Relentless (10 page)

Sheriff Perkins, an arrogant, black-haired, mustachioed man, looked over at him and sneered, “We’re leaving when I’m good and ready.”

A rumble went through the gathered men.

“Don’t you go giving me any trouble, boys. I’m the law in this town.”

They fell silent, all thinking that Canyon Springs could use a better man.

“Sheriff, we respect that, but they’ve taken Dusty,” Rick said, stepping up. “We’ve got to get her back.”

Fred went to stand with the young banker. He had come to respect Rick in the short time he’d been there in town. “Rick’s right, Sheriff. Dusty needs us.”

Sheriff Perkins was agitated, and seriously afraid of giving chase to the deadly gang. He knew Les and his men were likely to kill their pursuers on sight, and he was in no hurry to die. He liked his job there in quiet little Canyon Springs. There wasn’t much more trouble than a couple of drunks fighting every now and then, and he could handle that pretty easily. The Jackson gang, though, had him terrified, and he was fighting hard not to let his fear show in front of the other men. If he wanted to keep his job, he had to play the role.

“All right, fellas, Fred’s here now. Let’s go find these killers!”

Rick and Fred exchanged troubled looks as they went to mount up. They knew it was going to be hard work tracking the outlaws when they had such a big lead, but they were determined to do everything in their power to bring Dusty home.

Dusty had always considered herself to be a strong person, especially after the long months spent riding shotgun with her father. She’d come to believe she could handle just about anything that came her way, but the past four days of being held captive by the outlaw gang left her doubting herself. Still tied to the outlaw leader, she lay curled up on her side under her blanket near the campfire. She’d heard the man talk about the plans he had for her, and she knew what fate awaited her when they reached the cantina. The thought of being forced to sell her body horrified her, and she’d been desperately trying to figure out a way to escape from the three killers. Mile after desolate mile of travel, riding double with Les Jackson had given her no chance to get away, though. She felt completely and utterly helpless, and that didn’t sit well with her—not at all.

Dusty listened to the conversation now as the three men sat around the campfire, sharing a bottle of whiskey. Desperately, she wondered if there was any chance a posse could catch up with them
and rescue her. She’d refused to give up hope for the first few days, but now, with each passing mile that took her farther and farther away from home, she was beginning to believe there was no one coming for her. She was on her own.

Drawing deep within herself, Dusty found the fortitude she needed.

She had to find a way to escape.

She could count on no one but herself.

Knowing the outlaws were drinking heavily tonight, she believed she might have a chance to sneak off if she could find a way to cut through the rope. Ever so carefully, she looked around and spotted a small rock within reach. She drew it to her and carefully began to rub the rope that bound her to Les Jackson against the rock’s roughest edge. This bond would be the hardest one to remove, but it was the most important. If she couldn’t free herself from it, she had no chance at all to escape.

A sense of renewed determination filled Dusty as she began to fight for her freedom. Time was running out. She had to do something fast.

Ugly Joe looked over at the outlaw leader, who was lounging across the campfire from him. “What do you think, Les? Ain’t it time we found us some place to do some celebrating?”

They’d been riding hard since the holdup four days before, and he was more than ready to find a town with a saloon and some hot, willing women. He let his gaze rest on the girl curled up beside Les. She seemed to be asleep.

Les knew what kind of man Ugly Joe was, and he knew trouble would be coming if they didn’t find somewhere to relax pretty soon. “I’m not sure we’ve outrun them yet.”

“We know that sheriff from Canyon Springs is useless,” Ugly Joe argued. “Even if he got up a posse, he’ll never find us.”

“No, he won’t, but don’t forget the Rangers. We took care of the one, but that don’t mean there aren’t others still after us.”

Ugly Joe cursed under his breath at the thought of the Rangers. They were known to be relentless in their tracking. “Give me the damned whiskey.”

Cale held out the bottle of liquor he’d been drinking and Ugly Joe snatched it from his hand.

“There ain’t no reason to hog it all. There’s plenty to go around,” Cale told him.

“Not if I have my way,” the other outlaw growled.

