by Bobbi Smith
"Rori, you're bleeding," Nilakla whispered as she reached out to touch her friend's torn lip.
Her bleeding mouth was the least of her concerns, and she wiped at it distractedly with her shirtsleeve. "We've got to get out of here . . ."
"I know, but how?"
"I'll think of something." She glanced around trying to judge the area.
"Rori, I still have my knife," Nilakla confided excitedly. "It's small, but it's better than nothing."
Rori's eyes lit up. Unarmed, she was just a woman, but if she had a knife and the element of surprise on her side, she could fight as good as any man. "Give it to me."
Nilakla slipped the small knife from its place in her waistband and covertly handed it over to Rori. "What are you going to do?"
"What do you think?" Her gaze was cold and deadly even as she smiled slightly at her friend.
"What do you want me to do, Rori?" She noticed the men were just finishing up watering their mounts. "We haven't got much time."
"We're gonna have to make a run for it," she whispered, visually searching for a quick route that would offer them some protection should the men start shooting. "We have to get the hell out of here while we can."
"All right."
"When we run, head back the way we came. Chance and Doug will be coming after us . . ." Rori felt a searing pain of loss at the thought that Burr and Jake would not be with them. They were dead . . . killed at the hands of these men. She fought to put the emotion from her. She could not afford to be weak now. If she wanted to escape and survive, she knew she had to think clearly. "We aren't gonna get a better chance than right now," Rori told Nilakla, her eyes narrowing as she picked the quickest, safest escape route. "We gotta go while they're busy and while they think we're afraid."
"But I am afraid," Nilakla told her friend, smiling slightly.
"So am I." Rori grinned back. "But I'd rather get shot trying to get away from those two than suffer through what they've got in mind for us."
"Me, too."
"When I say go, head over there." Rori nodded toward the side where it was safest to go. "It's pretty rocky, and we should be able to get some cover."
"All right." Nilakla agreed, her heart hammering in her breast as she waited for Rori's signal to run. Escape was their only hope.
Chapter Seventeen
Following Big Jake's lead, Burr, Chance, and Doug rode relentlessly through the night. Each man was haunted by the danger the women faced, and with every passing mile, their tension grew stronger, their nerves stretched taut.
Despite the pain he was in, Burr was ever alert. He couldn't give in to his weakness now. Rori needed him. Burr kept his eyes trained on Big Jake as the dog followed the trail left by the fleeing outlaws. Burr calculated that they had only about a forty-five minute head start on them, and as treacherous as the terrain was, if they weren't familiar with the lay of the land, they wouldn't be traveling too fast.
Still, as dawn neared, their position became more vulnerable. Burr knew they would have to be more cautious in their approach. As craggy and mountainous as this area was, he knew it would be an easy thing to set up an ambush. They'd have to be vigilant. They would be of little help to Rori and Nilakla if they were shot down trying to rescue them.
A searing, blinding pain shot through his head, and Burr grabbed his saddlehorn to keep from losing his seat. He was grateful for the covering darkness, because he didn't want Chance or Doug to see him and realize how bad he really was. It would pass, he told himself. There would be time later, after they rescued the women, to worry about himself. Right now only Rori and Nilakla were important.
Burr remembered Atallie and Jack and the horrors they'd suffered. Though it had been a long time ago, the memory still had the power to hurt him, even now. He couldn't let that happen to Rori and Nilakla. He had to help them. Setting his jaw against the continuing physical and emotional agony that besieged him, he kept a firm hand on his reins and kept riding.
Doug followed closely behind Burr, his rifle ready in hand. He trusted the old man's tracking abilities and knew that if it was possible to find Nilakla and Rori they would.
Doug kept a sharp eye on their night-shrouded surroundings as they rode, but he let his thoughts drift, recalling in vivid detail all the happenings of the past twelve hours. He wondered how it was possible for things to change so fast. Just a short time before, he'd thought his life was perfect, and now . . .
