Carol Finch (17 page)

“Damn you, hellcat!” he snarled as he lunged at her.

He grabbed a fistful of her shirt then gave her a hard yank. When Savanna felt herself being dragged sideways she clamped her knees around the sidestepping horse and clutched the saddle horn. Her captor growled when the horse slammed him broadside, but he refused to let go. Horse, man and rider spun in half circles for a full minute while Savanna tried frantically to release the reins so she could race off.

Her captor slapped her horse on the rump, causing it to rear up. Savanna tried to hang on, but he snaked his arm around her neck and jerked her so hard that she lost her grip on the pommel. She lashed out, catching him upside the head, earning herself a raft of pithy curses.

All thoughts of escape scattered when sharp pain exploded in her skull. Pinpoints of silver light flashed in front of her eyes. Dazed, Savanna swerved clumsily. The blow that she presumed had come from the butt of the rifle left her disoriented and light-headed. Before she could recover, her captor hurled her sideways. She cartwheeled through the air then landed with a whoosh. She lay flat on her back, gasping to catch her breath and praying the pounding in her skull would let up so she could think straight.

“You’re a helluva lot of trouble, bitch.”

Savanna grunted uncomfortably when the rifle barrel stabbed her in the chest. She stared up at her captor’s looming silhouette. She tried to identify him as one of the vigilantes who rode for Draper, but she finally placed the man’s bulky physique and his vaguely familiar voice—although it was too dark to get a clear view of his face.

“George Miller,” she wheezed. “Alias Grady Mills. What an unpleasant surprise.”

He clamped his meaty fist in the front of her shirt and hoisted her to her feet. “That’s right, bitch. You’ve cost me more time than you’re worth.”

When he hooked his elbow around her neck, nearly cutting off her air supply, Savanna gulped for breath. She bit his arm and kicked him in the shins. The harder she kicked, the more pressure he applied to her windpipe.

Savanna was afraid she was going to pass out, but she fought to the bitter end. When she slumped helplessly in his arms, he dragged her to the shack. Before she could gather her wits, he slammed her against the corner post of the cabin and tied her up with the discarded ropes.

Still swearing ripely, Grady lit a lantern then set aside his rifle. He glared murderously at her while he inspected the bite marks on his arm.

“You’re a damn hellion.” He raked his fingers through his frizzy red hair and blew out a breath. After uprighting the chair, he took a seat. “If I didn’t need you as insurance, I’d get rid of you now. But the Hawk brothers won’t shoot at me, for fear of hitting you, so I’ve gotta keep you more alive than dead.
For now,
” he added threateningly.

“I wouldn’t mind getting shot once or twice if it guaranteed the Hawk brothers blew you out of the saddle and off the face of the earth,” Savanna retorted between seesaw breaths.

Grady smirked insolently. He straightened his shirt, which had twisted sideways during their scuffle. “Your friend Willow tried to defy me, too. But it didn’t work any better for her than it will for you.”

The comment made Savanna go perfectly still. Rage pulsated through her veins and her fists clenched, wishing she could go for this red-haired oaf’s throat and strangle the life out of him to avenge Willow’s senseless death.

Grady snickered when she tried to glare holes in his hide. “Waste of time, hellcat. I’m immune to murderous glowers.”

“You starved and abused Willow for the sport of it?” she demanded with a furious hiss.

“Hell, no. I wanted the same thing Oliver expected that drunken fool Roark to achieve by using his shallow charm.”

Savanna’s thoughts buzzed as she pieced together the facts. “You’re the one who shot Roark and pinned it on me?”

He nodded his fuzzy head. “Yup. Convinced Oliver that you did it, too. Buck Patterson and the rest of those dimwitted gunslingers were too liquored up that night to know any different. They accepted what I told ’em. They relayed the story to Oliver and passed the tale around town to make you look bad.”

“So you hired on with Draper and promised to solve all his problems and a few of your own while you were at it,” Savanna guessed accurately. “I’m sure it was hard on Oliver’s pride to learn that you had double-crossed, manipulated and beat him at his own game.”

“Yeah, he took it hard,” Grady replied. “He still doesn’t know that I tracked down Willow and held her captive, trying to get her to agree to marry me so I could have the same setup the Drapers were using to acquire Chickasaw tribal land.”

Savanna inwardly cringed, all too aware of what Willow endured at this heartless bastard’s hands. “Willow refused to cooperate so you planted me in the hotel room to cover up the second murder you committed,” she muttered bitterly.

