“In two days they’ll have the money from the bank.”
“Is that what you care about? The money?” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “There’s so much you don’t know.”
“Then tell me! I don’t understand anything. And yes, I do care about the money. It’s not just my money, but the money from the entire county is there.”
His hand went from her hand to cup her cheek. His eyes were earnest. “You talk of being a believer, but you can’t seem to trust anyone, not even God. You cling to your wealth as your security and carry the baggage of being unworthy, even though God loves you and has forgiven you. You should have listened a little closer to that sermon in church a couple of weeks back.” He opened his mouth as though to say more, then shook his head and turned away again. His tall form disappeared among the trees as he headed farther out from camp.
She raised her hand to stop him, then let it drop. Was he right? With horror, she realized she did cling to her status as a wealthy ranch owner for her identity. And she trusted very few people. Her eyes burned. How did she let go of all the baggage she carried?
She made herself as neat as she could without a comb or clean clothes, then walked back to the camp. The men still snored beside the smoldering coals, their breath pluming in the cold morning air.
Frank was the only one awake. “Take some breakfast to Golda. She needs to get up.”
Margaret nodded and dished up overcooked eggs from the skillet, then went to the tent where Golda had disappeared to the night before.
She scratched at the tent opening. “Miss Munster? I have some breakfast for you.”
Only silence greeted her at first. Finally, she heard, “Give me a minute, will ya?”
Golda flung back the tent opening. Her hair fanned over her shoulders and down her back like molten gold. “I don’t remember ordering breakfast.” Her hostile blue eyes raked over Margaret. “Daniel will take one look at you this morning and run the other way.”
Margaret winced, then relaxed. That’s not how Daniel had acted. “Frank told me to bring your breakfast. He said you needed to get up.”
Golda rolled her eyes but stepped back to allow Margaret entry. Margaret blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkened interior of the tent. As her vision focused, she saw clothing and possessions strewn around the tent as though a fitful child had taken everything from her closet and heaped it on the floor. There was barely room to stand without stepping on a lovely dress or two.
Golda kicked a dress out of the way and settled on an upended bucket. “I need my beauty sleep more than those disgusting eggs.”
“You’re already the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Margaret blurted out.
Golda raised an eyebrow, but a pleased smile spread over her face. Then her smile faded. “I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not stupid. You won’t get on my good side that easily. I want you out of here.” Her eyes narrowed. “I can tell you don’t fit in here. Wouldn’t you like to go home and sleep in a bed until this is over?”
Would the woman really help her? Margaret studied Golda’s cunning expression. There was likely some plan being hatched behind that beautiful face, but Margaret could easily overpower her if they got out of sight of the camp. “Well, this is the busy time of year at the ranch. It would be good to get home.”
“How about the two of us slip away, then? I’ll give you a horse and you can head for home.”
“What about Frank and the others? Won’t they be angry?”
“You’re just in the way and a distraction right now. I can handle my brother.”
Did Golda think she could attract Daniel if there was no competition? Staring into the woman’s beautiful face, Margaret thought it likely. “Let me talk to Daniel about it and make sure he’s in favor of the idea.”
“You’re one of those, then. You let your man dictate to you.”
“Daniel doesn’t dictate.” Margaret bristled at the thought.
Golda’s slim shoulders shrugged. “Looks like it to me.”
The woman was trying to goad her into something, but Margaret didn’t trust her.
While the thought of getting help was appealing, she wasn’t sure what Golda had planned. Margaret wasn’t going to rush into anything without thought. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
“You’re a very stupid woman.” Golda’s eyes flashed, and she pushed Margaret out the doorway, then yanked the opening closed.
Margaret stood staring at the closed tent flap. Her heart beat in her chest as though it wanted to get out with the same desperation as she longed to escape the camp. She turned and bumped into a broad chest. Strong hands reached out and gripped her shoulders. She knew those hands. Staring into Daniel’s face, she felt a funny hitch in her chest as emotion swamped her.
