He circled his horse around their camp, continually increasing his distance as he looked for a sign of where Claire had gone. In his distraction, he didn’t hear the horses until he nearly ran into another party. With disbelief, his gaze took in Frank Griffin’s suspicious frown, Harry Myer’s stunned recognition of the man who’d threatened him, and Dee’s pale features as she faced the lover she’d dumped nearly two years ago.
“I can’t believe…” Dee’s voice faltered. “How on earth did you find me?”
“I stopped lookin’ for you months ago.”
She wore a riding habit of dark brown with a hat hanging from stampede strings down her back. Her dark hair and fair complexion were still as lovely as ever, but Logan couldn’t help but notice the shadows clouding her gaze.
The strangeness of seeing Dee—after wondering at a reunion for so long—put Logan at a loss to say all the words that had pressed on him for so long. He reminded himself again that her welfare was no longer his concern.
“Well, it’s nice to see you after the shootout in Cimarron,” Griffin said, the sarcasm in his voice hard to miss. “And how would you know my sister?”
“This is Logan Ryan,” Dee said.
“That deputy you were shackled to in Virginia City?”
She nodded. “What are you doing out here?” she asked Logan, her voice edged with concern.
“I’m lookin’ for Claire. She’s my wife.” Logan looked at the three riders opposite him and realized he’d been wrong about the third set of tracks belonging to Sandoval. Clamping down on the fear that gripped him, he forced his expression to remain impassive. Did the Mexican have Claire?
Griffin laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re talking about Claire Waters.”
“Your wife,” Dee repeated softly. “When did that happen?”
“It’s recent,” Logan replied.
“And where is your lovely wife now, Mr. Ryan?” Griffin asked. “Run off somewhere? You should’ve consulted me before marrying her, I could’ve told you. Waters women are slippery snakes. Most whores are.”
“So that’s your half-ass explanation for neglecting your son?” Logan asked.
Frank cursed under his breath. “I don’t neglect the runt. I married his mother.”
“What?” Dee asked. “You and Maggie are married?”
“She doesn’t exactly inspire wedded bliss,” Frank said. “But she has her uses.”
The news fell into Logan’s head like a puzzle no longer broken into pieces. If Luttrell had deeded his land to Maggie, then Frank would’ve eventually had his hands on it. So she’d hatched a plan to marry Shorty to Claire, and somehow manipulate the both of them to do her will. While he certainly didn’t care for her tactics, he couldn’t deny her ability to go after what she wanted in any way possible. Claire possessed a bit of that stubbornness as well.
As Logan thought of his wife, he realized the future wasn’t set. Not by a long shot.
“One big happy family,” Logan muttered, uneasiness settling around him.
“Maybe Claire knows where Maggie is,” Dee said. “Maybe that’s why she ran off.”
“Well, anything might be better than following you, Myers,” Griffin said, his gaze flicking to Harry.
“I know where I’m goin’,” Myers replied. He squinted and picked at his teeth with a dirty fingernail. “At least, I’m pretty sure, but I can’t control the women runnin’ around.”
“Why are you so hell-bent on finding Maggie?” Logan asked Griffin. “Doesn’t sound like you plan to take her home and set up house.”
“She’s taken what’s rightfully ours…Rightfully Dee’s.”
The color drained from Dee’s face as she sunk into her saddle, and Logan wondered at it. During their time together in Virginia City she’d been full of life and vitality. She never cowered from what a new day brought forth.
“Do you trust Claire?” Dee asked him.
“Why?”
“There’s a lot at stake, and I’d hate to think she’s using you. Maggie’s twisted; sure as hell she twisted her daughter, too.”
Logan didn’t want to believe that.
“Watch yourself, Ryan,” Griffin said. “Just because you did my sister years ago don’t mean shit in my book. She’s damaged goods anyhow, couldn’t keep Luttrell satisfied and that’s the entire reason we’re in this mess to begin with. You interfere and I’ll kill you, and I’ll kill slippery Claire, too. Maggie always hid that girl away, and she thinks far too much of herself now. Just so we’re clear—don’t go messin’ with me.”
