This Savage Heart (11 page)

Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Lonnie Bruce wouldn’t be able to take over Myles’s wagon tomorrow, but Myles had to take over Elisa’s, which meant someone else was going to have to help out. Who could be spared? Blast that woman, anyway. If she hadn’t caused Micah to run away…

“What started it?” he demanded of Lonnie Bruce in a tone that meant he wanted only the truth, and fast. “Why were you messing around his wagon?”

Lonnie Bruce lowered his eyes.

Derek waited. He never repeated himself, especially when he was in this kind of mood.

Intimidated, Lonnie Bruce began to speak, the words spilling forth nervously. “It was just a prank, and he got mad and started winging. Said I had no g.d. business messing around his wagon and started hitting me.”

Derek waited. It was not the explanation he wanted, and Lonnie Bruce knew it.

“It was the other guys,” he rushed on, tears springing to his eyes because he knew he was going to get it when his folks heard. “We were over in the rocks drinking from a bottle Hubie Taloe swiped from his father’s supply. When we ran out they dared me to get some from Mr. Vance’s wagon, ’cause we figured he’d have some, since he’s always drunk. So I went over there. He wasn’t around, so I climbed up into his wagon. He only had two crates in that big old thing. One was food and the other was whiskey. I just got two bottles, and that’s when he came up and caught me and started screaming. I tried to tell him I was just after whiskey. He could see I was holding two bottles, but he kept yelling, asking what I’d found, and then he started hitting me.”

Something was nagging at Derek, and he struggled to pinpoint just what it was. Esther Webber was sobbing because her son had been stealing whiskey. Lonnie Bruce’s father was threatening the boy with the worst beating of his life once he recuperated from his injuries. The others stood around talking, expressing opinions about the night’s excitement.

Derek touched a thoughtful finger to his mustache, eyes narrowed, jaw muscles tensing. He turned to watch covertly as Arlo Vance whipped his horses into a gallop and, wheels kicking up dirt, hurried from the camp.

Derek motioned to Thomas and Myles to follow him, and when they were out of hearing range of the others, he said tersely, “Don’t say anything to anyone. Get your horses and mount up. We’re going after Vance. We’ll wait till he’s a good distance from the camp, and then we’re going to stop him and search that wagon. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Thomas and Myles exchanged looks, and Myles whispered, “What are we looking for?”

“Guns,” Derek told them quietly.

Thomas echoed, “Guns? What makes you think he’s smuggling guns? Hell, he wasn’t carrying hardly anything in that big wagon.”

“Exactly.” Derek smiled. “But he has a large Conestoga, doesn’t he? Now why is he pulling a big, empty wagon? And why do you suppose Vance went into such a rage when he caught the boy in the wagon?”

“But where are the guns?” Myles wanted to know.

“False bottom,” Derek explained with a grim smile. “If I’m right, he’s carrying guns. He joined up with us so he wouldn’t arouse suspicion traveling alone. Alone in such a big wagon…with only two crates in it…”

Chapter Nine

Their impulse was to gallop ahead, but they held back, moving their horses cautiously as they strained to hear the sound of wagon wheels in the sand.

Derek had told them not to move on Vance until they were far enough from the camp that gunfire wouldn’t be heard. He didn’t want anyone getting curious and riding out to investigate. This was his job. He intended to do it without endangering others.

Ever alert, Derek glanced around in the black night, watching sprinkles of stars and gliding silver clouds. Wryly, he thought that each star was like an eye. There were so many at night. The sun was the giant star of day, fading at night to be cast out by thousands. He loved the desert and its tranquility. And, having acknowledged his love for Julie, something he had struggled against for so long rose within him. Derek knew peace.

He smiled to himself, thoroughly happy. Julie. Spirit. Beauty. Grace. Courage. She possessed, by God, everything he wanted. And he’d be damned if anything would stop him from having her for always.

“Arnhardt.”

His communion with himself was interrupted by Thomas’s soft whisper.

“If he is smuggling guns, what do we do?” Thomas whispered urgently. “Arrest him?”

