Chapter Ten
“T
HAT ROUTE WILL ADD A WEEK TO OUR
journey. Why go up into New Mexico Territory and back down into Texas when we can just ride straight west?” Hunter frowned down at the crude map Sebastian had scratched in the dirt.
“It could add years to our lives.”
“You think Watkins’s men are that close?”
“I know they are.”
Hunter glanced at Leanne. She sat a few feet from them, fanning herself with her hat and looking as tired and dirty as he felt. They had been riding hard for three days, and now Sebastian was suggesting a detour that could make the remaining journey take ten days instead of four. He did not know if she could do it. But Sebastian was right; there was a very good chance that the roundabout route would be far safer than the one that Watkins’s men expected them to follow.
“She’ll be worn to the bone, but she’ll be alive,” Sebastian said, speaking quietly so that Leanne would not overhear.
“That’s true enough.”
“I hoped the time Charlie and Jed bought us would be enough to keep us a step ahead all the way to Little Creek. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. If we keep going straight, following the expected route, they’ll catch us for sure.”
“We’ll be riding through some dangerous country if we turn from this route.”
“True, but a lot of people do it and come through without an incident. We’ve got a hell of an incident sniffing at our heels. By my count, there’s twenty of the bastards bearing down on us. Even if we ride as fast as we can, they’ll be riding right over us by noon tomorrow. You want to risk her in that, or do you want to gamble we’ll be one of the groups that travels over this other route without trouble?”
“Don’t have much choice, do I? We’ll go the longer but safer way.”
For nine long days, Hunter wondered if he had chosen the right way. Leanne looked pale and drawn but made no complaint. They moved steadily, forever on the watch for Apaches or outlaws. The only good thing he could say about the arduous trip was that it worked to shut Watkins’s mouth. As exhausted as the rest of them, his insults and threats had finally ended.
On the morning of the tenth day, when dawn’s light barely touched the dark sky, Hunter crouched by Leanne where she sat by the low fire finishing a cup of coffee. She did not look as if she had the strength left to mount, let alone ride another full day through the scrub and the dust. He was not sure what he could say to give her that needed strength.
“How are you faring, little one?”
It was the honest concern in his voice that kept her from flinging some sharp answer at him. For a moment she continued to sip at the strong coffee, feeling the warmth of it begin to soothe her troubled stomach. She was so exhausted. It was undoubtedly that which had caused her to feel so nauseated for days. She almost wished she could be sick, but on the trail from dawn to dusk, always watchful for Indians, outlaws, or Watkins’s hired guns, it was hard to give in to that. So she fought it and suffered in silence.
“We’ll get there today, right?” she finally said.
“Yeh, darlin’, by nightfall if not sooner. Texas and home is just over the horizon. Anything you need?”
“A bed and a hot bath.”
He smiled and kissed her cheek. “As soon as we reach Little Creek.”
“That a promise?”
“It’s a promise.” He winked. “Won’t be hard to keep either, as I’ll be looking for the same things.”
She managed a weak smile. “I would prefer to be clean and well rested before I meet your family, but I’ll understand if you want to go there first.”
“They can wait a day or two. The marshal will want us close at hand for a while.”
“Of course.” She took a deep breath and finally gave voice to a fear she had been unable to fully conquer. “Are you sure the marshal won’t want to put me in jail, too? Or Charlie and Jed? I’ve been in jail once. Short as my stay was, it was long enough. I’d really hate to see Charlie and Jed arrested either, especially after the help they’ve given us.”
“I feel the same. Don’t worry about it. You won’t go to jail. Your name won’t be cleared immediately, but I know Tuckman will leave all three of you in my custody if nothing else. Sebastian won’t let it happen either, and he’s got the last word. They don’t stick so close to the letter of the law out here.”
“That’s a relief. It did worry me a little.”
“Put your worries aside, darlin’. We’re almost home free.”
That “almost” was what troubled her, but she kept her concern to herself. Hunter and the others had more than enough to worry about without having to take time to soothe her. They certainly did not need to listen to a doomsayer. She would keep her mouth shut and her fears hidden and let herself be pleasantly proven wrong when they rode into Little Creek without trouble.
It was her lingering doubt that kept her from being surprised when, five miles from their destination, a shot rang out. The next few moments were bedlam as they scrambled for shelter, ending up behind a barely adequate wall of scattered rocks, saddles, and packs. Even as they settled down to fight back, Charlie, who had been sent ahead to scout out the approaches to town, came galloping toward them crouched low in the saddle to make a smaller target for the hail of bullets fired in his direction by the men hot on his heels. She watched in admiration as his horse sailed over their haphazard wall, and Charlie flung himself from the saddle and rolled into their midst.
“That was an astounding bit of derring-do, Charles,” she said as he eased up to the barrier on the left side of her.
“Painful though.”
“Are you wounded?” Although he was dusty and battered, she could see no sign of any serious wound.
“Nope. They missed.” He winced as he shifted position.
“Think you have a broken bone?”
“Nope, but I think I’ve dented near every one I have.” He grinned when she giggled softly.
The men who had sprung the trap and those who had been chasing Charlie found what cover they could, neatly encircling them. It looked to be a long, perhaps deadly, siege. Leanne saw no way out of it, not even in giving back Watkins. Freed, he would certainly do his utmost to see them all dead.
“I told you you’d never live to see me hang, Hunter,” Watkins jeered.
“I wouldn’t look so happy if I were you. Those bullets your men are so free with could hit you as easily as us.”
“Just so long as I see you and your little whore die first.”