“Then I guess you don’t understand the situation as well I thought you did.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Luttrell deeded everything to Claire and as her husband, you’re officially on my land. Anything you find here belongs to me.”
“Bullshit!” Griffin replied. He pulled his gun, but Logan had already drawn. They faced each other from atop their horses, evenly matched.
“You can bet your balls none of this’ll stick,” Griffin said. “I’ll make damn sure of it.”
“I’ll shoot trespassers and ask questions later. Just so we’re clear,” Logan added.
“This is the last time Maggie fucks with me.” Griffin lowered his gun and released the hammer. He laughed, but the sound held no humor. “Better sleep with one eye open. Seems to me that if Claire were suddenly widowed then ol’ Harry here could fill your less than noble shoes.”
“Too many witnesses,” Logan said.
“Like I said, just because you’ve done my sister don’t mean shit. Right Dee?” Griffin smiled.
Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Dee nod weakly and gaze downward.
“There ain’t no witnesses out here,” Griffin confirmed.
A bad feeling settled in Logan’s gut. It was going to be damn hard to protect Claire from both Raul Sandoval and Frank Griffin, all the while watching his own back. And where was Claire, anyway? Sandoval could already have her…could already…The thought chilled him to his very core.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll escort you while you’re on my land,” Logan said, aware his best chance of finding Sandoval—and Claire—undoubtedly lay with Griffin.
“Suit yourself. You’re in the lead, Myers.”
The malice in Griffin’s gaze undermined his apparent willingness. Undoubtedly, he thought he could use Logan to locate Claire, and ultimately Maggie.
Harry headed north, while Griffin waited to bring up the rear. Logan didn’t like the line-up but fell in beside Dee as they moved farther into the forest, Claire’s horse trailing his.
They rode in silence for a time, an occasional aspen, with yellow leaves and a white trunk, breaking up the green of the pine trees.
“I guess congratulations are in order,” Dee finally said, her voice low. “Do you still live in Virginia City?”
“No. I’m back in Texas with my folks.”
“You’re not a deputy anymore?”
“No.”
“That strikes me as odd,” she murmured. “You were so dedicated to it.”
She looked away, but not before he saw her narrowed eyes. Anger flashed through him.
“And what were you dedicated to?” he asked harshly.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” she whispered, her lips pressed tightly together.
“You never even said goodbye. Don’t you think I deserved an explanation at least?”
They rode through a flat area, having crested the hill where Logan had made camp the previous night with Claire. It was midday, hotter than Hades, and Logan felt frustration pushing at boundaries that had always been loose and easy. He’d never been a man riled by the comings and goings of others, but Dee’s disappearance from his life had shaken the earth beneath his boots. Claire’s appearance, likewise, had done much the same. He was at a loss to understand what it all meant.
“There wasn’t time,” Dee replied. “I’m sorry. Maybe we could’ve worked it out
.”
“Regretting Luttrell?”
Dee gazed forward. “I regret many things.”
“Yeah, so do I,” he answered honestly.
Dee dabbed a night-blue scarf to her forehead. “I have to admit, I’m curious how you and Claire became acquainted. She disappeared without a word a few months back, and talk around town wasn’t good. Did you have something to do with that?”
Logan looked at her, stunned by the implication of her words. Apprehension played across her face, a face he’d known quite well at one time. He was caught unaware by a pang of one of those regrets they’d just spoken of.
“No,” he said. “But I plan to kill the bastard who was responsible.”
Surrounded by dangerous men and an ex-fiancée that still sparked his anger and frustration, Logan feared the worst of all possible scenarios—losing Claire. Determined to drag her out of these mountains at any cost, he prayed she was still alive. Because if she wasn’t Logan would damn his deputy days and take care of these men in any way possible.
