Come Spring (36 page)

“Damn!” He cursed under his breath. It would be a long walk back.

He turned back to collect the hide and found himself face-to-face with two hundred pounds of mountain lion. The big cat was hunched over the deer carcass, its mighty paws with claws extended tearing into the deer. Broad nosed, its thick winter coat still more white than any other color, the feline let out a warning growl as it ripped off a mouthful of bloody meat.

Buck eyed the animal’s rich pelt and knew he had to have it, then realized his rifle was propped against a tree not six feet from the mountain lion. As the wary animal watched, Buck tried to inch his way sideways toward the gun.

“You’re a fool, Buck Scott,” he whispered to himself as he crept toward the gun. But he figured since the animal had more than enough to eat, he just might not mind a man getting a little closer.

The beast snarled again and Buck stopped. Pretending to draw back, Buck slipped his knife from his sheath. Darkness crept up the hillside and scattered itself beneath the trees and into the deep gullies. The temperature was dropping. A wolf howled somewhere behind him. Buck looked up at the sky and figured the odds were against him. He’d wait out the lion’s meal, collect his gun, and then slip down the mountain before he was forced to spend the night out in the cold.

He hunkered down with his back to a rock to wait, certain that once the big cat ate its fill it would leave. He kept his knife in his hand.

The wolf howl in the forest intensified. The cat snarled, louder this time, the sound piercing the air around Buck. The big animal began to pace back and forth, its tail moving from side to side as it watched the forest for the wolves that menaced its meal.

The heavy animal pawed about in a wider circle. Buck watched the powerful muscles bunch beneath the skin. The lion stopped, sniffed the air, and started to turn back to the deer carcass. Suddenly it paused, as if it remembered the man crouched nearby. The wolf howled again and before Buck could brace himself, the mountain lion marshalled its speed and strength and sprang, flying through the air toward him.

Buck’s knife flashed. He stood to try to deflect the assault. Agonizing fire ripped down his thigh as the big cat sank its claws into his left leg. Buck thrust his arm across his face, aiming to hit the animal in the throat.

They went down together, hundreds of pounds of man and animal as the cat pinned Buck to the ground.

It was so close he could feel the animal’s hot breath and smell the fetid scent of blood. Its slanted yellow-gold eyes were only inches away from Buck’s face.

The cat tried to sink its teeth into Buck’s forearm but he kept moving, dragging his flesh out of the animal’s grip. Finally, he lashed out in a final effort to save himself and felt a spurt of hot blood across his face as he buried his knife up to the hilt in the lion’s neck.

Gasping for breath, he jerked with all his strength, pulling the knife across the mountain lion’s throat.

The big cat collapsed on top of him, nearly crushing him with its weight.

Buck tried to drag himself out from beneath the mountain lion but found his strength had suddenly evaporated. His heart was still pounding from the rush of the moment, his breath jagged. A slow, burning ache had settled into his thigh. He felt the damp flow of blood even though his legs were still trapped beneath the heavy cat.

He tried to sit up, heaved with what little strength he had left, and managed to get the lion off him enough to where he could pull himself out from beneath it.

Even in the gathering dusk he could see that his pant leg was stained with his own blood. His sleeves were tattered, but the wounds beneath them didn’t seem to be as deep as the one on his leg.

Another howl broke the stillness in the clearing, the only other sound that was louder than his ragged breathing. He pulled himself across the uneven ground until he reached his rifle, then worked his way up to a sitting position against a tree. He looked at the ragged edge of his flesh beneath the torn fabric of his pants and whispered to himself, “Damn you, Buck Scott. Night’s comin’ on and you’re sittin’ here in the dark bleedin’ like a stuck pig.”

The wolves howled in tandem as he shook his head to clear it, then checked to be sure his gun was loaded. Let them come, he thought. Let them try.

He spotted a patch of snow beneath the tree that had escaped the early spring sun and grabbed handfuls to pack along his wound to try to halt the flow of blood that was beginning to pool beneath him. He wondered if the wolves were about to take their revenge.

