Trail of Golden Dreams (15 page)

She wondered how
many men he’d killed in his lifetime. Was he really a miner, like he’d told
her?  Or was he an outlaw? Was that why he dressed all in black? Or was it
just an image he wanted to portray?  She’d seen him express some tender
moments in the last few days like sharing his blanket and caring for the
newborn lamb.  He treated his horse like family, too.  Even her mule
seemed to have grown on him.  Grey scratched Traveler’s neck every so
often, and she’d caught him talking to Lightning more than once.  This had
surprised her, since she thought no one but her talked to her animal.

She replayed the
gunfire over and over in her head. Grey’s first shot had hit Mr. Bailey
squarely in the chest.  The second shot had gone wild.  Thank God the
third had connected with the preacher.  If it hadn’t, she felt sure the
old man would have murdered them both.  When the firing had started, Grey
had pushed her out of harm’s way.  She’d hidden behind Lightning with her
gun aimed, ready to kill the preacher herself, if she had to.  Lucky for
her, it hadn’t come to that. 

As she thought
about it now, she questioned whether she could have really pulled the trigger. 
Killing a man took guts and the ability to walk away without looking back. What
if Grey hadn’t been so quick to kill?  Could she have put a hole in the
preacher? Yes, she realized.  She would have done whatever it took to save
Grey and herself.

Her eyes sprang
open at the sound of shuffling hooves.  A big lazy moon smiled down from
the starry sky, showering the ground with moonlight.  A line of horsemen
appeared against the horizon briefly and then vanished.  Josie smothered a
gasp and reached inside her pants pocket for her derringer. 

“Grey!” she
whispered. 

He didn’t stir.

With her teeth
clenched tight, she stared into the dark and listened for more sounds, and
wondering if it had been a trick of the shadows she saw.  “Grey!” she
choked out again, this time louder. 

When he didn’t
rouse, she quietly crawled out from underneath her skirt, flattened herself on
the ground, and slinked over to him on her stomach like a snake.  She
placed her hand over his mouth and shook his arm.

“Shhh,” she warned. 
“It’s me, don’t talk loud.”  After his eyes fluttered open, she removed
her hand from his mouth.

“Why the hell are
you waking me up, Josie?” he whispered back.

“I just saw
something that spooked me. I hope it’s not Marshal Kendall finally catching up
to us.”

That got Grey’s
attention.  He ripped his revolver out of its holster and cocked the
hammer.  “Where?” he asked.

She pointed. 
“Out there.”

They both tilted
their heads, but she heard nothing but lizards scurrying around and the fire
crackling.

“Maybe you were
mistaken.  Do you think you were dreaming?” he asked.

She shook her
head.  “I was wide awake.  I saw horsemen lined up in a row.  I
swear it.  Maybe it’s not the marshal.  Do you think it could be a
hunting party?” 

“Not at night,” he
said.  “Nothing moves around here except jackrabbits and Indians.”

“Do you think it
was a jackrabbit?” she asked, hopeful.  She didn’t know which was worse,
Indians or the posse, unless the Indian was Taza, which she highly doubted. Her
lips and hands trembled, either from fright or from cold.  She wasn’t sure
which.

“Be quiet.” 
He put a finger to his mouth.  “Did you see that?”

She snuggled close
to his arm and glanced around.  “What?”

“A movement that
wasn’t part of the sagebrush.”  Grey scrambled to his knees and motioned
for her to do the same.  “Do you have your gun?” 

She showed him the
derringer in her hand.  This time, she did hear a sound—the snorting of
horses.  It came from behind them where Traveler and Lightning were
tied.  Relief melted off her shoulders like snow on a hot tin roof. 
“It’s our own animals,” she said, breathing a sigh.

“I’m not so sure
about that.” Grey stood, grasped her arm, and lifted her to her feet. 
“I’m getting a bad feeling.”

“Again?”

His gaze held her
in an iron grip.  “Let’s saddle up and go.”

“Now?” she
protested.  “I haven’t had any sleep.” 

“Would you rather
be tired or dead?”  Even in the dark, his eyes flamed like a hot skillet
over a campfire.

He didn’t wait for
her to answer.  In a few minutes, they’d saddled their mounts and struck
out in the dark.

