A Horse Called Mogollon (Floating Outfit Book 3) (24 page)

Giving the naked woman no further
attention, Mark flipped up the bar and tore open the door. As he
sprang into the open, he saw a man emerge from a building that, by
its shape, would be the back-house. The supposition was supported
by the fact that the man was holding up his pants with his left
hand. His right gripped a revolver.

‘
Hey!’
yelled the man, bringing up the gun and firing—to miss.

Mark
’s right hand dipped and closed on
the ivory handle of his off-side Colt. Out it came in less than a
second and roared from waist level. Struck in the chest by the
blond giant’s bullet, the man pitched backwards into the small
cabin.

Already men had reached the
opposite side of the house; Mark could hear one of them pounding on
its door as he fired. Without wasting further time, the big blond
started to run towards where he detected the presence of horses.
Moving fast and swerving, he made a poor target for the figures who
appeared at the far end of the building. Guns crashed and lead made
its eerie sound as it winged by the Texan. In the corrals,
disturbed by the shooting, horses
snorted and milled around. Not only
inside,
Mark observed as he
drew nearer. Three animals backed and tugged at the reins which
secured them to the rails on the outside at the rear of the
enclosures. There was sufficient light from the stars for Mark to
recognize his blood bay. Forgetting his original intention of
opening a corral’s gate and escaping on one of the horses from it,
Mark directed his feet towards the stallion.

Moving swiftly along the curving
side of the corral, hidden from the men by its
occupants
’
restless milling, Mark kept on the alert. One of the approaching
horses suddenly veered away from the railings, snorting in alarm.
Instantly Mark hurled himself sideways. Thrusting himself erect
from where he had been crouching in partial concealment, Roarke cut
loose with his revolver in the blond giant’s direction. Mark missed
death by little more than an inch, but he did not let that distract
him. Swinging his Colt’s barrel parallel to the ground, Mark fired
three times as fast as he could thumb-cock the hammer and control
the recoil. Fanning ahead of him, two of the bullets missed their
target. The third took Roarke in the head as he attempted to
correct his aim. Spun around by the impact, the man involuntarily
discharged his weapon but its load flew harmlessly across the
range.

Striding on as Roarke went down,
Mark reached his objective. Swiftly he set free
Buck-Eye
’s
and Roarke’s horses. Going to his own mount, he unfastened the
reins. Although the men from the buildings were running towards
him, Mark took time to ensure that his saddle’s girths had not been
loosened. Finding all to be satisfactory, he swung into the saddle.
Flattening himself forward along the blood bay’s neck, he turned it
and started it moving. A few shots followed him, but none came
close and he knew that there could be no pursuit until de Brioude’s
hired hands had saddled their horses. Catching the spooked horses
and doing so was likely to be a lengthy business.

After covering almost a mile,
Mark brought his horse to a halt. He listened, but could not hear
any sounds of following riders. Pausing to try to get his bearings,
he set off in what he believed to be the direction of the
Schells
’
camp.

‘
Soldiers
coming,
Dusty,’ warned the Ysabel Kid, bringing his horse to a
sliding halt by the Schells’ camp fire. ‘Around a dozen of ’em, I’d
say.’

The time was shortly after noon
and the mustanging party had returned from making a
successful
corrida.
Instead of the rest and relaxation they had expected,
Jeanie and the men had discovered the reason why Mark had failed to
return the previous night.

Being unfamiliar with the
country he had to traverse and still feeling the effects of the
ordeal, Mark had not reached the camp before dawn. By the time he
had arrived, he found only Libby
and the cook present. When Libby had
learned what had happened, she wanted to recall her people and head
for the Renfrew place. Knowing that the
corrida
would be started before they could reach
Jeanie, Mark had suggested that they should wait until the work was
finished.