She loved him.
The shock of that realization nearly brought her to her knees. This wasn’t attraction or her head being turned by his compliments. This was love, pure and simple. Why hadn’t she seen it sooner? Something inside her recognized the man behind those dark eyes.
Who would have thought she would have so little sense? That she—who prided herself on her common sense and straight-forward approach to life—would lose her heart to a bank robber? He’d asked her to trust him. He’d said that not everything was as it appeared. But the evidence kept piling up against him. She longed to let go of her distrust.
Trust. Such a small word, yet so hard for her.
“I was just looking for you,” he said. “I’m sorry I rushed away. I think it’s time we had a talk. I keep telling you to trust me, but I don’t give you any reason to do that. God showed me how wrong that was.”
God again. How could a bank robber talk about God the way he did? As though God was a best friend Daniel consulted all the time. It made no sense to her. His relationship with God made her envious.
A man on horseback rode into camp. Daniel glanced over his shoulder, then grabbed Margaret’s arm. “Come with me.” He steered her toward the woods at the other end of the camp.
Margaret’s pulse quickened. Maybe she would finally understand why they were here—why Daniel was friends with these men. They had almost reached the edge of the woods when Frank’s voice reached them.
“Hey, Cutler, come ’ere. Our plans just got moved up.”
Daniel grew very still. Margaret could feel the coiled tension in his arm. He released her and stepped away. “Be right there,” he called. He bent his head and whispered in her ear, “Don’t wander far. Things may call for quick action. Wait for me by the river. I’ll try to be as fast as I can.”
Margaret nodded numbly. There would never be time for them to sort out all this mess.
TWENTY-FOUR
Daniel kept his face impassive as he strode toward Frank. He resisted the impulse to turn and look back at Margaret. This interruption had come at the worst possible time. She would think he was putting her off again.
He reached the camp. The gang leader’s red face spoke of his anger and agitation. “What’s up?”
Frank was frowning as he paced in front of the fire. “I’ve just found out the money is going to be transferred out tomorrow. We have to get it today at closing time. Can you and your lady friend be ready? I’ve got the dynamite.”
“Sure.” Daniel’s stomach clenched. He had to get Margaret out of danger. This job wasn’t as important to him as she was. But how did he whisk her out of harm’s way with all the members of the gang watching every move they made? There had to be a way. He had to get Charlie as well. The tasks seemed overwhelming with the time frame even shorter.
Munster pointed to the west. “Your brother’s on lookout. Go get him, and we’ll ride within the hour.”
Within the hour. He needed more time. His thoughts whirled, but he saw no easy way out, so he nodded. “I’ll get him.”
Maybe he’d be able to talk to Charlie alone. There hadn’t been any opportunity to do that since he’d arrived. Richard had kept in the background a
s well, and only a nod from him had confirmed to Daniel that all the plans were still on target. If he could get to Richard, maybe they could come up with an alternate plan.
Why did Margaret have to show up? It would take everything in him to keep her safe. He clambered over rocks and boulders as he made his way to the top of the lookout hill. A rifle across his knees, Charlie sat with his back to the camp. His hat was pulled low to shield his face from the sun, but in spite of his tough stance, Daniel saw the little boy he’d always loved.
“Frank sent me to get you.”
At the sound of Daniel’s voice, Charlie grabbed his rifle and spun around. “Oh, it’s you.” Relief lightened his freckled, sunburned face.
“The job has been moved up. We ride today.”
Charlie licked his lips, and his youthful face looked suddenly old and worn. “Munster sure we can handle it?”
“You having second thoughts?” If Charlie was uncertain, it would make Daniel’s job easier.
Charlie shrugged. “Nah, I can handle it.”
His brother’s swaggering bravado touched Daniel’s heart. All of nineteen, Charlie’s desperate desire to make a name for himself— even if it was a bad one—had brought him here. Daniel touched Charlie on the shoulder. “You got time to come to the river with me? Margaret is waiting there, and I need to talk to both of you.”
