Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) (33 page)

“Well, I’ll be,” Josh heard himself say.

But if Michaels was this close, it could mean only one thing. He aimed to find his pretty captive and finish what he’d started months ago.

“Well, we’d best be headin’ out,” Gus said. The big man heaved himself up into the saddle with a great grunt, and the others followed suit. “Somebody give this feller one of them wanted posters.”

Shorty handed a folded-up placard down to Josh, who took it with a grateful nod.

“Maybe you can show that around among your hired hands and see if any of your neighbors recognize that skunk.”

“If nothing else,” Josh said, tucking the poster into his shirt pocket, “it’ll let ’em know who to look out for.”

Shorty took a moment to roll a cigarette. Lighting it, he said, “You want my advice? If you see that low-down, murderin’ thief, shoot first and ask questions later.”

“For your sake,” Stretch said, “let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“We’ll follow the Rio Grande north for a spell, in case you have cause to send for us.” Pointing skyward, Gus signaled his men forward.

Josh went back to work on the rail, thinking that, once he finished up the job, he’d ride back to the house to find Dinah and deliver the good news. If he’d guessed right—and he believed he had—and she was Kate Wellington, the news about the bank teller’s story might just be enough to change her mind about going to Mexico. It was a thread of hope to hold on to in the midst of his despair at losing Mee-Maw.

“Thank You, Lord,” he whispered as hammer hit nail.

He prayed that it was a strong thread, because Shorty’s parting words made him feel a bit like a fly tangled up in a web, just waiting for the spider’s appetite to lure it out of hiding.

The music of the first dinner bell roused Josh from his gloom. Lucinda would ring it again in a few minutes to signal that the meal was on the table. The in-between time gave everyone ample time to come in and clean up, for they’d all learned what would happen if Lucinda saw grimy hands at her table.

Hopefully, after unsaddling Callie, he’d have time to pull Dinah aside and deliver the good news. Here it was, just the middle of August, yet that old anticipation he’d felt as a boy every Christmas Eve bubbled in his mind.

He’d just poured a scoop of oats into Callie’s manger when he heard a familiar voice say, “I was hoping I’d find you here.”

Dinah stood in the stall’s opening, hands clasped behind her back as the wind, blowing in through the open door, riffled her hair. Not half as much as I was hoping to see you, he thought.

She was wearing that yellow dress he liked so much, and the possibility that she’d chosen it just for him made him smile. “Come to warn me that the first bell has rung, have you?”

“No. But I do have something to tell you.”

He’d come to love the music of her voice, and its absence hit him hard. Shoving the scoop back into the sack of oats, he faced her. With any luck, her ragged tone was nothing more than a signal that she was missing Esther. Because, if she’d come to say good-bye…. Josh couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she said, “Your grandmother gave me her Bible.”

That should have pleased her, so why the long face? “Doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “How many times did she say you needed one of your own?”

Dinah nodded. “I read what you wrote on the back page.”

He breathed a sigh of relief because she was finally smiling. He smiled, too, as he remembered his grandmother’s reaction to his childish scribblings. “Did she tell you the story behind that inscription?”

“No.”

“Happened one Sunday when I was about eight,” he began, leaning his forearms on the stall gate. “I’d left my Bible home. Again. And she scolded me all the way back from church, saying how the Good Book was God’s gift to me, and I ought to be more mindful, and such.” The picture of Esther, turned sideways on the buckboard so she could shake a finger at him in the backseat, made him chuckle. “So, after dinner, I sneaked up to her room, found her Bible, and wrote down the truth as I saw it back then.”

“I love the Word, but you are God’s gift to me,” Dinah recited.

If she hadn’t looked so sad and scared, he might have kissed her for putting the emphasis on “you.” “I was just old enough to have figured out the special bond between us that grew stronger every time she baked my favorite cookies when Pa handed down a punishment, or when she wrote sweet notes and tucked them into my lunch bucket. Powerful stuff,” he acknowledged, “and almost as healing as God’s Word.”

