Cherished (15 page)

She was inexperienced, that much was obvious
from the loco trail she was taking—and he’d bet his boots she was
bone-tired by now. He’d have her by dark, easily. Another hour, at
the most, he guessed, and then he’d give her a surprise she’d never
forget. Beneath his hat, Cole’s face wore an expression of taut
anticipation. His eyes gleamed like shards of blue ice as he
pursued Arrow’s all too visible trail.

* * *

Juliana looked around her in bleary
exhaustion. She had no idea where she was, except that she was on
the lip of a limestone walled canyon that zigzagged dizzyingly down
to a narrow ribbon of water far below. She’d been riding for hours,
heading west, hoping to eventually hit Cooper Creek. But the trail
was twisting and dangerous with unexpected drops and turns, and the
mountains kept getting in her way. She could go no farther tonight.
Storm clouds were gathering in a sky that had turned an odd,
ominous shade of cobalt blue. A cold wind sliced through the trees,
and every few moments heat lightning seared the sky.

Up on the plateau, overlooking the high
canyon, Juliana was afraid.

“Don’t worry, boy. We’ll he all right.” She
patted the pinto’s scruffy mane as she spoke to him, but it was
really herself she was trying to reassure. There was a world of
difference between traveling through this immense, mountainous
country in a stagecoach, with a driver to look after her and a host
of other passengers for company, and riding it alone. She felt as
tiny and insignificant as a dormouse in this vast, fierce land. The
endless expanse of sky, towering rocks and sculpted mountains, and
the deep-shadowed, scented forests along the Mogollon Rim
threatened to swallow her up, and she felt as though she might
wander forever through the wilderness and never glimpse another
soul, much less a town or outpost of civilization.

Stories of Apache atrocities kept creeping
into her head, much as she tried to banish them. Every time a
branch rustled in the wind, or a pebble rolled underfoot, she
thought she was about to be attacked. If not by Indians, then by
some wild creature or—and her heart pounded painfully in her chest
every time she thought of it—by Cole Rawdon, who was no doubt ready
to kill her without a second thought. She knew he was her most
likely source of danger, if not an exclusive one, and she would
have to hide from him with all the cunning she possessed if she was
ever going to make it to Cooper Creek.

At least, he hadn’t been able to set out
after her immediately, she thought, clutching the reins more
tightly between her sweating palms. That was something to be
thankful for.

With any luck, she’d find a town and a place
to hide before he could buy himself another horse.

With any luck
. Yes, she would need
luck. And she’d need her wits about her. Remembering the murderous
expression in Rawdon’s eyes when she’d wheeled the pinto about, she
felt a twisting of apprehension in her stomach. If he caught up
with her ...

She couldn’t let him. Despite the risks of
Apache, snakes, mountain lions, losing her way, of being unable to
find food or water, she knew with every ounce of her being that
Cole Rawdon’s getting his hands on her would present the worst
danger of all.

Opposite the canyon, on the other side of the
trail, stretched a ragged stand of aspen and pine trees that opened
onto a flat, grassy expanse. This area was sheltered by the wall of
yet another massive gray cliff rising up to a sheer point above. It
looked like the best place to make camp that she’d seen in a while.
But why couldn’t it be a cave?
Juliana thought in despair.
She needed shelter from the storm. When the rain came, as she was
certain it would at any moment, she would be at its mercy,
completely unprotected. But there was nothing she could do about
that now. There was no time to go farther, in search of one, for
both darkness and the storm would close in on her any moment now.
Besides, she was too exhausted to ride another step. Every muscle
in her body cried out in agony, begging for rest.

At least this spot was secluded, she told
herself, sliding from the saddle in one weary movement. Cole Rawdon
could never find her here in the middle of this huge mountain, one
among so many. Glancing about, she saw that there was no indication
of movement from any direction. Only the leaves shuddering in the
rising wind. Before her, far across the canyon, there were rising
forests of pine, as deep and impenetrable as dark, looming clouds.
Behind her rose the gray-and-red granite cliff, nearly touching the
sky.

