Ride the Savage Land Read online

  “One of those blasted hombres traveling with the women.”

  Brock would have preferred to kill the two young men, but after following the group all day and riding hard to catch up, when the opportunity to grab Molly and make off with her had presented itself unexpectedly, he had seized it. He hadn’t figured anybody would come after them until morning.

  By then, he intended to force her into revealing what she had done with the money she’d stolen from him. She had either cached it somewhere, maybe even put it in a bank—that would be ironic, since most of it had been stolen from banks—or else she still had it with her.

  In which case they would have to go back to the wagon to recover the loot, and they could kill the two men then.

  But . . . one of the bastards had not only come after them, he had been able to find them. Then he had taken them by surprise.

  It infuriated Brock that they had fallen for the trick. “You didn’t see a mountain lion, did you?”

  Cooper shook his head. “Nope, we didn’t see hide nor hair of a big cat, nor hear one again, either. You think—”

  “Yeah, it was him,” Brock said bitterly. “Of course it was. Get the horses saddled. We’re going after—” He stopped short as his head suddenly spun crazily and everything went blurry. The whole world seemed to be whirling around him. He felt himself swaying, then he fell, unable to catch himself as he crashed to the ground.

  He didn’t pass out completely. He heard the startled exclamations from the other two men, felt hands gripping him and rolling him onto his back. Pain shot out from his wounded arm and filled his entire body. He gasped but couldn’t form the curses that wanted to spring from his lips.

  “Earl! Boss!” That was Hawthorne, sounding frantic. “Is he dead, Coop?”

  “No, he’s still breathin’. Reckon he just passed out ’cause of losin’ so much blood from that wounded arm. We gotta get him patched up.”

  Brock forced his mouth to work as his eyes began to focus again. “No! We need to . . . go after Molly . . .” He tried to get up, but Cooper held him down.

  “Can’t do that, Earl. You’re gonna bleed to death if we don’t tend to you. Goin’ after Molly won’t do any good if you die along the way.”

  Brock hated it whenever anybody argued with him, but somewhere inside his muddled brain, he knew Cooper was right. He sighed and let himself slump back on the ground. “All right,” he whispered. “Do what you got to do. But make it fast, and when you’ve got me fixed up, we’re going after that bitch and her protectors again.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, Earl,” Cooper said as he started to rip away Brock’s bloody sleeve. “We’re gonna get that money back, all right, and when it’s all over, we’ll send those two fellas straight to hell!”

  * * *

  Ace didn’t slow the chestnut until they had covered half a mile from the canyon where the kidnappers had been camped. Then he pulled the horse back to a walk and maintained that pace for a couple minutes, listening intently for any sounds of pursuit. When Molly started to say something, he shushed her.

  If she took offense at that, she didn’t show it.

  Finally, when Ace was satisfied that he didn’t hear any hoofbeats in the distance behind them, he said, “I’m sorry, Molly. I didn’t mean to be rude just now.”

  “Rude?” she repeated. “You saved my life, Ace! You can say anything you want to me, and as far as that incident a few nights ago is concerned, I don’t want you ever feeling embarrassed about that again.”

  The fact of the matter was that Ace felt a little embarrassed at that very moment. The way Molly was riding behind him and clinging to him, the soft mounds of her breasts pressed against his back. Every time he swayed in the saddle, he felt their intriguing movement.

  It was the second time he had experienced such intimate knowledge of her body, and while it was certainly pleasurable, it also made him uncomfortable.

  The horse’s sides had stopped heaving from the hard run. Ace allowed it to proceed at the slow pace for a few more minutes, then nudged the animal into a ground-eating lope.

  “Did Chance come with you?” Molly asked as she leaned her head forward over Ace’s left shoulder.

  “No, he stayed with the others. We thought it was probably the Fairweathers who took you, and that it might be a trick to draw both of us away, then swoop in and grab everybody else.”

  “That was good thinking, even if it didn’t turn out that way. And very brave of you to come after me alone.”

