Thirty-seven

Frigid night air penetrated Marley’s coat and set her shaking from head to foot. She closed her eyes, picturing a warm, golden fire, imagining herself in her house, sipping a cup of hot tea. For a brief moment, she felt cozy and safe, as though she were still cuddled up next to Roan. At home, he had made her his in every way. He’d come after her. If he was alive.

Just because Gentry said it, didn’t make it so. A slender thread of hope rose.

Even if Roan had succumbed, her papa would find her. She’d seen him track a scorpion through hot coals before.

Although she yearned to doze, she didn’t dare let herself. She wouldn’t risk falling from the horse. She had to force herself to stay awake and ready to act as soon as a chance made itself clear. At least she’d left the scrap of her dress back at the gap. Maybe they’d find it and realize she was sending a message.

Gentry rode beside her, and she kept glancing at him, waiting for an opportunity. Periodically, he’d nod off, his chin falling to his chest, but immediately jerk awake and growl something at her as though his heavy eyes were her fault. But he was no longer holding her reins, and that could be his last mistake. She gripped them in her icy hands.

A hollow ache filled her, longing for her stargazer and for Matt. They completed her world. Nothing she could imagine in her stories could equal the real thing.

They waded the west fork of Cow Creek and entered the mouth of Sweden Hollow. It was a pretty place during summer, lush and green and abundant with wildlife. Not far ahead was an old soldier’s watering hole that had been used for centuries. Maybe they’d stop there for a drink. Her mouth was so dry.

Yet dry mouth or not, she wouldn’t find a better moment to escape. Succeed or fail, this was it. With a lightning move, she spurred her horse. Whipping around, she took off down the trail they’d come from. She rode for all she was worth across the rocky ground, praying her horse kept his feet and didn’t plunge into a ravine.

Her heart pounded with the need to be free and safe. She rode as one with the pretty gelding, grateful the animal was young and spry. They leaped over bushes together, jumped dead tree branches, and wove through a grove of live oak.

Then she heard hooves striking the ground behind her.

Oh God, he was coming. She shook the reins, urging her gelding faster, but it was no use. Gentry came alongside and grabbed her horse’s bridle. A mighty jerk made the gelding rear. Marley spilled from the saddle and hit the ground hard. Her teeth bit into her lip with the jarring fall. She saw stars and tasted blood on her tongue. It felt as though she’d broken every bone in her back. She lay there gasping, desperately trying to get her lungs to fill with air.

Gentry dismounted and stood over her, pressing a gun to her head. “Try that again and I’ll shoot you in the damn knees. Now get on your horse and be quick about it.”

She obeyed with sinking despair, thick waves of misery washing over her. The scariest man that ever walked the face of the earth had her, and every step was taking her farther from her family and the man she loved.

Her wedding seemed desperately out of reach, and the beautiful dress her mama had given her hung in the closet, waiting. Unless a miracle happened, she’d never get to wear it.

The near freezing temperature and the pain from her fall made every bone ache. She pulled her coat tighter around her. The moist air had an extra bite to it. Overhead, clouds drifted over the moonless night. On they rode, another mile, then two. Surely they’d stop soon.

They passed an area of thick, tangled brush. Maybe…

Before she lost her nerve, she readied for another bone-jarring landing and leaped from the saddle. Shooting pain tore through her chest and legs upon impact. Ignoring the screams coming from bone and muscle, she burrowed deep under the thorny branches, down to the moist earth. Silent prayers formed in her mind as she lay still.

“Now look what the hell you did!” Gentry dismounted and scoured through the vegetation. Even in the winter, the grasses, juniper, and live oak never died off, so for the moment, at least. she had plenty of cover.

When he didn’t find her, he grabbed a long stick and began whipping the tangle with sweeping strokes. Her heart hammered with fear.

“Come on out, you good-for-nothing woman. You can’t get away from me. Thought you’d learned that by now. If I didn’t already have you as good as sold, I’d snap your neck like a baby twig and be done with it. Better ones than you tried to escape, and they’re all dead—every stinking one. Even your worthless mama. Maria thought she could get away, but my bullet was faster.”

Marley scooted deeper into the cover. Even if he found her, she needed to buy Roan and her father as much time as possible to get there. She had to believe they were on the chase.

“I ain’t messing with you, girlie. Get out here!”

The horses stood motionless in the night. She felt along the ground for a rock. If she could draw his attention away from the plants, she stood a chance of getting away. Slowly, she patted the area around her and was about to give up in defeat when her fingers brushed a small, rough stone. She clutched it and waited.

The noise of some small animal made Gentry whirl. Marley took advantage and launched the rock over by the horses.

The man growled and hurried over to them. “You trying to steal a horse, girlie?” he snarled.

Marley crawled on her belly deeper into the brush, grateful for the dark shield around her. If she could reach a ravine or some other place to hide, she might make it. She noticed the shadow of a rocky hill rising up ahead.

Her heart pounded, and she barely breathed.

Just a few more yards.

Only when she got there, she encountered a rock wall. And Gentry was wading into the brush behind her.

Trapped! Unsure what to do, she changed directions and began crawling west.

A fist reached down and closed around her hair.

Gentry yanked her up, backhanding her across the mouth. “You can’t hide from an old slave hunter. I know every damn trick in the book.”

“I’d rather be dead than with you.” Marley licked at the blood, the taste of iron on her lips.

“Ain’t gonna kill you. You’re going to make me a lot of money. But I am going to make you pay for the time I’ve lost hunting for you.”

