Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) (34 page)

Frank chuckled and held up his free hand. “All right, you win.” And, with a gentlemanly bow, he said, “After you, m’lady.” He stopped in the doorway and faced Josh. “I have no doubt that you’ll work yourself loose in an hour or two, after which you’ll round up every man on the Lazy N. Let me assure you that following us would be a mistake.” He narrowed his eyes to add, “A deadly mistake.”

Kate walked purposefully toward the door and climbed onto the spare horse he’d brought. She glanced over her shoulder just long enough to read the helpless expression on Josh’s handsome face. When he didn’t show up for dinner, someone would come looking for him. They’d find him tied to the barn’s support beam and set him free. Hopefully, he wouldn’t do as Frank predicted, because she knew he’d set the Rangers on Frank’s trail. Please, she silently begged Josh, don’t ride with them!

Then, as quick as you please, she faced front again, her yellow gingham skirt flapping like a tattered sail as she, Frank, Tom, and Amos were swallowed up by a thick cloud of dust.

41

Josh rubbed the welts on his wrists the rope had made. “If I hadn’t taken my gun belt off like a blamed fool—”

“—you’d be dead, and so would Dinah,” Dan said.

“The boy’s right,” Matthew agreed, jamming a shell into his shotgun. “Wasn’t as if you could reason with a man like that.”

The image of her riding off with that bunch flashed in his mind. Wincing, Josh said, “She sacrificed herself for us. I’m going after her.”

“I had a notion you’d say that.” Micah squinted one eye and peered down the barrel of his Winchester. “Well, you’re not going anywhere without me.”

Paul spun the chamber of his Colt, then nodded. “Me, too,” he said, holstering it.

Josh’s uncles agreed, one by one.

“Who’s gonna fetch the Rangers?” Sam asked.

“You thought of it,” his father-in-law said. He held up a hand to avert the younger man’s objections. “Eva threatened to tan my hide if I let on, but this situation takes precedence over keeping Susan’s secret.” He aimed a finger at Sam. “Your duty is to your wife and young’uns.”

“Young’uns?” Dan echoed. “You mean—?”

Sam nodded, but it was clear by the uncertain look on his face that he was torn between happiness about the baby his wife carried and disappointment that he couldn’t ride with the rest of the Neville men. “I guess you’re right. Susan isn’t having as easy a time of this one as she did with Willie.”

Dan grinned. “Aw, don’t worry. She’s strong and healthy.”

“Sam, once you’ve told the Rangers where we’re headed, I want you to head straight home,” Josh said. Sam was the youngest, and the only man in the bunch who wasn’t blood kin, and his heart went out to him. “Somebody needs to hold down the fort,” he added, “in case Michaels and his bunch decide to double back. And I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Sam’s face brightened. “You can count on me,” he said, standing taller.

“Now, there’s just the matter of alerting the womenfolk.”

A chorus of moans and groans floated around the barn. “You’re the oldest, Matthew,” said his youngest brother, John. “Seems only fitting that dubious duty fall to you.”

He harrumphed. “As the oldest, I could insist that you do it, John.”

The men snickered and chuckled, and then Matthew said, “You boys saddle up while I let the women know what’s going on.”

Half an hour later, they rode two by two in somber silence, eyes on the horizon, their minds on the dangerous task ahead of them. A man as arrogant as Frank Michaels—who considered himself above the law and smarter than anyone—would probably have no qualms about lighting a fire. He and his men would alternate as lookouts, of course, but not even the most alert man could watch his front and his back. So, the plan was simple. The gang was outnumbered by five guns. They figured that this fact, combined with the element of surprise, should guarantee a successful raid on the outlaws’ camp.

It was just past midnight when Josh spied an orange glow due north on the horizon. The makeshift posse dismounted to discuss strategy. Luke and Mark reminded the others that they’d served with Hood’s Texas Brigade at Gaines’s Mill, and their bayonet charge had stopped the Federals from taking Richmond. The rest readily went along with their battle plan: Josh would go in on foot and report back on the precise position of each man—and Kate. And then they’d decide how and when to attack.

