Someone Like You (Night Riders) (35 page)

“I’m the one who’s leading. I have to be in front. Remember, Henry won’t try to kill me himself.”

Maria didn’t know how Rafe could be so sure of that. She didn’t know anything about killers, but she doubted they could be depended upon to behave according to expectations. After all, murder wasn’t exactly normal behavior. She could think of a hundred perfectly logical reasons why Rafe should change his mind, but she wasn’t able to put forth any of them because Henry had reached them.

“It’s a perfect day for a cougar hunt,” he said as he dismounted.

Maria eyed the rifle in a scabbard attached to his saddle.
She saw no reason it couldn’t be used on a man as well as a cougar.

“Most of the time cougars keep their distance from the ranch,” Rafe said to Henry, “but this one has been giving us a lot of trouble recently. It might be injured or too old to hunt deer any longer.”

“Let’s go,” Henry said. “I’m familiar with the lower canyon. I used to hunt there as a boy.”

“We’re going to the upper canyon,” Rafe said. “One of my men sighted him there yesterday.”

“I know that one, too.”

As far as Maria could tell, Henry showed no sign of being upset or even vaguely concerned about the change in plans. That meant what ever he’d planned, he thought he could pull it off no matter what Rafe did. She racked her brain for something to say that would make Rafe cancel the hunt, but she knew it was useless. In many ways he was very modern in his treatment of women, but in instances like this, he expected her to sit patiently at home and wait for him to return.

“I’ll let you lead the way,” Rafe said as both men mounted up. “I’ve been in that canyon only once. I was a young boy and don’t remember it well.”

“I’ll be happy to lead the way,” Henry offered. “It’ll give me first shot at the cougar.”

Maria just prayed the first shot would not be fired at Rafe. She was still standing in front of the stables, watching the men disappear in the distance, when Luis came from the house. “Rafe told you to stay inside until he returned,” she reminded him.

“I was using the telescope Rafe gave me. I wanted to see how far up the mountain I could see him,” Luis said.

“Why did you stop watching?” she asked.

“I saw Roger follow them.”

“Who’s Roger?”

“He’s the man Papa fired,” Luis replied.

Maria had a vague memory of a man who had been fired making a bit of trouble, but Miguel had taken care of it.

“Roger’s nephew told me Roger swore he wouldn’t rest until every male Jerry was dead. I’m a male Jerry. Does that mean he wants to kill me?”

Maria tried to throttle the feeling of panic that threatened to choke her. “Go back to the house and don’t leave for any reason until Rafe and I return.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to follow Roger. And I plan to take a gun.”

M
aria was thankful the trail into the mountains was so well traveled that even she could follow it. Tree branches and vines constantly caught on her skirt. She’d never realized so many bushes and trees came supplied with thorns. She didn’t care about her dress, but untangling her clothes slowed her down. She caught only an occasional glimpse of Roger, who was far ahead of her. She wasn’t good at hiding. If he did spot her, she hoped he would ignore her the way most men in California ignored women.

The holster she had belted around her waist felt awkward. She’d never worn a gun. She hadn’t even handled one. She knew this one was loaded only because one of the stable boys had said it was. She had no idea what she would do when and if she confronted Roger, but it would have been pointless to go after him without some sort of weapon.

She had to find Broc. She had to tell him Roger was the man trying to kill Rafe.

A particularly evil thorn caught the sleeve of her dress. Her forward movement caused it to dig deep into the soft flesh of her arm. Resisting the urge to cry out in pain, she clenched her teeth and let the forward motion of the horse tear the thorn from her sleeve. She didn’t look to see if she was bleeding. She couldn’t do anything about it, so why bother?

She appreciated the shade of the occasional oak that cast a shadow over the trail, but she wished every tree and bush that blocked her view of Roger had been cut down. The trail was so full of sharp curves and switchbacks, she found it impossible to keep him in constant sight. It was no comfort
to her that Roger would have an equally difficult time keeping Rafe in view. But it didn’t take long to raise a rifle and shoot.

“What are you doing here?”

