Winter Fire (29 page)

With a tight movement she yanked off her apron and hung it on a nail.

“Morgan is watching the Culpeppers,” she told herself aloud. “He won't let Conner do anything foolish.”

The words seemed to echo in the room.

Conner
.

Foolish
.

She ran outside. The door banged behind her. She didn't notice the bite of the wind or the sting of tiny snowflakes whipping across her face.

“Conner?” Sarah called. “Where are you?”

Blindly she ran toward the clump of tall sage where her brother had set up his camp.

“Conner? Conner!”

The wind brought her cries back to her, mocking her as she had been mocked once before, when she called out to the darkness and flood for her younger brother.

I found him then
.

I'll find him now
.

His camp was empty, but his saddle was still there, still waiting to be used as a pillow.

“Conner! Answer me!”

Nothing answered but the wind.

Strands of hair ripped loose by the wind lashed across her face. She caught the hair and hung on to it, twisting it through her fingers like a lifeline.

“Not now,” she said. “Not when I've finally found the silver for you! Where are you? Conner!
Conner!
”

She was still calling her brother's name when Case spun her around and wrapped her in his arms. Hard.

“Easy, honey. Easy. Get hold of yourself and tell me what's wrong.”

Only when his gentle, velvet voice penetrated her fear did Sarah realize that she was screaming her brother's name again and again.

“Is Conner with you?” she asked hoarsely.

“He's up on the rim.”

“Are you certain? Did you see him up there?”

“No, but he knows when it's his turn to stand watch.”

“He didn't go.”

“What?”

“Lola is on watch. Conner never showed up.”

Case turned and looked over his shoulder.

“Hunter?” he asked.

“Haven't seen him,” Hunter said.

“Morgan, what about you?” Case asked.

“No, suh. Nary hide nor hair.”

“Morgan!” Sarah said.

She jerked herself free of Case's arms and turned to face the black gunfighter.

“Why aren't you spying on the Culpeppers?” she accused. “You're supposed to be there!”

Warily Morgan glanced at Case.

He was looking at Sarah as though she were a stranger.

“Take it easy, honey,” he said. “Morgan is following Hunter's orders.”

She closed her eyes as though to shut out everyone, especially Case.

“Did he talk with you about spying on the Culpeppers?” she asked tightly.

“Conner?” Case asked.

It took every bit of her self-control not to scream at him that of course she was talking about her brother.

“Yes,” she said in an unnaturally calm voice. “He's the only one missing, correct?”

Case looked at her as warily as Morgan had.

“If you say so,” he said carefully, “then Conner is missing.”

“I say so.”

The bleakness in her eyes made him want to hold her again.

“This morning…” she said. Her voice went from hoarse to silent. “This morning, Conner said he had an idea about spying on the Culpeppers.”

Morgan said something scalding under his breath.

Hunter's mouth flattened into a grim line.

“Go on,” Case said.

“There's nowhere to go,” she said. “Conner had an idea and now he's gone.”

“Morgan,” Hunter began.

“I'm on my way.”

“I'll go with you,” Case said.

“So will I,” Sarah said.

Both men turned to argue.

Three quick shots from the rim cut off whatever the men were going to say. There was a pause, then a fourth shot.

“Company,” Case said tersely.

“Just one,” she said.

“Just one showing,” Hunter countered. “Case, stay with her. Morgan, come with me.”

“Ute will take the cottonwoods,” Sarah said. “He always does when Conner is gone.”

Hunter nodded. He and Morgan left for the brush behind the house at a trot, weapons in hand.

“Don't worry,” Case said. “Hunter won't let us be outflanked.”

“I hope Lola doesn't shoot them by mistake.”

“She'll never even see them.”

Shivering, Sarah said nothing.

“Where's your jacket?” Case asked.

“In the house.”

“Of all the fool places for it to be,” he muttered, peeling off his own jacket and holding it out to her.

She was already heading for the cabin at a run.

He suspected it wasn't the jacket she was worried about, but her shotgun.

He was right.

When she reappeared a moment later, there was a shotgun in her hands. She was wearing her jacket more as a means of carrying extra cartridges than for warmth. The pockets bulged with ammunition.

