King's Ransom (16 page)

"Let her
ride," he finally agreed. "But if she's not back by noon, we're going
after her."

"You got it,
boss," Turner agreed, and wisely went back to work.

The sun was
bright, almost white in the faded blue sky. Not one puny cloud dared to show
face in the building heat. The dry, brown grass broke and scattered like dust
as King's big stallion ran at an easy gallop. His nostrils flared, and his ears
twitched at the sounds coming from his rider. He didn't know what laughter was,
but he responded to Jesse's joy and pleasure. He tossed his head and nickered
at a herd of Black Angus cattle trying to graze on the brittle pasture land.

Jesse felt the
stallion's power beneath her, but knew no fear. He was nothing she couldn't
handle. She trusted Tariq completely. King had trained him well.

"We're
almost there, boy," Jesse said to the horse, and watched his ears twitch
at the sound of her voice.

She knew when the
horse smelled the water. His stride lengthened and he strained at the
resistance of Jesse's grip on the reins. She didn't dare let Tariq have his
head. Her hands weren't strong enough to hold on, or even stop him, if he was
allowed to run at full gallop.

Finally they
topped the gently rolling hill above the pond and stopped. Jesse let Tariq run
the short distance to the water's edge where the bits of tender green grass
still grew in sparse abandon. She dismounted and let the reins trail the ground
without tying Tariq, knowing King trained his horses to stand in this manner.
The big horse blew softly through his velvety nostrils, tossed his head, and
then began to graze slowly along the edge of the pond and down the gentle slope
of the dam.

Jesse didn't
hesitate any longer. Looking around carefully just to assure herself that she
was truly alone, she kicked off her boots and began to peel away her sweaty
clothes, layer by layer.

The water was
cooler than expected. She grimaced as a wave lapped at the calves of her legs,
then slipped up past her thighs as she waded deeper. Finally she leaned forward
and slipped silently into the inviting depths >

It was heaven.
Jesse knew from past experience that absolutely nothing was as exhilarating as
a skinny dip on a hot, summer day. She swam. She floated. She waded at waist
deep level until the skin on her back began to draw and tingle. Jesse knew
she'd probably stayed too long and would have a good sunburn, but it had been worth
it.

She reluctantly
waded from the water and dabbed at the quickly drying moisture on her bare body
with the tail of her shirt. Once out of the water, Jesse felt compelled to hurry.
She'd just pulled on her last boot and was trying in vain to run a comb through
the wet tangles in her hair when she heard a loud commotion begin over the
next hill.

She whistled for
the horse, and breathed a sigh of relief as he quickly answered her call. He
came at a trot, also disturbed by the noise coming from over the hill. He
pranced sideways as Jesse tried to mount. She spoke sharply and yanked on the
reins, bringing Tariq back into position, then swiftly mounted. The closer she
rode toward the sounds, the more certain she knew what she would see when
topping the hill.

Sure enough,
something was after King's two-year-olds, and Jesse quickly spotted the trouble
as the herd separated, running wildly away from a pack of dogs chasing at their
heels. Jesse watched in frustration, unsure of what to do first, when one horse
went to his knees. She gasped and started forward when the horse recovered as
quickly as he'd fallen and continued his flight to safety.

She breathed a
sigh of relief and decided to turn Tariq toward the ranch to go for help when a
series of events took the decision out of her hands.

One of the young
horses was cut off from the others with knife-sharp precision, the same way a
pack of wolves would cut off their prey from a herd before closing in for the
kill. The horse ran full tilt through some scrub brush, and plunged headlong in
wild flight into a small pond used for watering the stock. Jesse saw the
floating plastic milk jugs spaced out across one end of the pond just before the
horse plunged headfirst among them. She knew instantly that someone's trespassing
onto King's property was going to cause great harm.

"Oh,
no!" she whispered, and leaned over Tariq's massive neck, clutching at his
long, wiry mane. She saw the horse below begin to thrash wildly about in the
water, unable to run any farther, unable to move. He'd been caught in a
trot-line—a long fishing line that Turner called a lazy man's way to fish.

The line usually
ran the length of a pond, or across the neck, and had large, barbed hooks set
at spaced intervals and at certain depths, angling for the big ones that rested
along the pond bottoms when weather was hot and dry. The jugs were used as
floats and markers, so that the fisherman could pole a boat along and check each
jug to see if the hook dangling below had catch waiting to be harvested.

Jesse knew that
if she went back to the ranch, it would be too late to help the horse. The dogs
would have killed it before any help could possibly arrive.

Without thought
for her own danger, she urged Tariq down the hill. Her screams and shouts and
the stallion's wild race toward them halted the dogs. They scattered, tails
between their legs.

"Now
what?" she asked herself, as she quickly dismounted and looked about,
hoping the dogs had headed for easier game. "Okay," she said, talking
aloud in an effort to calm the trapped and frightened horse. "It's just
you and me, boy."

She took the
rifle from the scabbard behind the saddle, wrapped the reins firmly around the
saddle horn, knowing Tariq would run as long as they stayed in place, and
slapped him sharply on the rump. She watched the big horse disappear over the
hill, racing back toward the ranch, and hoped she'd done the right thing. She
knew the quickest way to get help was to send Tariq home alone. She also knew
it would probably scare King to death, but she felt she had no choice.

She checked the
rifle, making certain that it was loaded, pumped a shell into the chamber and
then took it off safety. She'd be ready if the dogs came back. She just hoped
to God they didn't. She was a terrible shot.