Derek allowed his reins to relax. No need to hurry. This trail led straight to El Paso, and while he doubted that was where Vance was headed, he knew the road well enough to know it would be a while before he found a place where he and his wagon could cut off. “Detain him, is more like it,” Derek replied grimly. “We’ll confiscate the guns for our own use. I’d planned to buy more in El Paso, anyway. We’ll turn him over to the authorities there.”

Myles unleashed a low, guttural snarl. “If he’s smuggling guns to Indians, we should kill the son of a bitch and leave him for the buzzards.”

“We’ll leave his punishment up to the soldiers at Fort Bliss,” Derek said firmly. “All I’m interested in is confiscating the weapons he’s carrying. I’ll just assume he plans to sell them to Indians, yes.”

They rode on for a time. After a while, Myles felt the need to say what was on his mind. “I think you and I need to get a few things straight. I noticed—like everyone else—that you came riding in tonight with my sister.”

Derek gazed straight ahead. “Yes?”

Myles, unintimidated, rushed on, “I don’t want her hurt, and you seem to have a talent for doing that, so I’m going to ask you to stay away from her.”

“That’s going to be hard to do, Myles,” Derek said quietly. “I’m afraid I just can’t honor your request.”

Thomas looked at Derek in surprise. Was he actually smiling? Why? Derek Arnhardt didn’t goad men into fighting. He stated his position frankly, and if someone differed, then he was ready to defend his beliefs. But Derek never taunted a man into attacking.

Myles was on the brink of losing his temper. “It may be difficult for you to ignore her, since this journey throws everyone together so intimately, but you don’t have to take her off by yourself every chance you get. That’s what I’m talking about—the little trysts you seem to be having.”

Derek responded lightly, “I’m afraid those trysts are going to be more frequent, Myles.”

It was only with great effort that Myles was able to keep his tone low. “You aren’t going to honor my request? You’re pushing me, Arnhardt, and while you may be bigger than I am, I’ll not back off.”

Derek, unable to conceal his amusement any longer, chuckled. “Now, Myles, is that any way for you to talk to your future brother-in-law? After all, we may be living close to each other once we get where we’re going, and it would be nice if we could be one big, happy family.” He was grinning happily.

Myles was speechless but only for a second. “Brother-in-law? Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“Hey!” Thomas whispered urgently but was ignored.

Derek laughed. “I am. Tonight I asked Julie to be my wife, and she said yes.”

“Arnhardt—” Thomas’s voice was strained.

“I’d like for you to be my best man, but if you’re opposed to our marriage, then I suppose it would be awkward for you.”

“Opposed?” Myles was ecstatic and reached across to shake Derek’s hand eagerly. “I think it’s damn wonderful! I’ve known for some time Julie loved you, but—”

“Damn it, will you listen to me?”

They both looked at Thomas. “I don’t hear the wagon anymore.”

Silence prevailed. Each man strained to hear.

“He probably just got out of hearing range,” Thomas offered worriedly.

“No,” came Derek’s instant reply. “He couldn’t have gotten that far. Let’s move on, but cautiously. Don’t quicken the pace. If we don’t pick up the sound soon, then we’ll move faster.”

Derek bit his lip. Had Vance been able to hear them? Hell, they hadn’t been that close, but the horses’ hooves beat into the tiny rocks of the desert floor, and there was no other sound.

With each passing moment it became obvious that Arlo Vance’s wagon was not moving. Or had he moved out of their hearing?

Suddenly, an outline loomed ahead. The wagon. Derek reined his horse to an abrupt halt, and Thomas and Myles did the same, all being as still as possible.

Derek slid slowly from his saddle to the ground, and Myles and Thomas followed silently. There were a few boulders around, for they were at the base of a mountain. But for the most part, it was them, the wagon, and the open desert. “I’m moving closer,” Derek whispered. “Cover me if he starts shooting.”

Hunching so his body was nearly doubled over, Derek stepped away softly. When he was close enough to the wagon he saw that his unspoken hunch was right—one of the horses was missing. Still, that could be a trick. Having spotted a nearby boulder for cover, he darted behind it and broke the still of the night with his cry. “You’re covered, Vance. Throw down your gun and come out with your hands up.”

