Logan watched the boy. There was a strong resemblance to Claire—the same blond hair, angular face and eyes haunted by a life neither of them wanted.
“I’ve been lookin’ but I can’t find her,” Jimmy responded. His eyes shifted. “Are you Logan?”
Logan nodded.
“I’ve been prayin’ but I don’t think it’s gonna help. He’s gonna kill her.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Griffin demanded.
“Sandoval has Claire,” Jimmy said.
Logan’s blood ran cold. “Where?”
“Up ahead. I’ve been runnin’ awhile, but if you go the way I came you might find her. But you gotta hurry!”
“Well shit, I ain’t chasing after Claire if Maggie’s not with her,” Griffin said. “Sandoval can have her for all I care. Tell me where your mama is, James, and I won’t have to hurt you.” His grip tightened in Jimmy’s hair, making the boy flinch.
“I told you, I don’t know.” Tears formed in Jimmy’s eyes. “I lost her days ago, where the spiders were.
“That right?” Griffin replied. “That place is about half a days ride from here.”
“See, I told you I knew where we was goin’,” Myers piped in.
“That remains to be seen,” Griffin muttered. “I doubt she’s still there, Jimmy. Where is she now?”
“I dunno.” The boy’s face crumbled in desperation.
“This is bullshit!” Griffin struck the boy across the face again.
“Stop it!” Dee yelled. “Quit hitting him, Frank!” She spilled herself from the saddle.
When she stepped forward, Logan saw the gun in her hand. The weapon trembled as did her hands, both gripped tightly around the handle.
“Do you think beating him is going to give you the answer you want?” she asked. “We’re wasting time. We should try to find Sandoval, and Claire, too. If Harry can’t find Maggie then maybe they can. We can’t let them get to her first, can we?”
Griffin stared at her. “Put the gun down, Dee. You wouldn’t like the consequences.”
Fear crossed Dee’s face and she swallowed hard. “All right, I’m sorry.” She slowly lowered her arms. “But he’s just a child.”
“Don’t ever tell me what to do again.” He shoved Jimmy toward her. “You like him so much, you take care of him.”
Griffin stepped forward, eye level with Logan, and assessed him with undisguised malice. “I’ve tolerated you for Dee’s sake, but if you hit me again I won’t be so tolerant. I’ll hurt those you care about the most.”
“The way you hurt those closest to you?”
“Whatever it takes to keep them in line.” He approached Dee and yanked the gun from her hand. “I think Myers and I’ll keep the guns.” He removed Logan’s rifle from the scabbard on Storm’s saddle.
Logan maintained his stance, hoping Griffin wouldn’t do a body search.
“At least untie his hands,” Dee said, her arm around Jimmy’s shoulder.
Griffin paused and considered his son. He pulled a knife from a sheath on his waist and cut the ropes around Jimmy’s wrists. “We’ll look for Sandoval.” He moved to his horse while Myers eyed the situation with suspicion.
“Jimmy can ride with me,” Logan said.
Dee glanced up from her inspection of the raw skin around Jimmy’s wrists and nodded. “Let me bandage these.”
“You better be damn quick about it,” Griffin’s voice boomed.
Logan felt a surge of urgency as well. Every second counted for Claire. “Give ‘em to me, I’ll do it on horseback.”
“I don’t know why you’re mixed up in all of this,” Dee murmured. “Frank isn’t an enemy you want to make.” She retrieved a handful of white gauze from her saddlebag and handed it to him. “You’re doing all of this for her?”
“There was a time when I would’ve done it for you.”
The revelation hung between them for a brief moment; Logan lifted Jimmy onto his horse then settled behind him. Although he still had Claire’s horse, Jimmy seemed too weak to ride alone.
“Who are you?” Jimmy asked him.
Logan kicked his horse forward.
“Hold the reins while I bandage you. I’m Claire’s husband.”
Jimmy gripped the leather straps. “Then that would make you…my brother?”
Logan quickly bandaged Jimmy’s wrists. “Yeah, that’s about right. You’re a part of my family now.”
