Marsh scolded himself for doing just what he vowed he wouldn’t do last night, which, was to entice Miss Randee Hollis and lead her on a merry chase. Chances were that he wouldn’t survive this perilous mission in which he was outnumbered thirty to one. But he had to carry it out for peace of mind. As for Randee, once her novel quests for revenge and adventure were sated one way or another, she’d return home to settle down— and he wasn’t ready or willing to change his lifestyle any time soon. He couldn’t offer her anything serious or permanent, so he shouldn’t raise her hopes with reckless temptations. Nor should he falsely and rashly encourage her to pursue him. The last thing he needed was to have a love-smitten girl hot on his trail. If only she weren’t so damned compelling and unique! If only she were older and more experienced in matters of men and sensual pleasures! If only she didn’t want and need what he was probably unable to give! If only …
To get past the awkward and unsettling moment, he chuckled and playfully winced before agreeing, “You’re right, Miss Hollis. Carefree men like me scare off real easy around proper ladies like you who demand all or nothing. Since I don’t want my talented hand or my handsome head chopped off for misbehaving with my boss lady, I’ll stop playing mischievous games with you.”
Without appearing shocked or angered, Randee instantly came back with, “And women like me are intimidated by disarming rogues like you who want all for nothing; so that makes us even, Mr. Logan. No silly games, just serious business. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve learned about the Epson Gang while you’ve been tracking them? I’d also like to know why Texas lawmen aren’t doing anything about this grave problem. It’s been over a year and numerous raids.”
Marsh noticed that she didn’t clarify what kind of woman she considered herself, or reveal what she expected from a man. “I’ll explain what I know about the “law first. Ever since the Texas Rangers were dissolved after the war and the Federal Government refused to allow Southern states to have local authorities, we’ve depended on the Army and military control for protection and law enforcement. Things weren’t too bad for us until Davis became governor two years back. That Republican carpetbagger wanted power and he knew how to get it; he created the State Police. Since they came into control in ‘70, it’s been crazy and dangerous here. They’ve been accused of official murder, legal theft, and fierce oppression of Confederate families. Those socalled lawmen are full of flaws and they make lots of errors. I doubt they’ll be in power much longer, not after President Grant learns what’s happening, and he will. Crimes like theirs can’t be kept quiet forever.”
Marsh knew that Grant was being well-informed through secret reports from him. As he traveled around, U.S. Special Agent Marsh Logan recorded the charges and crimes of the State Police’s often ruthless force. As soon as the President untangled some of his seriously pressing problems in Washington and around the country, he would find a way to liberate Texas from the grasps of Governor Davis and his State Police. Until then, Marsh was assigned to handle as many problems as he could, without exposing himself to Davis, the police, the Army, or to any local lawmen. Once his identity as a President’s special agent was unmasked, his life and missions would be in jeopardy. Only through secrecy could he carry out good and thorough investigations.
Marsh sipped coffee as his mind wandered for a short time. He was glad when, knowing he wasn’t finished, she didn’t interrupt. “As for the Army, which is supposed to be protecting the frontier and its settlers, they aren’t doing much better these days.” He promptly qualified that statement. “That may be too harsh a judgment. They have their hands full with renegade Kiowas and Comanches, especially since Chief Satanta broke from the reservation and is riding free again.” His blue eyes danced with amusement as he chuckled and told her, “I bet Phil Sheridan’s face is as red as raw meat about now. Not too long ago, he reported that all Indians had been subdued and were living quietly on reservations beyond the Red River. North of us, we have old Custer, who’s keeping Indians on the run to reduce them to povertystricken, spiritless people who’ll sit back and depend on the whites for meager handouts. After that massacre at Washita, he cowed lots of them, but inspired others— like Satanta and Quanah Parker—to bolder deeds. I’m willing to bet my reward that we haven’t seen the last of either chief.”
“Are those tribes raiding in this area?” she asked worriedly. If so, it could complicate or halt their task.
“Nope, they’re mainly working to the north and west of Texas. It’s a shame they aren’t around to take on the Epson Gang.”
“You sound as if you like them and disapprove of their treatment.”
“They were great leaders, good warriors who were only protecting their lands and people. I respect them, and I think they got raw deals. What good are reservations on barren lands and broken promises? The whites wanted the buffalo and the Indians’ lands. We were stronger, so we took them by force. Then we expected the Indians to calmly accept any peace terms that we offered them. I don’t blame them for rebelling. But as far as I know, they won’t give us any trouble in this area. We can’t expect help from the State Police or the Army, and local lawmen don’t have enough men to give chase. We’re on our own, Randee. Let’s get busy on our map and plans. After that, I’ll give you lessons with those new weapons before we ride to Jacksboro and Fort Richardson. We’ll see if we can pick up any recent information, then head out to check on raid sites.”
Randee waited while he retrieved a map from his. saddlebag. He spread it out before them and motioned her closer.
