Fool.
Bloody idiot.
But no matter what names Elyssa called herself, the embers of a very sweet fire smoldered beneath her anger. Hunter might have hurt her when he took her maidenhead, but he had also brought her a shocking pleasure up to that point.
If marriage was so bad, do you think women would put up with it?
Hunter’s question had both mocked and lured Elyssa, telling her that there was more to sex than what she had just experienced.
Last night she had been too angry to respond to Hunter’s confidence with anything but greater fury. Now the echoes of his sensual confidence went through her, unsettling her.
You’ll want it, too. I’ll see to it.
Elyssa shivered as Hunter’s words rang through her mind, through her body.
“I said, ‘Morning, Miss Elyssa. You must be feeling better.’”
Elyssa blinked and focused on Gimp.
“Hunter said you were feeling poorly,” Gimp explained, “and wouldn’t be riding today.”
Bright spots of color burned on Elyssa’s cheeks. She was indeed a bit tender in unexpected places. Realizing that Hunter knew she would be was embarrassing.
And infuriating.
“Hunter is wrong,” Elyssa said crisply. “But then, he’s wrong about me a lot. I’ll be riding Leopard.”
“Uh…”
“What is it?”
“Hunter doesn’t want you riding alone.”
“Hunter can go to hell.”
Leaving a shocked Gimp in her wake, Elyssa went to Leopard’s stall. A few minutes later she rode the stallion out of the barn and right over the paddock fence.
“They’re working the north marsh,” Gimp called after her.
Elyssa waved.
“Watch out for Injuns! Morgan said he saw some!”
She waved again.
Leopard’s long legs stretched into a lope that ate distance quickly. After a while Elyssa’s thighs quit protesting and settled into the familiar rhythms of riding.
The land flew by in the tawny shades of autumn. The windswept sky and brilliant sunlight had a soothing effect on her spirits.
All too soon Elyssa found herself at the edge of the marsh, no longer alone. Two armed men cantered briskly toward her, cutting off her advance.
“This is Ladder S land,” Reed called out curtly. “We don’t take to strangers.”
“No, we certainly don’t,” Elyssa said evenly as the men rode up. “Good morning, Blackie, Reed.”
Reed stared, half-swallowed a profane remark, and uncocked his shotgun.
Blackie did the same.
“It’s you, Miss Sutton,” Reed said. “I, uh, I didn’t recognize you underneath all that, uh…gear.”
“Didn’t you recognize Leopard?” she asked tartly.
“No, ma’am. Some of the Culpepper raiders ride spotted ponies.”
“Have you found any cattle?” Elyssa asked Reed.
“A few head. Breeding stock, mostly.”
Elyssa grimaced. “Well, better that than nothing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” both men mumbled.
They kept sneaking sideways glances at Elyssa, as though assuring themselves that the sweet, husky female voice was actually coming from the mound of men’s clothing atop Leopard.
“Where do you need another rider most?” Elyssa asked.
“Uh, well, uh…” Reed said.
Elyssa waited. She suspected what would be coming next.
“I better ask Hunter,” Reed said.
“Hunter,” Blackie confirmed, relief clear in his voice.
Might as well get it over with, Elyssa told herself bracingly. The longer I wait to face him, the harder it will be.
“Get him,” she ordered in crisp tones. “Until then, I’ll be working along some of the marsh trails I know.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Blackie said.
He reined around and put his heels into his wiry little pony. With frank envy Reed watched his partner leave.
“Go with him,” Elyssa said. “You’ll only be in my way. The trails I know are quite narrow.”
“But Hunter said you weren’t ever supposed to be alone,” Reed objected.
“Hunter isn’t the owner of the Ladder S. I am. Do keep it in mind.”
“Uh.” Reed swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”
Unhappily he reined his tough little pony around and headed after Blackie.
Elyssa turned Leopard north and trotted along the edge of the marsh. As she rode, she searched for signs that cattle had been entering and leaving the tall reeds.
Although there weren’t many trails into the marsh, the cattle knew each one. The marsh was a cool place to retreat when the summer sun became too hot, and a moist place long after the grasslands had cured to hay beneath the autumn sun.
