“I only did it ‘cause you wanted her. I could’ve taken care of her back on the road. Hell, I could’ve taken care of her the night we torched her shed, but you said you didn’t want her hurt none.”
Carlson tightened his grip as Sarah clawed at his arm. Her vision grayed from lack of air. As if from a distance, she heard the voices, one mixing into the other.
“How long?”
“Ten minutes, no more… Kill her now.”
“Not here, you idiot… Hold them off… In the hills.”
Sarah’s last thought before she lost consciousness was that Jake was coming, but too late.
“You listen to me.” Barker stopped the men on the rise above the Carlson ranch. But it was Jake he was looking at. “I know you’d like to ride in there hellbent, but you take a minute to think. If they’ve got her, we’ve got to go slow.”
“They’ve got her.” In his mind, the Carlson brothers were already dead.
“Then let’s make sure we get her back in one piece.
Will, I want you to break off, ease on over to the Barn.
John, I’d be obliged if you’d circle around the back. I don’t want any shooting until it’s necessary.” With a nod, he spurred his horse.
Jim watched them coming and wiped the sweat off his brow. His men were all out on the range. Not that they’d have been any good, he thought. The only one who’d have backed them against the sheriff was Doney. And he was dead. Wetting his lips, he levered the rifle in the window.
He had to wait until they got close. That was what Sam had told him. Wait until they got close. Then he was to kill as many as he could. Starting with Redman.
Sweat dripped down into his eyes. His fingers twitched.
Sam had sent Donley to kill Redman, Jim remembered. But it was Donley who’d been buried. Now he was going to do it. He wet his lips when he caught Jake in the sight. He was going to do it right. But nerves had his finger jerking on the trigger.
Jake felt the bullet whiz past his cheek. Like lightning, he kicked one foot free of the stirrup to slide halfway down the side of his horse. Gun drawn, he rode toward the house while Barker shouted orders.
He could hear the men scrambling for cover and returning fire, but his mind was on one thing and one thing alone.
Getting inside to Sarah.
Outside the doors, he leaped off. When he kicked them open, his second gun was drawn. The hall and the foyer were empty. He could hear the shouts of men and peppering gunfire. With a quick glance for any sign of her, he started up the stairs.
Jim Carlson’s back was to him when he broke open the door.
“Where is she?” Jake didn’t flinch when a bullet from outside plowed into the wall beside him.
From his crouched position, Jim turned slowly.
“Sam’s got her.” With a grin, he swung his rifle up.
For months he’d wanted another chance to kill Jake Redman. Now he took it.
He was still grinning as he fell forward. Jake slid his smoking guns back in their holsters. Moving quickly, he began to search the house.
Barker met him on the steps. “She ain’t here. I found this on the floor.” In his hand he held Sarah’s miniature.
Jake’s eyes flicked up to Barker’s. They held there only seconds, but Barker knew he would never forget the look in them. Later he would tell his wife it was the look of a man whose soul had gotten loose.
Turning on his heel, Jake headed outside, with Barker close behind.
“Oh, God.” For the first time since Jake had known him, Barker moved with speed. Pushing past Jake, he raced to where two of his men were carrying Will Metcalf.
“He isn’t dead.” John Cody laid Will down and held his head. “But we have to get him back to town, to the doc.”
Barker crouched down as Will’s eyes fluttered open.
“You’re going to be all right, son.”
“Took me by surprise,” Will managed, struggling not to gasp at the pain as Cody pressed a pad to the hole in his shoulder. “Was Sam Carlson, Sheriff. He had her-I saw he had her on the horse. Think they headed west.”
“Good job, Will.” Barker used his own bandanna to wipe the sweat off his deputy’s brow. “One of you men hitch up a wagon, get some blankets. You get this boy to the doctor, John. Redman and I’ll go after Carlson.”
But when he stood, all he saw of Jake was the dust his mustang kicked up as he galloped west.
Sarah came to slowly, nausea rising in her throat. Moaning, she choked it back and tried to lift a hand to her spinning head. Both wrists were bound tight to the saddle horn.
For a. moment she thought she was still with Jim.
Then she remembered.
The horse was climbing, picking its way up through dusty, dung-colored rock. She watched loose dirt and stones dislodged by the horse’s hooves fall down a dizzying ravine. The man behind her was breathing hard. Fighting for calm, she tried to mark the trail they were taking and remember it. When she escaped-and she would-she didn’t intend to wander helplessly through the rocks.
He stopped the horse near the edge of a canyon.
She could see the thin silver line of a river far below. An eagle called as he swooped into the wide opening, then returned to a nest built in the high rock wall. “Samuel, please-” She cried out when he pulled the rope from around her wrists and dragged her roughly to the ground. One look warned her that the calm, sane words she had meant to use would never reach him.
There was a bright, glazed light in his eyes. His face was pale and drenched with sweat. His hair was dark with it. She watched his eyes dart here and there, as if he expected something to leap out from behind a huddle of rock.
The man who had swept off his hat and kissed her fingers wasn’t here with her now. If he had ever been part of Samuel Carlson, he had vanished. The man who stood over her was mad, and as savage as any beast that lived in the hills.
“What are you going to do?”
“He’s coming.” Still breathing rapidly, Carlson swiped a hand over his mouth. “I saw him behind us. When he comes for you, I’ll be ready.” He reached down to drag her to her feet.
“I’m going to kill him, Sarah. Kill him like a dog.” He pulled out his gun and rubbed the barrel against her cheek, gently, like a caress. “You’re going to watch. I want you to watch me kill him. Then you’ll understand. It’s important that you understand. A man like that deserves to die by a gun. He’s nothing, less than nothing. A crude gunslinger with Indian blood. He put his hands on you.” A whimper escaped her as he dragged a hand through her hair. “I’m going to kill him for you, Sarah. Then we’re going away, you and I.”
“No.” She wrenched free. The canyon was at her back when she faced him. If she had stumbled another step she would have fallen back into nothing. There was fear. The taste of it was bitter in her throat. But it wasn’t for herself. Jake would come, she knew, and someone would die. “I won’t go anywhere with you. It’s over, Samuel. You must see that. They know what you’ve done, and they’ll hunt you down.”
“A potbellied sheriff?” He laughed and, before she could evade him, closed his hand over her arm. “Not likely. This is a big country, Sarah. They won’t find us.”
“I won’t go with you.” The pain when he squeezed her arm nearly buckled her knees. “I’ll get away.” “If I must, I’ll keep you locked up, the way my mother was locked up. For your own good.”
She heard the horse even as he did and screamed out a warning. “No, Jake, he’ll kill you!” Then she screamed again, this time in pain, as Carlson bent her arm behind her back. Calmly he put the gun to her temple.
“It’s her I’ll kill, Redman. Come out slow and keep your hands where I can see them, or the first bullet goes in her brain.” He twisted her arm ruthlessly because he wanted Jake to hear her cry out again. He wanted Jake to hear the pain. “Now, Redman, or I’ll kill her and toss her body over the edge.”