Les spoke up, recognizing Ugly Joe’s bad mood. “Take it easy, boys. We’ll ride for Flat Rock and stop there for a day or two just as soon as I’m sure nobody’s on our trail. Then you can have yourselves some fun before I head down to the cantina to get my extra cash for the girl.”

Cale didn’t say another word. He knew how much Ugly Joe loved to fight, and the last thing he wanted to do was get into it with him over the liquor.

“Here, Cale. I got one bottle left,” Les offered, pulling his own whiskey out of his saddlebag. “Ain’t no reason we all can’t share.”

“I appreciate it,” Ugly Joe said as he took the
bottle from Les and opened it to take a deep drink. “I owe you.”

“I’ll remember that.”

They drank long into the night until the powerful liquor finally did its work and they all passed out.

The silence that overtook the campsite filled Dusty with hope. She’d never had much use for whiskey before, but she truly appreciated its numbing power over Jackson and his men as she carefully pushed her blanket aside and looked around. The three outlaws seemed to be sleeping soundly, and she knew this was her only chance to get away. It hadn’t been easy freeing herself from the rope, but she’d done it. Now she just had to get as far away from the outlaws as she could before they woke up and realized she was missing.

Dusty silently arranged her blanket to make it look as if she were still curled up there sleeping. She thought about trying to get one of the guns, but the men were wearing their holsters and slept with their rifles right next to them. She would have no chance to grab one without being caught. She’d been lucky so far this night, but didn’t want to push it. She would have liked to have taken one of the horses, but there was no way. Even as drunk as they were, the outlaws would awaken instantly if they heard the horses stirring.

Praying desperately that she could make her escape without waking them, Dusty crept into the darkness, determined to get as far from the campsite as she could before daybreak. She moved off
in the direction they’d come, hoping the rugged terrain would help hide her trail. She hoped, too, that she might run into a posse from town. If she didn’t—

Dusty didn’t even let herself think about what could happen to her alone and on foot, unarmed and without food and water. She was going to do this. She was going to escape and find her way home, and then she was going to ride back with the law and help catch her father’s killers. She had every intention of being there when the Jackson gang was brought to justice.

She’d heard Les talking about Texas Rangers being after them, too, but she’d seen no sign of anyone closing in. She hoped the Rangers were out there, but no matter what, somehow, some way, she was going to see the murderers pay for what they’d done. Her sadness turned to determination and fury as she fled into the night, and she knew that fury would sustain her.

Grant was up before dawn and saw the ominous red tint to the eastern sky as the sun rose. Knowing bad weather was coming, he was glad he hadn’t bothered to wait for the sheriff and his posse. He hadn’t seen any sign of them since he’d left town. If the posse had even found the trail, they were at least a good day’s ride behind him, and he had no time to waste if he was going to catch up to Les Jackson.

Thoughts of Justine, or Dusty as Miss Gertrude had called her, haunted him as he rode out. She’d
been so lovely, so feminine, the night of the dance, he found it hard to believe anyone would ever mistake her for a boy, even if she was wearing men’s clothes. His expression darkened as he imagined what Les might have in store for her. He urged his horse on to a faster pace. Dusty was out there somewhere, and he wasn’t going to quit until he found her.

Les woke up first and groaned. The liquor had worked its magic the night before, but now he was paying the price.

“Time to get moving,” Les growled as Cale began to stir. His head was aching, and he was angry with himself for drinking so much. He knew it was going to be a long, painful day of riding. He sat up and looked over to where the girl was still curled up under her blanket. He figured with the noise they’d just made, she was faking being asleep, so he yanked on the rope that tied him to her, wanting to get her moving.

Les was shocked when the rope pulled free.

“What the—”

He ran over to her blanket and threw it back to find she was gone.

“What’s wrong, Les?” Cale asked as he sat up quickly and looked over. One glance told him what he needed to know. “She’s gone?”

Les was swearing vilely as he strode to where Ugly Joe was still sleeping. He kicked the other man angrily, demanding, “Where is she? What did you do with her?”

Ugly Joe was hungover and hurting. Getting booted in the side didn’t sit well with him at all. He charged to his feet, ready for a fight. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the girl!”

“What about her?” In his fog from the drinking binge, he could only frown and stare stupidly at Les.