"Okay,
pretty boy," Jesse said in a low, calm voice and stepped slowly into the
water. The water came over the tops of her boots, slowly seeping down inside as
she waded toward the trapped horse. But she soon had to stop as her progress
agitated the horse further. She had no choice but to stand knee-deep in the
muddy water, waiting between the frightened animal and whatever came into her
gun sights. Help had to come soon.

"Sweet
Jesus!" Turner said under his breath, as he saw Tariq come racing down the
hill toward the ranch.

"King!"
he shouted at the top of his voice, and ran to open the corral gate.

King had started
to the house when he heard his foreman's frantic call. What he saw sent him
back to the barns with a prayer in his heart and on his lips.

"She's been
at the pond for sure," Turner said, pulling at a bit of green grass
caught in Tariq's bridle.

King nodded, yelled
for two of the men to follow in the ranch truck, and headed for his horse. He
grabbed the reins from Turner's hands and swung into the saddle. His feet
never touched the stirrups as his long legs scissored the air. Dust boiled and
grass flew from beneath the stallion's hooves as King turned him toward the
pond and gave him his head.

He squinted his
eyes against the blinding glare of the sun and dust flying through the air in
the hot summer wind. Tariq's great speed and endurance proved itself worthy. He
made it back to the pond in record time.

King pulled back
sharply on the reins and felt the big horse sawing the bit back and forth in
his mouth as he fought King for domination. King persisted, and the big
stallion finally came to a halt under a withering blackjack tree beneath the
pond dam.

He searched the
entire area frantically, unable to see any sign of Jesse. His heartbeat was as
erratic as Tariq's behavior, and his breath came in sharp, choking gasps. He
wanted to scream Jesse's name aloud, but couldn't find the air in his lungs to
do so. Just as he caught his breath enough to call out, a gunshot echoed
through the meadow. Tariq jumped nervously beneath him. Only the powerful grip
of King's legs kept the horse from bucking him off. King spun the horse around
in the general direction of the shot and kicked Tariq in the flanks. The great
horse needed no further urging as he rapidly climbed the hill's steep incline.

"Somebody
better hurry," Jesse muttered aloud, and tried to mask her panic as the
dog pack reappeared on the crest of a hill above the small pond.

The dogs saw her
and stopped, barked several times, but didn't move from their position.

Jesse knew it
would only be a matter of time before they got up the nerve to try another run.
Desperation and hunger made vicious animals out of man's best friends. These
weren't naturally wild animals. They had once been someone's family pets. But
they'd been dumped; abandoned by those they had trusted. Now they only had
themselves to depend on. Unfortunately for Jesse, these kinds of animals had
less fear of humans than a wolf or coyote would have, and Jesse knew she might
not be able to stop their charge.

The young horse
snorted wildly, also sensing the dogs reappearance, and thrashed weakly, still
frantically trying to free himself from the heavy nylon line and sharp hooks.
But his movement only drove the hooks deeper and wrapped the line tighter.
Finally, he stopped, trembling with shock and pain. Jesse's low, easy crooning
broke through his panic, and he turned pain-filled brown eyes her way.

"Whoa,
boy," Jesse whispered softly, and held out her hand, letting the horse
smell her, touch her outstretched fingers with the soft pelt of his nose. She
just wanted to let him know she was still here. "It's gonna be okay,
pretty fellow," she said softly, knowing the sound of her voice was
somewhat calming to the animal. "King will come and he'll take good care
of you . . . yes, he will." She couldn't stop the tears that to her eyes
as she continued. "He took care of me. He'll take good care of you,
too."

Jesse winced as
the sun beamed down on her already burning skin. She dipped her hand into the
water, cupped it, and carried a handful to her hot, sweaty face, sighing with
short-lived relief as she splashed the overheated areas with the muddy water.
It dried almost instantly in the intense noon-day sun.

She shifted the
gun to a different position. Her hands were cramped and aching, unused to
gripping anything as tightly as she was holding the rifle. But she didn't flinch.
She kept her gaze on the dog pack lining the hilltop.

Nearly twenty
minutes passed with no movement from the dogs, and Jesse looked frantically
down at her watch, shaking it to make certain it still worked. The watch was
running all right, and so were the dogs as they came down the crest of the
hill.

Jesse's heart
stopped. Then she took a breath, glad the other horses were completely over on
the other side of the meadow. She took aim. She knew if the horses had been
anywhere close, she'd just as likely hit one of them as a dog. Suddenly she
wished she'd paid more attention to Andrew McCandless's instructions, but it
was too late now. The dogs were closer, running with an ominous silence, intent
on one goal. Food! Woe be to anything, or anyone, who got in their way.

Jesse could hear
the horse behind her begin to thrash around in the water. He, too, sensed
impending doom, but she couldn't worry about that now.

She took a deep
breath, shaky aim, and fired at the big shepherd dog in front of the pack, then
pumped another shell into the chamber.

*  *  *
 *

King took one
swift look at the scene before him, reached behind his saddle for the rifle
that was usually within hand's reach and then groaned. Jesse had it! With
little urging, Tariq retraced his steps, and flew into the confusion below with
wild abandon.

Jesse heard the
hammer of horse hooves coming down the hill behind her, and prayed it was help
arriving, because she'd missed her shot. She watched in fright as the dogs
regrouped for another run. She heard King call her name, and turned with relief
as he dismounted on the run and jumped into the water with both feet. His only
goal was to reach Jesse before the dogs did.

King snatched the
rifle from her hands, shooting three times in quick succession. A sharp yelp of
pain sent the dogs running back up the hill, and King managed to hit two more
and wound another before they disappeared.