  “Who in blazes were those jaspers?” Ace asked. “I don’t think I ever saw any of them before. They sure weren’t any of the Fairweather brothers.”

  “No, they weren’t.” Molly hesitated for a second before going on. “I don’t know them, either. They didn’t use any names when they were talking to each other. I think maybe . . . maybe they just saw us . . . the ladies, I mean . . . and decided to take one of us for their . . . their pleasure, you know? I was the unlucky one they were able to grab.”

  “I don’t reckon they gave you any warning before they kidnapped you?”

  “No. I guess I wasn’t as alert as I thought I was. I never heard them sneaking around until one of them grabbed me from behind and clapped his hand over my mouth. I tried to fight him, at least enough to raise a ruckus and let you know something was wrong, but he was just too strong.”

  “The big one, you’re talking about?”

  Ace felt a shudder go through her, then she said, “That’s right. The big ugly one.”

  “I thought I heard one of the others call him Earl.”

  “Did you? That’s entirely possible.” She gave a shaky little laugh. “I was so scared, I didn’t even know what was going on half the time. I was just hoping that somehow, by some miracle, one of you would show up in time to save me. And you did.”

  Such praise deepened Ace’s uneasiness. He didn’t want Molly to develop some sort of crush on him out of gratitude. Lorena’s on-again, off-again efforts to flirt with him had already been enough of a distraction.

  After a while he ran the chestnut hard for another mile, then let the horse walk again. Alternating gaits like that allowed a horse to cover a lot of ground while preserving its strength and not having a bad effect on its wind.

  The sky had lightened and gradually turned orange and gold with the approach of dawn, and while they were walking, the sun appeared on the horizon and steadily grew brighter as it rose.

  It wasn’t long after sunup when they came in sight of the wagon.

  Chance had been watching and rode out to meet them, holding his rifle ready in one hand. Ace didn’t have the chestnut at a gallop, so that told Chance there was no immediate pursuit. Ace knew his brother would be cautious anyway.

  “Thank God!” Chance exclaimed when he drew rein beside them. “You found her. Molly, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, thanks to Ace. He rescued me from those men.”

  “I hope you killed all those blasted Fairweathers this time,” Chance said with savage intensity.

  Ace shook his head. “It wasn’t the Fairweathers. It was three strangers who stole Molly away. We don’t have any idea who they are, except one of them is called Earl.”

  “Strangers?” A puzzled frown creased Chance’s forehead. “Why in the world . . . you mean they intended to . . . ?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well . . . Blast it! I’m sorry, Molly. I’m just glad Ace got to you in time. He did get to you in—”

  “He did,” Molly said. “And I’ll always be grateful for that.”

  They had continued riding toward the wagon while they were talking. The other four women stood beside the vehicle, watching anxiously, and when the riders were close enough for them to see that Molly was with Ace and appeared to be all right, they ran forward to greet her.

  Ace reined in, and with his help Molly slid to the ground. The others swarmed around her, hugging her and talking quickly and excitedly. They got the story out of her
while the Jensen brothers dismounted. The other four women turned their attention to Ace, gathering around him. Each one in turn hugged him to thank him for rescuing Molly.

  Lorena went last, and her hug lasted so long and was so intense that Ace began to wonder if he was going to have to pry her arms from around his neck. Finally the honey-blonde stepped back and gave him a dazzling smile.

  “Dadgum it,” Chance said. “If you’re going to get a reception like that, next time I get to go after the varmints and rescue the girl.”

  “It’ll be just fine with me if there isn’t a next time,” Ace said.

  “Well, sure. You’ve already had five beautiful women fussing over you. You don’t care if I get that sort of treatment.”

  Ace was glad his brother had included Agnes with the others in that description. Judging by her smile, she liked it, too.

  Jamie stepped over to Chance. “Oh, hush. Stop your pouting, Chance Jensen.”

  She came up on her toes and brushed her lips across his cheek. A grin spread over Chance’s face, which caused the expression on Agnes’s face to fall a little before she covered it up with a smile. Ace saw it though.

