Whirlwind Wedding (26 page)

“Are the McDougals going to start kidnapping our people now?” Davis Lee asked, whipping out his revolver, checking the cylinder for bullets.

“No,” Jericho said coldly. “Just Catherine.”

“Why?” Davis Lee stepped down to gather his horse's reins before swinging into the saddle. “How the hell did he know where she lived?”

“That's how.” He jabbed a finger toward Andrew. Cinco sidestepped nervously, picking up on Jericho's fury. “This is going to be the last thing Angus McDougal ever does.”

Riley was mounted and Jake Ross had one foot in the stirrup. Jericho's eyes narrowed on Andrew. The kid was chalk-white and terror dilated the pupils of his blue eyes. Jericho tried hard not to resent the boy for bringing those bastards to his sister's door. “Which way did they go?”

“South.” Andrew still breathed hard as he nudged Moe up next to Cinco.

Davis Lee waved him back. “You'd best stay here, Andrew—”

“No, I want to go!”

“He's coming,” Jericho said curtly. “In case he's forgotten what these outlaws are capable of doing.”

Riley and Jake said nothing. Davis Lee frowned. “Do you think that's a good idea?”

Jericho ignored his cousin, leveling his gaze on the boy. “Maybe you'll understand now why your sister doesn't want you involved with the McDougals.”

“I already understand.” Andrew rubbed his eyes with his knuckles.

“Involved with the outlaws?” Davis Lee's gaze sliced from Jericho to the boy. “What are you talking about?”

Riley quickly explained to Davis Lee and Jake about Andrew and the gang.

“I never meant for Catherine to get hurt,” Andrew said thickly. He was shaking so hard Jericho could hear his teeth click together, but the boy held his gaze.

“We need to ride.
Now.
” Jericho gave Cinco a sharp kick in the flank and the horse bolted into motion. The only reason he didn't throttle Andrew was because he knew the kid blamed himself. It was in his favor that he had acted quickly and smartly when he saw McDougal snatch his sister.

Catherine. Jericho's chest ached. Thundering out of town with the others, he shut down as much emotion as he could. He narrowed his focus to riding and spotting a lone rider in the distance. If he let himself consider what the McDougals might do to Catherine, might already be doing to her, he wouldn't be rational, and that would endanger her.

Cold methodical thinking would help her, but nothing
would help Angus McDougal. Whatever happened to the other McDougals, Angus was a dead man.

 

After a couple of miles, Angus angled west toward the setting sun. The glare magnified the throb behind Catherine's eyes. The repeated slam of the saddle horn into her hip joined the ache in her swollen jaw. Had Jericho discovered her missing yet? Had anyone?

She and Angus rode across the prairie. A lone mesquite tree, then, minutes later, a stand of pecan trees, marked the passage of miles. Catherine held on, jarred and bruised as she tried to think of a way to escape.

Maybe when they stopped—

Suddenly Angus cursed, kicking the horse into a flat-out run. Catherine pitched forward and gripped the pommel for balance. What had happened? What had Angus seen? She tried to peek over his shoulder but her awkward position prevented it.

She noticed that he kept the horse parallel to a dry creek bed, or maybe an old river channel. They passed through a small copse of oak trees and scrub. Up ahead, under a scarred oak, she spied two men on horseback. Her hope for escape flickered as their faces came into view. Bruce and Donald.

Before she could wonder about Ian, Angus yelled to his brothers, “Riders behind me! Think I saw three!”

Catherine's heart skipped a beat.
Oh, please, let it be Jericho or someone who can help!

Angus jerked his horse to an abrupt stop, causing Catherine's teeth to snap shut.

“What the hell did you bring her for?” Donald snarled. “Did you get the medicine?”

“Shut up and get her down.” Angus motioned both men over with a sharp gesture.

He practically pushed her onto Bruce, and Catherine shrank away from the mean hands grasping for her. Bruce pulled her roughly out of the saddle, heedless of the ropes scraping her flesh.

Angus dismounted, slapping his horse on the rump. “Take cover!”

Catherine didn't see anyplace for them to hide, but her elation over that disappeared when Angus grabbed her by the arm and dragged her down into the creek bed. Wind and weather had eroded a hollow in the dirt bank, providing an awning of sorts—a hiding place where they wouldn't be seen.

Bruce and Donald hurried to join Angus. The oldest McDougal planted himself on her left and Bruce on her right. “You're in the line of fire, girl, so I'd think twice before trying anything.”

Catherine didn't acknowledge him, her mind racing to come up with possibilities for escape.

He tore his attention from her. “Donald, you're on my left. Where's Ian?”

