Judith E French (28 page)

An hour later, still riding Shiloh, Ash got within range of the fifth gunman. “Stand,” Ash ordered the weary horse as he slid his rifle from its sheath.

“Lord, forgive me,” he whispered. He took careful aim, leading his target, and squeezed off a perfect shot. The crack was still echoing through the valley when the pistolero dropped.

Tamsin clung to the outlaw in an exhausted daze. She’d ridden all night and into the day without a drop of water or a morsel of food. Jack had slapped her hard enough to make her ears ring when she hadn’t dismounted fast enough a few hours back.

When his horse had begun to tire from carrying two, he’d ordered her up behind Billy, a man cut from the same devil mold. Billy never spoke a single word to her, but his flat amber eyes watched her from a compassionless face. Touching the desperado, putting her arms around his waist, made her skin crawl.

Each hour took her closer to nightfall, a time when she knew Jack would call a halt to his ride. And if Ash didn’t come before then, Jack had promised her that he would have her in every way that a man could violate a woman.

And he had promised the others that they could use her in turn.…

So Tamsin had watched and waited as her strength
slipped away, knowing that if she made her move too soon, she would pay the ultimate price.

She had no doubt that Ash would come after her. She knew it in every drop of blood, in her bones, and in the far corners of her soul.

If only he didn’t come too late.

The sound of the rifle shot wrenched Tamsin from her trance. She released her grip on the bandit’s waist, slid off the horse’s rump, and hit the ground running.

Billy cursed and yanked his horse away.

“Catch her!” Jack yelled.

Bullets whined past her head, but she didn’t stop. Without looking back, she dived into a clump of thick brush and clawed her way through the tangle.

Jack shouted and Boone laughed. Horses snorted and spurs jingled as one of them leapt out of the saddle mount and tried to force his way into the bushes after her.

Briars tore at Tamsin’s hair and clothes, but she pressed on, heedless of the pain. A pistol fired again, behind her.

Something stung her arm, and she cried out as the force knocked her down. Shocked, she realized that she’d been hit. Blood soaked her sleeve, but strangely, she felt numbness rather than pain.

She got up and staggered out the far side of the thicket. Shielded by scrub pines from her pursuers, she dashed down a narrow, rocky ravine.

“Get her, you fools!” Jack yelled.

Sparks of color spiraled in front of Tamsin’s eyes. The ground beneath her feet seemed to be shifting, and sounds echoed in her head. She kept running, dodging from one clump of cover to another.

Ash heard the shots and turned Shiloh loose. Leaping into Dancer’s saddle, he whipped the bay stallion into a flat-out run.

Tamsin had made it as far as a gully that cut into the wooded hillside. Ash reined the stud to a trot as he zigzagged through the stunted pines, dodging boulders and leaping rocks and fallen logs.

“Ash!” He could tell from Tamsin’s scream that she was still running, but hopelessness rang in every shrill note.

“Where do you think you’re goin’, bitch?”

The hard thud of a man’s fist hitting human flesh followed.

Tamsin gasped in pain, then began to sob.

A few yards away, another man uttered a scornful guffaw. “Save a little for me, Billy.”

Ash heard cloth rip.

Tamsin’s shriek of fear sliced through him.

The stallion burst through the cover of trees into the glaring sunlight. Ash saw Tamsin on the ground ahead, struggling with a man while another jeered and urged his partner on.

The startled
forajido
slapped leather, but Ash shot him full in the chest before his pistol had cleared the holster.

Tamsin’s assailant let go of her and went for his own Colt. Ash jacked another shell into the rifle chamber, but didn’t fire for fear of hitting Tamsin. Fiercely, she clung to her assailant’s arm, spoiling his aim.

The first shot went wild, almost shattering Ash’s rifle stock and sending chips of wood and metal flying. Ash felt the sting of a dozen hornets, but it took all his skill and concentration to stay in the saddle as the squealing stallion fought the bit and reared.

Ash launched himself out of the saddle. He hit the earth and rolled, coming up on his feet to see Tamsin clinging like a burr to the outlaw’s back.

Dancer plunged past, and his left rear hoof caught Cannon’s man in the knee. He staggered back just as Ash drove his fist into the man’s midsection.

Tamsin fell as Ash’s opponent whipped his pistol up. Powder and heat scorched Ash’s cheek, but he came in hard with a strong right fist.