“I’ve recorded the locations of the raids. I know about so far. I’ve numbered them in order, dated them, and marked the miles between each raid. This way, we can tell how far and fast they move, and see which areas they hit repeatedly. Maybe we’ll detect that pattern you mentioned, which could lead us to their hide-out area, or get us one step ahead of them for a change. After talking with you in Wadesville, I realized we think much alike, so that’ll make working together easier. You don’t have to worry about me getting stubborn or defensive just because you’re a woman with superior skills and brains. A good partner is a good partner, be it male or female. I won’t try to boss you, so you can relax and speak your mind any time.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Marsh. We aren’t in a competition; we’re a team facing a big and deadly obstacle. We have to respect each other and get along for this partnership to. work. I admire you and respect you, and I hope you’ll soon feel the same way about me.” Randee studied the map and notations. He had done a lot of work, clever work, and she was impressed. She suggested, “What about if you include what time and how the raids occurred? That will let us know when and how they strike. It could provide useful clues.”
“You’re right again, partner,” he sincerely complimented her.
“Do you know anything about Quantrill’s Raiders?” she asked.
He glanced at her quizzically. “Yes, why?”
“I’m from Kansas, remember? These raids are similar to those. I was wondering if perhaps some of his ex -members are in this band. They did terrible things in Lawrence and Baxter Springs, just like this gang is doing here. They slaughtered people of all ages and both sexes. They tortured, burned, raped, and stole. They appeared nearly always at dawn or dusk, struck fast and deadly, then vanished. It could be coincidental or just pure evil in similar men.”
“You may have something there, Randee, but how could we find out who was in that band and who’s still alive? You didn’t happen to see any of Quantrill’s Raiders at work, did you?”
“No, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the rustlers who killed my father had ridden with that vicious beast and are raiding here now.”
“Is that why you want to pursue them?”
“No, I only realized the similarities recently and thought I should mention them to you. We must consider every possibility.”
Marsh met her gaze and said, “It might be helpful if we can learn more about those raids and men. I’ll give it more thought.”
She liked the easy way he took her advice and suggestions. Few men would be so receptive, so self-confident as to not feel threatened or annoyed by a woman’s knowledge and skills. Few men would allow a woman to be an equal in a relationship, even if Marsh had said otherwise. As her father used to tease, “The doing and the saying of a thing aren’t always the same.” Randee relaxed even more with him. “What about witnesses, Marsh? Are you certain there aren’t any? Maybe they’re just too scared to come forward because they know the law can’t protect them. I mean, it seems impossible that somebody somewhere hasn’t seen something—if only a large band of riders.”
“That’s a good question to ask during our investigation. We’ll list anyone unusual who’s around before and after each attack. We might come up with a frequent name or names. You can see by the map that the raids are in this oblong-shaped area.” His finger circled the location to which he was referring. “Every raid I know about took place between Fort Worth to one hundred and ten miles westward and a hundred-fifty-mile northto-south span westward of Fort Worth. Here’s my parents’ ranch near Jacksboro and the Carson Ranch southwest of Fort Worth. Looks like yours is about halfway between here and Hillsboro. We’ll need to check out this entire area and record all new raids. If that gang isn’t spreading out, we’ll know there’s a good reason.”
Randee noticed that Marsh said “my parents’ ranch,” not “my ranch,” and “between here and Hillsboro,” rather than “between my land and Hillsboro.” Recalling his earlier words about a single heir who wouldn’t sell out, she wondered why, but didn’t ask. As with her, the’re must be a terrible reason why Marsh had left home and couldn’t return, and another grave reason why he kept his motive a secret.
Marsh informed her, “From reports I’ve gathered, the Epson Gang’s size is between twenty-five and thirty strong, a real challenge.”
Randee nodded awareness as she said, “But we have Good and Justice on our side. We’ll win, Marsh; we must.”
“Before this is over, Good and Justice might not be sufficient powers for our survival.”
“Even if we only punish a few of them, it’ll be worth the risk.”
He countered, “Even if they hire more men as soon as we’re dead?”
Randee looked distressed at that thought: To die in vain. A reality came to mind. “If those we slay are the ones who killed our loved ones, then, yes, it’ll be worth our lives. If they aren’t, they’ve harmed other innocent people and we’ve claimed justice for them. We can always hope that someone will eventually do the same for us. I’m certain there’s a dark reason why somebody wants this large area. All we have to do is discover who and why; then our task is half over.”
“Let’s get moving, woman. I want you to show me how fast you can mount and ride off, then dismount over there as quickly as possible and take cover behind that tree. Take off,” he told her.
“You want this test with or without a saddle?” she inquired.
His brow lifted inquisitively. “You can ride bareback? What happens if that chestnut gallops away after you hop off her back? You haven’t been working with her very long.”
