“But, boss...”
The man didn’t argue more because he, too, sported a bullet hole in the head. The force of the blast threw the cowboy out of the saddle. Harrison grabbed the man’s terrified animal by the bit and forced her nose toward her hooves until she stood still, quivering and sweating. Then he led the mare to his dead horse, transferred his rifle and ammunition, and swung into the saddle. With a vicious swipe of his spurs, he sent the animal tearing up the trail.
He’d gone a half-mile before he realized he was alone. He hauled back on the reins and held on as his mount slid in the dirt trying to answer his command. Then he sat perfectly still for one minute, two, waiting for the blood to stop pounding in his ears. In his fury, he’d killed one of his best men. True, the man was as stupid as a fence post, but he’d been deadly with a rifle. It was a foolish mistake, but the man should never have questioned an order.
When his anger had subsided enough that he could once again distinguish the sounds around him from the noises in his head, Harrison reined his horse around and retraced his path.
Martin Cooke was busy cleaning out his dead friend’s pockets. The man they called Wolf sat on his horse, staring at Harrison with eyes that seemed to glow in the gathering darkness. No expression showed in their pewter depths, reminding Harrison of the animal he was named for. The gray streaks beginning to show in the tracker’s dark hair made him look even more like his namesake. It was unsettling to meet his eyes and not know if he was going to help you or kill you. But he was the best tracker in the territory and Harrison needed him.
Martin looked up as Harrison rode up, waiting for approval before returning to his task. The man had already taken the rest of the gear from the dead horse and loaded it onto the pack horse. Martin was a useful man to have around.
Harrison looked toward Wolf. “Which way?”
The man shrugged. “Too dark to tell, now. He’s changed direction to throw us off. I’ll hunt again in the morning.”
“You’ll do it now.”
Wolf shrugged again and bumped his horse in the ribs, setting off at a slow walk while he stared at the ground. He’d gone only a few yards before he stopped and dismounted. “I’ll hunt again in the morning.”
Harrison’s fingers itched to grab his revolver and shoot the man where he stood, but that would be beyond foolish. Not only was Wolf the best tracker in the territory, he was deadly with the weapons he wore strapped to his hips and chest. Though he was a good shot, Harrison wasn’t sure he was faster. Better to control his temper and not chance it. He could take his revenge later, when the man wore out his usefulness. He climbed from the saddle and walked a few yards away to relieve himself.
“Start a fire. I’m hungry,” he called over his shoulder. When Martin jumped to do his bidding, Harrison realized another reason he shouldn’t have shot Marks. He’d been responsible for the horses. Now he’d have to groom his own, or tell Martin to do it and wait an hour longer for a meal. He didn’t really care about anything’s comfort but his own, but the horses meant the difference between living and dying out here. They were the only thing he put ahead of himself.
He loosened the buckles on the cinches and lifted the saddle from the skittish mare. Talking softly to her, he found the currycomb and brush buried in the saddlebags and set to work, calming the horse and letting her become accustomed to him. The little filly would have to carry him around now and she needed to learn who was master. He found he liked the prospect of riding a female all day.
When he glanced around, Wolf was nowhere to be seen. Harrison wasn’t really concerned. The man never stayed near the fire. He would disappear when they began to make camp and reappear the next morning, just as they were ready to ride. It was a little unnerving how the man always seemed to know what was going on, even though he wasn’t there.
Harrison had hired Wolf a few months earlier to help him find a girl who’d eluded them all for nearly eight years. Until Wolf. When they’d ridden into that little godforsaken Texas town in the middle of a freak blizzard, there she was, in the first house they’d come upon. He’d been careful not to get too close. He didn’t want to scare her into running again.
He’d taken the time to plant a story about her servicing him and his boys, so the town wouldn’t be too quick to rush to her defense when he returned for her. It’d been almost too easy. The townsfolk were so mistrusting of each other, they swallowed his story without question. As soon as he finished his urgent business with a large herd of stolen cattle, he would go back and get her. Only a few more days. Then she would pay for all the years of trouble she’d caused.