Well, at least the trees and the storm and
the encroaching darkness would help to conceal her camp, she told
herself, trying to be grateful for the isolation of this place.
Cole Rawdon, if he was still following her, couldn’t possibly track
her here.

For tonight
, Juliana whispered to
the pinto, as she led him to an aspen,
we’ll be safe. Wet,
perhaps, and cold, but safe
.

Rest, how she needed rest. It was almost
beyond her strength to see to the pinto and then sink down onto the
grass with Cole Rawdon’s saddle pack before her. The wind had
picked up. It blasted around her now in a rising gale, whipping at
her hair as she ransacked the pack, one by one rifling through the
bounty hunter’s supplies.

This is better than gold
, Juliana
exulted as she eagerly examined the contents. There was an oilcloth
coat, which she could cover herself with when the rain came, and
also a folded bedroll and extra saddle blanket tucked inside, along
with a canteen filled with water. Juliana’s spirits rose with the
discovery of each treasure. She found two flannel shirts and pairs
of trousers, razor blades, and a strange little wood carving of a
horse, but she was mainly interested in the food: strips of dried
beef jerky, the remains of some hardtack biscuits, a tin of coffee,
and some campfire utensils, along with a knife and tinderbox.
Thank you, Mister Cole Rawdon
, she thought, not without
satisfaction, as she wrapped the blanket and the oilskin around her
and settled down against the cliff wall with the jerky and
biscuits. Her stomach growled its hunger as she took her first
bite. How many hours had it been since that meal in the Cedar Gulch
hotel? It seemed an eternity since then, but at least she was free,
free of Cole Rawdon and Cash Hogan and John Breen and all the other
monstrous men in the world.
For the moment
, she reminded
herself. Fear sliced through her every time she thought of the
deadly fury on Rawdon’s face when he had seen her riding off on his
pinto, right out from under his nose. But she didn’t want to think
about what would happen if he caught up with her. He wouldn’t, she
told herself with forced bravado. She had outmaneuvered him today,
hadn’t she? All she had to do was keep a sharp lookout, stay one
step ahead of Cole Rawdon, and steadily make her way west. She’d be
bound to hit upon a town sometime tomorrow, surely, and then she
could inquire about the way to Cooper Creek. And as soon as she
found Wade and Tommy, Cole Rawdon wouldn’t be such a threat. With
them and their gang, experts at eluding trouble, she’d be safe.

Safe. To think that her brothers and safety
could be less than a hundred miles away filled her with a buoyant
hope that could not be destroyed by the oncoming storm. As Juliana
hugged her arms around her, a blast of wind ripped in from the
north, sending ice-cold chills over her. She couldn’t give up, she
insisted to herself, shivering, while darkness fell over the
clearing like a heavy woolen shroud. She would make it through this
storm and this night, and tomorrow would bring her that much closer
to Wade and Tommy.

She tried not to let herself think about what
it would be like here in this desolate spot once the storm began.
It was starting now, she realized, as a smattering of drops fell
onto her head, and the grass began to blow as if it would be ripped
from the earth. Huge drops pelted the trees, the cliff wall, the
rocks and brush, striking Juliana’s small figure as she huddled
beneath the oilskin. Suddenly, lightning struck, so close that the
pinto reared up screaming its panic, and Juliana cried out. She
half rose, then froze in terror as from the darkness above,
dropping down into the clearing directly before her like a
monstrous phantom, sprang a dark, massive figure.

She screamed, but the sound was bit off by
the roar of the wind. Then she saw with a gasp of dread that the
apparition before her was not a phantom at all. While thunder
crashed around her like cannonballs, she stared in transfixed
horror into the gleaming eyes of Cole Rawdon.

Juliana bolted sideways and started to run,
even as he lunged for her. His hands closed over the oilskin and it
whipped from her back, but she never paused, crashing headlong
through the rain, not knowing where she ran or how she would
escape, knowing only that she had to get away from him. She slipped
on the wet grass but stumbled on, unable to hear his pursuit for
the wind and rain. She skittered desperately forward, seeking the
path, the trail, but it was too dark to see ...