Discussing the situation, Libby
and Mark had concluded that the de Brioudes lacked the men to
attempt reprisals. Nor did it seem likely that the
Vicomte
would report the
matter to the law. ‘Constable’ Franklin might be long in the tooth,
but he was a fair and smart peace officer. There would be too many
aspects which the de Brioudes could not explain to his satisfaction
for them to want Franklin involved. Even if the
Vicomte
should call Franklin in, relying on
his popularity to gain the town’s support, Mark knew that Dusty and
the others would be in camp before a posse could arrive. The big
blond also felt sure that the power of Ole Devil Hardin’s name,
backed by his friends’ guns, would ensure him a fair hearing. So he
had insisted on taking no action, a decision which met with Dusty’s
approval when the small Texan was told of it.

Not that Dusty had wasted time
in congratulations. While the kidnapping of Mark might have been
carried out at the
Vicomtesse’s
instigation, if her husband did intend to obtain Mogollon
by violent means she had presented him with an excuse to attack the
Schells’ party. So Dusty had swiftly made arrangements for their
defense. Accompanied by five of the
mesteneros,
Jeanie had been sent to guard the captured
mustangs in the
Caracol de Santa Barbara.
Telling the Kid to make a scout in the
direction of the Renfrew ranch, Dusty had given orders to the
remainder of his companions. Before half an hour had passed, the
Kid returned at a gallop with news.

‘
Soldiers, huh?’ Dusty drawled. ‘From the de Brioudes, do
you reckon?’

‘
Down
that way at least,’ the Kid replied. ‘There’s a feller in buckskins
with ’em, could be a scout.’

‘
How
long before they get here, happen they’re coming?’

‘
Fifteen, twenty minutes at the soonest. They’re riding slow
and watchful, like they was expecting trouble.’

‘
Colin!’ Dusty snapped, blessing his decision to keep the
Scot at the camp instead of sending him with Jeanie. ‘Take Mogollon
and head as fast as you can for Kerrville. If de Brioude’s
escort’ve come back, you’ll find Tam Breda there. If he’s not, see
Franklin and tell him what’s happened. Only watch how you go in
town.’

‘
Trust
me for that,’ Colin replied and headed for the corral at a
sprint.

‘
This’s
what I want the rest of you to do,’ Dusty went on as the Scot made
a record time at transferring his saddle to the chestnut stallion’s
back.

Riding in front of his twelve
men, Lieutenant Lebel gripped his reins so savagely that his
knuckles showed white. Tight-lipped and fighting to prevent his
anger from showing, he searched the land ahead for the first sight
of the Schells
’ camp.

Having helped
Tam Breda to deal
with the
bandidos
earlier than he had expected, Lebel had hurried to rejoin
the de Brioudes. Before he had agreed to assist the peace officer,
Beatrice had intimated that she would be waiting gratefully when he
came back. Instead he had found her suffering from a brutal
assault. Guided by Peet, the besotted young officer had set out
immediately to arrest the man responsible; or, if Mark Counter
resisted, to kill him without mercy.

At Lebel
’s side, Peet was also scouring the
range. Sent to town that morning to gather help, the hunter had
covered less than half the distance when he had seen the soldiers.
So he had turned his horse and ridden swiftly to let de Brioude
know the military escort was returning. The news had caused a
change in the
Vicomte’s
and Stagge’s plans. Instead of attacking the Schells with
their own men and such of Kerrville’s citizens who would join them,
they would let Lebel do it for them. Completely infatuated by
Beatrice, the young lieutenant had needed little convincing that a
great wrong had been done to her. Told the same pack of lies,
Lebel’s enlisted men had shown an equal desire to avenge the
Vicomtesse.
There had only been
one part of the plan which failed to appeal to Peet, he was ordered
to guide the patrol to the camp on Wolf Greek.

When the camp came into view,
Peet slackened his horse
’s pace and let the soldiers go by him. Absorbed
in his cold-eyed scrutiny of the area, Lebel did not notice that
Peet was falling behind. After the last man had passed him, the
hunter reined his horse to a halt. Selecting a clump of
buffalo-berry bushes, he made his way there and concealed himself
behind them. From that position, crouching in his saddle to reduce
the chance of being seen, he watched the patrol ride on.

