23

In a heartbeat Alonzo was on his feet and sprinting after the old lawman. A voice in his head screamed at him to stop but he kept running. It was almost as if his body moved on its own.

“Look there!” Weasel Ginty hollered. “They’re tryin’ to get away!”

Alonzo expected to hear the boom of a gun and feel a slug core his body. He zigzagged so he’d be harder to hit. But no shots thundered, and to his amazement, he reached the woods unscathed.

A glance back showed Burt Alacord, Weasel, and Ira Fletcher in pursuit.

Grissom and Jenna had stopped arguing and were staring in surprise. There was no sign of Willy Boy and the Prussian.

Alonzo concentrated on running and nothing else. Jacob Stone had pulled ahead, even with his leg wound. For a man his age, he could really move. Alonzo sought to catch up but the brush and logs and other obstacles slowed him. He weaved, he ducked, he leaped, he tore loose from briars that hooked in his clothes.

His chest was hammering, his blood roared in his veins. He was positive that if the outlaws caught him, they would eventually kill him, no matter what Jenna wanted. Jenna. He felt guilty for abandoning her, but his life was at stake, not hers. Cal Grissom would never let harm befall his daughter.

A tree loomed.

Alonzo darted around it and almost collided with Stone, who had stopped and tilted his head, listening.

“Down!” the old lawman hissed, and dropped flat.

“What?” Alonzo said. To him it made more sense to keep running, to put as much distance as they could between them and the outlaws. He nearly yelped when Stone knocked his legs out from under him. The next he knew, he was flat on his back.

“Don’t move,” Stone said in his ear. “Don’t make a sound.”

Alonzo opened his mouth to protest being dumped on his backside but the crash of underbrush strangled the outburst in his throat.

From somewhere to their left, Weasel Ginty bawled, “Where are they? I’ve lost sight of them.”

“Me, too!” Ira Fetcher shouted.

“Spread out!” Burt Alacord yelled. “They have to be around here somewhere.”

Alonzo glimpsed movement in the trees, and scarcely breathed. A silhouette took shape, moving away.

From the direction of the clearing, Cal Grissom called out, “Did you catch them? What’s going on?”

“Not yet,” Burt Alacord replied.

Alonzo glanced at Stone but couldn’t see his face in the dark.

The crackle of brush warned of another outlaw, coming close.

Alonzo was so mad at himself, he could spit nails. This latest impersonation of his had become one nightmare after another; Deputy Stone, the Sioux, the outlaws. The only good thing that had come of it was Jenna. Even there, his affection for her was one-sided. And once she found out he wasn’t a lawman, that he’d deceived her this whole time, she’d want nothing more to do with him.

Hooves drummed, growing louder.

Alonzo tried to sink into the earth.

From the sounds, there were two horses. Willy Boy was on one of them because he hollered, “Where are they? Point us the way they went.”

“We don’t know,” Weasel Ginty answered. “The ground up and swallowed them.”

“I leave you alone for two minutes and you let them get away,” Willy Boy said. “We should have shot them when I wanted to.”

Burt Alacord piped up with, “Quit your damn gripin’ and start searchin’. Swing west. Davis, you swing east. Circle wide, and we’ll catch them between us.”

“You’re not our boss,” Willy said.

“Boy, you’re startin’ to aggravate me,” Burt Alacord said. “And that’s the last thing you want to do.”

“Fine,” Willy spat.

The horses made a lot of noise as they separated.

Stealthy footsteps came near. Dry leaves crunched, and a shape materialized not a dozen feet away.

Alonzo tried to melt into the earth. He could feel eyes on him, or thought he could. He was mistaken, though, because presently the shape turned and crept in a different direction.

The next half-hour was one of the most terrible of his life. The outlaws were determined to find them, and ceaselessly roved back and forth. Now and then one would come so close that Alonzo imagined he heard the man breathing.

Then someone came plowing through the woods, and Cal Grissom bawled, “Anything yet?”

“Not a sign,” Burt Alacord replied, sounding disgusted that the outlaws had failed to find them.

“They got plumb away, Cal,” Weasel said.

“I doubt that,” Grissom said. “We’ll look for them in the morning. For now, call everyone back.”

A few shouts from Alacord, and the outlaws made off toward the clearing. A rider passed within a pebble-toss of Alonzo. Willy Boy, Alonzo suspected. Gradually the woods grew quiet, until the sigh of the breeze was all that broke the stillness.

“We did it,” Jacob Stone whispered.

“Good for us,” Alonzo said. He felt as if he’d aged ten years.

“We have a fightin’ chance now,” Stone said, and sat up.

“The two of us against all of them,” Alonzo said, “and they have guns and we don’t.”

“A good lawman never gives up.”

But that’s just it, Alonzo thought to himself. He wasn’t a lawman. He was a fake. He’d rather flee than fight. If it wasn’t for Jenna, that’s exactly what he’d do. Propping his elbows under him, he pushed up and sat with his head bowed in dismay.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Life couldn’t be better,” Alonzo said bitterly.

“You have to quit lookin’ at the bad side of things. That will only get you down.” Stone held out his arms. “Here. Untie me, and I’ll untie you. Then the fun will commence.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Alonzo said, “but what sort of ‘fun’ do you have in mind?”

“Tanglin’ with those outlaws, of course.”

*   *   *

Most of the others, including Jenna, had turned in, but not Willy Boy Jenkins. Not so long as Cal Grissom and Burt Alacord were still up. Willy wanted to hear what they had to say, so he nursed a cup of coffee and listened, while acting as if he wasn’t the least bit interested.

“. . . at my wit’s end,” Grissom was saying. “She has her mind set on going back to California.”

“Don’t take this wrong,” Burt Alacord said, “but did you really expect her to go on robbin’ banks and stages? Who ever heard of a female outlaw?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” Grissom said gloomily.

