The Lawman

by Patricia Potter

  She gave each of them a canteen and a cloth bag of hardtack and jerky. The horses and Archie’s mule were all saddled.

  Jared joined her. She knew from his face that he didn’t want her to go with them.

  “Could you stay if Mac was your father or brother?” she asked.

  “No,” he admitted, and she realized from his expression he was thinking of his wife and child.

  She turned away, but he pulled her to him. His eyes ran over her, and she mentally cringed. She wore a shirt and pants with a hat pulled down over her forehead—the same clothes she’d had on when she shot him.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, but then she’d thought that before. His dark eyes told her he wanted to kiss her.

  Ignoring the others, he put his fingers on her cheek. “Trust me,” he said again as his gaze met hers.

  And she did. At that moment she did. He had his gun. He had his freedom. He could have left them to the bounty hunters. She’d watched the change in his eyes as he and Mac had talked. And Reese, who was a fine judge of character, had given his trust, as well.

  Jared was a marshal. He was bound by duty to take Mac in, but in this thing at least, she did trust him. He would get them out of Gideon’s Hope. And then…

  And then she would do what she had to do.

  She moved away from him and toward her horse. She didn’t wait for Jared to try to help her. God knew he could barely stand himself. She tied her saddlebags to the saddle, along with the sack of hardtack, then swung herself up as the others did the same.

  They rode down the abandoned street, Dawg running alongside them. She heard a distant rifle shot, then a roaring noise from the direction of the pass.

  Jake and Ike had unleashed the rock slide.

  The bounty hunters had arrived.

  17

  “WHAT IN THE DEVIL was that?” Jared asked as he pulled up his horse and turned to Samantha.

  “Rock slide,” she said in a flat voice. “After you told me about bounty hunters, we rigged a pile of rocks above the pass. Once you start those going down, they pick up other rocks. Some friends, mountain men, have been watching the pass, ready to start a slide. Benson’s men are here.”

  He remembered passing through on a trail barely large enough for a narrow wagon. He hadn’t much liked the sight of boulders and rocks clinging to the cliffs. Not with the recent rain. “How were you planning to get out, then?” he asked.

  “We thought a rock slide would give us some warning if they came,” she replied. “We hoped the pass would be blocked long enough that they would just give up. If not, we could pick off some from the top of the pass, enough to scare them off.”

  “How long will it delay them?” he asked.

  “Depends on how much rock was picked up on the way down,” she said. “But Archie thinks it could be enough that they would need dynamite to get through.”

  He realized they—Archie and Sam—had thought it all out and had decided to take the risks for MacDonald. He was humbled by that kind of loyalty.

  He looked around at what was left of the town. The saloon. The livery. A charred brick building on the other side of the street and a small wooden house. The porch sagged and the windows were broken.

  But the buildings could be used as positions for a cross fire. He suspected the mountain men were good shots. Had to be if they’d survived this long. Life in the mountains was as hard as it could get.

  “I want to go to the pass and see what the situation is,” he said, his gaze moving from one man to the other and lingering on Sam’s face. “Maybe I can reason with them. The rest of you stay here and take up positions in the saloon and stable. Maybe the pass wasn’t blocked completely.”

  Reese hesitated. “That leg looks none too steady, and there will be some walking. Maybe I should go with you.”

  Jared wondered whether the gambler was worried he would abandon them. “No,” he said. “If they break through, I want some protection for Sam and MacDonald.” He didn’t have to ask if Reese could shoot. He had the look of a man who could take care of himself.

  “Then take Archie,” Reese said. “He can show you the path up to the top.”

  “I can do that,” Sam broke in.

  “No,” all three men said simultaneously.

  Samantha frowned, and her eyes flashed rebellion. Jared wanted to reach out and touch her, but then he wouldn’t be able to leave. And there was no time for those kind of feelings. Gideon’s Hope could turn into a killing ground with Sam one of the casualties unless he found a way to control the situation.

