She knew he must mean Gavin, but there was hardly any time to absorb what he had said. “You didn’t kill Sean,” she said. “Why?”
“’Cause I made the worst mistake of my life.”
But she knew it hadn’t been a mistake. In the end, he hadn’t been able to go through with it. He had killed before, as the outlaw Heath Renier, but he had changed. He had become a decent man named Holden Renshaw.
But the law would never let him escape, even if he was able to defend himself against Sean’s charges. He would remain a hunted criminal.
“You must run,” she said. “Gordie will be safe with your brother. I—”
His chin bumped against her head. “You met Gavin?”
“While I was looking for you. He was on his way to help you, but I sent him back to Dog Creek. I know what he is, Holden.”
The sun had been below the horizon for several minutes before Holden spoke again.
“You’ll never be safe from Sean unless he’s dead,” he said. “I aim to get another chance at him.”
“No! There must be another way.”
“There ain’t.”
“I don’t care what they say about you, or what you may say about yourself. You aren’t a murderer.”
He didn’t answer. She could feel him pulling away from her, growing more and more distant, detaching himself from anything he might ever have felt for her. It wasn’t only because he knew he was likely to be taken or killed. She knew he would never get over her shock and horror when he had revealed his other self. He assumed that she was suddenly willing to give Gordie up because of her fear that he would grow up to be like his father.
She could have tried to convince him that she had long since stopped feeling anything remotely like horror. If he had not been so set on his own death, she might have explained that she thought he was far more miracle than nightmare. If she had already told him that she loved him, he might even have believed her.
But she had waited too long. Her own fear of rejection, her own stubborn pride, had kept her silent, and now it was too late. Holden was more beast than man now, his mind awash with violence. Appealing to his reason, to his humanity, would be as futile as asking the desert to sprout apple trees and roses.
And yet, in spite of everything, she knew she had to try one more time.
“I’m not leaving you,” she said. “Gordie doesn’t need me now. I’m staying with you until you agree to go with your brother, wherever he wants to take you.”
He refused to answer and set Apache into a ground-eating lope. He kept going for several hours, effortlessly finding their path through the darkness, then made a simple camp in a shallow draw. Rachel was too exhausted to protest his command that she sleep. It was still dark when he woke her.
The first patina of dawn had silvered the sky when the landscape began to seem familiar again. Holden finally broke the silence.
“When we get to the house,” he said, “you just keep on pretendin’ that you’re my prisoner. We need to fool everyone, even Lucia and Maurice. You get a few things to take with you.” His voice grew rough. “I’m sendin’ you with Gavin as far as Heywood, and you ain’t got no say in the matter. He won’t hurt you.”
“I know he won’t. But I’m still not lea—”
In one motion he pulled the kerchief from around his neck and whipped it across her mouth, winding the reins around the saddle horn to free his hands so he could tie the cloth behind her head. The smell of him filled her nostrils. He ignored her muffled cry, took up the reins again and urged Apache into a run. They were near the place by the creek where Heath had first loved her, when he suddenly pulled Apache up and sniffed the air. His mouth hardened, and he kicked the horse into a gallop once more.
Even before they reached the house, Rachel smelled the unmistakable stench of scorched wood. Holden pulled out his gun and rested it on his thigh. As they neared the edge of the pasture, a fan of sunlight struck the blackened husk of the barn.
Holden slowed Apache to a walk, cursing under his breath. Rachel took advantage of his distraction to pull at the neckerchief, but he stopped her, pulled a knife and sliced off one of the reins. He tied it around her wrists, loosely enough that she was comfortable but not so loose that she could free her hands.
“Keep still,” he said.
They rode into the yard. There was no sign of Gavin. Maurice was standing a few yards from the barn, gazing at it as if it presented a problem he didn’t know how to solve. He started as he saw Heath and Rachel approach.
“Monsieur Renshaw!” he began. “Thank God—” He broke off in consternation, staring from Rachel’s face to the gun in Holden’s hand.
