At three in the morning, a temporarily sated Randee and Marsh dressed and straightened the telltale bed. They sneaked from the hotel and left town without being sighted by Deputy Matthew Johnson or anyone else. Along the trail, they halted briefly to retrieve Randee’s hidden possessions and to bury most of the five thousand dollars.
He cautioned, “Remember this spot, Randee, in case something happens to me. I don’t ever want you being vulnerable to anyone again. If we don’t succeed, I want you to get out of this area pronto. Go where you’ll be safe from this gang and your stepfather. Promise?”
The moon was heading for its full stage in a few days, so she could see Marsh’s face clear enough to read the concern and affection displayed there. Recalling his promise to expose all there was to know about him when this task ended, she smiled and hugged him. “I promise,” she vowed before kissing him feverishly.
Marsh chuckled as they parted, and he warned. “Don’t heat me up again, woman. We have to get our tails moving fast.”
“Don’t blame me,” she playfully scolded. “I can’t help it if you affect me this way. You shouldn’t be so overpowering.” Her voice and gaze waxed serious as she added, “I really like you and enjoy you, partner, and I almost hate for this task to end.”
“We still have that nasty job ahead in Kansas, remember?”
“Afterwards, maybe I can persuade you to take me on another adventure. This kind of life gets in your blood, doesn’t it?”
“I’m glad to see you’re getting to understand me better,” he responded. “Now you know why I love this existence so much. The freedom, the excitement, the challenges, the fun, even the danger …”
Randee sighed dramatically and admitted, “I’m afraid I do, my handsome drifter. When our jobs are done and I have to settle down somewhere, I’m going to miss you and such stimulating times.”
He reminded unexpectedly, boldly, meaningfully, “Don’t forget you offered to tag along on occasion.. I’ve gotten used to having you around, and I find it most pleasurable and helpful.”
“You flatter me, partner, but I love it.”
As Marsh remounted, he retorted, “That wasn’t flattery, my impulsive vixen; that was the truth. Fact is, I’ve been trying my darnedest to keep you from getting under my tough hide, but you surely do make it difficult, and people don’t have much use for a soft-hearted gunslinger. Rumor claims they get themselves killed too easily because they’re distracted. So if you want me to stay alive, stop tempting me.”
“Why, Marsh Logan, how could you possibly accuse me of doing such a wicked and selfish thing?” she teased.
He jested in return, “Because I know it’s true. You’ve been working on my defeat ever since we met. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn you intentionally bumped into me that first day. You’re a naughty girl, Randee Hollis, and a dangerous one.”
Randee laughed and confessed humorously, “I surely hope so.”
“Move it out, woman, before we get caught by your sweetheart.”
When Sheriff Brody Wade reached the hotel shortly after seven thirty, he was more than angered to find Randee gone without a trace. He read her note to him, and couldn’t help but smile triumphantly. He took possession of the two letters, telling the clerk he would mail them for his fiancée. He hurried to his office, unlocked the door, and went inside. Taking a seat at his desk and lighting a lantern, he brazenly opened the letters and read both.
The letter to the land company sent his heart to racing madly and joyfully. If she would put such revealing words into a letter, then they had to be true. Any doubts he had had about her feelings toward him vanished. Even his stony heart warmed at reading she wanted to use the money to buy a ranch for them. Since it was supposed to be a surprise, he would have to remember not to mention it to her.
It was the other letter which astonished him. Bewildered, the insidious lawman read it a second time, slowly and thoroughly. Why did Randee want this Dee Hollis Slade to think everything was fine here in Texas, and that she was living and working in New York? Why did she write the letter as Lee Carson’s wife, and why hadn’t she revealed their deaths? The letter indicated that Dee Hollis Slade was Randee’s mother. Randee had never mentioned trouble at home or running away from Kansas! If the Carsons had known the truth, why had they concealed Randee’s presence? It was clear that Randee didn’t want someone back there to know where to locate her. The question was, why?
A letter full of lies and deceptions … How strange and distressing. If there was trouble back in Kansas, why hadn’t she confided in him? This mystery had to be solved, and solved quickly!
