The minutes crawled by. The high desert in September was still warm in the middle of the day and the sun glowered unmercifully. Sweat trickled down his temples and he would have loved nothing more than to remove his hat and swipe it away, but any movement this close to his quarry might alert him to his presence. His one consolation was that Judd had to be just as hot as he was.
He worked his tongue over his lips, tried to swallow, and realized his mouth was bone dry. Moving as little as possible he picked up a small pebble, polished the dust off with his thumb, and then put it into his mouth. His tongue immediately moistened up. He’d almost forgotten about the old trick he’d learned from Uncle Sean when they’d been tracking a horse thief down in the Deschutes canyon one day.
Thirst somewhat abated, he occupied his mind with more pleasant thoughts. And there was one pleasant topic his mind couldn’t seem to keep away from lately – Miss Sharyah Dawn Jordan.
He remembered the disbelief in her eyes when she’d recognized him as one of her captors in the schoolhouse, the shaking of her small hands when he’d unwound the cord he’d inadvertently wrapped too tight. The way she’d trembled when he’d stepped between her and Mick Rodale in the field.
His hand fisted. He should have done better by her. Even later…
Her blond curls, wet and cascading all around her, eyes wild with fright, the night of the fire. Then there was the close call with the bullet.
If ever there was a moment he’d nearly gone off his senses, that had been it. He’d been a fool to leave her alone for even those few seconds when such danger dogged her. The sound of her gasping for breath, alive and well with only a scratch, afterwards, had been the only thing that kept his sanity intact.
A quiver of unease traversed his spine. He’d gone off and left her, once again. Was she truly safe? He forced away the worry. Tucked safely miles away, there was no chance of her getting hurt today. Anyone who wanted to harm her would be right here.
He’d never known a woman could make his knees weak, until last night. The feel of her pulse dancing beneath his thumb, when he’d almost kissed her…. The way her blush magnified her dark eyes, when he teased her about the talk they needed to finish….
He smirked. You’ve got it bad, Bennett.
He suddenly realized he’d been watching a cloud of dust grow bigger as it came toward them on the horizon. The stage was late, but it jounced toward them at a steady pace.
Alert and ready for action, he flexed his hand on the grip of his rifle, tension coiling every muscle in his body.
Movement in the road just below caught his attention. Katrina. Leading a horse from the brush with a bloody bandage wrapped around its leg. But the animal wasn’t limping, so the bandage was most likely just part of the ruse.
Collier should be taking out Katrina any moment now. Just like they’d all agreed.
He scanned the brush, but Collier was doing a good job keeping out of sight from those on the hills above him.
Cade could see the stage driver now. And the scabbard by his side held a rifle. At least he had that.
How many passengers would be on board? He hoped they would have sense enough to keep their heads down when all the ruckus started. If they came much closer it would be too late to ensure their safety.
Cade spat out the pebble and licked his lips. Where was the man? He had to start the whole thing. He should have taken Katrina several minutes earlier. Come on, Collier! He scanned the brush again.
Still nothing. Something wasn’t right.
The curtain at one of the coach windows pulled to one side and a blond woman stuck her head out to peer ahead.
He blinked and looked again. Sharyah! He would recognize those blond curls topped by that little green hat anywhere.
His heart forgot to beat for a full three seconds, and then he leapt to his feet even though Collier hadn’t initiated the attack yet.
What was she doing here!?
He snugged his rifle into his shoulder and sighted in on Judd. “Rodale, put your hands up where I can see them!”
“Judd! Look out!”
Mick? Cade started to turn. Heard three pounding footsteps and then a body slammed into him and pain burst to life in his skull. He grunted and slumped forward, losing his grip on the rifle. It clattered into the brush at his feet.
Mick’s momentum carried him off balance and he stumbled two steps sideways. Cade thrust the heel of one boot into a high kick that connected with Mick’s chin. The outlaw’s head snapped back, his eyes rolled up into his head, and he slumped to the ground.
Hadn’t Collier said Mick would be across the ravine with Billy?
Cade shook his head to dispel the encroaching blackness. Judd…He needed to move. Now!
Leaving his rifle where it lay, he shucked his Smith and Wesson Safety Revolver, and headed in a full out sprint toward Judd. This was going to be a job that required close quarters.
“Whoa!” The stage driver’s call to the horses as he neared the sharp, rutted corner sounded as clear through the desert air as if the man had been standing only a few feet away.
Judd had already leapt to his feet. Now his hand descended toward his Colt, his eyes alert but still wide with surprise.
Cade let loose with a bird call he hoped Pa would recognize as a distress signal, and then kicked one foot toward Judd’s gun-hand. He could just shoot, but he wanted to take him alive.
The man was fast for a person so large and he managed to twist to one side at the last second.
Seeing that his boot was going to miss its target, Cade landed on the balls of his feet and spun in a roundhouse to plunge his fist with all his might into the soft spot at the base of the man’s sternum.
With a whuff of air rushing from his lungs, Judd brought his Colt to bear.
Lord! It was the only prayer Cade could come up with as he slapped the gun sideways.
It discharged.
A white hot shard of flame grazed along his ribs. A grunt of agony burst forth. But at least he’d managed to knock the gun loose.
