by Paty Jager
Zeke shot to his feet, grabbed his knife from Barton, and crossed the room. Peering out the window, he spotted their guard. The man looked asleep the way he leaned on the butt of his rifle. Without consulting Barton, he eased out the door and behind the sentry.
He wrapped an arm around the man’s throat, kicked the rifle aside, and shoved the tip of his knife into the man’s side.
“Where did Cutter take my wife?” he growled, giving the knife a twist to let his hostage feel the sharp point.
“Don’t know.” The man spat.
“Like hell you don’t.” He tightened his hold on the man’s neck and pushed more with the knife.
“You…kill… me…you’ll…never…find…out.” His voice was barely audible as he gasped for air.
“That’s true,” Barton said, grasping the man’s thumbs, forcing Zeke to move, and jerking the outlaw’s arms behind him. The man cried out in pain. Zeke grinned and took note of how quickly and easily the smaller man apprehended the larger one.
“But, we don’t have to kill you to get the answers we want.” Barton continued to hold the man’s thumbs as he maneuvered the man back into the shack. With just a small move on Barton’s part the man cried out again.
“How’d you do that?” Zeke asked, hoping to learn something new.
“You just bend his thumb,” the man cried out again, “like that.” Barton demonstrated the hold and stepped to the side. “Care to try? Though do be careful, if it’s done wrong you can break the bones.”
The outlaw looked at him standing a head taller than Barton and shook his head. “He took her to Monument.”
Barton muttered an oath.
“You know why?” He shoved the pathetic outlaw into the chair and turned to Barton.
“Yeah. And why they’ve had me tied up here.” Barton started pacing. “I should’ve known Smalley couldn’t be trusted.”
“I thought you two were friends? That’s what he insinuated.” Zeke shoved a sock he found under the cot into the outlaw’s mouth and tied the man’s hands behind his back.
“Not friends. But associates. I’ve believed for a while now he was working both sides. Now I know for sure.” Barton ran a hand through his gray hair.
“Were you and Loman associates?” He still didn’t know what to think about the man in front of him and the man Maeve so desperately wanted to learn about.
“Yes. And friends.” Barton stopped. “Does Marsh know about Miss Loman?”
Fear stuck in Zeke’s throat. He swallowed and nodded his head. “Smalley and Cutter made sure he knew.”
Barton paced again. “I don’t think they’ll do anything to her until they finish what they’ve set out to do.” He looked around the shack. “Let’s see what we can find to eat, and I’ll fill you in on what I think is happening.”
****
A hard body held her, but it wasn’t as large as Zeke. Maeve opened her eyes and stared into a face that sent shivers down her spine.
“Well, Sleeping Beauty, I see you decided to wake up in time to help us.” Cutter’s sarcastic voice snapped her spine straight. She used her head to shove away from his chest, since her hands were still bound behind her, and backed into a horse.
The animal sidestepped, and she struggled to remain standing. The men around her laughed. She scanned the group, wincing at her aching shoulders and throbbing wrists. Where was she? And how did she come to be standing when the last thing she remembered was riding a horse?
She’d fallen asleep on the horse. How did she manage to stay on? She shivered at the memory of Cutter holding her so intimately. Surely, she would’ve woke up if he’d pulled her onto his horse. She glanced at the horse behind her. It was the last one she’d been riding. Confusion muddled her thinking.
Why were they stopped? She pivoted and spotted the reason. A wide river blocked their path. At least Cutter had the decency to wake her before dragging her horse through the river.
She studied her shadow. It was still morning. She squinted and peered across the water. A well-worn path, possibly a road appeared on the other side.
“Where are we?” she asked. Cutter turned from Smalley who’d just joined them.
“We are on the road to riches.” He grasped her about the waist, hoisting her onto the horse.
Maeve glared down at him. She wanted to kick him in the teeth, but knew she wouldn’t live to do it again, and the man would go back and shoot Zeke. Taking out her frustration wasn’t worth Zeke dying.
