Outlaw's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

  She was carrying a weapon and that surprised him. He wondered how many facets there were to this woman who'd so intrigued him. First, she'd seemed an enchantress, beautiful and elusive. Then he'd discovered she was a prim-and-proper, no-nonsense judge, and now, it seemed she could handle a sidearm as well. He wondered which woman she really was.

  Alyssa looked up at Slade just then, and their gazes met. Taking care to stay in character, Slade gave her a slow, seductive smile.

  "Pity."

  "What is?" Rob asked.

  "That she's not the entertainment for the night."

  Alyssa bit back a gasp, keeping tight control over her reaction to him and to his words. She would not give him that power over her. Standing this close to him, she could see the dark shadow of his beard on his lean jaw, the slight sardonic twist to his lips and the challenging spark in his gaze. His shoulders were broad and powerful. She remembered all too clearly how it had felt to be held in his arms, but that had been when she'd thought him a gentleman. Now she knew better. Now she knew him for what he really was. She was tempted to step back, to distance herself from him, but she stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated.

  "I think you're going to be very entertained tonight, Mr. Braxton," she ground out, angry with him and herself for the conflicting feelings he aroused in her. "An all-night ride should keep you quite occupied."

  "An all-night ride?" Slade repeated in a low, suggestive voice, and his gaze darkened as he considered the double meaning of his words.

  Alyssa couldn't stop the slow heat that crept into her face as she realized what he was referring to. She decided to ignore his crudeness. `That's right."

  "Too bad you're not going on the ride with us," Johnson leered.

  "Oh, but I am," she declared. "I intend to see you three all the way to Green River."

  Slade frowned at the news. The sheriff had to be out of his mind to let her ride along. It was pure stupidity. No one knew what the Kid might try while they were on the trail, and she'd be caught right in the middle of it. Determined to convince her to stay behind, he gave her another meaningful look, "We're going to have a lot of nights out on the trail then. You sure you're up to it?"

  Alyssa stiffened this time at his insinuation and tightened her grip on the rifle she was holding. "I'm up to anything the three of you might try."

  "Anything?" Johnson taunted.

  "Anything," she answered.

  "Let's get out of here," Rob said, wanting to end the exchange right then and there, before the outlaws grew too crude in their remarks. "The horses should be out back by now. Let's go."

  He unlocked the cell door and kept his gun ready as he directed them out the back door and into the alley behind the jail. As he'd promised, Ursino was there with their horses, as were the other deputies. All were heavily armed and ready to ride. Alyssa went around the building to get Spartan and rode back to join the group of riders.

  "Be careful," Rob told them quietly, hoping all would go well for them.

  "We will," Hawkins promised.

  "Alyssa, you take care." He went to stand beside her.

  "You, too. Catch up with us as soon as you can. We'll be watching for you."

  "I will."

  With that, they rode quietly from the alley and disappeared into the night.

  Rob went back inside and locked up again. He settled in at his desk, acting as if nothing had changed. He hoped there would be no trouble.

  Nash and Johnson shared a knowing look as Black Springs disappeared from view. Soon the Kid would come and rescue them. The thought buoyed their otherwise grim spirits. They glanced over at Slade, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he was as glad as they were to be out of that cell and on the move, but as usual, the other gunman's expression was inscrutable. He betrayed none of his inner feelings.

  They'd been riding for over an hour when Johnson finally spoke up. "When are we stopping for the night?" He wanted to move as slowly as possible to give the Kid time to locate them and work out a plan to free them.

  "We're not stopping at all, unless you've got a real hankering to be the main attraction at a necktie party," Hawkins told him sarcastically.

  "You think they'd chase us this far out of town?" Nash asked. His injured shoulder was paining him, and he would have liked to make camp for the night.

  "The ones who might cause the trouble were a bunch of drunks. They didn't want to wait for you to have a jury trial. They wanted you to hang. Who knows what lengths they might go to if they got in the mood to see someone swing tonight?"

