Wanted

by Potter, Patricia;

  Morgan found the palomino after picking up Lori’s pistol from the ground where she’d dropped it. The horse was standing patiently, its reins tied to a tree. The welcoming neigh made it clear the animal was pleased to see someone approaching. The mare stamped nervously on the ground, stretching its long golden neck as if to look for its mistress.

  Morgan leaned down and untied the reins. He barely managed to sit back up in the saddle. How much longer could he go before he rested again? It had probably been foolish coming here, but he couldn’t leave a horse tied alone, not with the wild animals in the mountains and especially with a storm coming, nor could he allow Miss Lori to go after the horse. No telling what she would do, how she would try to finish what she had started. Or what surprise she had hidden in the saddlebags.

  He clenched his jaw, more against that thought than against the waves of pain that kept rolling through him. Why did the fact that she had shot him in ambush bother him so much? Why had it hurt so damn badly in ways other than physical? Braden was just another job. An outlaw like so many others he had brought in. Lorilee Braden was a complication, a problem to be dealt with, just as he would deal with anyone interfering with his duty.

  He was disturbed, he told himself, because of his lack of judgment, not because of the feeling that had come to life in places he thought dead. He had been played for a fool, and he was paying a fool’s price; the only thing to do now was learn from it. He obviously had not learned years ago when he’d been taken in by a woman’s tears. It was a mistake he wouldn’t make again. His fingers tightened around the mare’s reins as he turned his own horse and started back.

  Snow started to fall as he reached the campsite. He dismounted and tied the horses, knowing he couldn’t avoid Lori any longer. There were tasks he couldn’t manage by himself, and they had to be done before he succumbed to exhaustion and weakness.

  Wearily, he approached Braden and his sister, his fingers retrieving the key to the handcuffs. He tossed it to Lori, keeping a safe distance from them both. “Gather some wood,” he ordered abruptly as he unholstered his Colt and pointed it at Nick. “Remember, I’ll have the gun aimed at him every moment you’re gone. The slightest unexpected sound or movement, I’ll shoot”

  She unlocked the handcuff and started to move, but her brother’s hand held her back. “Go ahead and shoot. Get it over with, damn you,” Braden said, “and let Lori go.”

  “Heroics, Braden? They won’t work.”

  “No heroics, Davis,” Braden said, his voice flat. “I’ve never been one for heroics, not like you. Hunting men has never appealed to me, but I am practical. If we stay here, we’ll die. You’ll be the first. Right now that wouldn’t trouble me at all, but your death means ours. A long, slow painful death. I’d rather die here now and give Lori a chance.”

  “No!” Lori’s agonized denial pierced the frigid air.

  Morgan’s finger tightened on the trigger, but Braden’s gaze never faltered, never blinked. Merely invited. Dared. Willed. Part of Morgan wanted to shoot, to have this done and over. Slowly, he lowered the Colt to his side.

  Braden’s voice became persuasive. “I’ll do whatever you want. Give you my word, my oath. My parole. Whatever. Just get us to that cabin.”

  Morgan’s gaze left his and moved to Lori. She was holding her breath, her eyes full of fear, but he knew it wasn’t for herself. “And you, Lori,” he drawled, “would you do the same?”

  She nodded, her eyes searching his face for some sign of softening, some tempering of the white-hot anger she’d ignited. “Anything,” she whispered.

  “Anything?” His voice was rough with bitterness, with cruel mockery, with pain.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, her mouth trembling, and he felt a momentary sympathy; but it was gone almost as fast as it came. These two would kill him as soon as look at him. But he knew Braden was right he would be the first to die. He was too weak to fight the cold and exposure of a winter storm. And he knew he couldn’t leave these two to die after him.

  Still, he hated to give Braden even this kind of victory. The man would damn well pay for it, he pledged to himself. Morgan couldn’t remember when he’d felt this kind of vengeful anger, and he didn’t much like it in himself. But it was undeniably there, fierce and needing.

  “How far did you say the cabin was?”

  “Two miles or so. It belonged to a trapper who moved on last year after the beaver were trapped out. It’s solid, a roof and fireplace.

