Chapter Fourteen

David brought his pony to a skidding halt in the schoolyard and bounded to the ground before the animal had completely stopped.

“Miss Eaton!” he called, knowing the chances of finding her here were slight. She’d told him she was staying with the Shallcrosses because of the danger, and he wondered bitterly if Sam were the danger to which she had referred.

“Miss Eaton?” He pounded on the door and it flew open under his fist. He glanced inside and saw the bed had been stripped. All her personal belongings were gone, so he must have moved in with the Shallcrosses for the duration.

His pony had barely caught its breath when David leaped on its back again, headed for the Shallcrosses’ house.

Sam came along a few minutes later. He had expected to see Davy’s pony in the yard and he could easily read the sign of his passing, so he followed it into town, quickly realizing Cat must be at Twila’s house.

Didn’t he know only too well she hadn’t been sleeping at the school lately?

The memory of his futile attempts to visit her in the dark of night made his lips purse with bitterness. Damn her to hell! How could he have fallen in love with two such faithless women in the course of one lifetime? Did he possess some terrible flaw that fated him to give his heart only to a woman who would tear it to shreds and who would take his child away from him?

He caught up with Davy at the Shallcrosses’ house. The boy stood on the front porch with Twila.

“Sam, thank heaven you’re here!” Twila called, waving him over. Although Davy had gone stiff with rage, Sam directed his horse up to the front porch.

“I was just telling Davy. I’ve been thinking maybe I should’ve sent you word, but I didn’t want to meddle,” Twila said, wringing her hands and looking distressed.

“Send me word about what?”

“She’s gone,” Davy reported venomously.

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Sam asked with a stomach-wrenching sense of foreboding.

“I mean she up and left, took the stage out this morning, you son of a bitch!”

“Davy!” Twila cried. “What a way to talk! It’s not Sam’s fault—”

“It’s all his fault! If he hadn’t of—” He caught himself, flushing furiously, and contented himself with merely glaring murderously at Sam, who glared furiously back.

“I know the two of them quarreled,” Twila said, “but Sam’s been trying to make it up. She’s the one who’s been so unreasonable. I know if they could just talk things over—”

“Talking won’t settle this,” Davy interrupted, jamming his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe it will,” Sam replied, holding onto his temper only through a great effort of will. “I’m going after her.”

“Thank heaven,” Twila murmured.

“The hell you will!” Davy shouted. “I’ll kill you first!”

“Then you better get started,” Sam said, turning his horse. Davy called after him but Sam ignored his shouts, spurring his horse into a gallop the instant he hit the road.

“Come back here and leave her alone!” Davy screamed, and jumped on his own pony.

Sam’s larger, heavier mount quickly took a commanding lead, and after a while, he forgot Davy was behind him. All he could think about was finding Catherine and stopping her.

As the only passenger on the stage, Catherine had her choice of seats, but she vainly sought a more comfortable position on the cracked leather cushions. They’d only been on the road an hour, and already she felt nauseated and bone weary. Perhaps she should have waited another day, until she’d had a chance to get a full night’s sleep, before setting out for Dallas and the railhead. Perhaps she should have eaten some breakfast before leaving.

And perhaps she shouldn’t have left at all.

What kind of a woman was she to steal a man’s child from him? It was amazing how a short stage ride could give a person such perspective on the situation. As unreasonable and cruel as Sam Connors could be, his only real fault lay in loving his son too much. When she thought of how he’d suffered in order to remain with David, her eyes filled with tears. Adora had treated Sam abominably, and if Catherine ran away, she would be no different from David’s heartless mother. In fact, she would be worse!

At least she should have given him the opportunity to show how he would react, instead of simply assuming the worst and running away. Sam always said she made him do crazy things, and obviously he had the same effect on her. Did love always turn people into raving lunatics, or were she and Sam especially pathetic examples?

She didn’t know and was too tired to guess. All she wanted to do now was to turn the coach around and head back to Crosswicks before Sam found out she was gone. The desire was so strong that for an instant she thought she had only imagined the stage was slowing down.

“Whoa!” the driver yelled, and Catherine tried to recall how long they had actually been gone. Surely it was much too early for them to have reached a relay station.

She lifted the window shade and peered out, seeing only a lone horseman in the road ahead. Dust billowed as the stage lumbered to a halt, momentarily blocking her view. Then she heard the shouted command.

“Don’t go for your gun. Keep your hands high and you won’t get hurt.”

A holdup! Catherine’s heart leaped to her throat. She didn’t need to see anything to know who the bandits were, either. She shivered violently as she recalled the way Floyd Taggert had leered at her.

“You boys’re wasting your time,” the driver said with forced calmness. “I ain’t carrying anything but mail.”

“You got some passengers, ain’t you? Maybe they’ve got something.”

“There’s only one lady inside, and she don’t have anything worth stealing,” the driver said. “Leave her alone.”

“A lady!” the second bandit said with delight, and Catherine recognized Floyd Taggert’s demented giggle.

Fear clawed at her stomach. He wouldn’t leave her alone.