Josh tossed his Stetson aside and, ducking low, moved stealthily across the grassland, darting left, then right, until the outline of a man crouching over the fire came into view. He crawled on his belly from that point on, taking care to stay low to the ground so that he could watch, unnoticed, from the cover of the gall grass, which whispered in the wind. Clumps like this were favorite hiding places for quail, and he prayed he wouldn’t disturb a nest, for their frightened flapping and squawking would surely signal his presence and pinpoint his location.

Thankfully, the thicket he’d chosen housed no birds. He said a second prayer that it didn’t provide cover for any scorpions.

It appeared Frank and his gang had come well-equipped to enjoy the most rudimentary pleasures of camp life, right down to the iron Y-supports for the rod that held their coffeepot above the fire. When Josh was close enough to smell the biscuits they’d cooked up for supper, he slowly raised his head and scrutinized the scene.

Frank must have assigned Amos to the first watch, for it was his silhouette Josh had seen earlier. That was a bonus for the Nevilles, and not so good for the outlaws, because, of the three, Amos seemed the least clever. But Josh had been a rancher long enough to know that, sometimes, what a man lacked in intelligence, he more than made up for in other ways. Perhaps, in place of brains, Amos could hear better than most of his contemporaries.

Tom lay with his back to the fire, snoring softly. Frank, his face hidden by his hat, lay on his back with his fingers linked behind his head. And Kate sat, her shoulders hunched, wide awake and staring into the fire. As much as he would have liked to let her know help had arrived, Josh couldn’t risk calling attention to himself, because all three men still wore holsters and were within inches of palming their six-shooters.

As he made a slow turn in preparation to retreat and report back to the others, the grit and gravel beneath him crunched—a sound barely audible but enough to alert Amos. The man was on his feet in a whipstitch, his gun in hand, his thumb on the hammer. “What was that?” Josh heard him hiss.

Kate raised her head. Oh, what he’d give to comfort her! He’d no sooner finished thinking that when he saw Frank raise his head and thumb his hat higher on his forehead. “What’s got you caterwaulin’ like a woman?”

“Thought I heard somethin’ over yonder.” And Amos pointed to a spot dangerously close to Josh’s hiding place.

Propping himself up on one elbow, Frank squinted into the darkness.

Josh froze, held his breath, and prayed the moment would pass quickly. Prayed, too, that his uncle John, who’d probably seen the whole thing through his binoculars, hadn’t gone off half-cocked and got the others riled and ready to ride.

A jackrabbit chose that moment to jump from the brush beside him. It skittered along the edge of their camp as Amos took aim and fired a single, earsplitting shot. He missed it, but just barely, and set off a cacophony of coyote howls to the east. Josh glanced over his shoulder and prayed his battle-savvy uncles could keep their cool long enough to control the rest of them.

Tom, half asleep yet on his feet, turned round and round, muttering to himself, looking ready to shoot the next thing that moved. “Put that thing down,” Frank snarled, “before you hurt somebody.”

Then, Frank got on his feet and began to pace around the fire. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, hitting Amos hard with the back of his hand.

The slap echoed across the prairie as Amos touched his lip, then stared down at his bloody fingertips. “Land sakes,” he said. “You had no call to do that, Frank.”

But Frank stood toe-to-toe with the smaller man and jabbed a forefinger into his chest. “No call? No call? If the Rangers aren’t breathing down our throats in ten minutes….” Frank ran both hands through his hair. “I ought to shoot the lot of you and go to Costa Rica alone. I’ll live longer without your constant aggravation.”

And, like a nightmare, it began—the thunder of horses’ hooves, the distinctive snick of gun hammers clicking into place.

In the seconds that had passed since Frank’s idle threat, Josh had remembered Shorty’s advice: “Shoot first and ask questions later.” But what if, in the fracas, Kate was hit by a stray bullet? Why didn’t they wait for my signal?

In the next second, a quick glance was enough to tell Josh that his pa had assumed the lead position. Josh could faintly hear him holler, “Firstborn, first to fall!” as he led the charge.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he muttered, and, in one swift motion, Josh was on his feet. He had six rounds in the chamber, and he aimed to make every one count.

