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Allie pressed against the ground, trying to quiet her thudding heart. Beside her, Janet’s eyes were wide and apprehensive, dark with a shared fear.
Janet raised a finger and pressed it against her mouth. Allie blinked agreement even though Janet’s movement was risky and unnecessary. She knew not to make a sound. They were less than twenty feet from the trail, so close they could hear their pursuers’ voices, hear the click of horseshoes as the riders searched around the loose boulders. It was terrifying to be hunted like this and she had to remind herself it was only a game. Other than bragging rights, she really didn’t have much to lose, not like Janet or Carter. Besides, this was an excellent hiding spot, surrounded by brush so thick no horse could possibly squeeze through.
Slowly her ragged breathing settled. Knowing she could hide was comforting. She also needed time to recover from their exhausting sprint and rock jump. Janet had put some thought into her game plan, even if she wasn’t forthright about sharing her strategy. The woman had even remembered to check the wind direction, making sure they ducked into the woods on the downward side of the breeze.
Something tickled Allie’s lip. An insect... Gross. She flinched, automatically raising her hand. Janet scowled and she froze, telling herself it was just a branch or a piece of dust or a harmless fly. It was not a spider. But her gaze shot to the ground. Was she sitting in a spider’s nest? Maybe a big black one was inching over her foot, trying to crawl up her pant leg.
She had the urge to jump up and escape the dirt.
This was not a good hiding place. Her darting gaze locked on a mound of dirt, peppered with little holes, only inches from Janet’s boot. An ant hill? She’d never been bitten by ants though, only spiders. Maybe spiders didn’t like to live close to ants, or vice versa. That was a reassuring thought, but only for a moment. Then her skin began crawling again and the only thing that kept her from leaping up and checking for spiders was the sight of Janet’s fearless face.
The woman lay sprawled on the ground beside their packs, oblivious to the ant hill, the flies and the possibility of spiders. In fact, she was taking this opportunity to study the map, coolly peering at the waterproof paper and then taking a compass reading. She wasn’t wiggling or itching, and she didn’t seem the type who would allow herself to be bitten. Her skin was healthy, flawless and tanned, worthy of an Olympic athlete. They had both sprayed on insect repellant while waiting to hear the horn. Janet probably knew that would keep the bugs away.
Allie squeezed her eyes shut, grateful for Janet’s company. Thinking calmly when one was close to a meltdown was difficult. But all she had to do was follow Janet’s lead, and if the woman wanted her to lie still for hours, she was determined to do it. Besides, her childhood fear of spiders was irrational. Most of the time they didn’t even bite.
She calmed her mind by mentally practicing a complex dance routine, periodically flexing her fingers and toes in order to keep her muscles from cramping. Janet finally broke the silence.
“Sneak back to the trail,” Janet whispered. “Make sure both horses are gone. I’ll stay here with our packs.”
It was obvious Allie would be the sacrificial goat on this team but that was to be expected. Besides, moving was preferable to listening for hoofbeats, and it would be a good chance to shake out her pant legs.
She nodded and rose to a crouch. Only one brown ant was on her leg and she flicked it off, copying Janet’s insouciance. Then she eased through the brush, freezing every time a twig cracked beneath her boot. She strained to hear any noise from the trail, a warning that either Carter or Monty lay in wait. So far though, the only sounds were the ones she was making.
Kate had mentioned that horses weren’t good with silent standing, especially in fly country. They’d swish their tails or shake their head or paw at the ground. So she listened for telltale horse noises. She heard no shaking of heads or jingling of metal bits. Even more reassuring, she couldn’t smell any horse sweat.
She was definitely perspiring though. The morning air was cool but her shirt stuck to her back, a measure of how amped up she was.
She paused behind the last of the tree cover, reluctant to step out by the boulders. Monty might not like to climb down from his horse but she had heard Carter offer. What if Monty had nodded, and silently led both animals away, leaving Carter in wait? That would explain why there were no horse sounds. This could be an embarrassingly short race.
She glanced over her shoulder, searching for reassurance, but Janet was back with the packs and out of sight. At least, they’d had a long break and if it were necessary to make a sudden dash, they were rested. But there was no way she’d be able to keep up to Janet without frequent rest periods. Not at the pace the woman had set.
She inched around the last tree, pulled in a breath and peered over the top of the rocks. There didn’t appear to be anyone around, either to her right or left.