He nodded unrepentantly. “I paid Gib Harper and Harvey Young to keep watch around your pa’s cabin. I knew you’d show up there eventually.” His expression turned sour. “That’s when I realized Fletch was in the area. I
knew I had to get rid of him or I’d never have any peace. He is the next thing on my list.”

Grady’s smug grin displayed the gap between his two front teeth. “The next thing on Oliver’s list was having your pa ousted from office. The old goat was obsessed with getting rid of your pa so he could take over as Indian agent. He planned to reap the fringe benefits from the position. So naturally, it was easy to convince him that
you
killed his nuisance of a son and also his new meal ticket, Willow.”

Savanna begrudgingly gave Grady high marks for creativity. His criminal mind had worked overtime to set himself up as competition for Oliver’s growing empire.

“You’re the one who sent that telegram to Hawk,” she realized suddenly—and said so. “You knew where to find him because you were in on the scheme with your cousin, Frank, five years ago in Texas.”

He bobbed his bushy head. “Damn right. Once I realized my ex-partner was on my trail again, I decided to get rid of both of ’em. I spent five long years with Fletch breathing down my neck, dogging my steps. I couldn’t set up anything long lasting in Texas without him bothering me. If I don’t get rid of both of ’em at once, Hawk will be out for my blood.”

Savanna knew Grady was right on that count. If something happened to Fletch, his older brother would avenge his death. “Your crucial mistake was killing Elaina,” she told him. “Fletch might have backed off if not for that.”

Grady shrugged a thick-bladed shoulder. “The lovesick fool dashed from the trees and threw herself in front of Fletch at the worst possible moment. If not for her, I wouldn’t have spent five years outrunning him. I could’ve used the money I confiscated in Colorado to set myself up for life. But here I am five years later, finally tying up loose ends.”

Savanna realized that Grady Mills had neither a conscience nor a heart. If he had a soul, it had to be as black as the devil’s. He’d dismissed Elaina’s life as if it was inconsequential, as if her selfless sacrifice was nothing but an inconvenience to him. Just as he’d viewed Willow as no more than a means to a profitable end. The bastard, she seethed.

The only life Grady valued was his own. He looked out for himself and no one had better get in his way—or else.

“So now what?” Savanna asked as she sagged tiredly against the rough post. This situation reminded her of the times Fletch had tethered her to trees so she wouldn’t escape.
This is getting old,
she mused sourly.

“So now we set a trap for the Hawk brothers.” He smiled cagily. “We’ll use you for bait, of course. Once they’re out of the way for good, I can trot off to the Creek Nation or Cherokee Nation with the loot I’ve been packing for five years. I’ll find myself an Indian wife and lay claim to some property.”

“You won’t get away with it,” she felt compelled to say, even though it sounded like an empty promise at the moment.

He chuckled nonchalantly. “Of course I will. The Texas Rangers will write me off as a lost cause eventually. Plus, this territory is too big for a handful of federal marshals to cover thoroughly. I’ll find a new home and live in comfort and style.”

Not if Savanna had anything to say about it! Her fierce sense of fair play and need for revenge refused to tolerate the idea of Grady Mills getting away with murder—literally.

Hawk and Fletch would find a way to stop him, she assured herself confidently. Even if she perished, justice would prevail. It
had
to. She didn’t want to die in vain.

“Don’t do too much thinkin’ over there, she-cat,” Grady taunted. “You’ll give yourself a headache. You gotta remember that I was trained by one of the best trackers and lawmen in the business.”

That was not good news, thought Savanna.

“I know how Fletcher Hawk thinks, how he reacts to certain situations. He ain’t gonna outsmart me when I’ve got so much at stake. His brother won’t fare any better, either.”

Grady surged to his feet and grinned cockily. “I’ll go fetch my buried loot and set my trap.” He frowned pensively as he stroked his stubbled chin. “When this is over, I’m leaning toward taking a Creek wife and settling down somewhere around Tulsey Town.”

“You’re better suited to take up residence in hell,” she said snidely. “The climate in Tulsey Town isn’t nearly hot enough for the likes of you.”

Grady’s grin turned upside down. He halted abruptly, as if trying to decide whether to backhand her for her catty remark or to let it ride. Savanna tilted her chin in defiance. She wouldn’t mind getting hit if it brought him close enough that she might be able to lash out with her foot and kick him in the crotch. To her disappointment, Grady thought better of approaching her. He settled for calling her several rude, disrespectful names before stalking out.

