Chapter One

Colorado, 1870

Rex Utah never figured his last day on earth would be at the end of a rope, swaying in the wind with regrets on his mind. He stepped outside of the jailhouse door and hesitated. With all his strength, he struggled to loosen the ropes tied around his wrists. A large wooden structure loomed over him. This was the end.

“Move it.” Sheriff Baker of Chelsea shoved him toward the steps of the gallows. “Damn young buck. You should’ve left town after the barroom brawl the other day. Now you’ve got yourself in a heap of trouble.”

“I told you.” Rex pulled his arm free from the sheriff’s tight grip. “I didn’t kill the bank teller. I was with a prostitute at the Broken Steer saloon at the time of the robbery. Ask her.”

“You’re out of luck.” The sheriff spit out his chewing tobacco and gave Rex a crooked smile. “That gal had to suddenly leave town last night.”

“I’m not a killer.” Rex snarled.

The sheriff took him by the neck and pushed him forward. The wooden steps wobbled from both their weights. “Yeah, I suppose you didn’t steal the money from the bank safe either.” He led Rex to the hanging rope while a deputy stood guard over him with a rifle.

“Damn it. You have no proof. I demand a fair trial.”

“Don’t need one.” The sheriff slipped the noose around his neck and tightened it.

Everything suddenly became clear to Rex. He recalled seeing the sheriff play poker with some rough looking cowboys in the saloon two days before the bank robbery. He had been on a winning streak which was surprising since Rex had easily cleaned out the sheriff’s pockets more than once the day before. The guy was the worst poker player he’d ever seen. The cowboys at the table had even paid a prostitute to take the sheriff upstairs, which he thought odd at the time. Now he knew why.

“You’re somehow involved with the robbers.” Rex turned to the sheriff’s deputy. “Stop him. He was paid off.”

“Shut your mouth.” The sheriff’s cheeks blushed. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes narrowed at the deputy. “Don’t move.”

“Why would you hang a man before you even found out where he stashed the money from the bank robbery?” Rex could hardly swallow as the rough rope threads tightened and pinched the skin on his neck. He didn’t dare move an inch.

“Yeah, where’s the money?” The deputy stepped forward and took his hand off the drop lever.

The sheriff grabbed Rex’s shirt and looked him in the eye. “I’ve got two witnesses who said the killer rode an Appaloosa. You have the only one in town. You got any last words, boy?”

The feeling of impending doom came over Rex. He was out of options. He figured he’d better stop his accusations, or the sheriff wouldn’t even let him say a final prayer. “I’d like a few minutes for some private thoughts before you do the deed.”

Smiling, the sheriff stepped back from him. “Be quick about it.”

Rex glanced down at the three prostitutes crowded around the base of the gallows. Tears slipped down their cheeks. He gave them his best smile. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure. Take care of yourselves.” Their whimpers grew louder.

He had to admit he had one hell of a good time this past week. He’d drunk whiskey until his gut hurt. He gambled away his money without a care. Rex even took a different woman to bed every night. It all started when he decided to make his way back to the Cohen ranch to visit Charlie. The old cowboy had taken him in and raised him after some renegade Mexicans killed his parents. He owed him his life. But when he started thinking about Charlie’s daughter, Lillie, he stopped to have a drink at the local brothel. One thing led to another. After all, facing her wouldn’t have been pleasant. The last time they’d seen each other he’d taken her virginity. Unable to face Charlie, he packed up his meager belongings and left the two people he loved the most. He’d always regretted his actions. At least his conscience wouldn’t bother him anymore. He’d be dead soon.

Rex closed his eyes and lifted his face toward the sky. The warm rays of sunshine made him feel at peace. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down his chest. An image of Lillie appeared in his mind’s eye. She smiled at him. That dimple he loved to kiss appeared on the side of her cheek. He sighed. This is how he’d always remember her.

“I’m ready. Let’s get this over with, Sheriff.” The town preacher appeared beside him and began reciting the death prayer. The sheriff put the hood over his head. He waited for the inevitable and the last line of the prayer which always ended with God have mercy on your soul.

****

Lillie Cohen signaled her men. They slipped their black bandanas up over the bridge of their noses. She lay low over her big roan stallion as she galloped toward the mining town of Chelsea with ten men by her side. Her heart raced. Fear drove her forward. She prayed she wasn’t too late. How could Rex have gotten himself into this predicament? She didn’t want to believe her ranch hand when he returned from town yesterday with word that Rex Utah would hang at high noon today.

A flurry of emotions had overwhelmed her. She’d fled straight to the barn loft. It was a special place where they had discovered the true meaning of love and passion. All those wonderful memories sparked to life again inside her. Then her heart broke all over again when she remembered how Rex had suddenly left the ranch without saying a word to anyone. Damn him for making her cry herself to sleep last night. It had been a long time since she let her feelings for him resurface.