“Look, you dumb ass!” He pointed toward her empty bedroll.

Ugly Joe was as shocked as Les had been to find she was nowhere around. “I didn’t do nothing with her. I passed out right after you did—” He liked a good fight, but he was in no condition to take on Les this morning, especially as mad as the outlaw leader was.

Les was still cursing as he began to look for her around the campsite. “She didn’t get any of our guns and she didn’t take a horse. She shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Cale looked at him as if he were crazy. “You want to waste time looking for her? We gotta keep moving.”

“I’m going after her,” Les snarled as he went to saddle his horse.

Cale looked over at Ugly Joe, hoping he would try to help convince Les to change his mind, but the other man only shrugged. They had a better chance of avoiding trouble if they stayed together. There was safety in numbers. After all, they’d still seen no sign of Jim. There was no telling what had happened to their friend.

Cale and Ugly Joe went to saddle their horses, too. If they’d thought their previous days had been hard, today was going to be even worse.

Dusty was exhausted as daylight spread across the land. She hadn’t stopped all night in her desperate flight, but now with the heat of the day coming, she knew she needed to find water and a place to hide out. The outlaws would be searching for her and she had to be careful not to give herself away. She kept looking for some sign of a posse, but could see no trace of anyone.

Dusty finally found a small spring and stopped long enough to drink her fill. She regretted deeply that she didn’t have a canteen with her, but there had been no way she could have taken one without rousing the sleeping outlaws. Her thirst satisfied for the time being, she moved on, traveling another half mile before seeking cover deep under a rocky overhang. She was glad there were no snakes there, and took what comfort she could find on the hard ground.

“There’s a storm coming,” Cale pointed out, drawing a dirty look from Les.

“So ride harder,” Les ordered.

Dark threatening clouds were gathering to the northwest, and he wanted to find the girl before the rain washed out her trail.

“We’ve been after her for more than two hours,” Ugly Joe complained, “and we ain’t found her yet.”

“She’s good at hiding her trail,” Cale agreed.

“We keep riding much more in this direction, and we’re going to find a posse from town, not the girl,” Ugly Joe said.

Les was furious. He wasn’t used to being outsmarted by anyone, let alone a female. He’d mainly wanted to find the girl to teach her a lesson for trying to escape from him, but this time he knew his boys were right. They had their money. It was time to take care of themselves and forget the runaway. Les figured she wouldn’t last long on foot anyway with no food or water or weapon. Reining in, Les looked out over the rocky, rugged countryside but saw no trace of her.

“You’re right, boys. It’s time we headed for Flat Rock. I think there’s some good times waiting for us there.”

Ugly Joe and Cale shared a look of relief as they turned their horses and rode for Flat Rock. The wild town would be the perfect place to hide out and enjoy themselves.

Grant dismounted to check the trail he’d been following. A crushed blade of grass assured him that he was heading in the right direction and that he was closing in on the outlaws. He looked out across the rugged terrain, but saw no sign of the gang anywhere in the distance. The best he could figure, they were still close to a good day’s ride ahead of him. As determined as ever, he mounted up again and moved on, keeping an eye on the gathering clouds.

The deep rumble of thunder in the distance warned Grant that the threatening storm would break soon. Tracking on the rocky ground was hard enough as it was, but if the storm proved to be as severe as it looked, he knew it would wash out the trail completely. Best Grant could tell, Jackson and his men were riding southwest, so he would head that way once the weather cleared, and hope that he could find some sign of them again. They were not going to get away.

The wind picked up, and when lightning erupted from the clouds, Grant sought what shelter he could find beneath a rocky outcropping. He threw
on his slicker and waited out the storm, frustrated by the delay but more determined than ever not to give up.

As he waited out the storm, Grant wondered where Frank was. He hoped his friend was hard on the gang’s trail, too. He looked out into the downpour and prayed that Dusty hadn’t been harmed.

