“. . . at my wit’s end,” Grissom was saying. “She has her mind set on going back to California.”
“Don’t take this wrong,” Burt Alacord said, “but did you really expect her to go on robbin’ banks and stages? Who ever heard of a female outlaw?”
“I didn’t think that far ahead,” Grissom said gloomily.
“You want my advice? You’ll let her go. You can’t force her to stay. Unless you’re thinkin’ of doin’ as she wants and goin’ straight.”
“I’m tempted.”
“Honest to God?” Alacord said in surprise.
“She’s my daughter, damn it. I should try to make up for deserting her. To be the father she never had.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“You heard her. It’s what she wants.”
“And you kept it from me. We’ve been friends for over twenty years, and you’ll walk away on her account.”
“I haven’t made up my mind yet. I was waiting until I did to tell you. I knew how you’d take it.”
Willy looked over at the sleeping form of Jenna Grissom. That girl was nothing but trouble. Without her pa to lead them, the gang would fall apart. They’d drift their separate ways, and likely never have it as good as they did now. He should be angry about it, but he wasn’t. He was angry about something else.
Jenna had rejected him. He’d admitted his feelings for her, and she’d thrown them in his face. He vividly recollected the cold look that came over her when he’d tried to kiss her. One little kiss. That was all he’d wanted. She’d turned her face and twisted free, and given him a hurt look. “I thought I could trust you,” she’d said. Then she had wheeled and gone off, and the next morning, she’d disappeared.
Willy was sure he was to blame, that when her pa caught up to her, she’d tell Cal what he’d done and Cal would be furious with him. But no. She hadn’t said a word.
Why? Willy wondered. Could it be that maybe she cared for him, if only a little, and she didn’t want to get him in trouble? If so, there was hope for him yet. He might win her over, given time. Time he wouldn’t have if Cal and her went off to start a new life together.
Willy placed his hand on his Colt and drummed his fingers. He had a decision to make. A big decision. It depended on which was more important to him—riding with the Grissom gang, or Jenna. The father or the daughter. His thoughts were intruded on by Cal Grissom saying his name.
Willy looked up.
“We’re turning in,” Cal said. “Those lawdogs are still out there and might try something. I want someone keeping watch. Say, two hours each. Do you mind taking the first?”
“Fine by me,” Willy said. It would give him time to think.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Burt Alacord said. “They’ll want their horses, and their guns.”
“They won’t get either while I’m keepin’ watch,” Willy vowed.
Grissom and Alacord went to their respective bedrolls, spread their blankets, and made themselves comfortable.
Willy refilled his tin cup. Two hours wasn’t very long. He’d have no trouble staying awake. He sipped, and stared at Jenna. She was curled on her side with her back to him.
In the distance a coyote yipped.
Willy scanned the woods. The firelight didn’t spread that far, but it did bathe the horses in enough light that if the lawmen tried anything, he’d spot them right away.
Willy glanced over at Grissom and Alacord. They were lying still but might not be asleep yet. He’d give them a while.
The Prussian began snoring.
An owl hooted.
“What to do?” Willy said quietly. An idea had occurred to him. A loco idea. But the more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him. It was unlike anything he’d ever done, but there was a first time for everything.
Is she worth it? Willy asked himself. Only he could answer that. He checked on her father and Alacord again. They appeared to be asleep. Setting down the cup, he rose and moved around the fire. Jenna still had her back to him. He was almost to her when she suddenly rolled over. He stopped, fearing she’d open her eyes, but no.
She mumbled something, was all.
Willy hunkered, folded his arms across his knees, and watched her sleep. She was so beautiful it about took his breath away. Her smooth cheeks, those lips, her hair. It was all he could do not to reach out and stroke it. He’d never wanted anyone or anything as much as he craved Jenna Grissom at that particular moment.
Willy looked over at her father once more. He liked Cal. He truly did. He liked riding with him. But not enough to make him rethink his crazy notion.