Savanna twisted her wrists against the restraining ropes, causing her hands to bleed again. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t get free. Since that was impossible, she was destined to sleep standing up. But until she finally nodded off, she planned to curse Grady Mills’s name and wish all the torments of the damned would befall him.

She also wished Fletch and his brother would magically appear to foil whatever fiendish plan Grady had cooked up.

Savanna tried to remain optimistic, but the bleak thought that this might be the end of the road for her kept buzzing through her brain. Damn it, where was Fletch when she needed him—again?

See what happens when you let yourself depend on someone else? Savanna mused as she laid her head against the post and felt exhaustion overtake her.

“D
amn it, Bill, where the hell is my daughter?” Robert Cantrell roared while he stood in the tribal chief’s office. His chest puffed up like a cobra as he glared at his friend. “She told me she was leaving the Territory and, come to find out, Mick arrested her.” Robert threw up his hands in exasperation and paced. “What was that man thinking? And what the devil have
you
been doing? I thought you came here to help me solve this case. Nothing is better. It’s getting worse!”

Bill Solomon braced a hip on the scarred desk and waited for Cantrell to finish ranting and raving to relieve his frustration. “I’ve been trying my damnedest to get Savanna off the hook, but things are complicated. You know I couldn’t just wave my arms and claim she was innocent of the charges. Only God has that kind of power and I ain’t God.”

Cantrell kerplopped in the chair and blew out his breath. “Sorry. I know procedures have to be followed, same as in the army and government policy with the Chickasaw. But hell! I returned from the Arbuckles, after burying a girl who’s been like a daughter to me, and found my cabin sur
rounded by sharpshooters. Then I’m told my daughter was jailed and somehow escaped. Now she’s been kidnapped. Isn’t there one competent man in this whole blasted territory who can find her and bring her back to me?”

“There are two and they’re working on it as we speak,” Bill insisted.

Robert scoffed sarcastically. “Right. The Hawk brothers. A couple of bungling clowns, if you ask me.”

Bill hitched his thumb toward the door that led to the jail cells. “Why don’cha take your frustration out on Draper while the Hawk boys do what they do best. Come to find out, Oliver had designs on your job and wanted his troublesome son to marry Willow so he could acquire more tribal land. Maybe if you chew on him for an hour or two you’ll feel better.”

Cantrell bolted to his feet. “That bastard wanted to use Willow like he used his two Chickasaw wives?” He howled in outrage.

Bill bobbed his head. “Yup. But somehow Grady Mills, the man Fletch has been tracking for five years got involved and twisted the situation to his advantage.”

“This Mills character has a personal vendetta against Fletch? And vice versa?” Robert’s face turned pasty-white. “Damnation, that makes my daughter a bargaining tool.”

Bill nodded bleakly. “’Fraid so, my friend. But I’m telling ya those Hawk brothers are exceptionally good trackers. Better than you and I were in our heyday. They’ll find Savvy.”

“They better find her before it’s too late,” Robert muttered as he wheeled toward the door to the cells.

“Oh, and there’s more, Rob,” Bill called after him. “You were right about Draper’s corrupt ranch practices. I found
several altered brands that indicate he was stealing from his neighbors’ herds and from cattle drovers who crossed his land on their way to Kansas shipping yards.”

“I figured as much,” Rob replied.

“Well, I bet you didn’t figure this. Turn’s out Oliver Draper’s real name is John Fletcher Logan.”

Cantrell pivoted to gape at his friend.

“He’s the Hawk brothers’ long lost pappy, who abandoned them years ago,” Bill reported. “Small world, huh? Or maybe it’s just typical behavior for a man who preyed on a tribe in Texas to reap benefits in his younger days and is still doing it here in Indian Territory now.”

Robert nodded in agreement before he sailed through the door to see Oliver Draper sprawled on the cot. His right hand was wrapped in bandages. The rancher didn’t look as arrogant and self-important as usual. Good. Robert thought he looked better behind bars than he did strutting down the streets of Tishomingo as if he owned the whole damn place.

“You have to appreciate the irony of landing in jail after trying so hard to get my daughter arrested,” Cantrell remarked as he propped himself against the wall across from the cell.

Oliver raised his gray head and Robert was momentarily stunned when he realized that he’d seen that same shade of blue eyes recently. No doubt, the Hawk brothers resented any family characteristic that connected them to a man who’d abandoned them the same way Glorianna had bailed on him and Savanna.