It caught the pistolero on the chin and dropped him like a poleaxed steer. Spooked by the pain and gunfire, the bay horse bolted away down the draw.

Tamsin sat white-faced and breathless, holding her bleeding upper arm. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t go with them—”

“Come on!” he said, grabbing the fallen bandit’s pistol. “Before the reinforcements get here.”

He slipped an arm around her and helped her up. She leaned against him, struggling to stay on her feet.

The gunman was regaining consciousness. Ash knew that he should kill him. He lifted the weapon, but was stopped by the frightened look in Tamsin’s eyes.

“That’s murder,” she said.

With an oath, Ash lowered his aim, putting a bullet into the fallen killer’s injured knee. “Does that suit you, woman?”

She turned her face away. “I’m all right. I can walk.”

“Like hell.” Gathering her in his arms, he plunged into the trees, ran a hundred yards, then stopped. Sitting her down, he pushed her to the ground and crouched over her, protecting her with his body. “Don’t make a sound,” he whispered.

Two horses trotted up the ravine and stopped. The rock walls echoed with curses.

“Jack! Carlos is dead!” Ash would have bet his daddy’s spurs it was Boone’s voice.

Ash had heard the story that Jack Cannon had tried to hang his brother Boone when the two were boys. Whatever the reason, Boone spoke in a harsh rasp.

A volley of shots peppered the trees.

“Save your ammunition!”

Ash wondered if that was Jack. It had been years since he’d heard the outlaw speak, and he couldn’t be sure. He leaned close to Tamsin’s ear. “There were five of them, weren’t there?”

She nodded, trembling under him like a wounded bird. “Jack, his brother, and Carlos. You shot Carlos.”

“I killed two of them. Who was the fifth man, the one whose horse went lame?”

“I don’t know. I never heard them call him by name.” She shuddered. “The other one—the one who tried to rape me. He’s Billy.”

“You should have let me finish him when we had the chance.”

She drew in a ragged breath. “That would make you as bad as him.”

“It might make me alive.”

Her lower lip quivered. “Jack said he was going to do things to me …” She jammed a hand against her mouth to keep from crying. “I didn’t think you’d come in time.”

“You’re all right. I have you.” Tamsin’s hair was tangled with twigs and leaves, but beneath the dust, she still smelled as sweet as he remembered.

Alone, he would have gone after the remaining three, but with Tamsin to worry about, it seemed wiser to run.

She twisted to look up at him. “I didn’t want to go with them. They threatened to kill me.”

He nodded. “I guessed as much.”

“You did?”

“Shhh, darlin’.” He allowed himself to touch her cheek for just an instant. “I’m going to get you out of here in one piece, but you’ve got to help me.”

“There’s tracks from a single horse,” Boone called.

“Just one animal?”

“That’s all I see, Jack.”

“You asshole! If there’s only one horse, then there’s only one shooter. Find him!”

Black hatred thickened Ash’s throat, and he forced back the killing rage. When it came to besting human vermin like the Cannons, anger was a man’s worst enemy. Ash knew he needed to use his wits. The odds were three to two, and Tamsin was weak from loss of blood. Jack was a crack shot. Given half a chance, he would kill them both.

Ash grabbed Tamsin and ran uphill, not stopping until he was out of breath. Then he drew her down into a hollow behind a rock. “Keep your head low,” he told her. “I’m going to get us a mount.”

She clung to him. “Don’t go,” she said. “Dancer will find me.”

Ash brushed her mouth with his. “You’re hurt, darlin’. You need to lay still and let me worry about Cannon.”

“But Dancer—”

“He’s scared. We can’t wait for him to lead them to us.” He ripped off his scarf and bound it around her arm. “It looks bad, but I think the bullet missed the bone.”

“No. Don’t go. They’ll kill you.”

“Be brave a little longer, darlin’. We can’t get out of here without a horse.”

“Promise me you won’t let them catch me?”

He tilted her chin and looked into her eyes as icy dread seeped through his gut. “Did they abuse you?”

She shook her head. “A slap or two, nothing more.”

“It doesn’t matter. You can tell me the truth.”