Chapter Sixteen
Sandoval pushed hard, moving them deeper into the mountains. Unsure of their location, Claire could only hope Jimmy would soon recognize something in the landscape, although it wasn’t difficult to see why he hadn’t yet found their mama. The Sangre de Cristo Mountains were a refuge of forest-filled, repetitive terrain. If she and Jimmy could escape, which direction would lead them to safety? Defeat hovered on the fringe of her exhausted mind.
For a day and a half they traveled with little food and water. Jimmy told her Maggie had taken to the hills with gold on her mind, searching land that belonged to Luttrell, land he’d acquired as a representative of the Maxwell Land Grant. Jimmy whispered this to her during the night under the stars, and she marveled at the maturity in his voice, the scope of his knowledge. He was only eight years old, but the little boy he’d been was gone. She had already seen his newfound reckless aggression, and it scared her. It could get him hurt. Maybe even killed.
Jimmy told her he’d been with their mama for days, maybe weeks—he couldn’t remember. Then the crazy incident with the spiders and he’d run away, only to get lost in the hills. And there he’d been, day after day—although he reassured her it hadn’t been long—until Sandoval caught him. “And then your ghost walked through the trees,” he’d said to her.
Claire hugged him close. For all his boastful might, Jimmy was still young, superstitious, and easily impressed by the good and the bad in the world.
To Claire, it was increasingly clear that Sandoval had no intention of meeting up with Frank Griffin or Harry Myers; the treasure must be great indeed if he didn’t plan to share it. He stayed away from her and Jimmy, but Claire was hardly grateful, knowing his attention could change at any moment. He hardly fed them, and kept their hands and legs tied when they were on horseback. Soon, her energy would be gone altogether. She needed to do something.
Today, rain came down in sheets, and Claire shivered while she tried to cover Jimmy’s trembling body as he sat in front of her on the horse. The only advantage of the rain was that it washed the grime from them. Gray clouds hung low and mist surrounded them. As they moved to the top of a hill, Claire saw an open expanse off through the pines to the left. They remained under cover of the trees, offering some protection from the wetness, but Claire longed to be dry and warm.
“We need to stop,” she said, surprised by the demand in her voice.
Sandoval’s disinterest in his prisoners sparked an unnatural boldness in her. Lightheaded, she almost laughed. There had never been a time when she wasn’t afraid of him. A thrill ran through her at the idea of defeating him.
“No. We are tracked.”
Elation sprang into her heart. Logan.
“Claire,” Jimmy whispered, straining his neck. “This looks familiar.”
“Shhh. Don’t let him hear you.”
“The chapel.” He nodded to the right.
Claire squinted, searching through the trees. “I think I see a building. How do you know it’s a chapel?”
“That’s what ma called it. She told me to stay out of it, but I went there and prayed anyway.”
“For what?”
“For you, and your trip to Heaven. I told her you would kiss the stars and watch over us. But my prayers worked even better—they brought you back.”
Claire swallowed against the tightness in her throat. Jimmy’s gesture nearly broke her heart. Her mama must be crazy, she thought as she seethed with anger. Certainly it was madness to bring Jimmy out here and then lose him. In Claire’s mind, that was unforgivable—as was much of what Maggie had done to hers and Jimmy’s lives.
Claire glanced over her shoulder, trying to see anything, anyone. Sandoval had made sure she wouldn’t jump off and run by tying her legs to each stirrup. Her hands were bound, as were Jimmy’s, but her brother’s feet were free.
If Logan tracked them, how far behind would he be?
Not far, Claire decided, since Sandoval had noticed.
She steadied herself, and hoped to God she was doing the right thing.
“Jimmy,” she said quietly into his ear. “I want you to escape. A man named Logan is tracking us. Go back the way we came and find him.”
To Jimmy’s credit he didn’t flinch, or jerk around, or raise his voice.
“I’ll let you down very carefully,” she whispered. “Hide until we disappear from sight, then run as fast as you can.”