“What happened here, Maurice?” Holden asked softly.
“I…I do not understand.”
“You don’t have to. What happened?”
“There was a fire. We do not know…” He hesitated. “We do not know how it started.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“We saved the animals, but…” He trailed off again, searching Rachel’s eyes. “Monsieur, surely you do not mean—”
The things Rachel would have said to Maurice were far too complex to convey with her eyes alone. At least Maurice seemed more confused than alarmed. He knew Holden too well to believe him capable of harming Jedediah’s wife.
But he was afraid of something.
The door to the house opened, and Lucia, looking nearly as dazed as Maurice, came out. She stopped abruptly when she saw the tableau in the yard. With his knees and a shift of his weight, Holden turned Apache to face her.
“Where’s Gordie, Lucia?” he asked.
Lucia’s gaze darted to Maurice, then fixed on Rachel. “A man came,” she said, clasping her hands in distress. “He said he was your brother, señor. He gave only one name. Gavin. He said you had told him to take the child away for his safety. I could not stop him.”
She had begun to weep. Rachel twisted furiously in the saddle. Holden locked his arm around her waist.
“It’s all right, Lucia,” he said. “You done the right thing.” He looked back at Maurice. “Where’d they go?”
“I do not know,” the Frenchman said, his nervous demeanor giving way to defiance. “Let madame go, monsieur.”
Holden pointed the gun at Maurice’s head. “Where’d they go?”
“South.”
“Did anyone else come here?”
“Non.” Maurice straightened. “I do not know what is happening, monsieur, but I cannot let you take Mrs. McCarrick.”
Holden ignored him. “Where’s Charlie?”
“I do not know.”
“Are any of the horses hurt?”
“Non, but—”
“You want to help Mrs. McCarrick, you go saddle up Rip and Copperhead, and bring them out here right quick.” Holden shifted the gun so that it pointed at Rachel’s heart. “Get movin’.”
Swearing in voluble French, Maurice trotted toward the stable. Lucia continued to weep silently.
“Lucia,” Holden said in a gruff voice, “it’s all right. No one’s goin’ to get hurt so long as you do what I say.”
The Mexican woman was about to speak when Joey came pelting out of the house, his rifle in his hands. He skidded to a halt beside Lucia.
“Holden!” He grinned broadly and lowered the rifle. “I thought—” He noticed Rachel’s gag and stopped.
Holden tensed, and Rachel could feel his heart begin to beat more quickly. “What’re you doin’ here, Joey?” he asked.
“I came back. To warn you. Sean killed Jed. He plans to—” The rifle came back up. “What’s happenin’, Holden? Why’ve you got Rachel tied up?”
Breathless and panting, Maurice ran over with two horses on leads trotting behind him. He glanced at Joey, and Rachel wondered if some silent message was passing between them.
Please, God, Rachel prayed. Don’t let Joey shoot Holden. Don’t let anyone be hurt.
“Maurice,” Holden said, “put my saddlebags on Copp
erhead.”
The Frenchman obeyed. Keeping his gun trained on Rachel, Holden twisted in the saddle, lowered her to the ground with his free arm and dismounted behind her. He gestured for Maurice to help her mount one of the horses he’d brought from the stable.
“Please, monsieur,” Maurice said. “Let madame go.”
“When I’m good and ready.” Holden waited until Rachel was up and then mounted the other horse, sidling the animal close to Rachel’s, so that his knee touched hers. He stared at Joey.
The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively. “This ain’t you, Holden. It ain’t—”
“Do you still have the money?”
“No!” Joey bit hard on his lower lip. “Sean took it when he—you’ve…got to listen! He’s plannin’ to—”
“I know what he’s plannin’ to do, Joey. You’re the one who’s got to listen. Put that rifle down and come over here.”