The sky overhead was hung with a few bright clouds and alive with wind. All around Elyssa was the rustle, sway, and gentle whisper of tall grass and taller reeds. From hidden places came the call of horned larks startled by Leopard’s big hooves.
As always, riding out beneath the vast, radiant sky brought peace to Elyssa. Slowly the pain of the previous night ebbed, allowing her to take a deep breath for the first time since she had walked into Hunter’s bedroom.
Don’t think about Hunter, Elyssa told herself. Think about cows. They’re your future.
Hunter isn’t.
Leopard’s ears swiveled this way and that, checking out each sound. His flaring nostrils drew in air as he sampled the wind for scents. The knotted reins lay loosely against his mane. Whatever guidance he needed was provided by his rider’s knees as often as the reins.
At all times Elyssa was aware of the stallion’s response to the land. She knew that the horse’s senses were much keener than hers. If anyone or anything was in the marsh, Leopard would notice it long before she did.
Just as Elyssa spotted what looked like freshly broken reeds, Leopard stopped and whipped his head around, looking in the opposite direction. Ears pricked, head high, the stallion stared off toward the mountains.
Wind carried the sound of shots and shouting to Elyssa. Shading her eyes, she stood in the stirrups and looked toward the Ruby Mountains.
After a moment Elyssa made out the shape of someone running on foot down a long swell of land toward the marsh, about half a mile from her. A few more moments told Elyssa that it was an Indian girl who was running so. She carried what looked like a bundle of clothing in her arms.
Well behind the running figure, four riders trotted along after the girl. They were whooping and hollering like drunken men at a turkey shoot. Obviously they weren’t worried about catching the girl before she reached whatever safety might lie ahead in the marsh.
Elyssa stiffened and narrowed her eyes, hoping against hope that she was mistaken.
She wasn’t. Two of the men were riding big sorrel mules.
Culpeppers, Elyssa thought with dread, yanking out her carbine. That poor girl doesn’t have a chance. They’re just playing with her, enjoying her fear.
Elyssa fired three quick shots in the air to warn the Ladder S riders who were working the margins of the marsh. Then she jammed the carbine back in the saddle scabbard and slammed her heels into Leopard’s sleek hide.
The stud went from a standing start to a gallop in a few furious strides. Elyssa bent low over his neck and urged him to an even faster pace, heedless of the dangerous, uneven ground whipping by beneath his hooves.
Elyssa could tell the instant she was spotted. One of the riders yelled and whipped his mule, sending it out in front of the others. The remaining men pulled their rifles and began firing at the fleeing Indian girl.
The shots rang out in a ragged volley. At the same instant, Elyssa realized that the girl wasn’t carrying a bundle of clothes after all.
It was a baby.
Elyssa kicked Leopard again and shouted for more speed. The big horse stretched out and ran like thunder over the wild land.
Wind clawed at
Elyssa with invisible talons. The force of it yanked off her hat. Her braids tore free of their pins. In moments the braids were unraveled. Her hair streamed out like a flaxen flag, whipping in the wind behind her.
Elyssa clung to Leopard’s neck, riding with all her skill. She never took her eyes from the narrowing gap between the Indian girl and Leopard.
And the Culpeppers.
Lord, but those mules are fast! Elyssa thought in dismay.
She had only instants to decide whether to cut the Culpeppers off from the girl and pray that the Ladder S men would arrive before the Culpeppers grabbed her.
Or Elyssa could grab the girl and race headlong into the cover of the marsh.
The Indian girl finally heard the pounding of Leopard’s hooves over the harshness of her own breathing. She veered away from the big stallion.
“No!” Elyssa screamed. “Friend! I’m a friend!”
Either the girl believed that safety lay with the flaxen-haired stranger, or she was simply too tired to run a longer path to the marsh. The Indian girl veered back, bent her head, and clung to the bundle of clothing that swaddled the baby. Her bare feet flew over the earth.
Elyssa was close enough now to recognize a Culpepper as the closest man. Gaylord Culpepper wasn’t far behind. They were gaining at a terrifying pace.