She could hear the sounds of a struggle as they dragged the driver down from his seat and tied him up. Now she would be at their mercy! She cast about for some sort of weapon and remembered the six-inch pin she had inserted this morning to hold her stylish hat in place. Swiftly, she withdrew the pin and removed the hat, tossing it aside and testing the point of the pin with her finger. It wouldn’t be much protection against two armed men, but at least she wasn’t totally defenseless.

“Let’s get the lady out here and take a look at her,” Floyd said when they had finished with the driver.

The door flew open and Floyd Taggert’s face appeared above the barrel of a Colt .45. A filthy bandana covered the lower half of his face, but Catherine would have recognized his leer anywhere. Terror shut off her breath and stopped her heart.

‘Well, well, well, lookee who we got here,” Floyd said, reaching for her with his free hand.

She flinched from his touch, but she wasn’t quick enough. He captured her arm and yanked, jerking her forward. She caught herself to keep from falling and, concealing the pin in her hand, allowed him to haul her from the coach.

Clutching at the door for support, Catherine managed a defiant glare although she trembled violently.

“Well, now,” Will Taggert said behind his mask, “If it ain’t Sam Connors’s woman.”

“No!” Catherine cried in horror before she could stop herself.

“Oh, yeah,” Floyd cackled. “We seen the two of you together that day we robbed the stage. We was spying on the town to see what they’d do. You two was kissing, and you wasn’t fighting him off, neither. We would’ve followed him that day and finished him off, but he stayed in town, just like he knowed we was after him.”

Will nodded. “That Connors is part wolf, but even a wolf’ll fight for his mate. Now we can get him to come to us.”

Floyd cackled again, and Catherine felt the blood rushing from her head. “He won’t come for me,” she tried. “We—we had a fight and I’m leaving, going back where I came from.”

“Then we’ll just keep you for our ownselves, won’t we, Will?” Floyd said, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her against his stinking body. “I figure Connors owes me something for that bullet I took.” She screamed and fought. The hand holding the pin was trapped between them. Floyd held her tightly, rubbing his hips against her obscenely. His laughter billowed out from beneath the bandana in fetid waves, and she felt the gorge rising in her throat.

“That’s enough, Floyd,” Will called, climbing back into his saddle. “Get her up here on my horse.”

“Not yet,” Floyd protested, stuffing his pistol back into its holster so he would have both hands free. “Let me have just a little piece of her before we go.”

He grabbed her breast and squeezed viciously. Catherine screamed again and at last jerked her arm free. With no time to aim, she stabbed out blindly, catching him in the shoulder. He howled in pain, slashing instinctively at her arm. The blow sent the pin flying from her hand. Vaguely, she noticed blood staining his shirt in the instant before he slammed her against the side of the coach, driving the breath from her lungs. Then he threw her limp body to the ground.

“Bitch! Whore!” He shouted other words Catherine had never heard before as he rubbed his shoulder. “You’ll be sorry you did that!”

Heaving, gasping, Catherine fought helplessly for breath as Taggert straddled her. He fumbled with his trousers.

“Floyd! I said no!”

She heard Will’s voice from far away, but Floyd responded with another howl. “She stuck me.”

“Get off her, now,” Will shouted. “I don’t want to have to tell you again!”

Just then the air rushed back into her lungs and she gave a wild cry, lifting her fists to ward him off, but he was already up and off of her, swearing in disgust. Clasping one of her outstretched hands, he jerked her to her feet.

“I wasn’t gonna hurt her none,” Floyd insisted. “Shut up and bring her over here. She’ll ride with me.”

“Wait till later, little honey,” he whispered as he dragged her toward Will’s horse.

“Why can’t she ride with me?” Floyd whined.

“Because I say so. Now hoist her up. You’ve done scared her so bad, she can’t even walk.”

It was true. Catherine’s arms and legs were like rubber, and all her strength was gone. Floyd threw her up onto the horse behind Will as if she were a sack of potatoes.

“Hang on to me, miss,” Will said with absurd deference.

The very thought of touching him repelled her, but seeing her reluctance, he grabbed her arms and forcibly entwined them around his waist. “You’ll like this better than falling, I expect,” he remarked as he spurred his horse, and Catherine quickly realized he was correct.

Sam’s temper cooled somewhat as he rode, allowing him to think more rationally about Catherine and her flight. While he could never forgive her for not telling him about the baby, he could at least understand why she had run away. He had behaved like a wild man the last time they were together. She must have been terrified. No wonder she had fled, and he had no one but himself to blame.

When he found her, he would have to be careful not to frighten her again or she would surely escape at the first opportunity. Perhaps the next time she would be more successful.

He was planning what he would say to convince her to stay with him when he saw the stage stopped in the middle of the road.

“Catherine?” he shouted, spurring his horse as he raced frantically toward the vehicle. The team shifted restlessly in its traces, but nothing else moved.

Panic welled in him. “Catherine?” he tried again, lunging from his saddle and peering inside the stage. “Cat, where are you?” Then he caught sight of the driver lying on the far side of the coach. He hurried over and began to untie him. “What happened?” he demanded when he had loosed the man’s gag.