“Waiting in the wagon around the bend,” his brother said. “This gully snakes around to the north, so no one can see him from here. He's not doing too good.”

In the distance, Catherine heard the pounding of hooves. Beside her, Angus stiffened and lifted up for a peek. The earth vibrated slightly. Someone was coming! Surely they would help her.

When the other two McDougals raised up to see for themselves, Catherine eased backward on her knees. With their attention diverted, this might be her only chance. She spun and scrambled to her feet.

Before she could find her footing, a hand hooked into the shoulder of her dress where her sleeve used to be. “Get back here!”

Angus yanked and she fell hard on her bottom. A ripping sounded as the seam under her arm gave way. Hand fisted in the straining fabric, Angus hauled her up to him and pushed her into the earth wall. “Do that again and I'll do worse than kill you.”

The thought of his hands and mouth on her curdled her stomach.

Bruce held up his hand, saying in a hushed voice, “Listen.”

The quiet was abrupt. Shattering. No hoofbeats. No rustle of movement through the grass. Straining, Catherine heard only the occasional whisper of wind stirring the grass, the coarse squawk of nearby ravens in the trees. Her breath hitched painfully in her lungs.

Beside her, Bruce tensed, and she looked past his shoulder to see a black horse step tentatively into a far curve of the bed. She didn't recognize the horse, but the rider looked familiar. Riley?

She couldn't be sure, but her breath caught at the hope that it was him. If so, Jericho was surely with him.

Bruce leveled a steady hand and fired. Horrified, Catherine cried out behind the gag. The black horse leaped back out of sight as the man squeezed off several shots. A dull thud sounded over her head and dirt sprinkled down on her. A bullet. Too close.

“I know I saw at least three of 'em back there,” Angus repeated in a low voice.

“You think it's the Ranger?” Donald asked from the other side.

“I'd bet money on it.”

Catherine tried to think how she could help, let them know she was here and alive. When she saw a chance, she would rip this gag out of her mouth and scream with everything she had.

The air rippled with expectation, and adrenaline stung her
nerves as she huddled into the dirt wall. What was happening? What were they doing? Was Jericho out there?

Suddenly gunfire erupted, loud and close. Bruce swore and fired back blindly over the lip of earth that shaded them. Angus and Donald did the same. The noise swelled in her ears. She burrowed into the dirt, making herself as small as possible. Bullets whizzed past, plowed the ground behind her and the opposite bank.

The two sides exchanged fire for a while, although it was probably only a minute. Sweat pooled between her breasts and terror pulled ragged breaths out of her.

Angus eased up to get a look, shot his gun, then ducked as Donald did the same. Bruce followed his brothers, the three of them repeating the pattern a couple of times. Then Bruce raised up, pulled the trigger, and suddenly fell back against Catherine.

She shrank away, pushing at him with her bound hands. His head bumped her leg and he stared sightlessly up at her. At first she didn't comprehend that blood was trickling from a hole between his eyes. More stained the ground beneath his head, spread onto her skirt. She screamed behind the gag, then mentally crossed herself, terrified that the very men who had come to rescue her might be the ones to kill her.

A
ll sense of time fled. What happened next could've taken seconds or minutes or hours. Hammered by the loud crackle of gunfire, the scent of burned powder in the air, Catherine was too overloaded to feel anything. None of this seemed real.

When Angus saw Bruce was dead, he roared in outrage. “Donald, start backing up. Stay under this shelf of dirt until we reach the creek bend, then we can run for the wagon.”

Catherine would not go easily.

Angus jammed his gun into her ribs. “I ain't so hot for you that I won't kill you, so you better move with us.”

They began to scoot along the edge of the creek bed. Twigs poked Catherine and tore at her dirty, grass-stained dress.

“You're surrounded, Angus!”

Davis Lee! Catherine stilled, placing his voice somewhere on the opposite bank behind them, even as Donald swung in that direction and fired his gun.

More shots came from over her head and down the creek, where she'd seen Riley earlier. Donald and Angus also fired. Bullets seemed to whiz from every direction, and Catherine huddled against the bank, finally realizing that Davis Lee and
Riley were purposely aiming away from her. Angus finally removed his gun from her ribs so he could join the fray.

Taking the only chance she might have, she pushed Donald as hard as she could. He fell forward, catching himself with one hand. It provided an opening. The next bullet dropped him.

Angus wrapped a beefy arm around her neck and rose, dragging her to her feet. The weight of his arm crushed her windpipe, and spots danced before her eyes.

“You better lay down your weapons,” he yelled. “Or she gets it.”