Rain poured down her face, soaked her hair,
her cheeks, blurred her vision. She whirled sideways, first one
way, then another, searching frantically for the trail. She saw
from the corner of her eyes that he was upon her. She threw herself
forward into the murky darkness and realized too late that she had
overshot the trail, she was at the edge of the precipice, hurtling
over the lip of the canyon, and that there was nothing below but
jagged rocks and stream. Her scream died in her throat. She knew in
that instant she was going to die, even as she teetered backward,
trying to save herself. The wind struck her, knocking her forward
and she saw below a vast black chasm. The instant that she hovered
there on the brink seemed an hour, a year, a lifetime. As she felt
herself falling forward into the nothingness, she was grasped so
fiercely from behind that the breath swept out of her, and Cole
Rawdon hauled her back.

He dragged her backward and threw her down
upon the ground and pinned her there with the weight of his body,
gazing down in pure fury into her terrified face.

“Damned idiotic bitch. I ought to have let
you fall,” he shouted at her over the blast of the wind. He was as
soaked as she; his black hair streamed into his eyes, but that only
seemed to emphasize the ferocity of his appearance. Juliana, held
helpless beneath him, with rain pounding into her face, streaming
in rivulets down into her neck to soak her flesh, could do nothing
but stare up at him, too stunned by what had almost happened to her
to speak.

“You don’t even have the sense to find
shelter from the rain!” he yelled. “I should leave you here to
drown!” As suddenly as he had thrown her down, he dragged her to
her feet. Driving wind buffeted them but he managed to propel her
along the track, around a sharp bend, and then they scrambled down
a ravine. He half dragged, half carried her, and none too gently.
Juliana lost track of all direction, but the next thing she knew
they were at the mouth of a cave. He pushed her ahead of him, and
she saw at once Cash Hogan’s bay horse tethered well inside the
opening.

Shelter. She stumbled in gratefully, stooping
a little due to the low rock ceiling. Outside, the vicious rain
slashed, and thunder filled the sky with a deafening roar that
echoed through the mountains, but here it was dry, blessedly dry,
and she hurried in as far as she could get from the opening. Then
Cole Rawdon grasped her, and before she even realized what was
happening, he had tied her wrists together with rope. He forced her
to the ground, ignoring her protests, and bound her ankles as
well.

“You’re just enough of a damned fool to run
off again while I’m gone,” he said. He pulled the knot about her
ankles tight, and Juliana winced.

“Where are you going?” Panic shone in her
face. “You’re not leaving me alone—like this?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Where are you going?” she demanded, trying
to shake the wet streaming hair from her eyes. “I insist that you
untie me at once.”

But he merely turned his back on her, and
stalked out, vanishing through the cave opening and into the
violence of the storm.

He’s mad
, Juliana thought. She
struggled uselessly against the rope.
I’ve been trapped in here
by a madman —a madman who despises me. He won’t kill me
, she
told herself, trying to stay calm. But there were other things a
man could do to a woman, she knew, things that were worse than
murder. Remembering the expression on Cole Rawdon’s face when she’d
stolen his horse, Juliana knew he would be capable of anything.

She didn’t know how long she sat there,
terror building as to what would happen when he came back. But
eventually a new fear took hold: What if he never came back? What
if he had just left her to starve to death here in this cave, as
revenge for taking his horse? What if lightning had struck him, or
he’d tumbled over a cliff or been killed by a falling rock or ... A
dozen hair-raising possibilities presented themselves, all of which
resulted in the same thing—she would be trapped here, helpless, to
face slow, agonizing death.

Juliana fought the urge to scream her terror
and frustration at the top of her lungs. She clamped her lips
together, bit back sobs, and wrestled against the ropes. Every time
lightning zigzagged across the blackness outside, every time the
wind tore through the trees, and with each passing minute of
drumming rain, Juliana’s fear mounted. She twisted and turned,
chafing against the rough rawhide that bound her, but all she
succeeded in doing was rubbing her wrists and ankles raw. The ropes
stayed taut.

Just when she thought she would go mad with
frustration, that she would start to scream and never stop, he
returned, stamping through the entrance of the cave with the
frightened pinto in tow, and the saddlebag and gear he’d been able
to recover from the clearing as well.