****
Even though Barton didn’t expect anyone to return during the night, Zeke couldn’t sleep. Maeve was on her way to Monument with a killer.
“She’ll be fine. She’s a smart woman,” Barton said from the bed where he’d moments before been snoring.
“She also has a temper. One she has trouble keeping a handle on.” He smiled thinking of all the times she’d unleashed it on him.
“Sounds like her father’s Irish came through.” Barton chuckled.
“You never did tell me exactly how you knew Loman.” He’d been waiting all night for the man to divulge what he knew.
“We worked together before he came up missing.”
“Maeve said Cutter told her he figured Marsh killed him.” Zeke walked to the stove and poured another cup of coffee.
“Yeah, before I had a chance to explain everything to the Sheriff, Marsh busted Brendan out of jail and disappeared.” Barton tugged on his mustache. “I tried to find them, but Brendan was the tracker, not me.”
“Explain what?” He watched the man. His face appeared older in the gray light of dawn. His eyes held regret.
“That Brendan was working for the Pinkerton’s and had killed Samuel Marsh to prevent an assassination of a railroad tycoon who had stopped over in The Dalles at the time.”
Zeke spit his coffee across the table. “He was what?”
“A Pinkerton agent assigned to the West. I was his contact for assignments.”
“Why didn’t he tell his wife what he did?” He pulled his chair closer to the bed and leaned forward, his arms on his knees.
“Brendan infiltrated the Molly Maguires in Pennsylvania. His involvement brought the lot of them down. He had to get out of the East or die. So he loaded up his wife and daughter and came out here. He tried to lead a normal life, but the excitement of bringing in someone breaking the law was something he couldn’t leave behind.”
“He told his wife he was prospecting for gold. Maeve believes his greed kept him from them and was eventually his death.” Zeke stared at the man. She’d thwarted his advances because of a lie. One her father fabricated to keep his family safe.
“Mrs. Loman had a tendency to not be able to keep a confidence. She nearly got Brendan, and I believe your relative, killed during the war.”
He stared at the man. “What do you mean my relative?”
“I would imagine he was a cousin, because there is a very strong family resemblance.” Barton stood and stretched.
“That would explain it!” Zeke grinned. He knew his father hadn’t been in the war. “We showed Mrs. Loman a tintype of my parents because Maeve insisted my father was her uncle from what her father had told her.” He couldn’t stop grinning he was so relieved. “Mrs. Loman said they weren’t related, but insisted that my father had been in the war with Loman.” He frowned. “It must have been my uncle’s oldest son. After the war, they never heard from him again.”
Barton put a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t help you there. I came west before that was all settled.” He moved to the stove and poured a cup of coffee.
“Why did Loman join with Marsh and Cutter?”
“We were paid to guard Henry Villard, a railroad magnate, when he was in our area. We had people in all the saloons and found out Samuel Marsh was the person paid to kill Villard. Brendan learned all he could about the group and made his way into the gang to keep an eye on Samuel.” Barton sat at the table. “The night Brendan shot Samuel, the young man walked straight towar
d Villard in a gambling establishment with his gun drawn.” The remorse in Barton’s eyes said it all. “I hurried to the jail as soon as I heard, but Jack had already busted Brendan out.”
“Did Jack know Loman was a spy?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Barton took a sip from his cup.
Zeke stared at the man. He feared not only for Maeve being the daughter of the man who killed Samuel, but if they knew he was a spy—how would they treat her?
Chapter 17
Maeve stood in the middle of the bank lobby. The scene around her resembled any other time she’d entered a bank. Except for the gun barrel jabbed in her back. Cutter had untied her hands. She rubbed at her raw wrists and scanned the room for a way to not get shot, but hinder the robbery.
“Hand over the bridge payroll and no one gets hurt,” Cutter shouted, causing the bank tellers to scurry. She felt the gun leave her back at the same moment she recognized Zeke’s sister-in-law. The woman stood not five feet from her, protectively clutching her protruding stomach.
Their eyes met, and Darcy sank to the floor. Maeve hurried to her. “They have Zeke outside of Boyd. Marsh Ranch,” she whispered before being yanked away.