Bending over Jenna, Willy listened to her breathe. Every soft breath was like a caress on his skin. He grew hot all over, and prickled as if he’d broken out in a rash. He could smell her, a scent like no other. His mouth went dry, and his need mounted.
Willy made up his mind. The consequences be damned, he would do what he had to. Rising, he quietly retraced his steps around the fire and over to their horses. He hadn’t unsaddled his. Thankfully, Jenna’s mare didn’t shy when he threw her saddle blanket on, and then her saddle. He couldn’t help making a little noise, but no one woke up. When he was done, he led both animals over to where Jenna lay.
This was the moment of truth. Willy could still change his mind. He could take the horses back and wait until the two hours were up and wake someone to relieve him.
Willy firmed his jaw. No, he wanted her too much. Taking his rope, he pulled his boot knife and cut a length long enough for his purpose. Replacing the rope on his saddle, he sank to a knee, untied his bandanna, and wadded it.
Just then Tom Kent rose on an elbow and gazed sleepily around. He saw Willy and gave a little wave. Apparently he didn’t notice the rope or the bandanna.
Willy smiled and nodded.
Kent rolled onto his stomach and went back to sleep.
It was now or never, Willy told himself. Jenna’s right arm lay flat beside her, her left across her bosom. Making a small loop at one end of the rope, he was about to slide it over her hand when she muttered and moved, placing both wrists side by side. He couldn’t ask for better luck. Quickly, he gingerly lifted her right hand, slid the loop around her wrist, then pressed her right forearm against her left. It was the work of seconds to bind her.
Jenna stirred and blinked and raised her head. “What—”
Willy shoved his bandanna into her mouth. She recoiled and sputtered, and he put his mouth to her ear. “You wake anyone up, I’ll gun them before they can get to their feet.”
Jenna’s eyes grew wide.
“Not a peep, or you pa is the first I’ll shoot,” Willy said. Scooping her into his arms, he threw her over her saddle, legs first. She clutched the saddle horn and looked at him in disbelief.
Quickly, Willy vaulted onto his horse, grabbed her reins, and rode off into the night with his prize.
24
Alonzo Pratt couldn’t believe his eyes. He and Deputy Stone had snuck to the south side of the clearing and were crouched behind a thicket. They were waiting for the outlaws to turn in. Then Stone aimed to get to their horses and get out of there.
“They’ll be after us at daybreak,” Stone had whispered, “and if they have a good tracker, we could be in trouble.”
To Alonzo’s way of thinking, they already were. It was loco, them going up against a pack of vicious killers who would shoot them dead as quick as look at them.
All the outlaws except Willy Boy Jenkins finally retired to their blankets.
Alonzo was perplexed when Willy went over and, for the longest while, stared at Jenna Grissom. When Willy Boy brought a pair of horses over, his puzzlement grew. Then Willy produced the rope and the gag, and Alonzo was lanced by alarm. “What is he up to?”
“He’s goin’ to snatch her, I bet,” Stone said, sounding amazed.
“No.” Alonzo forgot himself and raised his voice. Not loud enough for Willy to hear, but close to it.
“Hush, consarn you,” Stone cautioned. “Grissom and those others will hear you if you’re not careful.”
Anything else Alonzo might have said was drowned out by the drumbeat of hooves as Willy spurred his mount to the west and took Jenna with him.
Brandishing their hardware, the other outlaws sprang up. They likely figured they were under attack by hostiles, or the law, or even Stone and Alonzo. Some rose in time to see Willy Boy and Jenna plunging into the trees.
“What the hell?” Cal Grissom roared. “Where’s Willy going with my girl?”
Burt Alacord was the only one who had the presence of mind to try to stop him. Taking several swift steps, he drew his right-hand Colt in a blur of motion and fanned two shots into the trees after Willy.
“Don’t!” Cal cried. “You might hit Jenna!”
“Did I just see right?” Weasel said. “Is that fool Willy Boy stealin’ her?”