  Morgan hesitated, looking around. The flakes were thicker now, dusting the ground with white. The wind was blowing harder, filtering through his coat God, he needed rest He was fighting to keep on his feet from slumping against a tree and closing his eyes. He knew Braden was right. If he went to sleep now, he would probably never wake up.

  “Davis?”

  Morgan’s attention went back to Braden.

  “I’ve never broken my word.” He hesitated. “I’ve never begged before, either. At least let Lori go.”

  Morgan looked at him with contempt “So she can ambush me again? Or maybe she has more of that laudanum she bought in Laramie?”

  “What do you want from me?” Braden said in a pleading voice. “Dear God, I’ll do anything.”

  Morgan hesitated. He would never trust Nick Braden or his sister. But he had damn little choice. “All right,” he said. “Your word. Your word that neither you nor … your sister will make any attempt to escape.”

  Braden looked at Lori. She nodded.

  “I want to hear it” Morgan said.

  “I swear,” Lori said, her voice beginning to break.

  “Now you, Braden.”

  “I swear it,” Braden said. “Until the storm is over.”

  “Already making exceptions, Braden?”

  Braden’s jaw set.

  A wave of defeat washed over Morgan. These two were willing to die for each other, and just as willing to kill him. He never felt so damn alone in his life. He tried to shake that feeling of desolation, and his eyes raked over them as he finally spoke. “I wonder how much your word is worth.” His voice revealed how little he trusted them. “You and I already have a debt between us,” he warned, turning to Lori.

  She swallowed hard. “I … I’m really … sorry. But you won’t believe that either, will you?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said flatly. “I believe you’re sorry. Sorry that you missed anything vital.”

  The snow was coming faster now. Still free of the handcuffs, Lori was sitting, waiting for his decision.

  “Get the bedrolls together,” he said abruptly.

  She didn’t say anything but quietly took Nick’s blankets, rolled them up, then looked back to Morgan for additional instructions. “I assume you can saddle a horse,” Morgan said, and she nodded. “Then saddle your brother’s horse.”

  Lori made no comment but wrestled with the saddle, finally getting it over the big horse’s back. The second pair of handcuffs were still attached to the saddle horn. Morgan watched as she buckled the saddle under the big bay and moved away. He then directed his attention to Braden. “Put the cuff on your other wrist,” he ordered.

  Braden’s jaw worked. “I gave you my word.”

  “Oh, I accept it,” Morgan said wryly. “And I expect you to keep it. Still, I’d hate to see temptation get in your way. I don’t think ethics is the strong suit of your family.”

  Morgan followed Braden’s glance over to Lori. She’d heard the comment, and her face flushed. Braden fastened the cuff to his free wrist and threw the key to Morgan, who exchanged it for the key to the leg irons.

  “Unlock the one around the tree,” Morgan said. “The other stays on.”

  Braden did as he was told and stood, balancing on his good ankle. Lori was still waiting for his next directive. Christ, he had to get all three of them on horses now.

  He nodded his head toward Braden’s horse. “Lori, you mount first, and tighten that cuff around your right wrist Now, Braden, your turn. Mount behind her.
”

  The snow was coming fast Braden limped over to his bay, dragging the other end of the leg iron. He paused, set his jaw as he put his leg in the stirrup, and, clasping what he could of Lori’s slim waist, swung up behind her. Morgan watched every move like a hawk watching its prey. It was awkward as hell, both for Braden to get up and then for him to settle in the saddle with Lori in front There was no place for his handcuffed hands, even as she tried to inch up as much as possible to give him room.

  While both his charges were busy arranging themselves, Morgan slipped the keys to the handcuffs and leg irons into a tiny pocket sewn into the lining of his hat Then he picked up his hat and rifle and tied his bedroll to the end of the saddle. He paused a moment, fighting to stay conscious. He leaned his head against the horse, steadying himself. Then he untied Braden’s and Lori’s horses from a tree and fastened their reins to a lead rope.

  He mounted slowly, fighting to keep from falling. He looked over to Braden. “Which way is the cabin?”

