Deep Trouble (23 page)

“Lurene!” Shannon couldn’t believe her eyes. “Why did you come after me?”

“You know exactly why.” Lurene crouched beside Gabe’s still body.

Shannon saw a trickle of blood from his temple where Lurene had smashed the butt of her gun.

“You didn’t give us the right map. I’m here to get it, and you’re going to take us where we want to go, or I’m going to kill your friend here.” She pressed her revolver to Gabe’s head.

“Anything, just please don’t hurt him.” Shannon didn’t even consider trying to bargain with these villains. They’d left her for dead and laughed about it. Murder was not beyond them.

She saw movement, and her eyes focused on Cutter, his gun trained on her. The Lloyd brothers stood to one side, a pace behind Cutter, Ginger to Cutter’s other side. All of them greedy and evil, with a thirst for gold riding with them.

“Get the papers, and we ride.” Lurene rose and stepped back.

The gun hadn’t been fired. Once Shannon left with them, Hozho could tend Gabe. The only one in danger because of Shannon’s quest was herself. Except a blow to the head could kill. So Gabe might well be dying even now.

“Darrel, saddle the horses for our two friends here.”

“Two?” Shannon tore her gaze away from Gabe.

“I see the way you look at him. We’re taking him along. Any time we need your cooperation, we point a gun at him.” Lurene moved her pistol toward Gabe’s still form.

The Lloyd brothers hurried to where the horses grazed, grabbing saddles as they passed.

“Any time you give us trouble, I’ll aim my gun at your man. As long as you work with us, he stays alive.”

The parson’s horse was the closest, and they began saddling him.

Shannon dreaded riding the cranky mustang.

“Let’s move fast before the others come back.” Cutter started saddling another horse.

“We know there are more of you.” Lurene’s eyes flashed in the firelight. “But we’ll take the map and you and this hombre here and leave them behind. Do you intend to behave, Miss Dysart?” Lurene addressed her formally, but with such a sneer Shannon’s throat went dry.

“I’ll cooperate.” Shannon groaned in pain as she pushed back her blankets. “But I fell earlier. I’m hurt. Can’t you just take the maps and go? I’ll slow you down.”

“You lied to us last time about the maps. We’re not letting that happen again. Let’s go.”

With rough shoves that nearly buckled Shannon’s knees, Lurene herded her to the closest horse, the fiery black mustang. She held her arm tight to her body, hoping the sling would support it enough not to reinjure the shoulder.

The Lloyds led the other horse up and slung Gabe over the saddle. Cutter must have realized Shannon couldn’t mount by herself because he caught her by the waist and boosted her up.

“Have you got the maps?” Lurene swung her gun toward Gabe.
“All
the maps?”

“Yes, I’m carrying them in my pocket. I have everything.” Which was true. There wasn’t much left. Just directions to that gap.

Shannon had much respect for Hosteen and Hozho in the wilderness, but she’d seen nothing to think they were capable of taking on five vicious outlaws. And they had no way to go for help.

“Which way, Miss Dysart, ma’am?”

Lurene’s mockery of respect didn’t even bother Shannon. She had too much at stake to be upset by words. She began praying, hoping they’d be spared a terrible end, and if they weren’t, she reached out for God and asked for forgiveness. Setting her soul right. It might be a good idea since it looked very much as if she’d soon be walking on streets of gold in heaven.

“To the left, we take that shelf right there.” The moon and stars lit up the canyon nearly like day, washing every bit of color out of the world and leaving it with a blue-black tint. Deep shadows were everywhere.

“Lead the way.” Lurene gestured with her gun. “And we’ll have your hero back here in case you make a break for it.”

Setting out, Shannon thought of how she’d fallen in the bright light of day. Every step on this narrow terrace was dangerous. She prayed that God would guide her steps and protect Gabe and forgive her for setting things in motion that had led to this madness.

Gabe came awake in a shaking, shimmying world. His stomach swirled with collywobbles. He didn’t move. He didn’t remember what had happened, but he sensed danger, and that didn’t make him a genius.

The throbbing in his head told him he’d been hurt. He slit his eyes open and saw… the underbelly of a saddled horse. He was hanging upside down. Doing his best not to visibly move, he looked side to side and saw riders ahead of him and behind him. Testing his hands, he found them free, drooping down nearly to the ground, but he felt ropes that must mean he was tied to the saddle. He was being carried.

Had he been hurt and, rather than let him heal, his stubborn little Shannon had strapped him down and headed on to her treasure?

That seemed rude. Not something Shannon would do. Usually.

A quick peek again told him the rider ahead was a man he didn’t know. Hard to see from this angle, but the man had broad shoulders and a tied-down gun on his left, which meant the man was either left-handed or he wore two guns. A gunman might do that.

Behind him rode a woman with hair the color of fire. No, this wasn’t his group. These people… they had to be the ones who’d stranded Shannon to begin with. Cruel, murderous thieves.

He was still muddled, and his head was in agony. The world swooped every time he turned his head. Since he wasn’t up to fighting and didn’t know what he was up against anyway, he decided to play at being unconscious for now and wait for a chance. A chance to fight, to get his hands on someone’s gun. To grab Shannon and shoot his way out to… where? He didn’t even know the way out of this place.

Did they have the Tsosis and Parson Ford, or had they grabbed him and Shannon and run? Was Shannon hurt, too? He couldn’t see past the riders behind and ahead. He thought of her arm and how much this would hurt and wanted to get his hands on a gun and punish these lousy coyotes.