Brody pulled out a desk drawer and withdrew a copy of the advertisement which Randee had placed in several newspapers to lure a partner here. He put it into a large envelope along with a clipping of the local news story about the .raid, revealing the deaths of Lee and Sarah Elizabeth’ Carson. He included a note about Randee’s current and dangerous preoccupation with capturing the Epson Gang, aided by a notorious outlaw named Storm Hayden who was still wanted in Nebraska. He added that the Mid-Texas Land Company was eager to buy the ranch for a very large sum.
He looked over his packet and grinned. That should lure somebody down here to explain matters to him! If, after Storm Hayden’s death, Randee attempted to hire another partner, perhaps fear of something in Kansas would compel her into his protective arms! There was also the matter of the Carson Ranch. If Randee wasn’t the Carsons’ heir, he needed the real owner to appear soon and sell it to his company. If trouble found its way here and threatened Randee, perhaps he could impress and ensnare her by getting rid of the problem for her ….
Brody sealed the expanded envelope and addressed it to Dee Hollis Slade in Kansas. By sending it out with the mail runner today, it should reach the Wichita train by Wednesday, then the woman to whom it was addressed by Thursday or Friday. Within another week, somebody should arrive to clear up this mystery, Soon, he wanted Randee in his clutches and in his bed.
He wrote another letter to a friend in Nebraska, asking him to check out the Storm Hayden puzzle, and telling him where the alleged outlaw could be located. If by some miracle Storm eluded Jackson Fuller, the Nebraska authorities might be interested in him!
Lastly, he sent a letter to San Antonio to the real Durango Kid, informing the famed gunslinger of an imposter who was soiling his reputation and using it to his advantage. That should infuriate the Kid and put him hot on Hayden’s trail.
Between all those threats, Hayden, you don’t stand a chance of living past this month. I warned you not to cross barrels with me.
Brody took Randee’s letter to his land company in Fort Worth and resealed it with melted wax. Randee’s false letter to her mother had been enclosed in the packet, which would expose her cunning lies. He smiled wickedly. “Sorry, my love, but it has to be my way.”
Wanting and needing to put as much distance as possible between them and Wadesville, Randee and Marsh rode all day, with only a few short rest stops. They camped late, placing them two-thirds of the way back to Fort Worth.
They ate quickly, then cuddled on overlapping bedrolls. They were too tired to talk and it was too perilous to make love, so they only kissed and embraced for a short while. Soon, they were asleep.
Randee could not believe what Pete was telling them: Flossie was dead, perhaps murdered in her sleep. She had been found that morning, sprawled on her mussed bed, not breathing. There was no sign of a struggle and no indications of physical injury. The stunned blonde listened as Marsh questioned Pete about a lame man with red hair, but Pete claimed she hadn’t see anyone like that and had no reason to lie..
Worried about Randee’s safety in the saloon, Marsh took her to the hotel and registered her there. He told her to get some rest while he did some checking around,’ to which she protested.
She paced the floor with a tormented look on her lovely face. “I knew Flossie was terrified and in danger. It’s partly my fault she’s dead, Marsh. I knew how dangerous that beast was, and I shouldn’t have left her at his mercy, or total lack of it.”
Marsh captured her in his arms and held her tightly. “You’ aren’t responsible for her death, even if it was murder, and even if Carl Bush did it,” he refuted firmly. “She lived a hazardous life. She knew it.”
Randee argued sadly, “She begged me for help and I promised it to her. Maybe she got scared and told him she had made that slip to me. Maybe he knows all about us.”
“She wasn’t too bright, Randee, but she wasn’t that dumb. Let me do some nosing around. Then we can decide how to handle this. I have to meet with Willard, but I don’t want anyone seeing you visit him. Don’t forget, you have a meeting tomorrow with George Light. It wouldn’t do for him or one of his hirelings to get suspicious of you.”
“You’re right, I can’t endanger us by tagging along today. I’ll stay put and rest, not that I need it,” she jested to calm her tension.
“Keep this door bolted and don’t let anyone inside,” he warned.
“When will I see you again?” she inquired nervously.
“You’ve had little rest or sleep in two days, so get plenty of both. I’ll see you early in the morning, about seven thirty. We’ll go over my talk with Willard before you see that lawyer.”
“Marsh, you will be extra careful today, won’t you?”