  Everyone grew more solemn as Isabel asked a practical question. “Are those men going to come after us?”

  “I don’t know,” Ace said. “They might. I reckon it depends on how determined they are, and how bad the one I shot is wounded. The other two might decide it’s better just to take care of him and leave us alone from here on out. That’s what I’m hoping they’ll do.”

  “You and me, both,” Lorena said. “We’ve already had enough trouble on this trip to last us the whole way to San Angelo!”

  Ace couldn’t agree more with that sentiment. “Let’s get some breakfast and then see if we can get up that hill!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The chestnut was worn out from the hard ride carrying double, so Ace didn’t want to ask any more of the animal. To tell the truth, he was pretty tired himself, but there was still work to do.

  Because of the possibly increased danger, he and Chance modified their original plan. Ace drove the wagon up the hill while Agnes and Isabel rode alongside him on Chance’s cream-colored gelding. Ace’s horse was tied behind the wagon and plodded along, bringing up the rear.

  Chance remained at the bottom of the hill with Lorena, Jamie, and Molly.

  Once they were at the top, Isabel dismounted and Agnes headed back down on horseback to fetch another of the women. She was the best rider in the bunch and had no trouble handling Chance’s well-trained mount.

  Doing it that way, none of the women were ever alone, except for Agnes during the time she was riding back down the hill to pick up another of the mail-order brides. She traveled with Chance’s Winchester across the saddle in front of her. She had assured the Jensen brothers she knew how to use the rifle, and they believed her.

  The ascent up the escarpment by the entire group took longer, but it was the easiest for the horses. Out on the frontier, taking good care of their horses was sometimes the difference between life and death.

  It was safer for the women, too. They were protected by at least one gun all the time.

  While Ace and Isabel were waiting for Agnes to return, Isabel said, “You must be tired. Why don’t you go in the back of the wagon, stretch out on one of the bunks, and try to get some rest? I can stand watch, I assure you.”

  It wasn’t a good time for Ace to yawn, but he couldn’t help it. He stifled the yawn and said, “I’m fine. Between the Fairweathers and Earl and his two partners, there are too many hombres roaming around these parts who’d like to cause trouble for us. It’s better if I stay awake.”

  “If you insist. But if you change your mind, I will be very watchful.”

  Ace didn’t doubt that. He remembered the way she had produced that dagger from some hidden sheath, when he’d had no idea she was even armed.

  To keep himself from dwelling on his weariness, he said, “So you’re from New Orleans.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You still have family there?”

  A look of pain briefly crossed her face, causing Ace to wish he hadn’t asked the question.

  Then she smiled. “No, not anymore. My mother passed away a number of years ago. My father has been gone for two years now. Perhaps he had relatives somewhere, but he never spoke of them. He was definitely the black sheep of the family, as people say.”

  “Black sheep are just about all there is in my family, I reckon,” Ace said as he returned the smile.

  “My mother’s family is all back in Mexico,” Isabel went on. “She tried to keep in touch with her brothers and sisters when I was young, but it was difficult. So much turmoil below the border all the time, first this presidenté in power and then this other emperor, and people do not know from one week to another whether they will live in a palace or be stood in front of a wall for the firing squad.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” Ace said.

  Isabel laughed. “Perhaps I exaggerate. But only slightly.” She shrugged. “At any rate, I do not really know any of my relatives in Mexico. They might as well be no kin at all.”

  “Shame to go through life alone like that.”

  “Yes . . . but sometimes being with the wrong person is worse than being alone.” She waved a slender hand as if to dismiss that thought. “But soon I will be married, and all will be well.”

  “Who’s your new husband going to be?”

  “His name is Gilpin. Abner Gilpin. He edits and publishes a newspaper.”

  Ace had a little trouble imagining someone as glamorous as Isabel being married to a man named Abner Gilpin, but he supposed that wasn’t fair. People didn’t have much control over what they were named.