•♥•
Jake let Calvin sleep long past the fall of darkness and the rise of the moon. His hands were numb, but at least with the boy in his arms, he didn’t have to be concerned with him falling off. Now that the moon was rising, Jake could see well enough to increase the pace. The more distance between them and Harrison the better.
He didn’t pull Griffin to a stop until Calvin began to stir, a couple of hours before dawn. Jake started talking before the boy opened his eyes. “Look at that moon. It’s putting out so much light you’d swear it was still daylight.”
The sound of his voice seemed to work. Calvin stiffened a little, but he didn’t panic. “You ready to get down and walk a little, maybe have something to eat?” Jake turned Griffin out of the stream they’d been wading in for the last hour and pulled him to a stop. He turned the boy in his arms until his legs straddled the horse’s neck. “Hold on to his mane for a minute.” When he complied, Jake swung a leg over the saddle and to the ground, groaning at the stiffness of his muscles. “I must be getting old.” Calvin giggled, a childlike sound that warmed Jake’s heart.
“Can you get down from there or do you need me to help?” When Calvin dragged one leg over Griffin’s neck and held out his arms to be lifted off, Jake thought the sun had risen. How could the trust of one little boy make a man feel ten feet tall?
Jake stepped behind a scrub bush to heed nature’s call and Calvin followed along behind. He was grateful the darkness hid the blush he felt climbing his neck. He’d never had a shadow before. As they walked back to Griffin together, boy keeping step with man, copying his movements, Jake was reminded again of Nathan.
“How old are you, Calvin?”
“Seven-and-a-half.”
“‘And-a-half’, huh? When will you be eight?”
“On Independence Day, July the fourth.”
Jake would have to remember to tell Rachel. “I know another little boy about your age. His name is Nathan and he’s a good friend of mine. He’s got blond hair just like yours. The day I met him, he had three hens, a rooster, and two goats living in his house.”
“Really? Inside?”
While he rubbed some warmth back into Griffin’s fetlocks, he told Calvin about waking up in Rachel’s home after being out in the snowstorm. “Surrounded by all those animals, I felt like I was on Noah’s Ark.”
“That must have been something to see.” Calvin took the jerky Jake dug out of the saddlebags and gnawed off a piece. “Why’d he have a goat?”
“His sister spins the wool into yarn and sells it to the ladies in town. It makes nice, soft, warm wool blankets. I slept under one for a few nights, so I know.”
They finished off the jerky and shared the water in Jake’s canteen while Griffin made short work of the grass growing near the water. To be sure the big animal had enough to eat, Jake opened another pack and scooped out some grain into his hat. It was easier than removing the saddlebag.
“Who’s that for?”
“Griffin. He needs more to eat than we do.”
“Can I feed him?”
“Sure. Just pour it on the ground in front of him. He’ll find it quick enough.”
Jake retied the saddlebag. Satisfied everything was ready, he turned to find Calvin feeding Griffin the grain straight out of Jake’s hat. He would have protested, since he didn’t want to wear a soggy hat, but the bo
y was grinning and giggling and talking to the horse just like a seven-year-old boy should. Jake couldn’t bring himself to stop his fun. He resigned himself to wearing a hat that smelled of crushed grain and horse slobber.
When Griffin had finished the feed and was starting to chew on the felt hat, Jake called a halt. “We need to get back on the trail. We’ve got a long way to go.”
“Where we heading?”
“I’m taking you to Lucinda, where Nathan and his sister, Rachel, live. You can stay with them for a while.”
The boy stopped, his eyes huge.
“What’s wrong?” Jake spun around, searching the shadows for what had spooked Calvin.
“What if he finds me there?”
Jake was confused. “He doesn’t know anything about...” That wasn’t true. Harrison had been through Lucinda, just after he and his underlings had nearly beaten Jake to death.
