by Bobbi Smith
Painted Horse backed silently away. He was ready to meet the rest of his raiding party and attack.
Glynna's mood was quiet as she packed up the last of her painting supplies. She paused to take one final look at the canyon. The view was as majestic as Tom had said it would be. She had been painting continuously since they'd reached the lookout point that morning, and she was pleased with the results. As breathtaking as the scene was, though, she was sure that some New Yorkers would think it was her imagination, and not nature, that had provided the panorama.
It was not her painting, though, that caused her mood to be so thoughtful. It was knowing that the next day they would be returning to Dry Creek and would soon be catching a stage out of town. She would be leaving the Rocking M, and Hunt McAllister, forever.
Glynna had told herself repeatedly that she was being absolutely ridiculous. Even so, she wondered why she found herself almost constantly thinking of the man. Why couldn't she get Hunt out of her thoughts? She was only tormenting herself. Hunt had made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with her. She had no doubt whatsoever that he would be glad to see the last of her.
"Glynna? Are you ready to move on to another site?" Mimi called to her from where she stood by the packhorse.
Jarred from her thoughts, Glynna turned away from the beauty of the wilderness to join her aunt. I m coming.
It was as she looked in Mimi's direction that she saw the attackers renegades riding straight for them.
Glynna had time to scream only once.
Diego heard Glynna's scream and knew she was in trouble. He turned from the packhorse, only to find a renegade charging straight at him. He grabbed for his gun. It was the last thing he would ever do. The Comanche had his rifle ready, and he shot the boy before he had time even to take aim.
"Diego!" Glynna cried.
Terror filled Glynna as she realized what was happening, but her need to go to Diego's aid overcame her fear. She started toward the fallen youth, but did not make it. The renegade swooped down upon her and grabbed her from behind, yanking her up onto his horse's back.
"Glynna!" Mimi had been hurrying to help Diego, too, when she saw the warrior grab Glynna. Her heart-rending scream sounded in the wilderness.
Glynna wasn't going to give in easily to her captor. She erupted in fury. With all her might, she swung her paint box at him, catching him in the face. The sharp corner of the wooden box cut him near his eye. Bleeding heavily, he released her with a grunt of pain. She fell roughly to the ground and lost her hold on her box and all her supplies.
"Run, Glynna!" Mimi yelled to her.
Glynna frantically got back to her feet and started to run to where Mimi knelt over Diego.
Mimi had reached the boy and dropped to her knees beside him. She'd carefully turned him over, hoping to help him, but had quickly realized the bullet had found its mark. Diego was dead.
Tears streaked down Mimi's face as she looked up toward Glynna. Pure terror filled her as she saw yet another warrior charging up behind Glynna.
"Look out!" she shouted, terrified. She jumped up to try to save her niece from certain harm, drawing her derringer from her pocket. No one was going to hurt Glynna if she could help it!
Glynna had thrown her paint box aside and was racing at top speed toward her aunt and Diego. Before she could reach them, though, a second renegade closed in on her. He snared her and threw her, facedown, over his horse's back in front of him.
"Let me go!" she screamed, kicking and fighting.
The Comanche's grip was unyielding and painful. There was no chance to escape. The motion of the horse was brutal, knocking the wind from her, as the renegade galloped through their campsite.
"Glynna! No!"
Mimi saw the way the warrior was manhandling her niece and lost control. She had learned how to shoot at a hunt club back home, but had never seriously considered the possibility of actually killing another human being until now. Swinging around, gun in hand, she was ready. As the warrior holding Glynna rode by, she fired at him. She was horrified when she missed, and he raced off out of sight. Furious, she threw the derringer aside and ran to get Diego's gun. She grabbed it up and fired, hitting another of the attackers squarely in the chest. He fell from his horse and lay unmoving.
At the sound of the gunshots, Crouching Wolf wheeled his horse around. He was angry at the way the younger woman had hit him and had managed to break free. He was still bleeding from the cut above his eye and wanted revenge. He had seen the older woman and had thought about taking her captive, but when she went for the other gun and shot Coyote Man, he knew it would be too difficult to disarm her. He rode at her from behind and shot her.
Mimi had just been taking aim at another of the raiding party, when suddenly the bullet slammed into her back. She cried out Glynna's name once more in heartbroken sorrow before collapsing, unconscious, to the ground.
Glynna heard the sound of the shots and then heard her aunt scream her name. She tried to lift her head to see what had happened, but her captor hit her, forcing her to remain still. She heard him shout something to the other warriors who were with him as they galloped away. The pounding pace was jarring, bruising her. Fear for her aunt's safety and terror for her own filled Glynna, and she began to cry.
In her hysteria, she thought of Hunt and the day he'd saved her from the longhorn. What an innocent she'd been to think that he had meant to harm her! These renegades were deadly savages. Hunt had proven himself a hero by rescuing her. These Comanche with their hideous war paint had killed Diego and done something terrible to Aunt Mimi. This time she was truly in danger. This time she was facing the real thing. Glynna hung on for dear life. She had no choice.
Two of the warriors went back to claim their dead companion's body.
When they'd secured him to one of the riding horses, they raced away from the carnage, crossing mile after mile of Texas terrain.