A
NNIKA
knew that for as long as she lived she would never forget the trip down the mountain to Cheyenne. The bone-jarring ride on the back of the mule was only exacerbated by the fact that she had to cling to Buttons and worry about the child falling beneath the horses’ hooves. They had camped overnight in the woods and were treated to a cold meal—elk again—because Virge wouldn’t let the others light a fire.

She knew her so-called rescuers by name and had nick-named them all—Virge Clemmens, toothless; Cliff Wiley, the beanpole; and Denton Matthews, the barrel—and wondered why they hadn’t killed one another by now. The three argued incessantly, so much so that by the time they reached Cheyenne after two days on the trail, she wanted to scream with frustration.

It was dusk when they reached the outskirts of town. She dared to let herself feel hope and relief, knowing that soon they’d be turning her over to the authorities and Kase would be notified. By tonight she would be with her brother and his wife, sleeping in a clean bed, looking forward to Buck’s arrival at the ranch. She had hoped he would have found them before they reached Cheyenne and had taken every opportunity to delay the ride out of the mountains. When Baby cried, Annika did nothing to appease her, hoping the men would slow down or at the very least that Buck would hear them if he were searching nearby.

Once, when she had talked the men into letting her go into the woods alone to relieve herself, she managed to loosen one of the cinches as she passed by their mounts.

As it turned out, the loosened saddle had been Denton’s, and although the delay was slight, her satisfaction had been great when his saddle shifted and the big man fell off and began rolling down hill. Virge Clemmens had gotten as much of a laugh out of it as Annika, except he did not have to keep his silence. His obvious glee only worsened the animosity between the two men.

By the time they reined in outside a ramshackle house on the outskirts of Cheyenne, Annika knew three things for certain: Denton hated Virgil, Virgil hated Denton, and Cliff was scared.

They dismounted and Virge tied the mule’s lead rope to a hitching rail behind the house. He reached up for Baby. Before Annika let go of the child she asked, “What are we doing here? Why aren’t you turning us over to the police?”

She watched in dismay as Cliff and Denton ignored her and walked into the shabby house.

Virge took Baby from her. “You don’t need to be askin’ any questions, little lady. Just get on down from there and do as I say and you’ll be all right.”

By the time her feet hit the ground, she knew she was shaking from more than exhaustion. What were they up to? What about the reward? Virge handed Baby over to her and stepped aside to follow them across the wooden porch to the back door. The nearest house was two lots away and looked to be in the same condition. When she stepped over the threshold, a musty smell assailed her. The inside of the house was as dismal as the outside with its peeling paint, crooked shutters, and tattered curtains at the windows. Sparsely furnished with the bare necessities, it was cold and dark inside, and it appeared the men were content to keep the place that way.

“Pull down the shades and light a lamp,” Virge commanded the beanpole.

Cliff did as he asked while Denton rummaged through the dry sink in the kitchen searching for food.

Even Buttons sensed something was wrong. She started fussing and crying again. Cliff turned away from a window and said, “Keep that brat quiet, you hear? We ain’t out in the woods now.”

Attempting to make their lives as miserable as possible, Annika brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes and said, “She’s cold and tired and hungry, and so am I. I demand to know when you are taking us to the authorities.”

Denton turned on her. “You ain’t in no position to demand nothin’!”

Without thinking, she snapped back, “Do you think I’ll be willing to let you take ten thousand dollars from my family for treating me this way? I didn’t even want to be rescued in the first place!”

For a split second she was afraid he was going to hit her, but instead, he turned on Virgil. “Hear that, old man? She’s gonna bitch and moan and we’re not gonna get a dime.”

She wished they would stop arguing long enough for her to sit down, but their words grew more heated. Annika hoped that in their anger they might not see her slip out the back door, so she stayed on her feet clutching Buttons and watching for a chance to escape.

“If you want your share of the thirty thousand, you’ll shut up, Denton,” Virge warned.

“Thirty
thousand?” Annika couldn’t hide her surprise.

Clifford lit a lamp and held it aloft, the light casting his lean form into a skeletal shadow on the wall. He watched her nervously as he said, “Shut up, Virge.”

“This was the
stupidest
plan,” Denton railed. He pointed at Annika. “She’s gonna waltz into the arms of the law and tell ‘em she didn’t want to be rescued and then we’ll have nothing to show for our trouble but wasted time.”

