Tucker’s Claim

by Sarah McCarty

  The gunshots continued, thunder in her ears, joining the staccato chaos in her mind. The sound grew louder, overwhelming, echoing wildly as scenes flashed in her mind’s eye. Past. Present. Past. Shouts. Wild cries. Horses running past. White billowy tops of wagons glowing red in the setting sun, screams, gunshots, more screams. Oh God, so many screams.

  Mommy. Splinters jabbed her cheek as she pressed her face against the side of the wagon, just like before. She blinked at the flashes of memory. Her mother shoving her down into the secret compartment under the wagon, her blue eyes wide with fear. With an order to stay, she’d closed the lid.

  Oh my God, she remembered that. Her mother had told her to stay hidden, no matter what. And she had, the gun her father had given her in her hand, almost too big to lift. She hadn’t known what she was supposed to do with it, but she’d held it and she’d stayed, watching as the Indians slaughtered her family one by one. And she’d cowered, doing nothing as they’d died, clutching the gun she didn’t know how to fire, screaming in her mind, Mommy! Mommy! as her mother’s blood soaked her dress, the dirt…

  “Sally Mae. Sally Mae.”

  She blinked. Bella was in front of her, holding her shoulders, shaking her. “Are you all right?”

  She pushed the hair out of her eyes. “Yes.”

  Bella let her go and slowly leaned back. “You had me worried.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Around her the present-day battle still waged. To the left she could just see Tucker’s horse was lying on the ground. Behind him Tucker lay, gun propped on the well-trained horse’s side, using him as a shield as he fired shot after shot.

  “How many do you count, Sam?”

  Sam’s answer was lost in a volley of gunfire. She looked around. Two of the vaqueros were facedown, likely dead. That left eight. Six if she discounted the absent Shadow and Tracker. Six guns against, oh my God, she couldn’t tell how many.

  “How many are there?” she asked Zacharias as he reloaded.

  He shook his head. She didn’t for a minute believe he didn’t know, which must mean the answer was too many.

  “What are we going to do?”

  Bella glanced over from where she rummaged in a wood box that had been in the back of the wagon. She pulled out two pistols. She shoved one into Sally Mae’s hand. “Fight.”

  Sally Mae looked at the ridge around them. Everywhere she looked puffs of smoke indicated yet another gunman. “We can’t win.”

  “Then we will do much damage before we call it lost.” The other woman looked perfectly at home with the gun in her dainty hand. Beautiful, confident. Deadly. Capable of doing anything. Capable of committing murder. Sally Mae didn’t take it. She couldn’t. “I can’t.”

  Bella said something in her own language. “It is your man out there taking the bullets for you.”

  She looked. Tucker was positioned between them and the ridge. Anyone trying to get to her would have to go through him. “I know.”

  “He is willing to die for you,” Bella snapped, pushing the gun toward her. “What are you willing to do for him?”

  She could very easily die for Tucker, but kill for him? She just shook her head, not able to explain a life’s worth of beliefs. Zach swore and cut her a look of disgust. She wanted to rail at him, but then there was the sound of a horn that jerked all of their attention around. Crockett barked crazily, lunging against the rope that tied him to the wagon, turning back and snapping at it when it drew him up short. She looked up. Oh my God! Outlaws swarmed the ridge, coming out from behind the rocks. She quit counting at twenty. Twenty well-armed men. Killers. Every one. Rising out of the ground like Hades’ minions, guns pointed at them.

  “We only want the woman,” one of them called.

  They think she’s Ari.

  Her. They meant her. This was all about Ari. The sister to Caine’s wife. And they thought she was this Ari. And they were trying to kill her? That didn’t make sense.