Marsh drew her against his hard body and embraced her. Then, he lifted her chin and fused their mouths in a heady kiss. His mouth drifted down the silky column of her throat and his hands wandered through her tawny hair. A hungry groan escaped his throat and his mouth fused greedily with hers again. Suddenly he drew away and said in a hoarse voice, “I’d better get out of here just in case we’re being watched. Someone might wonder what I’m doing in here so long.”
“Why don’t you come back later tonight?” she asked shamelessly.
“The way these, rooms are located, there’s no way to sneak in. I can’t risk being seen at your door during such odd hours.”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks about me,” she asserted.
As he caressed her flushed cheek, he corrected, “Yes, you do, Miss Hollis, and so do I. Besides, aren’t you forgetting you’re Sheriff Brody Wade’s fiancée?” he teased, cuffing her chin.
Randee knew she couldn’t say, I only belong to Marsh Logan and I don’t care who knows it. “Suffer in silence, suffer alone …” she said aloud.
“At least you have the pleasure of knowing I’ll be doing the same.”
Randee frowned at his jest. “Some comfort, Logan.”
Marsh chuckled. “Yep, I certainly do enjoy having you as my partner, you witty and greedy vixen. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Placing her arm across her forehead, she sighed deeply before murmuring, “Alas, if I don’t expire from hunger first.”
Marsh’s hands and lips roved her sensitive flesh as he countered huskily, “If you do, my love, I’ll revive you with a tasty feast.”
She warned seductively, “Get out of here, Logan, before I act like a wanton tart and ravish you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, grinning broadly at her.
Randee bolted the door after his departure. She was hot, tired, restless, and hungry. She needed a good meal, a cool bath, fresh clothes, and lots of slumber. Instantly she dismissed Marsh’s precautionary orders and went about taking care of each need in order.
Later, curled in her. bed in a clean nightgown, Randee boldly sipped the sherry she had purchased downstairs. Gradually her body and mind relaxed and she entered dreamland.
Marsh sat on Randee’s bed going over what he had learned from Willard Mason the night before. The newspaperman had explained his futile search for the Mid-Texas Land Company’s owner or owners. Willard had explained how he had gone from town to town to trace an intricate trail of companies— one company owned by another company owned by another company and so forth, each with a different name on record, leading nowhere of interest or value.
“So even if we both signed over our deeds, we wouldn’t have the real boss’s name on our records. Damn!” she declared in vexation. “Is that legal, Marsh, to use fictitious names as owners?”
“As long as the real leader can prove he owns all or part of those companies, he’s in the clear, and we can’t unmask him.”
“Damn, damn, damn,” she swore angrily. “What now?”
“We did get one break, Randee. Carl Bush is reputed to be one of Quantrill’s ex-raiders, so we can bet some of those other bastards are too. There’s still a reward poster out on him. If we can capture him, he’s dead. So you see, you did move us forward with that sneaky piece of information.”
“One step forward and six backward, some accomplishment.”
“Don’t get discouraged, woman. I need those keen wits working at their best. Another thing, Foley Timms is an ex-Ranger and currently a U.S. Marshal. That surprised me, because I’d never heard of him or run across him during my travels. Seems he’s one of the governor’s best secret agents, a tough and determined lawman.”
“You mean … Timms is for real?” she asked, astonished, disappointed, confused. That explained why Brody Wade had found her accusation amusing and why Brody had known the suspicious man. She was beginning to think that Brody …
Marsh cut off the remainder of her budding doubt with his reply, “All we have to do is discover if Timms has become a gang member, or if he’s pretending to be one to defeat them, or only coincidentally being in the right place at the right time. Frankly, I find him suspicious.”
“So do I,” Randee concurred. “His pattern is too accurate.”
“I might as well give you some more bad news,” Marsh began reluctantly. “That man I had Willard check on from Kansas, he was working for your stepfather until eight months ago, and so was one of those three raiders whom I killed in Granbury.”
Randee paled noticeably. “Is there a connection between Payton Slade and this Epson Gang?” she asked worriedly.
“I don’t think so. It seems your stepfather employed several of Quantrill’s men at one time, but he’s let them all go. I guess to avoid suspicion. I suppose they drifted here and joined up with the Epson Gang.”
“You don’t think it’s odd they were working with Payton in Kansas, now with this gang that’s terrorizing this area?”
