Desert Sunrise (Love in the Sierras Book 2)

by Belle, Sawyer

  “Go,” she said, pulling away from him. “Hurry.”

  He leapt onto the horse’s back and spurred him south as fast as his long legs would speed them.

  Jess sat cross-legged and rested her bound hands on her lap as she leaned against a large boulder. Caroline’s frustration was starting to manifest itself in the amount of pacing she did. They’d been at the rendezvous point for a full day with no sign of Caroline’s partner or Marlena. The news was a balm on Jess’s tense nerves, and she smiled smugly. Morgan Kelly had come through for her. There was no way he would let a strange man ride off with her sister. If Caroline’s partner put up a fight, he was likely dead, and they’d be waiting here for quite a while.

  This development bolstered Jess’s optimism, and she was already working out a design of escape. Caroline wouldn’t wait there forever and Diggery wasn’t traveling any farther. His family and home were in Virginia City. Once Marlena failed to show, there would be no leverage to hold over Jess, and it would be down to one woman against the other. Then, Jess would make her move and fight her way back to freedom. She’d collect Marlena and run as far as they must to escape the reach of New Mexico.

  She continued to sit, idly nibbling her biscuit while Caroline cursed and calculated aloud, bouncing ideas and options off of Diggery, which was about as fruitful as bouncing ideas off of the rock Jess sat against. When the sun began to set and Diggery sparked a new fire to life in their pit, the soft clop of horseshoes in the sand reached them, and Jess’s heart hit the ground when a horse and rider entered the camp.

  Caroline exclaimed at the sight of her partner, and Jess felt the walls of her throat close when Marlena slid off the back of the horse and ran to her. She was not bound at the wrists and so threw her arms around Jess’s neck and wept. Caroline immediately lit into her partner, assaulting him with questions and lectures. When Jess could finally loose her tongue, she whispered painfully.

  “What are you doing here? How could Morgan let him take you?”

  “He tried to put it off,” she whispered back. “He stalled Agent Russell. Made him stay at the ranch while Morgan sent telegrams to New Mexico and Chicago to verify who he was. When everything came back legitimate, he had no choice but to let him take me.”

  “Yes, he bloody well did have a choice. He could have not let him take you.”

  “Morgan wouldn’t injure an innocent man for doing his job.”

  “No, instead he will injure an innocent girl for defending her sister,” Jess said with swollen eyes.

  “Jess, what are we going to do?”

  Jess shut her eyes and took a long, shaky breath. Her nostrils flared and the back of her eyes stung. “We’re going back to New Mexico, and I’m going to hang for murder.”

  “No!” Marlena whispered emphatically. “I’ll tell them I did it. I’ll tell them the truth before I let you hang.”

  “Hush,” Jess shot back, bringing her hands up to cover the girl’s mouth. “You do that and I’ll tell them you’re just trying to save me. They’ll believe me, trust me.”

  Marlena’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t let you die for what I did.”

  “Shhh. I wouldn’t be alive if not for what you did. And that one act has enslaved you to a life of fear and running. My hanging will free you to live life the way you want. Study music. Sing for the rest of your life the way you want to.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’ll happily die for that.”

  Marlena hugged Jess again, burying her face into her shoulder as she sobbed. “I would never sing another note if it meant keeping you alive.”

  The air around them had gone quiet, and Jess looked up through watery eyes to see the other three watching them. The lines of Caroline’s forehead were drawn and tight, the doubt in her eyes as readable as the night stars. Jess latched onto that doubt and fixed the woman with an intense stare. If she would hang, Caroline would remember this moment, the moment two sisters said goodbye.

  Soon, they all laid around the fire. Marlena and Jess were bound, hand and feet, and tied together for the night. Marlena fell asleep easily, her body fatigued from travel and emotion. The men drifted next, followed by Caroline. Sleep evaded Jess, for which she was grateful. Her thoughts were pinned on Val and their one night together.