For an answer, Randee hurried to the reddish-brown mare, leapt on her bare back, and rode swiftly and agilely to the tree. She jumped off the other side and darted behind the designated hiding place. After a moment, she showed herself and called to Rojo. The animal responded instantly, and Randee returned to where Marsh was standing. He was grinning appreciatively.
“Ready for the next test or lesson,” she said, careful not to sound cocky. She would be open and honest about her skills, as Marsh needed to know her range of abilities, her weaknesses and strengths. And, she hadn’t gotten the impression he would be annoyed by them.
Marsh showed her how to load the revolver and rifle. He watched her follow his instructions rapidly and skillfully, and he smiled again. “Now, let’s see how good you are with those weapons.”
Randee waited patiently as the man set up targets of various sizes and distances. When he was back, at her side, she told him, “First, I need to fire the guns a few times to check their weight, balance, and aim. You have no objections to my familiarizing myself with them, do you?”
Marsh couldn’t conceal his look of astonishment. “Certainly not. I’m delighted you know enough to do so.”
Randee examined the weapons more closely than she had at Red River. She aimed and fired at the closest target, then eyed her success. She repeated the procedure several times, compensating for each weapon’s kick and alignment. She glanced at him and said, “Ready.”
The shapely blonde fired three shots at each target, reloading when necessary. “Why don’t you check them out before I try it moving?”
Marsh did as she suggested, amazed to find she hadn’t missed a single time. He watched her fire while running, kneeling, and lying flat on the ground. After he checked those shots, she mounted Rojo and displayed her matching skills while riding.
Marsh eyed her up and down before asking, “Are you sure you aren’t an expert gunslinger whose name I haven’t heard yet?”
Randee laughed softly. “My father taught me that nothing is more important than life and being able to defend it. He drilled me every day like I was a soldier. I’m glad he did, because the law isn’t usually around to ’ protect you when trouble strikes. I only wish I had been with him that last night. Maybe he would still be alive if I had been there to back him up instead of lying in bed with a cold.” Mastering her guilt and pain, she returned her attention to the task at hand. “What about if you blindfold me and I practice loading in the dark?”
“Excellent idea,” he concurred. He pulled off his bandanna and walked behind her. Placing it over her lovely eyes, he secured it snugly. “How’s that, partner?”
“I can’t see a thing.” She did the task slowly the first two times, then rapidly speeded up with more practice. She worked until her deft fingers knew the task by heart and could do it under pitch-black conditions.
Marsh observed her closely. His eyes kept returning to. her lips as she licked them and chewed on them in deep concentration. Finally, he noted how she relaxed once she could perform the task with expertise and speed. What an amazing, unexpected woman, he mused. Was there nothing she couldn’t do, and do well? Mercy, she nearly had him beat in skills! Even so, no twinges of jealousy or irritation nibbled at him, only a curious pride in her ability. Here was a worthy partner, not one to be treated differently because she was a female. Yep, he decided, she’s quite a woman. “If you’re as good under fire as you are standing here, I have nothing to worry about on the trail.” His keen mind corrected, nearly nothing, only self-control …
” Having removed the blindfold as he was talking, Randee returned it to Marsh. “Thanks, partner. You’re an expert teacher and you chose excellent weapons. What’s next?”
“We’ll save your lessons on tracking and stealthy night moves for later. But if you’re as skilled at those as you are with riding and shooting, you won’t need my help or suggestions. You’ll notice we both have dark-skinned horses, which will conceal us better for night work. You’ve just about gotten Rojo as well trained as Midnight. You’re good, Randee, and I’m pleased to be teamed up with you.”
“Thank you, Marsh,” she told him softly. Nearly always, most men didn’t like a woman being as good as or better than them at such skills. Yet, she had to be honest with him to prove she was capable of taking care of herself and any trouble they ran into. Just in case his masculine ego was stinging, she entreated, “Please teach me all you’ve learned. I know so little about tracking, and nothing about stealth. I don’t want my ignorance to get us into trouble. I said I would be your partner in all things, so you’ll have to help me keep that promise.”
Marsh playfully cuffed her chin and said, “I’m glad you didn’t pretend to be a helpless female just to keep from stomping on my toes. I appreciate a talented person who isn’t cocky about his or her skills. You have confidence, Randee, and that’s as vital to survival as prowess.”
“So is knowing one’s limits,” she remarked.
As she turned to put away her weapons, Marsh inquired, “What are our limits, Randee?”
Without looking back at him, she replied, “Knowing how far and how hard to press, and knowing when to back away. Despite what I said earlier and no matter how badly I want to defeat this gang, I don’t want us getting killed. Patience is hard and defeat can be bitter, but a person has to learn when to retreat, or to hold off, until he has the advantage over an enemy or a nasty situation. To enter a battle without at least having equal odds is foolish.”
Marsh realized there was more behind her words than she revealed, just as there had rashly been more behind his question. Mercy, this woman had a quick and easy way of getting to him. If he didn’t practice patience and retreat, they could both be in deep trouble real soon! He ventured truthfully, “Sometimes there’s no getting around death, but I’ll protect us as best I can.”