“I honestly believe it’s only a coincidence. Men like, those seem to locate and join up with others like them. They have no other place to go. The war ruined them, so they keep on raiding and killing. After what Quantrill’s men did during the war, this is nothing new for them. It’s my belief that the real leader intentionally searched out these men, knowing they had no consciences left, but plenty of greed and bitterness. He’s actually exploiting them, but they don’t know it.”
“My heavens, Marsh, this is crazy,” she remarked sadly.
“I know, love, but so was the war,” he replied, unaware of the pet name he had picked up recently and was using with her.
Randee noticed it, but wisely didn’t point it out. “I might as well see George Light, even if I doubt we’ll learn anything new.”
Randee was surprised by her conversation with the company lawyer. The man was highly educated, pleasant, and nice-looking. She hated to admit she was very impressed by George Light.
She was becomingly attired in a soft-blue summer dress and matching hat which she had brought along from her trunks in Wadesville for this meeting. “As I said, Mr. Light, I just wrote you a letter Saturday in Wadesville, but I decided to come here and talk with you personally. I cannot bear the thought of the ranch being ruined for any reason, so I have to make certain your reasons for buying it are honorable. How did you hear about my desire to sell?”
The man appeared totally relaxed and honest as he replied, “You have nothing to worry about, Miss Hollis. My client desires to purchase large spreads, then divide them into smaller ones which the average man can afford. He wants to see this area of Texas prosper. It’s my responsibility to locate properties which have fallen on hard times. Sad to say, most of the sales have resulted from raids by this vicious gang which is terrorizing our state. I check all newspapers for news of raids and approach the heirs about sales. As you know, most of them wish to sell quickly and leave the area. I give them as much money as possible to help them begin fresh elsewhere. Hopefully after this trouble is settled, some of them might return and repurchase their old spreads, or parts of them. Currently our plan is to hold on to the lands until the law has dealt with these murders and the areas are safe once more. Afterwards, we’ll divide the larger spreads and sell them to several buyers. With the profits, we plan to build churches, schools, and businesses. This way, numerous people will benefit from a dreadful situation. We’re interested in development, expansion, and improvements. Progress, Miss Hollis, that’s our primary goal.”
“The ranch house is still intact, Mr. Light, and it’s beautiful— one of the few places spared by those horrid beasts. Naturally that means I’ll have to ask a higher price than you mentioned in your letter.”
The man thought for a moment, then responded, “I’ll have to consult the company owner about raising my offer, Miss Hollis. I only have permission to spend a certain amount on each spread. I’ll need a couple of weeks to contact him and get an answer for you. Will it be possible for you to return here … say after July fourth?”
Randee sighed artfully and said, “I had really hoped to get this matter settled as quickly as possible. Are you sure you can’t make an exception this time?”
George shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Miss Hollis. My authority is limited. To be honest with you, my offer was most generous and I’m not certain I can get a “ better one for you.”
Randee did not want to appear overly eager, so she remarked, “Yes, but it was probably based on the erroneous fact that only the land existed, as it is uncommon for a raid site to escape total destruction. Surely the house makes my spread worth more?”
“Ah, but I did know the house was unharmed; that’s why my offer was so reasonable. Surely you read the newspaper account of the raid? It mentioned the curious oversight by that awful gang.”
That shocked Randee, and it showed in her expression. She admitted, “No, I didn’t know about the story.”
George smiled kindly. “You were very fortunate, Miss Hollis, but what’s to stop that gang from destroying the house before we can sell it to another buyer? You are aware that those outlaws often strike the same place again? If I get my client to raise his price and the house is burned later, he’s out a great deal of money which cannot be replaced with a sale.”
“But, Mr. Light” she cleverly argued, “the raiders only strike a second time if people and cattle are present to make it worth their while. Since my ranch is deserted, what would it profit them?”
George grinned broadly. “You could be right. I’ll approach my client about your request, then give you his answer on July fifth.”
Randee grasped the polite dismissal in his tone and by the way he rose from his chair. “I can see you’re a busy man, Mr. Light, but I have one other request.” She watched the man take his seat again and look expectantly at her. “This must be held in strictest confidence. I’m looking for a nice, but smaller, ranch near Wadesville. You see, I’m to marry Sheriff Brody Wade soon and we want to get into ranching. As soon as election time comes around, he’s stepping down as sheriff. I want to surprise him with a ranch as a wedding gift. I would like for you to be on the lookout for a superior ranch in that area, but one I can afford with the sale of my land, and one which leaves enough money to buy cattle and build a home. Is that possible?”