The gold. The realization hit him forcefully. All of this had happened because of the damned gold. Doug's grip on his reins tightened, and his horse, sensing the change, moved uneasily. He forced himself to relax his hold, calming his mount, but his thoughts did not lighten. Silently, he castigated himself for what he knew now was the cause of all his trouble—selfishness and greed.
It was hard for Doug to admit to himself that he'd been wrong, but admit it he did. His whole purpose in coming here had been to get rich. He'd wanted to prove that he could make it on his own, that he was as good a man as Chance. Now, he realized, there was more to it. Money didn't make the man. What kind of man would he be if he deserted the one woman who truly loved him, the woman who had given up everything for him and asked nothing in return? The woman he loved . . .
Doug gave a slow shake of his head. He wanted Nilakla to be his wife, to be with him forever. It no longer mattered to him what people back in Boston thought—only Nilakla mattered. The thought that she might die because these men were after the mine filled him with self-loathing, and he knew he would give it all up just to have her safe again.
Doug vowed to himself then that, if he did find her and she was all right, he would give up the mine completely. He'd take the gold he'd already mined and get Nilakla away from there so she'd never be in any danger again. He wanted to take care of her forever, to have children with her, to spend all his years with her.
A new sense of maturity filled Doug, and he felt a firm resolve take hold of him. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with the rest of his life now, and he was going to do it. All he had to do was find Nilakla . . .
Doug tensed in the saddle and tightened his hold on his rifle as his gaze swept over the night-shrouded mountains. All he had to do was find her . . .
Chance rode along quietly near Burr, his gaze trained on Big Jake as the dog hunted out the desperadoes' scent on the rocky ground. Chance knew he should have been relieved that they had chased them this far and not found either Rori or Nilakla dead alongside the trail, but at the same time it worried him. Why had they taken the women, and what did they want from them? Were the outlaws strictly after the gold and so were planning to use Rori and Nilakla as hostages for the fortune, or had they merely taken the women to abuse them before they killed them, as had happened to Rori's mother? That possibility sickened Chance, and knowing how Burr felt about the past, he wondered how he was managing to hold up under the strain.
Chance thought of Rori, of their first encounter in town and how she'd successfully fought him off. Silently, he prayed that she'd be able to defend herself against the two who held her captive. He knew she was rough and tumble; Burr had raised her that way. She was scrappy and proud and wouldn't bend easily to anyone else's will, and he feared that her attitude would antagonize her captors. Chance worried how she'd do in a fight against a man if he decided to use his full strength against her, and he hoped to God that she'd never have to find out.
Tense with worry, Chance urged his horse to a little faster pace as he followed Burr and Jake. They had to find Rori and Nilakla tonight, and they had to be safe. If they weren't . . .
Rori led the way, moving slowly at first, creeping toward what she thought was their best escape route. They didn't want to draw any attention to themselves by running quickly, and yet they knew that they had to make their move as fast as they could before Hal and Tom finished rubbing down the horses. They edged slowly toward freedom, waiting for that moment when both of the men were screened from view by the mounts. Then Rori guessed the
y could make a clear run for it, and she dashed headlong for the cover of the rocks with Nilakla close on her heels. They were there before Hal and Tom had time to react.
"Tom!" Hal bellowed furiously as he rushed from where he'd been standing behind his horse and drew his revolver.
Tom looked up just as Rori and Nilakla disappeared from sight, and he shouted his wrath at their bold daring. Hal fired quickly, but his shot ricocheted harmlessly off a boulder as Nilakla disappeared into the rocky landscape. He charged after them, gun in hand, determined that they weren't going to get away. Tom drew his gun and joined Hal in the chase. There was no way he was going to let that half-breed bitch escape. This was the last time she was going to humiliate him.
The gunshot echoed through the stillness of the night, and Chance, Burr, and Doug went rigid at the sound. Their expressions turned grim as they looked around trying to figure out which direction it had come from.
Big Jake had no such difficulty. His keen sense of hearing told him immediately where the shot had been fired, and he took off up mountainside at top speed. Though the pain in Jake's head was constant, the desire in his heart to save Rori was more powerful.