“I owe you an apology,” Oliver mumbled. “I was lied to. Manipulated. I honestly believed Savanna killed Roark and then went after Willow in a jealous rage. That’s what I was told. I had no reason to doubt my sources of information.”

Robert smirked. “Let that be a lesson to you. Even when you pay good money, you can’t always get the truth. They say there’s no honor among thieves and I guess it’s true.”

Oliver shrugged off the taunt and stared out the gaping hole of the cell beside his. “Did they find your daughter yet?”

Robert scowled. “No, your cohort is still on the loose.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Robert said after a begrudging moment. He wasn’t prepared to feel anything but dislike and disgust. Oliver Draper had more flaws than redeeming qualities and he was right where he belonged.

“How’s Parmicho?”

Again, dislike coiled in the pit of Robert’s belly. According to Solomon, Oliver had known Grady Mills intended to put the tribal chief out of commission when the lynch mob surrounded the jail. “A little late for your concern, isn’t it, Draper?”

“Yes, but considering that I’d been misled and lied to about Savanna’s involvement, I thought Parmicho was protecting a murderess. Hell, everybody knows the boy has adored your daughter since they were kids.” Oliver peered impatiently at Robert. “Is he okay or not?”

Robert nodded. “His left shoulder is torn up. Doc says it will be a while before he regains normal use of his arm, but he is recovering and recuperating at home.”

A long moment passed before Draper looked at Cantrell again. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“You’ll get an all-expense-paid trip to Paris, Texas, and a court date with the judge,” Robert speculated. “My friend, Bill Solomon, has documented evidence that you’ve used bribes and spread false information to further your cause.
From what I hear, you shouldn’t expect any visits from your surviving sons while you’re serving time.”

Oliver stared intently at Robert. “C’mon, Cantrell. You know I couldn’t have brought them back with me to white society while I was living in Saint Louis with my real family. Surely you understand that, since you took up with Morningstar and never married her. Hawk and Fletch are half-breeds. What would people have thought if I’d brought them into proper society?”

Robert straightened and spun on his heels, thoroughly disgusted with Oliver’s comments. “Maybe people would’ve thought you were the kind of man who accepted responsibility and took care of your own. Honest to God, Draper, you make me ashamed to be white. There are too many racist people like you in the world. And for your information, I would’ve married Morningstar years ago if I could have. As for you, you should’ve been shot for leaving your Apache sons to fend for themselves.”

On that parting remark, Cantrell closed the door behind him. He sent a prayer of thanks—that the Hawk brothers hadn’t had to grow up living with that self-absorbed bastard—winging heavenward. For sure and certain, Oliver Draper was a pathetic excuse for a human being… Like the snobbish clan that Robert had the misfortune of marrying into. If life were fair, Oliver and Glorianna Bennett would’ve been paired together in a marriage from hell.

The thought made Rob smile for the first time all day. Now, if the Hawk brothers could rescue Savanna, life would be even better.

Fletch stared into the dancing flames of the campfire. Impatiently he willed dawn to break so he could track
Grady more easily. He was a man accustomed to action. Inactivity was driving him crazy. Especially when he kept conjuring up the worst-case scenarios that could befall the woman he had come to care too much about.

“Better get some shut-eye,” Hawk suggested.

Fletch tossed aside the twig he’d been chewing on. “Could you, if Grady was holding
Shiloh
hostage?”

“No.” Hawk propped his head on his hand as he stretched out on a pallet. “I’m not sure I could sit still right now.”

“There you go.”

“But I’m in love with Shiloh,” Hawk remarked. “Completely. Wholeheartedly. She’s my life. She was five years ago, too, when Morton DeVol, Frank and Grady Mills abducted her… How about you, Fletch?”

He smiled at his big brother’s attempt to delve into his private feelings. “I’m not in love with Shiloh. But I like my sister-in-law a hell of a lot.”

Hawk pulled a face. “C’mon, Fletch. You know what I’m asking.”

“Sure I do. I’m just casting about for a polite way to tell you to mind your own damn business.”

Hawk chuckled. “Since when did you turn polite? Besides, I don’t recall you minding your own business while I was trying to sort out my feelings for Shiloh.”

Fletch sank back on his pallet and stared up at the dome of twinkling stars. He grinned, remembering how hard Hawk tried not to fall for that green-eyed hellion who was now his wife. “That was different. You were in fierce denial at the time. I had to guide you back to reality so you could face the truth.”