“Robbery,” the driver croaked. “The Taggerts.”

Fear roughened Sam’s voice. “Where’s Miss Eaton?”

“They took her.”

Sam went cold with a terror more awful than any he had ever known.

“Can you untie me?” the driver prompted, making Sam aware he was staring off into space, lost in the nightmare of his imagination.

Swiftly, he freed the driver and helped massage the feeling back into his arms and legs.

“I reckon they was right,” the driver said after a few minutes. “They said she was your woman, and they took her so’s you’d come after her.”

Sam started to ask how they had known about his relationship with Catherine but decided he didn’t really want to find out. “Did they... hurt her?”

“The one called Floyd wanted to take her right here on the ground, but the other one made him stop. Seems like he wanted to keep her in good shape until they’d got you.”

Sam swore. Cat was in danger and all because of him. If he hadn’t frightened her the other day, she wouldn’t have run away, and she’d be safe and sound at Twila’s house right now.

“What happened?” Davy demanded as he thundered up on his pony.

Sam looked up at the boy and experienced a new wave of guilt. “The Taggerts held up the stage. They took Catherine,” he explained, rising to his feet. “How long have they been gone?” he asked the driver.

‘Not more’n an hour,” he guessed, checking the position of the sun.

Sam headed for his horse. “Go back to town,” he told the driver, “and get up a posse. I’ll follow the Taggerts and leave a trail they can follow. Davy, you go with him.”

“I’m going with you,” Davy said.

One look at his expression told Sam an argument would be useless. He loved Catherine, too. Besides, the boy had a good eye and might see something Sam missed. He’d need all the help he could get. “Try to keep up, then,” he said, swinging into his saddle.

David gaped for a moment before kicking his pony into motion again. “What makes you think you can follow them?” he taunted as Sam studied the trail, following it easily here on the road. “You’ve never caught them before.”

“They never had Cat before.” He glanced at Davy, not surprised to see his own terror reflected in the boy’s eyes.

“Why did you call her Cat?” he asked unsteadily.

Sam shrugged. “That’s what I call her when we’re together.”

“Liar!” he cried, on the verge of tears with his hurt and his fear.

“Davy, Catherine and I are lovers,” he said patiently, remembering with a pang the discussion they had had over telling Davy the truth about their relationship. “I love her, and I thought she loved me, too. Whatever she felt, she let me make love to her. I never forced her.”

“I don’t believe you! Why did she run away, then?”

“You’ll have to ask her yourself... when we find her.” He didn’t let himself say what was in his mind: if we find her. But Davy sensed his uncertainties all the same.

“What’ll they do to her?” he asked hoarsely.

Sam couldn’t let himself think of that. “The driver said they knew about me and Cat. They’re going to hold her hostage to get me.”

“Then they won’t hurt her?” he asked hopefully.

“They’d be crazy to, wouldn’t they?” Sam replied, unwilling to consider any other alternative. He knew only too well how much damage they could do her and still keep her alive. He just hoped Davy wouldn’t figure that out.

They quickened their pace, following the clear trail. Apparently, the Taggerts hadn’t been too concerned with pursuit. They must have known the chances of anyone discovering the abduction for many hours were remote and had chosen to make some time during the early stage of their getaway.

In fact, Sam could already guess in which direction they would travel, having tracked them often enough to know where they always went to ground. He glanced down periodically to confirm his suspicions and found he was right, even guessing correctly at what point they would leave the road to travel cross-country.

After a long silence, Davy said, “What happens when we find her?”

Sam made a pretense of studying the trail. “We get her back.”

Catherine’s entire being was a seething, throbbing mass of misery. The jolting of the horse had pounded her body into one huge ache that seemed concentrated in her legs and buttocks. Riding astride on the back of the saddle had chafed her thighs raw and strained muscles she hadn’t known she possessed, and each bounce reminded her of the tiny life she carried and the danger it was in. Pregnant women shouldn’t ride horses at all, she knew. Every second she expected to feel the tearing sensation of the child being ripped from her body. Her head pounded from fear and lack of sleep and the blazing sun.

Mercifully, her sense of smell had dulled somewhat, but the stench of Will Taggert’s unwashed body still made her stomach roll. He’d stopped earlier while she had a bout of the dry heaves, waiting impatiently as she tried to stop gagging. The urge to do so still burned in her throat but she fought it, swallowing carefully every few minutes.

Unfortunately, fear had dried her mouth, making such efforts more and more difficult. In addition, she had an overwhelming need to empty her bladder. She tried to tell herself it was only nerves, but she knew her pregnancy had increased the frequency of her visits to the outhouse.

For a while she debated which would be the more humiliating, asking Will Taggert to stop or wetting herself. At last she saw a clump of mesquite up ahead and knew she could wait no longer.

“Mr. Taggert?”

He grunted.

“I have to stop.”

“What for?”

“I—I have to, that’s all.”

