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  “We’re not the only ones headed for the fort.”

  “Olsen’s bunch?” Chance asked.

  “The angle’s wrong, I think,” Ace said as he took the glasses from Slattery. “More like somebody’s coming from that mine of Howden-Smyth’s.”

  He lifted the field glasses to his eyes and peered through them, adjusting them slightly until he was able to locate the dark figures at the base of the rising dust. As they came closer, he could make out more details and realized he was looking at Eugene Howden-Smyth’s buggy, followed by a dozen riders, no doubt more of the mine owner’s hired guns.

  “That’s Howden-Smyth and some of his gun-wolves,” he told Chance and Lieutenant Slattery as he lowered the glasses. “Looks like they’re heading for the fort, and if they’re up to anything good, I sure can’t figure out what it might be.”

  “Blast it,” Chance said. “We need to be in there right now, talking to Major Sughrue.”

  Ace shook his head. “If we try to waltz in in broad daylight, it won’t get us anything except thrown back in the guardhouse, if we’re lucky.” He sighed. “No, we’re still going to have to wait until nightfall . . . and hope that things don’t go completely to hell before then.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Once they were in sight of the fort, Olsen dropped back so that he was riding alongside Evelyn Sughrue. He motioned for the troopers guarding her to move away. Marshal Hank Glennon rode nearby as well, so Olsen said, “Marshal, why don’t you take the lead for now?”

  Glennon started to object. As a civilian, he had no right to lead a cavalry detail. But when he saw the look Olsen gave him, he caught on, nodded, and nudged his horse ahead. Olsen and Evelyn rode side by side with no one else around them now, giving them some privacy.

  Evelyn frowned over at him and said, “This is rather strange, Lieutenant. I get the feeling that something is wrong.”

  “No, not really,” Olsen said. “It’s just that the two of us need to get some things straight between us.”

  “I can’t imagine what that might be,” Evelyn replied coolly.

  “Well, it has to do with your father. I think very highly of the major.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, because I certainly do, too, of course.”

  “And I’d hate to see anything bad happen to him.”

  Evelyn shot a sharp glance at him. “Why would anything bad happen to him?”

  “This is a rugged land, after all,” Olsen said with a shrug. “It’s filled with hostile Indians. One of the Apaches might sneak into the fort some night and stab your father in his sleep, and no one would ever know about it until it was too late.”

  Evelyn stared at him. “What a perfectly horrible thing to say!” she exclaimed.

  “Or there might be an accident. A gun going off while it’s being cleaned, say. But even terrible tragedies like that might not be as bad for the major as it would be if he was relieved of his command, discharged from the army, and disgraced. I think he would prefer a knife or a bullet to that, don’t you?”

  Evelyn looked angry now, not just surprised. “What’s your purpose in saying all this to me, Lieutenant?”

  “I just want to be sure that we’re in agreement when it comes to protecting the major.”

  “Of course,” Evelyn snapped.

  “So you’ll do anything in your power to see that no harm comes to him?”

  “I think that you had better speak plainly, Lieutenant Olsen, or else I’m riding ahead and this conversation will be over.”

  “All right,” Olsen said. “I know Major Sughrue would like to see you married and well taken care of. Setting his mind at ease where you’re concerned is the best way to protect him. When we get to the fort, Eugene Howden-Smyth will be there, and I think the two of you should get married immediately, or at least as soon as we can get Judge Bannister out here from Packsaddle.”

  “Married?” Evelyn repeated, evidently astonished by the very idea. “To Mr. Howden-Smyth?”

  “Eugene,” Olsen said with a smile. “You should get used to calling him Eugene, since he’s going to be your husband.”

  “But he hasn’t asked me, and I certainly haven’t agreed!”

  “Yes, but I know he wants to marry you. He’s mentioned that to me on several occasions. That big house he built for himself up at the mine is lonely without a woman in it, I suppose. You won’t ever want for anything, Evelyn, I can promise you that.”

  “This . . . this is all happening too fast . . .”

  “And if you’re married and living at the mine, your father won’t have to worry about you anymore. You won’t have to worry about him. I’m sure he’ll be absolutely fine.”

