In a way, Venom had done him a favor. For some time now Logan had considered either taking over the company or going off and starting one of his own. He was tired of the looks he got from the others when he indulged in females, tired of them always carping about what he did. They had no room to talk, the hypocrites. They carved up women and girls to add to their scalp bag. All he did differently was enjoy the ladies before he scalped them.
Logan got hooked when he was young. An aunt started him down the path. She’d liked it rough, really rough, and given him a taste that grew rougher as time went by. Now when he was done with a woman, she looked as if she’d been through a war. Most were barely alive.
He couldn’t get enough. It gave him a thrill like no other. A thrill so potent, he couldn’t go without. When he wasn’t with a woman, he daydreamed about being with them, and at night he drifted in dreams of explicit fantasy.
Unfortunately, the law hanged people for what he did.
So Logan had gone off to the frontier where tin badges were scarce and he could do pretty much as he pleased. The frontier, where Indians were usually blamed for whites who went missing and whites were blamed for Indians who went missing.
At first it had been heaven on earth. He’d waylaid women and had his way and no one was ever the wiser. But his habit didn’t put food in his belly or clothes on his back. He needed spending money.
Logan happened to be in San Antonio one hot afternoon when Venom and his scalp hunters rode in to claim the bounty on some Comanche scalps. Logan approached Venom about working for him and was pleased as could be when the veteran took him on. His pleasure was short-lived. The third time out, they slaughtered a family of peaceable Pimas. Logan got hold of a girl about fourteen and before he could stop himself had done the sort of things that always sent a tingle of delight down his spine.
That had led to this, to being betrayed and shot down like some animal. The more Logan thought about it, the madder he got. He would keep going until he got hold of a horse and then he would find Venom and his so-called friends and do to them as they had done to him.
Along the way Logan intended to treat himself. He needed a female, needed a female bad. Specifically, the white girl Rubicon told them about. The young one, the pretty one. He would do to her as he had done to all those others.
Logan couldn’t wait.
Evelyn warned the black man not to move or she would shoot him. She assumed the threat would turn him to stone. Instead, as she rose from concealment on the crest of the gully with her Hawken centered on his chest, he did the last thing she expected.
The black turned and smiled, his arms out from his sides. “We meet again, young one,” he cheerfully greeted her.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Evelyn demanded. “I’ll shoot you if you don’t do exactly as I say.”
“Shot a lot of people, have you? Somehow, I don’t think so. I doubt you’ve ever shot anybody.” He confidently added, “It’s never easy the first time. Some people can’t do it. They don’t have it in them.”
“I do,” Evelyn assured him. With a bob of her chin at the opposite side of the gully, she said, “So does he.”
Plenty Elk had an arrow nocked to his bowstring and the string drawn back to his cheek.
“Don’t do anything hasty,” the black man said. “See? I’m putting my rifle down. Now I’m taking a pistol and laying it down, too.”
“I told you not to move, scalp hunter.” Evelyn held the Hawken straight and steady, ready to shoot. He was right, though. She wasn’t like her brother. She wasn’t a killer. She wouldn’t shoot unless he forced her, and even then she would shoot reluctantly.
The black raised his hands in the air. “Suit yourself, girl. You caught me fair and square. But what was that about scalps?”
“Play innocent, why don’t you?”
“Why, girl, I’m as innocent as a newborn babe.”
Evelyn sidled down the slope. She told him to get on his knees. He hesitated, glanced at Plenty Elk, and did as she bid him. With Plenty Elk covering her, Evelyn reached around from behind and snatched the second pistol, then stepped back. “There now. We need to talk. First off, what’s your name?”
“Rubicon.”
“That’s a strange name. What does it mean?”
Rubicon shrugged. “My pa said it had something to do with a river somewhere. That’s all I know.”
“Plenty Elk, here, has told me about you and your friends. How far back are they? What are their plans? Were you to signal them when you caught up with us?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Rubicon said good-naturedly.
“I expect a lot of answers.” It had been Evelyn’s idea to take him alive. Plenty Elk had been disappointed, but she convinced him the black might have information they could use.
Rubicon chuckled. “Listen to yourself. You’re a girl playing at being tough. If you had any sense you would get on your horse and ride like hell while you still can.”
“Big talk, but we caught you, not the other way around.”
“It’s not me you have to worry about, girl. It’s the man I ride for. He’ll be awful mad at you for jumping me and he’s not nice when he’s mad. Fact is, he’s the meanest cuss on the whole damn planet.”
“I’m a King, mister.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
“It means I might be a girl, but I’m not helpless. It means I never give up. It means I don’t desert my friends. It means I’ll do whatever I have to in order to stop you.”
“For a fool you sure are pretty.”
“On your feet. Keep your hands where I can see them and head up this gully.” Evelyn snagged the reins to his horse and brought it along.
Rubicon chuckled. “Get on my knees. Get on my feet. I wish you’d make up your mind.”
“You’re in awful good spirits for someone in your predicament.”
“It’s not me who has the predicament, girl. It’s you. I don’t know what you think you’re doing by taking me this way. It won’t do you any good. It won’t do you any good at all.”
“Why do you ride with the man you told me about? You don’t strike me as being bad.”
Rubicon glanced over his shoulder at her. “There you go again. Missy, you can’t judge other folks by how you think. It’s how they think that counts. You better let me go or the first chance I get, I’ll beat you to the ground and I won’t bat an eye doing it.”
“Get moving.” Evelyn saw Plenty Elk give her a quizzical look. She motioned for him to come down and he was quick to fall into step beside her. Not once did he lower his bow.
“Yes, sir,” Rubicon rambled on. “You’re in a fine pickle. You won’t take my advice and light a shuck. What to do? What to do?”
“You like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?”
Rubicon was talking to distract her, and to test how much she would let him get away with. He was trying to dupe her into letting down her guard so he could jump her. Otherwise, he was in for grief when Venom caught up. Venom didn’t like it when his men were taken captive. The last man that happened to, a gent by the name of Williams, was staked out in the burning sun by the Comanches. Venom refused to cut him free, saying that anyone so damn careless had it coming to them.
Evelyn was glad her captive had gone quiet. All his chatter was making it hard for her to think, and she had a lot to work out. She could tell that Plenty Elk was puzzled that she hadn’t killed the man outright, and to be honest, the smart thing was to shoot him dead. She’d had the perfect opportunity back there and couldn’t do it. It worried her. By civilized standards she’d done the right thing. Only this wasn’t civilization. This was the wilderness. The laws and rules that people stuck to east of the Mississippi River did not apply west of it. Out here it was be strong and live or be weak and die.