He turned, trying to see her face over his shoulder. She tried to look as miserable as she felt, which wasn’t too difficult. Apparently, he realized her problem. “Those bushes all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she croaked gratefully.

He reined up, and for a moment Catherine found she couldn’t move, not even to unclasp her arms from around his waist. He helped by breaking the grip of her hands and then grasping her arm as she slid to the ground.

“Why’re we stopping?” Floyd demanded, wheeling his horse and coming back when he realized they were no longer following.

“The lady needs to pee,” Will explained. Fortunately, Catherine was past embarrassment. Clutching at his stirrup, she sagged wearily, trying to gather the strength to walk.

“Pee!” Floyd cackled. “I didn’t know ladies did them kinda things. I think maybe I’ll watch.”

Catherine had only thought she was past embarrasment. She found herself casting Will Taggert an imploring look.

He didn’t even glance at her, however. “You stay away from her, you hear?” he said to his brother.

“Looking won’t hurt nothing.”

“You won’t stop at looking.”

Floyd swore colorfully. “One little piece is all I want. I said I won’t hurt her.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said about that squaw, too, and she died, for God’s sake. Once we get Connors, you can do whatever you please, but until then I want this one alive.”

Catherine stood frozen with horror, clinging to the stirrup as her imagination conjured up visions of what these men might have in store for her. And even worse, they planned to murder Sam! Couldn’t she do anything to stop them?

“Lady, get moving,” Will said sharply.

Instantly, Catherine’s nerves sprang to life, and she scurried over to the mesquite bush and its meager concealment. Only the urgency of her need compelled her to squat behind the bush. Luckily, she had worn field pants for the trip—underdrawers with an open crotch—so she didn’t have to remove any garments. Still, she kept a lookout, alert to any hint Floyd Taggert might be making good his threat to observe her.

Oh, God, what was she going to do? She couldn’t simply go with them like a lamb to the slaughter. As angry as Sam would be when he discovered she had run away, he would most certainly come after her when the Taggerts sent him word. And he would ride right into an ambush!

But surely he would expect a trick, surely he would be ready, and surely he would bring help.

And surely the Taggerts would expect him to, and surely they would have a foolproof plan for murdering him, anyway!

If only he could track them to their hideout first and catch them unawares, but she knew he’d never been able to do so before because the Taggerts covered their trail too well. They would vanish into the rocks without a trace, not leaving a broken stick or a scuff mark or anything to indicate which way they had gone.

Catherine stared blindly into the prickly interior of the mesquite bush. If only she could leave Sam a trail. If only she had something she could drop, like pebbles, the way the children in the fairy tale had.

And then she saw them, the dried brown beans lying scattered on the ground where they had fallen from their pods, the fruit of the mesquite tree. A hasty glance told her the Taggerts didn’t seem to be paying her much attention. Swiftiy, she scooped up a handful of the beans from the dust and stuffed them into her pocket. She had just gathered a second handful when Will Taggert yelled.

“Hurry it up, lady or I will let Floyd come after you.”

Cramming the beans into her pocket with the others, she jumped to her feet and emerged from behind the bush, smoothing her skirts self-consciously. Hopefully, they would assume her nervousness came from maidenly modesty.

“Let her ride with me for a while, Will,” Floyd whined. “I can’t do nothing to her on the back of a horse.”

“She’s fine with me,” Will said, grabbing Catherine’s arm and propelling her toward his horse.

As obnoxious as Will Taggert was, Catherine certainly preferred him to his brother, so she went willingly. At least Will ignored her, which would make dropping the beans a little easier than it would be with Floyd, who would no doubt paw her the entire time and might even find her cache.

When they were on their way again, Catherine knew an overwhelming urge to begin leaving a trail at once, but she remembered what David had told her. Sam usually lost them in the rocks. Even Catherine could see they were taking no pains to hide the signs of their passing now. She forced herself to close her eyes and rest, leaning against the repellent man in front of her to conserve her waning strength. She wouldn’t do Sam or anyone else any good if she passed out from fatigue.

“They stopped here all right,” Sam concluded, going down on one knee to examine the footprints more closely. “Cat went off over there.”

Davy had already raced ahead to the mesquite bush.

Sam went more slowly. If there were signs that Cat had been raped behind the bush, he was in no hurry to see them.

“She peed here,” Davy said. “Looks like they left her alone.” His expression reflected Sam’s relief, and Sam realized that somewhere along the trail Davy had put aside his animosity, at least for the time being.

Sam hurried over and confirmed Davy’s opinion. The spot was still slightly moist. They weren’t far behind. If they could catch up before the Taggerts hit the rocks...

But they weren’t close enough for that, Sam knew. If he couldn’t find them before they went to ground, Cat would have to spend the night with those two animals....

“What do you suppose she was after here?” Davy asked, hunkering down to look under the bush.

Sam went down beside him and peered beneath the twisted branches. The marks of her hands scraping something from the dust were clearly visible. “Wouldn’t be nothing under here except maybe some dried-up beans and a few rocks,” he mused. “What would she want with them?”

“Maybe she was hungry,” Davy suggested.

