Belle Gone Bad (6 page)

“O
ne thing for sure,” Manny said. “You've got good vittles. Mama Lou brought over molasses muffins and corn fritters.”

“I appreciate it.” Belle took a deep breath, wondering how she'd gotten into a hole that kept getting deeper. But she knew the answer.
Mercy.
For an Eastern tenderfoot with nothing more than a pencil or paint brush to make his way in the West, he packed a surprising wallop.

Mercy set down his saddlebags. “While you load up, I'll go see what Ludmila has in the way of wigs.”

“You don't trust me to go?” Belle asked.

“No. We don't want nice,” Manny said. “See if she's got a fancy shawl with bright colors.”

“I'll be right back.” Mercy quickly crossed the street.

“Isn't he supposed to be sick?” Belle asked.

“He is.”

“Well, he's not acting much like it.”

Manny chuckled. “Looks like you lit a fire under him.”

“It's more like I got duped into helping him.”

“Don't think that for a minute. Diana needs you. The Bend needs you. Nobody can track like Lil Tex.”

“I'd have to be blind not to track a pacer, but so far this one has stayed one step ahead of me.”

“Odd, isn't it?”

“Something's not right. I should've had that bushwhacker in Judge Parker's court way before now.”

“Right.” Manny spit tobacco to the side and wiped his mouth with his red bandanna.

“When I find Diana's kidnapper, odds are I'll find my bushwhacker.”

“Bet you're holding aces now. You needed something to shake up your search. This is it.”

“I could make better time if I wasn't shackled to a tenderfoot.”

“Don't you think he's part of the shake-up?”

“Maybe. But he's trouble, too.”

“When did you ever run from trouble?”

She sighed again. “Maybe I better start.”

“Not likely. When you catch that horse, bring him to me. I'll put that pacer behind a buggy where he belongs.”

Belle smiled. “I doubt it. You'd like nothing better than to ride about on a pacer just as fancy as you please.”

Manny chuckled as he picked up Mercy's saddlebags. “I'll tie these on the back of his saddle.”

She led her horse into the stable and then stroked down Addy's soft nose. “You'll be fine here with Manny.”

“Addy's been here before and she likes it real well.”

Belle laughed. “She likes oats and rest.”

“Smart horse,” Manny said.

“Is that Mercy's mount?”

“Yep. Kirby's a gentle gelding.”

“He'll never keep up with Juniper.” She stroked across Kirby's stomach. “He'll have a short stride.”

“If you don't race them side by side, Kirby'll do okay with Juniper.” He eased Mercy's saddlebags onto the back of the saddle.

“I suppose you're right. Kirby looks strong.”

She tied her own saddlebags on Juniper's saddle.

“Here you go.” Manny held out a red-and-white-checkered cloth bag with a drawstring top. “Stow that away for later.”

Belle took the bag, sniffed the fragrant contents, and grinned. “I don't know how long I can wait to eat Mama Lou's muffins and fritters.” She eased the food into her saddlebag so as not to crush it.

“Better wait till you get out of the Bend or you'll never hear the last of it from her.”

“I sure don't want to get on her bad side.”

“Nobody does.”

“I appreciate the help.” She glanced around the stable, feeling as if she was setting the image in her mind for later. “You're a good friend.”

“Friends are what make life worth living.” He pointed outside. “Now go out there and find Diana. Get that bushwhacker. Nobody was a better friend than Tex or Hackett.”

She swallowed against a lump in her throat. “They always had our backs.”

“That's why we can't do any less for them now.”

As Belle clutched Juniper's reins, she glanced outside. Mercy was crossing the street, dodging horses and wagons. She'd disliked him from the moment she'd seen what he'd done to the Red River bar. But he'd been a stranger then. Now that she knew him, she didn't even mind his erotic creations so much. He was quite the charmer, and she'd better remember it or she might succumb to every one of his little ideas. Somehow, that didn't seem so bad.

Mercy hurried into the stable with a cloth drawstring pouch in his arms. “I got everything.”

“Let's see,” Manny said.

Mercy pulled out a purple, rose, and green flower print shawl with black fringe. “Silk. Cost a pretty penny, too.” He tossed it toward Belle.

She caught the shawl and stroked the luxurious fabric. “It's lovely. I'll pay you back.”

