Cutter did not answer. He was looking up in trees, behind trees, behind him. A distinct click warned me he had thumbed his rifle’s hammer back.
My skin crawled. I was afraid if I twitched, he would blow the top of my head off.
Blue Water Woman was practically invisible. Her eyes and part of her face were all I could see and only because I knew where she was.
Jess Hook had goaded his mount to a gallop. He would not be a factor if we struck quickly. But Blue Water Woman did not shoot, not even when Cutter came abreast of us.
Inexplicably, Cutter stopped. I did not like how he was staring in my direction. I liked it even less when he shifted in the saddle and trained his rifle on me.
“You are a clever bastard. But that knife you are holding stands out clear as can be.”
I had completely forgotten about it.
“On your feet, fancy pants, or I will kill you where you lie.”
My legs did not want to cooperate, but I made it erect and stood with my arms at my sides. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Sure I do.” Cutter laughed. “It was you who beaned me with that rock, wasn’t it?” Without taking his eyes off me, he turned his head to display the discolored bump on his temple.
“I had to,” I said. “You are out to kill us.”
“Not then we weren’t,” Cutter said. “Jess and Jordy were hoping to take you and the squaw alive.” He paused. “Where is she, anyhow? Where did that red bitch get to?”
“Right behind you,” Blue Water Woman said. Her legs were visible under his horse on the other side.
Cutter stiffened and started to turn but reconsidered. A sly smile twisted his cruel mouth.
“I bet you have Jordy’s rifle pointed at me, don’t you?”
“You would win that bet,” Blue Water Woman said. “And in case you are wondering, yes, I can shoot you in the back and not lose sleep over it.”
I moved toward them, intending to disarm him. “Don’t shoot. We will take him prisoner.”
“No, Robert!” Blue Water Woman responded. “Stay back! This one is too dangerous.”
I should have listened. But by then I was only a few steps from his horse, and I reached up to relieve him of his rifle. To my credit, I stepped to one side so I was not in front of the muzzle.
Cutter came out of the saddle like a bolt of lightning. In reflex I thrust the knife at him, but he swatted my forearm aside even as he slammed into me. His shoulder caught me full in the sternum, and I was smashed onto my back. I thought my chest would burst.
Cutter had let go of his rifle as he sprang, and now, straddling me, he whipped a pistol from under his belt and jammed the deadly end against my neck.
I did not understand why Blue Water Woman had not fired. Then I saw her over his shoulder; she rushed up and pointed the rifle at the back of his head. Whether her intention was to shoot or take him prisoner as I had requested was rendered moot by the click of his pistol. He glanced at her, showing his teeth in vicious glee.
“Go ahead, squaw. You shoot me and I shoot him. All it will take is a twitch of my finger.”
Blue Water Woman hesitated.
“I thought so,” Cutter crowed. “Drop the rifle and step around in front of me.”
“Don’t do it!” I cried.
Cutter, frowning, gouged the pistol into my neck. “Not another peep out of you.”
I writhed in pain but dared not push at his arm for fear the pistol would go off.
Blue Water Woman was a study in indecision. My folly had placed us in a dreadful predicament. She could shoot him, but at the possible cost of my life. Our eyes met, and for a moment my pain was of no consequence. Then, reluctantly, she lowered her rifle, saying, “Very well. Do not kill him, and I will do as you say.”
I was heart struck. She was sacrificing herself for my sake. This gentle woman whose friendship I valued so highly would lose her life because of my stupidity. I couldn’t have that. I would not let her perish.
Cutter was looking at her, not at me. In his arrogance he had forgotten something; the knife I still held. He sneered at her, and I stabbed him in the belly.
I must say, the result was not what I expected. I thought he would collapse on top of me, dead, but I had no more luck stabbing him than Blue Water Woman did when she stabbed Jordy. Instead of collapsing, he roared like a wild beast and exploded into motion.
Cutter reared up off of me, hitting me with his pistol as he rose. Blue Water Woman tried to level her rifle, but he whirled and was on her in a bound. He swung the pistol and caught her above the ear. Down she went.
“No!” My head was spinning, but I heaved off the ground. “Get away from her, you slug!”
Cutter spun. He began to raise the pistol, then smiled and did the last thing I expected; he slid it under his belt. Not because he was giving up, but so he could draw one of his knives. He wagged it in a circle and said with relish, “I’m going to like doing you. You will die a hundred times before I am done.”
“A person can only die once,” I responded, struggling to clear my head. I was under no delusions. I was no match for him, none whatsoever.
As if the situation were not dire enough, hooves pounded and through the aspens came Jess Hook. He drew rein and aimed his rifle at me.
My time had come.
Chapter Eighteen
Life is a fickle mistress. She dispenses happiness and sadness with no regard for those under her sway. I had come to the Rockies for the sole purpose of expanding the horizons of human knowledge, yet my lofty goal counted for nothing when weighed in the balance by the scales of death. I was on the verge of being sent beyond the veil.
“No!” Cutter bellowed. “Don’t you dare!”
Jess Hook did not lower his rifle, but he did look at Cutter and say in annoyance, “I have as much right as you. They killed my brother.”
“She did!” Cutter said, pointing at Blue Water Woman’s unconscious form. “Do what you want with her, but I do fancy pants here.”
“Stop calling me that,” I said.
Cutter’s shirt was bloody, and scarlet drops were dripping over his belt and down his leg. “I mean it. Look at what he did to me. He’s mine, and that’s that.”
Jess Hook straightened. “All right. The squaw is mine and he’s yours. But we should take a look at you first. You’re bleeding bad.”
“I hardly feel it,” Cutter said. “We’ll look when I’m done with him and not before.”
And just like that, he sprang.
I was not prepared. My head was still fuzzy and I was staring at Blue Water Woman, not at him. As it was, I evaded his knife only because I instinctively threw myself backward, and in doing so, tripped over my own feet. His blade cleaved air inches from my throat.
I landed on my back and scrambled away from him using my elbows and heels. Cutter came after me, slicing at my legs. I rolled to the right and pushed to my knees.
Cold steel arced toward my chest. I countered, and my knife rang on his. It jarred my arm to the bone.
Cutter was incensed. He redoubled his efforts, thrusting and slashing. I reacted without thinking and managed to block or avoid his blows. Suddenly he drew back, breathing heavily, which enabled me to get to my feet.
“Let me shoot him!” Jess Hook offered.
“No!” Cutter had his other hand pressed to his gut. The dark stain had spread and the top of his pants were now crimson.
“We’ll tie him and you can kill him after I stitch you up!” Jess hollered.
“No,” Cutter said again, and came at me in a fury.
How I stayed alive I will never know. His blade glittered and streaked. I dodged and ducked and danced to one side or the other. Self-preservation is a powerful instinct, and I attribute the fact that I was unscathed when he stopped and stepped back to a force beyond myself.