“Don't show yourself,” Case said.

“But—”

Sarah's words were cut off as he dragged her into the cover provided by brush and boulders.

“You won't do Conner any good dead,” he said curtly.

Case pulled out his spyglass and began watching the trail down from the rim. In tense silence she waited.

“It's Ab,” he said.

“Alone?”

“As far as I can see.”

A prickle of unease went over Sarah's spine. There was something in Case's voice that made her cold. She searched his face, but saw nothing.

Then he lowered the spyglass and turned toward her. His eyes were as empty as death.

“He has Conner's hat.”

All color left her face. She swayed as though she had been struck.

He reached for her, only to have her push his hand away sharply.

“I'm all right,” she said.

Her voice was as empty as his eyes.

“Likely your brother is still alive,” Case said neutrally, “or else Ab wouldn't parade in here alone with his hat.”

A shuddering, sawing breath was her only answer.

“Let me talk to Ab,” he said.

She hesitated, then nodded.

“Stay out of sight,” he added. “Ab can be…unreasonable…when women or kids are around.”

Sarah made a harsh sound that could have been a laugh.

“Unreasonable,” she said bitterly. “That's like describing hell as a passably warm place.”

“I'll stand where you can cover Ab without shooting through me.”

“Stay close enough that I can hear.”

It wasn't a request. He knew he could stay close or she would follow him and to hell with her own safety.

He didn't blame her. If it had been Hunter whose hat was in Ab's hands, Case would have done the same.

Swiftly he made a diagonal path through the brush to a place where Ab would pass close by on his way to the cabin. He loaded both barrels of the shotgun, cocked it, and waited with the patience of death.

Ab made no attempt to hide himself. He rode brazenly down the trail, holding Conner's hat like a shield in front of him.

And it was.

No one would touch Ab until Conner's fate was known.

Nothing has changed
, Case thought bleakly.
Peace or war, vultures still follow the Culpeppers
.

Conner isn't their first hostage
.

But by God he will be their last
.

“That's far enough,” Case said. “State your business.”

Ab took his time about stopping the mule. His pale blue eyes searched every bit of cover. He couldn't see the man behind the voice.

“You ain't very neighborly,” Ab said.

“Keep it in mind.”

With deliberate movements, Ab pulled a plug of tobacco from his pocket, gnawed off a hunk, and began chewing.

Case waited.

By the time Ab was halfway through his chaw, it was clear that Case wasn't going to start any conversations or make any foolish moves.

“All right,” Ab said. “I got her brother. I want her silver. We'll swap even up.”

“What makes you think Mrs. Kennedy has any silver?”

“Been following you. Dug every hole you dug. Empty.” Ab spat into the dirt. “The last time I backtracked you, your horses' hooves cut deep. Been searching real hard, but you musta got it all. Them holes is as empty as a grave waiting for a burying.”

Case wasn't surprised by Ab's words. He had guessed what the raider wanted from the moment he saw Conner's hat.

“We give you the silver, we get Conner back alive, and every last one of you sons of bitches hits the trail for California,” Case said neutrally. “Deal?”

Wind combed through the brush, rattling dry branches. It was the only sound for a time.

“She brings the silver,” Ab said finally.

“No.”

Silence and wind moved through the brush.

“Guess that boy's a goner,” Ab said indifferently.

“He dies, you die.”

“No!” Sarah called from the brush. “I'll bring the silver to you!”

Case hissed something savage.

“I'll bring the silver or there's no deal,” he said to Ab.

“What makes you think I'd cotton to you more than to a lively little gal?” Ab mocked.

“I'm one of those Texicans you worry about.”

Ab went real still.

“Any particular part of Texas?” he asked.

“Heaven Valley.”

Ab grunted and his lean face flattened even more.

“Thought so,” he said. “Mind showin' yourself? Your voice is kinda familiar like.”

“It should be. You thought I worked for you in the Ruby Mountains.”

The lean mule jumped as though it had been stuck with a needle.

“You murdered my kin,” Ab said savagely.

“I killed them,” Case said. “There's a difference.”

“Dead is dead.”

“Your kin were men and they were armed. They had a choice. That's more than you ever gave our children or women.”