And the first Culpepper was aiming his rifle at the fleeing girl.
Elyssa didn’t know she had drawn and fired her carbine until it kicked against her shoulder. She kept levering in rounds, firing as fast as she could while Leopard thundered closer and closer to the hard-running riders.
Abruptly the Culpepper shouted, threw up his hands, and fell beneath the hooves of his mule. Gaylord barely pulled his own mule around before he trampled his kin underfoot.
Relief and sickness roiled equally within Elyssa. She ignored both.
As she drew alongside the running girl, Elyssa jammed the carbine back into its sheath. Still running, the Indian girl held out her baby in mute plea that it be saved even though it was too late for her own life to be spared.
The remaining men would be on them in moments.
Elyssa grabbed the baby and cradled it against her side with her left arm. Simultaneously she kicked free of her right stirrup and held out her right hand to the straining girl.
“Come on!” Elyssa shouted. “Take my hand! You can’t outrun them!”
The gesture meant more than any words. The Indian girl sprang like a cat at the stirrup.
Somehow Elyssa managed to hang on to the girl long enough for her to gain a foothold in the stirrup. She crouched with one foot in the stirrup and clung to the saddle horn with both hands.
Elyssa turned Leopard and sent him toward the marsh at a dead run.
Shots peppered the ground around them. It was only a matter of time until the raiders brought down the fleeing stallion.
With one arm Elyssa supported the Indian girl as she clung precariously to the saddle. Elyssa’s other arm cradled the bundle of rags protectively against her body, shielding the helpless baby from bullets in the only way she could.
“Hang on!” Elyssa said fiercely. “No matter what, hang on!”
If the Indian girl understood, she said nothing. Her eyes were dazed, exhausted. Her face was livid with bruises.
Leopard thundered toward the marsh without slowing down, no matter how rough the going. A quick glance back told Elyssa that Gaylord Culpepper was no more than three hundred feet away. He was riding easy in the saddle, taking his time as he sighted down the barrel of his rifle.
From the corner of her eye Elyssa saw Ladder S riders burst from the marsh almost a mile away. Bugle Boy was in the lead, running as though fleeing hell, narrowing the distance between Hunter and the raiders with gigantic strides.
Hunter’s rifle was in his hands. He rode like a centaur, firing as he came.
The range was too great for accuracy from the back of a racing horse. Elyssa knew it, just as she knew it was all Hunter could do until he got closer.
And by then, Gaylord would have picked off the two women with the ease of a man shooting fish in a barrel.
A shot came from the marsh just ahead and to the right of Elyssa. A split second later, a shot from behind her whipped by so close that she saw dust leap from the ground just to the left of Leopard’s flying hooves.
Suddenly Leopard was into the marsh’s tawny embrace. Catlike, the stud hurtled down a narrow, mudcaked trail. Elyssa dragged the horse to a jolting stop just as the other girl’s strength gave out. The girl fell to the ground in a tattered heap of clothing.
The sounds of firing erupted behind Elyssa in ragged volleys. Leopard stood calmly, breathing hard. Elyssa kicked free of the stirrups and slid off, holding the baby in one arm and her carbine in the other.
The Indian girl made a ragged noise and held out her hands. Elyssa bent and handed the baby to its mother. Then a noise from deeper in the marsh made Elyssa spin around, carbine leveled and ready to fire.
The Indian girl made a sharp sound and tried to rise, but her strength was gone.
“Easy, Sassy,” said a voice from the reeds. “It’s Case.”
Elyssa felt as though the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She made a hoarse sound of relief and pointed the carbine barrel at the sky.
Case emerged from the marsh carrying a rifle.
The Indian girl seemed to recognize him. Slowly she relaxed and began crooning softly to the baby, who had not made one sound during all the flight. A small fist emerged from the rags. Tiny fingers patted at the girl’s face. The smile she gave her baby was as radiant as the sky.
“Are you hurt?” Case asked Elyssa.
Elyssa’s mouth was far too dry to attempt speech. She simply shook her head.
