Petticoat Ranch (38 page)

Clay said, “Adam’s not after a reputation, he’s after revenge. He’s had it in him to even the score with this gang for weeks.”

“I know his story, and I’ve seen his scars,” the ranger said. “I talked to him when you first got here. He said he was content to wait.”

“I had a talk with him myself. I didn’t like what I was seeing in his eyes.” Clay lay, watching Adam slink like a shadow between slight depressions and whisper-thin sagebrush. Adam wore a white shirt, stained brown from being soaked with sweat, as he crawled on the ground. His body was nearly invisible against the coarse dirt. “But he convinced me he had himself under control.”

The two of them watched, expecting a gunshot to ring out any second and leave Adam, with his meager protection, bleeding and dying in the Texas sunset. Adam continued forward as silent as a breeze, as fluid as trickling water. As mad as sin.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Clay blinked and Adam seemed to vanish. Even his black hair was coated now in the dust that came as a partner with the dry Texas heat. Then Adam moved and Clay could see him again.

“Very good,” Tom Jackson replied with grudging respect.

Clay became aware of the dozen other men who had formed an impenetrable wall along the front of the canyon. All of them watching. All of them silently rooting for Adam to get through the canyon opening
alive. All of them fearing the worst.

Adam reached the mouth of Sawyer Canyon and ducked behind the first good cover he’d had.

Clay breathed a sigh of relief and looked across several other men to see Luther shaking his head. Luther looked away from Adam and caught Clay’s eye. The two of them shared a moment of regret. They knew what drove Adam to do this desperate thing. It would be bad for Adam if he managed to kill the lot of them. He’d carry this act of hatred like a burning stone in his soul for the rest of his life.

“He’s in,” Jackson whispered.

Clay looked back at the canyon. Adam had disappeared like a wisp of smoke on the air. They waited. Clay smelled the sweat of a dozen men strung tight as piano wire. He heard someone breathe raggedly, and it reminded him he’d been holding his own breath for a while. The canyon wasn’t a large one. The good place to cut a man down was right at the mouth. After that, a man had a fighting chance. The silence drew out long. Clay suddenly pushed himself to his knees. “He got through. I’m going to see if I can.”

Jackson shoved Clay sideways. Only the
crack
of a gun being triggered stopped Clay from shoving back. He looked down the barrel of Jackson’s Winchester. “I’m not risking another man on such a reckless attack. Don’t even think about it.”

Clay didn’t think the ranger would shoot him, but the heat of the day and the tension of the moment were taking their toll on everyone. He didn’t make any more sudden moves.

“They’re gone!” Adam came running out of the canyon, no longer making the least attempt to hide himself.

“They can’t be gone.” Sheriff Everett jumped to his feet, leaving cover behind in a way that proved he believed Adam, even though he denied it. “This is the only way out.”

Adam stormed toward the group of men then passed straight through the line, heading for the horses.

After one frozen moment, Clay started after him.

“They’re gone,” Adam shouted without looking back or slowing down, “but their horses are still there!”

“They climbed out?” Clay walked faster.

Adam jerked his head in agreement. “It looks like they’ve been gone for hours. I thought there was something too neat about this.”

Adam called back to Sheriff Everett, “They set you all up. They led you to this spot so they could tie up your whole posse while they made a clean getaway.”

“Whitey would have told me if his plans changed. The men were coming in to do more than eat. They needed to check in with Whitey and Buff.” Sophie was the mother again. Not a fidgeting worrier who needed small children to keep her calm. “Girls, something’s happened to those men. Get into the crawl space. Now!”

The girls didn’t hesitate. Beth threw back the rug and pulled up the trap door. Sally dropped into the dark hole in the floor, carrying Laura. Mandy went into the hidey-hole next.

“I’ll make sure the rug lies flat,” Sophie said.

“Ma, I think you oughta come down.” Beth looked at the front door, her face pale but determined.

“I need to keep watch, Beth. You know how we do this.”

Beth hesitated again, and Sophie didn’t hurry her. Sophie respected all her girls’ instincts.

“I don’t know why, Ma, but I’ve got a feeling you need to clear out of the house. If you come with us, we can work our way out to the cave and scout the men who are supposed to be standing watch. We’ll know if there’s any real trouble.”

Sophie was torn.

“We can leave Mandy, Sally, and Laura here underground,” Beth added. “They can run the porch traps. If one of our men comes, they can let ’im know where we are.”

Sophie and her girls had faced a lot of danger in the years they lived alone in this house. And they’d always handled it with Sophie remaining above, guarding the house. She hesitated. It set wrong with her to leave her home undefended, but the look on Beth’s face held her fast.

“Something inside me tells me that this is a good time to be afraid, Ma. Something is telling you that, too. We all need to go, Ma. Now!”