Silence was a thick, suffocating shroud. Derek waited, then hollered again. When there was no response, he fired a shot into the canvas covering over the wagon, figuring that would bring Vance out fast enough.

Nothing happened except for the horses’ nervous shuffling. Derek ran quickly to the wagon and threw open the canvas. No one was inside. “He’s gone,” he called out to Myles and Thomas, who hurried toward him. “He figured out he was being followed and abandoned the wagon. Now, let’s take a look. If my guess is wrong, though, why did he abandon the wagon?” Hoisting himself up into the wagon, he began yanking at the thin wooden flooring, and within seconds the cache of guns was uncovered. Gleaming, oiled metal.

“Whew, would you look at that!” Thomas shook his head, eyes wide. “Lord, I’m shaking just to think of it.”

“It makes me want to rip him to pieces,” Myles hissed. “To think he was riding with us, passing himself off as one of us, and all the time he was bringing Indians the very guns that would have slaughtered us. Damn it, let’s go after him. When the others hear about this, there’ll be a lynching.”

Derek was paying no attention to Myles’s outburst. “There must be two or three hundred rifles here,” he surmised. “Maybe more. He was going to make himself a nice profit. Indians pay in gold or silver, I’ve heard.”

“Let’s go after him!” Myles was shaking. “We can’t let him get away.”

Thomas spoke up quickly. “I’m with Myles. We can’t let him get away. He’ll only go after more guns. This loss won’t put him out of business.”

“It might,” Derek said matter-of-factly, climbing down out of the wagon and brushing his hands against his thighs. Just touching those guns made him feel tainted. “The Indians will be plenty mad to find out they aren’t getting what was promised. He’ll have to lay low for a while. It isn’t worth our time to go after him. I don’t imagine this is his first trip. He probably knows his way around these parts, and there’s no telling where he’s hiding now. Right now I want to get this wagon back to camp, and then I want us to move and get to Fort Bliss as soon as possible. The Army needs to know about this—and we need to get out of this territory.”

Myles stared at him and cried, “You mean you’re going to just let him get away?”

It had been a long night. “He’s only one man,” Derek snapped. “I’ve got the whole damn wagon train to look after, and right now, what matters is getting those people to El Paso. We’ve got the guns. Let the Indians deal with Vance. He’s no doubt going to be running from us
and
from them. It’ll keep him out of trouble for a while. Now let’s get going.”

Myles and Thomas looked at each other and then looked away. Arnhardt was probably right.

Above, out of sight on an overhanging ledge, Arlo Vance lay on his belly, watching the scene below. As he listened, his fingers had trembled on the triggers of the guns he held in each hand. How he had wanted to shoot, to watch them bleed and writhe in agony on the ground as they resisted eternity. But no. That would be taking a chance. He might not have been able to hit all three of them. He wasn’t about to make a stand alone.

Well, they had the guns, but they didn’t have him, and he could always get more guns. Arlo Vance watched them until they were out of sight. A coyote on a faraway ledge cried out, a long wail, intensifying and echoing across the desert.

Chapter Ten

On the landing at the top of the stairs, Julie stood watching the gaily decorated lobby. The people of El Paso were welcoming the wagon train with a warmth that far surpassed previous celebrations.

Directly below, Derek stood with the others, resplendent in a pale blue suit, a red velvet string tie at the collar of his stiff, white shirt. She smiled, thinking of his ruggedness on the trail, contrasted with seeing him dressed like a distinguished doctor or lawyer.

As she watched, Julie noted the admiring glances of the other women. Two young girls stood to one side, exchanging whispered giggles. One stepped to Derek’s side, tossing cascades of blond curls as she engaged him in conversation.

He’s mine, Julie thought joyfully, for always and always. How she wanted to run down the stairs and throw herself in his powerful arms.

Suddenly aware that someone was beside her, Julie turned toward Teresa. How tired she looks, Julie thought, so drawn, so haggard. She hoped a few days in a hotel would ease Teresa a little.