  “Down this canyon,” Braden said. “About halfway through there’s a break in the rocks on the left. A rough path upward.”

  Snow was covering the ground now. Morgan couldn’t even see the sky. How in the hell was he going to find a path? But Braden was right, he knew that now. This was a different kind of snow from what he knew. He instinctively felt the danger in it.

  His wide-brimmed hat couldn’t keep the snow from his eyes as they rode. The wind penetrated his jacket, and his gloved hands felt brittle after just a few moments. He bent, partly against the wind, partly because he no longer had the strength to stay upright.

  Ice and fire. Like this morning. They licked at his insides, sapping what strength he had. It seemed like hours before he heard a shout behind him and looked up. A break in the rocks.

  He turned his horse, found the path, and clutched the saddle horn in desperate determination as the horse moved on, seeming to sense a destination ahead. He couldn’t see anything, just a wall of white, and he realized he was blinded by the snow.

  White. That was all he saw. And then black.

  And then there was nothing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Lori shivered as she watched the man riding in front slump over the neck of his horse. She was freezing, and she had her brother’s warmth against her. He had lifted his handcuffed hands over and around her, pulling her body against his, sharing body heat The Ranger had none of that.

  She couldn’t tear her gaze from the man, no matter how much she wanted to. She should be feeling a measure of triumph, she thought Instead she felt shame and a hollow grief she only partially understood. Her brother’s survival depended on another man’s destruction; she hadn’t expected the dilemma to be so personally agonizing.

  There was something inexpressibly poignant about a man trying to do the impossible. Especially this man. So stubborn, so unbending. She’d never met a man before who was so completely incorruptible. He didn’t give an inch, not to himself, not to others.

  She told herself it was because he looked so much like Nick that her heart had somehow become affected. But the deep, trusting family love she had for Nick was nothing like the kind of leapfrogging, heart-jabbing, conflicting emotions she couldn’t contain when she looked at the Ranger. They were feelings too new and strange and deep to puzzle out.

  The Ranger’s horse went slogging on through the snow, following the opening between trees despite the lack of guidance. She wondered how he managed to remain on the horse. But even as she wondered, his body started to lean, then fell to the ground, the horse stopping with him, its head dropping to its master’s body, nuzzling him in question.

  Lori felt the tug of Nick’s arms. They were leaving her, going up over her head again, his body warmth leaving her. She felt him slip from the saddle behind her. Half-frozen, she watched him limp to the Ranger’s side. She wanted to go to Morgan Davis, but she was locked to the saddle horn. She watched Nick check the Ranger’s pulse, then his pockets. He swore as he apparently came up empty and walked back to her.

  “He’s still alive,” he said with a grim expression. “I’d hate to think what it would take to kill him.”

  Lori swallowed. “What are we going to do?”

  “The cabin’s just above us. Problem is, I can’t carry him, not with these damn handcuffs, and I can’t find the key.” They both looked at Lori’s hand, still handcuffed to the saddle. She wouldn’t be of any help.

  “We can’t leave him here to die.”

  There was the smallest bit of hesitation on Nick’s part, and for a moment Lori felt sick that he might even consider the possibility. But his jaw worked as it did when he was concentrating.

  “No,” he finally said, “I just don’t know how we’re going to move him. I hope to hell those keys didn’t fall out of his pocket.” He straightened. “I can’t put him back on the horse, not with these irons. Goddammit”

  “How far is the cabin?”

  “A hundred yards or so. No more than that.”

  So close and yet so far. Every part of her was shaking with cold. The day that had been all white, was now gray, washed in a deepening darkness that proclaimed the onset of night. Had it been only one day since she had lain in ambush for the Ranger? It seemed a lifetime.

  Nick moved then, untying his bay’s reins from the Ranger’s lead and handing them to her. “Go on up,” he said. “The trail dead-ends at the cabin.”

  “I’ll wait for you,” she insisted.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t trust me with him?” There was a bite in the words. “I gave my word, Lori.”

  “I … I just don’t want to be alone,” she said. “And you might … need me. Encouragement at least” She tried a small smile as she looked down at her handcuffed wrist again.