“I’m glad Duel took me away from you all those years ago. It was the best thing he ever did. He’s my father, not you.”

“Like it or not, you have my blood in you.” He pulled a knife from his boot and grabbed her. “I told you what would happen if you tried to escape again, only a bullet makes too much noise. This is better.”

Marley swallowed past the lump in her throat and flailed her arms, aiming at his face. “I’m not going another step farther with you, so do whatever it is you have planned. This is it. Right here. Do it,” she hissed. “Get it over with.”

Though she twisted and squirmed and kicked, he stuffed a grimy bandana into her mouth, shoved her to the ground, and sat on her. Weighted down, she couldn’t move, couldn’t fight, couldn’t escape.

“Now, where would you like me to start?” He clamped a hand around the index finger on her left hand. “I reckon this one will do. Maybe next time you’ll heed my words.”

Marley tried to scream, the sound muffled by the filthy rag.

“Go ahead, girl.” Gentry chuckled, the knife blade held above her. “Not a soul can hear you.”

Blood coated her tongue and trickled down her throat. But the gag wasn’t in as securely as he’d thought. She worked to spit it out.

“Let the mighty Duel McClain and Roan Penny come. I’ll blow ’em to smithereens.”

His mouth went slack, his breathing harsh. Oh God. Now she understood. Hurting his victims excited him.

Gentry held her finger close to her face, past hearing anything she might say. “Look at it. Last chance you have.”

Then he lowered her hand to the ground and positioned the digit on a rock. Even if her mouth had been free, Marley would not beg this man. Not for anything!

* * *

Chills scrambled up Roan’s spine like frantic animals trying to avoid capture. The sudden, piercing scream had to come from Marley, an echoing cry for help.

Sound carried a long way in open country, but he felt in his bones they were close. Sweden Hollow was littered with dugouts and hiding places where a man could hole up and searchers would pass by, never seeing him. Each movement now came with extra caution. Marley’s life depended on their silence.

A nighthawk’s wings swished overhead as the bird dipped low, and Roan felt the eyes of night creatures staring. Waiting. Watching. Ever vigilant in the moonless landscape.

“Let’s leave the horses,” Duel whispered.

Tying the animals to some juniper, they stole forward. Each step Roan took was carefully made by putting down his toes, rolling on the ball of his foot, then resting his weight on his heel. Paying no heed to the sharp rocks that poked his thin boot soles, he repeated the process many times over.

Slow. Easy. Silent, ever mindful of Marley’s need for rescue.

He could smell Will Gentry’s stench.

When he and Duel reached some rock slabs, they climbed up, hoping to spy Gentry. For once, Roan was grateful for the dark moon in hiding and the clouds. Yet his heart sank as he noticed the first threads of dawn in the distance.

He reached for his Colt and peered over the edge of the rock slab, Duel beside him.

Down below in a little draw, Roan could barely make out two horses. Not far away was one figure—that of a man, a dark mass on the ground beneath him.

Then the dark blob the man sat on moved. Marley! What was the bastard doing?

“Hold still, or you’ll lose more than a finger!” Gentry hollered, a knife blade flashing.

The realization of what Gentry intended to do made Roan’s blood run cold. They had to get closer and fast. But the only way to her was through the draw. The parallel ridges on each side prevented their going straight down.

He met the worry, anger, and frustration in Duel’s gaze. “Do you have a shot?”

“No. We’ve got to hurry, Roan.”

Roan crawled from the rocky slab and took the reins of his mare. Dammit, why couldn’t they be near enough to take a shot? His ragged breath stung his throat and lungs, and his heart beat so fast and hard his chest seemed ready to crack open.

Marley must be terrified, and he couldn’t do one blessed thing to ease it. If he failed to reach her in time…

A shudder ran through him. He couldn’t bear to think of it.

He couldn’t fail.

* * *

Gentry froze, cocking his head to listen. “Someone’s out there.” A gruesome smile spread across his face.

He planned on killing whoever it was. He stuffed the gag back into Marley’s mouth. She released a muffled cry. It could be Roan and her papa. She had to warn them.

He rose and yanked her up by a fistful of hair. He put his mouth next to her ear, and she gagged on his vile breath. “Have to set a trap and take care of ’em, then you and me’ll get back to business.”

A cruel twist of her arms behind her sent pain shooting through her. He bound her hands and feet, then checked to make sure the gag was still in place. “This’ll hold you ’til I get back.”

With the dawn’s light rising around her, she watched him disappear into the heavy brush. She strained, fighting against the ropes, but couldn’t loosen them. Tears ran down her cheeks. This time he’d stuffed the gag so far back it was at her throat. She couldn’t make one sound. Her rescuers wouldn’t know Gentry lay in wait.

They would walk right into the man’s snare.

Stiff and cold, Marley hunched quietly, unable to free herself or yell any kind of warning. The minutes stretched on in silence, except for the faint sounds of scurrying animals. She was grateful for the interruption, or she’d be minus a finger right now. She closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle. Just let Roan and Duel sense the bullets that awaited them and take measures to avoid the trap.

If Will Gentry succeeded, her life was over. Everything was over.

Please let Roan see him. Sister Frieda had taught him how to read the land. Let him now.

Her heartbeat was loud in her ears as time crept by.

One minute.

Then two.

When the shots rent the breeze, she jerked and sagged weakly against her ropes. Please, please, let Gentry be the target and not Roan.

The next moment dashed those prayers. Gentry strode through the early dawn toward her. That could only mean one thing. Hope drained, leaving her limp.

Nothing mattered now.