Ab looked to the place in the brush where Sarah's voice had come.

“He can carry the silver for you,” Ab said to her. “Bring it at dawn to our camp.”

“She stays here,” Case said flatly.

“Her choice.” Ab grinned and spat again. “But I think the gal wants to see her brother alive.”

“I'll go,” Sarah called.

Case didn't think so, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Dawn,” Ab said.

With a sharp movement, he reined his mule around.

“Ab?” Case said softly.

The quality of his voice froze the other man in place. Mule and man looked warily back at the brush.

“If Conner is hurt,” Case said, “everything you did to him will be done to you. And then we'll hang you.”

“
D
amnation, woman
, will you listen to reason?” Case asked loudly.

“Say something reasonable and I'll listen,” Sarah retorted.

“
Stay home
.”

“And get Conner killed? If that's your idea of reason, it's a wonder even your horse listens to you!”

Ute, Morgan, and Hunter were outside the cabin, but that didn't mean they couldn't hear every word. They shifted their feet uncomfortably and tried not to listen to the man and woman who were standing nose to nose inside the cabin and hollering as though they were across the yard from each other.

Lola just grinned and kept on carding the wool she had gathered from the black and white goat.

“A sawbuck says she goes,” Lola said to no one in particular.

Ute grunted and shook his head, refusing the bet.

“Boys?” Lola invited.

Morgan and Hunter looked at each other. Neither one accepted her offer to wager ten dollars on the outcome of the argument.

Lola spit an arc of tobacco juice, chuckled, shifted her legs on the cold ground, and kept on carding wool for
Sarah to spin as soon as she quit arguing. The basket in Lola's lap was rapidly filling with a mound of clean, combed wool.

“That boy done met his match,” she said after a time. “He just don't know it yet. But he'll settle to it.”

“Don't bet any money on the long run,” Hunter said quietly. “The war changed Case. Cold where he was hot. Silence instead of laughter. Have you ever seen him smile?”

Lola looked thoughtful, then shook her head.

“Some men don't have no sense of fun,” she said, shrugging.

Hunter smiled sadly. “Case had enough play in him for a sack full of puppies. The war burned that out of him, too.”

“She's going to Spring Canyon,” Lola said.

“Ute could keep her here,” Morgan said.

The old outlaw's smile was even sadder than Hunter's had been. He shook his head.

“Man that keeps her here better never turn his back on her again,” Ute said simply.

“All right. I'll do it,” Morgan said.

For a moment Ute looked thoughtful. Then he shook his head.

“I'll fight you,” he said.

“For the love of God,” Hunter muttered. “Why?”

“She wants something. I fetch it for her.”

“Well,” drawled Morgan, “that explains the blooded bull mixed in with the range cows.”

The old outlaw grinned. “Followed me home, he did.”

“I'll bet,” Hunter said dryly. “Same for the better bred horses, too.”

“And half the supplies and the tools and every other thing around here that needs cash on the barrelhead,” Lola said. “Sarah cottoned onto the rustling and made Ute stop, but she ain't figured out the supplies yet.”

Lola stopped carding wool and looked up at Hunter with clear black eyes.

“Don't waste no time trying to talk sense into Ute about that girl,” she said evenly. “He's plumb loco on the subject. Better bend your mind as to how best to use him to keep her alive.”

“I've got an idea about that,” Hunter said. “If Ab thinks Sarah is bringing the silver, that's as good as having her go.”

Morgan looked at Hunter, glanced over at the short, wiry old outlaw, and smiled widely.

It took Ute a few moments longer. His eyes widened. Then he laughed.

Lola spat a dark brown arc.

“Wondered how long it would take you men to get around to seeing what's plain as the nose on your face,” she said.

“Will you do it?” Hunter asked Ute bluntly. “Or will you fight us?”

“I'll do it, if'n she'll let me.”

Hunter cocked his head toward the suddenly silent cabin.

“Do you suppose my brother has worn her down enough to listen to common sense?” he asked.

Lola snorted. “Men. Ain't a lick of common sense in the lot of you. That gal in there is one hell of a lot tougher than she looks.”

Hunter's smile warmed his slate-gray eyes. He gave Lola an amused look and tipped his hat in acknowledgment.

