The Texan's Reward (42 page)

animals. He must be cracking up, but after days alone, it felt good to hear a voice, even if it was his own. The

note Harrison had left with the supplies said Dr. McClellan would be coming in on the last train. Jacob admired

the doctor. It would be good to see them, even if it was from a distance.

He pul ed his hat low as he climbed onto the horse and rode off, enjoying the wind in his face.

When Jacob moved into the shadows beside the station, the train had just pul ed in. He’d noticed Nel ’s buggy at

the far end of the platform. Harrison must already be waiting to help the doctor and his wife with the luggage.

Suddenly, the horses harnessed to Nel ’s buggy bolted. He first thought he’d have to strangle Harrison for driving

so carelessly, but then he realized something had to be wrong. The people hadn’t had time to get off the train,

and two men in black rain slickers sat on the driver’s seat of the buggy.

As it gal oped past him, Jacob caught a glimpse of someone on the back bench wrapped in blankets. Surely

Harrison hadn’t loaned the buggy out only minutes before the doctor arrived.

He rode closer to the platform, but the fog made the people standing around seem more like ghosts than real.

Something was wrong; he could feel it.

Jacob was almost to where the buggy had been tied when he saw Harrison. The ranger moved closer and started

to dismount, when he caught a glimpse of the terror in the bookkeeper’s expression.

“What is it?” Jacob yelled. “Someone steal that rattle-trap of a buggy?”

Harrison nodded once. “Nell was in it.”

Jacob pulled his horse hard into a turn as fury galloped through his veins. “Get the sheriff and follow. I’ll go after her.”

He didn’t know if Harrison heard him. Several others surrounded the bookkeeper, all talking at once. Jacob

thought he saw the doctor and his wife, but he didn’t take time to check. If Nel was in the buggy, he had to get

to her fast.

The buggy headed out on the road he’d just come from, so Jacob had no problem following. They were away

from the lights of town by the time he caught up with it.

“Stop!” he yelled from twenty feet behind.

Gunfire answered his demand.

Jacob pul ed his horse and put some distance between them. With one man driving and one firing, it wouldn’t

be wise to get too close. The man riding shotgun would be firing back with Nell directly in the line of fire.

The ranger swung off the road. He might be able to get ahead of them and pick the two men off with a few

shots, but then the buggy would be out of control and Nel would never be able to climb from the back to the

front.

He couldn’t risk exchanging any more gunfire. Not with Nel in the buggy. His only option was to follow and see

where the men were going.

Within minutes their destination was obvious. The Stockard place.

When they turned off the main road, Jacob saw the buggy rock and knew Nel must be in great pain. Every time

she rode in the buggy everyone around her took great care to protect her. These men had no idea they might be

killing her.

Anger boiled in Jacob. He wanted to ride in and take both men on, but he had to pick his time for Nel ’s sake.

The trail up to the dugout was rough, so the men had to slow the buggy. Jacob waited, knowing there was no

way he could fol ow without being an easy target. The fog offered him some cover, but not sufficient to get close

enough for a clear shot.

“Wait,” he mumbled to himself, pul ing his years of training into play when all he wanted to do was storm

forward. “Wait.” One thing he’d learned was that in every standoff there came a window—a second—when he

would have the advantage. One chance. His ability to take that chance had kept him alive.

Only this time Nell was in danger.

He moved as close as he could. They knew he was somewhere watching. They’d be prepared. And so would he.

Waiting for the window.

NELL FOUGHT THROUGH THE PAIN AND TRIED TO focus. The buggy had final y stopped. She hadn’t died from

the ride. She was surprised. The blankets had protected her some, but al she wanted to do was curl up and cry.

Her back felt like it was on fire.

“Miss Nell,” a voice shouted. “Nice of you to drop by.”

She forced herself to open her eyes. Walter Farrow stood beside the buggy smelling heavily of whiskey. The two

cowboys behind him couldn’t be much older than twenty, but their faces looked distorted with pride in the

wrong they’d done. “What do you want?” Nell managed to say.

