Authors: Connie Mason
“Same here,” Jim added. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner. I’ll be goin’ home myself soon.”
“To Fort Worth?”
“Yep. I reckon I’ve had my fill of excitement for a spell. Pa is gettin’ on in years and needs my help.” They shook hands. “If there’s ever anythin’ I can do for you, just holler.”
“The same goes for me,” Captain Ford offered.
“Well, there is somethin’,” Colt drawled. “I was hopin’ you’d both act as witnesses at my weddin’.”
Jim grinned. “Just name the time and place.”
“I’d be honored,” Captain Ford said.
“Meet us at seven o’clock this evenin’ at the mission church,” Colt responded happily.
“We’ll be there.”
“Stop at the paymaster and collect your pay,” Captain Ford said. “You’ve earned it. I’m looking forward to meeting your bride. It takes a special woman to tame Colt Colter and I have a feeling you’ve met your match.”
S
am savored every delicious minute of her bath. Afterwards she felt so invigorated a nap no longer seemed as inviting as it had. Dressing quickly in clean pants and shirt, Sam decided to buy a simple frock to surprise Colt when he returned. By now he must be tired of seeing her in nothing but masculine attire.
Counting the meager coins in her pocket, Sam decided she had sufficient funds to buy something attractive. The wedding dress could wait until Colt returned. Debating on whether or not to leave a message with the desk clerk for Colt, Sam decided against it, certain she’d be back long before he was.
Excitement seized Sam as she left the hotel. She paid little attention to her surroundings, never even noticing the man stepping into the lobby behind her. Vern Logan had fully intended to check out of the hotel today, but seeing Sam altered those plans. During the long days in jail Vern had laid all the blame for his troubles on Samantha for refusing his marriage proposal and on that blasted Texas Ranger for ruining everything his father had worked for. It was Samantha’s fault that Vern had been disinherited and left with nothing but a house he didn’t want. All the money and land amassed by his father was to go to a cousin he barely knew. It had shocked Vern to learn that his father had actually carried out his threat and left him penniless.
As for the Ranger, his snooping into things that didn’t concern him had led directly to Vern’s downfall. Damn Lyle Crowder for not finishing the Ranger off when he’d had the chance.
Finding Samantha in San Antonio stoked the fires of revenge burning in Vern’s heart. Rage seized him and he wanted to hurt Samantha and that blasted Ranger in the same way they had hurt him. He was a broken man, Vern ruminated darkly, and someone must be made to pay.
The minute Sam walked out the front door, Vern rushed to the desk and inquired of the clerk, “Is that Miss Samantha Howard I just saw leavin’?”
“The lady’s name is Colter. Mrs. Steven Colter. Just checked in today.”
“Hmmm, I could have sworn she was a friend of mine from Karlsburg. Can you describe her husband to me?”
Obligingly the clerk described Colt perfectly. Vern blanched as comprehension dawned. The Ranger! Now he understood everything. Colt Andrews and Steven Colter were the same man! For some reason the Ranger used an alias. More importantly, he had purchased the Circle H using devious methods. Did Samantha know? Was she a part of the plot to keep the land from becoming part of the Logan empire? That thought inspired Vern with a burning desire for vengeance. No one made a fool of a Logan and lived to tell of it. If Vern had learned only one thing from his father it was that the Logans were a vengeful lot.
Vern Logan knew exactly what he had to do. Abruptly he turned and sped out the door, leaving the clerk with his mouth hanging open. Vern reached the street in time to see Sam ambling unhurriedly along the boardwalk. He followed discreetly until she entered the mercantile two blocks down the street from the hotel. His lips curving in a malevolent smile, Vern slipped into the alley between the mercantile and the feed store to wait and plan his next move.
It took no more than a few minutes for Vern to map a course of evil with Sam and Colt as the victims. Aware that Sam, like most women, would spend some time in the mercantile, Vern hurried off toward the livery stable where he boarded his horse. It was but a brief distance away at the end of the street. A short time later he was tethering his saddled mount behind the mercantile near the rear exit of the alley. Then he proceeded to the opposite end, where he slouched in the shadows, hat pulled low, waiting for Sam to emerge from the store.