“Sheriff Wade is a lucky man to have won not only a beautiful woman but also a very generous one. I will do my best to fill your needs. With luck, I’ll have both answers for you when we meet again. It was a pleasure to meet such a charming and intelligent woman.”
Randee stood and shook the hand which was extended across the polished desk. “I look forward to doing business with you, sir. I shall return at ten o’clock on July fifth. Hopefully your news will be good.”
George Light leaned back in his chair after Randee’s departure. He absently scratched his taut groin as he envisioned the blonde beauty. He decided that his boss was indeed a very lucky man to have ensnared such a special creature, if indeed he had. George wasn’t so sure about that, as this female was very bright and clever. Thank goodness, he had been warned by one of Brody’s men to expect a visit from her soon, but not this soon. He had stalled her as ordered, but for how long?
Jackson Fuller came in the back door, a lopsided grin on his face. “So, that’s the boss’s little treasure. Can’t blame ‘im for wanting that writhing beneath him in a bed every night.”
“Remember your orders, Fuller; she isn’t to be harmed, only her partner in this silly chase. You have the poster on him?”
“Yep, in my saddlebag. His death will look real legal, and maybe it is. I got rid of that whore at the Pleasure Palace.. Simple as breathing,” he hinted and laughed coldly. “I guess she found it hard to catch her wind with a pillow over her painted face. Carl couldn’t risk being seen in town, so he let me get rid of her for ‘im. Must say, I wouldn’t have minded a piece of her before she went out so easily. I been tailing those two ever since they hit town Sunday afternoon. Hayden visited that newspaperman and stayed a long time, but I couldn’t get close enough to hear anything. The girl kept to her room all night, alone. ‘Course that don’t mean ain’t nothing between ’em.”
George Light swallowed his sour disgust with this repulsive killer-for-hire. If he had known so many people would be slain during this job, he wouldn’t have taken it. He had been led to believe people would be scared out, but not this horrible way. Now, he was as deeply involved as Brody Wade and that malicious gang. If they were exposed and hanged, he would be too. He would be glad when this scheme was over, the sooner the better. What did it matter if he was going to be a wealthy and powerful man, when he had so much blood on his hands? “Anything else?” he asked when Fuller didn’t move. He wanted this satanic bastard out of his office and life. The bounty hunter had no conscience; he enjoyed the pain and death of others. Yet, George Light hated to see Randee Hollis in Brody Wade’s control ….
Jackson Fuller commented dryly, “I had to ride all night and day to beat ‘em here. I’m tireder than a doggie who’s been stampeded for hours. Can’t rest yet ‘cause those two won’t stay put long. It’s my guess they’ll leave within the hour, and I’ll be on their butts. By dusk, Hayden will be dead; that’s a sure bet, Light.”
George scowled at the mention of his one weakness, the vice which had gotten him involved in this bloody mess. “Then, I suggest you get back to work, or they’ll sneak away before you know it.”
The bounty hunter boasted calmly, “Nobody escapes me, Light. I’ve captured or killed every man I’ve gone after. I’m the best; that’s why Wade hired me. I was trained by the Apaches, so I have skills most trackers only dream about possessing. Hayden don’t know it, but he’s a walking dead man. Too bad the boss wants that girl with him.”
“Make certain you don’t forget that point, Fuller, or you’ll be the walking dead man when Brody sends that gang after you.”
Fuller threw back his head and laughed sardonically. “Don’t tell me she teased your craw too. Don’t worry, Light, I ain’t met the woman who could make Jack Fuller forget himself.”
George Light had not seen or met Storm Hayden, so he did not realize or suspect that Brody’s nemesis was the same man whom he had met earlier as Jacksboro rancher Marsh Logan ….
Randee and Marsh camped early that night, a half day’s ride from Fort Worth. They had talked little after discussing her nonproductive meeting with George Light and leaving town immediately thereafter.
She glanced at Marsh as they dismounted and unpacked their supplies. He had been unusually quiet this afternoon and she wondered what was on his mind. To break the heavy silence, she asked, “Do you think George Light knows what he’s doing for this unknown boss? With all those false companies involved, maybe he doesn’t even know whom he’s actually working for.” When he remained silent and distracted, she asked, “Is that possible, Marsh?”
