A Lady of the West (26 page)

“Did he have the women with him?”

By now Shandy was shaking so hard his teeth were clattering together. “No, I swear he didn't.”

Jake's finger tightened imperceptibly on the trigger. “I think you're lying to me, Shandy. The women aren't here. Garnet had to take them.”

Shandy began wagging his head back and forth. “I swear, I swear,” he babbled.

“He ain't lyin', Roper,” someone else in the group said quickly. “I seen the women leave before the shootin' ever started. They lit out from the barn, ridin' west, in the opposite direction from Garnet.”

Jake turned to Luis. “Get me a lantern.” He lowered the hammer back into position, but looked Shandy right in the eye. “If you're lying to me, you won't see sunrise.”

He, Ben, and Luis walked to the barn. Sophie was gone, as well as Emma's and Celia's mounts. The men used the lantern to examine the dirt floor of the barn, but too many people had been through it in the last half hour for him to be able to tell anything for certain. They walked outside, where he picked up Sophie's track with ease. He followed it for thirty yards, reading the sign.

“Just three horses,” Ben said.

“Carrying light weights,” Luis added.

Jake straightened, an incredible rage rushing in to displace despair. “The goddamn little fool, I told her to stay in the house.” Now she had taken Emma and Celia out there, when none of them had the slightest idea how to survive or even find their way. Worse, Garnet was out there, too. Though he had headed in the opposite direction, he could have seen the women leave and veered around once he was safely away.

Ben rubbed a weary hand over his face. “We can't track them in the dark, Jake.”

“I know.” Even if he followed them with a lantern to pick out the tracks, a light would be visible for a long way at night. Not knowing who he was, the women would evade him; meanwhile Garnet could pick out his location. Every muscle in Jake was drawn tight, but there was nothing he could do. They'd have to wait until dawn before starting the search, even though that would give Garnet more time, too.

He was furious and his temper grew worse the longer he thought about it. If she had done what he'd told her, they would be safe right now instead of
wandering alone in the wilderness. He only hoped she'd have sense enough to find shelter for the night.

“We've still got a lot of work to do,” Ben said, interrupting his dark thoughts. “Like you said, this was only about a third of McLain's men. We might have some fighting still ahead of us, especially if Garnet joins up with them.”

Jake grunted. “I don't look for him to do that. Garnet won't fight if he thinks it's anywhere close to an even match, and we pretty much evened it up tonight. But, yeah, some of the other gunnies might make a stand.”

Ben put a hand on Jake's shoulder. “We'll find them tomorrow,” he said, but he, too, wondered. A lot could happen to three women alone on the land.

Victoria was forced to call a halt for the night. Though her instincts told her to keep going, Celia was unused to riding very far even at a walk. Long before midnight the girl was in a great deal of pain, though she didn't whine about it. It wasn't until they stopped to relieve themselves that Victoria realized what Celia had been enduring, because she burst into tears as she slid to the ground.

“We'll have to rest,” Emma said. “She can't go any farther.” She rubbed her own bottom, wincing a little. “I think I'm going to be sore, too.”

Victoria looked around trying to find some sort of shelter, but there was still no moon to aid her. All she could see was the black masses where trees grew. Well, at least the trees would shield them. She put her arm around Celia's shoulders. “Can you walk just a little way, up to those trees?” she asked, pointing to the right.

Celia nodded, fighting her tears. “Yes. I'm sorry. I know we should keep riding.”

“So we should, but we're all tired and so are the horses. If we don't let them rest, they won't do us any good tomorrow.”

They trudged slowly up the rock-scattered hill to the treeline and found a grouping of boulders that blocked off most of the wind. Victoria and Emma unsaddled the horses and gave them water, then tied them where they could graze. When they returned, Celia had arranged their blankets and divided up three small portions of food.

Victoria sank down on a blanket and gratefully accepted the bread and cheese, which she washed down with water. Now that she was sitting she realized how tired she was. Exhaustion washed over her; she barely tasted the food, but didn't dare sleep.