Hours passed before they stopped to rest. The warrior who'd taken her prisoner threw Glynna to the ground. She lay sprawled there, staring up at him in terror as he dismounted and walked toward her. The renegade was not a tall man, but he was powerfully built. His bare torso was heavy and hard with muscle. His face was painted with black war paint in a hideous pattern that gave him a ghoulish look. His hair was parted down the middle and worn in two braids. He was clad in only a breechclout and moccasins. He looked like something out of her worst nightmare, and she trembled at the thought of what he was going to do to her.
Refusing to show him her fear or cower before him, Glynna started to get to her feet. She wanted to face him bravely, but he shoved her back to the ground. He didn't say a word, but reached down to grab her hands. Glynna fought him, kicking and twisting, but he held her easily, and quickly tied her wrists in front of her. He pushed her back down then and went to talk with the others.
Glynna watched them carefully and tried to hear what they were saying, but they spoke the Comanche tongue, and she couldn't understand them. She was tempted to make a run for it, but there was nowhere to go. The land around them offered no shelter, no place where she could seek refuge. She was a captive. Glynna reasoned that if the warrior had wanted to kill her, he would have done it by now. So she remained where she was, waiting to see what was going to happen next.
The warriors tended to their dead friend, burying him beneath a pile of rocks. Then they all painted their faces black. That done, they were ready to ride again.
Her captor returned to Glynna and motioned for her to get up. He mounted his horse and pulled her up to sit in front of him.
Glynna tried to keep her mind blank. She told herself that if she didn't think about what was actually happening to her, she would be all right for a while. Thoughts of Aunt Mimi and Diego came to her, and she prayed that they were alive.
The raiding party rode off again at top speed. They headed farther and farther away from the Rocking M, farther and farther away from any hope of rescue.
It was late, al
most dinnertime, in fact. Tom was starting to wonder what had happened to Diego and the women. They had been due back several hours before. He was standing on the front porch, keeping watch, when Hunt approached.
"You look worried. Is something wrong?"
"I hope not," Tom told him. "I was just keeping a lookout for Diego. He should have been back with Mimi and Glynna by now."
Hunt frowned and looked out across the land. "Where did they ride to today?"
"Up by the canyon. We thought that would be the best place for Glynna to do some painting."
Hunt was frowning as he considered the lateness of the hour. "Think I'd better ride out and take a look around before it gets too dark?"
"Thanks, son. It couldn't hurt. The odds are there's nothing to worry about, but I'd feel a lot better knowing you were out there checking on them."
Hunt nodded and started back toward the stable. "I'll take Wes and Gib with me, too."
"I'll be waiting right here to hear from you."
Hunt told the other two hands what they had to do, and the three men were soon saddled up and ready to ride. Hunt saddled Warrior for the trip. The three men made sure they were armed before they rode from the ranch. They were hoping there wouldn't be any trouble, but they never rode out unprepared, just in case.
Tom watched them leave from the porch.
"Senor Tom? Where are they going?" Maria asked as she came to stand with him.
"I was getting a little worried about your boy, Maria. He was due back with the women from the canyon a while ago, and I haven't seen hide nor hair of them."
"You think something happened?" She was suddenly concerned.
"I hope not." His tone was edgy as he tried to smile at her.
"Dinner is ready if you want to go ahead and eat. I can save the rest for the others when they return."
"Save mine, too. I'll wait and eat with them. I want to hear about their adventures today."
"Yes, Senior Tom." Maria went back inside as Tom settled in on the porch. She hoped her son returned soon. She hoped they were just running late.
Hunt had no trouble finding their tracks from that morning. They followed the trail for over an hour, keeping watch for some sign of returning hoofprints. They grew more and more concerned with each passing mile, though, for there was no indication that the women had come back toward the ranch. It was near dusk when they stopped for a moment.
"Do you think we missed them?" Gib wondered. "Do you think we should head back and see if they're already there?"
Hunt was staring quietly off into the distance. "No. Something's wrong. Let's keep looking."
They traveled on, still following the trail. They had just come to the top of a small rise when they saw the carnage in the campsite below. They could see Diego lying unmoving on the ground, and a woman lying facedown nearby.
"Oh, God," Wes said in a strangled voice.
Hunt wasted no time on talk. He put his heels to Warrior's sides and raced toward the site. Horror filled him at the thought that Diego and the women had been massacred by renegades. He sawed back on his reins, bringing Warrior to an abrupt stop, dismounted and was running toward the bodies before either Wes or Gib could follow.
One look at Diego told Hunt all he needed to know. The boy was dead had died instantly. He went on, dreading what he would discover next. He feared the other victim was Glynna, and he girded himself for what was to come. Only when he reached the woman's side did he realize it was Mimi who lay facedown in the dirt, a bullet wound in her back. Pain tore at Hunt. With infinite care, he knelt beside her and slowly, carefully took her in his arms and turned her over.
Hunt was shocked when she gave a soft groan. He had felt certain that she was dead. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was still alive.
"Wes! Gib! She's alive!" he shouted to the others, and they were beside him in an instant.