Dusty stayed in her hiding place until long after the storm had moved through. The fierceness of it thrilled her even though she’d gotten wet. She didn’t really mind the discomfort, because she knew that the heavy downpour had erased all traces of her passing. She waited until midafternoon before venturing out. When she saw no sign of Les and his men, she offered up a prayer of thanks as she moved on. Just because she couldn’t see them right now didn’t mean they weren’t somewhere around, so she kept a careful watch as she started off in the direction of Canyon Springs again.

Hunger was her driving force and she began to search for anything that was edible. She found some persimmons and wild onions. They weren’t much, but they offered some sustenance. She needed all the strength she could get to keep moving.

As the afternoon wore on, the heat grew unbearable, but Dusty didn’t want to risk stopping to rest again. The danger was too great.

Thanks to the heavy rain, she was able to find a little more water than usual in this harsh land. At one small pool, she knelt down to cup her hands and get a drink. As she did, for the first time in days,
she caught a glimpse of her own reflection. She stared at the image mirrored in the water, her dirty face and hair.

Had it only been a few days ago that she’d been “Justine”? When her hair had been done up with a feminine bow, and she’d worn a pretty dress and jewelry? It seemed an eternity since the night she’d felt like a princess out of a fairy-tale book, dancing with the stranger in town named Grant.

Grant—

She remembered how he’d appeared out of nowhere to save Francie from the drunken cowhands, and she wondered where he was now.

As soon as she had the thought, she grew angry with herself.

There was no handsome prince riding to her rescue.

Her father was dead.

She was alone, on her own.

She could count on no one but herself.

Tears blurred her vision, but she forced them away. This was no time to be weak. She could only think about staying alive.

She got up and kept moving.

It was dark when Dusty decided to take a chance and climb up a steep incline. She hoped to spot any campfires that were nearby, so she’d know how close the outlaws were to catching up with her. The footing was treacherous, but she made it, and her relief was great when she discovered no sign of any campfire back in the direction she’d come. She decided to check ahead of her, too, and it was
then that she spotted a campfire’s faint glow in the distance.

A torrent of emotions assailed her. She was torn between the joy of thinking it might be a posse from town, to the full terror of fearing it could be other strangers, as lawless and dangerous as the Jackson gang.

Dusty calmed herself and made her decision. She was getting weak and had been feeling a little dizzy. She’d found little water since earlier that afternoon, and needed a drink. She knew her best chance of survival was to make her way up close to the campsite and find out who was there. She was hoping to discover the campsite crowded with men from town. She was hoping to see the sheriff and her father’s friends.

Though she was growing ever more unsteady, she made her way back down the incline and moved off toward the glow of the campfire more than a mile away.

Grant was glad the weather had cleared. He had been able to make up some of the time he’d lost by riding even harder that afternoon, but his mood was still troubled as he ate his sparse meal. Something was bothering him, and he wasn’t quite sure what it was. The night seemed quiet enough. He’d seen no threat of any danger around, but he had a sense of uneasiness that left him more alert than usual. He went to check on his horse one last time, then sat back down by the fire, keeping his rifle close beside him.

Dusty moved silently through the darkness. She knew there might be a guard keeping watch, so she had to be careful. As she got closer to the light, she sought higher ground and tried to position herself so she could get a clear view of the campsite. In the distant glow of the small campfire, she could make out only one man. Lean and broad shouldered, he was sitting back away from the fire and was wearing his hat pulled down low, shadowing his face, so she couldn’t make out his features.

Dusty’s spirits sank when she realized it wasn’t a posse from town. Fearful of being discovered, she started to move quickly away to find a place to hide for the rest of the night. Her sudden movements left her even more dizzy and disoriented. What little strength she had failed her, and she lost consciousness.

Grant had been getting ready to bed down when he heard the sound of someone moving in the underbrush. In a quick move, he threw dirt on the fire and grabbed his rifle as he dove for cover. He drew his sidearm and stayed down low, circling out away from the fading glow of the dying fire.

After several minutes’ search, he spotted what appeared to be an unconscious man, lying facedown in the dirt, not too far off. He was cautious as he closed in. He’d learned the hard way that things weren’t always what they seemed.

Grant thought he was ready for anything as he knelt beside the man and set his rifle aside.

He carefully turned him over, only to discover it wasn’t a man at all.

