Relentless (9 page)

With what little strength she had, Dusty held on tight as they raced away from the site of the robbery. Dark despair filled her. Unless the passengers managed to somehow get loose, she knew it would be long hours before anyone even discovered the stage had been robbed and her father and Matt killed. She thought about trying to throw herself from the horse’s back, but the outlaw had both arms around her, so there would be no getting away. In silent agony, she grieved over her father’s death.

Les led the way as they covered the long miles. He figured they would have close to a full day’s head start on any posse that came after them, so he was feeling confident they would get clean away. When they stopped for the first time to water the horses, he dismounted and then reached up to drag the girl down out of the saddle.

“Don’t even think about trying anything,” he warned.

Dusty looked around and knew there was no possibility of escape right now, so she quietly went
down to the water to get a drink and to wash some of the dried blood from her face. It wasn’t easy with her hands tied, but she did her best.

Ugly Joe was eyeing their prisoner as he walked over to Les. She didn’t look like much of a female. “So, why did you bring her along, Les?”

“I already told you—don’t you go worrying about my plans for her.”

“She will slow us down,” Cale put in, repeating Ugly Joe’s concern.

“She ain’t slowed us down yet, has she?” Les countered angrily.

“You ain’t got no place to keep her,” Ugly Joe said.

“You’re right. I don’t. I didn’t bring her along for me. She’s part of the loot we just robbed from the stage.”

“What are you talking about?” Cale asked.

“Eduardo at the cantina is looking for some new girls. He told me he’d pay real good if I brought him some down—especially if they were virgins.”

“So you ain’t planning on sharing her with us?” Cale asked. He’d thought at least they were going to have their fun with the little gal.

“Oh, no. She’s worth a lot of money, and I plan to collect it.” Les was smiling at the thought. “Now, let’s ride. We got more important things to worry about. Like making sure there are no Rangers on our tail.”

They mounted up and rode out again, not stopping for the night until it was almost dark. They
built a small campfire, and Les forced Dusty to sit beside him there. Cale dug out the dried meat they’d brought along, and Les took some from him and held it out to her.

“Eat.”

Dusty looked up at him, all the hatred she was feeling for her captor burning in her eyes. “No,” she said defiantly.

Les had expected as much, and he smiled coldly at her. “You’ll eat this or I’ll shove it down your throat—and I don’t think you want me to do that.” His expression turned menacing.

Dusty had no doubt the outlaw would do exactly what he threatened. She also knew that if she wanted to have any hope of escaping, she needed to eat to keep her strength up. It was hard enough dealing with the pain and dizziness she was suffering. In disgust, she took the offered meat from him and ate it quickly. After they’d finished the food, Les got up and came back with his rope. He sat back down near her.

“Stick your arms out,” he ordered.

Les quickly tied the rope to the length that he’d already used to bind her wrists. He tied the other end to his own arm.

“I want to make sure you stay nice and close to me all night.” The rope was long enough for her to take care of her needs without his having to stand over her, but if she tried to get away in the middle of the night, he’d know.

Ugly Joe was chuckling as he got his bottle of whiskey out of his saddlebags and took a deep drink.
“Yes, sir, things couldn’t have turned out any better today. We did real good. I feel like doing some celebrating.”

“I’m with you on that,” Cale agreed, grabbing the bottle from Ugly Joe when he held it out. He took a swallow and passed it on to their leader. “Here, Les.”

Les enjoyed a drink and handed it back to Ugly Joe. “That’s some good whiskey, but don’t go drinking too much. We have to ride out at sunup.”

They grumbled at his order, but knew he was right.

“Do you think Jim’s going to be able find us?” Ugly Joe wondered.

“It’s hard to say,” Les answered.

“We were lucky we didn’t need the extra gun today.”

“Yeah, but with him not being here, that’s more money for us!” Ugly Joe grinned greedily at the thought.

“Right,” Cale agreed. He was going to enjoy doing some serious gambling as soon as he got the chance. He knew it was going to be a while, though. He and his buddies had to make sure the law wasn’t closing in on them before they could really let themselves relax and have a good time.

