Train From Marietta (17 page)

Had he already hurt Tate? She wouldn’t allow herself to think of the possibility that Tate had been killed!

She thought about running, but even in her near panic, she realized there was nowhere to go. It would be easy for a man on horseback to run her down. As the sounds grew closer, her terror increased. She blinked rapidly, then saw Tate on horseback. He pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted. He came toward her quickly, his long strides covering the distance between them. When he had almost reached her, she launched herself against him, clutched him tightly, and buried her face in his sweat-soaked shirt. His arms pulled her to him.

Kate was soundlessly and helplessly crying.

“Don’t cry,” he said softly. “Everything’s fine. I told you I’d be back.”

Kate raised a face wet with tears, her eyes swimming, her lashes spiked with them. “I thought something had happened to you! I thought the Mexican or Hayden had found you!”

“But they didn’t.” Tate wiped the tears from beneath her eyes with his thumbs.

“But you were gone for so long,” Kate said, stifling a sob.

“I know. I had to be sure I wasn’t followed.”

“Then how did you get the Mexican’s horse?”

“Come down by the creek. We’ll sit in the shade, and I’ll tell you about it while we eat what Luke brought from his village.” He looked at her face and grinned. At that, Kate’stears subsided and a smile of her own spread across her wetface. Her heart sang like a bird.

He’s back! He’s safe!

Chapter 15

H
AYDEN WAS ANGRY. He was angry
not only at himself but at that damn Indian kid. This wasn’t the first time that he’d had to deal with the little son of a bitch. Shortly after he’d had his way with the kid’s sister, the boy had come at him with a knife. He should have killed the brat then, but he’d thought that that would be the end of it. He’d thought wrong. How in the hell could he have known that the Indian would team up with Castle?

As he stood in the hot sun, Hayden’s anger escalated. He was sure that the Indian boy was the one who had sneaked in and slipped the halter off his horse. It was a favorite Indian trick. Now, with his horse gone, he would be delayed. He might have made a mistake when he let the boy live; but this time, when he got his hands on the little bastard, he’d choke the life out of him.

Hayden continued to stomp around on the rocky ground, cursing the Indian and Castle. He even had a special curse for that damned idiot Squirrelly If it hadn’t been for him trying to rape the girl, she would never have run away from the cabin, and he wouldn’t be out in this damned heat!

Shaking his head, Hayden brought his mind back to the matter at hand. There were signs that someone had been in his camp, but they were faint. He followed them past a cluster of small scrub trees and a low rise in the rocky soil. He was standing at the top of the rise, scanning the ground for any trace of the Indian, when, off in the distance, he saw something that grabbed his attention. There, riding directly toward him, was a horseman.

Lowering himself to the ground slowly so as not to attract attention, Hayden fixed his eyes on the rider. The bright sunlight of the early Texas day made it hard to make out any clear details, but Hayden felt certain that from what he’d seen it was a Mexican.

Is he looking for me?

He’d had a couple of dealings with the Mexicans across the border. Most of these dealings had involved stolen goods or whiskey, and he’d always made out pretty well. Lately he’d had an ongoing agreement with a group of
bandoleros
to buy whatever gold Spanish coins they managed to find or, more than likely, steal. In turn, Hayden had his own buyers. It had been a good deal. Maybe, if he was lucky, the rider might have come across signs of the woman and Castle. He had to find out.

He moved down the low hill and toward the rider’s path. If he moved quickly, he might be able to intercept the rider and take his horse.

Hayden stood in the thin shadows of a stand of scrub trees and waited. Damn that Indian! He needed a horse. He had never been fond of walking, and besides, with a horse he’d have a much better chance of finding Castle and the girl. The minutes ticked by, and still he waited.

Where was that rider? He should have come by now!

Finally, his patience at an end, Hayden moved away from the stand and picked his way to a higher vantage point. The sun had continued to rise in the cloudless sky, and he could feel the blazing rays beat down on him. Peering out, he saw nothing: no horse, no rider, only heat waves shimmering on the horizon.

Cautiously he worked his way back toward the spot where he had last seen the rider. There was nothing. Moving quickly, he hurried down the creek bed. If he could pick up the rider’s trail, he might be able to catch up with him. He needed that horse!