Bolder now, she crept out to the side of the trail and checked the ground. It looked like only one horse had left, and for a panicky moment her breathing stalled. Then she saw the crisscrossed tracks and realized the second horse was following the first. Probably something the men did, in order to disturb the ground as little as possible.
“It’s clear,” she called.
A moment later, Janet burst from the woods, lugging both packs.
“Let’s go,” she said. “But we’ll stay on the side of the trail for a quarter mile. And don’t yell like that. Sound carries.”
“Sorry,” Allie whispered, reaching for her pack. “I forgot.”
“And you can carry the tent now,” Janet added.
Allie shot her a look. Janet had made a big show of carrying the extra weight at the beginning of the race, and it wasn’t even mid-morning. On the other hand, it was rather complimentary that she thought Allie could handle the extra load.
Allie obligingly attached the tent to the top of her pack. At least if they were separated, she’d have a place to sleep, and a zipper to keep out spiders. At that thought, her hands began sweating again because the idea of being separated from Janet was truly terrifying.
“Maybe we should do some sort of bird call,” she said. “Short for danger and a longer one, like this—” She paused to demonstrate a whistle. “That call will mean it’s safe and it will help us find each other. So we don’t ever get separated.”
Janet was adjusting the buckle of her backpack but looked up and gave a little nod. “That’s a good imitation. Do the men know you can do that?”
Allie shook her head. She’d mastered a range of whistles from hosting the bird-watching seminars in the hall, practicing right along with the participants. But Carter and Monty didn’t frequent the dance hall.
“Good,” Janet said. “So they won’t expect it. You can use that short one to let me know you’ve been caught. Or to warn me of danger.”
She didn’t say what she would do to warn Allie but that didn’t seem to be a consideration. It didn’t matter. Allie felt more in the game now, rather stoked that she’d made a helpful suggestion and wasn’t totally puppy-dogging behind her partner.
Besides, this was a comfortable pace. Janet was picking her way along the side of the trail, placing her feet on stones instead of dirt, careful not to disturb any branches. It was easy to keep up.
“A little bit further,” Janet said over her shoulder, “and we can start jogging again.”
Jogging? Allie gulped. She’d thought their earlier speed had been a flat-out sprint, not a jog.
“But we don’t want them to pick up our trail,” Janet added. “So for now we need to keep it slow.”
Allie gave a relieved nod. “Good idea,” she said.
*
“Dammit.” Monty pulled Banjo to such a sudden halt the horse tossed his head in protest. “We must be going the wrong way.”
Carter nodded but refrained from pointing out he’d made that suggestion a half hour ago. There was no way the girls could have come this far without leaving some sign. And they couldn’t just hide in the woods or they’d never reach their destination in time.
Wherever that destination was.
At this point, he and Monty didn’t even know the girls’ direction of travel. Except it surely wasn’t this way.
“Let’s go back to where we last saw their tracks,” Monty said. “They must have ducked into the woods. They sure as hell were careful about it. Both of them.”
Carter felt a prick of pride. “Allie’s doing okay,” he said, as he turned his horse and walked alongside Monty.
“Yup,” Monty said. “But once we spot them, she’ll panic. And she can’t keep pace with Janet so we should have her before noon.” He lowered his hand, purposely fingering the lariat hanging on his saddle.
“You’re going to rope her?” Carter blinked in dismay. “I thought we just touched their shoulder or something.”
“They have to concede, have to go down on one knee,” Monty said. “Sometimes they pretend to give up and then bolt back into the woods. That really pisses me off. A rope makes sure they stop.”
Carter jammed his heels deeper in the stirrups. Even the most skillfully thrown rope wasn’t foolproof. What if Monty’s vision wasn’t so good—the man must be pushing seventy. And Carter didn’t like the idea of a rope landing anywhere near Allie’s slender neck.
“Let me rope Allie, okay?” he asked. “If it comes to that.”
“Sure,” Monty said. “You’re the big expert. But the real challenge will be catching Janet. If you want to replace me in this job, she’s the one you should be gunning for. Allie’s a non-factor.”
“Sure she is,” Carter said, speaking a little too quickly. He felt Monty’s appraisal but busied himself slapping a deerfly on Hawk’s neck. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of hooves as they thudded in the dirt.
“Everyone loves Allie,” Monty finally said. “But you’re wasting your time. She’s running scared.”
“You mean in the race?” Carter stared over his horse’s ears, careful to keep his voice neutral, as if he didn’t give a damn about the topic. Monty might be close to retirement but the man was observant.
