Bobbi Smith (21 page)

“Jack ain’t gonna like this,” Lew remarked. He thought they should keep going awhile longer. “He ain’t gonna to like this at all.”

“Hell, I don’t like it,” Wade told them. “But there’s nothing more we can do. Even if we split up, I don’t see any hope. We could keep at it for days, but there’s no guarantee we’d ever pick up the trail again.”

“I know. You’re right,” Rob said, turning his horse back toward the Lazy S. He could just imagine how upset their boss was going to be when they returned without Randi. He sure hoped Hawk had better luck finding her than they had.

Randi had had enough as she rode along with Fred near sundown on the second day. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to do just yet, but tonight was the night. Tonight she was going to take action. Somehow she was going to get free, and when she did, she was going for Fred’s gun. He had murdered her father and the man she loved. She wanted revenge.

Randi realized it would be dangerous, possibly deadly, but at this point she no longer cared much about staying alive.

She had no future.

Her future had died with Hawk.

While they’d been riding today, Fred had taken great pleasure in describing what her life was going to be like once he’d sold her off. Randi knew she’d rather be dead than live through what he had planned for her.

“We’ll camp here,” Fred declared.

His words interrupted Randi’s thoughts, and she was forced to play the obedient captive again—for a while. Docilely, she did as she was told, dismounting and sitting down in the small clearing while he tended to their horses and built a small campfire. She kept hoping he would let his guard down, since she seemed so willing to do whatever he told her to do.

Fred handed her some food and the canteen. He sat down across from her to eat, too.

“In another few days we’ll be there. Then once I get rid of you, I can start living the good life,” he said with a smile.

She had been trying to ignore him, but her hatred of him got the best of her. “What kind of life can you have, knowing you’re a murderer?”

“I did what I had to do.”

“Kill two innocent men?”

Fred’s expression turned ugly. “You’re old man was hell to work for! He worked us long days and didn’t pay us much of anything, and then he went and fired me just for trying to get rid of that damned half-breed!”

“Hawk was a good man.” Fury welled up inside her.

He looked at her and sneered, “Yeah, he’s good—good and dead—just like every Indian and half-breed should be.”

Fred got up and went over to Randi to get her ready to bed down for the night. He needed to retie her arms behind her back and bind her ankles again. He needed to know she wasn’t going anywhere while he was trying to sleep.

But Randi had other ideas. Her anger with him was so great, she was barely able to control herself. She scratched up two handfuls of the sandy, gritty dirt, and just as Fred hunkered down in front of her, she threw the dirt right in his face, deliberately aiming for his eyes.

“You bitch!” Fred yelled, temporarily blinded.

Randi lunged forward and shoved him as hard as she could. Fred lost his balance and fell backward. She made a grab for the gun in his holster. He anticipated her move and hit out at her. He managed to knock her away from him.

Spotting his rifle on the far side of the campfire near his bedroll, she ran to it. She picked up the rifle awkwardly and started to spin around to face him. With her hands bound, it was hard to keep a grip on the rifle, let alone fire it, but she had to try. She knew this might be her only chance.

Randi looked up to find that Fred was already right behind her.

She didn’t hesitate. She pulled the trigger.

Randi knew an instant of satisfaction when she heard Fred shout out in pain as the bullet hit him in his left arm.

Even though she’d shot him, it didn’t stop him from coming after her. Fred tackled Randi with brute force as she tried to flee. The power of his assault knocked the rifle out of her hands and left her pinned beneath him on the hard, rocky ground.

“You’re gonna pay for this,” Fred raged at her. He violently backhanded her. Right then he no longer cared if she had any bruises on her or not.

The fierce power of his blow left Randi dazed. She tried to fight back, but her efforts were weak and futile.

Fred dragged her bodily over to her blanket and shoved her down. He was bleeding from the gunshot wound in his upper arm, but he still managed to tie her up so she wouldn’t be able to move for the rest of the night.

Fred got up and staggered away, clutching his wounded arm. He had to get the bleeding stopped. He knew he’d been lucky. It was only a flesh wound, but it still hurt like hell.