  His expression softened. He turned around and went back. If only he could revive the Ranger for a few moments, get a little help from him. If not, he would have to rig a sling of some kind. He knelt next to the man who was so damned determined to see him hang. Despite his words to Lori, it would be so simple to leave him there to die. An easy choice, really: his life or the Ranger’s.

  Easy but for Lori, who would never forgive either him or herself.

  Easy but for his own rather tarnished honor. He knew the Ranger could have left them both to die.

  Nick looked longingly at the Colt in the Ranger’s holster. He had sworn he wouldn’t try to escape, not until after the storm. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to take the man’s gun. Wouldn’t saving his damned life be enough? He could save the moral dilemma for later.

  He slipped the gun out of the holster and into his belt, then tried to bring the Ranger back to consciousness. “Davis,” he said. “Damn you, Davis, wake up.”

  He slapped the Ranger’s face once, then again. “Davis!”

  Still nothing. He sat next to the man and did as he had done earlier—tried to will him back to consciousness. He felt a curious bond with the Ranger, perhaps because they so resembled each other, but he couldn’t help thinking it was more than that. He knew the Ranger, and how he thought, better than he’d known any other man, even on much longer acquaintance and surely in much better circumstances.

  When willing didn’t work, he used instinct to try another tack. “Davis,” he said in a low but penetrating voice. “That’s right, Davis. Just give up. Give up and die. I’ll go free. I’ll win, Davis, just like I knew I would, given time. Just like Lori knew.”

  Nick smiled grimly when he heard a low growl from deep inside the man next to him. His eyes slowly opened and blinked against the faint gray light; his body shuddered, a deep, heaving movement of immense effort. A gloved hand went to the holster instinctively and found it empty. The Ranger glared at him, and Nick knew he’d won. Morgan Davis would somehow find the strength to make it to the cabin. Nick held out his handcuffed hands. “What did you do with the keys?”

  Davis ignored the question and struggled to sit up.

  Nick shrugged. “I’ll find them. In th
e meantime, it’s going to be damn hard getting you to the cabin.”

  “You … gave your word.”

  “So I did,” Nick said. “I didn’t say a damn thing about saving your ornery life.” He held out his hands again. “Take them. See if you can stand. We’ve got to get inside before we all freeze to death.”

  Davis did so, his two hands clasping Nick’s as he struggled to his feet. The grip was surprisingly strong.

  “Lean on me,” Nick said. “The cabin is just yards away.” Leading the Ranger along, Nick took several steps, his blanket-wrapped bad foot nearly numb with cold, the leg irons dragging from his good foot and catching in brush. They made several steps before stumbling, Davis catching himself on Nick’s shoulder. Nick righted himself, turning angrily to the Ranger. “This would be a hell of a lot easier if you would give me those damn keys.”

  Davis shook his head, and Nick swore a long, colorful oath.

  They slowly made progress, each step more difficult with the deepening of the snow. Nick looked around and saw Lori following, guiding the horse with her free hand. Davis’s horse was following on his own. It seemed hours before he saw the outline of the cabin.

  As they reached the door, Nick pushed it open and felt Davis stumble again. As Nick braced himself, a hand went to his side in a movement so unexpected, it took him a moment to realize what had happened.

  Davis had his Colt back and had braced himself against the wall, leveling it straight at Nick. Nick permitted a wry smile. At least there was no longer a moral dilemma.

  “Lori?” Nick asked softly.

  “You can unbuckle the saddle. Help her in with it.”

  “You aren’t going to … keep her chained to it?”

  Davis ignored the question. He moved inside the cabin, hesitating until his eyes adjusted to the dim light Then he stumbled painfully to a cot along the wall and sat down. “You can also get some wood,” he said in a voice strained by effort.

  Nick’s jaw worked. He looked down to his bootless foot the ice forming on the blanket material that had been cut to cover it He’d been so intent on getting the Ranger inside that he’d ignored it. Now the pain was incredible. But he just nodded. He didn’t think complaints about pain would hold much weight at the moment.