It was Dusty—

Not Dusty the way he remembered her, but unmistakably the same girl—

And she was alive—

Everything Miss Gertrude had told him about the hardships in her life went through his thoughts as he stared down at her limp form. It was obvious she’d been through hell these past days.

Grant quickly holstered his gun and gathered her up in his arms. He could feel the heat of her body as he held her close, and he realized she was burning up with a fever. After grabbing his rifle, he carried her back to the campsite and laid her gently on his bedroll. He tried to make her comfortable on his blanket. He built the fire back up so he could see what he was doing, then checked her over for any injuries she might have suffered. He found her head wound right away and knew she was lucky to be alive. When he found no other injuries, he was relieved. He set to work cleaning up her wound and then soaked his handkerchief to wipe down her face and neck, hoping to cool her off and wash away some of the grime from her long days in captivity.

He found himself wondering how she’d managed to escape from the outlaws. She was proving herself to be an amazing woman, just as Miss Gertrude had claimed. He lifted his gaze to stare off into the darkness, wondering if the outlaws might be coming after her. If they were, it would give him the perfect opportunity to trap them, but he seriously doubted the killers would waste their time.
They had to know a posse from town was on their trail and that after escaping, Dusty would head back toward Canyon Springs. No, with the amount of money they’d stolen, it was logical for them to keep riding. They could buy themselves all the female companionship they needed at the next town they decided to stop in. They wouldn’t risk their chance to make a clean getaway chasing after one girl.

Momentarily satisfied that there was no immediate danger, Grant concentrated on doctoring Dusty as best he could. He hoped she was strong enough to fight off the fever that gripped her. Throughout the long hours of the night, he stayed close by her side, watching over her.

“No, Papa! No!”

Her frantic cry jarred Grant awake in the hours just before dawn, and he quickly went to Dusty as she struggled to sit up in her delirium.

“Easy—” he said in a gentle voice as he took her in his arms, wanting to calm her terror.

“They shot him! They killed him!” she sobbed in her feverish, mindless torment. The confusion she was feeling showed in her eyes. She tried to focus, but the power of the fever left her disoriented and completely lost. She stared up at the man who was holding her. The dark shadow of several days’ growth of beard along his hard, lean jaw gave him a dangerous look, and she suddenly fought against his hold on her. “Let me go!”

“Dusty, you’re safe—”

“Where am I? Who—?”

“It’s me—Grant. No one’s going to hurt you,” he assured her.

“Grant—” Dusty went still at his words. She believed she was only dreaming about her hero coming to save her. She felt certain that any second she was going to wake up and find herself a captive of the Jackson gang again. She closed her eyes against the misery of the thought.

“Dusty—Dusty girl, you’re going to be all right. I’ve got you now.”

The delirium of the fever overwhelmed her, and she faded into unconsciousness again.

Grant set to work once more, trying to cool her down, hoping the fever would ease up soon.

But it didn’t.

Dawn found Grant still vigilantly at Dusty’s side. As he watched the sunrise, he knew just how lucky she’d been to make it to his campsite. The thought of what might have happened to her if she’d lost consciousness all alone in the wilderness troubled him. Luckily, he’d been in the right place at the right time last night. He was thankful that he’d been there to help her, but he knew he was losing valuable time in tracking down the gang. There were no towns close by, so it was up to him to nurse her until she was strong enough to ride double with him. When she did get her strength back, he would take her to the nearest settlement and leave her there, where he knew she’d be safe, while he continued the hunt for Jackson and his men.

It was late in the day when Dusty began to stir. She opened her eyes to find the sun low in the
western sky. Her thoughts were confused, and she frowned as she tried to figure out what had happened to her. The last thing she could remember was seeing a campfire in the distance and hoping it was the posse’s campsite. She moved slightly, wanting to sit up, and realized she was lying on a blanket. Startled, she raised herself up on one elbow and fought off a wave of dizziness as she looked around. It was obvious the outlaws hadn’t caught up with her for she wasn’t restrained in any way, but there seemed to be no one around. She was alone. Bewildered, she managed to sit up as she tried to come to grips with all that had happened to her.

It was then she heard the familiar voice behind her.

“So you’re finally stirring—”