Chase the Wind (Apache Runaway Book 2)

by Madeline Baker

  Chase came to an abrupt halt. Harbaugh’s face went white.

  “Sorry,” Ryder said, his expression sheepish. “Old instincts tend to take over when I’m upset.”

  Lester swallowed hard.

  “Any sign of them?” Dusty asked. He sat forward, the chair’s front legs slamming against the floor.

  Harbaugh shook his head. “No.”

  “Dammit,” Ryder said, holstering his gun, “whose fool idea was it for them to go out to Crenshaw’s anyway?”

  Lester cleared his throat. “It was Missus Fallon’s idea. She wanted to take Missus Crenshaw some foodstuffs, and Beth and Dorinda said they’d go along to keep her company.”

  Ryder drummed his fingers on the desktop. “And you let them go?”

  “I didn’t see any harm in it,” Lester retorted, his voice rising.

  “Well, if I’d been home, you can be damn sure they wouldn’t have gone.”

  “Well, a fat lot of good that does us now,” Lester snapped.

  “I went over to the Johnson place to see if maybe they’d dropped Beth off at home, but Johnson said he hasn’t seen her since she left with me this morning.”

  Ryder swore under his breath. Every instinct he had told him that Jenny and the girls were in trouble, and that Rance Crenshaw was behind it.

  “Don’t you think you’re worrying overmuch?” Lester asked. “Maybe they just decided to stay for dinner. Maybe they’re still talking. You know how women are. You put four of them together in the same room, and they can gab all day.”

  Ryder shook his head. “Something’s wrong, I know it.”

  Chase nodded in agreement. “Beth is in danger.”

  Lester glanced from one man to the other. He could feel the tension rising within them. A muscle worked in Fallon’s jaw; Chase stared out the window, his shoulders taut, his hands clenched. And suddenly Les was tense, too. If Beth was in danger, so was Dorinda.

  Abruptly, Ryder crossed the floor and took a rifle from the gun rack over the fireplace. He tossed it to Chase, then took another for himself.

  Ryder checked to make sure the Winchester was loaded. “Harbaugh, you go on out to the ranch and wait for us there.”

  Lester ran a hand through his hair. He felt like he should offer to go along, but he knew his inexperience in such matters would be more of a hindrance than a help. “All right.”

  “Dusty, you stay here in case they show up.”

  “If you’re not back by midnight, I’m coming after you.”

  “You do that. Ready, Chase?”

  Chase nodded. “Let us go.”

  Dusty stared after them, then grinned ruefully. If Crenshaw was mixed up in this, he’d sure as hell hate to be in the man’s shoes when Ryder got hold of him.

  * * * * *

  It was full dark when Ryder and Chase reached the Crenshaw place. A single light burned inside the house.

  Ryder counted six horses in the corral. The matched grays wore the Fallon brand. Jenny’s carriage was parked alongside the house.

  Ryder swore under his breath. At least he knew she was here. He brushed his hand against the knife sheathed on his belt. Crenshaw would die a long, slow death if any harm had come to Jenny or Dorinda.

  He slid a glance at Chase. “You go around the back. I’ll take the front.”

  Chase nodded.

  One minute he was there, the next he was gone. Ryder shook his head in awe. Chase moved through the darkness like a wisp of smoke, making no sound, leaving no tracks.

  He held his ground, giving Chase enough time to get to the back door, then, holding to the shadows, he made his way to the front of the house. Peering through the window, he saw Jenny. She was sitting in a chair, her hands tied behind her back, her feet lashed to the chair’s legs. A gag covered her mouth. She seemed to be sleeping. How she could sleep trussed up like that was beyond him, he mused, and then grinned ruefully as he recalled the nights he’d spent tied to a log in the Apache camp years ago. When the body was tired enough, it slept.

  Shifting slightly, he saw Dorinda and Elizabeth, both similarly bound.

  There was no sign of Crenshaw, or his wife and kids.

  Ryder frowned. Drawing away from the window, he tried the latch on the front door. Locked.

  He peered in the window again, swore softly as he saw Crenshaw enter the room. Where was Berland? In the kitchen? Asleep in one of the back rooms?