“Possible, yes, but probable, no,” he replied.
“Where to now?” she questioned, having failed to draw him out.
“I don’t know,” he confessed almost sullenly. “All we can do is ride around trying to get rid of more raiders while Willard continues his paper.trail and his investigation of Carl Bush and Foley Timms.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked tenderly. “You’re too quiet tonight.”
“I don’t like that business with Flossie. My gut instinct tells me someone is on to us. If I’m right …” He fell silent again. “I think I’ll take a swim to get rid of some of this restlessness.”
She watched him pull a bottle from his saddlebag and take several deep swallows of whiskey, an uncommon action for this strong male. As if forgetting her presence, he did not politely offer her a sip, although she would have refused that potent drink. Something had him worried, and that alarmed her. Yet, she tried to appear calm and confident and cheerful. With a wisdom beyond her years and experience, Randee was careful not to behave like a selfish or nagging woman by demanding he explain his moodiness.
Her father had told her long ago during one of their special talks, “When you’re trying to rope your sweetheart, Randee, remember that men aren’t like women when it comes to feelings. You women show yours and talk about them; men think they have to control theirs and be quiet about them, because that’s how we’re raised. Us boys are trained to hide our tender feelings and use self-control. We’re not supposed to show fear, pain, doubts, or flaws. That makes people think you’re less of a man, makes you think you’re less of a man. That may sound silly, daughter, but we can’t help ourselves. No matter what happens, we aren’t supposed to burden you womenfolk with any problems, no complaining or tears or whining about cruel fate. We’re supposed to be strong enough to handle anything. When trouble arises, we need to withdraw into our silent worlds to work through our feelings, to solve nasty situations, to deal with our failures. When your man does this, don’t har. ass him with questions and tears and pouting. Be kind, and patient, and understanding until he opens up to you. He’ll love you all the more for being so smart and unselfish. Don’t be provoked to intrude on his silent retreat. When women behave like that, I’m sorry to say, we’re bad about striking out in self-defense, because your reaction makes us feel weaker and more intimidated. A man constantly needs to prove his strength and. worth.”
As the blonde observed Marsh Logan and considered her father’s words, she decided they were wise, but so hard to obey. Yet, she would try..With a radiant smile, she told him, “I’ll start our supper while you get rid of that nervous energy, Logan. We’ll talk later, if you’re in the mood. If not, don’t worry about it.”
Marsh glanced at her and half grinned. “Only a smart woman knows when a man needs to be left alone. And you, Miss Hollis, are brilliant. Thanks. I’ll be back shortly.”
Randee watched his retreat, worried about him. He had to keep his wits sharp to avoid trouble, and they were anything but clear and active tonight. There was nothing she could do except wait for him to explain, if he cared to do so. She built a fire and began their meal.
Suddenly she was seized from behind, a strong arm imprisoning her throat and cutting off her breath. She felt a gun barrel pressed painfully between her shoulder blades and heard a frigid voice in her ear warn, “Be still and quiet, or you’re dead, Miss Hollis.”
The man did not release her. Instead, his grip tightened and she feared she was going to be strangled. Then, it loosened slightly. “If you don’t do what I say, this bullet has your name on it. Call your friend back to camp. Storm Hayden and me have a little problem.”
Randee grasped the name her assailant had used in speaking of Marsh, and the frightening use of her own name. She didn’t know what to do. If she called Marsh and didn’t warn him, her love could be slain, probably would be slain. If she did shout danger, the man would shoot her and still go after Marsh. “Wha-t d-do y-ou wa-nt?” she asked, struggling to get each word past her captive throat.
“Your friend out there owes me something, his life. It’s yours or his or both; your choice, Hollis,” he replied, his voice icy.
Horror seized her. “Why?” she questioned frantically.
“Money.”
“I do-n’t un-derst-and. What mon-ey?”
“He’s a wanted man, one with a big reward on his head.”
“Do you ha-have to ch-oke me?” she asked, twisting to loosen his grip so she could get more air in her lungs.
“When I let up, you best call him over, or your pretty ass is mine, bitch, if you catch my drift. Cross me, and I’ll get rid of you real slow and painful after I finish him off. Obey, and you go free. You have my word, woman; ‘cause you don’t interest me, just Hayden.”
