“Wouldn’t you expect me to be plotting something from the moment I got captured?”
“I would, if you weren’t in such pleasant company the whole time. I mean, why would anyone want to escape a couple bright conversationalists like me and Hall?”
The two of them looked at each other for a second. Clint kept a straight face and Sven didn’t seem to know whether or not he’d stuck his foot in his mouth. When Clint cracked a fraction of a smile, Sven let down his guard and started to laugh.
“You almost had me there,” Sven said.
“Sometimes there’s not much else for a man to do other than laugh at things.”
“Sure. But we don’t have much time to amuse ourselves.”
“What do you mean?” Clint asked.
“Just that there’s no telling how long it’ll be before this cart is stopped again and … well … Lord only knows what might happen then.”
“True enough.”
For the next couple of minutes, the only sound within the cart was the echo of the wheels grinding against the road and the thumping rhythm of hooves beating the ground. A wind blew through the warped boards of the cart’s walls, making a ghostly whistle that slowly faded away.
Sven held his arms in front of him much like Clint. Since their wrists were bound in a similar fashion, they didn’t really have much choice. “So,” he said. “Do you think you could take Howlett?”
“That’s hard to say. Especially since I barely know him.”
“But you must know if you could take him.”
“Why do you ask? There are plenty of others in this group to worry about.”
“But Howlett seems like the toughest one,” Sven said. “If you could take him, then you could take them all, right?”
Clint furrowed his brow as if he was mulling over the proposition. Then he said, “I suppose that makes sense. But men like Howlett don’t worry me.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Because they’re not the ones you need to worry about. The ones that pose a bigger threat are the sneaky little rats who get in close so they can stab you when your back’s turned.”
Sven looked mildly confused.
“They might even go so far as to pretend to be a prisoner,” Clint continued, “and act scared or weak just to keep an eye on you, feel you out, find your strengths and weaknesses, waiting for a good time to make their move.”
Sven no longer looked confused. Everything about him changed in the space of one second. First he was huddled over and gazing at Clint with frightened puppy dog eyes. Then he was sitting up straight, glaring at him like a child that was getting ready to crush a spider beneath his foot.
“The thing about these little rats that make them so dangerous,” Clint continued, “is how convincing they can be. Even after you sniff one out, you may never be certain about how, exactly, it got there.”
“What are you saying?” Sven asked.
Leaning forward a bit, Clint replied, “I know you’re not just some idiot who was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I’m not an idiot, that’s why.” A sly grin eased across Clint’s face. “Or maybe you’re just not as smart as you think you are.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sven made a fist and knocked against the front wall of the cart. Immediately upon hearing that, the driver pulled back on his reins and brought the team to a halt. The Chinese man with the long beard and mustache was the one who opened the door. He had a gun in his hand which he aimed at Clint at the first opportunity.
“Get me out of here,” Sven said. When the Chinese man paused for a moment, Sven barked, “Now!”
After that, the Chinese man couldn’t move fast enough. He untied Sven from his ropes and even helped him down from the cart. As soon as he was out, Sven started issuing orders. Clint tried to listen in on what was being said but the task was difficult after the cart was closed up again. Outside, hushed voices and quick footsteps surrounded the cart. Clint stayed put until the cart was opened once again.
“Well?” he said. “Am I going to get the grand treatment too?”
Although Clint wasn’t expecting anyone to follow through on that, he wasn’t expecting to be pulled partway out of the cart and flipped onto his side so his back was to the open end. He most definitely wasn’t expecting a clubbing blow to the back of his head, which was exactly what he got.
When he woke up again, he was sitting on the ground against a rock with his hands tied behind his back. At first, he thought a blindfold was tied over his eyes again. After a few blinks, he realized the darkness around him was due to a lack of sunlight.
“How long,” he croaked. Clint’s throat was scratchy and his entire body ached. He filled his lungs with air, licked his lips and tried again. “How long was I out this time?”
“Most of the day,” a smooth, familiar voice replied.
Clint had to turn and crane his neck to get a look at the one who’d answered him. When he did, he not only saw Andrea but also spotted a pair of campfires flickering about thirty yards away. The cart was parked near the fires and the horses were hitched there as well. Once Clint spotted Eclipse drinking from a large bucket of water, he relaxed a little.
“That stallion has spirit,” Andrea said. “Almost too much for his own good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clint asked.
Moving in closer to him, Andrea lowered herself to her knees so she could look straight into Clint’s face without looming above him. “He nearly proved to be too much to handle,” she said. “When we first got him, he was wild as can be.”
“So you were one of the thieves that took him?”
“No. All of us in the core group share most everything. It’s always ‘we’ and ‘us’.”
“How beautiful,” Clint grunted.
“I suppose none of us really believe it, though. After all, we are a bunch of thieves. Howlett’s the one with the knack for sneaking in and making off with anything on four legs before anyone’s the wiser. Don’t feel bad that he got yours away from you, either. He once took half a dozen cavalry horses straight out of an Army corral without raising a single alarm. He would’ve gotten away with more if it wasn’t for some corporal who wandered out that way to take a piss. At least, that’s how he tells it.”
> “I’m sure he’s told you a lot of things.”
“So you think he’s all just talk?”
“Not at all,” Clint replied. “He strikes me as the sort of man who likes to back up what he says.”
“So is Farraday,” Andrea said. She scooted closer to him and reached out to tug on the front of Clint’s shirt. “Tell me. How long did you know he was pretending to be your prisoner?”
“If I revealed that sort of information, it might take away some of the wonder. Isn’t that what life is all about?”
Andrea smiled and positioned herself so she was straddling Clint’s legs. “What if I offered you something in return?”
“What do you have to offer? How about setting me free and giving me my horse?”
“That’s already on the table.”
“Right. How about doing those things without making me ride with a bunch of lunatics headed for the edge of a cliff?”
“Is that how you see us?” she asked through a little pout.
“Not at all. You’re revolutionaries,” Clint said. “Trail blazers. Forward thinkers. Now cut me loose.”
Andrea clearly wasn’t buying Clint’s thinly veiled attempt at appeasement. Instead, she was clearly distracted by something else. Her hands hand wandered down the front of his body and were making their way to his groin. “What if I had something else to offer?”
“In return for what?”
She rubbed the growing bulge in Clint’s jeans while leaning forward to whisper, “Let’s just call it my way of showing how much I appreciate you taking Farraday down a few pegs. If we work together, we could take over this whole operation.”
“What profit is there in that?”
“Later,” Andrea said. “Or would you rather talk business now?”
Clint could think of a few more matters to discuss but his body was sending a different message. At the moment, that second message was taking precedence.