  He swore as a shrill cry broke the stillness of the night. There was a crash from the rear of the house, a harsh cry, the sound of a gunshot.

  Ryder cocked his own pistol as the front door flew open and Joby Berland came barreling out, his gun at the ready.

  “Hold it!” Ryder ordered.

  Berland came to an abrupt halt and immediately raised his arms over his head. “Don’t shoot!”

  “Drop your gun.”

  Joby quickly did as bidden. Ryder kicked the Colt out of reach, then handcuffed Berland’s hands. “Where’s Crenshaw?”

  “I’m in here, Fallon. Turn Joby loose, then give him your gun.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “I’ll kill the women.”

  “Don’t be a fool.”

  “The Injun’s dead.” Crenshaw laughed bitterly. “I got nothing to lose.”

  In the stillness that followed, he heard the muffled sounds of weeping, and knew Jenny was crying for Chase.

  Damn.

  He took a deep breath. “Turn the women loose.”

  “Not until I see you in here with your hands up.”

  “I want your word, Crenshaw.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Muttering an oath, Ryder unlocked the cuffs from Berland’s wrists, then handed Joby his Colt.

  Berland aimed the gun at Ryder, using both hands to get the weapon steady.

  “Where’re Martha and the boys?” Ryder asked.

  “In the back bedroom. I think she’s afraid to come out.”

  “You’ll never get away with this,” Ryder said, his voice pitched low so only Berland could hear. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “I got no choice. Dammit, don’t you understand? He’ll kill me if I cross him again.”

  Ryder nodded; then, hands raised over his head, he walked into the house.

  Crenshaw stood behind Jenny, the gun in his hand leveled at the back of her head. Tears tracked the faces of all three women. Chase lay on the floor near the kitchen doorway. Blood welled from a wound in his left temple, pooled beneath his head to make a bright-red stain on the hardwood floor.

  “I’m here,” Ryder said. “Turn the women loose.”

  “Do it, Rance,” Berland urged. “We gotta get out of here now.”

  “No. Not until I get the money from Johnson.”

  “Is that what this is all about?” Ryder asked. “Money?”

  “I got nothing left, Fallon,” Crenshaw exclaimed. “The bank’s takin’ my land. My wife, my kids, they got no place to go.”

  “I’ve got money,” Ryder said. He kept his voice calm, refused to acknowledge the anger raging through him. “How much do you need?”

  Crenshaw snorted. “You must be crazy if you think I’d trust you.”

  “What other choice do you have?”

  “He’s right,” Joby said. “Let him get the money. He won’t try nothing while we got his womenfolk.”

  Crenshaw shook his head, his eyes wild and unfocused. He needed sleep. He needed time to think. The scent of the Injun’s blood filled his nostrils, reminding him of another night, the night he’d killed Greenway. He hadn’t meant to shoot Ned. They were friends. But he’d been afraid of getting caught. He shook his head. Sleep. He needed sleep…

  The gun in his hand felt heavy, so heavy.

  “Rance, what are we gonna do?”

  “I’m thinkin’! Dammit, Joby, I’ve got to think. Handcuff the ’breed. I’m gonna get some coffee.”

  “Put your hands behind your back, Fallon,” Joby ordered, though his voice lacked authority. “Do
n’t try nothing.”

  “Listen to me, Berland,” Ryder said, keeping his voice low. “I need your help.”

  “No.” Joby wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “No, I can’t.”

  “I’ll testify for you in court. I’ll tell them you helped me. They’ll go easy on you, I swear it.”

  Joby shook his head. “I can’t. Don’t ask me…”

  “What’s he askin’, Jobe?” Crenshaw stepped into the parlor, his gun in one hand, a coffee cup in the other.

  “Nothing, nothing.”

  “Do I have to cuff him myself?”

  “No, I’ll do it.”

  From the corner of his eye, Ryder saw a movement behind Crenshaw. It was now or never.

  Whirling around, he lunged at Berland, driving him backward. They crashed to the floor. Berland lost his hold on the gun and it skittered across the floor.

  One well-placed punch rendered Joby unconscious. Breathing hard, Ryder scrambled to his feet in time to see Crenshaw pitch forward, a knife buried to the hilt in his back.