  “It . . . it almost sounds like you’re threatening him, Lieutenant. That if I don’t agree to marry Howden-Smyth, then something will happen to my father . . .”

  “Arizona Territory is a dangerous place,” Olsen said. “Nobody can predict what’s going to happen.”

  For a long moment she stared at him, clearly struggling to understand and accept what she was hearing. Finally, she said, “Ace and Chance Jensen were right. You are a villain.”

  He restrained the urge to slap her. Now that things were out in the open, he said in a flat, hard voice, “Do as you’re told and nothing will happen to your father. But you’ve got to cooperate. That means you’d better smile and act like you’re fine with the idea of marrying the Englishman. If you do, everything will be all right.”

  “I . . . I don’t have any choice, do I?”

  “Not really.”

  Another long moment passed until Evelyn said, in a voice little more than a whisper, “All right. I’ll do as you say, Lieutenant. But only if you promise that no harm will come to my father.”

  “You have my word that I won’t do anything to harm him.” He chuckled. “I’m afraid I can’t speak for the Apaches or any other natural threats, but that was always the case, wasn’t it?”

  Evelyn stared straight ahead as she said, “I don’t know exactly what you’re up to, Lieutenant, but I’m severely disappointed in you.”

  “Well,” Olsen said, thinking about the gold, “I suppose I’ll just have to live with that.”

  * * *

  When they rode into the fort, the sun was low in the western sky, not far from touching the peaks of the Prophet Mountains. Reddish gold light filled the air. Heat still lay heavy on the landscape, but a bit of a breeze had sprung up, offering hints of the coolness that would settle down with the shadows of evening. Normally, this was one of Evelyn Sughrue’s favorite times of day.

  But not today. She didn’t like anything about today.

  Her mind whirled madly. She had never felt any great fondness for Frank Olsen. There had always been something about him that made her slightly uneasy. Not his ambition, exactly, because she had known ambitious officers before, but perhaps a sense that he would go to greater lengths to get what he wanted than some men would.

  She never would have dreamed, though, that he would threaten to kill her father if she didn’t go along with his demands. And he wasn’t even making demands of her for himself, but rather for Eugene Howden-Smyth . . .

  She had liked the Englishman, more than Olsen, anyway, and she’d known that he was attracted to her. She wondered now if he knew that Olsen was going to force her to marry him. Olsen seemed to have come up with that idea on his own, but she had no way of knowing what the two men might have discussed in the past.

  All that mattered was that she protect her father, she told herself. She drew in a deep breath through flaring nostrils as she rode into Fort Gila with Olsen at her side.

  It looked like the entire garrison had turned out to greet them, along with Howden-Smyth and some of his men, who waited over by the headquarters building while the troops were lined up on the parade ground. Evelyn’s father strode toward her, a smile on his rugged face. He was there to help her dismount when she reined in.

  When her feet were on the ground, he put his hands on
her shoulders and looked intently at her. “You’re all right?” he asked in a voice drawn taut with emotion and strain.

  “Yes,” she forced herself to say. She glanced at Olsen to be sure that he heard her saying what she was supposed to. “I’m fine, Father.”

  He looked at her for a second longer, then abruptly drew her into his arms and embraced her. “Thank heavens,” he said fervently. “I . . . I’m not sure I could live with myself if anything ever happened to you, my dear.” He stepped back and rested his hands on her shoulders again. “I should resign my commission so we can go back east. I thought I couldn’t do such a thing because . . . because your mother is laid to rest here, but I see now that it might be best. It’s the safest thing—”

  Evelyn’s eyes darted to Olsen again. He gave a tiny shake of his head, so faint that anyone not looking for it might not see it. But Evelyn did, and she knew what it meant. He had no intention of allowing Major Flint Sughrue to resign, because that meant Fort Gila would get a new commanding officer—and that would ruin all of Frank Olsen’s carefully laid plans.

  “You can’t do that, Father,” she said, interrupting him. “I want to stay here.”

  “You do? Even after everything that’s happened?”

  “Y-yes. I do. I’ve . . . grown to like it here.”