“Git over here. Don’t be cozying up to no one.” Cutter shoved the gun in her side again and pulled her to the door. “Grab them bags, boys,” he called and motioned with his head for the others to leave the building.
When the last man exited, Cutter gripped her arm and made a show of shoving the gun tighter against her side. She watched the frightened faces of the people in the bank as Cutter’s menacing voice boomed, “If anyone follows, I’ll shoot this woman and them.” Her heart sank at the cowardly way the people backed up. All but Darcy. Her gaze never flinched, nor did she back away. Before Cutter yanked her out the door, Darcy gave her a brief nod.
Instead of letting her mount her own horse, he threw her on his horse and jumped up behind. The whole lot of them raced down the street. She looked back as Gil ran into the bank. If he followed, she hoped he found Zeke before the man clutching her killed him.
They rode at a lope for a couple of miles before stopping. Cutter dismounted and pulled her down off his winded horse.
“Git on your horse,” he ordered and turned to the others. “You three head east, you three head north, and we’ll meet you back at Jack’s in two days.”
The men nodded and started off in their given directions. That left her alone with Marsh and Cutter. The glares she received from Marsh made her want to hide behind Cutter, even though he wasn’t any better.
Maeve thought about kicking the horse and heading back to town, but knew she’d be shot in the back and the man would head straight for Zeke and kill him before anyone could stop him.
“Since you done such a fine job at the bank, I’ll tie your hands in front, though I’m gonna miss lookin’ back and seeing these breasts of yours poked out and beggin’ to be touched.” She flinched as Cutter fondled the breast closest to him. He laughed and pulled her hands together, tying them a bit looser than before.
“I think we should just shoot her,” Marsh said, urging his horse up next to hers.
“We aren’t free yet. If we’re followed, we need her for a shield. Besides,” Cutter winked at her, “she’s come’n around to likin’ me. I can tell.”
Bile rose in her throat as the man ran his hand down her leg before he mounted his horse.
Cutter set out at a trot, dragging her horse behind him. Marsh brought up the rear. She could feel his hatred drilling into her back. They kept up the pace after crossing the river. The route was different. Was it longer of shorter than the one they took on the way to the robbery?
She hoped shorter. The thought of spending time with the two men evoked scenarios that all ended with both she and Zeke dead. Cutter wouldn’t outright kill her. He’d torture her and use her body before he pulled the trigger. She’d figured him out, but Marsh—he seethed with hatred. Hatred aimed at her. He could blow up at any minute, and Cutter wouldn’t be able to stop him. Maeve shuddered. She wished for Zeke’s strong arms around her one more time.
****
Zeke stalked back and forth in the sparse cluster of cottonwood trees where he, Barton, and the outlaw waited for the return of the gang. He didn’t want to spend another night worrying about Maeve, if she was alive, if Cutter raped her. The thought pounded in his head. Clenching his fists at his side, he thought of all the things he should have done to keep her safe.
“I doubt they’ll return until tomorrow.” Barton sat on a rock whittling on a stick.
“How can you sit there so patient, knowing they used you to get their hands on the bridge payroll?” Zeke stopped in front of the man.
Barton stopped whittling, turning his gaze on Zeke. “I can’t foresee the future. If I could, my inklings about Smalley would have told me he wasn’t to be trusted. I can’t think about what if’s only construct ways to right the wrongs that have been done.”
He motioned to the path Zeke’s pacing had created. “Besides worrying and stomping about like a wounded bear isn’t going to get them here any earlier. Or conserve my energy for when they do arrive.” Barton pointed to a stump. “Sit. Or better yet, roll out a blanket and rest. I know you didn’t sleep at all last night.” Sympathy softened Barton’s eyes. “She’ll be fine. She loves you and will do whatever Cutter asks to see no harm comes to you.”
“She loves me?” He sat down. Did she really? “How the hell can you say that? You’ve only met her the one time.”