Jimmy’s slight shoulders rose and fell and he nodded, his head bumping her chin. Claire watched Sandoval’s back as they moved through the muddy terrain, the rain pounding the ground. With her fastened hands she awkwardly pushed Jimmy’s left leg over the pommel; he swiveled and faced the right side of the horse. Raindrops dripped into her eyes as she struggled to focus on a dense mass of shrubs nearby; she squeezed Jimmy’s leg, alerting him to be ready.
In one fluid movement she moved Jimmy to the ground. Arm and stomach muscles trembled in denial, spent beyond their limits, and Claire’s heart pounded in her ears. She sat upright as if nothing had happened, all the while not taking her eyes from Sandoval. There was a dash of movement as Jimmy disappeared behind a clump of brush. Shaking, she struggled not to bring attention to herself. Every second that passed gave Jimmy a little more time to escape.
Claire blinked rapidly, her tears lost in the rain that struck her face. She needed to prepare for Sandoval’s retribution when he discovered Jimmy was gone—to buy her brother as much time as she could. Hopefully, it would be enough.
But thoughts of what Sandoval would do sent a nauseating fear spiraling through her stomach. So much for feeling bold. She focused on Logan. She had dreamed of happy endings, and for a brief time her heart believed he’d brought one to her. Panic gripped her, mingled with regret. In the end, she’d been foolish to hope.
* * *
Harry Myers and Frank Griffin were a dangerous threat, but it was Dee who posed the greater risk to Logan. For the past day and night, he kept a wary eye on the two men, but it was Dee’s sad countenance and inquisitive questions about him and his life during the last two years that tugged at him in a way far more hazardous than anything the men did.
Logan didn’t love Dee—not exactly—but seeing her and spending time with her brought back a wealth of regrets he thought he’d laid to rest. He suspected he never would again trust her, but she seemed…in need. Her brother appeared to be a part of it—Frank didn’t treat her well—and Logan felt a twinge of obligation toward her. An unwanted sentiment. He wondered if it was his lot in life to be played the fool twice.
Side by side with this confusion was a driving desire to find Claire. Once he had her at his side, he’d be able to think more clearly. Being without her, wondering if she’d been harmed, constantly gnawed at him and chipped away at his patience, pushing his mind to the edge of crippling frustration.
The rain let up, and in the gloomy aftermath of the storm the flat light gave the forest an otherworldly appearanc
e, its hues drained to ashen colors. The damp smell of water-logged trees permeated the air and Logan’s clothes clung to his skin. He glanced at Dee as she pushed at her wet hair; the moisture that hovered in the forest made them all uncomfortable.
Movement in the trees caught Logan’s attention, and he withdrew his gun as Griffin dismounted his horse. A scrawny, wild boy ran from the mist and Frank grabbed him, the youth screaming from the rough handling.
“Jimmy!” Griffin yelled. “Goddammit! Settle down.”
“No! No!” Jimmy struggled to escape Frank’s grasp.
Griffin slapped the boy across the face, sending his slight body into a heap on the ground. Logan swiftly covered the distance separating him from Claire’s little brother and hit Frank square in the jaw. Damn that felt good. Myers rushed him from behind, but Logan jammed an elbow into his face and yanked the man’s gun from his hand. He kicked him in the stomach then aimed his firearm at Myers, who struggled to catch his breath amid blood running down his face.
Logan heard the click of a hammer and a sidelong glance told him Frank had upped the ante. Holding Jimmy by the hair, Griffin pointed a pistol at the boy’s head. Jimmy’s hands were bound by rope but the flash of defiance Logan saw in the boy’s eyes made him realize the youth was foolish enough to take on Griffin himself.
“Drop it,” Griffin said.
Logan dropped the guns he held. Myers scrambled to pick them up.
“I sher hope you didn’t break my nose,” he whined.
Taking one of the pistols by its long barrel, Myers cuffed Logan across the cheek, snorting with satisfaction. With sheer willpower Logan struggled not to retaliate, letting his anger pour into the look he gave Myers. With uncertainty, Myers stepped back.
“Tell us where Maggie is,” Griffin said to Jimmy.
The Dove Page 16
