Riding With the Devil's Mistress (Lou Prophet Western #3) (32 page)

‘
That’s why I’ve lived as long as I have, old son.’ Prophet
dismounted behind Louisa, then helped her out of the
saddle.

‘
Yeah,’ Mcllroy admitted. ‘Yeah ... I reckon it
is.’

Leading his horse, Prophet
started guiding Louisa, shaky on her feet, back behind the hill.
Over his shoulder he said to the deputy,
‘I figure it took ‘em at least five
minutes to get saddled. They should be along in a minute or
two.’

Behind the hill, Prophet tethered Mean and
Ugly and the Morgan to some shrubs, then walked over to where
Louisa had sat along the base of the hill. He was carrying his
shotgun in one hand, his rifle in the other. Kneeling beside her,
he set his shotgun against his knee and brushed her hair from her
face with his right hand.

‘
The
deputy thinks I’m crazy,’ he said. ‘What you did would get you
locked up tight in a funny farm—jumpin’ that train you knew was
headed straight for the Red River Gang!’

She lifted her head and looked
at him, but he couldn
’t see her eyes. ‘I reckon I didn’t think it all
the way through,’ she said, with a slight shrug of her
shoulders.

Something about the shrug told
Prophet she was all right. Relieved, he clutched her to his chest
and kissed her head. He
’d never known a girl such as her. Nope, never in
his whole life. Few men had her kind of pluck. He was just glad
that he and Mcllroy had made it to the cabin in time to save
her.

‘
Well,’ he said finally. ‘We ain’t out of the woods yet.
Anything funny happens here in the next minute or two, you get on
that Morgan and ride like hell, you understand?’

‘
Give
me a gun, and I’ll help,’ she said, holding out her
hand.

Prophet laughed and shook his
head.
‘You
rest right where you are, Miss Bonny-venture.’

With that he picked up the shotgun, stood,
and climbed the hill. When he was almost to the brow, he removed
his hat, got down, and crawled to the crest, until he could see the
trail snaking around below. On the other side of the hill was the
cottonwood beside which Mcllroy was waiting.

Prophet waved to the deputy,
letting him know he was
in position. Mcllroy lifted an arm, waving back.
Then Prophet turned his gaze northward, the direction in which the
gang would appear—if it appeared, that was. Prophet figured they
would. Even if there were only one or two men left, Prophet figured
they’d want revenge for the trick he and the deputy had pulled on
them back in the cabin.

The thought
hadn
’t left
his mind before he heard the thunder of galloping
hooves.

‘
They’re comin’!’ he yelled to Mcllroy, just loud enough for
the deputy to hear.

Mcllroy waved and slipped
behind the tree. Prophet hunkered down, bringing up his
Richards
’s
sawed-off. Hearing a rustling to his right, he turned sharply with
a startled grunt.

‘
It’s
just me,’ Louisa said, crawling up beside him.

‘
What
are you doin’ here? I told you to stay where you were.’

‘
Since
when are you givin’ the orders?’

‘
Where
did you get that?’ Prophet nodded, indicating the revolver in her
right hand.

‘
Your
saddlebags.’

‘
That’s my extra pistol.’

‘
Thanks for letting me borrow it.’

Hearing the horses more clearly
now, and the squeak of saddle leather, he pushed her head
down.
‘Be
quiet! Here they come!’

Peering down the hill, Prophet saw six
riders come into view around a bend in the trail, growing out of
the darkness and moonlight, their spurs, bridle bits, and silver
hat trimmings flashing. He brought the barn blaster to his shoulder
and waited until the riders were within range.

Tripping both triggers on the
ten-gauge, he watched the two lead men fly off the backs of their
startled mounts. Beside him, Louisa opened up with the Smith &
Wesson. Below him, Mcllroy went to work with his freshly
loaded
Winchester. Prophet tossed his shotgun aside, picked up his
own rifle, and started firing down the hill at what was left of the
Red River Gang being tossed this way and that by flying bullets and
rearing, bucking horses.