“Wait here,” Case said. “I’ll give the call of a horned lark when I return. You hear anything else, get ready to shoot.”
She nodded.
Case gave her an intent, searching look.
“Hang on, Sassy. I won’t be long.”
Numbly Elyssa nodded again.
Sporadic shots sounded from beyond the marsh. Hooves made a distant drumroll that faded into the rustling of the dry, wind-fretted reeds.
It seemed like a hour, but really was only minutes, before the call of a horned lark came softly through the reeds.
“All clear,” Case said. “They’re running away like the coyotes they are.”
Elyssa made a low sound as relief swept through her. On its heels came nausea and weakness. She swayed, shaking.
What’s wrong with me? I wasn’t the one running for miles over the land like this poor girl.
The answer came to Elyssa as she saw again the instant when the Culpepper threw up his hands and fell beneath the hooves of his racing mule.
Grimly Elyssa swallowed and then swallowed again, trying to quell the rebellion of her stomach.
As soon as Case emerged from the reeds again, Elyssa turned to the Indian girl. When she bent down to check on the baby, a wave of nausea hit her. Blindly she went to her knees and crawled away from the girl and the baby.
Spasm after spasm of sickness convulsed Elyssa. She retched until she was too weak to hold up her head. Vaguely she realized she didn’t have to. Someone was doing it for her.
Strong arms lifted Elyssa, turned her, cradled her. Gentle hands wiped her face with a cool, damp bandanna. She lay against a man’s chest and shuddered.
“Hunter?” she whispered hoarsely.
“Not yet,” Case said. “He’ll be along real quick, though.”
“No,” she said, struggling to sit up.
Case caged Elyssa against his chest with equal parts strength and gentleness.
“Easy, little one,” Case said. “Rinse your mouth out with this. You’ll feel better.”
“The girl—” Elyssa began.
“I checked her. She didn’t catch a bullet. Neither did the baby. She’s nursing him right now. Or trying to. Poor thing had a hard time of it with those Cu
lpeppers.”
With a shuddering sigh, Elyssa took a sip of water.
The sound of men approaching made her push weakly at Case’s arms.
“Let me up, please,” she pleaded.
“You’re still shaking. Give your nerves time to settle.”
“No!” Elyssa said hoarsely. “I don’t want him to know what a weakling and coward I am.”
“Coward?”
Case looked at Elyssa in disbelief. Ignoring her small struggles, he resumed washing her face as though she was a child. The gentleness of his touch was at odds with the bleakness of his pale green eyes.
“You’re neither weak nor a coward,” Case said calmly. “A lot of men break and run at their first taste of gunfire and death.”
Elyssa made a muffled sound.
“I know,” Case said. “You don’t like remembering that you might have killed a man, even though that Culpepper needed killing as much as any man ever born.”
The cool, damp bandanna smoothed over Elyssa’s forehead and eyes.
“But you did what had to be done,” Case said. “You stood your ground and saved lives at the risk of your own. No soldier could have been braver.”
Elyssa looked at Case’s eyes and understood all that he wasn’t saying.
“It happened to you, too, didn’t it?” she whispered. “The—the shooting and the sickness.”
“I got over it,” Case said matter-of-factly. “You will, too. You’re a strong woman, Sassy. A lot stronger than a man would guess from looking at you.”
Reeds crackled as something brushed them aside. With shocking speed a six-gun appeared in Case’s hand.
“It’s me,” said Hunter.
“Whistle next time or it could be your last.”
Hunter shoved aside the reeds and wondered what Case would say if he knew his brother’s mouth was too dry to whistle.
It had been like that since Hunter had seen a rifle pointing at Elyssa and known with terrible finality that there was nothing he could do to stop a bullet from reaching her.
“Thank you,” Hunter said in a low voice to Case. “I owe you. Again.”
“I wasn’t the one who saved her.”
“Who was?”
“I’ll let you know when I find out,” Case said dryly.
Hunter barely heard. He knelt next to Elyssa and pushed a cascade of silver-gold hair away from her face.
Autumn Lover Page 26