Now, thanks to her father’s persistence, she had no choice but to rescue Rex. She refused to let her father rise from his sickbed to save him from the hangman’s noose. Lillie raised her whip in the air to signal the ranch hands behind her. The thunderous pounding of horses’ hooves sent a whirlwind of dust into the air. She uncoiled her bullwhip as the gang drew closer to the crowd of people gathered around the gallows. The whip’s recoil sent a sharp crack through the dead silence surrounding the surprised spectators. Women screamed, grabbed their children, and ran inside the buildings along with the men. She had made sure her gang had dressed all in dark clothing with bandanas covering the lower part of their faces to hide their identity. She prayed no one would recognize them.

Lillie eyed the sheriff in the distance. More panic overwhelmed her at the sight of him reaching for the lever that would drop the floor beneath Rex’s feet.

“Jose!” she screamed. Her best gunman drew his revolver and fired. His bullet hit the wooden lever startling the sheriff who stepped back from it. His deputy raised his hands in the air trying to avoid any confrontations.

Lillie pulled her horse up in front of the gallows. She took in the man with the leather vest and unbuttoned shirt flapping in the breeze. He stood there helpless with a rope around his neck. A glimpse of his sweaty bare chest glistening in the sunlight evoked feelings she didn’t like. Feelings she never expected to feel again. Thank goodness, a black hood covered Rex’s face. Without a doubt, he would be even more handsome than the last time she ran her fingers through his wavy hair. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye yet. Lillie took in his full length. Rex was no longer the slim teenage boy she remembered. Six years had changed him into a man with a well-developed body. Of course, she’d matured too. Past feelings and emotions erupted in the pit of her stomach. All those nights she had lain in bed crying, praying for him to return. She hated Rex. A surge of anger soared through her veins. Her horse, feeling the tension in her body, reared. Her hand tightened on the handle of her whip. She relished the sound of the crack as it sliced through the air leaving a red mark on Rex’s bare chest.

Lillie then rode up to her ranch manager. “Jose, take him. We don’t stop riding until we get to the bend in the river.” She took one last look at Rex and galloped away.

****

Rex no sooner heard the hum of the whip when a sharp sting zipped across his chest startling him. “What the hell is going on?” The ruckus around him gave him a sliver of hope.

“Drop your weapons or you’re dead men.” someone yelled at the sheriff and deputy standing behind him.

Rex struggled with the ropes binding his hands. Someone yanked the hood off his head and slipped the noose off his neck. He squinted into the bright sunlight. A masked man stood before him, pulled out a bowie knife, and cut the ropes from his wrists. He stared at the familiar eyes blinking back but couldn’t picture the man behind the bandana.

“Amigo, what are you going to do, stand there and let them attempt to hang you a second time? I’m not saving your sorry ass twice.”

“Jose.” Rex smiled back at his childhood friend. He then jumped onto the spare horse from the wooden platform. He urged the chestnut into a gallop as he followed Jose and the rest of the gang out of town. Behind him, the angry voice of the sheriff yelled to get a posse together. By then he’d be long gone. They’d never catch him.

Rex galloped along with the rest of the men for several miles. They stopped at a grouping of trees when they reached the river. He didn’t recognize most of the men who had come to his rescue, but he made a point to thank them anyway. He never expected Charlie would be the one to come to his aid after all these years. He slid off his horse and looked for the old man who held a special place in his heart.

A man slapped the back of his shoulder. “You almost got that long neck of yours stretched out of shape today.”

Rex laughed and turned around to shake Jose’s hand. “Amigo, I thought you were dead. I heard you got shot.”

“Yeah, but I’m tough like old leather.” Jose’s eyebrow arched up, and he leaned in closer. “You heal fast when you have a good-looking woman taking care of you and a bottle of whiskey by your bed.”

Rex grinned and shook his head. He glanced around. “Where’s Charlie? I’m surprised he came to my rescue.”

Jose took a drink from his canteen and then offered water to him. “Charlie isn’t here, but he ordered us to fetch you.”

Rex swiped at the water dripping down his chin. “Then who the hell is the guy with the bullwhip?”

His friend looked away. “Well…”

“Jose?”

“Do you remember Charlie’s daughter, Lillie?”

Startled, Rex grabbed the front of Jose’s shirt. “You mean to tell me you let a young innocent girl ride into town with guns blazing. I ought to have you horse-whipped.” He hadn’t heard her name spoken aloud in a long time, only to himself in his dreams. No doubt, Lillie had taken her anger out on him with the damn bullwhip. He’d figured she’d be over him by now and had moved on with her life. He hated to admit it, but he’d lost track of how many years he’d been gone from the ranch.

“She is not a young girl.” Jose frowned and shoved Rex back from him. “You don’t know Lillie anymore. You’ve been away too long. She has changed. I think she’ll be too tough for even you to handle.”

“We’ll see about that.” Rex hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Where is she?”

“Probably down by the river.” Jose walked away and yelled back over his shoulder. “Yell, if you need my help. You’re going to wish we had let you hang.”

Rex ignored Jose’s last sentence. He focused on finding Lillie as he took long strides toward the grove of willows. Excitement mixed with curiosity stirred inside him. He pushed back low hanging branches blocking his path. The sound of rushing water skipping over rocks drew him forward.