Oblivious of the
hunter
’s
desertion, Lebel examined the Schells’ camp. Two wagons stood
sideways-on to his party. Between them, Libby Schell, Mark Counter
and a big, plump Mexican cook were gathered around a fire. At first
Lebel felt puzzled as he looked at the trio. None of them showed
more than ordinary, casual interest in the approaching soldiers.
Lebel decided that their lack of concern was understandable. It was
unlikely that Counter had told his companions how he spent the
previous night. So the woman and her cook saw nothing unusual in
the patrol’s visit. Maybe the big blond believed that he had
escaped unrecognized from his crime and so had nothing to fear from
Lebel’s arrival.

Fifty yards from the wagons,
Lebel ordered the patrol to halt, dismount and draw their carbines.
Leaving the horses ground-hitched, the men formed into two ranks.
Spitting into the grass at his feet, Sergeant Heaps opened his
saddle
’s left
side pouch. From it he drew a set of leg-irons and a pair of
handcuffs.

‘
I
forgot to give these back to Breda,’ Heaps commented as Lebel
darted an inquiring glance at him. ‘Could be they’ll come in
useful.’

‘
They
will!’ the officer confirmed grimly, and led his men
forward.

‘
Howdy,
young feller,’ Libby said, placing hands on hips and eyeing the
lieutenant coldly. ‘There’s some’s’d say it’s polite to wait until
you’re asked to do it, but we’ve got to mind you’re Yankees. So
come up to
my
fire and rest yourselves.’

Annoyed by the implied criticism of
his manners, Lebel brought his escort to a stop farther from the
fire than he had originally intended.

‘
I’m
here on official business, ma’am!’ he announced stiffly.

‘
Such
as?’ challenged Libby.

‘
I’m
going to arrest that man,’ Lebel answered, indicating
Mark.

‘
What
for?’ Libby asked, doing as Dusty had told her.

Deciding that the woman would be more
amenable to reason if he treated her with frankness. Lebel sucked
in a deep breath. His upbringing and training had instilled firm
ideas of what should or should not be mentioned when addressing a
member of the gentle sex. So he needed a moment to prepare himself
for the disclosure.

‘
Last
night Counter raided the de Brioudes’ camp, raped the
Vicomtesse
and killed two men
while he was escaping,’ Lebel explained, eyes glowing hatred at the
blond giant. ‘Put the handcuffs and leg-irons on him,
sergeant.’

‘
Yo!’
Heaps barked, jingling the instruments of restraint in his hands. A
wolfish leer twisted at his lips, for he doubted if the big Texan
would permit such an indignity.

Taken with the
lieutenant
’s
words, the sergeant’s too obvious eagerness to obey ripped like a
knife into Mark. Instead of continuing to follow Dusty’s
instructions, the big blond tensed like a cougar preparing to
spring.

‘
The
only way you’ll do it is after I’m dead,’ Mark warned, hands
hovering the butts of his Army Colts. ‘And I’m not ready to die
just yet.’

About to accept
Mark
’s
defiance as an excuse to start shooting, Sergeant Heaps identified
a sinister double clicking noise which came to his ears. It was the
sound made by a Henry repeating rifle being charged and brought to
full cock—and the soldiers carried nothing but single-shot Sharps
carbines.

Swiveling
their heads in the direction of
the sound, the cavalrymen saw the Ysabel Kid bound from the rear of
the right side wagon. He landed with a cat-like grace, facing them.
No longer did the Kid seem young or innocent, but created an
impression of savage, deadly menace as he gripped the new model
‘Henry’ ready for instant use. Like Mark, the Kid sensed that
Lebel’s and Heaps’ hostility went beyond the needs of their duty.
Never a respecter of authority and having little liking for the
Union Army, the dark youngster forgot the part he had been told to
play.