“My relief is coming now.” Charlie nodded toward Sheppard, a surly man of about fifty, who was climbing the steep hill toward them. “I thought you said Frank sent you to get me.”
“He did, but we have a few minutes. We need to talk.”
“What about? And why are you even here, Daniel?”
“I have a lot to tell you. Meet me at the river.” Daniel went back down the hill toward the river. His heart sped up at the thought of the coming revelations he had to make to Margaret and Charlie. He prayed they would understand.
MARGARET SAT ON a rock and let the good sunshine bake onto her arms. The cool morning had quickly given way to a hot spring day. Dark clouds gathered in the southwest, their tops reaching toward the heavens in dark masses. The coming storm would blow this warmth away, so she’d better enjoy it while she could. A movement caught her eye. Golda came toward her along the path from camp. She kept looking furtively back over her shoulder.
“I thought I’d find you here,” she said, huffing from the exertion of the walk. “You ready to go?”
“What?” Margaret’s heart plummeted. Daniel wanted to talk to her, to explain things. He was on his way here right now. “I told you I needed to talk to Daniel about it.”
“It has to be right now while Frank is occupied with the coming job. I have horses waiting by Thunder Creek.”
Margaret pulled away from Golda’s grip. “I don’t think so.”
Golda pulled a small pistol from the pocket of her dress. “I want you out of here. Now. So you’ll come with me, or I’ll shoot you where you stand. I’ll tell Frank you jumped me and he’ll believe it.”
Margaret was sure he would. Her thoughts raced, but she could see it wouldn’t take much for Golda to pull the trigger. One false move and that tiny gun would put a hole right through her.
Golda didn’t wait for an answer. She motioned with the gun. “Move.”
Margaret allowed Golda to prod her toward the path. If only Daniel hadn’t been called away. What would he think when he got to the river and didn’t find her? Would he suspect something had happened to her?
She and Golda made their way along the path to a small tributary that fed into the river. Two horses munched on grass beneath the tree where they were tethered. Neither was Archie.
“My horse isn’t here.”
“These will get us where we’re going.” Golda made her mount, then led the way along a path sprinkled with wildflowers.
They came to a crossroad, and Golda turned her gelding’s head to the fork that went to the right. Margaret wasn’t familiar with the area but knew the path didn’t go in the direction of home. She pulled the horse’s head up short and stopped in the middle of the path.
“This isn’t the right way.” She tensed, ready to urge her horse away from the gun Golda still held.
The other woman grinned, but the smile didn’t reach her hard blue eyes. “Oh, it’s the right path, all right.” Golda laughed, and the sound was full of mockery.
She whistled, and three riders came from behind an outcropping of rocks. Margaret was surrounded before she realized what was happening. One man grabbed her reins, and the other two flanked her mare on each side.
“What’s going on?” Margaret struggled to free herself. Tension rippled through her body.
“You said your ranch was worth a lot of money. It must be if Daniel is willing to marry you,” Golda sneered. “You didn’t think I would let you waltz out of camp without making sure I got a piece of that, did you? If Daniel wanted you with the ranch, he’ll want me with a large chunk of cash from it.” She fished in her saddlebag. “You’re going to write a note to your attorney and tell him you’re being held for ransom by Daniel Cutler. If he doesn’t pay fifty thousand dollars in two days, he’ll never see you again.”
“I won’t do it!” Margaret tried to wrench the reins from the henchman’s grasp, but he growled at her and swatted her across the face. She fell from the saddle to the ground, her face burning. She raised a hand to her throbbing cheek.
“You’ll do what you’re told, or we’ll kill you here and now,” the man told her.
Margaret rubbed her cheek. “Why blame Daniel?”
“I don’t want there to be any chance that he can go running back to the Triple T. He shows his face at the ranch after this, he’ll be shot.”
