Lady Gone Bad (21 page)

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Authors: Sabine Starr

BOOK: Lady Gone Bad
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Chapter 41
L
ady heard Epona’s cry of warning in time to drop down beside the stone boulder where Pecos Pete crouched in front of the huge slab. Rafe had nowhere to go. He stood defiantly, legs spread, a Colt .45 in each hand as he returned fire.
Horses neighed in protest at the sudden entry of three massive animals into their space, dancing, rearing, and shoving against each other. In all the confusion and dim light, the outlaws’ shots went wild, cracks and pops ricocheting off rock walls as the white smoke of spent gunpowder drifted into all corners of Stone Corral.
Lady focused on Zip Rankin, ignoring everything else as she drew her Colt .44. On horseback, he towered over them, owning the most powerful position. His face was set in a grim expression of savage glee. She bet he’d looked the same when he’d gunned down her parents.
“Untie me!” Pecos Pete hissed, struggling to get loose. “I’ll help fix their flint.”
“No time. Stay down!”
She fired at Zip, missed, fired again and again. Every time she had him in her sights, he shot at her, causing her to jerk back, or his horse pivoted at the last second. She knew Bob was above, rifle trained down on them, but she also knew he couldn’t shoot for fear of hitting her, Rafe, or a horse that could fall on one of them.
Three against two. She wondered why Burt hadn’t slipped in the narrow entry and turned the tide. Then she was back in the battle and fired at Zip again. She finally nicked him across one shoulder and felt a savage pleasure all her own. But in the next instant she saw Rafe get hit by one of Lampkin’s bullets. He crumpled, dropping his pistols.
Fury made her see red. She aimed at Lampkin and pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked on empty. Out of ammunition. She quickly started to reload, looked up, saw Zip take aim. She got one bullet loaded and snapped the cylinder shut. Too late.
Zip fired. Pecos Pete leaped in front of her and took the bullet. He slumped back, bleeding.
She locked gazes with Zip. He looked surprised. Hesitated. She had her moment. She fired the one bullet she’d had time to load straight into Zip’s chest. Blood blossomed across his shirtfront. He grunted in shock as his Colt .45 fell from his limp hand. He followed his pistol to the ground.
Lady quickly loaded another bullet and aimed her revolver at Zip. She felt sure he would rise again, shoot again, kill someone else she loved. He lay prone, motionless. Hardly seemed real. Justice! Finally. And she’d used Da’s Colt .44 to get it.
She looked at Rafe. Was he still breathing? In her head, she heard a warning cry from Epona. She glanced up and saw Lampkin sighting down on her. She’d run out of luck.
Something moved to her right. Rafe! Alive. He fired at Lampkin. But the outlaw deputy fired, too. She felt an impact on her chest. She went down, sure she was dead. Lampkin slumped in his saddle, and slowly slid to the ground.
Heck wheeled his horse around, jumped over the barricade, and rode off into the darkness.
“Lady,” Pecos Pete whispered from where he’d thrown himself at her, knocking her out of harm’s way a second time.
She set aside her pistol and gently eased him across her lap. “Save your strength. We’ll get you help.”
“Gut shot.” His voice sounded sad, losing strength. “No tomorrow.”
“Hang on.”
“Pa rode with Quantrill.” Blood trickled from his lips. “Like father, like son. Lived and died ... for our womenfolk.”
“Don’t die.” Tears burned Lady’s eyes. There’d been too much death and destruction. She didn’t know if she could stand any more.
“Put us in a song?” He attempted to smile, but instead winced with pain.
She eased him closer, smelled death on him, but clung to hope. “Yes. I’ll sing about you both in a ballad.”
“I’m Peter Hawkins. Ma’s got a farm ... near Bonham.” He paused to draw a ragged breath. “See she knows—”
“I’ll tell her myself that you’re a hero. You saved Lady Gone Bad.”
A smile touched his bloody lips.
Lady watched as the light slowly faded from his blue eyes and his ragged breath grew still. Yet happiness remained in the stare he’d locked on her.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. She raised a hand and slowly closed his eyes. “Sometimes good men lose their way. But Pecos Pete ... Peter, you showed your true heart at the end.”
Two rifle shots rang out in the distance. Jerking up her head, she stared past the barricade, but saw nothing move. Hopefully, Burt or Bob had kept Heck from getting away, but she wished no more death on anybody.
“Rafe?” she called out.
He lay slumped over, eyes closed, revolvers near his limp hands. Horrified, she eased Pete aside, holstered her six-shooter, and crawled over to him. She put a hand on his chest, felt a slow heartbeat, and rocked back on her heels. She took a deep breath. He lived, but he was weak.
She eased him onto his back to check for wounds. She found a graze on one shoulder that didn’t worry her, but a bullet had gone through his side. Blood was pumping from the wound. She had to staunch the bleeding fast.
“Rafe.” She fought back fresh tears. “Don’t you dare die on me.”
He slowly opened his eyes, clear gray turned cloudy with pain. “Sweet . . . heart.”
“Please don’t joke.”
“You stole my heart ... first time I ever laid eyes on you, sweetheart.”