  He used the one weapon he knew would be effective. “MacDonald needs you here.”

  He watched the emotions play across her face. Then she nodded, and relief flooded him. He looked at MacDonald, at his heavily bandaged right hand. “Can you shoot with your left hand?” he asked.

  “Not as good as the right, but I can get by.”

  Dammit, he had to trust the man. A galling thought after ten years of anger and pursuit. Still, Jared needed him. He turned, saw Sam’s eyes on him and made the decision.

  “You better use a rifle, MacDonald,” he finally said. He realized then he was thinking of the outlaw now as MacDonald. Had been for the past several days. Not Thornton. Not a killer.

  “Take the window on the first floor of the saloon,” he continued. “Sam, you take the second-floor window on the far right. Reese, you take the loft in the stable. Establish a cross fire. Position any extra rifles so they’re poking out the window. I want them to think we have more guns than we do.”

  He didn’t want to give Samantha time to think, to argue. Hell, he didn’t have any time to think. But Samantha was right about the mine. A tracker could easily locate them. There would be no way to cover the tracks with all the mud.

  Jared turned toward the trail. Samantha guided her horse next to him. She turned her face up to his and her eyes had never been quite as bright. “Be careful,” she whispered.

  For the first time in years, he had every intention of being careful.

  Archie led the way up to the path, and Jared followed. Once they left the main trail, they continued on a barely visible path up the mountain. The sound of rifle fire grew louder as they climbed the steep trail.

  Then a whistle sang out.

  “Jake,” Archie explained. “He sees us.”

  At the top of the pass, Jared watched as a grizzled old man dressed in buckskins approached. He showed no friendliness as he studied Jared.

  “That the marshal?” he asked Archie.

  “Yep,” Archie said. “How many?”

  “Fifteen to my count. Kind of hard to say for sure since the rock slide scattered them. They’re regrouping, though, and some are trying to clear the pass. Don’t think they’ll have much success. Saw one riding like hell toward the east. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s after dynamite.”

  “That should give us another day or so,” Jared said.

  The mountain man directed his attention to Jared. His expression made it obvious he didn’t hold marshals in high regard. “We thought to stop ’em with a few shots, but they fired back, and some of ’em were damned good.”

  Jared dismounted awkwardly. Pain shot through his leg as he put weight on it. He limped to the edge of the cliff and looked down. A dozen men were trying to remove the rocks that blocked the pass. Several others were gathering horses that had been spooked. A bullet hit a rock next to him, and he ducked.

  He looked at Archie’s undershirt visible under his blue shirt. It was white. Or had been at one time. Now it was gray. “Give me a piece of that undershirt,” he said, “and something to hang it on.”

  Archie started to protest, then shrugged as he understood. When he’d slipped out of it, he handed it to Jared, then quickly cut a branch with his knife. He watched silently as Jared tied the undershirt to the branch.

  Jared waved the flag high enough that the men below could see it. “
U.S. Marshal,” he hollered down. “What do you want?”

  “We want Cal Thornton,” one shouted back.

  “He’s in my custody,” Jared said. “He’s been arrested and I’m taking him to trial.”

  “We’ll do it for you,” came the reply.

  “I have a posse with me,” Jared bluffed.

  “Haven’t heard of no posse. Just of a lone marshal traveling this way.”

  The men didn’t slow their efforts to clear the rocks, and another bullet whizzed by Jared. He stepped back.

  He had his answer. Still, he tried again. “Don’t believe everything you hear,” he yelled down.

  He turned to the man called Jake. “You got more loose rocks?”

  The man nodded. “Sure. Enough to jar some more boulders loose and mebbe hurt some of them. Not enough to block the pass again if they get dynamite.”

  Jared nodded. “Just give me what time you can.”

  Archie stepped closer to Jake. “You two skeedaddle if it looks like they’re coming through. Warn us, then disappear up into those mountains.”