She faced him and replied, “I know you will; that’s why I chose you as my partner. I would like to make one request. If a moment arises when you can’t protect me without endangering your life, please don’t take any reckless chances to save me. I need you to finish this mission, or come as close to victory as possible.”
“I’ll make that promise only if you’ll do the same.”
Their gazes met in a searching, mutual appraisal. “That sounds fair and reasonable,” she answered hazily.
“I want another promise,” he added. “Promise you won’t go after this gang if I get killed along the way. I don’t want you hiring another partner and taking more risks. Promise you’ll give it up.”
“Would you give it up if I’m slain?” she questioned gravely.
Marsh scowled, and Randee remarked, “Nor can I, Marsh, even if we both know you’re irreplaceable as a partner.”
The ebony-haired man considered what that gang. would do to this woman if they were caught, and he frowned again. No, Randee, he thought, I won’t let you get killed or injured. If it gets too bad, I’ll have you jailed for your protection before I let them capture and harm you.
Marsh grinned as he realized that was the same threat Brody Wade had used. Noting Randee’s inquisitive look, he chuckled and said, “Well, woman, it looks like we’re stuck with each other, so let’s make the best of it.”
They packed their things, mounted, and rode away from the lovely place. Near Jacksboro, Marsh asked her to conceal herself while he rode into town to ask a few questions.
“Why do I have to wait here? We’re partners, remember?”
“I’m known around here. People will notice and remember a beautiful woman riding with the Durango Kid. If we’re seen together, word might spread and endanger our secret mission. You did say I could make cautious decisions like this one. I’ll be back soon.”
“You’re right, this time,” she conceded. “Be careful, Marsh. Don’t let the Durango Kid get talked into a gunfight.”
He smiled and nodded, then rode off into town.
Randee dismounted and tied Rojo’s reins to a bush. She leaned against a small tree and waited apprehensively for Marsh’s return. She couldn’t help worrying about his legendary reputation, a challenge to other gunfighters. What if something happened to him? What if he confronted a faster draw? What if he was … slain?
“I’ll kill you, Marsh Logan, if you get into any danger! You and I have some reckoning to do. I have to learn more about you. I have to have more time with you. Damn you, be extra careful.”
Marsh was back in less than an hour. “What’s wrong?” she asked anxiously as she saw his dark expression.
“Let’s ride, woman. Those bastards attacked nearby yesterday morning. They were right in this area, nearly under my nose! Dammit, I should have been there!”
Randee mounted and said, “Even if you hadn’t been retrieving me, you probably wouldn’t have been in this area. Calm down and think.”
Marsh glanced at her. “I’m not blaming you.”
“And you shouldn’t blame yourself,” she chided softly.
“I know, but they were so close for once!”
They hurriedly rode to the ranch and studied the destruction left in the wake of another merciless attack. Townsfolk had been here to handle numerous burials and soldiers had been summoned to look for clues. Unfortunately, their inexperienced trampling over the area had destroyed any leads that might have existed. The odor of burned wood from a home and several barns still lingered in the air. Wisps of dying smoke could be seen heading skyward here and there. Fresh graves of various sizes were in sight. Savage death and wanton destruction were undeniable.
Randee walked away from the horrid scene, one similar to what had occurred at the Carson Ranch. Tears dampened her eyes and she tried not to cry. She imagined the terror and anguish these people must have faced early Monday morning. When Marsh joined her, she murmured, “How can anyone be so cruel? We have to stop them, Marsh.”
Randee was glad the man didn’t pull her into his arms for comfort. If he had, she would have burst into tears. Then, he would have thought her too fragile and vulnerable to. continue their task.
Marsh wanted to comfort Randee, and to draw comfort from her. It had been weeks after the raid on his home before he had viewed the damage. This was the freshest site he had examined, and it impressed on him how terrible the attacks were. Yet, he couldn’t embrace Randee, because it was too dangerous.
“Let’s ride to Fort Richardson and see what we can learn there.” He headed for his horse. When Randee didn’t move, he walked back to her and asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes and no,” she responded honestly. “But don’t worry. It only makes me more determined to carry out our mission.”
They rode for Fort Richardson, arriving near the post in a short time. “I know,” she muttered, “wait here, Randee.”
Marsh smiled and said, “Getting smarter by the hour, woman— if that’s possible. Hide over there, and try to get some rest.”
“How can I relax when you’re taking all the risks?”
“You’ll get your share of them soon enough, partner. We just need to be extra cautious in this area.”
Inside the fort, Marsh met with a soldier whom he had known for years. The major asked, “What brings you here, old friend?”
Marsh took a seat before the officer’s desk. “Just passing through, Jim, and heard about the attack. Any clues this time?”