  From behind them came the sound of a hammer being cocked. Heart in her throat, Sally Mae scooted up on her knees and turned. Two men stood half-shielded by a boulder. Even half-hidden she could tell they were dirty and ill kept. And even with her inexperience she knew with their guns trained on Zach, Bella and herself, they were out of options. She nudged Zach’s side. He swore. When prompted with a jerk of a rifle, he dropped his on the ground. Sally looked over her shoulder. She could just make out the leader’s head over the toppled wagon bed. He was watching her. She had to think fast. She could only see one path.

  “I’ll come out if thee let the others go,” she called to the leader.

  “What you’ll do is be quiet, Sally Mae.”

  She ignored Tucker. “But thee have to promise to let the others go.”

  The leader, a blond man with a big droopy mustache and a hat pulled low over his brow, flashed her rotten teeth in what she supposed was a smile. It was hard to tell with the mustache. “You have my word of honor.”

  Bella elbowed her in the side. “They have no honor.”

  She knew that.

  “Then we’ll have to hope that what I’m doing will give thee some time to get away.”

  “I can’t let you go out there, ma’am.”

  She looked at Zach. “Thee can’t stop me.”

  He grabbed her arm, his expression grim. “Watch me.”

  “Your first responsibility is to Bella.”

  “And I tell him to stop you.”

  She shook her head at Bella and jerked her arm free. “He won’t. He doesn’t have the right and thee need the chance.”

  “You step out and they will kill you.”

  She shook her head. That was one thing she was sure of. “No. If they’d been trying to kill me, about thirty of those bullets would have done their job by now.”

  “Maybe they are just lousy shots.”

  That defied logic. “Is anyone that bad in such large numbers?” she asked Zach.

  Grimacing, he shook his head. “Damn hard to believe they could be.”

  “Then I’m going to gamble I’m worth more alive than dead.”

  “Gamble on what?”

  “The fact that those two haven’t shot me, either.” She raised her hands and called, “I’m coming out.”

  “Goddamn it, Sally Mae, you stay where you are. No one is bargaining with anyone today.”

  She was. “It’s not thy call, Tucker.”

  “The hell it’s not.”

  “She’s not who you think she is,” Sam hollered to the bandit. “She’s not Ari.”

  “Don’t matter to me either way,” came the discouraging response. “If it’s decided she’s not who she’s supposed to be, then I’ll sell her. A little scrawny, but that blond hair will get me a good price.”

  Sell her. Oh God. Sally Mae put a hand to her stomach.

  “You’ll never collect it,” Tucker said with disconcerting calmness. Everything about him was calm, still, waiting, watching…

  “I think I will. I think I will even take the little brunette, too.”

  “The hell you will.”

  “What will stop me?”

  Sally Mae grabbed the pistol out of Bella’s hands and put the muzzle under her own chin. “I will.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Damn.”

  “No!”

  The last came from the leader. A heartening reaction. She focused her attention on him, blocking out all other distraction. “Thee need me alive, I believe.”

  “You won’t do it.”

  The barrel burned her skin. Certainty burned in her gut. “I will not allow thee to use me to hurt them.”

  “I think she means it, boss.”

  She did.

  “Do not do this, Sally Mae,” Bella begged.

  “I’ll be all right.” She took a step, knees quivering so badly she had to lock them to stay upright.

  Zach grabbed her arm. She shook her head at him. “If I go with them, I’m expecting thee to come after me. Thee will tell
Tucker I’ll be waiting.”

  “Señora, there is not going to be a piece of me left if I let you go out there.”

  A gun clicked on the ridge behind them. She had no doubt it was trained on Zach and Bella. The wagon no longer even provided cover.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she whispered, “but at this moment all their guns are trained on me?”

  “Yes?”

  “And as I move so does their attention?”

  Zach nodded, frowning as he understood her intent. “It’s not much of an advantage.”

  She licked her lips. They were dry as bone. So was her mouth, her throat, her whole being. This likely wasn’t going to end well. “It’s better than nothing.”

  “Estas loca.”

  The shaking was so bad she wasn’t sure she could even stand. “I prefer to think of myself as desperate.”