Logan took back the reins and Jimmy’s hand came to the cheek Griffin had struck twice.
“That’s good. I’ve been hoping for a new family for some time now.”
“Things are changing, Jimmy. I’m here to see to that.”
The boy craned his neck to look at Logan. “Claire must love you a lot, ‘cause she always said she’d never get married.”
Logan wasn’t sure about the love part, but it gave him reason to hope.
Chapter Seventeen
Claire fell to the ground when Sandoval struck her face.
“Where is he?” he yelled.
Her head spun and the trees swayed. She knelt on her hands and knees, and struggled to suppress the images flying through her mind of the last time he’d done this. The fear, and the agony of that fear, caused her stomach to rebel, and with violent convulsions she vomited what little she had inside her.
Tears dripped from the end of her nose. With a shaking hand, she wiped the edge of her mouth and her wrist came away covered in blood from where he’d hit her. She stifled a sob.
Sandoval grabbed her by the arms. “You thought to send him for help? The whelp couldn’t find his way around a shithouse. You’ve sent him to his death.”
“You were going to kill us anyway,” she said in a ragged voice, praying she had bought Jimmy enough time. The setting sun told her he’d been gone an hour, maybe more.
Sandoval stared at her. He laughed and shook his head. “Puta.” He brought his face close to hers. “Whore. You are nothing. You should get on your knees and beg for your life. You cast your ponsión negra on me all those months ago, but you don’t have your potions now, do you?”
“You killed Luttrell, didn’t you?” she asked, desperate to distract him.
“Luttrell was a stinkin’ rat, and Maggie spread her legs far and wide for him. But that won’t get her the prize. You want to spread your legs for me?” He grinned and caressed her cheek. He flicked his eyes downward. “Sangre.” His hot, tobacco-scented breath burned her face and she jerked her head to avoid the contact. “You bleed,” he said with disgust.
She saw the bright red stain on her shirt and sucked in air as if she were drowning, suddenly aware of the ache in her ribs. She closed her eyes, and wondered how quickly the end would come.
* * *
“How far ahead are they?” Logan asked Jimmy.
“A ways. I’m not sure. The sun’s moved since Claire told me to run and look for you.”
“Where’s your ma?” Logan asked and scanned the ground for the boy’s trail. He didn’t want to waste time going in the wrong direction, and he wasn’t about to trust Frank’s tracking skills.
Jimmy was silent then spoke so low Logan strained to hear him. “I think the spiders got her.”
“Spiders? Is she hurt somewhere?”
Jimmy shrugged, a flash of remorse crossing his face before he looked ahead again. “It’s Luttrell’s curse. The treasure has a curse.”
“What did Luttrell leave up here?” Logan asked quietly.
“I’m not sure,” Jimmy replied. “Gold, jewels, money. My mama didn’t know, but she’s been crazy tryin’ to find it.” Suddenly he sat up taller. “Are we goin’ the right way?”
“I hope so. I’ve noticed some of your tracks. You ran directly from Claire and Sandoval?”
Jimmy nodded. “He killed her once already. I don’t like him. I thought she was a ghost when I saw her.”
Logan’s gut tensed. “Did Sandoval hurt either of you?”
“He was gonna hurt Claire, but I lied and said I
could find Mama to save her, and it worked for a while. But I don’t know where Mama is ‘cause the spiders probably got her.” Jimmy’s voice wavered. “Comin’ here’s been nothin’ but bad luck.”
“There’s no such thing in my book,” Logan said. “And a curse is nothing more than a way to scare people. Scared people run away.”
“I was scared,” Jimmy said, his tone despondent. “I ran away.”
“But you turned around and came back. Everybody gets scared, Jimmy. Everybody runs at some point in their life. It takes more courage to stop and try to fix the wrongs. It took courage for you to find me.”
“I suppose. I just wanna go home.”
“Me too.”
* * *
Claire opened her eyes, the trees in her line of sight seemed askew. With her head hanging at an odd angle, she shifted her legs. They were numb and tucked beneath her; her arms were pulled behind her and tied around the trunk of a tree. In the dwindling daylight, shadows crisscrossed the orange mat of dried pine needles strewn across the ground. She moaned as she tried to sit back, her neck sore from the dead weight of her head.