When he reached the Mexican’s tracks, he found that the rider had indeed taken a different route. He had turned to the north and moved down into a dry creek bed. The horse’s hooves had cracked the dry mud of the bed, making it easy to follow.

It took nearly twenty minutes for Hayden to catch up with the Mexican, and when he did, he was surprised to find him stretched out on the grassy slope, his arms lying limply at his sides. Moving to the man’s side, Hayden found that he wasn’t dead, just unconscious. This was no accident. Working swiftly, Hayden searched the Mexican’s pockets and found nothing worthwhile. If he was bringing coins, whoever waylaid him had taken them. Glancing around, Hayden cursed: The man’s horse was nowhere to be seen. Could this be the work of Castle or the Indian? If it had been a robber, the Mexican would be dead. Castle was a weak man who wouldn’t kill unless he felt he had to.

Indecision racked Hayden’s thoughts. Among his choices was to make his way back to the cabin, get the car, and go to Muddy Creek. If Castle did make it out of here with the woman, the first place he would go was that shitty little town. The problem was that Hayden didn’t want to go there. He was too well known in Muddy Creek. But if he could pick up that prissy tenderfoot Jacobs, he could have him look around and find out if Castle had been to the depot to send a wire. On the other hand, if Castle was the one who stole the Mexican’s horse, then Castle was nearby.

“Is Luke all right?”

Kate and Tate sat beneath a tree, sharing some of the food that Luke had brought from his village. It wasn’t much, but Kate ate ravenously. Tate smiled gently as he answered, “He’s fine. Luke’s a wily little cuss. He turned Hayden’s horse loose. Now Hayden will have to move by foot, and that means we’ll have a little breathing space. Especially since we have a horse.”

“Where is the Mexican?”

“He’s lying back there along the creek bed. Luke knocked him off the horse when I distracted him. When he wakes up, he’ll have a hell of a headache.”

“So, then, where is Luke?” Kate asked as she took a bite of a biscuit even tougher than the ones that had been in Tate’s saddlebag. To her hungry stomach, though, it tasted delicious.

Tate chuckled. “He’s around here somewhere. He’s keeping an eye on Hayden. We’re wondering if the Mexican was looking for Hayden. The Texas Rangers know that Hayden has dealings with an outlaw band across the border. They think it’s something to do with gold coins. If they catch him, he’ll be put away for a good long time.”

“I don’t like the idea of Luke keeping an eye on such a dangerous man. He’s just a boy. Hayden’s mean enough to hurt or kill him if he takes a notion.” The image of Hayden pulling out his knife came back to her once more, and she shivered.

“Luke won’t let Hayden catch him. He has the advantage of being small and quick. Besides, he’s had a lot of practice trailing. He’ll stay out of Hayden’s way.” Tate handed the canteen to Kate. “Have a drink of water.”

She took a couple of swallows and held it out for Tate to take.

“You can have more if you want,” he told her.

“No. That’s enough for now.”

As Tate reached to take the canteen, his fingers gently touched Kate’s, sending a shiver through her body. She looked away quickly, sure that she was blushing, and hoped that he hadn’t noticed.

“We’ll wait here for Luke and then go find shelter.” Tate looked up at the sky and added, “Dark clouds are rolling in from the southwest. Looks like we might be in for a storm.”

Kate ate the rest of her food in silence. With the brief rest and bite to eat, she felt much better. When Luke finally appeared, she said, “Thank you for the food.”

“Me and Tate don’t need you dead.”

“So you’ll keep me alive by feeding me, huh?” Kate chuckled. “That’s nice to hear.”

Luke moved over to where Tate was and sat down on his haunches. He took the water pouch from his belt and took a long swig from it. “Hayden find Mexican. Searched his pockets.”

“What then?” Tate asked.

“He move off way he come.” Luke hung the pouch back on his belt. “I find tracks of longhorn down the draw.”

“There are a dozen or two wild ones in this area. They’ve been breeding out here for years now. Let’s hope we don’t run across one of them while we are on foot.”

“I climb tree when I see longhorn.”

Her curiosity raised, Kate asked, “What are you two talking about? What’s a longhorn?” She couldn’t imagine anything that would make Luke run and hide.