With a sudden sickening throb of his head, Gabe felt the world spin, and he knew he wasn’t going to have to fake unconsciousness.

He awoke again when rough hands dragged him off his horse. He struck the ground with his shoulder and rolled to his back, remaining limp.

“Don’t hurt him!”

Shannon’s voice. She was alive! He felt someone land almost on top of him, heard the soft moan of pain and knew it was hers, being shoved around with her arm still so sore. “Gabe, are you all right? Gabe, please speak to me.” A trembling hand brushed his cheek.

It might have been wiser to continue to fake being knocked cold. It might give him an opening, but Shannon sounded near panic, and she’d faced everything else so bravely, he had to give her this assurance. “I’m awake.” He opened his eyes and looked into her milk-white face.

Pain had etched lines around her mouth and eyes. She lay half on top of him, her arm cradled to her stomach, still in a sling. “Gabe, oh Gabe, I’m so sorry.”

“You said you needed a break. Take it and get back here.”

Gabe’s eyes swung from Shannon to a woman, young, dark haired, evil. The hardness of that woman’s eyes told Gabe they could easily die before this was over. He scanned the area, saw five people in all. Two younger men, a redheaded woman, and an older man who looked strong as an ox, cool as ice, and mean as a rattler.

So, they hadn’t brought the Tsosis or Parson Ford. But had they just grabbed Gabe and Shannon and run, or were they left dead on the trail?

These people were surviving down in the canyon, so he didn’t underestimate their toughness, which meant they knew he and Shannon weren’t alone. Still, he wasn’t going to ask any questions that might alert this group to the others.

“Gabe, are you all right?”

A set of hands grabbed Shannon, and Gabe looked up at a sharp-eyed young man. There was greed in the way he reached for Shannon, and Gabe had to use steely self-control to keep from lunging at the man. Surely the greed was for gold, not to harm her. Because there was no doubt in Gabe’s mind who these people were and why they’d taken Shannon.

The dark-haired woman stepped close to him and crouched low, bringing her gun to Gabe’s temple. “She won’t run, Randy. She knows we’ll kill her partner here if she does, don’t you, Miss Dysart?”

Gabe hated that he was being used as a tool to torment Shannon. It made him a weakling, nothing but a stick to beat her with.

“I’m not leaving him. I told you I’d take you to where the map leads.” Shannon jammed her one healthy arm on her waist. “We’d all be right here if you hadn’t attacked me to begin with. We’d all be heading to the same place at almost the same time. If we really find a city of gold, it will be a treasure beyond what any of us can count. There will be plenty of it for everyone to be wealthy. There’s no need to keep threatening him or shoving me around.”

“Get going.” Randy stepped closer. “Lurene’s got your man covered, but if you’re hoping the folks we left behind are stupid enough to come after you, give that up. If they come, it’ll be better for them if they
don’t
catch us, so think hard before you slow us down.”

“I’ll hurry.” She turned, and a gasp of pain had her grab at her left arm and support it as she left the small grassy area where they’d stopped.

Lurene lifted the gun away from Gabe’s head, rose, and stepped away.

He heard the trickling sound of water and turned to see a spring. “Can I have some water before we go on?”

“Help yourself.” She kept the gun trained on him, cold amusement in her eyes, almost as if she wanted him to try something reckless and give her an excuse to pull the trigger.

He tried to sit up and almost fell flat. His head pounded as if a herd of longhorns were stampeding through his brain. His stomach jumped and swooped. Collywobbles. His arms and legs were numb, probably because his blood flow was all mixed up thanks to his hanging over that saddle for so long.

Deciding he wasn’t up to walking, he crawled to the spring. Wouldn’t hurt these folks to underestimate him. And maybe it wasn’t underestimating. Maybe he’d’ve fallen on his face if he’d’ve tried to stand.

He drank. The first splash of water ran cold all down his gullet into his belly. For a bit, he was afraid he might lose the water back up onto the ground. He fought the sickness. When his belly settled, he drank again. Bathing his face, he found a lump the size of one of Ma’s spring turnips on his skull, just above his right ear. He remembered hearing that gun cock from behind and expecting to die.

As the stampede in his head slowed a mite, he drank more and felt steadier. Not steady enough to take on five armed outlaws, but steady enough to think.

He had a knife in his boot. It wasn’t much. He flexed the muscles in his leg and shifted a bit and felt the hilt tucked in his boot, so they hadn’t taken it. This was no time to try and use it, with him and Shannon both hurt and with no direction to run.

Gabe said a prayer, and he felt more keenly than ever the absence of his big brothers. This crew would have a war on their hands if all seven Lasley brothers bought into this fight.

But of course they weren’t there. Gabe had done his best to strike out on his own. He’d spent a lot of years trying to live down being the youngest, proving himself to brothers who loved him just like he was, no proof required. And he’d left the friendships he’d made in Wyoming, too, still trying to prove something. Though that wasn’t the only reason he’d left. He admitted that in Wyoming, he’d had feelings that weren’t honorable for a married woman.

And now he’d met a woman who could make him forget Annette, and he might fail her like he’d failed his ma. Somehow Gabe’s whole life seemed as if it had led to this moment. Him, injured and useless. A woman counting on him who should have known better. Gabe wondered where he’d gone astray from God’s plan that had led him to such a place of worthlessness.

He drank again just as Shannon came back. Their eyes met, but Gabe knew the outlaws were paying close attention.

“Let’s move on.” The dark-haired woman seemed to be giving orders, but the older man didn’t seem like the type to take them.