Broc’s sudden appearance nearly caused her heart to stop beating. She jerked so hard on the horse’s reins, he grunted and tossed his head in anger.

“You’ve got to go back to the house,” Broc said. “You might scare off the man I’m following.”

“Roger,” she supplied.

“Is that his name? I’ve seen him hanging about town looking for handouts.”

“Warren fired him some time back. Luis said Roger told his nephew he wouldn’t rest until every male Jerry was dead.”

Broc had a very surprised look on his face, but it gradually changed as a series of thoughts chased themselves through his mind. “Roger is always begging. I saw him come out of Henry Fielder’s office one day, so I figured he was trying to get money out of Henry.” Broc stared at Roger’s figure growing smaller in the distance. “I don’t see the man as a killer, but I can’t take a chance on being wrong. If you won’t go back to the ranch, stay well behind me. If you get hurt, Rafe won’t understand why I didn’t take you back to the ranch and make sure you stayed there.”

“I wouldn’t stay.”

“That’s why I’m not going to waste time trying.”

Maria didn’t like having to lag behind, but she didn’t want to do anything that would interfere with Broc’s preventing Roger from shooting at Rafe. She worried even more about Henry. What would stop the lawyer from shooting Rafe himself? She doubted anyone in town would believe a respected lawyer would kill his richest client. He could push Rafe over a cliff, start a landslide, or say a tree limb fell on him and cracked his skull. She was so busy torturing herself with all the things Henry could do to Rafe, it took her several minutes to realize Roger had disappeared.

Ahead, Broc rode with his rifle across his saddle, his eyes scanning the brush-covered hillside as he passed. Had Roger guessed Broc was following him, or had he assumed Broc was just another hunter who would ride past and disappear up the mountainside? Would he try to kill Broc so there couldn’t be any witness to his attempt to murder Rafe? Did he know Maria was following both of them? If so, what would he do?

How had she ever thought she could help Rafe? The only thing she could have done was to let him know Roger was the one who was trying to kill him, but she didn’t know where Rafe had gone. If she did find him, how could she tell him without Henry guessing? She was out of her depth, but she couldn’t have remained safe at the ranch while Rafe was out here risking his life.

The morning seemed eerily quiet. Usually birds and small animals would be heard hunting among the dry leaves for seeds and other bits of food. There was no breeze to rustle the leaves of the trees. No distant sound of voices shouting to and fro or raised in song. The
plop, plop, plop
of her horse’s hooves sounded unnaturally loud in the silence. She swayed gently in the saddle as the horse’s shoulder blades rose and fell with strides so hypnotic it made it difficult to stay alert.

It took Roger’s sudden appearance on the trail between her and Broc to bring her brain to full awareness.

Roger had left his horse and was on foot, but he carried his rifle. They had reached a point in the trail where a series of switchbacks made it difficult to keep anyone in sight for more than a short time. Roger was walking slowly, his gaze locked on the trail above him. Maria had to get closer. Afraid Roger would hear her horse as she approached, she slid out of the saddle and ran forward as rapidly as she could.

She’d never hiked or ridden in the mountains and had no idea how difficult it was to run up a steep incline. Twice she stumbled on loose gravel. Her dress protected her knees, but her hands were bruised, and blood was beginning to ooze
from small cuts. She reached a spot where she could see Roger in time to glimpse him raising his rifle. She couldn’t see what he was aiming at, but she was certain it was Broc. She couldn’t hit Roger, but she could distract him. She reached for her pistol only to realize a strap held it in place. The stable boy had said the strap would make sure she didn’t lose it. She lost precious seconds fumbling with the strap before she got it loose and yanked the pistol out of its holster.

She raised it in Roger’s direction, closed her eyes, and fired.

The sound of something crashing through the brush above caused Maria to open her eyes. Roger’s body tumbled down the mountainside, crashed through the low-hanging limbs of a stunted oak, and landed on the trail less than ten feet from her. When he didn’t move, the shock of what had happened hit her.

I have killed a man!

Her brain refused to accept that. She could barely process the fact that she’d fired a pistol. She was still standing there, body stiff, gun held in unsteady hands, when Broc appeared around the bend in the trail. He went straight to Roger’s body and knelt down to examine it.