  She stared at the dancing flames and saw his eyes, golden pools of intense sincerity, sparkling with humor, darkening with desire. She smiled softly, recalling the way his rough palms slid over the sensitive areas of her body, caressing and torturing in a beautifully composed torment. She pictured him sewing, heard the sweet tenor of his voice, and the crisp, deep timbre of his laughter. It was those images that lulled her to sleep.

  They set off in the morning, after Caroline and Russell said their goodbyes to Diggery. Marlena and Jess shared a horse, but Caroline still held the reins. Marlena’s ties had been removed with the dawn, but Jess remained bound at the wrists. The sisters were all but forgotten while the two agents bickered in an obvious flirtation.

  “I thought I detected a faint bit of worry in your eyes before I rode into camp,” Russell said to Caroline, who snorted. “C’mon, admit it. You were worried about me.”

  “The only worry I felt was that you might ruin my chance to prove to Pinkerton I’m every bit as good as Kate Warner.”

  “Ha! I don’t need to ruin your chance, sweetheart. That ain’t ever gonna happen. Kate is Pinkerton’s darling. A position you’ll never achieve. Kate is…she’s got a gift for this kind of work.”

  “You’re saying I don’t? Russell, just shut your mouth before I shoot you.”

  Jess chuckled. She couldn’t help herself. No matter the circumstances, she liked Caroline.

  The flat, barren desert soon gave way to a field of boulders, some larger than a covered wagon, strewn about in haphazard fashion, like God had used them in a game of marbles. She studied the various shapes they made, seeing animal forms and letters, but when approaching hooves echoed off of the limestone, she turned to find five riders galloping toward them. When they came into view, the force of her shock nearly knocked her from the horse, and the squeeze of Marlena’s arms around her midsection cut off her air supply.

  “Sheriff Cunningham,” Caroline chirped with surprise. “What are you doing all the way out here? I didn’t expect you to meet us.”

  “When your telegram said you found her, we set off right away. Couldn’t risk letting her get away,” the sheriff answered. “In fact, we can take her from here. There’s no need for you to see her all the way back to New Mexico. You did what you were hired to do. You’ll find the remainder of the commission has already been wired to you.”

  “It’s no trouble,” Caroline said. “I have to complete the case anyway and file my report with the judge.”

  “I can do that for you,” the man returned and Caroline tensed, a flood of red rushing to her cheeks.

  “It sounds an awful lot like you don’t want me around, Sheriff. Why is that, I wonder?”

  Jess’s voice sounded hollow and deep when she spoke. It echoed through her head as though it belonged to someone else: another woman from another time.

  “That’s because he’s not the sheriff,” she told Caroline, who turned a questioning gaze onto her. “He’s my husband.”

  Grant Wilson leaned his forearm against the saddle horn and laughed. “Damn, Jessica. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

  “Not long enough,” she said, still struggling to swallow the shock.

  “I almost didn’t believe you survived. I had to see it with my own eyes.” His lewd gaze slid over her throat as he shook his head and tsked. “Some things never change, though. Like you not knowing when to keep your mouth shut. Thanks to you, these two gotta die.”

  Caroline and Russell reached for their guns, but shots rang out from two men flanking Grant. Russell fell from his saddle, a pool of blood turning the sand into red mud beneath him. Blood sprayed from Caroline as she slid sideways in the saddle. Her horse bolted and Jess watched in frozen
horror as the woman’s body jostled and bounced off the side of her sprinting horse.

  Grant laughed. “Aw, that’s better. Now, I have you all to myself. Just like old times.”

  His voice clawed at her skin, shrinking her strength and will. She shut her eyes and trembled.

  Chapter 32

  Val licked his dry lips and prayed he followed the right set of tracks. If he was correct, the number of horses had grown from three to six, and the tracks were getting fresher. He would reach them within the hour.

  He rode on, squinting at a smudge of movement in the distance. As it neared, he recognized a horse without a rider, and it was walking at a weary pace toward him. He cantered to it and was surprised to find Caroline slumped in the saddle. Her eyes opened, red-rimmed and glossy.