“Sorry, Marsh, but there weren’t any this time either. To tell you the truth, I’ve been seeking orders allowing us to go after that gang, but permission hasn’t come yet and I can’t explain why. Really wouldn’t matter; I don’t know where to look or even where to begin,” the officer admitted wryly. “Nobody knew a thing until noon yesterday, when a neighboring rancher went to pick up a breeding bull. It happened at dawn, so they couldn’t have put up much of a fight. I rode out there early this morning. Just got back, or I would have missed your visit. A terrible sight, Marsh, worse than at your parents’ ranch. Some of the bodies were burned with the house. Lordy, man, they shot down children and women, and butchered some of those folks. That gang comes and goes like ghosts, Marsh. I don’t have any idea how to locate or stop them. What are you planning to do with your ranch?”
Marsh knew the man was trying to get off the gory subject, so he let it pass for a time. “I haven’t decided yet. It’s a good spread, but I’m not a rancher.” Marsh knew he would never sell that land, but he didn’t want anyone to know that fact, in case someone suspicious came around asking to buy him out. So far, no one had.
The officer asked, “Why don’t you come back to work for us, Marsh? We can always use scouts and guides and good soldiers, especially with those Indians acting up again. The Army knows what a good job you did with those Galvanized Yankees during the war, so they’d hire you without a second request.”
Marsh recalled his days as the captain of a group of Southern prisoners who had spent their wartime captivity working out west for the Yankees: fighting Indians, protecting settlements and pioneers, building roads and forts, and defending the homes of other soldiers at war. He hadn’t been a Yankee, but he hadn’t wanted to fight against his country. Since he was a Southerner, the Army deal had suited him perfectly. That was only one of many jobs he had done since leaving home.
As if Marsh was considering his offer, Jim eagerly continued, “The best place to look for work is in Indian Territory, probably at Fort Sill. They’ve been having big trouble there since those Comanches and Kiowas broke treaty. There was a bad incident Sunday morning just the other side of the Red River. The stage was attacked just a few miles inside the territory. Then, those redskins crossed into Texas and burned the home station. Far as we know, the men were killed and the women were taken captive. Some major from Fort Sill had a wife aboard; he’s in a rage. He’s got his men on their trail right now, but he can use a good scout and gunman. Most of the passengers and workers were from around Fort Worth and Wadesville. The Army’s already sent word to their kin through the sheriffs office.”
That news struck Marsh Logan in two ways: relief in knowing Brody Wade would think Randee was gone forever, and sadness in knowing people had died because of differences between the Indians and the whites. At least this way, Brody wouldn’t be expecting to see or hear from Randee anytime soon. He decided not to share this news with his partner just yet; otherwise, she might want to contact Brody to relieve his worry.
“I don’t want to get back into following orders and schedules again. I like moving around at will.” Meeting the officer’s gaze, Marsh asserted, “I’ve been considering the mounting rewards on the Epson Gang and might go after them, if I can round up some other men who can handle a gun and rough going. You heard of any other recent raids?”
“Matter of fact, I have,” Jim revealed to his trusted friend. “A ranch near Wadesville on the eighteenth, owned by a man named Bill Sharp. We usually get all the reports, but we can’t do anything to halt the raids. I can give you the information I have in my drawer, but you might have competition for those rewards. A U.S. Marshal called Foley Timms was here Sunday before the raid, asking questions like you are. I saw him again early yesterday. He was heading south ‘cause somebody saw a large band of riders going that way. Don’t know who gave him the information, but he took off after them. He’s a fool to go alone. No reward is worth challenging that gang by yourself.”
When Marsh finally rejoined Randee, she was pacing nervously. “What kept you so long, Marsh Logan? I’ve ‘ been worried like crazy. I was about to come looking for you. I thought you might need rescuing from their jail. I don’t like being left behind to worry.”
Marsh grinned. “Would you really break a gunslinger out of jail?”
“I would free my partner if at all possible. Did you learn anything?” she asked, eagerness shining brightly in her eyes.
Marsh concealed the news about the stage and depot attacks, and what Brody must be thinking about now. He told her about the raid on Bill Sharp’s ranch, and she was stunned. He went on to relate news of Marshal Timm’s possible interference. “He’s heading south after them right this minute. If we hurry, we can catch up and pass him.”
“If they attacked in Wadesville on the eighteenth and here on the twenty-first, that means they had to ride fast and hard and straight here. Sounds like a preplanned attack to me, not a random one.”
“That’s my thinking too, Randee. Now, they’re heading back south because they know people will think they won’t return this soon.”
“That’s exactly what I don’t believe, Marsh. That Marshal Foley Timms, he was in Wadesville on the seventeenth. He brought a prisoner to the jail while Brody and I were having our picnic.”
“What does your romantic picnic have to do with the marshal and this mission?” he asked, jealousy briefly clouding his wits.