“I killed him.” Maria’s voice sounded hollow. “I killed him.”

Broc turned the body over and checked it carefully before standing to turn and face Maria.

“There’s no bullet wound on his body.” He pointed up at the boulder-strewn mountainside. “He must have thrown himself down to avoid the bullet and hit his head on one of those rocks. He has a crushed skull.”

Maria’s body sagged with relief. The fact that she hadn’t killed him directly might not make any difference to some people, but it made a huge difference to her.

“You should go back to the ranch.”

Broc’s words brought Maria out of her dazed state. “Rafe is still up there with Henry. We’ve got to let him know Roger is dead.”

“It’s already been done. You did it.”

“How?”

“A pistol shot was the signal Rafe and I arranged between us. Rifle fire could be an exchange between me and Roger or it might be another hunter on the mountain, but no hunter would carry a pistol. A pistol shot would tell him I’d caught the man who’d been sent to kill him.”

“What was Rafe planning to do when he heard the shot?”

“Confront Henry with the knowledge that Rafe knew what he’d been trying to do and that I had captured the man, who would be forced to testify against him.”

“But Roger is dead. He can’t testify.”

“I know that but Rafe doesn’t. And neither does Henry.”

Maria’s attempt to help Rafe had deprived him of his only witness. The lawyer might deny the charges, and Rafe wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Rafe would continue to be in danger.

Henry had dismounted and was about to make his way to the top of a group of boulders that had been washed down from the mountain in some ancient rainstorm when Rafe heard the pistol shot. He was relieved. Now he didn’t have to worry about getting shot in the back, but the knowledge didn’t rid him of the heavy feeling in his chest. Henry had been his father’s best friend for years. He couldn’t understand what had caused the lawyer to turn on the one man who’d done so much to help him establish himself in Cíbola. He could understand greed, but he didn’t understand the willingness to kill for money.

He watched Henry scramble around the boulders. He was in remarkable physical condition for his age. Why hadn’t he been out enjoying life rather than sitting inside brooding over ways to steal money? Rafe felt sorry for him. A lifelong bachelor, Fielder probably had little to look forward to but his work.

“Henry, stop,” Rafe called out. “I have something to tell you.”

Henry paused, stood, and turned to look down at Rafe. “We can talk later. I’ve found some footprints.”

“Forget about the cougar for right now. Come down. We need to talk.”

It was hard to tell at this distance, but it looked as if Henry’s body had gone rigid. Could he have guessed what Rafe was going to say?”

Rafe wished he could have been close enough to Henry to see his reaction when he told him Broc had captured the man who would testify against him. He’d like to see at least a trace of remorse. He’d always thought of Henry Fielder as a kind man who was looking out for his father’s best interests. Several times his kindness had extended to Rafe. It was hard to believe this man had tried to have him killed.

But there was no point in dwelling on the past. He had to put an end to this threat.

“Come down, Henry. I know you’ve twice tried to have me killed. I also know that you had the gazebo sabotaged so it would fall on Maria and that you are responsible for Miguel’s accident.”

Henry’s expression didn’t change. “That’s absurd. Your father was my best friend. What could I hope to gain?”

“Control of Rancho los Alamitos so you could embezzle from it. I suspect you’ve been embezzling since my father became too sick to manage things himself.”

“Nobody will believe you.”

“They will because I have the man you hired to kill me.”

“You don’t have anybody. There’s just the two of us out here.”

“I figured you’d try to kill me before I could sign the new will, so I invited you on this hunt. I knew you wouldn’t do it yourself, that you’d hire someone so you’d be above suspicion. I had my friend Broc wait along the trail to see who followed us. That gunshot you heard was our prearranged signal to let me know he’d caught the man.”

“This is all a figment of your imagination,” Henry said.

“My father helped you establish your business. Luis and I have done nothing to harm you. Why did you do it?”

Rather than come down to face Rafe, Henry started to climb the boulders again.

“You can’t get away,” Rafe called out. “You’ll have to come down sooner or later.”

Henry didn’t answer, just kept climbing.