Deep Trouble

by Mary Connealy

  No rider was skilled enough to see tracks on rocky ground in the black of night. Not even the moonlight would be enough. He hoped hard they’d have the whole night to put distance between themselves and danger. And though this was a clear trail, it forked off in several spots, and those outlaws would have to be pure lucky to pick the right one to follow.

  As they rode, Gabe had plenty of time to wonder what Shannon was keeping from him. Plenty of time to imagine the worst.

  “They’re gone!” Lurene nearly dropped her Colt revolver when she thrust it in her pocket. The coat she wore had pockets big enough, but she wasn’t used to guns. She’d made her ill-gotten gains in a much less violent way back in St. Louis.

  But she’d enjoyed pulling the trigger as Cutter had told her to do. Just point like the gun was a finger and fire. She was looking forward to doing it again. And right now she was mad enough. She wouldn’t have minded if the Dysart woman had been right in her line of fire.

  “They heard us coming.”

  Lurene looked at Ginger, who was jerking on the reins of her poor horse even now. “You’re too rough with that animal. You made too much noise. It warned them, and they got away.” She kicked a glowing chunk of wood still in the fire and watched it bounce off the red rock wall and explode red cinders into the air.

  “Watch out.” Cutter gave her a deadly glare before he stepped into the space between the fire and the wall.

  Lurene felt a shiver of fear and pleasure when Cutter turned those threatening eyes on her. She thought about pulling him aside and asking him point blank if he’d like to thin out their gang. There was no need for five of them to trail after Shannon Dysart and whoever had rescued her. Two, she and Cutter, would be plenty.

  Cutter had needed a respectable woman when he’d gotten the job to guide Shannon. He’d come to her, told her he’d always thought she’d clean up good. Hating the life and how it was getting harder every year to compete with the new girls, she’d let him lure her with his talk of gold until she could almost taste the rich food and fine wines that a woman could buy with a city full of the yellow wealth. He’d arranged for her to have the right letters of recommendation. Then he’d assembled the rest of the crew, and they’d hired on for a trip into the Wild West.

  She’d always figured this trip came down to her and Cutter. Cutter had the skills from time he’d spent in the West. She had the brains. She fully intended to thin the herd when it came time to split the gold, but she was enough afraid of Cutter to hesitate. Until they’d made their play and left Shannon in that cave, she’d never seen any signs of much intelligence in the rest of the crew. But now Randy had her worried. She and Cutter ought to get rid of them and soon.

  The icicle-hard heart she felt beating in her chest told her that getting them out of the way was the surest route to her never having to endure the groping hands of a strange man again. She could put up with it for Cutter, because she needed his fast gun and the strength of his back, but no one else. Her jaw firmed as she swore in her soul that she’d find a way never to go back to that life.

  Cutter crouched and studied the ground. “They haven’t been gone long. They definitely spread out their bedrolls here.”

  “Let’s get after ‘em.” Ginger yanked on her horse’s reins as she tried to mount up, and the horse whickered in protest and turned in a circle, trying to follow where he was led. Ginger’s hair caught the glow of the scattered fire, and it reflected red on her crooked teeth until they nearly looked like fangs dripping with blood.

  Lurene thought Ginger looked like someone who’d been loosed by the devil himself.

  “Stand still, you stupid brute.” Ginger smacked her horse, and it fought her, tossing its head, making the bridle jingle.

  “Which way?” Cutter rose to his full height and looked across the dying fire at Ginger. He spoke loud enough to get her to stop fighting with her horse.

  “I dunno.” Ginger looked left and right. “You tell me. That’s your part of this job, tracking.”

  “Well, I dunno either.” Emphasizing the word, Cutter clearly called Ginger stupid. A quick flash of a mocking smile told Lurene that Randy got it, too. She didn’t even bother to look at Darrel.

  “How can you not know?” Ginger clearly missed the insult.

  “It’s night, that’s how. There are ten directions they could have gone, most of ‘em over rock. I expect I can pick up their trail in the daylight, but there’s no way to see a rock barely scraped by a horseshoe in the pitch dark.”