Sam shook his head. “A city woman wouldn’t know you could eat mesquite beans, and for sure she wouldn’t eat them off the ground like that.”

“Well, I reckon we can ask her when we find her,” Davy said with forced bravado.

“Yeah, I reckon we can.” Sam clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder, wishing for a moment he dared pull Davy to him for the kind of hugs they’d shared when he was much younger.

Davy’s eyes seemed to hold the same yearning. “We’re awful close, ain’t we?”

“Not close enough to catch them before they hit the rocks.”

“Maybe we can,” he said, unwilling to admit defeat. He jumped up and ran toward his pony.

Needing to share Davy’s hope, Sam hurried to catch up.

“Wake up, lady.”

Will Taggert poked her rudely in the ribs, jarring her back to consciousness, and for an instant she didn’t know where she was. Then the whole horrible nightmare came rushing back as every throbbing muscle in her body screamed in protest at being disturbed.

Oh, no! Were they at the hideout already? Had she passed out and missed her chance to leave a trail for Sam?

“Better pee if you need to. We ain’t going to stop again until we get where we’re going,” Will said as he lowered her unceremoniously to the ground.

Once again Catherine grabbed for the stirrup to remain upright on her trembling legs. She shook her head to clear it and then scrambled away to avoid being kicked as Will Taggert dismounted.

The ground seemed to tilt and she fell, crying out in pain as the rocks scraped her hands.

Rocks! Instantly, she forgot her own pain and misery. They were in the rocks. She looked frantically around. The Taggerts were busy doing something to their horses’ feet. Squinting against the glare, she saw they were tying flour sacking over the hooves.

Of course! Sam’s theory about why they left no marks on the rocks was right. She struggled to her feet again, ignoring the pain in her muscles. Instinctively, she checked her pocket and found the beans she had hoarded. How should she drop them and when? Would Sam be able to see them against the rocky ground? Would he even come after her at all?

Despair claimed her as she considered the feebleness of her hope, but only for a moment. She forced herself to remember how he had forbidden her to leave him, arrogant enough to believe he could keep her with him by the force of his will. A man like that would come after her. A man like that would follow her barefoot through hell.

Tears stung her eyes at the thought of his wonderful stubbornness, and love convulsed her heart. Sam would find her, and when he did, she would never leave him again.

“Lady, if you’ve got something to do, you’d better do it,” Will called, jarring her back to the present and reminding her she did need to answer a call of nature.

Quickly, she cast about for some measure of privacy. Finding nothing more than a large rock, she ducked behind it, searching for pebbles as she went.

Sam and Davy reined up and stared out at the expanse of rocky ground before them. Sam pulled off his Stetson, wiped his brow on his sleeve, and sighed wearily. Davy rubbed suspiciously at his eyes.

“We knew we couldn’t catch them,” Sam reminded him gently.

Davy nodded, not trusting his voice.

Sam swung down and began the futile task of searching for some clue. After a few minutes, he called to Davy. “Looks like they stopped here to put the sacks over their horses’ feet like they always do.”

“How much of a lead do you think they’ve got?”

“I figure they’re almost two hours ahead. The tracking slowed us down some. From here we’ll go on foot so we don’t miss anything.”

Davy climbed down from his saddle. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast and the sun hung directly overhead, but neither of them thought about food.

“We’ll cover the ground in zigzags,” Sam explained. “You go that way; I’ll go this way.” Davy obediently started off, eyes trained to the ground. They would widen the zigzags until they encountered something to point them in the right direction.

If they encountered something to point them in the right direction, Sam thought dismally. Even if the Taggerts did intend to use Cat as a lure to draw him into a trap, how long would it be until they could get word to him? How long would they have her before he even had a chance of rescuing her? And what would they do to her in the meantime?

Fear churned inside him like broken glass, and frustration had made him desperate. When he got ahold of those Taggerts, he was going to cut them into tiny little pieces, just the way the Indians used to do it. He’d once thought no one deserved a death so horrible, but he had changed his mind in the last few hours.

So lost in thought was he that at first he didn’t quite register the import of what his eyes were seeing. He blinked and looked again. Good God Almighty!

“Davy! Come quick!”

The boy raced over, finding him behind a large boulder. “What?... Oh, my God! You think she did it?”

They stared silently down at the message Catherine had left for them. An assortment of pebbles formed a crude heart. Inside the heart she had placed a single mesquite bean.

“What does it mean?” Davy asked.

“Damned if I know. If you’d left it, I’d think—”

“You’d think what?”

“I’d think the heart was something unusual to catch a tracker’s eye and you were telling me to look for a trail of mesquite beans, but a city woman wouldn’t know anything about tracking.”

“Yes, she would!” Davy cried. “I explained to her how you always lost the Taggerts in the rocks because they didn’t leave any signs you could follow.”

“What did you tell her exactly? Try to remember everything,” Sam urged, feeling the first faint flickerings of renewed hope.

Davy thought back and recalled for Sam his conversation with Catherine on the subject of tracking, repeating for him all the information he had given her.