“We still have to get moving.” He scooped the boy up and set him on Griffin’s saddle, then mounted behind him. Jake got Calvin settled and waited until small arms wrapped around his middle before bumping the horse in the ribs.
He set a steady pace northeast, toward Fort Davis, and rode for an hour in silence before turning west toward Lucinda.
“The bad man talked about someone called Rachel all the time, after... when he thought I was asleep. I think that’s why he hurt my baby sister, ’cause Amanda looked like her.”
Calvin fell silent and after a time dropped off to sleep again, leaving Jake alone with his thoughts. If what the boy said was true, then Harrison was after Rachel. But why? Harrison had never seen Rachel until the night of the snowstorm. Unless...
His head spun as the truth hit him. Harrison was after Rachel. If he saw her the night of the blizzard, he knew right where to find her. And instead of stopping him, Jake was leading the madman right to her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
For Rachel, the days passed in a fog of fear and grief. The first one was the hardest. Jake rode away with anger sizzling between them, and the heavens had opened, crying buckets of rain for what she’d lost.
As she went through the motions, day after day, cooking and doing Nathan’s chores in addition to her own, reality settled like a stone in her heart. He didn’t want her. Her mother was a prostitute, she didn’t know her father...no wonder Jake wouldn’t marry her. How could he explain it to his mother or introduce her to his friends?
“Sis? Sis!”
Rachel jumped, so lost in her misery she didn’t hear her brother approach.
“Sis, are you all right?”
“Of course I am. Why do you ask?”
“Well, you’ve been staring at that bowl of batter for almost ten minutes, but you haven’t stirred it at all.”
“Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“About Ranger McCain? Why did he have to leave so soon?”
She closed her eyes, fighting sudden tears. “He has a job to do, Nathan. He can’t stay here, even if he wanted to.”
“Did you want him to? Is that why you’re so sad?”
Rachel nodded. She didn’t think words would get past the lump in her throat.
Nathan leaned against her, offering comfort. “I wish he could have stayed, too. I really miss him.”
A sob broke through Rachel’s control, shaking her.
He patted her hand. “You don’t have to worry about him, Sis. He’ll be fine. Going after bad men is what a Texas Ranger is supposed to do.”
She smiled through the pain. Her little brother was so sure that nothing could harm his hero. “You’re probably right. I’m just being silly.”
“You’re being you. When will that cake be ready?”
“What cake?”
“Sis!”
She was a little surprised to find she could smile. Teasing her brother always seemed to make her heart a little lighter. “It will be a while yet. Don’t you have some spelling words to practice?”
He wanted to argue, but, to her surprise, he didn’t say anything, just turned and limped to the table where his slate waited. Her smile faded as she watched his progress. They’d been fortunate that his leg wasn’t broken, but he was still in a lot of pain. From what he could remember, several larger rocks had hit him, bouncing on the floor of the mine before landing on him. Their crushing force had been spent on the dirt, but they’d still landed on him, battering and bruising as they fell. For a moment she was in the mine, feeling every impact, tasting his fear. She shoved the memory aside. If she let it, the fear could overwhelm her, and she was going to need all her courage.
The scrape of chalk on slate brought her back to the present. Settling the large bowl on her hip, she stirred the cake batter as she stood beside Nathan, checking his words as he wrote them. “Very good. You got every one correct. I believe your penmanship is improving as well.”
“It ought to be; I’ve practiced enough in the last five days. May I go outside now?”
“I don’t think you should.” Rachel knew she was being unreasonable, but she didn’t want him out of her sight. “Your leg is still healing and—”
“I’m not a cripple.”
She stopped stirring, hearing his frustration. “I know that, Nathan. But you were nearly killed in that mine and I—”
“But I wasn’t. I’m fine. I can walk and talk and I’m sick of reading and resting and practicing my letters. I have responsibilities, as you used to remind me all the time.”