  The scowl on Ginger’s face seemed to call Cutter stupid. Lurene wished Cutter would shut the fool’s mouth permanently.

  Instead, he shook his head. “Let’s not sleep in here. Smart spot to camp, out of the wind. It was picked by a man who knows his way around out here. Same kinda man who might come sneaking back and unload his gun into our hides.”

  “We shoulda gone in and questioned those folks at the waterhole.” Darrel went to his horse and swung up. “Them Navajos.”

  “Navajos aren’t much for talking.” Cutter shook his head.

  “Well, we coulda made ‘em tell us who she was with.” Darrel formed a fist as if he had a throat crushed in his hand. “They’d’ve told us everything before I was done.”

  “No sense having a bunch of folks see us, maybe be able to tell a marshal about it. Shannon Dysart is a woman lots of people will ask about if she never comes back to St. Louis. No one thinks much of a person going missing in the West, but no sense having our faces known to people in case someone comes looking.”

  Darrel growled in the dark, as if he were a wolf on the hunt. “Then we shoulda asked our questions, gotten our answers, and then shut those folks up for good. There weren’t that many of ‘em.”

  “They’re Navajo. A peace-loving people mostly, unless they get pushed too hard,” Cutter said. “I’ve been in this country before, and the folks that live here won’t put up with much pushing. Even if we killed ‘em all, and that wouldn’t be as easy as you make it sound, they’ve got friends. We might bring a whole tribe of tough fighters down on our heads. Better to skirt around their hogans and not let ‘em see we’re anywhere in the country. They wouldn’t’ve told us more’n we learned from riding wide of the spring and reading sign.”

  Lurene mounted. “Where do we camp, Lobo?”

  Cutter swung into the saddle and set out without responding. Lurene followed because she didn’t have much choice. And because of all of them, Cutter was the one who had the best sense in the wilderness.

  Missing Shannon Dysart tonight stung. It felt like defeat, as if she were eating desert dust instead of being served on plates of gold.

  Lurene wasn’t settling for dirt when she could have that precious yellow metal in her hands. She didn’t care who she had to kill.

  Twelve

  In the gray light of dawn, Gabe looked back just in time to see Shannon’s head nod forward. She slid sideways in her sleep, and he moved quickly to catch her before she fell to the ground.

  She woke up when he dragged her onto his lap. Blinking her pretty brown eyes, she gave him a smile so sweet Gabe did his best to forget Bucky. Did a fair job of it, too, which no doubt meant he was a complete idiot.

  A realization that honestly came as no surprise. Not after two whole days of acquaintance with Shannon Dysart.

  No, he’d figured out his own stupidity a few hours into this mess. That’d been about the time he’d finally gotten her down from that cave and she’d thrown herself into his arms and he’d felt that warm, grateful handful of woman and thought about how much his ma always wanted him married.

  “How’d I get into your arms?” Shannon’s voice was husky with sleep. Her cheeks were pink, partly from too much sun, but Gabe saw the memory of the affection they’d shared in her eyes.

  He decided he liked himself better when he was stupid. He lightly touched that intriguing dimple in her chin, barely realizing he’d done it. He already had habits when it came to touching Shannon that were probab
ly bad. “You fell asleep and I caught you. I’m sorry we’ve had to push so hard all night. But we had to get away from those folks. And we can’t stop riding now and rest up. Now, tell me what made you so jumpy last night?”

  “You mean besides a group of gunmen shooting at our camp?”

  “Yep, I mean besides that. You know what I mean.”

  “I do. I think I know who it was.” Shannon ran one finger across his moustache. “Those people who attacked us, Gabe—they must be the ones who left me stranded.”

  “Why would they come after you? They wanted your map. They got it.”

  “They didn’t get it. I told you that.”

  “Yes, but they think they got it.” Gabe shook his head. “No, there are plenty of outlaws in this country. No reason to believe that bunch was the same one that attacked you.”

  “There were five of them.” Her hand slid down and clamped on his shirt front.

  Glancing at her tight grip, Gabe wondered how terrified she really was. She’d held up okay through the long night. “We saw five, but we don’t know for sure how many there were.”