“Kate,” he bellowed, “get down! Behind the horses!”

In the second it took Josh to issue his order, Frank got behind her and, with one hand on her throat, fired a shot over her shoulder. Its blinding, orange glare sliced through the darkness and whistled past Josh’s left ear; an inch down and to the right, and he’d have been a goner, for sure.

Matthew and John drove their horses right into the center of the camp and brought them up short. “Guns on the ground!” John shouted.

“Do it, slow and easy!” Matthew ordered. “Make one wrong move, and we’ll cut you in half, one at a time.”

The rest of the Neville men rode up from the other side, their weapons at the ready, but Frank’s men barely noticed. Tom stared down the barrel of a Henry rifle while Amos gaped at a Ward and Sons over-under shotgun. The outlaws exchanged a worried glance, dropped their Colts, and slowly raised their hands.

Josh took advantage of the flurry to advance on Frank. “It’s over,” he growled. “You’re outgunned and outnumbered.”

Frank’s sly grin never reached his eyes. “Fortunately,” was his calm reply, “I’m not outwitted.” For the second time that day, he pressed the barrel of his pistol into Kate’s temple.

“You’re a coward,” Josh snarled, “to hide behind a woman’s skirts.”

Frank chuckled and put his lips close to Kate’s ear. “He thinks I care about his opinion of me.” He gave her a rough jerk. “Tell him, Kate, that the opinions of others have never mattered to me.”

“The opinions of others have never mattered to him,” she echoed obediently.

The tremor in her voice and the fear in her eyes stirred something in Josh, something primal and baleful, which made him forget he’d been raised by a God-fearing mother, who’d taught him to practice civility and good manners, who’d insisted that he live by the Golden Rule. The only rule Frank Michaels lived by was survival of the fittest. Knowing that, Josh snarled, “Turn her lose.”

“Do I detect an ‘or else’ implied in that sentence?”

By now, his cousins had bound and gagged Tom and Amos, and the remaining Neville men had formed a circle around Josh, Frank, and his prisoner.

Frank searched the men’s faces and nodded with resignation as he counted the weapons aimed at his heart. “Give us two horses and an hour’s head start. I’ll leave her along the trail.”

“Dead, no doubt.” Josh shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t trust me? I’m hurt.” Frank feigned a pout, then gave Kate another forceful tug, as if to remind them that if they fired, she’d die, too. In the ensuing silence, all eight gun barrels raised slightly, this time aiming at an invisible spot between Frank’s eyebrows. He worked his jaw back and forth, making a thin line of his lips. “All right, gentlemen, so you’ve made your point. Now, let me make mine: I have no desire to die on this godforsaken Texas prairie tonight. You have my word that I won’t kill her. Give me one horse and thirty minutes, and—”

“Don’t listen to him,” Kate said. “You have loved ones waiting for you back at the ranch. I couldn’t live with myself if every last one of you didn’t go home to them, safe and sound.”

“One bullet to the brain, and he’ll drop like a rock,” Dan said.

“Maybe,” Frank spat, “but I bought this piece because of its hair trigger. Shoot me, and we’ll both be dead before we hit the ground.”

For the second time in minutes, the sound of horses’ hooves thundered across the prairie, this time mingling with gunshots, which sparked into the dark sky like red and yellow fireworks. The fleeting disruption gave Josh just enough time to dart behind Frank and throw him off balance, and he lost his grip on Kate.

---

Kate ran to the edge of the campfire, where the outlaws had tethered their horses. The animals’ terrified trumpeting made eerie music as their hooves pounded the dust.

Then, a single blast cracked the night, followed by complete, utter silence.

An excruciating moment passed, and everyone seemed to notice at once the slowly spreading bloodstain an inch above the pocket flap of Josh’s shirt.

Josh!

His gun slid from his hand and hit the dirt with a quiet thump. With his arm hanging limp at his side, he crumpled slowly to the ground as the Rangers reached the outskirts of the camp, riding low in their saddles.