“Not with Brody and the picnic, Marsh! Foley Timms was in Wadesville the night before Bill Sharp’s ranch was attacked. Now, he’s in Jacksboro the night before this attack. Don’t you see? A U.S. Marshal goes anywhere, everywhere, without suspicion. He knows the territory; he can learn about the people. He makes a perfect spy.”
Marsh contemplated her speculations and said, “You could have something there, Randee. I’ve never heard of this marshal before, but he could be new on the job.”
“If he’s involved, that means the gang headed north or east or west, but not south like he wants everyone to believe. But even if he’s not working with them, he wouldn’t give away their destination if he’s after those rewards or sheer glory. I say we put his name on our list of suspicious people near raids. If he keeps showing up …”
“You’re a clever vixen, Randee Hollis. I’m glad I took up with you. Anything else, partner?” he said earnestly.
“Not yet,” she commented reluctantly. She wanted to reveal the other information in her possession, but it was too soon. She needed more time with Marsh before sharing all with him. “I do have one question. If no one knows who’s in that band, why is it called the Epson Gang?” she queried.
“My home was their first attack, but raids near the town of Epson were the first time that wild bunch was given a name for reports and identification. I’m afraid it doesn’t hold any clues for us.”
“What about members of the gang, Marsh? I saw arms and hands before I was locked in the attic. One man is black, and at least two others are Indians. I would guess Apache from their garments.”
“That’s a big help, Randee. But we shouldn’t reveal those facts to the authorities just yet. If those three men go into hiding, we won’t be able to use them to lead us to other gang members.”
“I know. That’s why I haven’t mentioned it before to anyone. They’re our only leads, so we can’t alert them to their peril. I also remember horses, and mannerisms, and voices. That’s why I wanted to get started on this search quickly, because memories dull.”
“You also have to be along to identify those men.”
“That’s right. Only I can recognize those clues. When I hear those voices again, I’ll know those men. And I never forget a horse.”
Marsh trusted her conclusions and skills. “I’m going to accept your instinct about Timms and the direction of those raiders. Since we don’t know where to head, let’s follow through with our initial plan from this morning. South westward, with stops along the way.”
Randee smiled happily. “Thanks, Marsh, that means a lot to me. I’m glad we’re learning to trust each other and work together so easily— and to depend on each other.”
They rode for hours, checking out any site that came across their path before dark. At each brief stop, Marsh instructed her on how to gather clues and on tracking skills. They were both tired and hungry when they made camp near the ruins of Fort Belknap, a post near the Brazos River, which had been abandoned in 1867. Before the war, it had been one of the largest posts in north Texas. A few of the structures still remained intact, but in disrepair.
“We’ll spend the night here, Randee. I want to look around in the morning to see if the gang has used this old post for a hide-out or meeting point. But right now, let’s find the cookhouse and prepare us a real supper tonight.” He headed for the dilapidated building.
Before long, he had a fire going in the stove left behind, and had freshly made biscuits cooking. He pulled a cloth-wrapped package from his saddlebag and grinned. “How does fried chicken sound? All we need to do is warm it. I bought it in town earlier today.” He waved it beneath her nose and chuckled when she rolled her eyes dreamily. He set it on the newly scrubbed table. “I was hoping I wouldn’t need my canteen, because it’s filled with peas flavored with tiny bits of ham. Then, we have these boiled potatoes, if they aren’t squashed.”
Randee watched him pour the peas into a pot and set them on the rusting stove. She eyed the slightly damaged potatoes and laughed. “You are wonderful, Marsh Logan. How will I ever equal this?”
“I hope you can’t. I need to stay ahead in some area. My damn pride demands it,” he jested. “Why don’t you make coffee, and later you can wash the dishes?”
“Sounds more than fair to me,” she replied merrily.
They devoured the entire meal with great delight. Afterwards, Randee cleared the table and did the dishes. Marsh made certain the fire was out, as the buildings were old and would burn rapidly if a spark ignited them.
Marsh informed her, “If we were sneaking around, you’d need to remove anything on your clothing that makes noise, like jewelry or spurs or weapons. You even have to be careful of pants material rubbing together between your thighs, and your garments catching on nails and bushes. And you have to make certain your boots don’t scrape on floors or rocks. Even your breathing and scent can give you away. When you’re being stealthy, watch sudden or rapid moves from place to place; they’re noticed quickly by a lookout, especially an Indian scout.”
“What do you do if you have to crawl on your belly over rough terrain?” she inquired to prolong their genial talk.
“Most importantly, make sure you don’t squeal if you land on a pointed rock or cactus, or if a creature walks under your nose or over your hand. It’s slow going. You have to place your hands carefully, making sure the rocks beneath them won’t shift or crunch with your weight on them. Then, you lift your body, shift forward, and lower it; it’s like taking a tiny step at a time. If you rush, they’ll hear you. Retreating is worse, if you can’t get off your belly and have to inch backward. My worst moment was when I inched up to a rock where a rattler was snoozing and I had to remain still for nearly an hour.”