  “There’s another reason it might be them.”

  “Those folks rode off and left you for dead. They got what they wanted, and they’d have no reason to think you’re wandering around. And even if you were, you’ve got nothing they want.”

  “Well, I suppose what happened is they went back.” Shannon’s grip tightened, and Gabe had to decide soon just how badly he needed to breathe.

  “To save you?” Gabe doubted it very much. “You think they had a change of heart and decided to rescue you; then they got mad when you weren’t there and decided they wanted you dead after all?”

  Gabe noticed Doba, riding in front of Parson Ford and trailing the Tsosis and Ahway from the rear, trailing Emmy and Marcus, riding closer, listening to every word. What exactly had brought the warning from the Kinlichee settlement? There’d been no time to talk as they rode.

  “No, I think they must have figured it out somehow. Lurene, the one who was the friendliest to me, she must have seen that what I gave them wasn’t all I had.”

  Grinding his teeth together, Gabe asked, “Did she know enough about your map to figure it out this fast?”

  “All things considered—since they attacked our camp last night…” There was an extended silence. “I’d say yes.”

  Gabe scowled. “I’d say definitely yes.” Gabe would have objected to being strangled if he didn’t have more important things to worry about.

  “I suppose she watched more closely than I realized.” Shannon lifted her chin to look Gabe in the eye. Then she brought her other hand to his shirt and shook him. “I never left the maps lying around, and I was very careful about hiding them. No one saw that I have a hidden pocket.”

  “You do?” Gabe’s eyes skimmed her body. “Where?”

  “Sewn inside my skirt.”

  Gabe’s skin heated up a little when he thought about her producing that map from such a personal hiding place.

  “She definitely talked with me about the maps. Once she got on the trail, she must have tried to follow it and realized I’d kept back a few important pages.”

  “A few important pages.” Gabe scrubbed his hand over his face. “So you’re saying those cutthroats who left you to die slowly in the wilderness are now on our trail.”

  Shannon shrugged. “Who else?”

  “And they think”—Gabe rested one hand over both of hers and did his best to open up some breathing space—”we have the only map to a city built out of gold.”

  “Gold?” Doba sneered.

  Gabe knew people like the Navajo, who eked out a living in this hard land, considered a quest for gold foolishness. Gabe tended to agree with them.

  Parson Ford fought with his unruly horse and tried to guide it back to join the talk. It balked, but it was clearly tired and eventually came toward them.

  “We do have the only map.”

  Groaning, Gabe scrubbed his face as if he could wash Shannon and her map right out of his life. He knew good and well it wasn’t that easy. “So while we ride farther and farther from a town with a lawman and folks who’d back us against outlaws, those people, who picked up our trail mighty fast, which means at least one of ‘em is a first-rate tracker, are coming to take that map.”

  “Yes.”

  Gabe shifted so he could grab Shannon’s wrists and jerk them off his neck. And it wasn’t because he wanted to breathe. It was because he wanted to shake some sense into her. “And they are willing to take it by force at the point of a gun.”

  Shannon didn’t seem to notice she’d been strangling him, and she didn’t seem to care he’d made her stop. She clearly had bigger worries. “It would seem so.”

  “The same ones who left you to die slowly, trapped in a cave a hundred feet off the ground.”

  Nodding, Shannon didn’t even bother to pretend he was wrong.

  “Which makes them the worst kind of yellow-bellied, murderous varmints.”

  Shannon looked up from where she’d been staring straight at the second button on his shirt. “We need to go faster.”

  “I agree. We need to give up on the gold and head for the nearest town as quick as we can.”

  “We need to follow the trail I’ve mapped out.” She looked over her shoulder at Doba. “What direction have we been riding through the night?”

  “My people live that way.” Hozho pointed to the southwest.

  “And they’re the ones I need to visit. They’re part of my mission field.” Parson Ford’s mustang tossed its head and kicked, bouncing the poor pastor around until Doba caught the horse and calmed it.