Eagerly Sam sifted through the wealth of dresses offered by the mercantile. She was pleasantly surprised at the rather large selection and took her time choosing an attractive dress within her means. She finally settled on a pale violet linen with scooped neckline, puffed sleeves, and fitted bodice. The full skirt fell softly around her slim hips to the tip of her toes. Sam had no use for the hoops fashionable in more civilized places where clothing played an important role. Truth to tell, she loved wearing denim trousers, but realized that pants had no place in the wardrobe of an expectant mother. Already they were becoming too snug in the waist. And Sam wanted to look her best when Colt returned to their hotel room. She also bought a pair of soft slippers to match her dress.
Then she carefully studied the fancier offerings until she found what she considered the perfect wedding gown. It was a long dress fashioned of fine lawn in a pale shade of pink and lavished generously with lace. The color and style suited her well. The store clerk promised to hold the gown until closing, and Sam left the store with her dress and slippers done up in a neat package beneath her arm. Her afternoon had ended exceptionally well and she couldn’t wait to greet Colt in her new finery. He had rarely seen her in a dress, and she smiled when she pictured his surprise.
Concealed in the shadows of the alley, Vern Logan watched Sam emerge from the mercantile and walk in his direction. His eyes glittered unnaturally as she drew abreast. Quickly glancing about, Vern satisfied himself that no one was in the vicinity before acting.
Sam never knew what happened as a long arm snaked out and she was dragged into the alley, one hand clapped against her mouth, the other around her waist. There was no time for struggle or even to call for help as her mouth was suddenly released, for the hand that had previously stifled her cries now clenched into a fist and slammed into her jaw. She dropped her package as she crumpled into Vern’s outstretched arms.
Holding his breath, Vern listened for an outcry of alarm. When none was forthcoming, he scooped up Sam’s limp form and quickly made his way along the narrow alley to the opposite end, emerging behind the mercantile where his horse was waiting. Mounting with some difficulty, Vern settled Sam in front of him, supporting her sagging body against his own. Taking a circuitous route out of town, he headed directly into the rugged country south of the city. Once out of sight, he stopped long enough to reach for his rope, tie Sam’s hands together, and secure them to the pummel.
Struggling upward through layer upon layer of thick, suffocating cotton, Sam groaned, wondering why her arms and legs were numb. Gingerly she attempted to move, but found herself paralyzed. One eye popped open, then another, and the terrible nightmare she found herself in became reality. The last thing Sam remembered was leaving the mercantile in a happy mood. What happened after that, and where was she?
Excruciating pain penetrated the numbness in Sam’s limbs, and she struggled to free herself, abruptly realizing that she had been bound hand and foot and left lying on a hard, uncomfortable bed. Slowly adjusting to the dim light, Sam surveyed her surroundings. From all appearances she was inside a damp, dark hole. A cave? Perhaps, though it was small and shallow with a hard, rocky surface, attested to by the sharp stones digging painfully into her back. Dragging herself into a sitting position, Sam felt a cold roughness behind her. She shuddered with the knowledge that solid stone hemmed her in and enclosed her. The opening to her dank prison was tall and narrow, and in it stood the figure of a man.
“Who … who are you? Why was I brought here?” Sam demanded to know. Her raging anger left no room for fear.
“So you’re finally awake, Samantha.”
Samantha! Only one man called her Samantha. “Vern? What is the meaning of this? I demand you untie me.”
“You’re in no position to demand anythin’,” Vern observed, sneering.
“Release me now, before my husband discovers I’m missing and comes looking for me. Why are you doing this to me?”
“Are you referrin’ to Ranger Andrews? Or do you mean Steven Colter? Are you really married to that meddlin’ fool?”
Disconcerted by Vern’s knowledge as well as his frank question, Sam stumbled over her words. “I … I… damn you, Colt and I have been married for weeks.” She failed to add that her marriage was legal only among the Comanches.
Vern smirked. “Are you surprised I know about Colter? He’s the man who bought your ranch and you knew it all along.”