Hawk was silent for a moment then he said, “You know what we’re up against, don’t you? There’s no doubt in my mind that Grady must’ve sighted
you
and decided to lure
me
in with that anonymous telegram. He’s on the same kind of mission you are, Fletch. He figures that the only way he’ll be rid of us is to put us six feet under. Otherwise, we’ll continue to dog his footsteps until we lock him up or shoot him down.”

Fletch nodded grimly. “He’s the kind of man who will use Savanna as bait for his trap. That worries the hell out of me.”

“But since you worked with Grady in Colorado—”

“Not by choice,” Fletch interrupted in a resentful tone.

“All the same, you
know
him,” Hawk contended. “You know how he thinks. What would you do if you were Grady and you wanted to pick us off while you had Savanna as bait?”

“Hang her,” Fletch said bleakly. “Grady would consider that as the perfect irony for a woman who’s been chased by lynch mobs. I expect he plans to pick us off while we try to reach Savanna before she strangles.”

Hawk sighed heavily. “He’s a real bastard, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” Fletch glanced sideways at Hawk. “How did you feel that day when Shiloh’s brothers tried to lynch
you
by mistake?”

Hawk rolled to his feet to kick dirt on the small campfire. “I didn’t like it worth a damn. Remembering makes me restless. Let’s ride, Fletch. Grady has been leaving signs for us to follow all day. He wants us to catch up with him. Let’s just find him sooner that he expects. I’ll make some torches to shed some light on his tracks.”

Fletch surged to his feet to saddle the pinto. “Thanks, Hawk. I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep, but I knew you’d had a long train ride and probably needed the rest.”

“I’ll rest better when we catch up with Grady.”

“Same here. I don’t want to give that ruthless son of a bitch time to set the stage.”

To save time Fletch and Hawk split up to make sure Grady hadn’t set false trails to delay them. All the while Fletch told himself to focus on his mission, not on the perilous danger Savanna was in. If he didn’t keep his emotions under lock and key, he’d lose sight of his objective—to stop a criminal from committing another crime. He had to consider Savanna as one of the many victims he’d rescued through the years.

But she’s more than just another victim,
said that insistent voice in his head.

“This isn’t the time for that conversation,” Fletch muttered at himself. “All that matters is rescuing Savanna.”

He tried to convince himself that once Savanna was out of danger and Grady atoned for his crimes, he’d be satisfied. His debt would be paid to Elaina and his life would be his own again.

His unsettled thoughts trailed off when he sighted a rundown shack near a stand of cedar trees. Although there were no horses tethered nearby, it was possible that Grady had holed up there and stashed the horses in the distance.

Fletch doused his torch then circled the shabby structure to reconnoiter the area. Squatting on his haunches, he waited, listening for sounds that alerted him to trouble. He didn’t know where Hawk was and he didn’t know if Savanna and Grady were inside. He reminded himself, too, that this could be a trap.

Fletch contemplated the various assignments he’d worked with Grady in Colorado. The lazy bastard usually stood back and let Fletch do all the work and take the dangerous chances. Then Grady would swoop in and claim partial credit—and take half the bounty. He’d always been an opportunist of the worst sort.

Fletch smiled pensively. Although he’d taught Grady sev
eral tricks of the trade, he’d never used the signal the Hawk brothers employed during their days as Apache warriors. Fletch mimicked a hoot owl, then waited for a reply.

After several minutes the call came from somewhere to the east. Fletch rose to his feet and walked silently toward the sound. Sure enough, when Fletch answered, he heard a hoot in the underbrush. He moved toward the disembodied voice. Halting five feet away, he waited for his brother to rise like a wraith vaporizing from smoke.

“I found a shack that Grady might be using,” Fletch whispered in Apache.

“I found a tent down by the creek,” Hawk replied.

“Two possible sites. Yet, one or both could be decoys.”

“I agree.”

“How far is the shack from here?” Hawk asked.

“About a half mile,” Fletch replied. “The tent?”

“About the same.”

“I hope we can overtake Grady before he puts a noose around Savanna’s neck. I don’t want her to suffer that kind of hell.”

“Neither do I. Been there. Didn’t like it worth a damn.”

“We need to strike the shack and tent simultaneously,” Fletch said.

“I agree. Both could be booby-trapped to alert Grady to our whereabouts. I’ll check the tent while you approach the shack. Use a coyote howl to signal me,” said Hawk.

Fletch crept off in the darkness, his heart pounding with apprehension. He was deeply concerned about Savanna. She was bold and courageous and she’d refuse to kowtow to Grady. He knew because he’d been her antagonist during their first several confrontations. She’d refused to be intimidated.