  Isabella reached into her skirts and pulled something out of the pocket before shoving it into Sally Mae’s pocket under the guise of a hug. The object was heavy and she had little doubt what it was. Another gun. She who never wanted to carry a gun now had two.

  “I will tell Tucker you wait,” Bella vowed.

  She nodded. “I thank thee.”

  She stepped around the edge of the wagon, for the first time having a clear view of everything. Behind her, Crockett barked wildly.

  Tucker was on his feet, his gun trained on the leader, his finger on the trigger white-knuckled with tension.

  She smiled at him. He didn’t smile back. “I’m gonna tan your ass when this is over, Sally Mae McCade.”

  She took a shaky breath and forced an equally shaky smile. “I will not even consider that violence.”

  She was taking a terrible risk. She knew it. Tucker and Sam stood ready, as did the Montoya vaqueros, watching for any opportunity. Dear God, she didn’t know how to provide it, but she had to.

  “You married to the skinny one?” the leader asked.

  Tucker looked at him. “This morning.”

  “Well, I’ll have to enjoy your wedding night for you.”

  Tucker’s response was a baring of his teeth that could nowhere near be called a smile. “You’re already a dead man. You won’t be enjoying anything.”

  The outlaw laughed. “What I am is going to be a very rich man.” He motioned to Sally Mae. “Come here.”

  Sally Mae followed the abrupt jerk of his hand. What choice did she have? Her threat to kill herself would only carry so far.

  One step, two steps, on the third the world spun. She had to stop, or fall down. Tucker made a move toward her. The bandit behind him brought his rifle down the middle of his back. He dropped to his knees. She lunged for him. A bullet between her feet stopped her dead. “Just keep coming the way you were.”

  She righted herself, closed her eyes and then opened them again. She still didn’t see any choice so she kept walking. Her breath wheezed in and out of her lungs. And with every step she got a better look at her captor. And with every step the temptation to pull the trigger grew. Evil. He was so evil.

  “No.” Soft and low, Bella’s voice reached her. “Not that way.”

  No. It wasn’t the way. But there had to be one. She had to think a way to change the odds. If only she knew where Tracker was. Where Shadow hid. Were they dead? If not, why hadn’t they done anything by now?

  She reached the leader. Immediately, he grabbed her arm, ripping the gun from her grasp before jerking her up against him. “I have a long-standin’ score with your husband. I’m gonna enjoy settling it.”

  “You promised.”

  “I lied. Though if you’re real nice to me, I might keep my word with the others, but he’s not going anywhere.”

  She turned her head. “Tucker.”

  “I told you, Sally Mae, to stay at the wagon.”

  Yes, he had, but staying in the wagon wouldn’t have given her any leverage. She put her hand in her pocket. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry, Ari. We’ll keep you busy enough you won’t miss the half-breed.”

  She shook her head. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the outlaw’s finger tightening on the trigger of the pistol pointed at Tucker. Oh, why didn’t he duck, run, do anything but stand there, daring the bandit to shoot him?

  Please, Lord, give me the strength.

  “Don’t make me do this,” she whispered.

  The bandit laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it.”

  No, she wouldn’t.

  “But first, this needs to be handled.”

  Yes, it did. Pointing the gun through her skirt, she pulled the trigger.

  The gun beside her head exploded in rapid succession to hers. The bandit stumbled back, clutching his stomach, staring at her in disbelief. Blood blossomed between his fingers, overflowing the constraint of his hands. Around her men dropped like flies, one after another to the rhythm of gunshots raining down from the ridge above.

  “About damn time Tracker and Shadow got into position,” she heard Sam call.

  Around her the battle resumed, this time with the odds evened out, but for her the only battle that mattered was the one before her.

  “You shot me,” the leader gasped.

  She nodded, unable to look away from the blood.

  “Didn’t think you had it in you,” he groaned as his knees buckled. She caught him, easing him to the ground.

  “Get the hell away from him, Sally Mae.”