"Follow Jake!" Burr shouted when he saw the dog take off. "They're up there." He pointed the way and jabbed his horse sharply in his sides to get him moving.
"Did Rori have a gun?" Chance called to Burr as he kept up with him.
"No," the old man answered tautly. "She only carried a knife."
"That's all Nilakla had with her, too," Doug told them.
All three men were deeply shaken by the fear that either Rori or Nilakla had been shot down in cold blood by one of their captors.
Rori and Nilakla were running as fast as they could, dodging this way and that among the rocks and low-growing shrubs. They were thankful for the covering darkness, knowing that without it, Hal and Tom would probably have shot them dead by now. Panting in exertion, they charged onward, never looking back. Neither woman had any idea where they were going, they only knew that they had to keep moving.
They had made it almost a half mile when Nilakla suddenly lost her footing and fell heavily.
"Rori!" she gasped, half whispering, half crying.
Rori stopped immediately and raced back to her friend's side. "Nilakla! Are you hurt?"
Nilakla was sobbing and had one hand resting on her stomach as she tried to catch her breath. "I don't know . . . the baby . . ."
"Baby?" Her eyes rounded in shock at this news. "You're going to have a baby?"
She nodded, her eyes welling with tears.
"Then you have to get up and move! We can't let them catch you! Come on!"
Nilakla tried to get to her feet with Rori's help, but her ankle gave out on her. "I can't do it! My ankle . . . I've hurt it somehow . . ."
"Damn!" Rori swore, looking around for some place where she could hide. There were only rocks and a low-growing creosote bush nearby. "There! Crawl under the bush! Quick!"
"But . . ."
"Don't argue, just do it! I'll keep going. Stay there and don't move! Chance and Doug should be out there somewhere. I'll find them if I can." She helped her to the cover of the bush. "Here, take this." Rori handed Nilakla back her knife.
"But you'll need it . . . "
"Keep it, and if they come anywhere near you, use it."
"What will you use?"
"I can at least run away from them," she told her. "Now, get in there and don't say a word! Don't even breathe loud!"
Nilakla gave her a quick hug and crawled into the hiding place. Rori took one look back and knew she had to get away. She had to get the men to chase after her and lead them away from her injured friend.
"Rori!" Nilakla whispered. "Be careful!"
Rori didn't hear her, though, for she had already disappeared into the night. As she ran, she prayed that Hal and Tom would follow after her and miss seeing Nilakla completely.
When they'd first run from the lookout, Tom and Hal had managed to catch glimpses of the women, but as they'd raced back down the mountainside, they'd temporarily lost sight of them. Knowing it was impossible for them to have gotten away, the outlaws slowed their pace and began to scour the area in search of them.
"They're here somewhere." Tom spoke softly, not wanting to give away their own position should their captives be nearby.
"Keep quiet, and we'll hear 'em movin' around." As Hal spoke, the faint sound of brush moving came to them, and they looked up in time to see Rori darting away.
"There she is!" Tom exclaimed as he took off after her.
"I'll go this way!" Hal shouted. "The squaw's got to be ahead of her. We'll circle in on them."
The two men raced off into the night. Driven by his need to catch the little half-breed, Tom scrambled excitedly after Rori.
The seconds seemed like hours to Nilakla as she huddled there beneath the camouflaging branches of the creosote bush. She held her breath in terror as Tom came crashing by her, but when he barreled on past without stopping, she was encouraged. Nilakla knew that Hal was still out there somewhere, so she remained frozen where she was, waiting, watching, and praying that Rori would get safely away. She clinched the small knife in her hand and was ready for the first time in her life to use it as a weapon against another person. Survival was all that mattered to her now. She would not die without a fight.
Rori came charging down the incline at top speed. She was trying to elude the two who hunted her, but at the same time angle back the way they'd come in hopes of finding help . . . of finding Chance and Doug. The sound of booted footsteps closing quickly behind her alarmed Rori. Straining to the limit, she tried to regain the lead she'd had on her pursuer, but her strength was failing. Her lungs burned as she fought for breath, and her legs felt leaden.