“You’re more ignorant than I thought if you think we’re just gonna ride up and deliver her to the law. Hell no.” Virge slapped his forehead as if Denton were the biggest idiot alive. “We’re gonna write a ransom note to say we got her and the kid and then tell the sheriff where we’ll leave ‘em and where we want the money dropped off.”

“I’m a hostage?” Annika nearly laughed in disbelief. “I’ve been kidnapped again?” Disgusted, she walked out of the kitchen, found a rickety chair, sat down, then began to rock Buttons, who started crying again.

Annika leaned close and whispered in her ear. “You want Buck, don’t you?”

The crying turned to a high-pitched wail.

“I want him, too, but the bad men said no,” Annika prodded.

The wail turned into high-pitched shrieking. Buttons turned red.

All three men rushed into the room.

“What in the hell...?” Virge grumbled.

Cliff glanced anxiously at the door. “Get her to stop.”

“This is the stupidest...” Denton looked disgusted.

Virge pulled a gun on Denton. “If you say this is a stupid plan one more time I swear I’m gonna kill you.”

Annika clamped her hand over Baby’s mouth and tried to shush her.

“Aw, come on you two,” Cliff appealed to them both.

Cuddling Buttons close, Annika held her breath as the two men sized each other up. Virge held a gun on Denton as Denton eyed him warily but backed down.

Virge holstered his weapon. Annika breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. Cliff stepped back.

As Virge took command again, he moved toward Annika, turning his back on Denton.

Before anyone could move, Denton pulled his gun and fired.

Annika screamed and Buttons started shrieking again as Virge hit the floor, a bullet in his side.

“Aw, hell, Denton, what’d you go and do that for?” Cliff rushed to the fallen man’s side, knelt down, and slipped Virge’s gun from its holster before any more damage could be done. “He ain’t dead. It’s all right, Denton, Virge ain’t dead.”

Denton took a step toward Virgil, who was moaning and trying to right himself. “Then step outta the way, Cliff, ‘cause I’m gonna plug him till he is.”

Cliff shielded Virgil Clemmens with his own body and tried to appeal to his partner. “Listen, Denton, you’re right, this was a stupid plan. We don’t need him. Let’s just clear out and leave ‘em all. Let him have the ten thousand and the trouble.”

“That means we been through all this for nothing. At least step aside and give me the satisfaction of murderin’ that dad-blamed idiot!”

Rubbing his temples, Cliff appeared to be trying to think of a plan. Virge clutched his side and groaned very near Annika’s feet. Suddenly, Cliff’s frown cleared and he said, “I got it! We can tell ‘em Virge was holdin’ the girl hostage and we saved her and then we’ll get the money and he’ll be in jail, right back where he belongs. You won’t have to do no killin’ then, Denton.”

With a groan, Virge shook his head. “He’ll have to kill me. I’ll never go along with it.”

Finally, she could stand no more. Clutching Buttons close, shielding the child by pressing her face against her breast, Annika leapt to her feet and began shouting at all three of them. “Stop it! Just stop it right now!” She pinned them one at a time with a furious stare. “I will
not
spend another night with the three of you! As I see it, these are your options: you can take me to the authorities
now
and settle for the ten thousand and I won’t say a word about all of this because I just want to get away from your odious presence—”

“Our what?” Cliff said.

Regally straightening to her full height, Annika ignored him. “Or you can stand and argue among yourselves until one or more of you gets killed and winds up facing a murder charge. I hear they often hang murderers from the nearest tree out here in the wild west. Is that still true?”

Denton looked at Cliff. Cliff looked at Virge. Virge groaned.

“Well?” She tapped her foot, feigning impatience, demanding an answer. “I didn’t want to be rescued anyway. At least you’ll still get over three thousand each. Take it or leave it.” It was a terrible waste of Kase’s money, but she’d give anything to get away from them.

Denton, who continued to aim the Colt revolver at Virge, shot her an angry glare. “Think you’re high and mighty, do you, miss?”

“Not at all,” she said, patting the hiccuping child’s back. “But I do think I’m the only rational one here.” Bone weary and still wearing the heavy coat Buck had made for her, Annika faced them defiantly. She refused to back down now that they no longer represented a united threat.