  Gabe jerked her around to keep her attention on him until he could force her to admit this was pure stupidity. “Salt Lake City is a few days’ hard ride to the north, but that’s okay. It’s on my way home.” Gabe smiled, but there was no humor in it. “I’ll get you on a train back to beloved-though-forgotten Bucky and go on home myself. I can go visit my brother some other time. I’ve had enough wandering.”

  “Doba, can you tell us how to get to the Grand Canyon?” Shannon looked away again.

  “Once we’re in Utah,” Gabe went on, “we can—”

  “We’ve been riding,” Doba answered Shannon over Gabe’s words, “toward the canyon all night.”

  “In Salt Lake,” Gabe continued, “we’ll report those outlaws.”

  “Put her down. It’s not proper for you to be holding her in your arms in such a way.” Parson Ford was a lot more willing to ignore the proprieties when he was trying not to get bucked off his horse.

  Shannon sat upright in Gabe’s lap. “We’ve been going the right direction? That’s wonderful.”

  “It’s terrible, because straight west, where you want to go, is a dead end.” Gabe didn’t need Shannon to listen. They were doing things his way whether she paid attention or not. “That’s why I went along with this direction for the last few hours, to lose those polecats following us. They’ll never suspect we went west. Why would they? There’s nothing there but a canyon that’s completely impassible. So, we’ll head north now for Utah and find a U.S. marshal and report this.”

  “And I and my family will hide off the trail until we’re sure the outlaws have chosen a different route and then go home.” Doba was talking to Shannon, no doubt explaining things to her.

  Good, saved Gabe the time.

  The rest of them were on horseback while they squabbled, pretty much in a circle by now, with Gabe holding Shannon in the middle of it.

  Hozho dismounted and caught the reins from Gabe, then pulled Shannon’s pinto around. “Get back on your horse.”

  Gabe would like to go to Salt Lake as directly as possible, but it was a rugged land. “So, which is the best trail, Doba?”

  “Yes, how do we get there most quickly?” Shannon asked.

  Doba pointed in the direction they’d just come. “My home is the closest safety, directly east of here.”


  “We’re going west,” Shannon insisted.

  “I mean the trail north,” Gabe spoke at the same time.

  “Put her down right now.” Hozho jabbed Gabe in the leg with a finger as pointy as an Indian warrior’s tomahawk.

  All four of them fell silent. Gabe glared at Shannon, who got a look of stubbornness in her eyes that Gabe was already starting to recognize.

  Emmy suddenly appeared out of the dusk. Gabe realized the young woman hadn’t ridden up when Ahway did.

  “I set a false trail.” Emmy looked smug. “The outlaws are heading south miles back.”

  “You left Emmy behind to lay a trail?” Gabe shook his head. All this talk of what was proper and they’d as good as abandoned a young girl to a gang of cutthroats.

  “Emmy is the best.” Marcus slapped his sister on the back.

  “Better than any of us.” Ahway smiled as if his friend’s skills were a source of great pride.

  Doba nodded. “Good. We go home now.” He wheeled his horse to the east toward home.

  “We’re going north, Doba.” Gabe turned to the youngsters. “Thank you for warning us. You saved our lives.”

  “Bad men think they are sneaky.” Ahway said with a smug smile. “We smelled them, heard them, and saw them. We watched as they circled our home. They are as sneaky as a stampeding herd of buffalo.”

  Smiling, Gabe said again, “Thank you.”

  “Doba, I have to go west.” Shannon’s eyes glinted with pure stubbornness.

  “We know the way west,” Hosteen said.

  “You get on your own horse, Miss Dysart,” Parson Ford growled.

  Gabe’s smile faded fast as he looked in Hosteen’s calm eyes. Shannon was going north whether she wanted to or not.

  But Gabe could see that the Tsosis really did know a way down into that canyon. Shannon’s map might not show it, but Hosteen knew the way. Gabe was very sorry to hear that.

  Shannon gave Hosteen a very bright smile, considering the man and his wife nearly had Shannon-the-Sinner cast out in the wilderness yesterday. “Thank you for your help.”

  “We’re not going into that canyon.” Gabe plunked Shannon back onto her horse then caught her reins.