“Looks like it to me,” Ira Fletcher said.
Cal Grissom started toward the woods, then must have realized the futility of giving chase on foot. Stopping, he looked at his men. “Why are you just standing there? Saddle our horses! We’re going after them.”
The outlaws scrambled to obey.
Alonzo looked at Stone, who returned the favor.
“Well, this is somethin’.”
What does that even mean? Alonzo wondered. “That poor girl is in trouble.”
“It’s what Cal Grissom gets for lettin’ her ride with men like those who ride with him,” Stone said. “They were askin’ for trouble.”
“I bet he never expected anything like this,” Alonzo said. “Her, neither.”
“Then they’re fools. Those are the worst outlaws in the territory. What did the Grissoms think, that Jenkins and those others would act like saints?”
“You know everything, don’t you?” Alonzo said, irritated that the lawman wasn’t more worried about Jenna.
“What did I do?”
The outlaws were experts at fanning the breeze quickly. They had to be, the lawless profession they’d chosen. They saddled their mounts in no time. When Cal Grissom swung onto his, the rest were already in the saddle, their reins poised.
“You saw with your own eyes, gents,” Cal said savagely. “That son of a bitch took my girl!”
“I never did trust him,” Weasel Ginty said.
Cal Grissom rose in his stirrups. “I want Willy Boy alive if possible so I can show him what I do to those who turn on me.”
“What if he won’t let us take him alive?” Tom Kent said.
“I won’t be a stickler about it,” Cal said. He made a fist and waved it over his head. “Now after them! And we don’t stop till my daughter is safe. You hear me?”
With a chorus of angry yips and yells, the outlaws galloped to the chase.
“Will you look at that?” Jacob Stone said. “A gift horse, and then some.” Grinning, he rose and strode from concealment.
In their haste to go save Jenna Grissom, the gang had forgotten about Archibald and the packhorse, and Stone’s own animal.
“Hold on,” Alonzo said, half-worried that one of the outlaws would glance back and see them.
Stone beckoned. “Come on, son. Time’s a wastin’. The Good Lord has seen fit to lend us a hand, and we should take advantage of his generosity.”
Nervous as a cat in a yard full of hounds, Alonzo stalked from hiding. “I never saw anything like this in all my born days,” he marveled.
“Makes two of us.”
The fire still blazed, the coffee and the remains of the outlaws’ supper left untended.
“It was reckless of them leavin’ our horses,” Alonzo said.
Stone had stepped around the fire, and drew up short. Staring down, he grinned and said, “That’s not all they left behind.”
There, in a pile, sat the lawman’s six-shooter and rifle and Alonzo’s own six-shooter.
“We’ll, I’ll be,” Alonzo said in delight.
Stone reclaimed his hardware. “I feel undressed without these.” He brushed his rifle off, checked that his Colt was loaded, and nodded in satisfaction. “This is an omen, son.”
Alonzo saw it as pure luck. He was glad to be armed again, but guns weren’t as important to him as they were to the deputy. Shoving his Colt into his holster, he said, “If you say so.”
“I do,” Stone insisted. “It’s the Almighty’s way of sayin’ we need to go after them. Nothin’ has changed. We’ll still put an end to the Grissom gang once and for all.”
“All we’ve done so far is get ourselves caught,” Alonzo reminded him.
“A setback,” Stone said, “which has been set right. We’re back where we started.”
“Only without Jenna.” Saying it filled Alonzo with dread. “Who knows what Jenkins will do to her?”
“We both know the answer to that.”
“He’d better not,” Alonzo said. The thought of Willy Boy’s hands on her made him burn with fury.
Turning, Jacob Stone helped himself to a tin cup, lifted the pot, and poured.
“What in the name of heaven are you doin’?” Alonzo asked. “We don’t have time to waste. We should be after them.”
“In a minute,” Stone said. “First we eat and drink to keep our strength up.”
Alonzo fought an impulse to hit him. “How can you think of food with Jenna held captive? What on earth is wrong with you?”