“No thanks. This is part of finding Diana.”

“What about the wig?” Manny asked.

“I'm not sure it's to Belle's taste, but it's the only one Ludmila had in her store.” He pulled out an object that looked like a dead squirrel.

“That's awful!” Belle objected. “And it's bright red.”

“Ludmila wasn't too keen on it, either. Somehow or the other, it arrived in a shipment of shovels.”

“Shovels!” Manny chortled.

“You can take it right back.” Belle pointed at the wig while holding the elegant shawl close. “If I wore that, I'd look like a lady of the evening.”

“Isn't that the idea?” Mercy asked.

She frowned. “But I could at least look like a classy strumpet.”

“Ludmila won't take it back. She said nobody would ever buy it and she wanted it out of her store. She gave it to us.”

“Oh, all right.” Belle snatched the wig and shoved it, along with the shawl, inside her saddlebag.

“With that wig, guess your new name is easy.
Red
.” Manny chuckled.

Mercy joined his laughter.

Belle closed her eyes and counted to ten to keep from letting her irritation get to her. As a bounty hunter, she was used to a certain level of respect. Now she was getting none and it rankled.

“I apologize,” Mercy said as his laughter dwindled. “I know you wanted a fancy name, and you can still have one.”

“That's the least of my worries.”

“Belle, you oughta see your face. The idea of you wearin' that red wig instead of a six-shooter is funny as all get-out,” Manny said.

“Do I look amused?” When her words set off another round of laughter, she rolled her eyes. “Will you two get serious? Every moment we waste here, Diana is being taken farther away.”

“Sorry.” Manny turned sober.

“So am I,” Mercy agreed. “Guess we've been so worried about Diana that the least thing sets us off.”

Belle swung up on the back of Juniper.

Mercy tied his extra pouch on top of his saddlebags and then mounted his gelding.

“You two be mighty careful in Indian Territory.” Manny walked alongside them as they headed out of the stable.

Outside, Belle looked up and down Main Street. Everything appeared normal, so she glanced down at Manny.

He nodded and patted Juniper's rump. “You take care of that red wig now.”

“I'll be sure to bring it back so you can have a turn at it.”

With Manny's laughter ringing in her ears, she headed onto the street with Mercy by her side.

A
s Mercy rode out of Delaware Bend with Belle, he glanced up at the sky to check the time. With the Sun riding high overhead, they were leaving about noon. He'd wanted to get out of town sooner, but they'd needed the extra time. Now they were as prepared as they could be.

Ludmila waved from the front of Adler Emporium. He waved back. On down the street, he noticed Mama Lou in front of her café. He waved again. Saul gave a thumbs-up from under the portico of the Lone Star Hotel.

“That's just great,” Belle grumbled. “What do we get next, a marching band?”

“Guess they wanted to give us a good send-off.”

“Didn't they consider the fact that somebody might be watching to see how we reacted to Diana's disappearance?”

Surprised, he glanced over at her. “Do you think we're watched?”

“If the kidnapper has help, could be.”

“Maybe an outlaw gang?”

“I wouldn't rule it out.”

“But we may be dealing with a lone man,” Mercy said.

“We won't know till I find the trail. Yet it makes sense for the kidnapper to have help. In Indian Territory, outlaws have systems of communicating with each other. If Deputy U.S. Marshals enter an area, the outlaws are warned ahead of time and disappear. It's one of the reasons they're so hard to catch.”

“What kind of systems?”

“Depends. They've got lookouts stationed at high spots across the land. When it's daylight they might use mirrors to catch sunlight and send a message. Smoke signals from campfires work, too. At night, they can use fire for a light signal. They could also send a fast rider.”

“I never felt watched when I was in Indian Territory.”

“You were probably noticed, but not considered a threat.”

He shook his head at the unwelcome thought.

“You're watched all the time in the country, and not just by folks. Cougars. Coyotes. Snakes. Raccoons. Every critter patrols his territory and knows exactly who or what enters and leaves.”

“But we rarely see them.”

“Most critters want to avoid people.”

“Now I'll always be looking over my shoulder.”

“Just as well. Territory is critical to survival. You either defend it or you lose it.”

“That's your reality, but not everybody's.”

“True. Some folks believe in an unrealistic world where they are completely safe from harm. That's truer in a town than in the country.”