Prophet, Mcllroy, and Louisa had taken the
group by such surprise that only two men had had time to squeeze
off rounds before they were shot yelling and cursing from their
saddles. In less than two minutes, all the riders were down and out
of commission, their horses scattering and screaming off in the
night.

Gunsmoke wafted and webbed in the quiet air,
eerily illuminated by the still-climbing moon. Far off, wolves
howled.

Prophet walked down the hill. Louisa
followed, her strength returning to her legs though her swelling
face was beginning to ache in earnest.

Prophet walked among the men
twisted in all possible positions along the trail, making sure they
were all dead. When he
’d checked the last man, he turned to
Mcllroy.

‘
Well,
it looks like we got ‘em.’ To Louisa, he said happily, ‘The last of
the Red River Gang, girl.’

Louisa was walking among the
bodies, her empty revolver held down at her side. She was studying
each face in turn.
‘What about Handsome Dave?’

‘
We
probably got him back at the cabin,’ Mcllroy said.

‘
I
hope so,’ Louisa responded, turning and heading around the hill
toward her horse.

‘
Wait,’ Prophet yelled to her. ‘You shouldn’t go back there
alone, girl!’

As if she
hadn
’t heard
him, she disappeared around the hill. Prophet turned to Mcllroy,
frowning. ‘Let’s get these bodies dragged off the
trail.’

They were dragging the cadavers into the
brush when Louisa spurred the Morgan past them, heading back toward
the cabin.

‘
Goddamnit!’ Prophet yelled after her. ‘Wait for us,
Louisa!’

Without turning around, she rode off in the
moonlight.

Prophet turned to
Mcllroy.
‘That girl’s gonna give me a heart stroke yet. Just you
wait and see if she don’t!’

ONCE AGAIN CURSING the day he
ever laid eyes on Louisa Bonaventure, Prophet rode hard toward the
cabin. Mean was as durable a mount as you
’d find in the West, but even the
hammer-headed line-back was starting to blow and shake his head
with exhaustion. Mcllroy’s horse was giving out, too, and had
slowed to a floppy-footed canter a good hundred yards behind. It
had been a long day for both horses.

Prophet was glad when the cabin appeared in
the cove in the hills, its lanterns still lit and splashing their
dim buttery light on the yard and over the back of the Morgan
standing before the door.

A gun barked from within, stunning the quiet
night.

Cursing, Prophet reined Mean to a sliding
halt and slipped out of the saddle while drawing his six-shooter.
Crouching, he dropped the reins and ran toward the cabin.

When a figure appeared in the door, he
stopped and raised the Colt. But then he saw the long hair falling
to the slender shoulders. Exhaling a sigh of relief, Prophet
lowered the gun to his belly.

‘
Louisa, goddamnit! Why won’t you ever listen to
me?’

‘
He’s
not here,’ was all she said, standing on the stoop and looking
around.

‘
What?’

‘
You
heard me.’

‘
What
were you shootin’ at?’

‘
One
of ‘em was still breathing.’

Prophet stared at her, always surprised at
the matter-of-factness with which such a harmless-looking young
woman went about her killing. Shaking his head, he walked to the
door and looked inside the cabin.

‘
You
sure?’ He raked his eyes around the blood-splattered room littered
with bodies. ‘He’s got to be here. I woulda hit him with my
sawed-off when I first came through the door.’

‘
See
for yourself,’ Louisa said levelly.

Prophet walked around the room,
stepping over bodies, broken chairs, cups, bottles, and the
overturned table. Sure enough—the girl was right. Handsome Dave
wasn
’t
here.

Standing frozen in the middle of the room,
glancing around disbelievingly, Prophet heard a muffled cry. He
jerked around, saw the door to the other room, and remembered the
English women. Moving to the door, he opened it and saw the two
disheveled women lying in heaps along the back wall.