Sebastian stopped Hunter when he whirled to aim his gun at the goading Watkins. “Don’t do it, Hunter. Don’t let him push you into becoming a killer when we’re so close.”
Although he eased his stance, Hunter snapped, “Close? We might as well be a hundred miles away. How in hell are we going to get through this ring of killers?” He regretted his hasty words when he saw how pale Leanne had
“Not very easily. Think there’s anyone left between town and this scum, Charlie?”
“No, they all came hightailing it after me.”
“Then they were set there to be sure no one reached town before they could trap us all here.”
“Seems that they’ve done that real well.” Hunter decided there was no sense in hiding the full danger from Leanne. She was smart enough to see it for herself.
“Charlie got in. Someone could get out,” Sebastian muttered, trying to locate each of their foes with narrowed eyes.
“And someone could find themselves shot full of holes.”
“Hunter’s right. I was just damn lucky.”
“Is there any benefit to risking it?” Leanne asked.
“There certainly is, Miss Summers. I don’t mean to alarm you . . .”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m quite thoroughly alarmed already.”
“If we just set here, we’re dead. It’s as simple as that. We don’t have the ammunition to last longer than they can. They’ve also got the ability to go for more. In town is Marshal Tuckman and whatever men he can get. If I can get to him, I can bring him back here and catch at least half of this swine in a crossfire.”
“But Hunter’s right. There seems little chance of your surviving a run through a rain of bullets. Isn’t there a chance someone could become aware of what’s happening here and come to help?”
“Not much of one. Any poor fool who wanders into this is a dead man.”
“And if you go out there, you’re a dead man.”
“Maybe. I can wait to die here, or I can chance dying out there—maybe get through and maybe get help.”
“There really isn’t much choice, is there?”
“Don’t see that there is. Marshal Tuckman’s got no idea of when we’re coming in.” When Leanne fell silent Sebastian pressed, “Nothing else? I was sort of hoping you’d come up with something that sounded good.”
“I’m afraid I’ve run out of possibilities.”
She winced when Jed muttered, “Got one of the bastards.”
“Let me go, Sebastian,” Hunter said. “I’m the reason we’re in this mess. I ought to be the one to get us out of it.”
“No, Hunter. You’ll stay put. Can’t say I’ll do any better than you but I’m trained in all this. You’re not. Anyway, it’s Watkins who’s put us in this spot, not you. I was sent out after him months before you arrived. Solving your troubles was just a little side business.”
“I just don’t see how you can do it.”
“If I keep low and move fast, it’ll make me hard to hit.”
Leanne watched with a sense of hopelessness as Jed crept about to bring Sebastian’s horse to him. Using the meager cover of the boulders that formed the sturdiest part of their makeshift fortress, Sebastian mounted. She ducked down with the rest of them as, after creeping back a short distance, Sebastian dug in his spurs to prod his nervous mount into a gallop and, a moment later, sailed over them and the low barrier they hid behind.
The moment Sebastian’s mount touched the ground outside their precarious fortress, Leanne was deafened by a storm of gunfire. She held her hands over her ears as Jed, Charlie, and Hunter tried to provide some cover for Sebastian, even as Watkins’s men did their best to hit the man speeding through their trap. Tensely, she waited for someone to tell her that Sebastian had fallen or that his mount had. When no word came and the surge of shooting ebbed, she dared a look. In the distance, outside the deadly circle of Watkins’s men, she saw the dust of several riders.
“He made it?” She spoke softly, eager for yet fearing the answer to her question.
“Looks like he did.” Hunter decided she did not need to share his conviction that Sebastian was riding with several bullets in him. “Unfortunately, a couple of Watkins’s men are hard on his heels. We couldn’t stop all of them.”
“They won’t chase him all the way to the marshal and town.”
“Probably not. It’ll be a damn long five miles, though.”
“I kept thinking they’d shoot his horse.”
They may yet
, Hunter thought, but kept it to himself.
Time edged by, punctuated by savage attacks and swift retreats by Watkins’s men interspersed with quiet moments when only a few potshots were exchanged. As sunset reddened the sky, she almost wished for some swift ending to the whole matter—or any change at all in the growing monotony of the siege, deadly as it might yet become.
Inching up so that she could take yet another look toward town, she was suddenly sent tumbling backwards by the impact of a bullet. It tore through her left shoulder, but for a moment she felt no real pain, simply astonishment. It seemed grossly unfair to her that she, the only one besides Watkins who was not shooting at anyone, should be the first of their number to be wounded.
“Leanne!” Hunter scrambled to her side.
“I don’t think I’m too badly hurt.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Wriggle over here where there’s a little more cover.”
By the time she was settled in the somewhat restrictive shelter of the taller rocks, her shock had faded and pain was sweeping over her. She grit her teeth against a scream as a strangely wan-looking Hunter ripped open her shirt, bathed her wound, and bandaged it. She wondered how anyone could live through the pain of a more serious wound. She knew hers was not a bad one, yet the pain was almost past bearing.
“It’ll need stitching, darlin’, but it’s not a serious wound. What the hell were you doing?” Sprawling at her side Hunter took out a flask and, after offering her some whiskey, had a hearty drink to ease the fear that had twisted his insides when he saw her shot.
“Trying to see if Tom—I mean Sebastian—was returning.” She took another sip of whiskey, hoping it would dull the hurt, then returned the flask to him. “Think he made it?”
“Jed and I were just wondering that ourselves.”
“Reach any concensus?” After a third, larger drink of whiskey, she began to feel less hurt, less frightened, by her wound.