She tried to remember what had happened.
Sandoval hit her with the butt of his gun. At least, she thought he might have. Her disoriented vision confirmed her left eye was swollen. He must have struck her, then tied her up once she was unconscious. Where is he now? She tried to moisten her dry mouth.
As she struggled to shift her position, she noticed her blouse was torn open, exposing her breasts, and her skirt was ripped.
Revulsion welled up inside her. Panicked, she couldn’t breathe. A sob escaped her throat, an anguished cry, and she frantically looked around to see if Sandoval was there, watching, waiting. He’s raped me. She couldn’t stop the defeated shudders that wracked her body. Gasping for breath, the truth of what happened was more than she could bear. In near darkness, her head rolled against the tree; she stifled her sobs as she stared without seeing, her body as cold as the surrounding damp forest.
And out of the mist, came her mama.
I must be dead.
Her mama stopped a few feet from her, disheveled, not the standard appearance she normally wore for the men and women of Las Vegas. She wore a long skirt, torn and ragged on the edges, once white but now streaked with dirt; and a heavy leather coat fell past her hips. Her hair was piled on top of her head—the way she had always worn it—and Claire thought it odd she would fix it while out in the wilderness.
“Who are you?” Maggie asked. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why did Sandoval take so much time playing with you?”
Claire was struck dumb. “You watched?” she whispered. “Why didn’t you help me?” She could barely get the words out.
“I’m no fool.” Her gaze was sharply bitter. Claire didn’t think it was possible to be hurt anymore, emotionally or physically, but her mama’s behavior toward her stripped another piece of flesh from her hide.
“Raul’s a dangerous man,” Maggie continued. “I don’t step in his path for anyone.”
“Then why are you here?” Claire said, unable to keep the scorn out of her voice.
Seconds stretched into minutes. When Claire glanced up again, she saw her mama staring at her, the horror apparent in her eyes.
“Claire.” Maggie’s voice pierced the silence. “Claire?” She stepped forward and knelt down, her eyes searching. “We never found you,” she said in anguish. “We looked, but we never found you.” She brought a hand to Claire’s face. “Where have you been? What happened to you?”
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Maggie shook off her shock and produced a knife from inside her coat. She cut Claire loose and gathered her into her arms. Claire sank into the embrace, a child again, soothed by the touch of the woman who created so much ambivalence in her heart.
“I didn’t know it was you,” Maggie said quietly, frantically. “If I had, I wouldn’t have stayed back while he hurt you.”
It wasn’t a few tears that dripped from Claire, but a torrent of emotion held back far too long. She couldn’t stop it, the force of it consuming her. Somewhere in the maelstrom, she said the word. Rape.
“What did you say?” Maggie asked, pulling back to look at her. “Were you raped during the attack outside Albuquerque?”
“No. Here…Now.” Tears flowed in a steady stream down her face.
“No, Claire.” Maggie took hold of her face. “Sandoval was rough with you but he didn’t rape you. Oh God, you thought I watched that and did nothing?”
“Are you sure?” she cried.
“I’m sure.” Maggie’s arms wrapped around her again.
The despair that consumed Claire began to slowly dissipate. Her mama may not have looked out for her, but someone had. But by the grace of God do we all walk the earth—Jack’s words. Solace began to creep into Claire’s soul.
“You’re bleeding,” Maggie said, examining Claire’s ribcage.
“It's nothing. We have to get out of here. Jimmy was with me but he managed to escape.”
“Thank God. Where's he gone? I’ve been crazed since I lost him.”
“We were being tracked. I sent him back to find help.”
“Tracked by who?” Maggie asked, her tone both accusing and worried.
“A man named Logan Ryan. He followed me from Texas.”
“Texas?”
“It’s a long story.” Claire sat up and wiped at her eyes.
Maggie removed her coat and gave it to Claire.
“I know about the land deed,” Claire continued. “And the treasure that Luttrell left up here.”
Maggie paused. “I don’t suppose Shorty McClaren showed up?”