Les tossed a small blanket at Dusty as he got ready to bed down close by. “Cale, you keep first watch.”

The other gunman moved away from the fire to sit in the darkness and keep a lookout for trouble. Les didn’t think there was any posse close by, but it was better to post a guard and be sure.

Dusty wrapped herself in the blanket and sought what comfort she could find on the hard ground. Sadness and fear overwhelmed her, and she began to cry. She fought to stifle the sobs that wracked her as she thought of her father and Matt. She supposed she ought to be grateful to be alive, but she wondered how fortunate she really was. She had overheard what the outlaw leader had planned for her, and she wondered what new horrors awaited her. In the darkness of the night, she began to pray desperately, begging for help and the strength to get through this.

At dawn, the outlaws were up and riding out. They wouldn’t rest again until nightfall.

Grant slept later than usual that morning. He had stayed at the saloon late the night before, drinking and gambling a bit to fit in, and hoping to learn something about the outlaws, but he hadn’t heard a thing. His mood was tense as he got up and dressed. He wasn’t a man used to waiting for trouble. Trouble usually found him, and just sitting there in Canyon Springs waiting for Les and his boys to show up was testing his patience. He knew the information he’d received about their meeting place had been reliable. He told himself to relax, that the outlaws would eventually show up.

Grant left the hotel and headed over to the general store to get the supplies he was going to need when he did finally ride out. As he was about
a block away from the store, he noticed a young boy rush out of the place and run on down the street to the stable. The boy seemed to be frantic about something, and Grant wondered what was going on. He found out as soon as he stepped through the door.

“I can’t believe it!” exclaimed Alice Jones, the clerk at the store, her expression horrified as she spoke with the other ladies who were there.

“It can’t be—It just can’t be—”

Grant recognized the voice of the little lady who was standing with her back to him. It was Miss Gertrude. He could hear the heartbreak in her voice and wondered what had happened. He immediately went to her side.

“Miss Gertrude—Is something wrong?” he asked, seeing the tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Oh, Grant—I didn’t know you were still in town. Somehow, you always do manage to show up at the right time—” she said in a choked voice.

He couldn’t help himself. He put a protective arm around her shoulders as he looked at the two other women standing there with her. “What happened?”

“The stage was robbed and Charley Martin and the man riding shotgun were both killed—” Alice began.

Grant tensed at the news.

“The telegram came in just a short while ago—” Betty added.

Miss Gertrude touched his arm as she explained the rest. “And they’ve kidnapped Dusty—”

“Dusty?” Grant frowned, not recognizing the name.

“She didn’t tell you?” Miss Gertrude realized that Dusty must have kept her other life hidden from him the night of the dance. “Justine’s nickname is Dusty.”

Grant’s expression hardened. “She was on the stagecoach?”

Miss Gertrude quickly explained the truth of Dusty’s life to him. “It’s been hard for her since her mother died, riding shotgun on the stage with her father, but she did it and he was proud of her. And now—”

He couldn’t imagine the beauty he’d danced with in the hands of an outlaw gang. “Where did the holdup take place?”

“At the pass,” Betty said. “From what the boy was telling us, they think it was that notorious Jackson gang.”

Grant grew furious. While he’d been waiting for the outlaws to show up in town, they’d managed to pull off a deadly robbery and take the girl with them.

“We have to let Fred know,” Alice put in, knowing her boss and his family needed to know what had happened.

“This is going to break Francie’s little heart.” Miss Gertrude looked even more miserable at the news.

Betty went on, “Supposedly, the sheriff’s going to get a posse together, but the outlaws already have a full day’s head start on them—”

“Sheriff Perkins is useless,” Miss Gertrude declared. “He’ll never be able to find Dusty, not after all this time. Why, he couldn’t find his own way home if he didn’t have directions. He’ll never be able to track them down—”

“Now, Miss Gertrude,” Alice scolded.

“Don’t ‘Now, Miss Gertrude’ me,” she countered angrily. “I can’t tell you how many times he’s gone after some troublemaker and come back emptyhanded.”