Sam stared down at the heart, and his vision blurred as he pictured Catherine trying to figure out what to do to make her message plain and kneeling there to arrange the pebbles.

“How could she know we were following her?” Davy asked after a moment.

“I don’t reckon she did, but she knows me well enough to figure I’d come after her when I found out she was gone.” She wanted him to find her, and by God, he would, if he had to walk barefoot through hell to get there.

“Come on,” he said to the boy. “We’ll keep making the zigzags until we find the first bean.”

Davy spotted it instantly. They walked on, leading their horses until they found the second and the third and got a feel for which direction their quarry had headed. After that they rode slowly, searching the ground. Sometimes she dropped a bean, other times a pebble.

“I hope she don’t run out,” Davy said at one point, echoing Sam’s concerns, but they could see she was being sparing, only leaving a bean where there might be some question about their direction.

“God, she’s smart,” Sam muttered when she led them down a ravine.

“Didn’t you know that before?” Davy inquired testily, reminding Sam of the matters left unsettled between them. He wisely chose not to respond.

Catherine gave a shuddering hiccup and reached into her pocket for her handkerchief. Thinking of an excuse for loosening her hold on Will Taggert periodically had been even more difficult than figuring out how to leave a trail for Sam to follow. Luckily, the strain and fatigue had rasped her nerves to quivering rawness, and she had no trouble at all breaking into tears whenever the need arose.

Her seeking hand found only three beans left, and she resisted the urge to drop one. Instead, she pulled out the handkerchief and held it to her eyes for a moment.

“How much farther is it? I’ve got to rest soon,” she sobbed.

Will Taggert shifted uneasily, as he had every time she had begun sobbing and made this plaintive request. “I told you to shut up, didn’t I?”

“I can’t help it,” she wailed, letting the tears flow freely.

“We’re almost there,” he admitted grudgingly. “See them rocks? There’s a cave. Now stop that sniveling, or so help me God, I’ll break your neck!”

He’d been issuing equally dire threats ever since she’d started weeping, without acting on them, so Catherine didn’t flinch. She sniffed perfunctorily and pretended to get a grip on her emotions as she squinted into the sunlight, trying to make out the cave.

“I don’t see anything,” she said.

“That’s the whole idea. The entrance is hidden. We can see everybody who comes along, but they can’t see us at all.”

Catherine’s blood turned cold as she realized she had led Sam into a trap! How could she tell him to stop right here? What could she drop that would warn him away?

Her fingers clenched the handkerchief and she realized it was perfect—or would be if the stiff Texas wind didn’t carry it away. She’d best drop all the remaining beans, too, just in case. Carefully, so as not to draw attention, she lowered her arm and pretended to tuck her handkerchief back into her pocket, gathering the three beans instead. Then she let them all slip from her fingers.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she let her aching body sag against Will’s unyielding back. Now Sam would at least be on guard. The moment he saw the handkerchief, he would know...

“What the hell?” Floyd Taggert yelled, galloping over to them. “Just what do you think you’re doing, missy?” he demanded, pointing at the scrap of cloth lying so conspicuously on the ground behind Will’s horse.

“Oh, my handkerchief!” she said in alarm. “I must have dropped it.”

“You dropped it all right. You dropped it apurpose, right after Will told you something. What was you saying to her, Will?”

Will turned in the saddle and glared down at her. His annoyance had turned to fury, and Catherine knew she had made a terrible mistake. “I told her where the cave is and that we can see anybody who comes by.”

“She was leaving Connors a warning,” Floyd crowed, grinning as if he had solved a great mystery. “Reckon she figures she’s smarter’n we are, eh, Will?”

“She’s got a surprise coming, don’t she?” Will replied, his pale eyes glittering menacingly.

Catherine swallowed nervously. “I... I’m sorry. It was an accident,” she tried.

“Shut up,” Will snapped. “Floyd, pick it up.” Floyd dropped down from his horse and snatched the handkerchief from the ground. Catherine held her breath, waiting. Would he see the beans? Would he realize what else she had done?

Lifting the handkerchief to his nose, he sniffed it, leering at Catherine over the delicate fabric. She turned sharply away and blinked furiously at the real tears burning her eyes. He hadn’t seen the beans!

She had no time to dwell on her victory, however. Will Taggert angrily spurred his horse, forcing her to grab onto him or risk being thrown to the ground and crushed on the rocks beneath them.

Jouncing on the back of the saddle, she had little opportunity to study the entrance to the cave. Suddenly, rock walls loomed around them and then the sun disappeared completely. Cool darkness enveloped them, and Catherine was temporarily blinded.

“Your sweetheart won’t never find you here,” Floyd cackled, and Catherine was very much afraid he was right.

“We’re getting close,” Sam reflected as they rode along slowly, watching for the next clue.

“How do you know?” Davy asked, looking around.

“I can feel it. I’ve been here before, almost to this exact spot. Remember I told you I could almost smell those bastards?”

Davy nodded. “They could be anywhere in these hills.”

“There’s caves everywhere, and Cat’s in one of them.”