  Nash grunted in acknowledgment and tried to ignore the pain from his wound. At least, as long as he was in pain, he knew he was alive.

  Alyssa rode in silence, her rifle safely in its scabbard, her handgun ready should she need it. The moonlight provided enough light for them to make good time, and she was glad for that.

  Slade Braxton was riding directly in front of her. She tried to ignore him and the way he rode easily in the saddle, as if he were born to it. She reminded herself again that the witness in town had claimed he was the one who'd shot her father. It didn't matter that something about Slade attracted her. He was a killer. The man who'd lived briefly in her fantasy didn't exist. She had to remember that.

  Alyssa silently prayed for the hours and miles to pass quickly, and she concentrated on staying alert and watchful. The trip was going to be a long, tedious one, but in the end it would be worth it.

  It was long after midnight when emotions reached a fever pitch in Black Springs. The men from the High Noon and the Royal Straight were determined to replace the slow court system with justice of their own making. Guns in hand, the drunken vigilantes quit the saloons and banded together in the street to advance on the jail. They knew guards were stationed around town, but they figured no one would think members of the Dakota Kid's gang were worth dying for. They expected little resistance from Sheriff Emerson or his deputies.

  Rob heard the warning shouted from one of the building's guards, and he grabbed his loaded shotgun and strode out of the jail. What he saw approaching was worse than he'd expected. The entire street was filled with men, all intent on getting their hands on his prisoners.

  "Hold it right there!" Rob ordered, holding his shotgun up for all to see.

  "We ain't here to hurt you, Sheriff. We just want to get Braxton and the others and show 'em what happens to their kind here in our town!" the selfappointed leader of the rowdy crowd shouted.

  "You're going to have to go through me to get them, Meyers!" Rob yelled back, recognizing Cam Meyers as the spokesman.

  "We don't want trouble with you. We just want to see the killers pay for what they've done."

  "You will, just as soon as the trial takes place in Green River. I got a wire from Judge Banks a little over an hour or so ago, telling me he was all set to hold the trial just as soon as all the witnesses were there."

  "We don't care about no trial!"

  "We want justice!"

  "So do I, but there is no justice in mob rule."

  "We want an eye for an eye!"

  They started forward en masse. This time, Rob lifted his shotgun and fired a round off high over their heads.

  The boom of the gunshot shocked many of them. They fell back a few steps, arguing among themselves about what they should do. Once again, they decided to overrun the jail.

  "I don't want anyone to die, but if you try to come in here, I will fire into the crowd, and I won't care who I hit!" Rob told them. "And neither will my deputies!"

  "Step aside, Emerson!"

  "There'll be no lynchings in my town. Go home and sleep it off!"

  They surged toward him again, testing him, daring him to use deadly force. Even though some of them might wind up injured or dead, they were too drunk to care. They wanted a hanging.

  Rob was trapped as they advanced on him. There was no way for him to win. If he fired on them as he'd threatened to do, someone would surely die. If he stepped aside, they would
learn the truth about the prisoners. It would be far too soon to suit him, but at least his men had a few hours' head start.

  "Don't shoot!" he called out to his deputies.

  They did not fire as the drunks took their weapons. Instead, they stood aside while the mob overran the jail.

  "Where are they?" Meyers demanded, when he discovered that the killers were already gone.

  "On their way to Green River. They've been gone for hours. You'll never catch up with them."

  The mob was angry and frustrated. They were cursing loudly as they abandoned the jail and returned to the saloons to drown their frustration in more liquor.

  When they'd gone, Rob and his deputies stood alone in the office.

  "Thank God we got the prisoners out of here when we did," he said wearily.

  "And nobody got hurt," Connors added, thinking how differently things might have turned out had they not sent the prisoners on ahead.

  "What are you going to do about this in the morning when everybody's sobered up?" Drake asked.

  Rob shook his head as he all but collapsed back into his desk chair. "Same as I planned all along. I'm going to ride out after Hawkins and catch up with them on the trail."