“If you ladies will excuse me,” Grant said, leaving abruptly.

Miss Gertrude watched him stride purposefully from the store.

“I wonder why he left like that,” Alice said.

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” Miss Gertrude told her as she hurried after him.

Betty looked at Alice. “Poor Dusty.”

“I hope they can find her and bring her back.”

“I do, too.”

“One of us should go tell Francie and her family what’s happened.”

“I’ll go,” Betty offered, knowing it was going to be a difficult conversation.

Grant was headed straight back to the hotel. He wasn’t going to bother with talking to the local lawman. From what Miss Gertrude had said, it would be a waste of his time, and he’d already done enough of that.

“Grant—Wait—” Miss Gertrude called out. She’d thought he might be going over to help the sheriff, but it looked as if he was going to the hotel.

He stopped at her call and waited respectfully for her to catch up with him.

“Where are you going? The sheriff’s office is the other way,” she pointed out. She’d always sensed that this man was something more than just a drifter passing through town, and she had a feeling she was about to find out his real purpose in coming to Canyon Springs.

“If the sheriff’s as bad at tracking as you say he is, I’m not waiting for him.” Grant reached in his pocket and took out his badge to pin it on.

Gertrude’s eyes widened as she gazed up at him. “You’re a Ranger—”

“Yes, ma’am, and I’m going after Les Jackson.”

A look of pride came into her eyes as she saw his fierce determination. “I knew there was something special about you from the first time I laid eyes on you.” She took him by the arm and pulled him down to her so she could kiss his cheek. “Find Dusty, Grant. Bring her back home.”

“I will,” he promised her.

With that, he strode off toward the hotel to get his belongings.

He’d lost enough time already.

Less than twenty minutes later, Grant rode out of Canyon Springs.

Over an hour later, Francie was still in her mother’s arms, crying hysterically as her father packed
his saddlebags getting ready to ride out of town with the posse.

“We’re going to need your prayers,” Fred told his wife and daughter. “With the big lead they’ve got on us, I don’t know if we’ll be able to find them or not.”

Francie lifted her head to look at her father. “You have to find her, Papa! You have to!” She left her mother’s embrace and went to hug her father. “Please, please tell me you’re going to find her!”

Fred held her to his heart as he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m going to do my best, Francie. If we can find her, we will.”

“Who all is riding with you?” Marlene asked.

“So far, I’ve heard that Rick will join us, and several of the businessmen from town. I think some of the ranchers are even sending a few of their hands to help us, so we should have enough guns in case we do manage to catch up with the Jackson gang. It’s just taking Sheriff Perkins so long to put the posse together. Every minute counts right now, and the sheriff is slow—”

“I know,” Francie said in an emotion-choked voice. “I wish I could ride with you and help.”

“No, darling,” her father said seriously, “you stay right here with your mother, so I know you’re safe.” He lifted his gaze to look at his wife. “I’d better get back over to the jail. There’s no telling what time we’ll be riding out.”

Marlene went into his arms to give him a kiss. Fred gave Francie a fatherly hug and then grabbed up his rifle and saddlebags and left the house to mount up and ride away.

Francie stood in the doorway with her mother, fighting desperately to control her tears as she watched her father leave. “They have to find her, Mother—They have to! Who knows what those outlaws might do to Dusty!”

Marlene understood her daughter’s fear for her friend. She felt the same way. Dusty was a gentle, caring young woman who had been through some real hard times in her life. It seemed so unfair that tragedy had struck again—Marlene was sickened by the thought.

“The best thing we can do is to pray for Dusty. We’ll pray that she is safe and that the posse can track the gang down and rescue her.”

Francie looked up at her mother, knowing she was right. “She’s got to come back—”

Marlene hugged her daughter again and offered up a silent prayer for Dusty’s safety.

When Fred reached the jail, he found Sheriff Perkins standing out in front with about nine other men, including Rick. They had their horses and their gear, and they looked like they were ready to ride.

“Perkins, when are we leaving?” Fred demanded. “Every minute counts right now! They killed Charley and Matt and they’ve kidnapped Dusty!”