Outlaw's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

  Rob and the others raced down the trail, trying to keep Alyssa and Slade in sight. They feared they would disappear beneath the torrent before they could catch up to them, and they did. Tom from their view by the rushing waters, Slade and Alyssa disappeared in the thundering river.

  Slade was pummeled by the rocky riverbed as he was washed downstream. Bruised and battered, he clung to the hope that eventually he'd get close enough to shore so he could get his footing and climb out. With his hands bound, though, it was appearing more and more hopeless. There was no way he could swim and save himself He choked as he was dragged under again, and he struggled with all his might just to keep his head above water.

  Alyssa fought the current as she swam toward Slade. She knew he was going to drown unless she could get to him and help him in some way. The current was vicious and unforgiving, slamming her against the submerged rocks, but still she kept on. Never before in her life had she appreciated the fact that she'd learned how to swim, but she did now.

  It was growing so dark that she could barely make him out ahead of her in the rapid flow. She struck out toward him, but then he disappeared beneath the water again, and she knew she had to hurry. It was pure luck that brought her nearer to him when he surfaced, fighting for breath and weak from the struggle.

  Alyssa wanted to shout to Slade that she was almost there, but she couldn't waste the energy. It would take all her strength just to make her way toward him. With one lunge, she managed to touch his shoulder, but he slipped from her grip before she could get a firm hold on him.

  "Don't try!" he managed. "I'll only pull you down-"

  She heard him, but ignored his warning as she swam toward him again. This time she grabbed his shirt just as he went under. The current pulled them both down, but she kicked fiercely and fought her way back to the surface. Gasping for breath, she somehow managed to get his head above water. She linked her arm around his neck as she struck out for the shore.

  "Kick if you can!" was all she could choke out.

  The current had not lessened. Despite their efforts, they were swept along at breakneck speed, down the canyon away from the others and off into the growing darkness of the coming night.

  Rob was devastated. Alyssa and Slade were gone. As night fell, he and Brown ceased their headlong chase and doubled back to where they'd left Hawkins guarding the prisoners. Rob was silently praying that Alyssa and Slade had made it to safety, but he feared the worst.

  "Where are they?" Hawkins yelled as he saw them approaching. He'd kept the prisoners moving, following Brown and the sheriff to help if they could.

  The rain was still pouring down, the cloud cover making the night even darker than normal.

  "We couldn't catch up to them. I'm afraid they're lost!" Rob answered as he reached them.

  Hawkins couldn't believe what had happened. Lightning cracked high above them again, reminding them of the severity of the storm.

  "Let's get out of here. Maybe Alyssa made it to the riverbank farther downstream, and we'll be able to find her in the morning," Hawkins said, not wanting to consider the possibility that she might have drowned.

  Brown gave him a disbelieving look. "In this current? Hell, she's probably dead already... Braxton, too."

  Nash and Johnson didn't say anything. Though they thought Slade a coward, they hoped he'd survived. If he was smart, he'd let the deputies think he was dead, and then come back and rescue them. As for the lady judge, they hoped she'd met a miserable end. It was what she deserved, and her death would leave them with one less gun to worry about.

  Huddling down against the continuing rain, they traveled on through the night. They hoped Sheriff Emerson found a place to camp soon. They'd had enough riding and excitement for the day.

  The rocks scraped at Alyssa's legs as she tried to paddle toward where she thought the bank was. It was next to impossible to see anything in the darkness, and she was growing weary of fighting. Time and again the current threatened to pull her under, yet somehow, she resisted its deadly grip. Clutching Slade, frantic to save him and herself, she continued her struggle to survive. She refused to die this way!

  A rock loomed just ahead of her and off to the side. Her anger gave her the strength she needed to make the final, desperate lunge for it. She had to let go of Slade to do it, but as she grabbed the sturdy boulder that could save them, she positioned herself to snare him again as the current swept him past her. It took all her flagging strength to get a grip on his shirt again. With one last herculean effort, she managed to drag him toward her, out of the main force of the water's flow.