  “Caroline? What are you doing out here? What happened to you?” he asked, helping her sit up. When his hand came away from her arm, it was covered in blood. “Jesus!”

  He slid from his saddle and pulled her down to the ground. She wore a long leather duster that he removed carefully. Her body swayed, her features listless in a house of pale white skin. She’d been shot in the arm, a wound that wouldn’t be fatal if he could stem the flow of blood. He removed his bandana and tied it around her upper arm.

  “Who did this to you?” he asked, trying to sound comforting, and not urgent.

  “He’s alive,” she mumbled.

  “Who are you talking about? Caroline, who shot you? Was Jess…Collette…with you?”

  She blinked and swallowed, working to maintain her grip on consciousness. Her good hand reached out and clutched his arm like a vice, her eyes wide and wild.

  “It’s all my fault,” she said.

  He sat on his knees and cupped her cheeks, trying his best not to shake the answers out of her. “Caroline, what happened?”

  “My name is not Caroline,” she said. “It’s Dot, and I’m a detective for Alan Pinkerton.”

  He reeled back. “What?”

  His shock must have been evident because she clutched at his arms, digging her nails into his flesh to help her leverage into a sitting position. “I arrested Jessica for murder and was transporting her and her sister. The sheriff from New Mexico intercepted us. Only…he’s not the sheriff.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, God. He killed my partner! And now he’s got the sisters again.”

  “Who? Who has the sisters?!”

  “Grant Wilson. Jessica’s husband. He’s alive.”

  Val released her and slowly sank back onto his heels, speechless. Caroline was not Caroline. Jess was still married and captured in the hands of her abuser. Jealous rage took hold of him, but it was followed swiftly by a heady sense of relief. If the man was still alive, then she wasn’t wanted for murder. There was no threat or warrant for her. He could kill Grant Wilson and the sisters could live their lives in peace.

  “You can’t win, Val,” Dot said, breaking up his thoughts. “There are five of them, well-armed. You can’t beat them on your own.”

  His resolve was firm and unbreakable. “Oh, I’ll win, and this time there’ll be no doubt the bastard is dead.”

  Dot’s eyes narrowed, strength and determination flooding into them. “If you’re going after them, I’m coming with you.”

  “No. You need to get to a doctor.”

  “You’ve stopped the bleeding. That’s all I’m worried about. I’ve got one arm good for shooting and you need all the help you can get.”

  Val hesitated, unsure, but she assuaged him with her next words.

  “I was trained for this. I’m a good shot. I’ve got Jessica’s gun, too. That’s three guns between us. The way I see it, that’s three dead men and a fighting chance at getting the other two. I’m coming with you.”

  He nodded and helped her to her feet. “Can you ride all right?”

  “To kill those bastards? You bet your ass I can.”

  Back in their saddles, Dot turned her horse around. “We’re close,” she said. “They’re heading toward the rock pile in the distance.”

  Val peered where she indicated. He knew the area. There was a tiny mountain, a heaping pile of large boulders. If they could make it to the field while Jess was still in the area, there would be plenty of cover. It might be easier to pick them off than he thought, spurring Achilles onward.

  Jess glared at Grant’s back while he led her horse through the desert. His four henchmen rode beside him. He’d spent the first twenty minutes of the ride tormenting her with threats and promises, come nightfall. When he turned his sadistic stares onto Marlena, Jess knew there was no way she could allow her to be with the group by the time they made camp. They would escape, or die trying.

  While Grant busied himself discussing the need to find water with his hired men, she eyed the rocks on her right. Marlena’s hands were still unbound, a fact Grant hadn’t noticed or thought to verify. She would use that to her advantage.

  “Marlena,” she whispered, almost as faint as the wind. “Can you hear me?” Marlena nodded at her back. “Do you think you can get the knot free on my bindings?”

  “I’ll try.”

  Jess held her hands to the side while Marlena’s tiny fingers worked in between the ropes. After several minutes, the knots loosened enough for Jess to pull her hands free. She took her first hopeful breath.

  “I want you to slide off of the back of the horse,” she told her sister. “Be as quiet as you can and go hide among the boulders.”