“With those bastards,” Davy added hoarsely.

Sam wasn’t letting himself think of that. If they had indeed reached their hideout, Catherine had been with them for hours. A seething rage welled up in him, but he fought it back. He couldn’t afford to let emotion color his judgment.

“Look there,” Davy cried, pointing to the ground.

Sam jumped down instantly, beating Davy to the spot, and picked up the two beans lying together. A mistake? Had she accidently dropped a pair?

Then he saw the third lying nearby. Three beans could not be a mistake. She was telling him something. But what?

Davy had joined him, and he held the three beans out for the boy to see. “Why’d she drop three?”

Sam looked slowly around, studying the hills with their infinite nooks and crannies. “This must be the end of the trail.”

“End? But what?...” Davy looked around, too.

“We’re close, I told you. She’s here somewhere. She might even be able to see us right now.”

“Oh, God,” Davy whispered, peering into the distance as if to see through the solid rocks.

“Let’s leave the horses here and scout around.”

Catherine awoke slowly, coming to wakefulness grudgingly, as if she were swimming to the top of a pool of molasses. Sleep was sticky, clinging to her limbs and weighing them down, so even the effort of lifting a finger seemed too great to contemplate. The dampness of the cave had stiffened her muscles, but if she lay perfectly still, she could keep the pain to a tolerable level. So long as she didn’t feel the pain she most feared, she could bear anything.

Holding her breath, she centered all her thoughts on the tiny life within her and realized she felt not the slightest twinge to indicate the nightmare ride had injured her child. So long as her womb was secure, what did a few sore muscles matter? The only other thing even remotely important was keeping Sam safe.

Lifting her eyelids slightly, she looked around, finding the Taggerts near the opening to the cave. They sat cross-legged, taking turns scanning the area with a spyglass. Surely Sam could not have found them already. How long had she been asleep?

Almost the instant her feet had hit the ground inside the cave, she had collapsed into an exhausted heap and sunk into oblivion. At least Will Taggert had continued to keep Floyd from harming her while she lay defenseless. Now if only she could figure out some way of signaling Sam where the cave opening was.

Slowly, carefully, she scrunched her body around and pushed up on one elbow. Her hair had come loose sometime during her long ride, and she brushed it away from her face.

Engrossed in their lookout, the Taggerts didn’t notice her movement. She took the opportunity to study the cave. The portion she could see, lighted only by the high, narrow crevice through which they had entered, was no more than twenty feet across, but she could tell this room opened into a larger one beyond. Somewhere nearby water trickled, and a horse stamped in the shadows. She shivered, trying not to think of the inky darkness of the interior. Any attempt to escape in that direction would be futile.

If she left the cave, she would have to go out the way she had come in. Under the Taggerts’ watchful eyes, escape would be impossible, but what about a brief foray to get the lay of the land? As before, nature came to her rescue.

“Mr. Taggert?” she called.

Instantly, they turned to her. “Finally wake up, did you, missy?” Floyd asked with his vapid grin. “You sure are pretty when you’re asleep. I told Will so, didn’t I, Will?”

“Shut up, Floyd.”

Floyd’s eyes glittered wildly, and he rubbed his bloodstained shoulder meaningfully. Catherine shuddered and took a breath to steady her voice. “I need to go outside for a minute.”

“You can’t,” Will said.

“But I have to!” she cried, knowing she was overreacting. She mustn’t let them see how desperate she was, so she forced herself to sound more reasonable. “I mean, I can’t stay in here. Surely you don’t... I mean, you must go outside yourselves.”

“We can’t let you out. You might try to get away,” Will argued.

“Get away!” Floyd scoffed. “How the hell’s she gonna get away? She don’t have a notion where she is, and we’ve got the horses in here.”

“She might signal Connors.”

“He ain’t within a hundred miles of here. He prob’ly don’t even know we’ve got her yet.”

For once, Floyd was her champion, and Catherine hid her revulsion. “He’s right,” she told Will. “I know I’d die out there all alone. I won’t try to get away. I just need a few minutes of privacy.”

Floyd giggled. “If she runs away, I’ll go after her,” he promised.

Will considered the situation for a long moment. Then he snatched the spyglass from his brother and gave a cursory look around. “All right, I guess you can go out, but only for a minute. And stay in plain sight.”

Catherine considered these instructions ludicrous, considering why she was going out, but she refrained from expressing her opinion. Instead, she struggled to her feet and limped toward the opening. Will backed up to give her room to pass, but Floyd didn’t move, leering up at her as she pulled her skirt aside so it wouldn’t brush against him.

The blast of sunlight blinded her for a moment and she paused, waiting for her eyes to become accustomed to the glare. Then she examined her surroundings. An enormous mesquite tree screened the cave’s opening. All manner of brush grew around the tree and covered the hillside approach.

Still limping, Catherine picked her way carefully around the mesquite and its thorns. She had hoped to find some open ground, but she saw at once there simply was none, as well as no place to arrange a signal for Sam. She kept walking until she felt the Taggerts could no longer see her plainly. Then she sank down to do her business.