  Alyssa collapsed back against the rock. She was still half in the river and had to take care to keep Slade's head above water. She knew she should be afraid that he might regain consciousness and overpower her, but right then, she didn't care. She was too exhausted to fight anymore-either the river or him.

  The water's chill had numbed her, and in a way she was grateful that she could feel nothing. As soon as dawn came and with it the warmth of a new day, she knew she would be in pain, for she was certain she was bruised and bleeding. Right now, though, that wasn't important. They were out of the current, and she'd saved Slade. That was enough.

  Alyssa remained where she was, resting, until a long time later when she started to shiver uncontrollably. She knew she had to get out of the water completely to be safe, so she struggled toward the bank, hauling Slade with her. As the water grew shallower and the tug of the current lessened, she almost collapsed. Slade was a big man, and once they were out of the deeper water, she could barely move him. She didn't give up until she'd dragged him partially up onto the rocky river bank, though. Only then did she allow herself to collapse. Falling to the ground beside his still form, she couldn't summon the strength to move any farther.

  Slade regained consciousness slowly. His last coherent memory was of Alyssa crying out as she started to fall from her horse into the river. He vaguely remembered losing his own seat as he tried to reach for her and being washed away toward a looming boulder. He had no real recollection after that, but judging from the way he felt, he was certain he'd lost the battle with the rock.

  Slade wondered why he was still alive. The current had been the worst he'd ever fought in his life. Yet he was alive. There was no doubt about that. If he'd died, he wouldn't have been in such pain. Every inch of his body felt as if he'd been bludgeoned, and his head was throbbing. He started to lift one hand to his head and was jarred back to reality at the biting tug of the handcuffs. Lifting both hands to his forehead, he flinched in pain. When he drew them away, they were covered with blood-proof that, indeed, the boulder had won.

  Slade struggled to sit up, wondering how he'd gotten to the bank and wondering how he'd managed to survive. It was dark and the rain was continuing, but it did seem to be letting up a little. Not that staying dry mattered after his swim ...As he pushed himself to a sitting position, his head reeled and pain sliced through him. It was then that he saw her.

  Alyssa was lying beside him, and she was so quiet that he feared she was dead.

  "Alyssa!" he groaned.

  He forced himself to move and painfully crawled the short distance to her side.

  In the darkness, it was difficult to discover her condition. Slade leaned over her, wanting to make sure she was breathing. His concern was only for her wellbeing. He forgot that he was a wanted man. He forgot that his cover was so good that even a fair-minded sheriff had been convinced of his evil ways. He thought only that she was hurt, and he had to help her.

  Kneeling beside her, Slade gently brushed a lock of wet hair from her face and tenderly touched a bruise that was already beginning to discolor her pale forehead. He leaned closer, whispering her name.

  "Alyssa..."

  "What...?" She heard his voice as if from a great distance and stirred, opening her eyes to find Slade leaning over her.

  A surge of joy welled up inside him as he realized that she was coming around. It ended abruptly, though, whe
n he felt the dig of her gun in his ribs.

  "Back off," Alyssa said in a hoarse voice as she pressed the gun even harder against him for emphasis.

  And Slade did, sitting back a short distance away from her.

  "You're alive-"

  "And if I wasn't, you were going to finish off the job, right?" she accused him.

  He weakly rested his head in his hands. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm him, and his stomach was churning in rebellion over the river water he'd swallowed.

  "Actually, I was worried about you."

  Alyssa would have laughed, but she felt too miserable. "Don't concern yourself."

  He fell silent. It hurt too much to talk, and he certainly wasn't up to an argument.