He stomped from the room, or as close as he could muster, limping like he was. Rachel started after him. “Where are you going?”
“To check on the chickens.”
She fought down her panic. He was only going outside. She dropped onto the bench he’d vacated and shoved the bowl of batter aside. Tears threatened again, burning her eyes, but she couldn’t indulge in a bout of weeping. It wouldn’t change anything and she didn’t want to answer the inevitable questions from Nathan. But she longed to lay her head in her hands and sob out her loneliness and fear.
All she’d ever wanted from life was a husband who cared for her and Nathan, a small house that she could make into a welcoming home, and children of her own. She looked around her. She had the house, but no husband, and now, no work. Without money there would be no food, let alone new curtains, and she wouldn’t be able to whitewash the outside until it gleamed in the morning sun as she’d imagined so often. She was back where she’d been when they’d arrived in Lucinda, broke, with nowhere to turn.
Rachel pushed to her feet and went through the motions to finish the cake. They didn’t need it, but Nathan loved sweets and she couldn’t bring herself to deny him anything. He’d lost so much in the past days. It was little enough to do if it made him happy.
While it baked, she took stock of their remaining supplies. There was plenty to last them for a while, thanks to Jake, but what would she do when it was gone? She needed money, but how could she earn any? In spite of what the townspeople thought of her, she would starve before turning to her mother’s way of life. But she had Nathan to consider. He seemed to always be hungry these days. How was she going to feed him?
She grabbed her cloak from its hook. She needed to check on Nathan. A cold breeze swept into the cabin as she opened the door. Rachel stuffed her hands into her pockets to keep them warm and something grazed her knuckles. When she pulled it out, possibilities glittered in the sunlight.
She stared at the rock Nathan had slipped to her the night of the cave-in. She’d completely forgotten the stone after they’d gotten to the house, and she and Jake had... The gold flecks within the crystal sparkled in the sunlight, a tiny ribbon of security just waiting to be released. Could she do it?
The idea had been forming unrecognized in her mind since Jake rode away. She knew the gold was in the mine. She just had to find a way to get it out. The cave-in might have buried it further, or maybe the vein was now exposed, waiting for her. Fear and heady excitement gripped her heart and squeezed. It wasn’t being in the dangerous cave that fright
ened her. It was Jake. He’d be furious if he found out she went back to such a dangerous place. She squared her shoulders. It didn’t matter. Jake wasn’t here anymore.
She stared across the sweep of rocky ground leading to the mine, listening to her heart race, considering. What was she afraid of?
Failure, she finally admitted. She feared failing. If she failed, she’d have nothing, not even hope. But she had nothing left now, so why not try?
The decision made, her fear faded and she started making plans.
“Sis,” Nathan called from the lean-to. “I smell cake. Is it ready?”
She’d forgotten the oven. “Not yet. When did you get to be so impatient?”
She missed his answer as she ducked into the cabin to pull the confection from the oven. It was a little too brown, but that was easily hidden beneath the glaze she planned to make. Jake had included five pounds of sugar in the supplies he’d sent. The man had a sweet tooth, just like Nathan. Her smile faded. Jake wouldn’t be here to enjoy this cake, or any other cake she made. He was gone. Even if she found the gold, she wouldn’t have Jake. Loneliness threatened to overwhelm her.
“Stop it, Rachel Catherine,” she whispered aloud. “Stop thinking about him.”
She gathered ingredients for glaze without conscious thought. How would she get to the mine without Nathan finding out? She’d concentrate on that. How would she get to the gold? It must be buried under a lot of rock after the cave-in that tossed Jake out of the mine.
No. Don’t think about him. Think about the mine.
She poured the icing onto the warm cake and smoothed it across the surface.
Once she had enough gold to last them, she and Nathan would leave Lucinda and start again. There had to be a man somewhere who would marry her, one who didn’t know where she came from. He’d build her a house and she would have children of her own, babies that no one could take away. All she needed was the gold.
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