Walter leaned close, flicking a match with his thumb before lighting the lantern latched to the side of the buggy.

“The fellows just thought you’d want to come out here and have a little private talk.” His words were smooth,

but the light made his fat face look twisted and evil. “It’s about time you came to me. Every time I come to you,

there are always too many people around for us to get to know one another. In fact, I made a visit to your place

tonight and was surprised to find you absent.”

His smile made her skin crawl.

“When we saw you waiting in the wagon, you fell right into my plans for tonight.”

Nel looked around. This had to be the Stockard place, but she saw no sign of Jacob. Knowing her ranger, he left

little trace when he was staying somewhere. But where was he now?

She looked over to the north where the ground turned rocky and jagged. He’d be there. As close to her as he

could get without being seen. She could feel him, and somehow his nearness gave her the strength she needed.

“What do you want to talk about, Mr. Farrow, that can’t wait until a proper time?” She saw no point in

reminding him that his men had kidnapped her.

He swayed and smiled. “How about we stop playing games, Nel . I know why you’ve been stal ing selling me this

place.”

“Al right, why?” She watched the two young cowboys. They were standing a few feet away listening.

“You found a clue to Zeb Whitaker’s gold. I had to find the one in the painting myself, but it’s no good without

others,” Farrow hissed. “Hand your clue over. You know it should be mine.”

“What!” Nel yel ed. She’d been trying to guess why he’d brought her here, but Zeb Whitaker or his gold had

never crossed her mind. “I have no gold, and I have no clue.”

Farrow smiled and pulled a twenty dollar gold coin from his pocket. “That preacher who lives with you had this.

So, you know something.”

Nell finally understood. Farrow didn’t want the ranch, or even to marry her; he wanted the gold. “I have nothing.

The preacher only found a coin, nothing more.”

He didn’t look like he believed her.

“I don’t know about any gold.” She watched him frown and knew she’d better act fast.

“Maybe not,” he shrugged. “But you know it’s near. I thought the preacher might have some idea, but he didn’t

seem too willing to talk.”

“I’ll sell you the ranch.” Nell sensed Walter’s madness. Maybe if she promised him the ranch, he’d let her go.

He smiled. “No longer necessary. You see, I’ve become friends with the people in town. Your lawyer, for one. He

told me an interesting fact. It seems you visited him after your accident and made out a will leaving most of your

property to friends. Only . . .” He raised one fat finger. “You left this place to the town. So you see, Miss Nell, if you died, I could buy what I want without any trouble.

“I know the gold is here on this property somewhere, and with you gone, I’l have al the time in the world to

look for it.”

“You’d kil me in the hope of finding gold that’s been lost for years?”

Walter Farrow laughed. “I’d kill you for far less. I’m not a man who allows people to insult me.”

That was it, she realized. He might want the land and even Whitaker’s gold, but what pushed the lawyer over

the edge was simply the fact that a cripple had turned him down in marriage. She’d seen it in his eyes that day—

a promise to get even—and tonight, he had his chance.

“But, my dear, I’m not going to kil you. The whole town talks about you. About how crazy you are. Poor little

bastard crippled girl who takes in strays no one wants. Folks even know about how you try to swim in the river.

Only, tonight you’l go beyond where you can touch bottom, and they’l find your body where the river bends.”

“You’ll never get away with it,” she whispered.

Farrow reached in and tried to pat her cheek. “Oh, but my dear, we already have. Your friend the bookkeeper

will never get here in time. I’ve already taken care of the misfits at your house, and then there is your ranger. I’m

planning on him showing up to try to save you. But don’t worry; no one will ever find his body. As far as they

know, he’s already been gone for days.”

Walter Farrow glanced into the shadows by the dugout. Nell followed his gaze and saw them, a dozen or more

men, waiting. “We’l be ready for him. If he steps out close enough to be seen, he’s a dead man.”

Nell could barely breathe. The lawyer had it all planned. He must have been waiting for days to pull this off. The

rain had slowed him down.

