Shameless

by Rosanne Bittner

  Clay felt a strange alarm when the man mentioned the young Mexican woman. It couldn’t be, could it? Nina had promised to go back to Mexico and stay there. “Someone who worked for you must have been in on it,” he said. “How else would they know where the best horses were kept?”

  “I already know that. I hired a Mexican man a couple of weeks ago—called himself Santos Rodriguez. He was nowhere to be found this morning. I don’t know if the whole gang was Mexican or not. I only know the two we know for certain were involved were Mexican! There had to be quite a few of them to make off with that many horses.”

  Clay didn’t want to believe the worst, but he couldn’t help thinking that this sounded so much like the way Nina and Emilio operated, using Nina’s beauty to seduce an unsuspecting victim, making off with stolen horses during the night. How often did one hear of a Mexican woman being part of a gang of horse thieves? Much as he secretly would like to see Nina again, yet he hoped she was not a part of this. This time he would not be able to help her if she got caught. He would be tempted to leave the matter be if Beale refused to help, yet the thought of these angry Texans finding Nina on their own was disturbing. Better that he catch her than Clyde Boone.

  “We can afford one scout and five or six men for three or four days, can’t we, Lieutenant?” Clay asked Beale. “We do owe it to these ranchers to do what we can. We can easily catch up in a few days. If we find the thieves, we’ll take them to the next fort, and Mr. Boone will have his horses back.”

  He looked at Boone. “Where is your ranch?”

  “It doesn’t matter. If you can spare a few men, we’ll ride with you ourselves and recapture our own horses. That way you’ll have more men along. We don’t know how many are involved, but when we find them, we’ll hang them right where we find them!”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Beale said, the same words on Clay’s lips. “There will be no vigilante work where the Army is involved. I’ll assign some men to help you, Mr. Boone, but only if you promise to take your horses and go home if they’re found. You will leave the thieves to us!”

  Clay could see murder in the man’s eyes. “All right,” he said grudgingly. “I need those horses back, Lieutenant! That’s the important thing. I was hoping you’d let me use one of your Apaches. Nobody can track much better than they can, and they know all the good hiding places in this desert. I don’t have much use for Apaches in general, but I’ll concede they’re damn good at finding their prey.”

  Beale looked at Clay. “I certainly didn’t plan on this, Lieutenant, but I suppose you’re right about our responsibilities here.”

  “I’d like to do this myself, Lieutenant, if you don’t mind. And I’d like to pick the men who go with me.”

  Beale sighed, looking out into the desolate land. “All right. You seem to have a reputation for catching horse thieves, Lieutenant. And since I am technically in charge of this expedition, I can’t very well leave it. I’ll give you five days. That’s it. If you don’t find anything by then, you get back here and rejoin the expedition. Since this just happened last night, they can’t be too far ahead.”

  Clay nodded, feeling a strange elation at the thought that he might see Nina again, he knew that this time her fate would be much worse. He looked at Clyde Boone. “What makes you think they headed this way?”

  “We followed the tracks out of the barn. They led to a thick grove of trees. We found places there where small branches were broken off, grass was trampled. Found a clearing where they apparently gathered the horses all together. We tracked them out of the clearing and the tracks headed north. I think they’re headed for Santa Fe. There are a lot of men there who will buy anything, even if it’s stolen. Trouble is, we got to this hard-rock ground and lost their tracks. I figured your Apache could pick them up again.”

  Clay looked at one of the Apache scouts. “You think you can find their tracks, Coyote?”

  The Indian straightened proudly. “Coyote can find anything,” he answered with a haughty air. “Especially white eyes. They are not so good at hiding as the Apache.”

  Clay smiled wryly. “I won’t argue that one.” He turned to Beale. “I’ll pick out five men and we’ll leave right away. We’ll take one pack horse with rations for five days. You’ll be left with enough men to fend off Indians if you should have any trouble, but I don’t think you will. This time of year most Indians are in greener country, hunting buffalo. Besides, they seem to be afraid to come near the camels. At any rate, I’ll probably catch up with you at Fort Fillmore.”