Slowly Joey set the rifle on the ground and walked over to them, his thin shoulders sagging and his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“I don’t have nothin’ to give you right now,” Holden said, “but when I get some money, I’ll send it to you. Maurice, you take care of Joey, and see that Lucia gets home to her family soon as you can. Maybe you’ll have to find another job, but I’ll do what I can to make sure you don’t go broke.”
“But, Holden,” Joey burst out, “where are you going? Where are you taking Rachel?”
Holden reached out and laid his hand on Joey’s head. “Better you not know, boy. You just take care of yourself, and if anyone else comes, you tell ’em Heath Renier still has Mrs. McCarrick.”
“Heath Renier?”
“I need you to promise to take good care of Apache. He’s yours.”
“But—”
“Don’t try to follow me, hear?”
“Holden—”
But Holden wasn’t listening. He grabbed the lead rope of Rachel’s horse. She clasped the saddle horn with her bound hands and tried to look back at the others as Holden kicked his horse into a canter and hers followed suit.
There was nothing they could do. She was grateful that Joey was safe, and that no one had been hurt in the fire. And she was certain Joey, at least, didn’t believe Holden would hurt her. Would the boy make the mistake of following, though?
If Holden had any concerns about that, his face didn’t show it. It remained an expressionless mask, though for a short time, when he had spoken to Joey, she had seen that mask crack.
They rode south. Holden kept the horses at a steady canter, glancing often at the ground and pausing occasionally to sniff the air. Rachel wondered when Gavin had taken Gordie and how far ahead he had gotten. Were they safe? She prayed again, for Holden and his brother and Gordie.
Only two hours after they had left the house, Holden pulled up, lifted his head and took several deep breaths.
“Gavin and Gordie are up ahead, right over that hill,” he said. “But someone else is with ’em. You got to stay quiet a little longer.”
Rachel tried to protest, but he paid no attention. He urged the horses ahead at a cautious walk. They crested the hill, and Rachel could see two men by a jumble of rocks, one standing and the other sitting in the shade. The standing man was pointing a gun at the sitting one, who held a blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms.
Gordie.
Chapter Twenty
RACHEL KICKED HER horse, thinking only of getting to Gordie, but Holden kept a tight hold on the animal’s lead. He drew his gun and kept going, guiding his mount with his knees.
The stranger was watching as they approached.
“Hold it right there,” he said.
“Who are you?” Holden demanded.
“He’s Jacob Constantine, a bounty hunter,” Gavin said in a heavy voice, making no attempt to stand. “He was watching the house from downwind. I’m sorry, Holden.”
“You might as well call him by his real name,” Constantine said. “I’ve been looking for you a long time, Heath Renier.”
Holden showed no reaction. “Is the baby all right?” he asked Gavin.
“Yes,” Gavin said. “Hungry, but unhurt.”
Rachel leaned forward as if she could reach Gordie merely by willing it, but Constantine moved to stand in the way. There was something familiar about him, something that linked him to Holden and Gavin. His hair was a medium brown, but his eyes had that same touch of wolfish gold.
My God, Rachel thought. He’s one of them.
“Let the lady go, Renier,” Constantine said calmly, “and we’ll talk.”
“You let my brother go first,” Holden countered.
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”
“You’d hurt a baby?”
“Would you?”
Holden hesitated and slowly holstered his gun.
Constantine released his breath.
“Your brother did a brave thing, leading me away when I almost had you,” he said. “I’ll let him and the baby go—if you release the lady and give yourself up.”
Rachel struggled to speak. Holden untied the kerchief, and she spat it out of her mouth.
“It’s not what you think!” she cried. “His name is Holden Renshaw. He’s trying to save me from a man named Sean McCarrick, who murdered my fiancé, Jedediah McCarrick.”
Constantine met her gaze and shook his head. “I’ve met this Sean McCarrick. I can well believe he murdered somebody. But that’s not why I’m here. This man is Heath Renier, wanted in three states and two territories, and he means you no good.”
“I shall be the judge of that!” She tried to kick her horse forward, but Holden wouldn’t let go of the lead. “That man you are holding is trying to keep Mr. Renshaw’s son safe. You have no right to hold him.”