  Alyssa sat up, gun still in hand, ready for any sudden, threatening moves from him. She didn't know what stroke of fate had brought her to this momentalone and abandoned, on foot in the wilderness with the man who'd killed her father-but here she was. As she thought about it, she realized it was her own fault. She'd convinced Rob to bring her along, and she'd convinced herself she could handle any situation that might arise. So far, she'd failed miserably. Now was the time for her to prove she could do it. She had to take charge. She had to bring the prisoner back in.

  There was no telling what kind of trouble she might run into trying to locate Rob and the others, but she'd worry about that later. Right now, it was too dark to go anywhere. She needed daylight to traverse this terrain, and it was just past sundown. A long, dark night of keeping Braxton at bay loomed ahead of her.

  "We'd better see if there's some place around here to sit out the night."

  She forced herself to stand and swayed slightly as she got her balance. As much as she hated to admit it, she was glad Slade was in worse shape than she was. If he'd come out of this unharmed, it would have been easy for him to overpower her and disarm her. Because of his injuries, she still had the drop on him, and she thanked heaven for that. She didn't like wishing pain on anyone, but having him partially incapacitated and handcuffed helped her.

  "You wouldn't consider shooting these cuffs off me, would you?" he asked, peering up at her in the darkness. He could just barely make out her grim, determined expression. "I didn't think so."

  "You're smarter than I thought you were," she said sarcastically.

  "I'll take that as a compliment."

  "You can take it any way you like. But let's move. There's no sense sitting here in the pouring rain. Let's go find some shelter."

  He considered trying to take the gun away from her, but quickly gave up the notion. They weren't going anywhere, and as jumpy as she was right nowlike a half-broken filly-she just might shoot him. He felt bad enough as it was. He didn't need a gunshot wound, too.

  The going was not easy as Alyssa and Slade made their way along the riverbank in the rain. Slade was leading the way with Alyssa following, her gun in hand. Weak, battered and bloodied though he might be, she didn't trust him, and she had no intention of giving him the chance to escape.

  "It looks like there might be something up ahead," Slade called over his shoulder after they'd been walking for some time. There appeared to be the entrance to a cave or at least a protective overhang.

  Alyssa offered up a silent hallelujah and trailed him through the rocks and heavy brush to the haven. It wasn't a cave. It was more like a naturally scoopedout den of sorts, but she didn't care. At least they would be out of the storm's wrath for a while.

  "Let me go in first and make sure it's safe," he offered.

  "Just remember I've got the gun and I'm not afraid to use it," she returned. Rob had told her how cunning Braxton was. She would not allow herself to be fooled by anything he said or did.

  Slade understood her caution, so he moved with deliberate care, not wanting to scare her with any sudden, unexpected actions. He had to stoop down to enter the retreat, and he half-crawled inside. The shelter wasn't much, but it was definitely better than spending the night trekking across rough terrain in miserable weather.

  "Come on in," he told her when he'd made sure there were no snakes or other creatures that might not welcome their intrusion.

  "All right. But you get on the far side, over there, so I don't have to worry."

  When he'd done as she'd ordered, Alyssa made her way into the haven. Slade was sitting with his back braced against the opposite wall. She took a seat near the opening, so she could keep some small distance between them. She wanted to have time to fire if he decided to attack her.

  "I never thought sitting on rocks could feel as good as an overstuffed sofa, but they do right now," she said with a low groan as she allowed herself to relax a bit.

  "At least it's dry in here," he added wryly. He almost smiled, but his head hurt too much. His jaw clenched as he fought to control the throbbing pain.

  "Let's hope it stays that way."

  "If the rain was going to come in, it would have done it by now. We should be safe for the rest of the night. All that's left to do is get comfortable, get some sleep and wait for daylight."

  "You go right ahead." She sat straighter, deliberately not making herself too comfortable. She tightened her grip on her gun.

  "I will," he said, shifting positions. "I didn't get any sleep at all last night. Nash and Johnson weren't too happy with the way things turned out, and being handcuffed together like we were, it was impossible to get any rest."