  Beale nodded. “All right. Take what you need.” He looked at Boone. “This is the most we can do, Mr. Boone. If it doesn’t work, you’ll have to go on to Santa Fe and hope to catch the thieves there.”

  “Santa Fe is a long way from my ranch. I can’t afford to be gone that long. I’ll damn well catch those bastards long before that, Lieutenant.” He turned to ride back to his men, and Clay told Coyote to wait while he picked out some men to ride with them. He headed back down the line, a heavy feeling in his chest. Good Lord, don’t let it be Nina, he prayed, wondering why in hell it mattered so much. He didn’t want to know she had gone back to the life he had warned her to stay away from. Most of all, he was afraid to be near her again, for then he might want her again. But she would belong to someone else then. She would belong to the law.

  Clyde Boone paced, cursing the heat. “We should have stayed with him,” he grumbled to Clay, referring to Coyote, who felt they were close to catching up with the horse thieves and thought he should go on alone.

  “Coyote is good at what he does,” Clay told the man for what seemed the hundredth time. “If we’re as close as he thinks, they’ll hear us coming if we all approach them at the same time. Let Coyote find out where they’re holing up for the night and then we’ll decide what to do.”

  “I know what me and my men will do! We’ll ride in there and kill every one of the bastards and get our horses back!”

  Clay looked up at the man from where he sat on a rock. Boone was a big, blustery man who had fought Indians and other outlaws to chisel out a piece of New Mexico for himself. His wife had died out here, and he had no children. He was a hard, determined man, around forty-five, Clay guessed. According to Boone, New Mexico belonged to him, and he was the only law needed in this land.

  “There is a woman among them,” Clay reminded him.

  “If she steals horses, then she deserves the same fate as any other horse thief.”

  Clay reached over and took a thin cigar from his gear, leaning down to light it from a small fire he and his men had made from scrub brush and buffalo chips. “Everything is strictly right or wrong to you, isn’t it, Mr. Boone? No discussing it. No excuses.”

  “What do you mean?” the man replied, turning and scowling.

  “I mean, you never consider the fact that there might be legitimate reasons why some people do what they do. The Indians, for example. I have every bit as much reason to hate them as you do. I carry a pretty nasty scar on my chest from an Apache warrior’s tomahawk, but that doesn’t mean I can’t understand why they and the Comanche behave the way they do. I expect if someone else came along and started shooting my people down like dogs and taking my land and killing off wild game that I needed to survive, I’d be pretty mad, too. They were here first, you know.”

  Boone watched him with disdain. “Maybe so, but they don’t know the best way to use this land. The weak and ignorant have to fall before the strong and educated, Lieutenant. It’s been that way since the beginning of time.”

  Clay quietly puffed the cigar, thinking about what had happened to Nina Juarez’s family. “Yes, I suppose.”

  “You saying those thieves might have some good excuse for stealing my horses and nearly killing two of my men?”

  Clay took the cigar from his mouth, toying with it between his fingers. If it was Nina with the outlaws, he couldn’t help wondering, was she there by choice? “I’m saying things aren’t always what they seem, M
r. Boone. Sometimes people just get a little misguided in life.”

  Boone snickered. “You’re misguided if you think there’s any legitimate excuse for stealing what belongs to another.”

  “I didn’t say it was right. I’m only saying that people can know in their heart what’s right, but sometimes things happen to them that make it difficult for them to make the proper choices in life.”

  Boone put his hands on his hips, his shirt showing splotches of perspiration under his arms. “You saying you know somebody in that gang?”

  Clay stuck the cigar between his teeth. “I might, but it won’t stop me from arresting them. I’m just reminding you that the thieves are my problem. Yours is to take your horses and head back to your ranch. I already told you once there would be no lynch-mob ‘justice’ if we catch these men. You’d better remember that, or I’ll arrest you and your men right along with the horse thieves.”

  Boone sucked in his breath, his pride wounded. “Maybe I should have gone after them alone.”

