Pariah (19 page)

The following day passed as if nothing else was going on in the world around them. Clint and Lylah awoke under the same blanket, wrapped in each other's arms, and set about making breakfast and then breaking camp. There was no way for them to get anywhere near Kyle Morrow's camp that day, so all that remained was to ride.

Eclipse was glad for the chance to run for so many miles at a stretch, and Clint enjoyed the chance to feel the wind against his face. Lylah was perfectly content to sit in the saddle behind him, keeping her arms locked tight around his midsection and even squeezing her knees around him. Every so often, her hands would wander down his stomach and below his waist. Clint did his best to keep going, but her little hands were just the right size to stroke him as they rode. Eventually, Clint's erection became too hard to bear, so he found a spot where he could let Eclipse graze while he lifted Lylah's skirt and gave her what she wanted.

Every time they made love, she became bolder. It soon got to the point where Clint thought he would have to deny her advances so they could cover more ground for the day. But she knew just how to get him riled up enough to stop somewhere and indulge her.

Clint didn't even try to place the blame of any delay on her shoulders alone. If he'd wanted to keep riding, he would have been able to do so. What he enjoyed the most was the fact that Lylah was so persistent. When he felt her hands grow restless yet again, he turned and said, “Enough's enough. If we don't ride farther today, we'll just have to go farther tomorrow.”

She continued to reach for him, so Clint said, “We're not on a holiday, you know. We need to find Morrow's camp.”

Lylah understood that name if nothing else. Although her hands remained where they were, she wasn't rubbing him any longer. Her lips pressed against his ear and she whispered, “Why wait?”

Clint wanted to argue with her, but didn't have it in him.

He wanted to keep riding, but knew she had a point. They really hadn't stopped any more than they normally would throughout a day's ride. Even if they kept riding without pause, it would take at least another day before they reached the hills marked upon Chuluun's map. Lylah's directions weren't exact, but she remembered well enough how long she and Maddy had ridden to get to that stage platform. Clint looked around again and couldn't see any terrain matching what Lylah had described to the old Mongolian man.

While Clint was thinking about all of this, Lylah was still doing her best to tempt him, and Eclipse was tearing along a stretch of broken trail that would hopefully trim some time off their ride. That's when Clint remembered that getting to Morrow's camp too quickly wasn't necessarily a good thing. If he didn't allow for a bit of extra time for Eddie and Tumen to catch up, he'd be storming into that den of killers alone. That, quite simply, wouldn't be very smart.

“Good enough reason for me,” Clint said as he brought Eclipse to a stop.

He swung down from his saddle, helped Lylah down, and then led her to the first place she could brace herself as he lifted her skirt and pulled down her breeches. Lylah was surprised by the sudden change of plan, but was more than willing to go along with it.

It wasn't too much longer before they were off and running again. With all the stops here and there, Eclipse was able to gallop at full steam for longer stretches of time. In the end, they wound up covering just about as much ground as Clint had set out to at the beginning of the day.

One other result from all of Clint's and Lylah's distractions was that they were both too tired to do much of anything once they finally made camp. After nightfall, they sat in front of a fire that was too small to attract much attention from any distance, and shared a simple meal.

They undressed and climbed into Clint's bedroll, but didn't do much more than that. Clint enjoyed the feel of her naked body against his, and the way she would occasionally shift in her sleep. Her firm little backside pressed against him in a way that might have been tempting if he hadn't been so damn tired.

Clint wound up getting one of the best night's sleep he'd had in a long time. Considering what lay ahead of him, that was just what he needed.

When Clint awoke the next morning, he felt rested and was raring to go. Being that much closer to Kyle Morrow's camp must have affected Lylah as well, because she was anxious and nervous from the start. Her eyes were already open when Clint woke up, and she didn't say a word throughout the first portion of the day.

That was when Clint had to remind himself that she really didn't say much of anything at any time. They'd just gotten so close that he could feel the nervousness coming off her like heat from a rock that had been dug from the bottom of a brazier. She carried herself as if she wanted to curl up and crawl away somewhere. Judging by how tightly she clung to him, Lylah wanted to take Clint right along with her.

Late that afternoon, the flat desert terrain gave way to rocky slopes and jagged peaks covered in thorny scrub, which more closely matched the land that Lylah had described to Chuluun. Pulling on the reins, Clint looked back at her and asked, “Any of this look familiar?”

She was quiet, so Clint held up the map, pointed to it, and then pointed at the land in front of them. That was good enough to get his question across, so she nodded. More than that, she reached out to point to the town that had been written there as one of the few genuine landmarks Clint could use.

Since he seemed to be headed in the right direction, Clint rode on until he spotted the first signs of civilization.

Actually, calling the town of Tucari “civilization” was being mighty generous. It was a collection of dusty, run-down buildings that had a wild feel to it even though there were no fights in the streets or gunshots to be heard. At least, there were none of those things going on at the moment. Everything from the bawdy voices that drifted out of the town's half dozen saloons to the ragged appearance of the drunks glaring at Clint from the street made Tucari a natural home for outlaws.

Clint only had to spend a few moments in the town to guess that whatever law there might be was not to be trusted. He also felt safe in assuming that he could buy damn near anything from one of the shady characters watching him ride down the street, and that he didn't want to take his hand too far away from his gun.

When Lylah pointed toward a saloon at the next corner, Clint said, “I don't think you want to go into any of these places.”

Whether she understood every word or not, she wasn't happy when Clint steered Eclipse toward another street. She pointed insistently at the corner he was about to leave behind and said, “Go there,” along with several other words in her own language.

“You sure about that?” Clint asked.

Lylah kept pointing, and since one place didn't look much better than another, Clint played along. He turned Eclipse around and rode toward that saloon she'd been so anxious to visit. When he brought the Darley Arabian to a stop in front of the place, he felt some more taps upon his shoulder.