“We’re wasting time.” Farrow pointed to one of the men. “Take her to the river.”

“Alone?” the tall cowboy said.

“She’s crippled, what’s she going to do, jump out?” Farrow laughed again. “Just toss her in somewhere that the

current is strong. You’re not kil ing her; the river wil do that.” He nodded to the men in the shadows of the

dugout. “You’l have plenty of company, but they’l be riding out of sight, waiting for the ranger to show up.”

The tall man hesitated.

“I’l see your share is a hundred more when we find the gold.”

The man nodded and climbed in the buggy.

“Make it fast down the hil . I don’t want you running into the sheriff just in case that old dog was smart enough

to follow.”

Nel fought down panic as men saddled up around her and vanished into the fog.

A hundred yards away, Jacob rushed back to his horse. He hadn’t been close enough to hear anything, but he

could tell they were getting ready to move.

When he slid down the incline to where he’d left Dusty, he saw a man swing down from a mount. Jacob rol ed

and pul ed his Colt as the shadow whispered, “Ranger, is that you?”

Jacob stood. “Hank?”

The boy nodded and moved out from between the horses. “I was hoping to find you. A few days ago the

preacher told me where you were.”

“Why didn’t you ride up to the dugout?”

“I figured there were too many people up there, so I thought I’d hide out here. Then I spotted your horse.” He

patted Dusty’s neck. “We got to be friends when I was packing you home.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Two men are holding Gypsy and Wednesday at the house. I heard Wednesday crying and snuck down to see

what was up. The preacher was on the floor, maybe dead. I didn’t know what was going on, but I figured I’d

better come get you.”

“You did right, kid.” Jacob swung into the saddle. “I may need your help. You coming?”

The boy pul ed onto his horse. “Al the way,” he answered.

Jacob stayed back until he heard the buggy pass at top speed. He had no idea where they were taking Nel this

time, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be home. He fol owed, waiting for his chance.

“Stay in the shadows, Hank,” he whispered, “Or you’l be a dead man.”

Nel fought to hold on as they bounced over the rough road. She thought of the gun by her bed and the other in

the main room of her house. Harrison and Jacob had given them to her for protection, and she’d left them both

at home.

She had to do something fast. A sudden bump sent her to the floor of the buggy. Her hand reached out for

something to hold onto, and she touched the leather belt Mrs. O’Daniel used to hold her up.

Nel grabbed the leather with one hand and gripped the seat in front of her with the other. Using all her

strength, she stood and whirled the belt at the driver’s head.

She heard a yelp, and felt the buggy shift as the cowboy tumbled out.

Nel fel backward, unable to stand a moment longer. Suddenly, she was in her nightmare. The horses were wild

with fear, the road turned just ahead, and they were running toward it at ful speed. She felt the pain in her back

as the buggy ran out of control. Nel closed her eyes and cried for Jacob when the horses missed the turn and

the buggy rolled.

Nell tumbled out, flying weightless through the air for a moment before slamming hard into the earth.

Jacob saw all of it from the edge of the tree line. The driver tumbling out, Nell falling back into the buggy too far

away to reach the reins, then the buggy capsizing and her body hitting the earth.

Jacob jerked his rifle out. “Ride down to the main road and tell the sheriff where we are.” He was surprised how

normal his words sounded when he knew his heart was in his throat. “I’m going to Nell.”

“But you’l be cut down.” Hank’s voice was high with panic. “She may already be dead.”

“Then bury us side by side,” Jacob yel ed as he kicked his horse and thundered at ful speed directly toward Nel .

He made it to within ten feet of her before a bul et stopped Dusty. Jacob rol ed as the horse fel then was on his

feet running. When he reached Nel ’s crumpled body, he had no time to see if she stil breathed. He stood above

her and fired at every shadow that moved.

They were al around him and stil on horseback. The fog had cleared some but played tricks with the shadows.

Jacob felt a bul et hit his arm. Another bushed his ear, knocking his hat off, but he didn’t stop firing. He’d fight