The sound of the single gunshot had echoed eerily through the night. Miles away Hawk heard it and was instantly alert. He got up and stood there in the night, staring off into the darkness. An even greater fear for Randi’s safety filled him when total silence followed. He continued to wait, but heard nothing more.

Hawk didn’t bother to lie back down. There was no point in trying to sleep.

When at last the first light of dawn brightened the eastern sky, he was already on Phantom continuing his pursuit. He was even more worried now about what he would find on the trail ahead.

Fred’s arm was hurting him when he got up at dawn. He walked over to Randi and nudged her with the toe of his boot.

“Wake up.”

She opened her eyes to find him standing over her. She could see the hatred he had for her in his expression, but she didn’t care. She was just sorry she hadn’t been able to get off a better shot.

“You look real pretty this morning,” Fred sneered, enjoying the sight of Randi’s bruised cheek. She damned well deserved it.

He knelt down, untied her feet and hands, then tied her hands in front of her again so she could ride. He went to saddle the horses, but kept an eye on her while she got ready. His wounded arm slowed him down, so it was later than usual when they finally rode out.

A sense of hopelessness overwhelmed Randi as she faced yet another day in captivity. Never before in her life had she felt so completely devastated. She had tried her best to escape and she had failed. She rode along in silence, staring off in the distance.

Comanche warrior Running Wolf and several other warriors from the tribe were on their way back to their village when they caught sight of two riders in the distance. They positioned themselves on top of a nearby rise to watch their approach and be ready to attack.

Fred was completely unaware of the danger that lay ahead of them. He was concentrating only on covering as many miles as possible that day. He was in pain, and he just wanted to get rid of Randi as fast as he could and collect as much money as he could get for her. He was mad that the damned woman had almost gotten the best of him. Of course, this was Randi and she wasn’t just any woman. He was going to be real glad when he was through with her.

Randi saw them first—Comanche warriors silhouetted against the sky in the distance.

“Comanche!” she gasped.

“What?” Fred was surprised that she’d spoken, and he was even more alarmed when he realized what she’d seen. Absolute terror filled him at the sight of the warriors. He knew what kind of fate would await them at the hands of the Comanche.

Fred forcefully wheeled their horses around and took off, galloping back the way they’d come. They had passed a rocky area not too long before. He knew that if he could reach that, he’d at least have some cover from which to return fire.

Running Wolf and his band wasted no time giving chase. Their chilling war cries filled the air, echoing across the land as they rode.

Fred and Randi reached the rocks in time. He threw himself from his horse’s back and ran for cover. He didn’t care what happened to Randi now. All that mattered was saving his own skin. He left her to fend for herself.

Randi took cover, too, but as far away from Fred as she could. Huddling down behind a rock, she started to work at freeing her hands. She stayed down low, rubbing the rope against a sharp edge on the rock. If she got her hands free, she would have a little bit better chance of surviving.

Running Wolf and his men attacked the white man from a distance, drawing his fire. They shot back at him, but did not close in. It was only a matter of time before he ran out of ammunition, and then they would overrun him.

Fred expected this to be a fight to the death, so he was determined to take as many of the Comanche with him as he could. He was shocked when the Comanche suddenly stopped firing. Their war cries no longer rent the air. Everything was completely and eerily silent.

Fred couldn’t imagine why they’d stopped their attack. He carefully peeked out from behind the rock where he’d taken refuge to see what had happened. He knew the Comanche didn’t just stop an attack for no reason.

Randi, too, was confused. She looked out from her hiding place to see that the Comanche had reined in and were staring off in the direction from which she and Fred had just come. She shifted her position to look that way.

It was then that Randi saw him. There on top of a low rise not too far off was a lone warrior mounted on a magnificent white stallion.

Randi’s heart lurched painfully. The stallion seemed to be Phantom, and the warrior looked a little like Hawk.

Randi told herself it couldn’t be Hawk. Hawk was dead; Fred had said so.

The fierce-looking warrior started riding toward them at a slow, measured pace.