With her bound hands, she clawed frantically at his arm, an immovable bar across her throat.

Angus backed away toward the bank and she had to take quick steps to keep him from strangling her. She worked to keep her feet under her, desperate to ease his hold, frantic for air. He moved between two trees.

Across the creek bed, Catherine saw Davis Lee start toward them. Movement to the left caught her eye. Riley and Jake Ross. That meant Jericho was here. Overwhelming relief had her stumbling as Angus continued dragging her past the trees.

“You're outgunned, McDougal.” Davis Lee stopped at the edge of the opposite bank, his rifle leveled at the outlaw.

Angus exerted more pressure on her throat and she rose on tiptoe to try and combat it. Where was Jericho?

“If you don't let her go right now,” Jericho growled behind her, “I'll part your skull with this bullet.”

An ominous click sounded. Angus froze, his body rigid against her back. “I'll shoot her.”

“You won't have time to shoot or breathe or blink. If your finger so much as twitches on that trigger, you're a dead man from all sides.”

The outlaw didn't move except to push harder against her
windpipe, cutting off her air completely. She felt herself growing faint. Suddenly Angus pivoted to face Jericho, and she lurched around with him.

“I can at least take you with me,” Angus snarled.

Fear made Catherine wild. She bucked violently against his hold, startling him, and when his arm loosened, she nearly slipped free.

He caught her around the waist, his gun wavering from Jericho. The Ranger lunged. Catherine hung over Angus's arm and he jabbed the gun into the side of her neck. The hammer clicked.

Mind-blanking terror flooded her. A shot sounded and in a suspended moment, she waited for pain. Then Angus fell. Released suddenly, she stumbled, scrambling away and ripping the gag from her mouth to drag in huge lungfuls of air.

Sobbing, she strained at the ropes around her wrists, frantic to loosen the knot. Suddenly Jericho was on his knees in front of her, pulling her to him, whispering her name brokenly. She fell against him, sobbing.

“I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you.” Her cries tore at him. Already unsteady from her close call, it took him a couple of tries to untie her.

Catherine was shaking so hard he thought he could hear her bones rattle.

“There, got it.” He pushed the rope from her wrists and caught her to him when she threw herself against his chest, her arms locking around his neck.

She held tight, tears wetting his shirt. He gathered her to him and buried his face in her neck. Sharp relief ached in his chest. For a long moment Jericho held her, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing words to her until his pulse settled into a semi-regular rhythm.

“Sweetheart, let me look at you.” He tried to pry her arms from around his neck. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes.”

She pressed into him as if she wanted to crawl inside his skin. He ran his hands over her and was relieved when she didn't wince or cry out in pain. Her dainty white dress was streaked with dirt and grass stains. And blood.

His heart skipped a beat. “Where are you hurt?” he asked urgently. “Where are you bleeding?”

“It's not mine,” she said raggedly.

Dragging in his first full breath, Jericho ran gentle hands over her again. One sleeve of her dress had been ripped off, and he checked the bare slender arm around his neck for bruises, marks. He found none. But when he tipped her chin up, she winced.

“Let me see,” he murmured.

She shuddered, lifting her face, and he saw the beginnings of a bruise on her jaw and cheek. Raw fury slashed at him, but he cautioned himself to remain calm.

She turned her face into his neck and his hands went to her waist, discovering the gaping tear under her arm, the soft fabric of her chemise.

Her sobs quieted, and though her hold didn't loosen, some of her tension eased. He feathered kisses against her temple, stroked her back.

The others walked up, all staying a discreet distance away except Andrew.

“Catherine!” Her brother raced to her, dropping to the ground beside Jericho.

She reached for the boy, hugging him tightly.

“I'm so sorry,” Andrew said thickly.

“It's all right. I'm fine.” She held him to her, and when Jericho would've drawn away to allow her to embrace her brother, she caught his hand at her waist, curling her fingers into his.

He stayed, his heart finally slowing its reckless pace. That had been too damn close.

The other men moved forward and she lifted her head to look at them. “Thank you,” she said shakily.

“Glad you're okay, Catherine,” Riley said soberly.

Jake murmured his agreement.

Davis Lee gave her a crooked smile. “You scared ten years off my life.”

She smiled tremulously, wiping away her tears. “I think my hair has turned completely gray.”

“
Mine
has.” Jericho helped her to her feet, careful to keep an arm around her to cover the rip in her dress. Andrew stood, too, holding her hand.

Angus lay motionless behind them. Jericho caught Riley's gaze and, with a side glance, silently requested that they take care of the body when he got Catherine away from here. The other man nodded to show he understood.