* * * *

The sun was rising
behind the mountains when they stopped and hurriedly watered the animals in a
stream. They waded across the water and led the horse and mule by the reins up
a steep bank.  When they found a cottonwood tree with a double trunk, they
crept behind it.

“Do you think it
was the marshal and his men I saw last night?” Josie asked, hunkering beside
Grey. She was dead tired, hungry, shivering, and now her boots were soaked. The
ride through the night had been long and cold.  The wind raged, nearly
sweeping off her feet, and her face felt as dry as an
eggshell.   

“Yep. I don’t know
how they found us, but they did.  Reno King might be a good tracker, but
maybe he’s not such a sharpshooter.  They could have picked us off last
night, but for some reason, they’ve chosen to make their move now and attack us
in the daylight.  We’re gonna be ready for them.”  He pulled his
rifle out of its scabbard and sighted down the barrel.  His revolver was on
the ground next to him, where he could snatch it in a hurry. Josie held the
derringer up to her eye.

Scanning the
desert for sudden movement, she felt like they’d walked into a rattlesnake den.
Could the two of them hold off three men?  What good would her derringer
be from a distance? She wasn’t even that good of a shot up close.  She
searched Grey’s profile. It was lined in deep concentration.  His piercing
eyes were glued to the scrub near the stream below, and a muscle ticked along
his granite jaw. His chest rose and fell beneath his black shirt. On the
trigger was his finger, ready to squeeze. 

She hoped his
hands weren’t as cold as hers.  All night long hers had been half numb,
despite wearing gloves.  They were shaking now, too. She wiggled her
fingers and then offered up a quiet prayer.  “Lord, please keep my hands
from trembling and help me to hit my mark.”  From the corner of her eye,
she could see Grey glance at her.

Suddenly, down
below, a man stepped partway out of the brush carrying a shotgun on his
shoulder.  It was Reno King.  The wide brim of the black sombrero hid
his features, but Josie could sense danger emanate from him.  Del Emmerson
materialized about twenty feet from King with a pistol in his hand.  There
was no sign of Marshal Kendall.  Josie’s breath hitched, and her heart
pounded out of her chest. 

Grey didn’t wait
for them to make the first move.  He aimed and fired off a couple of
shots.  A volley of bullets answered his fire, but they all went wild.
When he peppered the ground and stream with more bullets, Josie saw Reno King
throw himself into the dirt and scramble behind the brush. Del splashed,
cat-footed, into the stream and disappeared. 

There was no time
for consultation between Josie and Grey.  Reno King fired off another
round from behind the bush.  The bullets whizzed past them.  One
slammed into the tree trunk and split it. 

“Get down!” Grey
shouted, pushing her out of the line of fire.  She was no good to him,
anyway.  Her derringer was jammed.  She banged it on the ground and
swore under her breath.  Grey and Reno King fired away at each other, and
there she was—useless!  She looked up just as the marshal appeared on the
right side of Grey, about fifty feet away, with his rifle raised. 
“Grey!  Look out!” she screamed.

He turned and squeezed
off two rounds, one whizzing past the marshal’s shoulder and one hitting the
ground at his feet.  When Kendall howled and fell backwards, Josie
realized Grey had shot him in the foot.  The man wasn’t going down without
a fight, however.  He flipped onto his belly, gritted his teeth, and fired
three more shots before rolling down the embankment.

More bullets flew
over their heads.  Obviously, the men below were not giving up.  When
Grey’s rifle ran out of ammunition, he tossed it on the ground and picked up
his revolver and used it to return fire.  When that gun jammed, he
frantically dug into his pockets for more rifle shells.

Hearing a sound to
her left, Josie’s head turned.  Del had crept up the other way.  He
pointed his pistol at her. For one fleeting second, she thought she saw
sympathy behind his eyes.  Time stood still as their gazes locked. 
She wondered if he was really going to kill her.  They’d known each other
all their lives, and he’d been sweet on her. Surely a handful of gold nuggets would
not be worth his old friend’s life.

He cocked the
pistol, and the hard expression returned to his face.  With no time to
think, Josie aimed her derringer and fired.  The pistol fell from Del’s
hand, and he peered down at the blood flowing out of him.  He was gut
shot, bleeding from a burning hole in his belly.  It was apparent from the
stunned expression on his face that he hadn’t expected her to shoot him. 
His hand splayed over his stomach, right before he dropped to the ground. 