Mimi's eyes fluttered open. There was torment and agony in the depths of her gaze as she looked up at Hunt. It took nearly all her strength to lift one hand and clutch desperately at his arm.
"Hunt... renegades..." she whispered. Pain and panic were etched in her features as she fought to stay conscious. She had to tell him what had happened. She had to let him know about Glynna. "They took Glynna"
The exertion exhausted her, and Mimi lost consciousness.
"She was shot in the back," Hunt told them. "She's still alive, but I don't know for how long."
"What do you want to do?"
Hunt carefully laid Mimi back down so he could examine the gunshot wound. "She needs to see a doctor. You've got to get her back to the ranch tonight. I don't know if she'll live until morning without help."
"What are you planning?" Gib knew his friend.
"The renegades took Glynna. I'm going after them, and I'm going to bring her back."
"She could already be dead, Hunt," Wes said, trying to talk sense into him. He saw the determination in Hunt's eyes and feared for his safety.
"If they'd wanted Glynna dead, they never would have taken her in the first place. They would have killed her here. I'm going after them."
Gib understood. "What do you need?"
"Nothing. You just take care of Mimi." He stood up.
"We'll get her back to the ranch as fast as we can," Gib promised.
Hunt started for his horse, and it was then that he saw Glynna's sketchbook and pencil lying in the dirt. He picked them up, holding them as if they were precious, then stowed them in his saddlebag. A terrible resolve filled him. He had to ride out now; there was little time left before dark.
"Hunt, wait," Wes called out.
He looked back toward them.
"Be careful," Gib said.
He raised one hand in farewell, then was gone, following the cold trail that led to the north and west.
Wes looked at Gib. "If anyone can find her, Hunt will."
They hurried back to where Mimi lay. Her wound was serious. They dressed it as best they could, and they were glad she was unconscious. They could only imagine the pain she would have been in, had she been awake.
It was nearly dark when they were finally ready to start back to the ranch. They'd found the packhorse nearby and were using it to transport Diego's body. It would not be easy going for them, and they hoped the grievously wounded Mrs. Randall would survive the trip.
It was dark, and that told Tom everything he needed to know. He'd been hoping that Hunt would return quickly, having met the others on the trail on their way back in. It wasn't to be. Something had happened to Diego, Mimi and Glynna-something bad.
"No sign of them yet, Senor Tom?" Maria asked, trying desperately to control her fears about her son's fate.
"Not a thing, Maria. I don't like this. I don't like this at all."
"Neither do I," she said, sighing raggedly. "Maybe a horse got away from them and they had to ride double, and it's slowing them down."
"I hope that's it. If so, Hunt and the boys will find them and bring them right on back home where they belong."
He tried to sound positive for her sake, for he could tell the worry was taking its toll on her. He knew what it felt like to think your only son might be in serious trouble and not be able to help him, and he could sympathize.
Maria went back inside, wanting to keep busy. If she was doing something, she wouldn't have time to think.
"We're almost there," Gib said to Wes as he caught sight of the lights from the ranch house in the distance.
"How's she doing?"
"She's alive," was all he answered. He'd been holding Mimi in front of him for the duration of the trek, and praying the whole time that she'd make it until they got her back.
"That's about the best we could hope for. As soon as we get her inside, I'll ride for town and get the doe."
"Good. She's going to need him. I hate like hell to be the one to tell Maria about Diego. You know how she feels about the boy."
Both men fell silent as they faced what they knew was coming. It wa
s going to be one of the hardest things they'd ever done telling Maria that she'd lost her son. Both men would have gladly avoided it, if there had been any other way. They cared about Maria and would never have done anything to hurt her. She was a kind and gentle woman who deserved better than what life was handing her.
They heard the sound of shouts coming from the house, and they knew someone had spotted them. There was no quickening their pace, though, for fear of injuring the wounded woman even more. When at last they reined in, Tom and Maria were there, watching and waiting anxiously.
"What happened? Where are the others?" Tom demanded, coming toward them.
"My Diego? Where is he?" Maria was frantic as she followed him.
"And Glynna?"
Wes dismounted and immediately went to Maria, trying to block her from seeing Diego's body on the packhorse.
"Maria." His tone was agonized as he began to tell her what had happened.
She looked up at him. Understanding dawned in her expression as she saw his torment, and with the understanding came horror.
"No!" she cried. She pushed forcefully past him. She stopped suddenly when she saw the body of her son. "Oh, God-"
Maria let out another scream and ran to her dead child. Wes stayed with her to comfort her as best he could.
"Diego's dead?" Tom asked solemnly, looking up at Gib.
"Yes, and Mrs. Randall here was shot, too. Can you help me get her down?"
Tom hurried to his side. Gib carefully lowered Mimi into his arms.
"Did renegades do this?" Tom stared down at her. Her face was ashen, and she was barely breathing.
"Yeah..."
Gib dismounted and took Mimi back from Tom.
"Where's Hunt, and what about Glynna?" he asked as they started toward the house.
"Mrs. Randall was conscious when we found her. She told Hunt that renegades had taken her niece."
"So Hunt went after them," he said, already certain of what had happened.
"He rode straight out. He said he wouldn't be back until he found her."