“I've discovered that some women are indeed stronger than they look,” he said.

“His wife taught him,” Morgan added slyly.

“It wasn't an easy lesson, for either of us,” Hunter admitted.

Lola spat another arc of tobacco juice and gathered up the wool she had just carded.

“Easy ain't worth a tinker's damn,” she said, standing up. “Easy folds when you need it most. Ain't one bit of easy in Sarah.”

“Or in Case,” Hunter said.

“Like I said. Good match. Mettlesome, mind you, but good.”

Silence continued to radiate from the cabin.

“Which one of you brave boys wants to take this here wool in to her?” Lola asked blandly.

“No, ma'am,” Morgan muttered.

Ute grunted and kept his thumbs firmly hooked on his belt.

Hunter held out his hand.

Chuckling, Lola gave him the basket of wool.

“She don't bite,” the old woman said. “Leastwise, not hard enough to leave scars.”

He tipped his hat again, then turned to Morgan.

“Find out if Conner is still alive,” Hunter said. “Ab has a reputation for killing prisoners.”

“If he's alive, I'll try to get him out.”

“Not unless you're sure of doing it without getting either one of you killed. We stand a better chance together than apart.”

Morgan hesitated, then nodded.

“Slow and easy,” he agreed. “I'll be quiet as a shadow.”

“Be back two hours before dawn.”

“What if Conner is dead?” Morgan asked.

“Get back on the run.”

“Mind if I cut some throats on the way?” he asked.

“Just get back in one piece.”

“Burn them out,” Ute said. “Only two ways out of Spring Canyon. Two men on the rim at each end. Easy as shooting tin cans.”

Morgan nodded, liking the idea.

“The Culpeppers burned out a lot of folks,” he said. “Tried it on us up in the Rubys. Live by the sword and
die the same way. It's about time those boys did their dying.”

“Two hours before dawn,” Hunter said. “Get moving.”

Without another word he turned away, strode to the cabin and knocked on the door.

“It's Hunter,” he said. “I've got some wool for Sarah.”

“The door is open. Do come in.”

He sighed. Her voice had an edge that could slice bacon thin enough to read newsprint through. He opened the door, ducked to accommodate his tall frame to the low doorway, and went into the cabin.

Sarah was stirring beans as though life itself depended on keeping the bottom of the pan scraped.

Case was watching her.

The look in his eyes surprised Hunter. He hadn't seen that kind of seething, unsettled emotion in his brother for years.

“Where do you want the wool?” Hunter asked.

“Away from the fire,” she said tersely. Then, belatedly, “Thank you.”

He set the basket in a corner of the cabin and turned to look at the man and woman whose frustration and anger were thick enough to touch.

He cleared his throat.

“We have a plan,” he said.

“It damned well better include me,” she said flatly.

“It damned well better not,” Case snarled.

“You both get your wish.”

As one, Sarah and Case turned toward Hunter. The wary hope and fierce determination in her eyes reminded Hunter of the woman he loved.

“You've never met my wife,” he said to Sarah. “I hope you do someday. You're both cut from the same honest, stubborn cloth.”

She smiled wearily. “Someday. If we all survive tomorrow's dawn.”

“You will,” Case said, “if it's the last thing I do.”

“I'm going.”

“You're stay—”

“Excuse me,” Hunter interrupted. “Time is wasting and we have a lot of planning to do.”

“You better plan on her staying here,” Case said.

“Think,” his brother said. “The instant Ab knows that she isn't along, Conner dies.”

Case looked at Sarah, plainly wishing she weren't listening. But she was, and she wasn't going to leave.

“Conner may already be dead,” he said flatly.

Her breath came in hard and stayed, threatening to strangle her. She didn't want to think about Conner's death.

Yet it was impossible for her to think about anything else. That was why she had lashed out at Case and everything else within reach.

“I sent Morgan to find out,” Hunter said.

“I should have gone,” Case said.

“Why? He's as good as you on the stalk.”

“I could have lowered the odds while I was looking around.”

“So will Morgan, if Conner is dead.”

Sarah made a low sound of protest.

“Ab won't kill Conner until he has the silver,” she said.

“Likely not,” Hunter said.