Sophie went. She left the lanterns burning to provide a little light for the underground room and to make the house looked lived-in. She grabbed the rifle and shotgun hanging on nails above the front door then followed Beth into the hole. She closed the trap door over her head. As the door swung shut, closing the five of them into the cramped darkness, she prayed, “Lord, help me, help me, help me.”

Luther was beside Clay and Adam, and all at once he froze in his tracks. Adam stopped so suddenly he almost fell over.

Clay looked at both of them. “I heard her.”

Luther was running. Adam sprinted ahead of him. Clay, adrenaline coursing through his very bones, tore the reins loose from the branch.

“Where are you going in such an all-fired hurry?” Sheriff Everett hollered. “We don’t even know what direction they headed.”

“They’re at McClellen’s,” Luther shouted as he spurred his horse. “How do you know?” Everett said.

The rangers were already swinging up on their horses, responding to the urgent riding of the three men.

“We heard Sophie call for help,” Adam shouted over his shoulder as he kicked his horse into a canter.

Clay’s only thought was to get to Sophie and the girls before it was too late. He was a mile down the trail at a full gallop before he looked back. The whole posse, regardless of the nonsense of Adam’s words, had fallen in line behind him, all bent on one thing: Get to the ranch. Save Clay’s family.

Sophie couldn’t help being a little disgruntled. It looked like she was going to have to save her girls herself.

As usual.

What was the point of men anyway? She looked at her four precious daughters and thought of the child growing inside her. She loved her children fiercely and was glad she had them, so she begrudgingly decided men had their purpose.

“I’m going out the tunnel to the cave entrance,” Beth said. “It’s right above one of the best lookouts on the ranch. If they’ve got someone watching us, he’ll be there.”

“I’m going with you.” Sophie started crawling toward the tunnel. It was low and dark. They would be on their hands and knees the whole way. “If we find trouble, the both of us will need to get in position to spring the traps.”

Sophie left the shotgun leaning against the dirt wall of the cramped little crawl space. The only thing that kept the little cellar from being pitch-black was light coming through tiny slits between the floorboards overhead. The musty dirt smelled like safety. “Mandy, take the braces out of the porch. Sally, keep Laura asleep if you possibly can. Her crying could alert someone that you’re down here. If she wakes up and starts crying, get down the tunnel about halfway. No one can hear her there.”

Mandy was already working on the front porch. Sally sat back and cradled Laura in her arms.

The ranch house was built just a few dozen feet in front of the first rocky crags that grew into bluffs to the west of the McClellen ranch. Sophie had dug a tunnel in the years after Cliff had gone to war, well braced with timbers she’d cut herself, burrowing herself a little escape route. Those hadn’t been particularly dangerous years, although there had been a few incidences of Indian trouble and the inevitable smalltime rustling.

Sophie hadn’t felt safe, and she wasn’t a woman to sit by and hope for the best when there was something she could do. She’d dug her way to the cave, which had a series of caverns she could follow all the way to the top of the bluffs.

Sophie and Beth crawled through the tunnel. Sophie felt the weight of the mountain crushing down on her in the stygian darkness. They emerged in the cave and could see again, even with dusk darkening into night.

They stuck together until they reached the highest point in the underground cave system. Beth looked at Sophie, and Sophie gestured for her to go check for a lookout.

Elizabeth, at eight years, had a gift for the woods that she had honed in the thicket, sneaking up on deer because she loved to study animals. Sophie didn’t like sending her daughter into danger, but Sophie knew her children’s strengths. She knew Beth could do this better than she could.

Beth slipped away silently, and Sophie didn’t have long to wait for her return. Beth held a finger up to her lips and led Sophie back down into the tunnel out of earshot.

“I found him right outside the cave entrance,” she whispered. “He’s not one of our men. He’s got Rio hog-tied, lying on the ground unconscious.”

Sophie’s stomach did a sickening twist. Up until now she’d just been following a small voice in her head that said there was danger, but she’d had no solid proof.

Now she had it. That man could be no one but a member of Mason’s gang. Adam had said there were twenty of them. They’d caught four. Clay had mentioned that several of the gang had run off. The sheriff had seen eight men go into Sawyer Canyon. Eight men.

“If Rio’s tied, he’s alive.” Sophie made sure Beth didn’t hear one ounce of fear. “If we can get him loose and he’s not hurt too bad, he’ll be a help.”

“I wish Pa were here.” Beth looked toward the cave entrance.

How had these men gotten out of that box canyon? And what had happened to the posse who had them cornered? Sophie thought,
Just once, I wish he were here, too.
Then she stiffened her backbone. “If you want to help, you’d best do some praying, Beth.”

“What should I pray, Ma?”

“I haven’t prayed much of anything for years,” Sophie said grimly, “except, ‘Help me.’ ”