‘
Sorry, ladies,’ he said, shucking his bowie knife. ‘Damn
near forgot about you.’

‘
Who
are you?’ one of them asked.

‘
Name’s Lou Prophet, and what I’m doin’ here’s a long story.
Suffice it to know you’re safe. We’ll take you back to your party
in the morning.’

The woman sobbed as Prophet cut
the ropes binding her wrists and ankles.
‘Who were those men? Who were those .
..
godawful
. .. men!’

‘
That
was the Red River Gang. And I mean ‘was.’ They’re all dead, except
one, that is.’ He frowned, perplexed, at the idea that Dave Duvall
had somehow slipped away.

Prophet heard boots thumping
the floor behind him. Squatting beside the second woman, who was
crying uncontrollably into the first woman
’s low-cut neckline, Prophet turned
his head. The deputy was moving toward him while sweeping his gaze
around the carnage-filled cabin.

‘
Is he
here?’

‘
Nope,’ Prophet said crisply, sheathing his knife and moving
out the door. ‘I must not have shot him because he was too close to
Louisa; the ten-bore would’ve taken them both. He must’ve found him
a good hiding spot after I nabbed the girl, and waited till we were
gone to hightail it.’

Prophet cursed loudly, wincing
and shaking his head.
‘Take care of the women, will you? I’m gonna go
out and see if I can track him.’

The young deputy glanced at the
women, frowning.
‘Now, wait a minute, Prophet. I’m a deputy
U.S.—’

But Prophet was already outside, moving off
the stoop and starting toward the corral off the lean-to, where the
six remaining horses milled, pricking their ears, wide-eyed at all
the commotion. Seeing a figure walking toward him from the south,
Prophet stopped and turned that way. It was Louisa, walking fast if
a little stiffly.

‘
I
found a single set of horse prints branching off the main trail,’
she said, turning toward the Morgan. ‘He must’ve made like he was
riding with the others after us, then branched off at the last
minute. Probably figured we were laying for him.’

Approaching the Morgan, she turned out a
stirrup and began to mount.

‘
Where
are you goin’?’ Prophet asked her.

She reined the exhausted beast
toward him, scowling.
‘After Duvall!’ she said, as though answering the
dumbest question she’d ever heard.

‘
Not
on that horse, you’re not,’ Prophet said. ‘Look at him. He’s ridden
with me and Mcllroy all the way from Fargo. He won’t last another
mile.’

Louisa jerked her head around,
looking for a fresh mount. Prophet shook his head.
‘All these horses
have had it. They need grass, water, and a good night’s
rest.’

‘
Well,
the Morgan’ll just have to do,’ Louisa said, giving the horse the
spurs.

The black gave a halfhearted lunge off its
back feet, but the gallop quickly wilted into a half-hearted
canter. The Morgan blew and shook its head, flinging lather in the
moonlight. At the edge of the yard, it stopped and turned broadside
to Prophet.

‘
Goddamnit,’ Louisa said, her soft voice clear in the quiet
yard, the moon nearly straight overhead. She looked around at the
darkness around the cabin and corral, then turned to
Prophet.

Her voice was small as she gave
into her frustration and weariness.
‘He killed my family.’ She took her face
in her hands and sobbed, slouched in her saddle.

Prophet walked to her, reached up, put his
hands around her waist, and slipped her, crying, from her
saddle.

‘
He
won’t get far, Louisa,’ Prophet assured her. ‘His horse is as tired
as ours. Tomorrow, we’ll track him.. . together.’

‘
He
killed my ... he killed my whole family,’ she cried against
Prophet’s shoulder, releasing a flood of tears, her body racked
with anguish.

Prophet held her tightly, surprised at how
slight and slender she was, for all her vim and vinegar. He stood
there, holding her, and let her cry.

Prophet awoke at dawn the next
morning and lifted his head from his saddle. He looked around the
camp he and
Mcllroy had set up in the tall grass behind the cabin, away
from the main trail.