“See? I told you that you wouldn't want to go there.”

But Lylah wasn't pointing at the saloon, and she wasn't trying to get him to leave. Instead, she pointed to the saloon's neighbor, which was the darkened storefront of a barbershop. Although it was obvious the shop was closed for business, Clint could see light and movement coming from the rooms directly above it. Suddenly, Lylah cupped her hand to her mouth and shouted something at the upper floor.

“We need to keep quiet,” Clint insisted. “Quiet! Understand?”

She swatted his shoulder and was about to shout once more, but held back once someone on the second floor peeked out through the window.

The face that looked down at the street from above the barbershop was small, round, and framed by a brightly colored scarf. Clint could barely see more than that before the face disappeared inside again. Moments later, a side door flung open from the top of a narrow staircase that led from the second floor down to the alley between the barbershop and saloon. A stout woman practically exploded from the doorway, climbed halfway down, and began chattering in Lylah's native language.

Lylah hopped down from the saddle and ran for the stairs. Clint followed her, making sure to bring Eclipse into the alley far enough to make it difficult for someone to try to run off with him.

“Who is that?” Clint asked. When he didn't get an answer, he shifted his eyes to the woman and asked, “Ma'am? Who are you?”

After chattering for a bit more, the woman stroked Lylah's cheek and wrapped her up in a big hug. She then looked at Clint and said, “I am called Mother. It's not my name, but good enough for now.”

“I'm Clint Adams. I take it you already know Lylah?”

“Yes, I do,” Mother replied. Her smile was missing a few teeth, but was bright enough to eclipse the colors dyed into the scarf that was wrapped over her head and tied beneath her chin. “Madeline came here sometimes to help girls like this one get away from here. Is Madeline with you?”

“No, ma'am. Madeline's gone.”

“Where did she go?”

“She's dead.”

Clint's bluntness was the best test he could have possibly given the older woman. His words brought a shocked sadness to Mother's face that couldn't have been an act. Tears immediately trickled from her eyes as she held Lylah at arm's length and asked her a question in the language they shared.

Lylah spoke softly and nodded while smoothing back some of the hair that had come loose from the older woman's scarf.

Mother steeled herself with a deep breath and asked, “She was killed?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Was it the kidnappers who are camped outside of town?”

“Afraid so. They caught up to her in Tombstone.”

That caused Mother to bring a hand up to her face and press it against her mouth. After lowering her hand a few inches, she gasped. “Then it is my fault. I should never have let her out of my sight. I tell Madeline she does dangerous work, but she keeps doing it. I should never have helped her.”

Clint stepped forward to place a hand upon Mother's back. Since Lylah wasn't about to move aside, the three of them huddled together to shut out the rest of the filthy little town. “It wasn't your fault. Both you and Madeline were just trying to do the right thing.”

“You are here now to hunt those kidnappers?” Mother asked.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Then you are doing the right thing, too.”

“Do you know if those kidnappers are here in town?” Clint asked.

Mother nodded. “They come to saloons to drink. Some of them were here last night. Not all of them, though.”

“Yeah, I already caught up to a fat man and three of his partners.”

Nodding once again, Mother said, “The fat one left days ago. He is dead now?”

“He won't be coming back. Do you know how many kidnappers there are?”

“I have seen five or six with the man who leads them. His name is Morrow. I saw Morrow last night, but I don't know much more than that. All I do is watch from my window and hope those men don't come to my shop. Now I wish I could do more.”

“How about looking after Lylah for a few days,” Clint said. “Could you do that?”

“Yes.”

Handing over a little more than twenty dollars, he asked, “Is there a stage that comes through here, or maybe a train station nearby?”

“A stage comes through once a week.”

“Then use this money to buy her a ticket. Keep whatever's left. If you need more for—”

“No,” Mother said sharply. “I only take some to buy ticket, but you keep the rest. Madeline was a good girl. This is a good girl,” she added while rubbing Lylah's arm. “I will help because of that, not because of money.”

“You're a good girl, too,” Clint said before kissing Mother on the cheek.

The old woman grinned and patted Clint's face in turn. “Don't do anything foolish. Don't get hurt.”

“Can't promise that, ma'am.” Before Mother tried to talk him into staying any longer, Clint tipped his hat and walked back to Eclipse.

Lylah rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. It wasn't a surprise that they didn't need to say anything else to each other. She looked into Clint's eyes, placed her hands upon his face, and gently kissed him. She knew where he was going and that he wouldn't be coming back. She also wanted him to be safe and to remember her fondly.

It was a lot to pack into a few seconds, but Clint got the message just fine.

“You expecting someone?” Mother asked.

Clint reflexively put Lylah behind him so he could face whoever was coming without her getting between them. But there were no drunks approaching the barbershop. At least, Tumen didn't look drunk. Eddie, on the other hand, looked a little too happy, considering the circumstances.

“I like this place!” the bounty hunter said.

“Well, I hope you got your fill of it,” Clint replied. “Because we're leaving. Did you get any money for the fat man?”

“A bit. Seems he was wanted for a bank robbery. Who knew that lard-ass could run fast enough to get away from anyone? We rode in from the south and I think I saw Morrow's camp. It's a definite possibility anyway.”

Clint climbed into his saddle. “If it's not, we'll turn over every rock until we find where Morrow is hiding. I don't care what it takes. This is his last day as a free man.”

Now that they knew where to look, it wasn't difficult at all to find Kyle Morrow's camp. The map Chuluun had drawn was accurate enough to point Clint, Eddie, and Tumen in the right direction, so they continued that way until they found the spot Eddie had mentioned. From a distance, the camp might have been mistaken for a junk heap.