It flew into the brush beside them.
Another blast echoed from across the canyon.
In the moments where Cade’s concentration honed in on the pain, Judd kicked out, and connected with his wrist. Numbing tingles paralyzed his grip and one more kick from Judd sent his revolver end over end down the hill.
It didn’t appear Judd had another weapon. So they would settle this man to man now.
Behind them, Mick moaned and brush rustled.
One at a time. And Judd was the one to take out first.
Cade smashed his fist into Rodale’s face, but Judd’s hands wrapped around Cade’s throat, and the punch jounced harmlessly off his cheek.
Cade tried to pull in a lungful of air, to no avail. He thrust his arms up between Judd’s and gave a swift jerk to the sides, breaking Judd’s hold. He gasped for breath, knowing he only had moments before Judd came at him again. He touched his side. His hand came away sticky and red with blood. Wincing, he swung out one boot and heard a satisfying crunch when heel connected with knee cap.
Judd screamed, but didn’t go down. If anything, he grew angrier. “I’m gonna kill you, Schilling!” He limped a step forward and swung a sledge-hammer fist with all his might.
Cade dodged inside. Let loose with two quick jabs to Judd’s brisket. Danced back. “The name’s Bennett.” If it came down to a sheer slug-fest, he could take Judd on speed alone – so long as he didn’t lose too much blood.
What was going on with the others? He’d only heard one shot.
Other than the one Judd had almost bought him a ticket to eternity with.
Judd swung again, and again Cade dodged inside.
Snatching him close, Judd caught him to his chest in a mighty bear hug and Cade realized his mistake.
Set on squeezing the life from him, Judd trembled with the crushing force he exerted around Cade’s ribcage.
Face buried in Judd’s chest, arms pinned to his sides
, and unable to breathe, panic nearly set in. But then he remembered Judd’s knee. He pulled his leg back as far as he could and smashed his own knee into Judd’s.
Judd hissed and his grip loosened just enough for Cade to gasp for a lungful of air. He snapped his head back, then smashed it forward into Judd’s nose.
Blood spurted and the man instinctively let loose to grab at his face. Still heaving for breath, Cade stepped back, planted one boot in the middle of Judd’s chest, and kicked him away.
Judd tripped over a low growing sage shrub and sprawled flat on his back. Then his hand came up with his Colt.
Sharyah’s heart beat from the region of her throat. Somehow she had a sinking suspicion, based on Mr. Baylor’s reluctance to reveal details about the package he was delivering, that it must be very valuable – diamonds were very valuable. James Baylor was delivering his package to Judge Green!
But she needed to be sure. “Are you delivering diamonds to Judge Green?”
The man blinked, taken aback. He glanced from Sharyah to Jason, his hand settling on the stock of his pistol. “How do you know that?”
Jason showed the man his palms. “We don’t mean you any harm. Just take it easy.” Facing her, he questioned, “What is it?”
Sharyah ignored the question, as she wracked her brain. Cade had ridden off the night before saying he was going to deal with a situation for Judge Green that had something to do with the diamonds. Katrina Perry had tried to have her killed simply over the fact that she’d seen a letter about these diamonds.
Where the diamonds were, Katrina and the Rodale Gang were sure to be close by.
She leaned over to peer out the coach’s south-facing window. Powell Butte had been visible off in the distance for the past half hour or so. She leaned further out the window to get a better look at what lay ahead. Another low knoll rose just to the south of where the road turned sharply east. They were about to head into a narrow canyon of sorts between the butte and the knoll.
The perfect place for an ambush!
As soon as that thought registered the stage driver hollered, “Whoa!” and they slowed to take a sharp, rutted, bone-jarring turn.
She jerked her head back through the window and swallowed hard. Bracing her feet, she gripped the seat to keep from sliding forward. Her pulse raced so fast she could hear the thrum of it in her ears, even over the jangle of the trace chains, the jouncing carriage’s groans of protest, and the crunching dirt. “Jason, I think we are in for some trouble.”
It was then that the distinct echoing report of a gunshot blasted through the air!
Smith took another cautious step toward Seth Rodale, who was on his belly under a clump of brush, his rifle aimed down to where the stage would momentarily arrive.
The Sheriff was sure taking his sweet time calling out the woman.
From up on the hillside where Cade would be, Smith heard the warbling bird-call he and Cade had practiced so much when Cade was a lad.
That boy! Never did have the patience God gave a squirrel.
Well, he’d better take Seth out, before the man realized what was going on.
Apparently Cade’s warning hadn’t alerted him. Seth, his back to him, remained focused on Katrina in the ravine below.
Smith shucked his gun and said quietly, “Don’t move. I’ve got you in my sights and one twitch of a muscle will be your last.”
Seth tensed up but did the smart thing and didn’t move.
From up on the hillside a gun-shot sounded, and Smith jolted a glance that way. He thought his heart might stop. The blast had been too loud for Cade’s Smith and Wesson. Lord, please…
Forcing himself not to panic, he snapped his attention back to the man before him. Keeping his gun trained on Seth, he stepped up behind him. “Just toss your weapon over the edge.”