  She ignored Tucker’s order. “Neither did I.”

  His eyes narrowed and blood frothed on his lips. “Never read anyone wrong. My…first.”

  And last. Because of her.

  “Thee should make thy peace with God.”

  “Too late.” He coughed and choked. Blood coated his teeth, dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

  “God always listens.”

  On a last choking cough, the life left his eyes. Around her the battle was fought with guns and bullets. Inside her, it raged with tears and recriminations. Past. Present. Inaction action. Her mother’s screams. Tucker’s curse. Blood. The ever-present blood. Damned if she did. Damned if she didn’t. Damned. Reaching over, she closed the outlaw’s eyes, before wrapping her hands around her stomach and vomiting.

  Tucker dropped the three bandits closest to him as they turned to fire at Tracker before he could pick them off. The ones that had a shot at Sally Mae. Before the last one hit the ground, he was at Sally’s side. “Goddamn it, moonbeam, you pull a stunt like that again and you won’t sit for a week.”

  He could have saved himself the breath. She wasn’t looking at him, just the dead man, her lips moving rhythmically. Was she praying?

  He shook her gently, his voice a hell of a lot harsher than his grip. “Sally Mae!”

  Tracker came racing down the ridge, rifle propped on his thigh. Hell, now what?

  “Trouble’s coming,” Sam said, putting into words what everyone knew. Tracker didn’t risk a horse for anything less.

  Tucker shook Sally Mae again. “Moonbeam, snap out of it.” She didn’t respond to a direct order while in shock any better than she did in real life. She just kept staring at the man she’d killed. Her face pasty-white, her lips parted, her breath coming in shallow pants as she mumbled words he couldn’t understand.

  Tracker pulled his horse up. “Comanches three miles out.”

  “Shit.”

  Shadow rode out from around a rockfall. “No way they didn’t hear the gunshots.”

  No, there wasn’t.

  Crockett came running up, jumping on Sally Mae and kissing her face. Tucker pushed him away. He turned on the dead outlaw, growling. Wood groaned and metal clanked as Zach and his men heaved the wagon back upright. Some curses in Spanish said all he needed to know about that situation.

  “Axle’s broke,” Zach called.

  “The wagons are too slow anyway,” Shadow offered.

  Tracker pulled his hat down. “We’re going to need to ride fast to outdistance the Comanches.”


  “Comanches…” Bella reached out to Sam. He caught her hand in his and brought her fingers to his lips.

  “No worries, Bella.”

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  “We don’t have time to coddle her,” Shadow said, jerking his chin at Sally Mae.

  Goddamn it. Tucker knew that, but he wanted to. He wanted to wrap Sally Mae in cotton wool and keep her safe forever. He didn’t want—he looked around at the blood, violence, her pale face—this. He’d never wanted this for her.

  “We’ll take the women up ahead of us on the horses.”

  Zacharias walked over, his spurs clinking with every step. “My men and I will stay behind and greet our new friends.”

  It was a generous offer.

  “Four vaqueros against—” he looked at Tracker “—how many are there?”

  “Ten. Those aren’t good odds.”

  Zach smiled. “Sí, the Comanches have much to fear.”

  And maybe they did. The Montoya Ranch was not only in the middle of Comanche country, it was also in the middle of the disputed area between Texas and Mexico. The area was filled with bandits, rattlesnakes, Indians and bad weather. And these men were at home with all four, had cut their teeth fighting just such odds. Maybe they’d survive. Running his finger down Sally Mae’s cheek, Tucker sighed. Regardless, it was an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  “Thank you.”

  “De nada.”

  It wasn’t nothing, it was a chance.

  “Is the baby all right?” Bella asked, breaking into the moment.

  Tucker hoped so, but how could he tell? Goddamn, it might be a good time to pick up that praying Sally Mae was fond of. He forced a smile. “Gonna take more than a little bit of a ruckus to jostle my son from his resting place.”