  “Chase! Dammit!” Running forward, Ryder caught the younger man around the shoulders before he collapsed. Gently, he eased him to the floor. Taking the gag from Jenny’s mouth, he pressed it over the gash in Chase’s head to staunch the blood.

  “Is he all right? Ryder! He isn’t…”

  “He’s not dead, Jenny girl.” Taking the gag from Dorinda’s mouth, he used it to hold the other piece of cloth in place.

  Moving quickly, he untied Jenny and the two girls. Leaving them to look after Chase, Ryder checked on Crenshaw. The man was stone cold-dead. Berland was still unconscious. After handcuffing Joby’s hands behind his back, Ryder went to stand by Jenny, who was kneeling beside Chase. Beth knelt on the other side of Chase, his head cradled in her lap. Her face was wet with tears.

  “How’s he doing?” Ryder asked.

  “I think he’ll be all right,” Jenny said.

  Taking Jenny by the arm, Ryder lifted her to her feet. “Let Beth look after him.”

  “But…”

  Ryder shook his head. “I’ve got to go tell Martha about Rance. She’ll need a woman with her.”

  Jenny nodded. “You’re right, of course.” She looked at Chase, as if to reassure herself that he was truly all right, and then she followed Ryder down the narrow hallway.

  Martha Crenshaw was sitting on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped around her sons. From the look on her face, Ryder knew there was no need for him to say anything.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jenny said. “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Haven’t you done enough?” Martha asked. She stared at Ryder, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with hatred. “Get out of my house.”

  Jenny took a step forward. “Martha, it’s not Ryder’s fault.”

  “Why couldn’t he just leave us alone?”

  “Martha, please, listen to me.”

  “Let it go, Jenny,” Ryder said quietly.

  “But…”

  “I’m gonna take Chase home. Harbaugh’s there, waiting for Beth.”

  “All right, I’m coming.” She waited until Ryder left the room. “Martha, I know how upset you must be, but you can’t blame Ryder for what happened. Rance would still be alive if he’d just let us go.”

  The anger drained out of Martha Crenshaw’s eyes. With a sob, she drew her children closer and began to cry. Seeing their mother’s tears, the boys began to cry, too.

  “Martha, do you want me to stay the night?”

  Martha shook her head. “No, I just want to be alone with my boys.”

  Jenny didn’t argue. When she got home, she’d send someone after Doc Forbes. Maybe he could give Martha something to calm her down and help her sleep.

  Ryder was waiting for her in the parlor. “I put the body in the back of Crenshaw’s buckboard. I’ll drop Joby off at the jail, take Chase to the doc’s, then leave Crenshaw’s body at Rickman’s. You take the girls and go home. Les is waiting there. Tell him to tell the Johnsons that his horse went lame and they had to walk home, and that’s why Beth’s so late.”

  Jenny nodded. “After Doc looks after Chase, send him out to Martha.”

  “Yeah, I will. You ready to go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he hurt you, Jenny girl?”

  “No.” Jenny sighed as Ryder put his arm around her shoulders and led her outside. “Poor Martha. I feel so bad for her.”

  “I’ll make sure she’s got enough money to get a fresh start somewhere else.”

  Jenny nodded, suddenly too weary to think.

  Ryder helped Jenny into the carriage, then tied Chase’s horse and his own to the back of the buckboard.

  “You gonna be all right, Jenny girl?”

  “I’ll be fine. You just hurry home.”

  “I will. Come on, Beth, get in the carriage.”

  “I’m going with Chase.”

  “There’s no room in the buckboard.”

  “Tell Mr. Berland to ride in the back with…with the body.”

  “Let her go with him, Ryder,” Jenny said.

  “All right. Listen, Jenny, tell Harbaugh I’ll see that Beth’s gets home. Joby, climb on into the back.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Get in the back.”

  Muttering under his breath, Joby climbed into the back of the buckboard, sitting as far away from Crenshaw’s blanket-wrapped body as he could get.

  Ryder lifted Beth onto the seat, then walked around the wagon and climbed up on the seat. Taking up the reins, he glanced at Chase, who was leaning against Beth, his eyes closed. Chase clucked to the horse. Hell of a night, he mused as he followed Jenny down the road. Hell of night.