“I should believe that?” she challenged after drawing a deep and ragged breath. No time to think, she had to listen closely.
“You got a choice?” he asked sarcastically.
“What if I pay you more than his reward to let us go free?”
“You ain’t got twenty thousand dollars on you, and I don’t trust nobody. Shut up and call him,” he demanded contradictorily, jabbing the gun barrel sharply into her back.
Suddenly Randee realized that Marsh might suspect trouble when she used his false name, so she yelled, “Storm! Storm Hayden, come quick! I’ve burned myself badly! Get over here! Pronto!”
Marsh appeared almost instantly— behind them, and with a gun in each hand. But the alert bounty hunter had not boasted falsely to George Light about his skills; anticipating and hearing Marsh’s stealthy approach, he had whirled and placed Randee between them.
“Drop ‘em, Hayden, or she’s dead.” He shoved his gun roughly against her spine and wiggled it, causing her to jerk backward and to scream in pain. Her captor laughed malevolently. “You might get me, but I’ll get her before you do. Lose the guns,” he ordered coldly.
For a time, Marsh held his ground—a few feet away—with only a blanket wrapped around his dripping body. Wet hair fell over his forehead, and his unshaven face looked hard. His blue eyes narrowed and his jawline grew taut, and he knew he had made an incredible error. The warning had been in her words and he had grasped it, but he had underestimated the prowess of this killer— a stupid and possibly fatal mistake. He cursed his blunder and hastily assessed the situation. He dared not shoot with Randee as the man’s shield, particularly with such a dangerous and alert bastard who was quick and agile. This opponent was highly trained, highly skilled, highly perilous. Here was a man hard to trick, one who couldn’t be bargained with or fought fairly. Marsh was too far away to risk attack, leaving him no way to defend his woman. Yet, he adopted a nonchalant stance and grinned. “Seems you caught me with my jeans down, partner. What’s the deal?”
“No deal, Hayden. If you want this woman to live, stay right where you are. No sudden moves or heroics. Your poster says you’re worth more alive than dead, so I’d like to take you in kicking. The guns, toss them toward me, real slow and careful, barrels first.”
Randee’s life depended on his unselfish decision. For now, Marsh knew he had no choice but to surrender, and that enraged him. He pointed his weapons downward and uncocked their hammers. Flicking his wrists, he let his revolvers slide through his hands so he could grip their barrels with his fingers and toss them on the ground. He watched the now useless weapons hit the hard earth, out of reach. The number one rule for being a survivor was never to give up your gun for any reason; this time, he had to break it because he knew the man would shoot Randee without a second thought.
“That’s better,” the man said smugly. “Kiss the ground with your belly,” came his second order, an even more embarrassing one. When Marsh obeyed, the man added, “Spread-eagle, Hayden!”
Marsh cursed his oversight of not concealing a knife behind his back. In that one moment of the man’s distraction from apparent victory, he could have … He ordered himself to clear his mind of debilitating intrusions. Swallowing his pride and mastering his fury, he stretched out, knowing how vulnerable and helpless the position made him. Before he could decide a course of action, the man threw Randee aside and struck him forcefully on the back of the head, rendering him unconscious. The last thing he heard was Randee’s scream ….
“Move one inch, woman, and you’re a goner.” Pulling a rope from his pocket, Jackson Fuller bent forward and begin to bind Marsh.
Randee rubbed her sore throat and coughed. She shifted to her knees as she pleaded, “If you let him go, I’ll give you the money. I have that much in a bank in Wadesville, also a valuable ranch. You can hide him somewhere until we fetch it. No tricks; I swear.”
As the bounty hunter turned to scowl at her, shaking his head, she fired the pistol which she had drawn from her boot. The bullet struck him in the heart. She fired again. A shocked look briefly crossed his face as he grabbed at his chest before he collapsed, dead.
Randee stared at his unmoving body as her respiration came in short, shallow gasps. Her hands went cold and started to shake. For a time, she couldn’t move or think. She had killed him, but he had given her no choice. Doubtlessly he would have slain both of them, or at least killed her beloved. Finally she crawled over to Marsh on watery legs. She checked his injury, blood staining her trembling fingers. Impelled into motion, she rushed to their saddlebags and withdrew a clean cloth. Grabbing a canteen, she returned to her love’s side. She washed the wound and bound it tightly. Retrieving a bedroll, she spread it beside Marsh and eased his limp frame onto it. She waited for him to rouse, avoiding a single glance at the body nearby.