Fighting off the urge to lie down, she rested the rifle across her legs. “I'll watch while you two get some sleep.”

Celia stretched out, groaning, and was asleep in only a moment. Emma came over to sit beside Victoria. “Do you really think it was Sarratt?” she asked, keeping her tone low to avoid disturbing Celia. “How could it be after all these years?”

Victoria sighed. “I don't know. It was just that the Major was so sure, and he was so frightened. He sat up nights watching for them, did you know? He didn't sleep. I'd hear him all night long, sitting in there talking to himself, and sometimes he'd come in my room and tell me what they would do to me—”

She broke off and Emma swiftly hugged her. “I know I shouldn't say it, but the Major is mad. You know that, don't you?”

“Oh, yes, I know.”

“Then why would you believe anything he said?”

“Because he is mad, not stupid.” Victoria stared out at the night. “Because someone shot at me. Because I couldn't think of any other reason—”

“Don't you think the Major has made more enemies than just the Sarratts?” Emma asked with the sweet voice of reason. “It could be anyone.”

Victoria couldn't prevent a low chuckle. “Does it really matter? An enemy is an enemy.”

“You're right, of course. It doesn't make any difference who shot at you, the intent remains the same.”

“How comforting!”

They laughed quietly together for a minute, then Emma sobered. “How long do you think it will take us to get to Santa Fe?”

“I don't know. Surely we can travel faster than before, when we rode in the wagon.”

“Unless we get lost.”

“We'll turn south in the morning. We'll meet up with someone on the way, and we'll ask directions.”

“Do we dare?”

Victoria touched the rifle. “I'm willing to use this.”

They were silent for a while, listening to the wind in the trees. Emma said, “The Major could come after us, you know. Or send Garnet. Whatever the trouble was at the ranch tonight, it's possible they handled it.”

That had occurred to Victoria, and she had decided she would not take Celia and Emma back to that ranch. “I'll do whatever's necessary.” It was so hard to say that she shuddered, then quickly masked her reaction by saying, “I'm becoming chilly. Why don't you try to sleep, rather than keeping me company? I'll be fine.”

“Will you wake me in a couple of hours? You need to sleep, too.”

“Yes, of course.”

Victoria thought of a lot of things, sitting alone in the darkness. She wondered what had happened at the ranch, because as Emma had said, it could have been anyone. She wondered if she should contact the authorities in Santa Fe to get help, and if anyone would respond even if she did ask them.

She worried about Celia. She should never have brought her out West. Now she could only hope that her little sister would eventually forget some of the awful things and learn to trust men again.

Jake … Her thoughts eventually, inevitably turned
to him, and she almost whimpered aloud from the pain. Why had he left without a word after all that had passed between them? She remembered the way he'd kissed her, the times she had even allowed him to fondle her breasts. Was that why he'd left, because she had demeaned herself to him by allowing him those intimacies?

Did the why really matter? He had left, and she had to face the bitter reality that he hadn't returned her feelings at all. He had wanted to bed her, nothing more.

She meant to wake Emma, she really did, but she sat for so long with her harsh thoughts, and she was so tired, that she didn't notice when her eyes drifted shut.

“Victoria, wake up. It's after dawn.” Emma shook her until Victoria sat up, yawning.

“Why didn't you wake me?”

“I meant to. I fell asleep.” Alarmed, Victoria scrambled to her feet. She drew a little breath of relief when she saw that everything appeared normal. Emma and Celia had managed to build a small fire, and Celia was rather competently cooking potatoes and bacon. Coffee was bubbling in the kettle.

The sun was already shining, but the morning was still crisp and cool. She sought privacy to attend to her needs, then returned to freshen her face and hands with a dampened handkerchief.

They were all inordinately hungry and devoured the simple meal. Celia vigorously rubbed her abused rear when she stood.

“Will you be able to ride?” Victoria asked, concerned. Her own muscles were twinging, so she could imagine how Celia felt.

“Yes,” Celia said, then added darkly, “but I won't like it.”