Oh, to get inside her head and read the thought that painted the I’m-in-no-mood-for-nonsense expression on Dinah’s face! Did it mean she hadn’t come here for idle chitchat, or that, in her opinion, God’s Word wasn’t powerful and healing? He’d never been overly fond of useless conversation, himself, so he said, “You came to tell me something?”

With her eyes closed, she tilted her face toward the ceiling and inhaled a great gulp of air. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“Oh?” Had she decided, finally, that he could be trusted with the truth? A man can hope.

“My real name is Kate Wellington.”

She proceeded to tell him an unabridged version of the Rangers’ story, and, when she finished, she held out her hands, palms up. “So, now you know why I have to go to Mexico. The sooner, the better.”

There was so much he wanted to tell her, starting with the fact that the Rangers believed they were close to capturing Frank Michaels. That she’d been exonerated of any crimes. That he loved her more than life itself. But he couldn’t get a word in edgewise, what with her babbling about how she owed him for clothes and a hat and a horse, and how she’d repay him once she got herself a job singing in some Mexican cantina. He wanted to tell her that none of that mattered now but couldn’t figure out whether to say “Dinah, hush!” or “Kate, be quiet!”

“I have something to tell you, too,” he said when she finally paused.

When he took her in his arms, she stiffened at his touch. That was to be expected under the circumstances, he supposed, but it cut him to the quick all the same.

“I was out repairing the fence along the old post road just now.”

Dinah tucked a loose curl behind her ear, then fiddled with the black, velvet bow at the collar of her dress. She absently traced the outline of the top button on his shirt. “That’s what Lucinda said when I asked if she’d seen you.”

Josh gently grasped her wrist with one hand and lifted her chin with the other. Tears shimmered in her eyes when she blinked up at him. He hadn’t expected that—what was there to cry about, now that the truth had been told? Gathering her close, Josh pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It doesn’t matter,” he assured her. “You’re just going to have to face facts.”

“What facts?”

“That you’re just not cut out for a life of crime.” Chuckling, he kissed her cheek. “I mean, if you can’t even pull off a phony name.”

When she attempted to step back, her palm brushed his shirt pocket. “What’s this?” she asked, pulling out the folded poster.

He didn’t see the point in telling her, when the information was there for her to read in black and white.

“Where—where did you get this?”

Josh had never seen such white-hot fright on a face before, and it confirmed his belief that the outlaw had done far more than hold her as his hostage.

“Where?” she repeated, rattling the paper.

“The Rangers gave it to me.”

Dinah scanned the poster with a nervous look on her face before shifting her gaze past Josh, toward the door. And then, like a wounded dove, the wanted poster fluttered to the floor as Dinah whispered a hoarse and terrified, “Frank!”

40

I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Josh froze, but his fingers never loosed their hold on the handle of the pitchfork.

“I’ve heard stories about cowboys being dumber than a box of rocks,” Frank said, grinning, “but I never believed them until now.” An evil laugh erupted from his chest. “This one thinks he can stop three bullets—with a pitchfork.”

Amos said, “Maybe he’s lookin’ to die a hero.”

“Then he ain’t just dumb,” Tom put in, snickering. “He’s a dumb hero.”

Frank shot a look of disdain at the man to his left. “Every time you open your mouth, Tom, I’m reminded of your lack of intelligence. And since a man is judged by the company he keeps, I’ll thank you to shut up.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed with resentment, but he did as he was told.

“You two, tie him up and gag him. And make sure he can’t get loose.”

He let a moment pass, watching the three men struggle. Then, he grabbed Kate by the hair and jerked her close, securing her with an arm around her neck. “I rather thought that might get your attention,” he said when Josh froze. Pressing his gun barrel to Kate’s temple, he breathed into her ear, “What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

She had no idea what Frank might do with the information, but something told her that if she didn’t answer, Josh would pay the price.