“Not if I tell him the real story.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized the truth. Once they had the money, she was expendable. Her heart squeezed in her chest, and her mouth went dry. She was in the clutches of a madwoman.
Golda dismounted, then pulled a paper and pencil from the saddlebag. She handed them to Margaret. “Write what I tell you.”
Margaret stared at her implacable face. Help me, Lord. “I won’t. If you shoot me, you’ll lose Daniel. And your brother will be furious you ruined his plans.”
Golda’s eyes narrowed. She grabbed Margaret’s hair and gave it a vicious yank. “I could give you to the men for a little while. You’d soon change your tune.”
“I won’t.” Margaret put all the conviction in her voice that she could muster. “You don’t know me, Golda. There’s nothing you can do that will make me agree. I could never hurt someone I love.”
The blond woman screeched and flew at Margaret. Her fingers were hooked into claws, but Margaret was bigger and stronger. She fielded the blows at first, then Golda’s long nails raked Margaret’s arm. Margaret grabbed Golda’s arms and wrestled her onto her back, then sat on her and pinned her hands to the ground.
“You’ll die for laying a hand on me! Wait until Frank hears what you’ve done,” Golda panted. “I’ll kill you!” She bucked and squirmed, but Margaret held her fast. “Help me, you idiots!”
Margaret had forgotten about the men. She glanced to the right and saw the man who had struck her dismounting. She rolled off Golda and sprang for her horse. She’d put her boot in the stirrup when a hard hand yanked on her braid, and she went tumbling onto her back. The man hauled her to her feet and a massive fist descended on her. When the blow struck, the pain was immense, then her vision faded to black.
TWENTY-FIVE
The storm clouds still continued to gather overhead and flocks of birds circled above Daniel’s head, but he barely noticed as he hurried toward the river. He had to see Margaret and explain. Once the truth was out, he could relax. Just looking forward to that moment eased the tension from his shoulders.
As he approached the rock where he had expected to find her, he stopped and looked around. There was no sign of her, but maybe she had gotten tired of waiting. He had taken longer than he’d expected. Munste
r would be looking for them both, and there was no time to waste. He ran back toward camp, slowing to a walk just before entering the clearing where the camp was located. He didn’t dare let anyone see his agitation. He skirted the edge of the clearing but saw no sign of Margaret. Maybe she was waiting in a different spot at the river.
He plunged into the trees and hurried back to the Red River. But fifteen minutes later he had to admit defeat. Margaret was missing. He found Charlie waiting by the big rock.
“Where you been?” his brother asked.
“Looking for Margaret.” Daniel’s stomach churned, but he was unable to put his finger on why he was so uneasy.
“I saw her with Golda heading away from camp.” Charlie’s eyes were troubled. “I was surprised Golda was having anything to do with her.”
Daniel’s unease mushroomed to full-fledged panic. Golda was pure evil, even more so than her brother. Whatever she was up to, it couldn’t be good.
“Show me!” Daniel hauled Charlie to his feet and shoved him toward the camp. “I’ll grab the horses and meet you at the base of Lookout Hill. Don’t tell anyone where we’re going.”
“I reckon I don’t know anything to tell,” Charlie said.
Daniel didn’t either, but he felt sick inside to think that Margaret was in jeopardy because of him. He had to find them. He slipped into the remuda of horses and found his gelding and Charlie’s mare. The horses were all saddled in preparation for the ride to the bank. Frank would be after them the minute he discovered the horses were gone. The problems were multiplying faster than a pet rabbit, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
He led the horses to the meeting place where Charlie waited, and they both mounted. “Show me where you saw them.”
Charlie led the way down the rocky path, and Daniel concentrated on finding the trail left by Golda and Margaret. He finally found it and saw where they veered off the track away from Larson. His last hopes that Golda wasn’t up to something sinister ebbed away.
Safe in His Arms Page 18