“N … no! I didn’t know it until later,” Sam refuted. “But that still doesn’t explain why you are holding me prisoner. Or how you got out of jail.”
“Did you know Daddy disinherited me?” Vern asked, moving farther into the cramped, cavelike enclosure.
“I… didn’t know. I’m sorry. What happened?”
“It’s all your fault, Samantha.” He paused to let his words sink in. “If you had married me, none of this would have happened. I’d be wealthy now and you’d be leadin’ a life of luxury and raisin’ my children.”
Sam grimaced distastefully. “I didn’t love you.”
“I suppose you love Colter.”
“Yes. Yes I do. Very much. You can’t blame me for something that was entirely your own doing. It wasn’t me who hired the Crowders to frighten and kill unsuspecting ranchers in order to cheat them out of their land,” Sam spat, warming to the subject. “You and your father were probably responsible for Pop’s death,” she added in a sudden burst of insight. Until this moment she hadn’t considered the possibility that either Vern or his father had ordered Pop’s death in order to seize the Circle H.
“You can’t prove that,” Vern denied sourly. “The court hadn’t a shred of evidence to link me with Daddy’s dealin’s or even suggest I knew what Daddy was up to. Daddy is dead. He died of a heart attack before the trial, and Lyle Crowder was hanged by a lynch mob. I was released from jail shortly afterwards due to lack of evidence.”
“You know damn good and well what your father was doing,” Sam said shrewdly. “Someday, somehow, you’ll be justly punished, even if I have to see to it myself.”
Vern laughed raucously, dropping to his knees before Sam. Grasping her chin between thumb and forefinger, he tilted her face upwards. “When I’m finished with you and your lover, neither of you will be in a position to do anythin’.”
“What will you do?”
“First I get Colter out here, then I kill him.”
“What makes you think he’ll come? Colt’s not stupid.”
“You’re my bait. When he learns I have you he’ll hightail it out here so fast it’ll make your head spin. Once I have him in my sights he’s a dead man.”
“Where are we?” Sam asked.
“In a cave formed by rocks above a shallow valley. It’s called Twin Butte because of the double spires rising from the valley floor. Colter don’t stand a chance. The minute he rides into view I’ll put a bullet through his heart.”
Sam froze, terror-stricken. Her own desperate situation was nothing compared to what Colt faced. Of course he’d ride out after her if he thought she was in danger. But how will he know? She posed the question to Vern.
“We’re but a short distance from San Antonio,” he informed her. “I selected this spot very carefully for its accessibility as well as its ruggedness. It’ll be simple to slip back into town and leave a note for your lover with the desk clerk at your hotel.”
“Vern, please, don’t do this,” Sam tried to reason. “You’re not a vindictive man. I’ve always known you to be kind and thoughtful.” She nearly choked on the lie, hoping to placate him despite the indisputable fact that Vern was a despicable varmint.
“Someone has to pay for everythin’ I lost. Because of you and that Ranger, I’m penniless.” Vern’s eyes grew cold and empty, his lips tightened, and suddenly Sam realized he was quite mad. Driven, no doubt, by his father and by circumstances that left him bereft of friends, family, and wealth. Or had he always been like that?
Vern turned to leave. “I’ll be on my way now, Samantha. Hopefully I’ll be back before dark.”
“Vern, wait!” Sam wailed. “Don’t leave me like this.”
“Nothin’ will happen to you. You’ll be safe enough till I return.”
“What happen then? What are you going to do with me? I won’t marry you. I’m already married.”
“Marry you?” laughed Vern nastily. “You’re plumb loco. I wouldn’t touch you after that Ranger and all those Comanches had you. True, I might have considered it once, to appease Daddy, but after I learned how you and Colter plotted against me, I wanted nothin’ more to do with you. I’ve somethin’ far more subtle planned for you.”
“You’re going to kill me?”
“Too messy.”
“You’ll let me go?”
“Not likely. I reckon you’re a born whore. Once I kill Colter I’m sellin’ you to Injuns. I reckon you’ve whored for them before and won’t mind doin’ it again. Only this time there’ll be no Texas Ranger ridin’ out to rescue you. You’ll quietly disappear.”