  “Hell you say,” Jake said, and Ike nodded. “We owe Mac. When we roll out the next rock slide, we’ll ride back down into town. Both of us are real good with rifles.”

  Mac the damn saint again.

  Jake speared Jared with a glare as if he’d read his mind. “Make no mistake. You try to take Mac in after this is over, you gonna have trouble, and there’s more of us than there is of you. And don’t you go blame Sam none. She did what she had to do.”

  For a moment, Jared thought the man might take his rifle and shoot him right then.

  Maybe he deserved it. Probably deserved it. He’d allowed his penis to override his good sense. He’d bedded a virgin, even knowing that he would take in the person she so obviously loved. There was no way she would forgive him for it, even if MacDonald agreed to go with him. The man faced serious charges even if he were cleared of murder. The army wasn’t forgiving of payroll robberies. Prison was a certainty.

  He thought of Sam back in that sorry excuse for a town she loved. She’d been ready to die for MacDonald. She still was ready. His heart thumped painfully in his chest.

  He saw Archie watching him. Probing.

  He took a step toward his horse, and his leg almost buckled. He had to be careful. The pain had receded as his mind concentrated on finding a solution, but his wound wasn’t remotely healed and he was weaker than he’d thought.

  “Need help?” Archie asked.

  “No,” he said. “Let’s get down.” He paused a moment. “You sure the creek is too dangerous?”

  “Yep. We have a raft but it would be torn to pieces against the rocks.”

  Jared had to trust him on that. Archie had lived here for years and he wanted to get Sam and Mac out. If he said it was impossible, then it was. No one was going out that way, especially not an injured man.

  He and Archie exchanged glances, then turned their horses toward the tiny cluster of buildings that was all that was left of Gideon’s Hope.

  Jared dismounted in front of the saloon and went inside. MacDonald tried to rise from a chair, but was none too steady.

  “Stay down,” Jared said. “Where’s Sam?”

  “Loading rifles and positioning them in rooms above,” MacDonald said. “We have four extra rifles.” He looked at Jared and raised an eyebrow in question. “How many men out there?”

  “Fourteen…fifteen, maybe. A few looked like they were injured in the rock slide. One of your people up there says someone rode like hell toward Central City, and the others are digging. He thinks the rider probably went after dynamite.”

  “Unless they know what they’re doing, they’ll make things worse,” MacDonald said. “If they do know how to handle explosives, they can get through pretty quick, but the nearest dynamite is about twenty-five miles away.”

  “We could try to pick them off,” Archie said.

  Jared had thought about that. But to shoot down they would have to reveal themselves, and the posse was composed of skilled gunmen. He also wasn’t sure how much value Archie and MacDonald would be. That left the mountain men, himself and Reese. And Sam. She wouldn’t be left behind. He knew that.

  He didn’t want wholesale slaughter. Nor did he think they had enough ammunition.

  MacDonald stood. “That’s it, then. I’m going to ride out to them. I’m not putting Sam and Archie in danger. They want me. No one else.”

  “You couldn’t get through, either,” Jared countered.

  “No, but we could let them know I’ll surrender when the pass is cleared.”

  “Hell you will,” Jared said. “No one takes a prisoner from me. No one ever has, and no one will.”

  “What about Sam?” MacDonald replied tersely.

  “You think she would ever have a good day again if you walked out of here to God knows what?” He hesitated, then added slowly, “I’ve lived with that kind of guilt for nigh onto ten years. It’s not something I want Sam to carry.”

  MacDonald’s eyes sharpened. “Better than her dying.”

  “I don’t think she would agree,” Jared said. “And maybe I can figure out a way to keep us all alive.”

  “I’m listening,” MacDonald said tersely.

  “What do you usually do when you have a rock slide?” Jared asked. “How do you clear it?”

  “Dynamite. We have some left over from the mining days.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In an old mine shaft. After the fire, we didn’t want to keep it in town.”