  Chapter Thirty

  It took eight stitches to close up the wound in Chase’s head.

  Beth sat on the operating table beside him, his hand clutched in hers, flinching every time the thin silver needle pierced his flesh. Ryder had tried to make her wait in the other room. The doc had tried. Chase had tried. But she wasn’t leaving. By the time the doctor tied off the last stitch, her face was as white as the sheet that covered the table.

  “He ought to stay here overnight,” Forbes said. He wrapped several layers of gauze around Chase’s head, snipped off the end.

  Chase looked at Ryder. “No.”

  “You heard him, Doc.”

  “Suit yourself. See if you can’t make him stay in bed, at least until day after tomorrow. Head wounds always bleed profusely, and he’s lost a lot of blood.” Doc shook his head as he taped the gauze in place. “I seem to spend a lot of time patching up your family, Ryder.”

  “Somebody’s got to keep you in business. And speaking of business, Jenny wants you to go out to the Crenshaw place and look after Martha. She’s in a bad way.”

  “I’ll take care of her. In the meantime, try to stay out of trouble, you two.”

  “Right, Doc,” Ryder said, reaching for his hat. “Thanks.”

  “You’ll get my bill.”

  “Glad I’m still around to pay it,” Ryder retorted with a grin.

  Chase stood up, wincing a little as the movement sent a flash of pain through his skull. He took one look at Beth, and slipped his arm around her shoulders, thinking she looked worse than he felt.

  Ryder lifted Beth into the buckboard, helped Chase up beside her, then drove to the Johnson house. She gave Chase a quick kiss on the cheek, then ran up the flower-lined path to the front porch. She turned and waved, then went inside. They had all agreed not to mention what had happened at the Crenshaw house. Instead, Beth was going to tell her parents that the carriage horse went lame and she and Lester had had to walk back to town, and that was why she was so late getting home.

  “That was a close call,” Ryder remarked as he turned the buckboard toward home.

  Chase grunted softly. “Too close.” He slanted Ryder a wry grin. “I did not receive this many wounds when I fought against the bluecoats.”

  Ryder chuckle
d softly. “Civilization is a dangerous thing.” He frowned thoughtfully. “This wedding could prove dangerous, too, if Lester’s plan backfires.”

  Chase nodded ruefully. He did not like trickery or deceit. Had it been up to him, he would have taken Beth away from Twin Rivers, but she had urged him to give Lester’s plan a try. If all went well, they wouldn’t have to leave. He could stay in town and get to know his family better; she would not be estranged from her parents.

  “Well,” Ryder mused, “it should be interesting.”

  “Yes,” Chase agreed. “Interesting.”

  * * * * *

  Lester’s daughters arrived the following afternoon. Beth accompanied him to the depot to pick them up, stood back while three pretty little girls with their father’s blond hair and brown eyes flew into his arms, smothering him with hugs and kisses, all talking at once, until he began the introductions.

  Kathy and Alice smiled shyly at Beth. Polly’s expression was sullen and defiant.

  Lester kept up a steady stream of conversation on the way back to the house, telling the girls of the land he’d bought, promising the two youngest girls ponies of their own. Beth pointed out the schoolhouse as they passed by, assuring them that they’d love their new teachers. She pointed out the church, and the ice cream parlor, and said she’d introduce them to some girls their age so they’d feel more at home. And all the while, Polly sat with her arms folded across her chest, her expression belligerent, her gaze focused straight ahead.

  By the time they reached the house, Alice and Kathy were laughing and talking with Beth as if they’d been friends forever. Polly remained sulky and silent, refusing to be drawn into their conversation.

  Lester glanced at Beth and shrugged. She smiled at him in return, secretly glad that it would be up to Dorinda to win Polly’s affection.

  For Beth, it was a long day. Her father insisted they spend the rest of the day at home. Theda insisted on serving an enormous lunch. After that, she showed the girls to their rooms, then took them on a tour of the house. Later, Lester and Beth took the girls outside so they could look at the horses and take a walk through the gardens.

  Alice and Kathy were thrilled with the horses, the dogs, the cats. Polly sat on a bench and refused to budge.