“I mean in life.”
Carter glanced sideways, forgetting to pretend disinterest. “What do you mean? She’s always smiling, happy. Surrounded by men...people.”
“Yup,” Monty said. “But they’re her security blanket. Like a horse that’s afraid to leave his buddies.”
Carter tugged his hat lower over his forehead. Allie was usually the center of attention, with guests as well as co-workers. He’d originally thought she craved the attention, but admittedly there was something about her that drew people. It certainly drew him. And though he wracked his brain, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen her alone.
Except yesterday when she arrived early to set up the roping dummies. She’d been alone then, trying her best to help, and he hadn’t even told her how much he appreciated the effort. He’d been too busy brooding over his aborted career, and then pissed that he’d almost lost his cat.
Maybe she’d escaped a toxic relationship too.
“Was she married before?” he asked. Part of him was amazed he was having this type of conversation with crusty old Monty. But he couldn’t deny his jolt of adrenaline every time he heard Allie’s name. So if Monty were willing to talk about her, he was more than happy to participate.
“Nope,” Monty said. “She came here fresh out of community college. Never goes home, never takes vacation, never talks about family. She’s a good listener so nobody notices. And Boss keeps her busy.” He gave a wry shake of his head. “But I’ve lost a lot of wranglers because of that girl. Their hearts get broken and they don’t want to stick around. And Boss will always choose her over anyone else, so be warned. Now let’s step up the pace.”
Monty urged Banjo into a lope that halted further conversation and greatly pleased Carter. He didn’t need any warnings about women, nor did he want to hear about all of Allie’s men. He most definitely did not want to hear about them.
They backtracked, loping when the ground was good, long trotting when it turned rocky. Eventually they reached the spot where they’d first spotted the frantic heel marks.
“They must have sprinted for a few hundred feet,” Monty said. “Then stopped, hid their trail, and continued in the same direction. Dammit. They’re probably an hour ahead by now.”
Carter said nothing. Monty wasn’t looking for feedback, just musing aloud. Besides, this was okay. He was rather relieved they hadn’t caught Allie too quickly. Certainly her cheering section back at the ranch would be pleased.
Minutes later, Monty jabbed a finger at the rocky side of the trail. “There,” he said. “That’s where they ducked off.”
A broken branch and some disturbed moss on a granite boulder marked the women’s exit. If he and Monty had checked a little further in the trees, they might have noticed that the women had veered off the path. But they’d turned their horses around, too quick to assume their quarry had bolted in the opposite direction.
The women had probably been lying close to the trail the entire time, laughing that they’d given them the slip. Heard everything they’d said... Carter’s mouth lifted in grudging amusement although he made sure Monty didn’t see.
“That Janet woman is a thinker,” Monty said, his irritation evident. “And the longer they stay out here, the more confident they’ll get. Let’s push the horses hard. The trail splits in five miles and I want to catch them before that.”
Carter stroked Hawk’s warm neck, watching his horse’s ears. Monty had the advantage of knowing this area like the back of his hand but Carter trusted his horse. And Hawk’s nostrils were flaring, his attention pinned on something in the trees.
“Let’s take a second,” Carter said. “Walk in and see if they’re still hiding. Hawk is interested in something.”
“You go in,” Monty said. “I’ll stay here and hold the horses.”
Carter stepped down from the saddle and passed over Hawk’s reins, not surprised Monty wasn’t eager to battle his way through the thick woods. No self-respecting cowboy would walk when he could ride.
He stepped around the boulders then pushed his way into the trees, stooping and shoving aside the clinging branches. The scrubby trees were so dense it seemed impossible that a human could penetrate far. One thing for sure, the women were motivated. And that was useful information; it would help him anticipate their future movements.
Five minutes later, he found the spot where they’d hidden. The ground was cold to the touch but the smell of insect repellant lingered, another useful piece of information. Probably Hawk had picked up the sharp smell. And the horse would do it again.
Carter eased back to the trail, grateful to escape the stifling brush and remount his horse. “Yes, that’s where they hid,” he said. “They’ve been gone awhile but I could still smell fly repellant.”
“Good work,” Monty said. “I bet we pick up their trail just around the bend. If their tracks disappear again, we can assume they’re hiding close by. It worked for them once so they’re likely to try it again. You can walk in and flush them out.”
“Sure,” Carter said. “But no roping, okay? Even if they jump out in front of you.”
Monty only grunted.