“I could see it in her eyes when she looks at you.” Barton took to whittling. “I may be old and alone, but I know when a woman is in love. And was fool enough to turn my back.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’d hate for that to happen to you.”
Zeke laughed. “If she’s in love with me, how come she keeps turning me down when I ask her to marry me?”
“That’s something the two of you will have to figure out.”
“I know it’s because of her mother filling her full of lies and her damn independent nature.” He shot to his feet. “And I’m afraid that’s going to get her killed before I can ask her to marry me, again.”
****
Maeve was relieved, yet apprehensive when Cutter stopped the horses near a slow-running stream in the middle of a small willow-filled oasis. She wearily dismounted and stood next to the animal, giving her shaking legs a chance to register she wasn’t sitting astride any longer. She’d sat horseback for the last twenty four hours with only the brief respite when they robbed the bank. Her legs wobbled like a newborn colt.
She sank to the ground, her tied hands resting in her lap. The coolness of the shaded area and the soft pallet of grass beneath her, beckoned. She straightened her legs out in front of her and slowly lowered her body to the cool ground. Closing her eyes, she extended her hands above her head and stretched. The pulling of muscles warmed her aching limbs, torso, and backside.
“Spread them legs and you’ll be right where I want ya.” Cutter’s coarse comment sliced through her tranquility.
She sat up and glared at the man. “Touch me in that way and if I don’t kill you, Zeke will.” The harshness of her voice surprised her as much as it did the man standing over her. His eyes opened wide a moment, then slanted in a narrowed glare.
“Don’t you go threatening me. I’m the one with the power. You’re the one with her hands tied and mooning over a man who should have died trying to save you rather than cower to my demands.”
So that was it. He thought Zeke a coward. She couldn’t hold the laugh. Zeke was braver than this man who hid behind his gun. He thought he could win her over by ordering her around? As if that made him more of a man.
“What are you laughing at?” He grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet.
She saw the gleam in Marsh’s eyes. He was ready for Cutter to shoot her.
“I don’t cower to anyone’s demands. Not yours and not my husband’s.” She knew this man respected defiance. To him that was br
avery. To her, at this moment, it could be the difference between seeing Zeke again and ending up with a bullet hole and dying right here.
A crooked smile played on the man’s lips. “That’s what I liked about you the first time we met. You’ve got spit.” He ran a finger down her cheek. Her skin crawled. Her first reaction was to pull back, but that was what he expected.
She forced a smile and shook her head. “You can’t touch me this way until I see my husband set free.” She squelched the nausea rising at the look of desire that flamed in his eyes.
“You’d stay with me? And all I gotta do is set your husband loose?”
“Yes.” Her knees nearly buckled at the deal she made with the vile man salivating as his gaze devoured her.
He didn’t take his eyes off her as he motioned to Marsh. “You hear what she just said?” Cutter asked the other man.
“Yeah. I say she’s playin’ ya. Let’s just shoot her and get back to divvy up the money.” Marsh pointed his gun at her.
Cutter turned to the man. “I say she ain’t.” He pushed the gun aside. “If you shoot her before I find out, I’ll ferget we’re friends.” The sinister undertone made her skin crawl.
Marsh shot her another one of his killer glares and stalked over to his horse. Cutter turned back to her. “How’s about we test this deal.” He stepped toward her. She didn’t know what to do. But had no intention of giving herself to this man or even kissing him for that matter. Relief ebbed through her icy veins when he untied her hands.
“If you stay put while we sleep, I’ll know you’re not foolin’ with me. If you take off—I’ll let Jack hunt you down.” The last sentence was said with no remorse. She was just a conquest should she stay. He could care less if she were dead or alive come morning. But if this worked, Zeke would be alive.
Chapter 18
Three riders rode down the opposite side of the canyon, but Maeve wasn’t one of them. Zeke stalked back and forth. “What do you think they’re going to do when they realize we’re missing?” He turned to Barton, who sat nonchalantly whittling away. He didn’t think the man even rolled up in his blanket to sleep. When Zeke dozed off and woke during the night the man sat there methodically whittling.