“That means you’ll have to teach me patience along with those skills. I must admit, it’s my worst weakness.”
“I’ll have to teach you how to endure pain without making a sound, but I haven’t come up with that lesson yet. Since you weren’t discovered in the Carsons’ attic, you might already possess lots of those survival skills. It’s late and we have a hard ride tomorrow. Which hotel do you choose, Miss Hollis?” he asked cheerfully.
Randee looked around and selected the sturdiest appearing quarters. “There, Mr. Logan. What about you?”
“I’ll take the old arsenal. I love the smell of gunpowder. Call out if you need anything,” he told her again tonight.
Randee thought, The only thing I need tonight is you, Marsh Logan, but I dare not disclose that fact so soon. Heavens, Mother, how would you feel if you knew what I was doing and thinking? Or would you even care about me at all, after your beloved Payton filled your ears with his lies about me? If only I could have found a way to enlighten you, to convince you of his evil, without endangering you and the baby. Somehow I’ll find a way to free you. I won’t let that bastard outsmart me or defeat me, and I’ll never let him hurt me again!
Marsh was careful not to look at her or to say another word, as things were feeling a little too cozy between them tonight. He promptly went to the crumbling arsenal and bedded down there. Stretched out on his back, with arms folded beneath his head, he gazed at the stars which were visible through the fallen roof. Even if he changed his mind about chasing Randee Hollis, they had known each other only a week, too soon for her to … Forget it, Marsh, a lady wouldn’t choose a notorious gunslinger over a respectable sheriff, or life on the trail over a cozy home and family.
In Wadesville late that night, Brody Wade was talking with Deputy Matthew Johnson. Matthew had just returned from his tracking assignment, but Brody had received his grim message earlier. Brody had been hoping that Randee had left the stage before reaching Red River, but Matthew told him she hadn’t.
“Damn it all, Matt! I wish I had stopped her from leaving town on Thursday. Hell, I can’t go searching for her in Indian Territory. I wouldn’t know where to look or how to find her. With those savages running loose, it’s too dangerous and I don’t have any authority there. I’ll have to depend on the Army to locate her and rescue her for me.”
The deputy’s eyes widened in shock. ‘You mean you’ll take her back after she’s been with them Injuns? Sakes alive, Brody, you know what they do with white women. She’ll be too dirty to touch or look at.”
Brody scowled. “I don’t care what’s happened to her. She’s mine and I want her back. I love her, Matt. One way or another, she’s going to marry me. I just had to make certain that cocky gunslinger didn’t try to join her after she left town. I didn’t like the way he was eyeing her. I don’t know who he is or what he had in mind, but he isn’t the Durango Kid. I’m doing some checking on him now, just in case he turns up here again after Dee’s return.”
More shock filled the man’s face. “I’ll be goldarn, Brody, you really want her bad. I shoulda knowed it when you made me trail her to the edge of Texas. She’s gone now, maybe for good.”
“Not Randee Hollis; she’s too smart and brave to die easily. She’ll be back. Hell, she’ll probably escape within a week! You wait and see, Matt; she’ll come back to me. She promised.”
After a quick breakfast and a search of the abandoned fort, Randee and Marsh continued their journey southward. Wednesday was spent checking out each raid location in their path and making notes on them. They questioned neighbors of past victims, but learned nothing new. The ranches in this area were large and mostly self-contained, with many miles between them. Over and over, they repeated their story of how their homes had been destroyed and they were trying to gather evidence to help the law capture the gang. Everyone wished them luck, but thought them foolishly brave to take on such a task. At each stop, Marsh gave a Fort Worth address to which anyone seeing or hearing anything strange could send the information for him to collect.
Shortly before dusk, they halted and camped beside a river. While she prepared the evening meal, he checked their surroundings to make certain no threat was lurking nearby. He was pleased to find no one around, not even squatters. After supper, Marsh located a safe and private spot for Randee to bathe. She was delighted, especially after not having had a bath last night at the old fort. When she returned to the campfire, Marsh went for a quick swim and bath.
Tonight, they both unrolled their sleeping bags near the fire. Since Marsh said the area was safe, Randee wore her comfortable nightgown. Marsh kept his pants on, but removed his shirt and boots. Both lay on their backs, as if afraid to look at each other.
Marsh’s body was tantalized by Randee’s proximity. No matter which way he turned or looked, he remained highly cognizant of her allure and their romantic solitude. He couldn’t help but wonder how she would react to intimate overtures from him, or if he dared to make any. The longer he lay there in silence, the more his tension mounted. To break it, he commented, “You’re doing wonderful, Randee. I’m proud of you. I like the way you never slow us down or complain. You’re more than holding up your end of our bargain.”
Randee was experiencing that same discomfort of rampant desires. She turned her head in his direction and said, “Thanks, Marsh. I just wish we had learned, something today.”