  “I’m not leaving you with him.”

  “I’ll follow you, I promise. You go first. Now. Quickly and quietly.”

  Marlena began to slide off of the horse’s rump, and Jess reached out to help her down. Once her feet were on the ground, they exchanged a nod and Marlena scampered off and disappeared into the boulder field. Jess blew a long, relieved breath. She prayed she’d be able to keep her promise to her sister but the most important thing was to draw the men away. So, she took a deep breath and dug her heels into the sides of the horse.

  The hard kick was unexpected and the horse bolted, yanking the reins out of Grant’s hands as she sprinted past him. She heard his screaming voice, urging the men after her as she stood in the stirrups and leaned forward, reaching for the reins. One hand gripped the saddle horn while the other stretched out. Her weight was far forward, one jolt or leap would unseat her, but soon her fingers clutched the left rein. She brought it up and wrapped it around the saddle horn to repeat the process on the right.

  With full control of the horse, she used the long lengths of leather to whip the horse’s hind quarters, urging him to greater speed. Shots blew behind her but were so off mark she didn’t fear them. Grant didn’t hunt her down for three years and ride out there just to kill her. No, he wanted her alive. The shots were meant to scare her, but they were impotent. She smiled at the realization that, for the first time in six years, she was not afraid of Grant Wilson. If she died, it would be on her terms. And if she lived, it would mean Grant was dead, because he’d never get her back to New Mexico alive.

  The horse beneath her snorted as bits of thick white foam gurgled from his mouth. He needed water. He needed to stop, but she couldn’t let him. Her survival depended on it. But when one of Grant’s bullets struck the horse’s leg, he collapsed beneath her and they both went down. She somersaulted a few times before leaping to her feet and running for the nearest cluster of boulders. They created a labyrinth of corridors and narrow spaces she traversed, hearing the men’s voices as they dismounted and set in after her.

  She picked up a rock, knowing if it came down to a fight, a rock was better than her fist. Confident she had managed to find a hideaway, she stopped to catch her breath and listened for sounds of their approach. She plastered her back against the boulder and waited.

  Voices echoed in all directions. Their frustration was growing. One of them neared her, and she slid back into a crevice, collapsing her body as much as possible to avoid being seen. She could only see the dirt floor and a pair of b
ooted feet circle the area before moving on. When the way was clear, she emerged, relieved to see she was alone.

  She turned and drew chest-to-chest with one of Grant’s men, gasping as her fist came up to hit him with the rock, but he grabbed her wrist before contact. He looked from the rock to her face and frowned as he clucked his tongue.

  “That’s a very naughty thing to do. Naughty girls get punished.”

  Jess threw her knee up into his groin and he growled, but he didn’t loosen his hold on her wrist. In fact, he squeezed harder, so hard she fell to her knees and feared her bones would snap. His other hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her back to her feet.

  “That’ll cost you, bitch!”

  A gunshot rang from nearby, bouncing off the walls around them and stalling the man from meting out his punishment. Jess strained to hear the source of the shot, but heard only silence. Her captor frowned.

  “Boss?! You all right?”

  There came no answer, so he drew his gun and held Jess before him as they made their way back through the maze of rock tunnels. When they emerged into the open desert again, a body lay before them. To her disappointment, it wasn’t Grant, but another of his minions. The man behind her tightened his grip and turned in a full circle, scanning the area for a threat.

  Suddenly, his chest lurched into her back and he gulped a breath before releasing her. She spun and saw a knife tip protruding from the left side of his chest. He fell forward and she stepped aside to let him, feeling her heart leap into her throat when Val stood behind him. Relief and some deeper emotion passed through his features, but he held a silencing finger to his lips and grabbed her hand, leading them to a boulder a short distance from the main cluster.

  Once they crouched behind it, she threw herself into his arms. He held her so fiercely she could scarcely breathe, but she didn’t care. She needed Val more than she needed breath. When she finally pulled back, he wasn’t looking at her. His face scanned the area.

  “Where’s Marlena?” he asked.