  "Don't you want us to arrest Meyers and some of the others who were riling them up the most?"

  "No. There was no real harm done just a few tense moments. We outsmarted them, though. That's all that matters. I'm just glad the men decided to keep drinking, instead of going after the outlaws. If they'd decided to do that, I don't think we could have stopped them even if we'd wanted to."

  The deputies were silent in their agreement.

  "I think you boys can go on home now. The rest of the night should be real quiet."

  It was in the early morning hours when Red Parsons reached the hidden campsite where he knew the Kid and Zeke would be waiting for him.

  "Where are they?" the Dakota Kid asked, stepping out from behind a boulder, his rifle in hand, as Red rode in alone.

  Zeke, too, had been keeping watch, and he appeared nearby.

  "They're on their way to Green River," Red answered as he reined in and dismounted. He wasn't the least surprised to find that they'd had their guns on him as he'd approached the camp.

  The Kid wasn't a physically powerful man. Thin and wiry, he stood just under six feet tall. But he was smart, and that was why Red rode with him. There wasn't anybody in the territory good enough or fast enough to bring the Kid in, not even Sheriff Emerson-for all that the lawman had been trying real hard.

  "What happened? I thought for sure they'd hold them over in Black Springs for at least a week." The Kid was disgusted at this news, for he'd already been formulating a plan to break them out of the jail there.

  "Emerson must have figured trouble was brewing in town, so he got them out of there real fast," Red explained as they moved to sit by the small campfire. He noticed that the Kid was still limping heavily. "How's your leg doing?"

  "It's sore as hell, but I'll live," he growled. During the ambush in the canyon, he'd taken a bullet in the thigh. They'd managed to dig it out before Red had ridden into Black Springs, but the Kid was still favoring the limb and cursing the deputy who'd gotten lucky with his shot. "What did you hear while you were in town?"

  "I was drinking in the saloon, trying to find out what was going on. There was a bunch of drunks wanting to string them up right then and there. They finally got their guns and went to the jail to face down the sheriff. I went with them as part of the crowd. I thought if they did break them out, I could figure out a way to rescue them and get them out of town before they got hanged."

  "You mean some drunks tried to overrun the jail?"

  "Tried to? Hell, they did it."

  "What did that Emerson do?" He hated the sheriff of Black Springs with a growing passion.

  "He tried to back them down, but when they came at him, he didn't shoot or anything. He just stepped aside. He told his deputies not to shoot and to turn over their weapons."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Yeah. The drunks nearly tore the place apart looking for our boys. They weren't too pleased when they found out that they were already gone, but I was glad. The thought of trying to get Nash, Johnson and Slade away from fifty or sixty drunks who wanted to see them hanged real fast-" Red shook his head, glad that he'd been spared the necessity of trying to break them free of the mob all by himself.

  "So, how many guards went with them on the trip to Green River?"

  "I don't know. They were long gone by the time we showed up."

  The Kid was thoughtful. "We'll ride after them at dawn. Maybe we'll have better luck finding them on the trail than your friends in Black Springs did finding them in jail."

  "They weren't no friends of mine. That was an ugly crowd. I was glad to get out of there in one piece."

  The Kid smiled thinly, wishing ill will on Emerson. "I bet that sheriff was, too. Too bad they didn't take some of their anger out on him."

  "I know," Red agreed, thinking how clever the lawman had been to accurately judge the mood of the town. "You sure you're feeling good enough to ride out so soon?"

  "I can live with it. We gotta find them before they reach Green River. It'll be our best chance of freeing them."

  They settled in for what was left of the night.

  The Kid did not sleep, though. He was too busy trying to think of ways to outwit the deputies who were guarding his men. There were only the three of them to pull it off, but he'd always considered himself smarter than any ten lawmen around. He just had to find the right place and the right time, and he would save the boys.