The man hesitated, slow to follow orders.
“You just keep on thinking, young Mr. Rodale. You think mighty hard about what the fires of hell might feel like. My guess is, if you keep on the way you are, you’ll be finding out here pretty quick.”
Rodale grunted and tossed his gun over the edge.
“Good thinking. Now with two fingers you reach into your boot and pull out your back-up piece.”
He complied.
“Toss it.”
He did.
“Much obliged. Now…” Smith pulled a length of rawhide from his vest pocket. “Let’s truss you up good and tight, like a calf at a branding.” Another gunshot rent the air. This time from across the canyon where Jonas should be.
A few moments later, the man bound hand and foot, Smith squatted next to him. “Which of you was up the hillside there?”
Seth only glowered at him.
Smith slipped the tip of his knife against the young man’s chin and raised his eyebrows.
Fear widened the boy’s eyes. “Judd and Mick.”
“Only them? I thought Montell was supposed to be over there too?”
“Plans changed at the last minute. How did you know that, anyway?”
Smith narrowed his eyes in thought.
“I ain’t lyin’!” Seth cursed him.
“Where’s Montell?”
“I already said more than I ought.”
Smith allowed the point of the knife to bite a little more deeply.
And it only took that little urging for the boy to indicate the near side of the canyon to the southwest with nod of his head.
Unease clenched Smith’s fists. That was the direction Judge Green had taken. And he wouldn’t be expecting a second man.
Smith shoved the knife back into its sheath and tied his bandana around Seth’s mouth to keep him quiet. After securing him to a tree where he would be well-shaded until he could return for him, Smith turned to the right and crept forward.
It took fifteen minutes to find Judge Green, but when he did there was no doubt that the man would be some laid up for quite a bit of time.
Green lay face-down in the blazing sun, a gash the length of a man’s little finger splitting the hair along the back of his head and oozing blood into a caked matt. The only thing to indicate he still lived was an occasional moan.
Much as he wanted to, Smith didn’t approach the man right away. Instead he circled him, needing to make sure he hadn’t been left there as bait for a trap. Only when he found two sets of fresh footprints leading away into the canyon did he feel safe to approach the judge.
Smith stripped off his shirt and laid it out so that when he turned the man over dirt wouldn’t get into the cut. “Judge,” he grabbed the man by the shoulder, “I’m going to turn you over now.”
The judge cringed but was alert enough to help, and Smith dribbled a trickle from his canteen into the man’s mouth.
Green moaned. “Thanks.” The word rasped out in a whisper. “He got the drop on me.”
“Were there two of them?”
Green wet his lips and Smith gave him a little more to drink.
“I think so. I was talking to Red, and something hit me from behind.”
“Alright, listen. I think Cade’s in trouble. I’m going to have to leave you here for a bit. First, let’s get you to that shade over there. Think you can make it?” He tipped his head toward a juniper a few paces away and started to help the man up.
That’s when he felt the press of cold metal against his neck.
“I think we ought to leave the judge lay right there where we left him. Let’s you and me take a trip down to see your boy. What do you say?”
Disgusted with himself for giving his full attention to the injured man instead of his surroundings, Smith lifted his hands wide.
How had he not heard footsteps?
The man behind him chuckled. “I might be a big fellow, but I’ve learned a thing or two about walking quietly.”
“Appears that way.” Smith left his canteen lying in the dirt next to Green. At the moment it was all the help he could give the man.
“Come on, Billy, let’s you, me and th
is hombre here go on down and join the party.” His assailant leaned forward to peer at Green. “I don’t imagine the judge there will be much of a problem to us.”
A second man a little further away guffawed. “Nope, I gave him a good whack.”
Red spat to one side. “Let’s move.”
Discouragement weighed heavy on Smith’s shoulders as he led the way, hands held up, down the steep trail into the canyon below.
What were they all going to do now?
18
Hands lifted and his heart kicking like a bucking bronc in his chest, Cade fully expected to be passing through the gates of eternity at any moment.
A snarl lifted Judd’s lip. “Not so tough now that you have a gun in your face, are you?”
Cade held his silence, not wanting to offer any fuel to the man’s temper. He pulled in a slow, steady breath.
Judd clambered to his feet, never turning his cold calculating gaze away.
Cade swallowed. Wondered how long he had left on this earth. Strained to hear if anything was happening with the stage coach in the ravine below.
Where was Sharyah? And why on earth had she been on that stage?
Judd spat and swiped at the blood coating his upper lip. “Got to say I’m actually a sight glad to run into you. We Rodales got a bit of a beef to settle with you. But I think I’ll let Mick have the pleasure.” He gestured with the gun to where Mick was still sprawled out on the ground, his mouth thinning into a grim line. “He better be alright.”
Gun and eyes still trained on Cade, Judd squatted by Mick and jostled him. “Mick. Shake it off. Wake up.”
Mick moaned, his head rolling from side to side.
Cade analyzed his chances of taking Judd while he was preoccupied. But decided against it. The man still hadn’t looked away, and Cade didn’t want to buck the odds that he’d be able to dodge another bullet.
After a few moments, Judd was finally able to get Mick onto his feet.
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