Lady froze, realizing he was declaring his love for her. Of all the damn times. Just like a man. Maybe he thought he was going to die, or he’d never have told her. But he wasn’t. She’d see to that. “You’ve got that sweet heart. It’s all yours. Just live.”
He smiled, a slight twist to one corner of his mouth. “Better patch me up.” And closed his eyes.
For the first time in so very long, she actually felt lighthearted. Rafe Morgan might be more trouble than he was worth, but he was
her
trouble and she’d make sure he lived to cause her a whole lot more.
She stood up, raced to Jipsey, fumbling for clean clothing in her saddlebags. A petticoat! She turned back to Rafe.
Three huge, dark shapes cleared the barricade and landed in the corral. The horses snorted, tossing their heads. Lady reached for her revolver to find it wasn’t at her side. Her Colt .44 was on the ground beside Rafe. She dove to the ground, rolled for the gun, turned fast, ready to shoot the single bullet she had in the chamber.
But this time she was looking at the Hayes Brothers. Heck lay limp across the saddle of the third horse.
“You okay?” Burt asked, dismounting.
“Looks like Fast John’s in trouble.” Bob got down and bent over Rafe.
“I’m fine,” Lady said, “but he was shot in the side. I don’t think anything vital was hit, but I’ve got to stop the bleeding.”
“How’d Pecos Pete bite it?” Burt asked, looking down at the outlaw.
“Saved my life. Threw himself in front of the bullet.”
“Didn’t know he had it in him.” Burt knelt, pulled a knife from inside his boot, and cut free Pecos Pete’s wrists. He stuffed the rawhide in a front pocket. “Man gives his life like that. Deserves respect.”
“That’s good,” Lady said, jamming the folded petticoat against Rafe’s wound, holding it down hard, feeling the fabric soak up blood. “Where were you? Bob had to stay on top. Watch for outlaws. Couldn’t shoot down into this mess.”
Burt lowered his head, looking sheepish. “Heck snuck up and cold-cocked me. Took me a while to wake up. Got myself a heck of a goose egg. I’m considerable sorry.”
“Heck didn’t get away. Burt brought him down,” Bob explained.
Lady smiled at them, and then pulled up Rafe’s shirt to examine the wound in his side. She didn’t like the look of so much blood and torn flesh. “He needs a doctor.”
“Won’t find one around here.” Bob shook his head in consternation.
“Fort Smith,” Burt said. “Two or three days’ ride. Will Fast John make it?”
“He’s got to.” She pressed a hand to Rafe’s forehead, checking for fever even thought she knew infection couldn’t have set in so soon. “You’ll go with us?” She glanced up at the brothers, feeling a great sense of anxiety at the thought of getting Rafe help alone.
Burt blinked in astonishment. “We wouldn’t let you go off by your own self with an injured man. That’s rough country between here and there.”
“I appreciate it.” She felt blessed with so many people helping her. Almost like family. She bound Rafe’s wounds, relieved the blood flow had slowed.
“Let’s mount up,” Burt said.
“We’ll take it slow,” Bob added.
The brothers quickly got the horses ready. They lifted Rafe to his saddle on Justice. She mounted behind to hold him steady.
“One thing,” Burt said. “What’d you and Fast John do to set a bee in Zip’s bonnet?”
Lady looked at him in surprise. She remembered the brothers had been on the outside looking in. “You two good at keeping secrets?”
Burt grinned, punched Bob in the shoulder, and mounted his horse.
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got a long road to go,” Bob said, settling into his saddle.
Lady checked Rafe’s bandages and was relieved to see no more blood loss. She draped a blanket around her shoulders and across his body to keep him warm. She put a hand protectively over his chest and felt the slow beat of his heart.
Her heart. Her sweetheart.
Chapter 42
R
afe was lucky to be alive. And knew it. He woke with the dawn and Sharlot’s arms wrapped around him. He managed to stay on his horse till they reached Fort Smith. Sharlot and the Hayes Brothers tried to get him to see a doctor first. He insisted on going straight to Marshal Boles with the four dead outlaws slung across the saddles of the horses Burt and Bob were leading.
Turned out, Boles already suspected Lampkin. Too much hadn’t added up for too long. Zip Rankin and his gang had cut a wide, dangerous swathe through Indian Territory for years. Boles commended Rafe for bringing all four men to justice, and then reinstated him as a deputy marshal.
After that, life became a haze of doctors, stitches, baths, ointments, food, and sleep. Sharlot’s face swam in the center of it all, but he couldn’t remember much more than that. Not until three days later.
He awoke that morning with a clear head, if a weak body. He put on new clothes, a charcoal single-breasted sack suit and a white percale shirt. Sharlot’s choice, paid for with her singing money. He didn’t know when he’d dressed so fine, and he wasn’t entirely comfortable. Soon he’d get his own money, pay her back, and buy something more suited to his life.
Now that he was up and about, he had one more problem to solve. Sharlot Eachan, the renowned Lady Gone Bad. When they’d laid all their cards on the table, she was all hat and no cattle. Mostly no cattle anyway. She might have spread a little information here and there among outlaws, but she’d never stolen or robbed anybody. He needed to get her name cleared with Judge Parker and Marshal Boles. Time was ripe to do it.