Victoria laughed, but Emma grabbed her arm,
cutting her off as she pointed to the east and said, “Look.”

Victoria squinted her eyes, then saw the riders. They were silhouetted on top of a ridge by the huge red morning sun. She couldn't tell exactly how many there were.

Cold fear seized her. She whirled and kicked dirt on the fire. “Quick, saddle the horses!”

Distances were deceiving out on the land. The riders had looked so close only because the sun had been behind them; they were at least several miles away and couldn't have seen the women. Unless smoke from the campfire had given them away. .. .

Sophie chose that morning to be frisky, dancing away as Victoria struggled to get the saddle on her back. “Stop it!” she said sharply, fighting her panic. If Sophie sensed her fear, she'd never get her saddled.

They climbed on rocks to mount. Emma jumped down from her gelding and raced toward the fire. “I am
not
leaving the frying pan behind,” she said. “It's the only pan we have.”

Luckily, the frying pan had cooled enough that she didn't burn her hand when she snatched it up. She ran back to the rocks, and Victoria took the pan and stored it in her saddlebag while Emma remounted.

They didn't dare turn south now; that direction would insure that the riders cross their trail. Victoria put her back to the sun and kicked Sophie into a run.

Celia hung on with grim determination and her little mare tried valiantly to maintain pace with their larger mounts. Still Victoria and Emma had to rein in their horses to permit Celia to stay with them. Victoria cast several anxious looks over her shoulder, but the riders had descended from the top of the ridge and were lost from sight. She prayed that they weren't from the ranch at all, but were merely passing through and wouldn't pay any attention to their trail.

They gained the top of a crest and Victoria reined
in, turning Sophie so she could watch the direction from which they'd come.

“Why are you stopping?” Emma cried, wheeling her own mount around.

“I want to see where they are. They might not be after us.”

They waited, straining their eyes for sight of the riders. It was their ears that picked it up first, the distant rumble that sounded like thunder, though the sky was clear. Victoria waited, her mouth dry.

The riders topped another ridge, and her heart almost stopped. They were much closer than she'd feared, riding hard, and straight at them.

“Dear God.
Run!”

She tried to think, but her brain felt numb. She knew it had to be either Sarratt or Garnet. Either meant death.

Celia was riding with her jaw set, though her face was pale. Victoria held back Sophie's long strides and positioned her on one side of Celia's mount, while Emma took up the other side. Better if Celia had taken another horse from the stable, but they hadn't thought of it. Now placid but slow Gypsy might well mean the difference between them getting away or being caught.

The landscape was changing, becoming gradually more dry and barren as the trees gave way to rock and shrub. A slight breeze picked up the fine dirt and blew it in their faces, covering them with grit. Victoria looked over her shoulder again, and again the riders were closer than they'd been before. She didn't recognize any of the men, but now she could see that they had pulled up their neckerchiefs to cover their faces against the grit. Their covered faces, even at a distance, were menacing.

She tightened her reins as they plunged headlong down a slope. Celia cried out and almost came off over Gypsy's head, but at the last minute Victoria
reached out and grabbed Celia's skirt, hauling her back into the saddle. They slid and plunged to the bottom, and Victoria cried, “Stop!”

They reined in the horses. Poor Gypsy was almost blown, but Emma's gelding and Sophie were still strong. Victoria jumped down. “Quickly, Celia, change horses with me!”

“I can't ride Sophie!” Celia cried, appalled, though she obediently slid to the ground.

“You'll have to. I'm a better rider, I can get more out of Gypsy than you can. You take the rifle,” she said swiftly to Emma. “Give me the pistol.”

Emma, too, obeyed, but her face twisted. “What are you doing?”

“We have to split up.” Victoria boosted Celia into Sophie's saddle, then she scrambled atop Gypsy. “Take Celia and ride east.”

“East!”

“Yes, due east, along the base of this ridge. There's more shelter that way, and perhaps they'll follow me instead of you. Sophie is a strong horse, she'll keep going a long time.”

“I can't leave you!” Emma shouted.

“You have to! You have to take care of Celia!”