Mercy took a deep breath, considering her words. If he'd been more cautious back East, maybe he wouldn't be in his current situation.

“Wolves and sheep. Predators and prey,” Belle said. “I'd rather be a leader than part of a flock.”

He glanced over at her. “Put that way, I realize now that I was once part of a trusting flock.”

“And you got the short end of the stick?”

“Got no stick at all.”

“Yet you found a way to stay alive with your art. Maybe that's your stick.”

He nodded, realizing that still waters ran deep. She'd given life a lot of thought and come up with her own answers. In contrast, he'd taken the easy path. He'd never do it again.

As they left Delaware Bend in their dust, Mercy felt uneasy. He'd been protected in the Bend. Diana had been helping him heal. He'd thought he was on his way to a full recovery. Not anymore. He'd been cast out among the wolves. But they'd find he was no longer a trusting lamb.

“Keep a lookout for that pacer's tracks,” Belle said.

“I wouldn't know a pacer's track if I fell over it.”

“Not that difficult. Their unusual gait leaves distinctive marks. Also, the dust goes to the front of the hoofprint. With most horses, the dust goes back.”

He simply stared at her. “How am I supposed to see dust in a hoofprint from the back of a horse? I'm not sure I could see it if I had my nose pressed to the ground.”

“You've got an artist's eye, so you're used to noticing detail. If you can't pick up reading sign fast, I'd be surprised.”

“You look for sign. I'll look for rabid rabbits.”

She chuckled. “What are you so grumpy about? Far as I can tell, you've gotten everything you wanted from the first moment I met you.”

“Not everything.” He couldn't resist giving her a look from head to toe to let her know there could be something between them if things were different.

She simply shook her head, clicked to her horse, and rode ahead, leaving him in her dust.

He watched her go, enjoying the fine view. She was as delectable as one of Mama Lou's famous muffins.

They were coming up on the Red River. Indian Territory lay on the north side. Maybe the river would be low enough to easily cross. If not, they'd have to ride along the high bank to locate a good crossing point. It all depended on Belle finding tracks and where they led.

She'd stopped ahead, so he urged Kirby to catch up. When he rode up beside her, she slipped out of her saddle and knelt on the ground.

“Find our pacer?” He watched as she gently touched several hoofprints and then glanced up at him with a smile on her face.

“I believe so.” She stood and walked around the area, checking several more hoofprints. “Two horses. One is a pacer.”

“Diana and her kidnapper?”

She nodded. “I'd say the rider on the pacer holds the reins of the second horse.”

“Makes sense.”

“If he's in a hurry, that's a slow way to travel.”

“Maybe he thought he had enough of a head start.”

She shrugged as she walked toward the river.

“Did they cross over here?” he called.

She nodded, as if confirming something to herself, and then came back. “Looks like it.”

“What's wrong?”

“Doesn't it strike you as odd that the kidnapper made no attempt to cover his tracks, or take a more indirect route?”

“What do you mean?”

“I see a couple of possibilities. One, he's completely sure of his getaway. Two, he wants us to follow him.”

“Why would he want us to follow? And how would he know it'd be us?”

“Remember what I said about a partner in the Bend?”

“Yes.”

“What if somebody knew Diana was working with you? What if somebody knew I was on my way to Delaware Bend?”

“What if it didn't matter who went after Diana?”

“I think it does.”

He looked back toward the Bend, expecting to see the dust of a rider gaining on them. He saw nothing.

“Might be a trap,” Belle said.

“We don't know anything for sure.”

“I don't like the feel of this, from Diana to the pacer. It's too obvious. Outlaws don't stay one step ahead of the law by being dumb.”

“Let's say you're right. What do you think is going on?”

“I wish I knew.”

“You aren't trying to get me to turn back, are you?”

Belle shook her head and gestured at the Red River. “Let's assume somebody is watching us, or at least knows our whereabouts.”

“But it won't stop us.”

“No, it won't. We follow the trail laid out for us, but we stay alert. Somewhere down the line we'll turn the tables.”

“Do you suppose this is how the bushwhacker got Tex and Hackett?”

“Laid a trap and sprang it?”

“Yes.”

She cocked her head to one side as she looked at him. “I do believe we'll make a tracker out of you yet.”