The Hayes Brothers rented a buggy and drove them to the Western District of Arkansas courthouse, barracks, and jail. The brothers insisted they wanted to make the trip from the hotel easier on Rafe. He suspected they really wanted an excuse to get a better look at the jail, because of the way they peeked in through the outside windows.
Prisoners had been known to languish in the damp, smelly confines of the basement jail for weeks or months before they reached court and a jury decided their sentence.
To one side rose the infamous white gallows with slanted roof. There was room for twelve to swing together. Thousands had been known to watch. Despite his moniker, the Hangin’ Judge preferred rehabilitation to punishment, dignity to entertainment, so he’d had a high fence constructed around the gallows to keep out the crowds.
With Sharlot at his side, Rafe walked up the steps of the two-story redbrick building that housed the court. As he reached for the door, it crashed open and a young woman swept outside, almost knocking them over.
“Crystabelle!” he cried, grabbing her elbow.
She jerked back, glaring at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Me? I work from here.”
Astonished, he looked her over. She’d completely transformed herself from the disheveled, sultry Angel to a prim and proper teacher. She wore a severe brown suit with a white blouse and a hat to match. Brown gloves covered her hands and basic brown shoes were on her feet. She’d pulled her hair back in a tight chignon.
“What are you looking at?” she hissed, brows drawing together in a frown.
“Crystabelle?” Lady asked in amazement. “That you?”
“Yes!” she snapped.
“Where’s the Viking?” Rafe half expected to see the big blond man follow her outside.
Crystabelle smirked, curling her upper lip in derision. “I have no idea.”
“I thought you were going to—” Lady stopped, cutting off her words.
“Are you planning to teach again?” Rafe asked, cautiously treading the choppy water.
“Yes! I’m going back to Bonham and putting my recent unfortunate experience behind me.”
“If you’ll wait,” Rafe said, “we’ll get done here and we can all go to dinner.”
“No time. I have tickets for the stage to McAlester. From there, I’m taking the train to Bonham and civilization.”
“Won’t the Viking be upset?” Lady asked.
Crystabelle bit her lower lip. “If you must know, he kicked me out. Told me I’d be better off with my own kind.” She raised her chin. “Well, I fixed
his
wagon. He’ll get to spend plenty of time with
his
own kind.”
“Crystabelle, what did you do?” Rafe felt more concerned all the time. She wasn’t acting like herself at all.
“I’m not a woman to be scorned.” She started down the stairs.
“Wait!” Rafe hastened after her. “You’re done with him?”
“Can’t you hear? I’m going back to Bonham. That’s all over.”
Lady followed hard on their heels. “We’d like to spend time with you. Please change your plans and stay over.”
“No. A new semester starts soon. I must be there.” She touched Rafe’s cheek with a single finger. “Brother, I’m fine.”
“Introduce us!” Burt called, long legs eating up the ground as Bob kept up with him. The brothers had transformed their appearances as much as Crystabelle. Wild black hair tamed and cut short. Clean-shaven with neat mustaches. Blue seersucker plaid sack suits with rounded corners. Derby hats.
“This is my sister, Crystabelle,” Rafe began introductions.
“We’re the Hayes Brothers. I’m Burt. This is Bob.”
Crystabelle blinked, looked them over, and then laughed. “I do believe we’ve already met. You know me as Angel.”
Burt’s eyes grew round in surprise.
“Ain’t that the beatingest,” Bob said.
“I’m getting back to my real life.” Crystabelle demurely clasped her hands together.
Burt glanced from Crystabelle to Rafe to Sharlot. “You’ve
all
been working undercover?”
“Sure glad I’m a showman, not an outlaw,” Bob said. “I’d be catawamptiously chawed up.”
“Nice seeing all of you again,” Crystabelle said. “I’ll trust you to be discreet regarding my sojourn in Indian Territory. I’m a teacher, after all. We’re required to set a high moral standard.”
“I’ll come see you. We’re due for a talk,” Rafe said. “Glad you’re going to teach again.” He wished he could persuade her to stay longer, but she was hardheaded as a mule. Once she got her mind set, he’d never been able to change it, not since she was a kid. If he tried, matters only got worse. For now, he’d let her go, but they’d be talking real soon.
“Probably for the rest of my extremely boring life,” Crystabelle said. “Now I have a stage to catch.”
“Wait!” Bob held up a big hand. “We’ll drive you.”
“A gently bred lady like you shouldn’t walk,” Burt agreed, extending an elbow for her.
“How kind,” Crystabelle said.
Rafe watched in astonishment as his sister walked away between the two tall brothers, each small hand tucked around a muscular arm.
Burt glanced back. “We’ll return!”
“Do you think she’s all right with them?” Rafe asked.
Lady chuckled. “They’re probably trying to figure a way to put a teacher onstage.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past them.”
“She’s in good hands. Let’s get this over with.” Lady walked up the stairs and pulled open the door.

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