As he drew ever closer, she suddenly realized the warrior wasn’t wearing the traditional loin cloth. He was wearing long pants and boots! She hadn’t been wrong. It was Hawk, and he was actually riding Phantom!

Unspeakable joy filled her, and tears came to her eyes.

Hawk was alive! He was alive!

And he’d come for her!

Randi wanted to jump up and run to him. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and stay in his embrace forever.

But reality intruded.

The danger was still there. She was unarmed and threatened by Fred on one side and fierce hostile Comanche warriors on the other.

Randi stayed where she was, trying to figure out what do to. The fact that the Comanche had stopped their attack and were watching Hawk meant something.

Only the finest warrior could ride the phantom stallion.

She remembered the legend then, and for the first time, she felt hope grow within her again.

Hawk was here.

He had come to save her—again.

Everything would be all right.

It had to be.

Hawk had been a driven and desperate man as he’d continued his search for Randi that day. He’d ridden Phantom hard and fast, pushing the stallion to his limit following the trail. He’d frantically tried to find some trace of her and had feared the worst.

When he’d first heard the sounds of the battle, Hawk had raced to the top of the rise. He had seen the fighting below, and it was then that he’d spotted two horses running from the rocky area and recognized that one of them was Angel.

Hope had surged through him, for he knew that meant Randi was somewhere close by.

He’d looked among the rocks, and that was when he’d seen Randi, hiding out there. He’d seen Fred, too, using the rocks for cover as he’d returned the warriors’ fire.

Fury had filled Hawk.

Fred was the one who’d ambushed them and taken Randi captive!

Hawk had known he had to stop the fighting somehow. He’d just started forward when the Comanche caught sight of him. He’d reined in, unsure how they would react to his presence, and he’d been surprised when the warriors had suddenly stopped their attack to stare up at him.

Hawk had been puzzled for a moment, but then he’d remembered that the Comanche believed the tale of the phantom stallion, too.

Torn between the thrill of finding Randi alive and the agony of knowing just how dangerous the situation was, Hawk lifted one arm in greeting and rode slowly toward the gathering of warriors.

Running Wolf tensed as he watched the mysterious warrior riding toward them on what looked like the phantom stallion. He was shocked when the rider drew close, and he recognized him as Hawk. He had not seen his friend since his last visit to the village, and that had been many years before. He knew Hawk was living in the white world, and he wondered what had brought him there that day, dressed as he was.

“Who is this warrior?” one of the braves asked.

“He is one of us,” Running Wolf assured him.

“You know this one?” Broken Knife asked, more than a little in awe. He could see that the warrior was wearing the pants and boots of a white man, but he also knew the legend about the stallion.

“He is the finest warrior,” Running Wolf answered with certainty. “He is Hawk.”

When Hawk reached the group of warriors, he reined in before them. His tension had eased when he’d recognized Running Wolf among them.

“It is good to see you, my friend,” Hawk greeted him in the Comanche tongue. Though they had not seen each other in a long time, they had been good friends during the years he’d lived with the tribe.

“It is good to see you,” Running Wolf returned. He eyed the horse with great interest, then looked up at Hawk with respect and admiration. “You are riding the stallion of the legend.”

“He has served me well in my quest,” Hawk praised Phantom.

“You are on a quest?”

“Yes, I have come to rescue the white man’s captive.”

Running Wolf had wondered why only one of the white riders had returned their fire. Now he understood.

“Who is this captive?”

Hawk answered, “She is my woman.”

“We will help you.”

Fred had grown even more terrified as he’d watched the warrior on the white stallion ride up to join the other Comanche. And when he finally recognized that it was Hawk, his fear turned to insane fury.

He’d shot Hawk!

Hawk couldn’t still be alive!

He had to be dead!

But even as he tried to deny the reality of Hawk’s presence, he couldn’t.

Desperate and willing to try anything to save his own skin, Fred stayed low and scrambled through the rocks toward the place where Randi had taken cover. Using her as a shield would be his only hope for escape.