  The Kid knew how being locked up must be affecting Johnson. He'd known Johnson since he was just a boy. He was as close to family as he had. He would not stand by and let anything happen to him.

  He respected Nash, too. He was loyal and fast with a gun. Though Nash was hot-tempered, the Kid had always known he could trust him.

  He was proud to have Slade Braxton in his gang. Slade was the only man he knew who was colder than himself. The other gunfighter had nerves of steel and the guts to match. He would find a way to save all three of them from hanging.

  Thoughts of the men who'd been killed in the ambush troubled the Kid. He was going to miss them. He didn't like the fact that Emerson had come that close to trapping him. Somehow, he was going to find a way to pay the lawman back.

  As the eastern sky lightened, the Kid was already up and saddling his horse. They rode for Green River before full daylight had claimed the land.

  Hawkins was still leading the way as the new day dawned. They had stopped only a few times during the night, for he had been intent on putting as many miles between themselves and Black Springs as he could. Now, with the advent of daylight, he picked up their pace. He was tense and on edge. The Dakota Kid could be anywhere around, watching them, waiting for the right time to attack. The darkness had been their friend, but daylight was their enemy. At midmorning one of the other deputies finally convinced him to stop.

  Alyssa had kept up with their grueling pace without complaint. If the men could do it, so could she. She understood their concerns about reaching Green River as quickly as possible, and she would not cause them any trouble. Though Spartan was weary and she was exhausted, she said nothing. She would match them mile for mile.

  "We'll stop here for a while. Let's rest the horses and eat," Hawkins called out as they reached an open area where they could keep an easy watch on their surroundings.

  Clemans and Ursino took first guard over the prisoners, while Alyssa joined Hawkins and Brown, eating a light, cold meal. It wasn't much, but it helped revive her.

  "You doing all right?" Hawkins asked, eyeing her skeptically. He had been less than enthusiastic about her riding with them, but he'd had no authority to override the sheriff. It didn't matter to him that she was the one who'd alerted them to the possible lynch ing. She was just a woman and shouldn't be involved in these things.

  "I'm fine," she told
him, sensing how he felt about her and refusing to give him any reason to criticize her. "I wonder how things went in town last night."

  "It'll be interesting to see what Sheriff Emerson has to say when he catches up with us," Brown remarked.

  "I hope he didn't have any trouble, but the talk I heard was pretty ugly," she said.

  "Yeah, me, too. If we'd waited much longer, we might not have had any prisoners left alive to take to trial," Hawkins said.

  "So you're all heroes?" Johnson taunted. "You saved our lives, so we should be grateful to you?"

  Hawkins turned a deadly glare on him. "Damned straight, Johnson. You'd probably be a dead man right now if we hadn't got you out of town."

  "I'll remember to have the Kid thank you when he comes for us," Nash said with a sneering smile.

  "I wouldn't put too much hope in being rescued," Hawkins told him. "I'd just as soon shoot you as let the Kid free you."

  Johnson and Nash glared at the deputy. "You'd have shot us the other day if the sheriff had given you the chance."

  "That's right," he said coldly. "And you'd do well to remember that."

  Slade looked on without making any comment. He'd been watching the guards, keeping track of who seemed the sharpest. He was trying to judge their chances of escaping the deputies without the Kid's help. It didn't look good. The handcuffs were trouble enough, but just trying to get a gun away from one of the deputies was going to be next to impossible. He ate the cold, tasteless food they gave him and wondered where Ken Richards was.

  As Slade sat lost deep in thought, his gaze drifted to Alyssa. She was standing and stretching, and he knew she had to be feeling the effects of long hours in the saddle. She'd wanted an all-night ride, and she'd gotten it.

  "You think she's good-lookin', Slade?" Nash asked, following the direction he was looking.

  "Not particularly. I was just thinking how she'd gotten her all-night ride," he said, watching her as she walked away out of earshot.

  "Don't think she enjoyed it."

  "Damn right. We sure could have shown her a better time," Johnson added with a leering smile.