Tom was surprised to find that he was gaining on Rori. An evil laugh escaped him as he drew within arm's reach of her. The sound of his wicked glee sent shivers of dread coursing down Rori's spine. It almost seemed to her that she could feel the heat of his breath on the back of her neck. Realizing just how close he was, she gave one last burst of speed, but it was too little, too late. Tom grabbed Rori by the hair from behind and jerked her forcefully to a stop. She screamed in pain at his brutal hold.
"Thought you was smart, did you? Thought you could get away from me, did you?" He savagely twisted her head back to glare down at her.
The sound of Rori's agonized scream alerted Burr to her closeness.
"That was Rori!!" He turned his horse violently in her direction, leaving Chance and Doug to follow. Burr reined his mount in as he brought his gun to bear on Tom. He would have fired, but could get no clear shot at him while he was holding Rori. "Let her go!!" Burr demanded, his voice ringing out across the black Arizona night.
"Grampa!!" Rori cried out in joy. She had thought him dead . . . she had thought she would never see him again . . . Her spirits soared. Her grampa always managed to make things all right.
Rori's joy was short-lived as Tom reacted fiercely, turning and firing.
Just as the gun went off, Jake came hurling out of nowhere in a snarling, raging attack. The force of his assault knocked Tom backward and forced him to loosen his hold upon Rori.
Rori jerked herself completely free as Jake continued to battle with the bandit, snapping and biting him wherever he could. She saw Burr then, fallen from his horse, and rushed frantically to him. One look was all it took for her to realize how serious the gunshot wound was. She didn't notice the sound of other horses nearing as she grabbed Burr's gun and turned on Tom. Gripping it with both hands, she tried to get a clear shot at the badman. She wanted to kill him! She wanted to see him dead for all that he'd done to Burr and her! But there was no way she could fire while Jake was wrestling with him.
Chance and Doug rode up at that moment, their guns drawn and ready. Chance took one look at Rori, her clothing torn, her expression reflecting pure hatred for this man, and he knew he had to kill the bastard, to see him in hell. Chance
didn't know what vile things this man had done to Rori, but he wasn't going to let him get away with it.
"Jake! Get out of the way!" Chance ordered, and the big dog jumped obediently back.
Tom still had his gun, though, and he fired in Rori's direction. She dove for cover just as Chance got his shot off. The bullet blasted into Tom's chest. Cautiously, keeping his gun trained on the desperado, Chance dismounted and went to check and make sure he was dead.
"Rori, where's Nilakla?" Doug asked worriedly as he kept an iron hand on his reins, his horse dancing nervously because of all the gunshots.
"She's back down the trail hiding!" Rori threw over her shoulder as she ran to her grampa, her throat tight with fear and her heart thudding furiously. "You've got to go help her!"
"Are there others?"
"Yes" was all she could manage as she dropped down on her knees beside Burr.
Doug dug his heels into his horse's flanks and wheeled his mount around, ready to rush off in search of her.
"Be careful, Doug!" she called as he galloped off.
Rori's concern for her grandfather drove all other thoughts from her mind. A deep, cold chill filled her as she realized the extent of his injuries. He was unconscious, barely breathing, his breath rasping harshly in his throat. Blood soaked the front of his shirt.
"No, Grampa! You can't die!" She cried in heartbreak and despair. "Grampa, what am I going to do without you? You can't die! You just can't!" Tears of anguish coursed unheeded down her cheeks as she bent over Burr's unconscious form.
Having made certain that Tom was dead, Chance holstered his gun and hurried toward Rori. As he drew nearer, he heard her plaintive cries and realized that Burr must have been seriously hurt. He stopped a short distance away and watched her as she hovered over her grandfather in anguished heartbreak. The happiness he'd been feeling over her well-being vanished, replaced by a deep wave of sympathetic grief. In a moment of understanding, Chance recognized that the old tracker was the only person in the world Rori had to rely on. She had no family—she had only Burr.