Del wasn’t the only
one who was surprised.  Josie stared at the smoking derringer and mumbled,
“Thank you, Lord.”

“You alright?”
Grey asked, shaking her arm.

The shooting had
stopped.  When they heard horse hooves thundering away, he peeked over the
bank.  “King and Kendall are leaving.  Dammit!  I was hoping to
do more than shoot the marshal’s foot.”

Josie wasn’t
listening.  She crawled on her hands and knees to Del and leaned over his
body.  His eyes were wide open, staring at her with blame.  Her breaths
became ragged as she closed his eyelids with her fingertips.  A sickening
sweet taste filled her mouth, and she turned her head and retched. A few
moments later, when she felt Grey’s strong hands on her shoulders, the tears
began to fall.

“Are you alright?”
Grey repeated.

“No!” she cried,
facing him.  She wiped her mouth with her shirtsleeve.  “I’m not
alright.  I just murdered a friend, Grey.  I never killed anyone
before.  It doesn’t feel good.” She let the stress and anguish of the past
couple of days ripple out of her.  Her shoulders jiggled as full-fledged
sobs rocked her body. 

He let her cry for
a minute and then tipped her chin up.  “You had to do it, Josie. He left
you no choice. He would have killed
you
.”

“I know, but it
doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No.  It
doesn’t.  You’re right about that.”

“A person has to
be so hard to survive out here,” she sobbed.

Grey’s reply was
straightforward.  “We all do what needs to be done to keep above ground.”

My derringer
jammed,” she bawled. “I thought I was a goner when I saw that pistol pointed at
me.  It was a pure miracle my gun fired.”

He pushed some
stray tendrils of her hair off her face and wiped her tears away with his
finger.  His hands were as rough as sandpaper, but she didn’t care. 
His touch was kind and caring. 

“I thought they
were going to kill you,” she wheezed.  “Wade Kendall stole my pa and my
house from me.  He could have taken you from me, too.  Why does he
want me to suffer so?  He wants to line his pockets with my gold, but he
has no right!”  She buried her face in Grey’s broad chest.  “I don’t
know what I’d do without you, Grey.  If they’d done away with you, I
couldn’t have stood it.  There’s only so much a woman can take, and I
couldn’t take that.”  Her weeping began again.

He put his arms
around her and held her until she quieted.  “It’s done now,” he
said.  “We’re both alive, and we’re gonna stay that way.  They won’t
get me, or you.  I won’t let it happen.  That’s a promise.”

She pushed back
and saw the beginning of a smile, the crinkling of lines around the corners of
his dark eyes.  “Do you swear?” she asked.

He drew an
imaginary X across his heart.  “Swear.” 

She stifled
another sob and smiled up at him.

Without another
word, Grey pulled her toward him and kissed her lips. As his hold tightened
around her arms and waist, fire surged deep in her stomach.  She didn’t
know anything about passion.  All she ever wanted was to belong to
someone.  For the moment their lips were pressed to each other, she felt
the ache of loneliness lift and hope rekindled.  

After their mouths
parted, he continued to hold her.  She fit against him like a hand in a
glove. With his heart beating next to hers, she wondered how it would feel to
be with a man. 
This
man in particular, who was lean of body, and
hair she wanted to stroke, and skin she wanted to touch.  How would it
feel not to sleep alone?  To have someone to call your own, who would
always be there for you in good times and in bad? 

As he cradled her
a few moments longer, her lips formed his name in a prayerful whisper. 
Grey
Paladin
.  It was a name to hold onto in the dark.

When he finally
released her, he took her hand, helped her to her feet and said, “Let’s bury
your friend.”

* * * *

Grey didn’t know
what had come over him back there when he kissed her.  If he were
physically able, he would kick himself in the ass right now.  It had been
a big mistake, kissing her.  Now she would become emotionally attached to
him.  Women always did once they were kissed, and that would cause him
even bigger problems than he already had.  It was bad enough he’d promised
her a forty percent share of the gold.   Now he’d have to deal with
her blue moon eyes.  They would be a distraction.

If she hadn’t
cried in the first place, he wouldn’t have felt sorry for her.  He’d only
intended on comforting her with words, but her bawling had tugged at his
heartstrings. In all his life, he never liked to see a woman cry.