“I have every right, ma’am,” Constantine said. “Seeing as how he obstructed justice by interfering with a lawful arrest.”
“How can it be lawful, when you don’t even want to know the truth?”
“She’s got nothin’ to do with what you want, Constantine,” Holden said. “But there’s a murderer tryin’ to make it look like she knew who I was all along, when she didn’t. She has to get to safety with the baby.”
“I can arrange that, Renier,” Constantine said. “You’ve got a choice. Give yourself up, and I’ll let your brother take the lady and the baby as far away as he wants to. Otherwise he comes with me, and the lady can take her chances.”
Rachel didn’t have to look at Holden to know how much he hated Constantine. But there was nothing she could say. He had to give himself up. Gordie had to come first, and she had no doubt that Sean would hurt him if he got the chance.
Her heart was crumbling, and she knew it could never be whole again.
Holden looked at her. He tried to conceal his feelings, but they shone in his eyes, everything she had once wanted from him and a hundred times more.
“You go on with Gavin, Rachel,” he said hoarsely. “He’ll take you and Gordie to my family. They’ll help you, whatever you decide to do.”
With a lack of grace she had never seen in him before, Holden dismounted. He held one hand high and carefully drew his gun with the other, tossing it on the ground several feet away.
“Holden,” she whispered.
He didn’t look back. “You can let Gavin and the baby go now,” he said to Constantine.
With a jerk of his gun, Constantine waved Gavin to his feet. “Take that baby over to the lady and untie her hands. If you give me any trouble, I’ll shoot your brother.”
Gavin nodded, his expression as grim as the bounty hunter’s, and walked slowly toward Rachel. He paused only an instant as he passed Holden, and they exchanged glances. Then Gavin continued until he was standing beside Rachel’s horse. He carefully hung the baby’s sling from the saddle horn, reached up to untie her hands and passed Gordie into her arms. He secured the sling around her neck with trembling hands.
Rachel uncovered Gordie’s face. It was wrinkled with displeasure
, and he looked on the verge of crying, but he was obviously unhurt. She held him close and rocked him, praying she would not begin to weep herself.
“Come on, Renier,” Constantine said.
Holden took a step toward the hunter just as the report of a gunshot shattered the silence. Constantine ran toward Holden and pushed the muzzle of his gun into Holden’s chest.
“This better not be trouble of your making, Renier, or I’ll—”
He broke off as a horse and rider barreled over the hill.
“Sean,” Holden said. He reached for his empty holster. Constantine spun him around and held him by the throat. Rachel grabbed her horse’s reins and urged him to the opposite side of the rocky cairn.
Gavin turned to face Sean.
“Someone else is coming,” he said.
“Joey,” Holden said. He moved with his usual astonishing speed, wrenching himself out of Constantine’s hold and jumping away.
“You can shoot me, Constantine,” he said, “but if you don’t stop McCarrick before he hurts someone else, I will.”
Constantine, his face no longer calm, pointed his gun first at Heath and then at Sean, who had stopped his horse at the bottom of the hill. “Make a move and you’re dead,” he growled to Heath. “You get down off that horse, Mr. McCarrick.”
Sean didn’t move. He was smiling like a madman.
“Thank God!” he said. “You’ve caught him!” He looked over at Rachel. “And you’re safe. I’ve been praying—”
Joey’s horse appeared at the top of the hill. He reined in, his face flushed, and took aim at Sean.
“Don’t believe anythin’ he says!” he shouted. He stared at the bounty hunter. “I don’t know who you are, but you got to listen! Holden didn’t do nothin’! Sean’s the one who killed Jed!”
“He’s right!” Rachel cried. She stared at Sean. “You’ve lost. Once Gordie is safe, I’ll do everything within my power to expose you for what you are.”
“You will expose me?” Sean laughed with delight. “I hardly—”
“Shut up and get down,” Constantine snapped.
Bride of the Wolf Page 30