He turned his attention back to Josh, whose eyes bulged with fury as Tom’s greasy hand pulled a cloth over his mouth and Amos pinned his arms behind him. “I have no quarrel with you or your family, Josh, but make no mistake: unless you cooperate, I’ll kill her, and I’ll make sure you see me do it.”

She met Josh’s gaze. “Do what he says,” she told him. “Please, do what he says.”

Frank’s threat and Kate’s plea had the intended reaction, and Josh allowed Tom and Amos to tie him up, using his own bandanna to gag him.

“Who’s up at the house?”

Kate’s fear was supplanted by rage, and when she tightened her fists at her sides, Frank tightened his hold, nearly strangling her. “Josh’s father and his uncles,” she choked out, “and their sons, and sons-in-law, and—”

“—and they’ll all come running when the first shot is fired, is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

She tried prying his grip loose, but it was no use. Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded weakly.

“And the boys and I? We’ll pick them off, one at a time.”

She’d spent enough time with this madman to know he wasn’t bluffing, and that those sorry excuses for men who rode with him would do anything he told them to. It was bad enough they’d come here because of her. Kate wouldn’t put the Nevilles in further danger by agitating Frank.

She glanced at Josh’s revolver, holstered and hanging from the hook in Callie’s stall. If she stomped on his instep, chances were good he’d release her. But, even if she managed to reach the sidearm before Frank or one of his cohorts got off a shot, did she have what it took to kill him?

“Don’t be a fool, Kate.”

She hadn’t thought it possible to hate him more, but she’d been wrong. Yes, she did have it in her to kill him. Now, the question was, how good was her aim?

“If your pretty little fingers so much as touch that gun,” he said, “I’ll kill him, and then I’ll let you watch as I kill off his precious family members, one by one.”

Kate didn’t much care what happened to her, but she wouldn’t risk Josh’s life, or the life of anyone else at the Lazy N. She had one chance to save them, and she took it.

“Leave them alone,” she said through clenched teeth, “and I’ll go with you.”

Frank eased his grip on her and turned her to face him. “Oh, make no mistake, you’re going with me.”

She pointed to the wanted poster. “A group of Texas Rangers gave that to Josh just this morning. They’re close, Frank, and while I have no doubt you could kill everyone on this ranch, the gunshots would put the Rangers right on your heels.”

“Close, you say? How close?”

“Five, ten miles, if that. And you know how far and fast the sounds of gunfire can travel over the flatlands, especially considering the wind is blowing in the same direction they’re headed. ”

Eyes narrowed, he gave her warning a moment’s thought. A slow smile spread across his face. “It seems Lady Luck is riding with me today, because I was planning to ride south. Thanks to your little tidbit, we’ll head north, instead.”

Kate stared hard at the floor. She couldn’t risk even the briefest glance at Josh, for fear Frank would see it and understand that she’d deliberately misled him. He told Tom and Amos to fetch the horses, and when they left the barn, he slid a hand behind Kate’s neck, grabbing a handful of hair. “I’m not going to have to tie you up, too, am I?”

“No.”

“You won’t leave me again?”

Something in his voice—an almost gentle softness she’d never heard before—strengthened her resolve. “If you leave them alone, I’ll go with you, willingly.” He pulled her closer, and if Tom hadn’t shown up when he did, Kate believed Frank might have kissed her.

“All set, Frank.”

“You want me to shoot him?” Amos wanted to know.

In the time it took him to blink, the warmth in Frank’s eyes died, replaced by icy contempt. “I swear, Amos, I can’t decide if you’re half crazy or just plain stupid. What have we just spent the last five minutes discussing?”

Amos scowled as Tom unsheathed his knife. “I could cut his throat. That wouldn’t make no noise.”

Kate gasped when she realized Frank was seriously considering the idea. “If you do, you’ll have to kill me, too,” she spoke up.