Nearly a half hour later, Marsh moaned and stirred. As his keen wits cleared swiftly, he tried to bolt upward to challenge their attacker. Randee placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed him to the bedroll again, saying soothingly, “He’s dead, Marsh, relax. You have a nasty cut. and I don’t want it to start bleeding again.”
Marsh twisted his head and glanced at the body nearby, then looked at the pale woman sitting beside him. “What happened?”
Randee related her story in a quavering voice. “You wondered if I’d panic and if I could shoot a man. I guess I proved myself tonight.”
Marsh was concerned by the hollow sound of her voice and.the anguish in her green eyes. “You saved my life, Randee, but thanks doesn’t mean much at a time like this.”
“You were willing to do the same for me; that’s why you gave up your weapons. I tried to reason with him, tried to buy him off. He was going to kill us. I had to do it, didn’t I, Marsh?”
“Yes, love, you made the right choice,” he said comfortingly, then drew her down into his arms.
Time passed as neither spoke nor moved, only drew solace from each other’s embrace. Both had faced demanding moments-of-truth tonight, and both needed privacy to deal with them.
Marsh released her and sat up, saying. “I’ll get his body out of camp and check out the area. I’ve been real careless tonight, and I nearly got us killed. You stay alert and concealed until I return.”
Randee started to refute his guilt, but decided not to do so. Her words would only intensify his bad feelings, not remove them. As her father had revealed, Marsh needed time and silence to deal with this crushing failure. Admitting his weakness aloud had been difficult enough without her trying to appease him. His ego was bruised, his pride singed. He was unaccustomed to defeat and to being rescued by another person, especially a mere woman. She let him leave without a word, and obeyed his orders while he was gone.
Tuesday and Wednesday they traveled, but sighted nothing suspicious. They rode, rested, ate, and camped in near silence. Randee kept telling herself to leave Marsh alone while he worked through his emotions, but it was difficult, frustrating, tormenting. Each hour, he seemed to become more guarded, more troubled, more driven … more elusive. She hated this distance and coolness between them. She had tried to be cheerful, supportive, considerate; she had done everything she could to let Marsh know she was there for him when he decided to relent. Nothing seemed to work in her favor.
Did Marsh blame her for his vulnerability, his stunning defeat? Didn’t he realize he wasn’t the only man with superior skills and prowess? Didn’t he realize that no mortal man was unconquerable, matchless, infallible? He was riled by his careless slip, by the one-sided battle. He knew he could have been slain; she could have been slain. Was that the first time this unique male had faced real death, real defeat?
Yet, if the only things between them were sex and stimulating adventures, they did not have enough for a good and permanent relationship. If they couldn’t talk, couldn’t console each other, couldn’t share the bad as well as the good— couldn’t reveal their innermost feelings to each other—their relationship was nothing more than a physical one. If that was true, they had no future together. How long should she be “kind, patient, and understanding”? How much time and energy, how much of herself, should she give to this … arrangement before she made certain it would grow, deepen, and last?
Marsh was so accustomed to keeping everything to’ himself and to being alone that he did not realize he was shutting Randee out completely, and seemingly coldly. He had so much on his troubled mind. He was certain that Brody Wade was behind that bounty hunter’s attack, and Marsh felt to blame for rashly exposing his Storm Hayden identity to that jealous bastard. But, was Brody’s order given for only Storm’s death? How could the sheriff be sure that his fiancee wouldn’t be injured or killed, possibly by accident, by his stone-hearted hireling? Was Brody’s only motive to get rid of him and to force Randee to go home to marry him? His answers depended upon how much Brody loved and wanted Randee, on whether or not the lawman had believed her story …. Then, that business with George Light had him plenty worried and baffled. Why had the lawyer hesitated, postponed a deal with Randee? And what was so damn special about the Carson Ranch!
He mentally eyed his lengthy list of enemies and problems: Carl Bush, the Epson Gang, Foley Timms, George Light, bounty hunters, misguided lawmen, and possibly Brody Wade and Payton Slade. There were too many perils involved, too many dangerous people to allow Randee to continue working and traveling with him … .