“I am telling the truth, you idiot,” she snapped at him. “You stopped them.” Tears filled her eyes. “I’d rather be dead than have those monsters—”

“Alive is better, woman. Always choose life. But it won’t come to that. I swear to you.” He stood up. “Wait here, and don’t make a sound.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’ll be within earshot. You just call out if you need me.”

Pistol ready, Ash moved from tree to tree, scanning the forest for any sign of movement. The shooting had stopped, and he could no longer hear voices below.

He’d turned Shiloh loose after he’d killed the first of Jack’s gang with the rifle. The gelding wouldn’t roam far, but the trick was to get him before Cannon’s boys did.

He needed to get Tamsin safely away to wash her arm before it swelled with infection. And he needed to finish off Jack and his two remaining accomplices. If he didn’t, he knew Cannon would track them down.

Maybe Tamsin was right, he thought. He should have brought along a posse. Maybe, for once, he’d bitten off more than he could chew.

When Ash returned to the spot where he’d left Tamsin, he found Dancer standing beside her nuzzling her shoulder. “I told you he’d come back.”

“If you don’t mind, woman, I’m not in the mood for your reminders.”

“All right.” Her face was bloodless, but she smiled at him. “Have they gone? The outlaws?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He looked at the sky, gauging the hour and how long it would be until dark. He didn’t think they were far from Leon’s cabin. He hoped Cannon would decide to go there rather than chase Tamsin through the woods all night.

“Dancer’s hurt,” Tamsin said. “I need to wash those cuts on his side and rump. I must have pulled out a dozen splinters. I hope they don’t get infected.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be all right.”

She didn’t look all right to him.

“You didn’t find Shiloh.”

He shook his head. “I did locate a spring higher up the ridge. We can camp there tonight.”

“And in the morning?”

“Sweetwater is east of here.”

“You’re taking me back.” She nodded. “Jail looked pretty good to me a few hours ago.”

He didn’t lie to her. He just couldn’t tell her the truth, that he’d have to leave her and go after Cannon. His rifle was almost destroyed; they had two pistols and one horse between them. They couldn’t outride Jack’s gang, and they couldn’t outshoot him. As long as they stayed hidden, they might be safe. But when they started back toward Sweetwater, he knew Jack would come after them.

He put her on the stallion and led Dancer uphill to the spring. They couldn’t risk a fire tonight, and they were without food, but they could survive with water.

It took a half hour to reach the spot. He helped Tamsin down and let her drink her fill before he led the horse to the small run-off pool between the rocks. Tamsin sat stoically while he tore up a clean shirt from his bedroll to cleanse the bullet hole and stanch the bleeding. Next he packed the wound with moss that he scraped off a boulder and bandaged it tightly.

“You might have brought us some dry biscuits or bacon in that pack of yours,” she chided when he was finished with his doctoring. “And you need to take care of Dancer’s injuries.”

“I’ll wash the damn horse’s scratches.”

“They aren’t scratches. They’re puncture wounds. He could get lockjaw.”

“Maybe I should have put a vet in my pack as well.”

“Fried chicken would have been nice. Or apples, ripe red apples.”

“Would have if you’d given me notice you were runnin’ off again.” He grumbled as he cared for Dancer’s cuts.

“You can’t blame that on me. I was kidnapped.”

“So you say.” He grinned at her and spread a blanket on a pile of pine needles, then gestured for her to sit on it. “You’re more trouble than any owlhoot I’ve ever gone after.”

“Sorry.”

Carefully, he reloaded Billy’s pistol and placed it within reach. “This one’s for you. Use it, if you need to.” He settled down beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. Tamsin’s head fell naturally against his chest as though that was where it belonged.

She looked up at him, and he winced at the sight of the dark circles under her eyes. “What happens in the morning?”

“I told you, let me worry about that,” he said. “You sleep. You look like you need it.” He pulled her close, mindful of her injured arm. “I’ve got no intentions of dyin’, Tamsin. Once this is done, we can start living.”

Gray smoke billowed from Leon’s chimney in the early morning light. Ash lay on his belly near the house spring and thought about Tamsin while he waited for Texas Jack to show his face.

She’d be fightin’ mad when she found out that he’d gone off without her again, but he figured she’d forgive him once Jack was permanently out of the way.

It seemed impossible to him that they’d only known each other such a short time. She was part of him now, as close as his right hand, as necessary as his lungs for giving him life.