“Yes.”
A light flickered in her mama’s eyes. “Did you marry him?”
“No, I married someone else.” Claire felt the edge of rebelliousness in her tone.
A voice echoed in the distance. “Mama.”
Both Claire and Maggie turned toward the sound as Jimmy ran toward them.
Maggie stood and clenched her fists. “Sonofabitch.”
Claire caught sight of Frank Griffin but directly behind him was Logan. Worry filled her, but seeing her husband also lifted a weight from her shoulders and she had to keep from running to him.
“Jimmy.” Maggie hugged him tight to her side. “You scared me somethin’ fierce.”
“I’m sorry.” He buried his face into her skirt. “I’m so glad the spiders didn’t get you.”
Claire stood and buttoned the coat to hide her nakedness as well as the dried blood covering her stomach. She saw Harry Myers and a woman she didn’t recognize.
“Who’s that man with Frank?” Maggie asked, as the group descended on them.
“That’s Claire’s husband,” Jimmy said.
Maggie cast a suspicious glance in Claire’s direction.
Logan dismounted and approached. “You all right?” he asked Claire.
She nodded, thankful beyond measure to see him, and a smile crossed her lips of its own accord. She wanted to fall into his arms but something about his stance made her hesitate. He took her hand and squeezed it. She noticed the bruise on his cheek, but Frank interrupted before she could voice her concern.
“Been lookin’ for you, Mags.” Griffin rested his rifle across his lap. His horse stopped several feet from them; Myers and the woman brought their animals side-by-side.
“You’re not welcome here,” Maggie said. “This is my land now.”
Griffin laughed. “That so? Mr. Logan Ryan here seems to think it’s his.”
Maggie glanced at Claire and Logan. “Did you really marry him, Claire?”
“Yeah, she did,” Logan answered. “And whatever greedy game you’re all playin’ is gonna stop now before someone gets hurt.”
“Spoken like a man who’s holding all the cards,” Griffin said with a surly laugh. “Where’s the money, Mags?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” he sneered.
“You’ve been up here for weeks. Don’t tell me you’ve found diddly-squat.”
“Even if I had, I damn well wouldn’t tell you.”
“You’ve sure turned into a devious little bitch. You probably burned down The Dove, too.”
“What are you talking about?” Maggie asked.
“Oh wait,” Griffin continued. “Claire was in charge, except none of us knew she was alive and well. Really sent a piss-shiver through Sandoval when he found out.” He laughed. “So, is it hardly a surprise the whole thing went up in flames a few days ago? You owe me for that.”
“Is this true?” Maggie asked Claire.
Claire nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how it happened.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No. Just Betsy and Ellie were there, and they got out.”
Maggie turned back to Griffin. “How do I know you didn’t burn it down? You could’ve killed someone.”
“Like you killed Luttrell?” Griffin asked.
“I didn’t lay a finger on him.”
“Not after he was dead. But maybe the local circuit judge would like to hear how you seduced my sister’s husband and stole all his money and land.”
“You’re one to talk. Don’t think I don’t know about you and Belle.” Maggie’s voice shook with anger.
“When one whore doesn’t please you, you just gotta look for another one.”
“I married you because I loved you, Frank.”
“What?” Claire gasped. “You’re married to him?”
“Best kept secret in town,” Griffin added. “Just like your devotion, Mags.”
“I don’t take kindly to betrayals,” Maggie said. “Whatever I did has been necessary.”
“Empty excuses, broken promises. Those won’t buy shit in this life.” Griffin shifted his rifle and aimed it at Maggie.
Claire watched as Logan, with lightning speed, pulled a small handgun from under his shirt and pointed it at Frank. He pushed Claire behind him as Maggie moved in front of Jimmy, and Claire strained to see in the near darkness, the forest growing black.
“I want the money,” Griffin said. “I wanted it months ago, but you thought you could toy with me. Sandoval nearly killed your precious Claire, but that didn’t seem to spark a sliver of reason into your head. I don’t care if Ryan owns the land. If I have to kill all of you, I will.”
The Dove Page 17