  "Sometimes life is rough," she said with little sympathy. If he wasn't a killer, he wouldn't have been there in the first place.

  She fell silent as she began to unbraid her hair. It would dry more quickly if the thick, wet tresses were unbound. She combed her fingers through it, wishing she had a brush. But that wish was as far from being fulfilled as her hope for a warm bath.

  Slade had meant to close his eyes and try to sleep, but as he watched her free her pale mane from its confinement, he found himself mesmerized. No longer did she appear the gun-toting judge; she'd transformed herself into the intoxicating woman he'd held in his arms that night of the dance.

  "You should wear your hair down all the time," Slade said.

  She ignored his comment.

  "You look very pretty that way."

  Alyssa said nothing in response. She would not al low herself to be affected by anything this man said or did.

  "Why haven't you married? Were you too busy studying the law to realize you were turning into an old maid?" he asked, being deliberately provocative.

  She stifled a gasp at his obnoxious comments. "Perhaps I'm an old maid, as you so candidly put it, because I choose to be."

  "Pity."

  "I thought you were going to sleep." She was terse, wanting to discourage any further conversation with him.

  He managed a half-grin at her display of temper. "I plan on it. But first, there was something I wanted to tell you." He sat up and leaned slightly toward her.

  His movement made Alyssa nervous and she pinned him with a challenging glare as she pointed the gun straight at the middle of his chest. "Yes?"

  He did not back down from her unspoken threat. Instead, he looked straight into her eyes as he spoke. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life. It would have been very easy for you to have let me drown out there. No one would have been the wiser, and there probably would have been some celebrating at the news."

  "I don't doubt it."

  "Well, thank you."

  She wondered at his ploy, trying to figure out what he was up to. She glared at him, sure that he was planning some kind of deception. "You're alive and well, so don't make me think I made a mistake."

  She was one spirited woman. He managed a smile, but she didn't respond.

  "What would your father think about your being in this position?"

  At the mention of her father, she was immediately furious. "Don't you dare even speak of my father! You're not good enough to say his name!"

  He understood her anger, but wanted to know more. "What kind of man was he?"

&nb
sp; "Nothing like you!" she said coldly as she aimed the gun at Slade's heart. "Besides, what do you care about my father? You're the one who killed him!"

  Slade studied her. "What if I told you that I didn't shoot him, that your eyewitness is lying?"

  "I'd say you were every bit as miserable and rotten as the sheriff told me you were."

  "If I told you the truth, would you even listen?" he countered sharply.

  "I'm as fair as my father was. I go by the letter of the law. Witnesses saw you with the gang, robbing the bank. One man saw you shoot my father down in cold blood. I bound you over for trial on the basis of evidence presented against you at the hearing. Now it's up to a judge and jury in Green River. They can decide who's lying and who's telling the truth."

  Slade was quiet for a minute as he debated whether to take the chance and tell her everything. He probably wouldn't get another opportunity. He was certain that the sheriff and his deputies were scouring the countryside looking for them right now. There was no way he could reveal his true identity in front of Nash and Johnson, and he couldn't be sure Ken would show up in time to save him from hanging. He had to find someone who would be willing to wire Denver for him and verify his story. He hoped that person was Alyssa.

  "If you're as fair and just as you say you are, then you'll listen to what I have to say."

  Alyssa turned an icy regard on him, but she didn't invite any further discussion.

  "I tried to tell your precious sheriff the truth when he first brought me in, but he didn't believe me. All it got me was a beating in his back room. There's something you need to know-I am not who and what you think I am."

  Alyssa couldn't believe he was going to try to lie his way into her good graces. "Save your breath, Braxton. I know all about you."

  "What do you know?" he demanded.

  "I know that you're a sly, conniving liar."

  "Listen to me," he snarled, interrupting her. "I'm an undercover Pinkerton agent."

  "Oh, please..." she scoffed, her eyes widening at the magnitude of his lie.