  “Well, I hope the two of you are happy together.”

  “From the letters we have exchanged—admittedly, not that many—he seems like a good man. All of life is a gamble, is it not?”

  “Chance and I were raised by a man who made his living with a deck of cards, so I reckon we know that better than most folks.”

  Not long after that, Agnes appeared at the head of the trail, riding Chance’s horse with Jamie perched behind her.

  “Any problems?” Ace asked as Agnes reined in beside the wagon.

  “No. We didn’t run into anybody on the trail, and everything’s peaceful down below.” Agnes gave Jamie a hand getting off the horse. “I’ll fetch Molly and Lorena.”

  That meant the last two riders up the hill would be Chance and Agnes. If he and Chance hadn’t come up with the plan themselves, Ace thought Agnes might have arranged things that way.

  He might ask his brother about that ride later, or he might not, Ace decided. Navigating all these would-be romantic entanglements was getting damned tiresome.

  * * *

  By the time all the ladies were atop the escarpment, it was late in the morning. Ace believed the horses hitched to the wagon had recovered enough from the steep pull to continue the journey. He left the chestnut tied to the back and rode on the seat with Agnes.

  She took the reins back from him, and he didn’t argue with her. She had proven to be quite a capable teamster.

  For the most part, the terrain up there was as flat as it was farther east. Hills cropped up here and there, but they were gentle and rolling. Clumps of post oaks dotted the landscape, with broad stretches of sand roughs between them. They were leaving the farmlands behind. It was ranching country, almost exclusively.

  “Have we reached the halfway point of the trip?” Agnes asked as she kept the wagon rolling along.

  “I don’t know,” Ace said. “I’d have to study that map of Lorena’s again before I could say.”

  In a quiet voice that wouldn’t carry to the women inside the wagon, who were talking among themselves, Agnes commented, “She’d like that.”

  Ace tried not to wince. He cast a wary glance over his shoulder. “I know. She’s got some funny ideas about marriage and fidelity.”
r />   “I suppose everybody has a right to their own opinion, even about something as fundamental as that.”

  “Yeah, I reckon.”

  Agnes cocked her head a little to the side. “She’s a very attractive woman.”

  “I’m not going to deny that,” Ace said.

  “Some people like to look down their noses at other folks. I believe in live and let live. If growing up on a farm taught me anything, it’s that nature nearly always finds a way to get what it wants.”

  “Humans are better than animals.”

  “Sometimes,” Agnes said. “But when you think about some of the humans we’ve run into on this trip . . . I’d have to say not always.”

  Ace couldn’t deny that, either.

  * * *

  Starting out, Ripley Kirkwood had felt complete confidence in his riding abilities.

  Riding in a park, or around a training ring at the stables, turned out to be completely different from starting across frontier Texas in a saddle strapped to a four-legged torture machine.

  Leon seemed to be suffering as well, although it was hard to tell. Most of the time his face appeared hewn out of granite. Whenever the group stopped, he dismounted and mounted again very carefully and gingerly. That was the only evidence of his discomfort.

  Thanks to the extra horses Jack Loomis had suggested, they had been able to maintain a fast pace since leaving Fort Worth. All five of the hardcases had spent a great deal of time in the saddle and had no trouble with the long hours of riding.

  Kirkwood’s pride wouldn’t allow him to reveal how much agony he was in. The burning pain in his thigh muscles alone was almost enough to make him scream. He didn’t believe he would ever be able to sit down again without hurting, no matter how soft and comfortable the chair was.

  Lew Shelby estimated that they had made up half the ground on the Jensen brothers and the mail-order brides. Another couple days, maybe a day and a half, and they would catch up with their quarry.

  Whenever Kirkwood started thinking that he hurt too badly to go on, he conjured up in his mind an image of Isabel’s lovely face. Either she would come to her senses and those delicious red lips of hers would promise to worship and adore him and stay with him forever . . . or else she wouldn’t be so lovely anymore. Leon would see to that.