  “How far?” Jared asked as new hope started to build inside.

  “A few minutes by horseback. Archie can show you where it’s located.”

  Jared said to Archie, “Let’s go.” He turned to Reese, who had joined them. “You stay here with MacDonald and Sam.”

  SAM WAS HALFWAY DOWN the stairs when she heard Mac’s offer to give himself up to the hired guns and Jared’s abrupt refusal to let him do so. She stopped to listen. Even as her heart cracked at his comment about the toll of guilt, she relished his next words. It’s not something I want Sam to carry. He knew her. Understood her. Even more, he respected her and her loyalties. He may not agree with them, but…

  She wanted to run down and hug him, but something prevented her. She didn’t want him to know she’d eavesdropped. And she knew he still meant to take Mac in. She quietly went upstairs to one of the windows where she’d left a loaded rifle. She watched Jared ride away, Archie at his side on his mule.

  Fifteen men, give or take. Experienced gunmen, if Jared and Reese were right. How could they hold off that many?

  She went downstairs and joined Mac, who’d settled back into a chair. She suspected it was all he could do to keep upright.

  She put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I wish you weren’t here,” he said softly.

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  She suspected he already knew the answer. “Yes,” she said.

  “How much?”

  “Too much,” she said frankly.

  “A marshal.” Mac sounded disgusted.

  “Not what I expected,” she said with a grin.

  “I don’t want you…hurt.”

  “I won’t be. We understand each other in a way. He knows I’ll do anything to keep him from taking you, and I know that’s what he feels he has to do.”

  “A conundrum,” he said softly.

  Conundrum. A dilemma. A difficult problem.

  Except it was more than that. Much more. Her heart was involved.

  Even now, she grew warm at the very thought of Jared. How could that be when…

  Her hand tightened on Mac’s shoulder. She owed him so much. And nothing good could come of today.

  She was grateful he didn’t ask more questions. She suspected he refrained because he already knew the answers. He wasn’t one to rant or scold, just to be near if she needed something. She suddenly became
aware of a wetness on her cheek.

  She loved him so. She loved Reese and Archie, as well, but she’d never seen the guilt and pain in them that she saw in Mac. It weighed on him and had for years. She’d heard the same guilt in Jared’s voice. The two men had far more in common than they would ever want to admit.

  How long had it been? Fifteen minutes. Jared was probably at the mine now. The dynamite was old, unsteady. She moved closer to Mac. Closer to human contact.

  They might die in the next few days. All of them.

  JARED FOLLOWED Archie to the mine shaft.

  “There’s a bunch of abandoned mines along here,” Archie explained. “When the nuggets ran out, some believed there was gold in these mountains. Never found any veins, though. Me, I think it came down from far north.”

  It was probably the longest explanation he’d ever gotten from the old man. “How much farther?” he asked after several minutes of riding.

  “We’re here,” Archie said, sliding off his mule.

  The mine entrance was overgrown, but there was a path. Jared dismounted. It took him several seconds to get his balance, to adjust to the pain.

  Archie appeared not to notice. “Some folks kept prospecting here after the town burned down. Didn’t understand the gold came from up higher and was washed down.” He took a hard look at Jared’s face. “You be needing some help?”

  Astonishing offer from a man who looked as if he could barely walk himself.

  Jared shook his head, then followed Archie inside the mine shaft. The old man continued where he’d left off. “Them miners gave up before they went in very far,” Archie said. He hesitated. “We thought about hiding Mac in one of the mines, and Sam stacked supplies there. But a good tracker could find it without much trouble. Durn mud.”

  More trust. More information. Jared knew Archie was right. There was no way to cover tracks, especially not in the time they had.

  “What are you going to do about Mac?” Archie asked. “When we git him out of here.”

  Jared noted the man said when, not if. He wished he was as optimistic. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. Some ideas had been flirting in his mind, but his main goal now was to deal with the posse and get MacDonald and Samantha safely away.