For the first time she noticed her clothes. The long ride through the rough country had soiled her suit beyond redemption and her skirt hung in tatters. Even her petticoat was ruined, the lace shredded.

The lace! If her handkerchief had been a good idea, the lace would be almost as good. Still reasonably white, it would be easily visible against the colors of nature. Quickly, she tore off several strips.

But where would she leave them? To her untrained eye, the whole area seemed impenetrable. How would Sam find one tiny scrap of lace amidst all this, even assuming he could have followed her ridiculous trail of beans in the first place?

Despair brought tears to her eyes, and she didn’t even have the energy to blink them away. What was the use? a tiny voice demanded. Even if Sam could find you, the Taggerts would kill him. Better only one of you should die.

Then she remembered she wasn’t alone. She had her child to think of, and no matter how willing she might be to sacrifice herself for Sam, she couldn’t sacrifice her child for any reason.

Even as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she carefully stuck a strip of lace onto a nearby thorn bush. Leaving two more along the way back to the cave, she casually hung one on the front of the mesquite tree before the cave’s opening. The Taggerts would most certainly see it the next time one of them left the cave. They would be furious, but Catherine was past caring.

This time when she passed the Taggerts, Floyd’s leer grew menacing. “Come here, little lady,” he said, grabbing her hand.

“Let go of me!” She pulled away, twisting and straggling, trying to break his grip with her other hand, but he grabbed that one, too, and held on, cackling his fiendish laugh.

“How ’bout a little kiss, honey?” he taunted, pulling her down until her face was only inches from his. “Just one’ll hold me till we’ve took care of Connors. Then you and me’ll have a high old time.”

“Stop it!” she cried, sobbing with terror as she fought to wrench free. His rancid breath gagged her, bringing the sour taste of bile to her mouth. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’ll touch you anywhere I want! I’ll strip you naked and chain you up in this cave and you’ll beg me to touch you then!”

“No!” she screamed as he pulled her to her knees.

“That’s enough, Floyd!”

Will Taggert’s voice rang against the stone walls, and Floyd’s head came up like an animal alerted to sudden danger. “I’m just having a little fun,” he insisted, not loosening his grip.

“You’ve had it, now let her go.”

“Aw, Will—”

“Let her go!”

Like a petulant child, Floyd flung Catherine away. She cried out in pain as her shoulder struck the stone floor, but neither of them paid her any mind. “Will, she stuck me.”

“Stop acting like an animal! What would Mama say if she was still alive?”

“You ain’t natural, Will. If you’d ever had a woman, you wouldn’t begrudge me a little fun.”

“You don’t need to wallow around like a pig to have fun. I said to leave her alone, and I mean it.”

“Someday you ain’t gonna always get your way,” Floyd said. “Someday I’ll show you I ain’t afraid of you.”

“You do that,” Will said, glancing at Catherine. “Get back inside.”

She gladly scrambled back to the far wall, as far away from her captors as she could get. Her shoulder throbbed but she rubbed her arms where Floyd had gripped them, trying to wear away the memory of his hands on her. How could she bear it if he really did the things he had threatened?

Shuddering, she realized she would have to kill herself rather than endure Floyd Taggert’s lust. Even the thought of her child could not dissuade her. If Floyd were as violent as his brother indicated, neither she nor her child could long survive him, anyway.

Leaning back against the wall of the cave, Catherine drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her whole body shook, but whether the tremors came from chill or fright, she did not know. Time passed, as she could tell by the position of the sun, although no one said much of anything. Once Will offered her some jerky, but her stomach recoiled at the very thought. She took a little water from a tin cup and found herself hard-pressed to keep even that down.

She waited for the inevitable moment when one of the men would go out and see her tattered lace fluttering in the breeze, but she waited in vain. In fact, she felt the urge herself long before either of them stirred. When she could bear the discomfort no longer, she once again asked permission to go outside.

“Already? What’s wrong with you, anyways?” Floyd asked in annoyance.

“I’m nervous,” she snapped, forgetting for a moment she didn’t want to antagonize him.

But he cackled, amused by her pique. “Then go make a nervous puddle outside.”

She strode out without even glancing at him, hoping her terror didn’t show. If he so much as touched her, her fragile facade would shatter into hysteria.

This time she didn’t bother to look around. If the Taggerts with their constant vigilance had not seen Sam approaching, surely she had no chance of seeing him or any sign of him. She went to her spot, glad to see the lace still fluttered where she had left it.

Not wanting to linger for fear the Taggerts would come in search of her, she hurried, but as she stood up to adjust her skirts, something stung the back of her neck.

“Ouch!” she cried, her hand going automatically to touch the injured spot. A bee sting was all she needed, she thought in despair. Or perhaps she had been bitten by something more dangerous. She glanced quickly around, looking for some trace of her attacker, while her fingers explored her neck, looking for a wound.

Oddly, she found no trace of a bite, but before she could reason it out, something struck her in the back, smack between her shoulder blades. She whirled, prepared for anything except what she saw.

“Sam!”