“Nothin’,” Stone said, treating himself to a bite of biscuit. “I’m not the one who’s in love with her.”
Forgetting himself, Alonzo said, “What if I am? Is that so bad? She’s a fine gal, and you know it.”
“I admit she is,” Stone said, nodding and chewing. “She’s also a bank and stage robber, and must be held to account.”
“Over my dead body,” Alonzo vowed.
“What a terrible thing for a lawman to say.”
In a welter of emotion, Alonzo opened his mouth to tell Stone the truth.
* * *
The night wind was cool on Willy’s face as he led Jenna Grissom across the prairie at a gallop. It was reckless to ride that fast at night. Prairie-dog holes and other dangers were all too common. But if he didn’t spirit Jenna far away, and quick, he wouldn’t live to see the dawn.
Now that he’d actually done it, Willy was a bit amazed. He’d stolen a woman! Cal Grissom’s girl, no less.
Willy supposed he shouldn’t be so surprised. He stole for a living, after all. Money. Valuables. Whatever he could get his hands on. Stealing a woman was no different. So what if she was a living, breathing person? Stealing was stealing.
And, too, Willy wanted her. Or a better word was “desired” her. Or “craved” her. He liked that one, craved. He was in love. There was no other explanation.
When over a mile of hard riding dropped behind them, Willy brought their animals to a stop.
Jenna was holding fast to her saddle horn with her bound hands. Either the gag had jiggled loose or she’d tried to spit it out, because one end dangled from her mouth.
“You probably want that out of there,” Willy said, and reaching over, he yanked the bandanna out.
Jenna tried to spit a few times, and couldn’t. “You miserable wretch.”
“The thing you need to know,” Willy said, “is that if you holler for them to hear, I’ll hit you so hard, your teeth will rattle.”
“I believe you would, you animal.” Jenna raised her wrists toward him. “Untie me.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Shifting in his saddle, Willy studied their backtrail. So far there was no sign of anyone. “Looks like we got clean away.”
“Now who’s being stupid?” Jenna said. “My father won’
t rest until he catches up to us.”
“That’ll take some doin’,” Willy said. “I don’t aim to make it easy.”
“Why did you do this?” Jenna said. “Tell me that much, will you? We were getting along. I treated you nicely, even when you overstepped yourself.”
“Is that what you call a man sayin’ he loves you and wants to do right by you? He oversteps?”
“The woman has to want to, too.”
“Not really,” Willy said.
“What now?” Jenna scornfully asked. “You ravish me?”
“Hell, no,” Willy said. “I aim to have you as my missus.”
Jenna appeared thunderstruck.
“You heard me right,” Willy said. “You and me will do well together. You’ve been on a few robberies. You know how it goes.”
“Let me be sure I understand the full enormity of your stupidity. . . .”
“Hey, now,” Willy said.
“You want me to be your wife?”
“Correct,” Willy said, proud of the fancy word he used.
“And you want the two of us to rob banks and stagecoaches and whatever else strikes your fancy?”
“I do,” Willy said, confirming it with a nod.
“And do you want us to have children, too?”
“Why not?” Willy said. “We could be a family. The family you never had but you’ve always hankered after.”
“And we’ll rob our days away in merry contentment, and live happily ever after? Is that how this goes?”
“You sure put it sweet,” Willy flattered her. “I couldn’t have said it better, myself.”
“I’ve been abducted by a moron.”
“Stop that,” Willy said.
Jenna jabbed her thumbs toward his head. “What do you have between your ears? Rocks? You can’t just take a woman and make her yours. That’s not how it works.”
“Sure it does. I bet I’m not the only man who’s ever done this,” Willy said. “You’ll like it, in time. I’ll treat you right. Give you all the things your pretty heart wants.”
With deliberate slowness, accenting each word, Jenna growled, “I . . . don’t . . . want . . . you.”
Guns on the Prairie Page 18