As Jericho guided Catherine toward his horse, he heard the men behind him making arrangements to carry the McDougals' bodies back to town.

She slowed and looked up at him, her lashes still spiky from tears, her eyes crystal blue. “Ian. He's in a wagon somewhere around the creek bend, waiting for them.”

“Okay.” She was so pale, so fragile beneath his hands. Jericho stroked her cheek, calling the information over his shoulder to his cousins and Jake.

Jake and Davis Lee took off on foot up the creek bed, and Riley started toward Jericho and the horses.

Jericho gently lifted Catherine onto the saddle, glad to finally see a hint of color in her cheeks.

She touched his right arm. “You used your gun hand.”

“I did it without thinking.”

“I hope you didn't set back your recovery.”

“If I did, it was worth it.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

At a tug on his sleeve, Jericho looked down to find Andrew.
The boy tipped his head, indicating that he wanted to step away from his sister. Jericho lightly squeezed her waist. “Will you be okay for a minute?”

“Yes.” Her gaze went questioningly to Andrew, but her brother didn't look at her.

As Riley walked past, leading his horse, as well as Davis Lee's and Jake's, Jericho joined Andrew.

“I'm in trouble, aren't I?” the boy asked quietly, so Catherine couldn't hear. “For running with the McDougals?”

Jericho appreciated the kid's effort to shield Catherine, even though she already knew. “I need to ask you some questions.”

“About what all I did?”

“Yes, and the ambush.”

Guilt flashed across his young face. “All right. What do you want me to do?”

“We'll get your sister home, then you can go with me to the sheriff's office.”

“Okay.” Fear shimmered in his eyes, but Andrew squared his shoulders. He chewed at his lip, then said, “Please don't be mad at me anymore.”

Jericho's heart softened at the agony in the boy's blue eyes, and he laid a hand on Andrew's shoulder. “I'm not mad.”

“But in town you said—”

“I was angry,” Jericho interrupted. “But I'm not now.”

“Good.” The lad's eyes were painfully bright and he turned away, choking out, “I'll get Moe.”

Jericho gave him a boost onto the mare before returning to Catherine. “Still okay?” he asked quietly, curving a hand over her knee.

She nodded, her gaze shifting to her brother. Regret and disappointment chased across her features, and Jericho didn't know if it was for him or Andrew.

He swung into the saddle behind her, wishing he could
forget the whole thing with her brother. But too much had happened.

As soon as his chest met her shoulder, she melted into him. His body hid the rip down the side of her dress, and she snuggled against him, one arm around his waist. He rested his head on hers, wrapping his right arm around her.

Davis Lee rode up, his even tone at odds with the anger in his eyes. “We'll take care of the McDougals, but you should know Ian is gone. Unhitched the horse from the buckboard and took off.”

As sick as the youngest McDougal was, Jericho didn't think he'd get far. “We'll deal with him later.”

His cousin nodded, his gaze settling softly on Catherine. “I'm sure glad you're all right.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, still looking slightly disoriented.

He touched the brim of his hat. “We'll see you in town.”

Jericho nodded, urging Cinco into an easy walk. Andrew fell in beside them. Catherine lay against Jericho quietly, and he closed his eyes, inhaling her sweet soothing scent and swallowing against a burn in his throat.

They rode silently toward Whirlwind, the setting sun flowing across the prairie like glittering liquid gold.

She shifted slightly, her voice quiet and sad. “You're taking him in, aren't you?”

Andrew glanced over as if he'd heard, and Jericho's heart clenched. “Yes.”

“Just for questions?”

“Yes.” Frustration and reluctance stirred. He didn't want to doubt his duty or the justice he owed Hays, but he couldn't ignore the fact that Catherine stood to lose her only living relative.

He wished they could ride on forever, but too soon they reached her house. With a stiff silence between them, he helped her down and steadied her on her feet.

She reached for him. “I—”

“Shh, Catherine. Just let me end this, all right?”

Indecision mixed with the sadness in her eyes. She nodded and went to her brother.

Feeling ancient and exhausted, Jericho curled his hand over the saddle horn and remounted.

“I'll change my dress,” she said quietly to Andrew. “Then I'll come to the jail. I don't want you to be alone.”

“I'll be okay.” Andrew sat up straighter on his horse.

“I know, but I'll be there anyway.” She squeezed his hand, then stood back as he nudged Moe into motion.

Jericho met her troubled gaze, an unfamiliar heaviness pressing down on him. He wanted this over and done. He couldn't bear to see more pain in her eyes. It was like drawing a knife through an open wound.

Her eyes begged for mercy, not justice. He hoped he could give it.