“You want my advice? You’ll let her go. You can’t force her to stay. Unless you’re thinkin’ of doin’ as she wants and goin’ straight.”

“I’m tempted.”

“Honest to God?” Alacord said in surprise.

“She’s my daughter, damn it. I should try to make up for deserting her. To be the father she never had.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“You heard her. It’s what she wants.”

“And you kept it from me. We’ve been friends for over twenty years, and you’ll walk away on her account.”

“I haven’t made up my mind yet. I was waiting until I did to tell you. I knew how you’d take it.”

Willy looked over at the sleeping form of Jenna Grissom. That girl was nothing but trouble. Without her pa to lead them, the gang would fall apart. They’d drift their separate ways, and likely never have it as good as they did now. He should be angry about it, but he wasn’t. He was angry about something else.

Jenna had rejected him. He’d admitted his feelings for her, and she’d thrown them in his face. He vividly recollected the cold look that came over her when he’d tried to kiss her. One little kiss. That was all he’d wanted. She’d turned her face and twisted free, and given him a hurt look. “I thought I could trust you,” she’d said. Then she had wheeled and gone off, and the next morning, she’d disappeared.

Willy was sure he was to blame, that when her pa caught up to her, she’d tell Cal what he’d done and Cal would be furious with him. But no. She hadn’t said a word.

Why? Willy wondered. Could it be that maybe she cared for him, if only a little, and she didn’t want to get him in trouble? If so, there was hope for him yet. He might win her over, given time. Time he wouldn’t have if Cal and her went off to start a new life together.

Willy placed his hand on his Colt and drummed his fingers. He had a decision to make. A big decision. It depended on which was more important to him—riding with the Grissom gang, or Jenna. The father or the daughter. His thoughts were intruded on by Cal Grissom saying his name.

Willy looked up.

“We’re turning in,” Cal said. “Those lawdogs are still out there and might try something. I want someone keeping watch. Say, two hours each. Do you mind taking the first?”

“Fine by me,” Willy said. It would give him time to think.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Burt Alacord said. “They’ll want their horses, and their guns.”

“They won’t get either while I’m keepin’ watch,” Willy vowed.

Grissom and Alacord went to their respective bedrolls, spread their blankets, and made themselves comfortable.

Willy refilled his tin cup. Two hours wasn’t very long. He’d have no trouble staying awake. He sipped, and stared at Jenna. She was curled on her side with her back to him.

In the distance a coyote yipped.

Willy scanned the woods. The firelight didn’t spread that far, but it did bathe the horses in enough light that if the lawmen tried anything, he’d spot them right away.

Willy glanced over at Grissom and Alacord. They were lying still but might not be asleep yet. He’d give them a while.

The Prussian began snoring.

An owl hooted.

“What to do?” Willy said quietly. An idea had occurred to him. A loco idea. But the more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him. It was unlike anything he’d ever done, but there was a first time for everything.

Is she worth it? Willy asked himself. Only he could answer that. He checked on her father and Alacord again. They appeared to be asleep. Setting down the cup, he rose and moved around the fire. Jenna still had her back to him. He was almost to her when she suddenly rolled over. He stopped, fearing she’d open her eyes, but no.

She mumbled something, was all.

Willy hunkered, folded his arms across his knees, and watched her sleep. She was so beautiful it about took his breath away. Her smooth cheeks, those lips, her hair. It was all he could do not to reach out and stroke it. He’d never wanted anyone or anything as much as he craved Jenna Grissom at that particular moment.

Willy looked over at her father once more. He liked Cal. He truly did. He liked riding with him. But not enough to make him rethink his crazy notion.

Bending over Jenna, Willy listened to her breathe. Every soft breath was like a caress on his skin. He grew hot all over, and prickled as if he’d broken out in a rash. He could smell her, a scent like no other. His mouth went dry, and his need mounted.

Willy made up his mind. The consequences be damned, he would do what he had to. Rising, he quietly retraced his steps around the fire and over to their horses. He hadn’t unsaddled his. Thankfully, Jenna’s mare didn’t shy when he threw her saddle blanket on, and then her saddle. He couldn’t help making a little noise, but no one woke up. When he was done, he led both animals over to where Jenna lay.

This was the moment of truth. Willy could still change his mind. He could take the horses back and wait until the two hours were up and wake someone to relieve him.

Willy firmed his jaw. No, he wanted her too much. Taking his rope, he pulled his boot knife and cut a length long enough for his purpose. Replacing the rope on his saddle, he sank to a knee, untied his bandanna, and wadded it.

Just then Tom Kent rose on an elbow and gazed sleepily around. He saw Willy and gave a little wave. Apparently he didn’t notice the rope or the bandanna.

Willy smiled and nodded.

Kent rolled onto his stomach and went back to sleep.

It was now or never, Willy told himself. Jenna’s right arm lay flat beside her, her left across her bosom. Making a small loop at one end of the rope, he was about to slide it over her hand when she muttered and moved, placing both wrists side by side. He couldn’t ask for better luck. Quickly, he gingerly lifted her right hand, slid the loop around her wrist, then pressed her right forearm against her left. It was the work of seconds to bind her.

Jenna stirred and blinked and raised her head. “What—”

Willy shoved his bandanna into her mouth. She recoiled and sputtered, and he put his mouth to her ear. “You wake anyone up, I’ll gun them before they can get to their feet.”

Jenna’s eyes grew wide.

“Not a peep, or you pa is the first I’ll shoot,” Willy said. Scooping her into his arms, he threw her over her saddle, legs first. She clutched the saddle horn and looked at him in disbelief.

Quickly, Willy vaulted onto his horse, grabbed her reins, and rode off into the night with his prize.