  Clay rose. “Maybe you should have, but I don’t think you would have found them without Coyote.”

  Boone turned to study the rock-studded horizon. “What’s to prevent your Coyote from going and telling his Apache friends about those fine horses? Once he finds them, he might decide to keep them for himself. You know how Indians like horses, especially horses that belong to someone else.”

  Clay shook his head. “You don’t trust anybody, do you?”

  “Not in these parts. I…” The man hesitated, then snickered. “Well, you were right about your Apache scout, Lieutenant, I’ll give you that. I think that’s him coming now.”

  Both men waited until the figure came closer. Coyote rode hard into camp, looking excited. “I found them,” he told Clay, swinging one leg around and sliding off his horse. “Wolf Canyon. Seven men, one woman. We must move tonight while they are camped.”

  “Let’s go!” Boone said excitedly, heading for his horse.

  “Wait a minute,” Clay told him. “We can’t go charging in there. They’ll hear us coming and light out.” He looked at Coyote. “Is there just one way out of that canyon?”

  The Indian nodded.

  Clay turned to Boone. “We’ll head that way, ride until we’re in hearing distance, then dismount and walk our horses in. We’ll take positions at the canyon exit, then come morning light, we’ll surround them as they try to leave.”

  Boone nodded. “All right. Just tell your men to shoot straight. I don’t want any of my horses wounded or killed.”

  Clay glared at the man. “We’ll be sure to just wound or kill humans, Mr. Boone. You just leave the capture to me and my men. If something goes wrong, you can help us out. Otherwise, you tell your men to leave their guns in their holsters. I won’t stand for any deliberate killings, and I damn well won’t stand for anyone shooting down the woman!”

  Boone’s eyes narrowed with indignation. “Whatever you say, Lieutenant,” he growled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you know who that woman is. Maybe you’ve got a special interest in her.”

  “I’m not certain who she is, Mr. Boone. I just have my suspicions. If she is who I think she is, I do have a special interest, but not what you’re thinking. You just do what I say and you’ll have your horses back. That’s what’s most important, isn’t it?”

  Boone stepped closer. “That woman offered herself to my guards, Lieutenant Youngblood. If you’re thinking there is anything innocent or good about her, you don’t know much about women.”

  Clay held his eyes. “I expect you’re the one who fills that description, Mr. Boone.”

  Their eyes held challengingly, two men who had quickly grown to dislike each other. “Your plan better work, Lieutenant, or me and my men will do whatever we have to do.”

  He turned and stomped away. Clay looked up at Coyote, who still sat on his horse. “You get a good look at the woman?”

  Coyote nodded. “She is young, Mexican.”

  Clay sighed, turning to muster his men together. “Get ready to ride,” he told them.

  Nina mounted her black gelding, trotting the horse into the stolen herd and helping gather the horses together for the day’s ride. The rest of the Billings gang whistled and shouted, getting the horses moving out of the canyon.

  It was a pleasant morning, cool and clear. They had all eaten a fine breakfast of corn bread and bacon, and Nina was feeling a little easier about the possibility of being followed. The night had been quiet. They had broken camp and were packed and ready for a hard day’s ride north, heading for Santa Fe.

  Nina lagged slightly behind as the others herded the horses out of Wolf Canyon. Mike was certain their plan had worked well and that this herd would bring them each a good amount of money from his buyer in Santa Fe. Nina began counting her and Emilio’s share mentally, hoping Mike would get even more for the horses than he figured, but all thoughts of imminent wealth left her when she noticed the glint of the sun on something metal.

  A rifle? Her heartbeat quickened and her eyes widened when soldiers suddenly appeared at the canyon entrance. “Halt!” someone shouted. “Put down your weapons!” Nina could not see the soldiers’ faces because of the glare of the sun. Her mind raced with panic and indecision. She heard Mike shout then. “Everybody ride hard!”

  Suddenly all was wild confusion. Mike and the others, including Emilio, took off at a hard gallop, shooting their guns and stampeding the stolen horses.