“Don’t get discouraged. We’re mostly on a cold trail right now. One thing I did notice, Marshal Foley Timms’s name wasn’t recognized. If he visited the area around the times of those attacks, the people who know that fact are dead or gone. If he comes around these parts soon, I hope no one mentions we were asking about him.”
She looked skyward again as she asked, “How can we discover who’s purchased those deserted spreads? There might be a clue there to a clever land grab.”
“While I was in Fort Worth, I asked a friend of mine to check out that angle for me. If he’s learned anything by the time we reach Brownwood, he’ll have a message waiting for us.”
Emotional strain steadily increased in the ensuing silence as each became more and more ensnared by the other’s tempting presence and their secluded camp. Each heard the other’s breathing and noticed it wasn’t normal respiration. For a time, neither spoke nor moved, but hearts throbbed furiously. They lay there tense and alert, and with mounting desires. It was as if each was waiting for the other to make the first move; yet, both were fearful of the other’s reaction.
Randee became so unsettled by Marsh Logan and her feelings that she forced her mind onto another man. She asked rashly, “Do you think Brody has tried to go after me? He was terribly worried.”
Marsh was annoyed by the mention of the man who wanted to marry Randee. He mistakenly believed she was breathing heavily because she was daydreaming about… his competition, if he wanted to challenge the sheriffs grip on her heart and life. Maybe he should roll over there next to her and show her who the real man was! No, he wasn’t one to forcefully or cunningly seduce a woman. And making love to a woman didn’t prove to her that you were a real man, or the right man for her. Once he revealed an interest in her, things might get complicated between them. He desired her like crazy, but, no, he couldn’t take her unless she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “I doubt it, Randee; it’s too soon, unless he lacks all masculine pride,” he answered, making sure he kept his voice level and called her the right name to keep her from guessing the turmoil of his emotions. He knew Brody wouldn’t ride into Indian Territory to search for her; the lawman was too keen on his own survival. Maybe he should tell her the truth about the Indian attack on the stage. No, not yet …
“Does that mean you view worry over a loved one as a weakness? Are you less of a man if you expose your feelings?” she inquired.
“Men are trained to control their feelings, so it’s harder for us to reveal them than it is for you women. About the only emotions men are supposed to show are pride and anger, and they can get you into real trouble. I feel sorry for any man who reveals anguish; it’s like baring your soul to vultures. I’ve seen people pick a gentle man to pieces. Either you follow the rules, or you make your own. But if you do, you’d best be able to defend them.”
“What I meant, was to reveal your emotions to those involved, like to your family or to special people. My father didn’t go around displaying or declaring his love for me and Mother, but he made sure we knew how he felt about us. Most men won’t even show their families how they feel about them. Maybe because of pride, like you said. That was my father’s reason for playing the masterful man in public.”
Marsh jested mirthfully, “I’m glad your father wasn’t totally perfect, or he’d be a hard man for you to match in a husband. You sure Brody Wade can fill such large boots?”
“I don’t want to mislead you, Marsh. My father was a wonderful man, but he had his faults. All men do. It’s just that his many good traits overshadowed the few flaws he had. As for seeking a husband who’s like my father, I’m not. I don’t want to marry my father’s image, but I won’t mind if he has similar traits. Too many men view special emotions as weaknesses, and that causes problems for everyone involved. Brody isn’t like that. He’s a good man, a kind and generous one. He’s thoughtful and caring. He’s looked out for me since that raid.”
“And he loves you and wants to marry you,” Marsh added.
To get beyond this vexing point, which she had created, she teased, “Why shouldn’t he? Even you said I was wonderful, and you’re a hard man to impress or to make such admissions. Surely a strong and uncomplaining woman is worth her weight in gold.”
“And Brody made the first strike on your golden treasure.”
Randee didn’t reply, and her respiration altered noticeably. She remembered Payton Slade calling her his “little golden treasure.” Her stepfather had remarked often on her “golden skin” and “golden hair” and her “golden promise.” Heavens, how she loathed that vile man! How she longed for every memory of him to vanish! She was glad that the incident with her vile stepfather had not made her bitter and suspicious of all men. But she was more on the alert now than she had been before he entered her life. Randee was fairly confident that no man could fool her as deeply and quickly as Payton had duped her mother, but maybe she was mistaken. A person never knew how he would behave or feel until facing that situation. Sometimes the episode with Payton seemed excruciatingly real; other times, it seemed like a bad dream, something which had never, and could never, happen to her.
“I believe I’ve touched a sore spot,” Marsh remarked unhappily. “What do you say about calling it a night and getting some sleep before we destroy the progress we’ve made between us?”
“I think that’s an excellent suggestion. Good night, Marsh.” Randee turned onto her side, away from him, and closed her eyes. Heavens, how she wanted to cry. She blamed her distraught emotions on fatigue, vexation, and a gnawing hunger for the mysterious man nearby. Undemanding sleep was exactly what she needed!