“A longhorn is a breed of steer with horns a yard wide,” Tate said, holding his hands apart to illustrate. “They’ve got a hump on their backs and long skinny legs. They’re fearless. A longhorn will attack a man on foot.” Tate looked concerned. “Most of the ranchers around here quit raising them because they’re too hard to handle. A bunch of them got loose. Some of them were never rounded up. They’re wilder than a scalded cat and twice as mean.”

“That’s why I run,” Luke added.

Tate hung the food bag over the saddle horn and held the stirrup so Kate could mount the horse. “We need to get to shelter before the storm breaks.”

“I don’t think I can get on the horse in this skirt,” Kate said as she tried to throw her leg over the horse.

“I can cut it with my knife. That ought to do it.”

“Go ahead,” Kate said.

Tate got out his knife and split the front of the skirt up to her knees. He then did the same to the back. “Try that.”

Kate put her foot back in the stirrup, and this time easily threw her leg over. Her skirt barely covered her legs, but in the overall scheme of things, it was a minor detail. “This is much better. Thank goodness this isn’t a wild mustang.”

“The horse is well broken.”

Kate didn’t tell him that she was an experienced rider and had ridden some spirited horses, for fear that he would think she was bragging. As it turned out, she didn’t have to handle the horse. Tate walked ahead holding the reins, and she felt rather useless sitting atop the horse.

The dark, rolling clouds were nearer. The sun drifted in and out of them, and a spirited breeze began to pick up, making the hot summer day much cooler. Luke and Tate kept looking at the sky. She worried they would not find shelter before the storm hit.

“Couldn’t we both ride?” she asked Tate. When he didn’t answer, she was sorry for even voicing the question. He was walking faster now that they were on fairly level ground.

Kate watched Tate. He was the most confident man she had ever met. There wasn’t a man she knew, besides her father, who compared with him. John Tyler was single-minded, fearless, and completely honorable. She was sure that her father would like a man so much like himself.

She was jarred from her thoughts when the horse picked up speed. Tate, leading the horse, was running through a clearing of grassland. She looked beyond him to see Luke waving. When they reached the boy, he was standing beneath a shallow overhang. Tate stopped the horse, reached up, and lifted Kate down. Her legs were rubbery, and she leaned against him.

“This is a good place, Luke,” Tate said. “I thought this was where you were taking us. We can stay dry in here unless the wind changes to the north. Thankfully its coming from the south now. Even if it swings around to the northwest, we’ll still be able to stay fairly dry. We’ll also have a good view of the surroundings from here.”

Luke grinned. “I no dumb Indian.”

“Your father taught you well, Little Eagle.”

Luke looked pleased and cast a satisfied grin at Kate. “My father scalped plenty white women.”

“Your father never scalped anybody. Stop trying to scare Kate.”

“I scare silly white woman plenty.” Luke took the reins from Tate and led the horse out from under the overhang and into the dense brush.

“Don’t pay him any mind,” Tate said as he spread out the bedroll for Kate to sit on. “He’s all talk.”

“He doesn’t scare me.” Kate was surprised at how comfortable she was with the cowboy and the Indian boy. It seemed as if she had known them forever, and she had complete confidence in them. They had both risked their lives for her.

Her father would want to do something for them, she mused silently, but he would have to be careful to avoid stepping on their pride. It was obvious that they weren’t helping her because they thought they would be paid.

Yeeeow!
The primitive cry of a cat came from afar. Kate jerked herself erect and tightly gripped Tate’s arm. It felt like time was standing still as she clung to him. The cry came again.

“What… what… is it?” The silence pressed down on her, and then Tate’s voice, low and calm, came close to her ear.

“It’s a wildcat.” Tate’s eyes were searching the rocky ledges. He pulled his rifle free slowly and cocked the trigger. “Don’t move. I don’t want to shoot it if I don’t have to.”

Kate was stiff with fear. Apprehension squeezed her lungs until she couldn’t breathe. Suddenly she felt Tate’s body tense. Looking up at his face, she saw that his eyes had locked onto something, but when she tried to follow his gaze, she saw nothing but bushes and rocks.

“Where is it?” she whispered shakily when she could find the breath.

“To the left and about ten feet up. On that rocky shoulder.”

“Where’s Luke?”

“He’ll have heard the cat and will be looking out for it.”