  “Nina, come on!” she heard Emilio shout. Dust rolled, and she could not see him. She could only hear shooting and guess which rider was Emilio. In desperate fear, she followed the others, kicking her faithful horse into a hard gallop. She was sure she could outride any soldier waiting ahead. How had they found them? Mike had been so sure it could not happen.

  She charged through the dust, gasping with shock and new fear when she rode past Mike’s body lying on the ground. He appeared to be dead, but there was no time to stop and see for sure. Where was Emilio? Up ahead there was nothing but choking, billowing dust. She rode into it, found a clearing. She was out of the canyon now, but she felt someone riding down on her from behind. She leaned forward, her hat blowing off, her hair flying as her horse gave her its best.

  Suddenly a strong arm grabbed her. She screamed and scratched and kicked as a man yanked her from her horse. She was thrown to the ground then with such a jolt that all her breath left her. For a moment everything was black. She felt someone jerk her up, and she gasped for air, staggering. Someone grabbed her hair and jerked her head back, and she felt a steel gun barrel at her throat. “You just bought yourself a noose, you little Mexican bitch!” a man growled.

  “Let her go, Boone!” came another voice. It sounded familiar.

  “She deserves to die!”

  “Go help your men gather up the horses,” came the other voice. “Let the girl go or I swear I’ll shoot you where you stand!”

  Clyde Boone let go of Nina, and she went to her knees. She was vaguely aware that her attacker had left her and someone else had approached. She opened her eyes to see knee-high boots and blue pants with a yellow stripe down the sides. A soldier! She looked up at him, and her eyes widened in shock. “Lieutenant Youngblood!” she gasped.

  “So, it is you!” Clay snarled, jerking her to her feet.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Damn you, Nina Juarez! What do you think you’re doing! Why aren’t you in Mexico as you promised!” Clay jerked her out of the way as two soldiers rode hard past them, chasing some of the Billings gang.

  Nina looked around desperately for Emilio; she could not locate him. In the distance several men were rounding up the stolen horses, but she could see they were not soldiers. She looked back at Clay, surprised, mortified, furious. “You!” She wriggled out of his grasp. “How did you, of all people, find me?” she gasped.

  Shooting continued in the distance. Clay turned to shout an order, and Nina took off running, screaming for Emilio. Clay ran after her, his foo
t slipping on loose gravel just as he caught her. They both went down with a grunt, and Clay rolled on top of her. Their eyes held in a moment of challenge, and a terrible temptation swept through Clay, followed by anger at his awkward situation. “Stay put, or I will tie you up this time!” he growled.

  For a brief moment Nina thought of her mother’s attackers. Clay Youngblood lay on top of her, a big man who could easily have his way with her, and who, she could tell by his eyes, held that very thought. Did he still remember that kiss, as she did?

  So close, Clay was thinking. And so beautiful. Here she was again, her breasts swelling from her panting chest, her finely chiseled face beckoning him, those full lips he had tasted and never forgotten tempting him again. “Damn you!” he repeated, getting up. “I told you if this happened again I wouldn’t be able to help you!”

  “Then why did you come after me? Why don’t you let me go right now?”

  He grabbed her arm and jerked her up, pulling her behind some rocks to make sure she did not catch a stray bullet. Beyond them Boone and his men rounded up their horses, while the rest of the soldiers chased down as many fleeing outlaws as they could. He leaned close to Nina.

  “The only reason I helped was that I heard a young Mexican woman was involved. I hoped to hell it wasn’t you, but in case it was, I wanted to be along to make sure you weren’t raped and hanged once you were caught! The man you stole those horses from is vengeful and relentless! He’s got no pity for horse thieves, man or woman! And what’s this I’m told about you offering yourself up to his guards to get their attention? Don’t you remember what I warned you would happen if you kept this up?” His eyes moved over her scathingly. “Have you finally stooped to prostituting yourself for that brother of yours?”

  Nina raised her hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist. To her consternation, Nina’s eyes teared. “I would never do that!” she spit at him, embarrassed, hating him, humiliated that he would think such things of her.