“But once he has the silver,” Case said, “he'll kill everything he can, burn the rest, and run.”

“It's what the Culpeppers are best at, raping and killing and running,” Hunter agreed.

“I'm afraid for my brother,” she said starkly.

“You have reason. But he's too big and too strong to bring out the worst in Ab,” Hunter said simply. “Conner is much more a man than a child.”

Sarah closed her eyes and tried to breathe. When Case gathered her in his arms, she didn't fight him. She simply held on to him and prayed that her brother was alive.

Case stroked her hair and held her in return, wishing all the way to his soul that he could give her back her brother.

“If Conner is dead…” he said to Hunter.

His brother nodded grimly.

“Otherwise, this is what we're planning,” Hunter said.

Sarah lifted her head.

“It better include me,” she said.

Hunter started talking before Case could start arguing.

 

Sarah watched the fire in the hearth with eyes turned gold by the flames. She had moved back into the cabin, for the need to hide herself and the silver was gone.

It was long past her normal bedtime, but she knew that sleep wouldn't come to her tonight.

The whisper of flames and her spinning were the only sounds in the cabin.

Firelight ran in streaks of brightness over the moving spindle and the motionless barrels of the shotgun that lay within reach on the table. Her jacket hung on the other chair, its pockets bulging with cartridges.

She tried not to think about anything at all but keeping the fire burning throughout the night.

So little heat. So much cold
.

“Sarah?”

The soft voice made her jump, but she didn't reach for the shotgun.

“Come in,” she said quietly.

The door opened and closed. Case loomed out of the darkness. As he walked toward the fire, light and shadow slid across his body like a lover's hands.

“I smelled smoke,” he said, “so I knew you were awake.”

“The fire…comforts me.”

“Morgan just came back.”

Sarah's heart turned over. She looked at Case as though will alone could bring the answer she wanted.

“Your brother is alive,” Case said quickly. “Chewed up some, but otherwise fine.”

The relief was so great that she slumped toward the fire.

With a swift motion he lifted her and carried her to her bed. Gently he put her on the pallet and began rubbing her cold hands.

“I'm all right,” she said.

“Uh huh,” he said, not convinced.

“Truly.”

She gave a deep, shuddering sigh. Color slowly returned to her face.

“Stop worrying about dawn,” he said.

A fragmented laugh was her only answer.

He whispered her name and pulled her into his arms again. He held her, comforting both of them.

“Conner will come back to you alive,” Case said. “I swear it.”

“B-but—”

“Hush,” he whispered. “Morgan is already headed back to Spring Canyon. He thinks he can get in close enough to protect Conner.”

Or try to
, Case thought grimly, but it wasn't something he wanted to say aloud.

From what Morgan had said, Conner was staked out like a goat waiting for a hungry tiger.

Sarah took a broken breath, then another.

“They won't expect us to be up on the rim with the sun behind us,” he said calmly. “Lola and Ute are working on the
reales
like you asked, though I'm damned if I know why you want them polished.”

She nodded, but she didn't look directly at Case.

“If you don't sleep, you won't be any good to us to
morrow,” he said. “We're counting on you and Lola to cover our retreat.”

At least, that's what we want you to think
, he added silently.
What we really care about is having you out of the line of fire
.

Again, Sarah nodded.

Again, she didn't meet his eyes.

“Say something,” Case coaxed. “Lord knows you were talkative enough earlier.”

“What is there to say?” she whispered.

He looked at her pale lips and knew she was right. Talking about tomorrow would only make the wait longer.

“If you get pregnant, go to the Ruby Mountains,” he said. “Hunter will see that you and the baby have a good home.”

She didn't answer. She couldn't. Before she even absorbed the fact that he didn't expect to survive past dawn, his mouth was over hers, sealing in any words or arguments she might have.

After the first taste of him, she didn't fight the sensual oblivion he was offering. She reached for him with an urgency that equaled his. Even as he struggled with her clothes, she was removing his.

For every kiss she gave, she received two. For every caress, a greater intimacy. When his fingers probed between her thighs, he found her hot, soft, honeyed with passion. He entered her in a single thrust that made her cry out with a pleasure so great it was nearly pain.