  Sughrue frowned, but he didn’t appear to disbelieve her. Before the conversation could continue, Olsen stepped up, snapped a salute, and said, “Mission accomplished, Major. I’m happy to say that Miss Sughrue has been returned safely, and Sergeant MacDonald and the other deserters have been dealt with.”

  Sughrue turned toward him, returned the salute, and said, “I don’t see any prisoners, Lieutenant.”

  “They, ah, would not allow themselves to be taken into custody, sir. Regretfully. And some had already been lost to the Apaches.”

  “I’ll expect a full report on my desk in the morning, Lieutenant,” Sughrue said sternly.

  Olsen inclined his head slightly. “And you’ll have it, sir.”

  That report wouldn’t tell the whole story, Evelyn thought—but it would tell the story Frank Olsen wanted it to.

  Eugene Howden-Smyth couldn’t contain himself any longer. He started walking toward them and broke into a trot along the way. As he came up to Evelyn, he swept his hat off and said, “Evelyn, my dear! You’re not harmed?”

  She shook her head and managed to smile again. “I’m fine.”

  “That’s superb news! Like the news we have for your father, eh?”

  His words made her heart sink. She had hoped—vaguely, and without any real reason to—that he didn’t know what Olsen was up to and wouldn’t force her to go along with this.

  Clearly, though, Olsen had gotten word to him somehow, not only to be here to meet them but also to be prepared to marry her. This was their way of imprisoning her, she realized. It would be a luxurious prison, in the form of Eugene Howden-Smyth’s house at the mine, but still, she would be locked up there, unable to see her father or communicate with him unless Howden-Smyth was right there with her, controlling what she said and manipulating her strings as if she were a puppet.

  “What’s this about news?” Sughre asked with a frown.

  Howden-Smyth put his arm around Evelyn’s shoulders. She wanted to flinch away from him but didn’t dare.

  With a broad grin on his face, Howden-Smyth said, “You had no way of knowing this, Major, but your lovely daughter has done me the great honor of agreeing to become my wife.”

  Sughrue stared at him and after a couple of seconds repeated, “Wife?” He looked at Evelyn. “You and this man are getting married?”

  “Y-yes, Father.” Howden-Smyth’s arm tightened warningly. Evelyn smiled. “We love each other.”

  The major’s frown deepened. “Well, I certainly want you to be happy. Goodness knows, you’ve had little enough joy in your life since we came out here. First, just living in this wilderness and then . . . and then losing your mother . . .”

  Sughrue drew in a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and visibly steeled himself against the emotions running rampant inside him.

  “If this is what you want, Evelyn, then I give you my blessing,” he said. He glared at Howden-Smyth for a second. “Although it’s customary for the prospective bridegroom to ask the bride’s father for that blessing before things go this far.”

  “You’re absolutely correct, sir,” Howden-Smyth said easily, “and I apologize for not doing things according to proper form. The circumstances were a bit irregular, though.”

  Sughrue grunted. “Most things on the frontier are.” He paused. “Very well. With that settled . . . when will the ceremony take place?”

  “We were hoping as soon as possible, and to that end, I’ve dispatched men to Packsaddle to fetch Judge Bannister.” Howden-Smyth answered. “Perhaps . . . this evening?”

  “That soon?” Sughrue looked at Evelyn.

  This was for his life, she reminded herself as she said, “Please, Father.”

  “All right.” He smiled. “Anything my little girl wants.”

  She managed not to scream in anger and frustration, but it wasn’t easy.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Ace, Chance, and Lieutenant Slattery took turns observing through the field glasses as the afternoon waned. They had seen Eugene Howden-Smyth and his men arrive at the fort, and then later they saw the detail led by Lieutenant Frank Olsen ride in. Evelyn was near the front of the group, riding with Olsen. Her red hair shone brightly in the sun.

  Ace took the glasses and swung them toward Howden-Smyth’s hired guns bringing up the rear. He searched for the Indian who had tracked them down earlier and then gotten away after the brief gunfight. There was no sign of the man, and Ace found that troubling. The Indian could still be out there somewhere, searching for them.

  “At least Evelyn looks like she’s all right,” Chance commented as Ace lowered the field glasses.

  “She’s too valuable to Olsen for her not to be all right. The question is, how soon is he going to turn her over to Howden-Smyth?”

  “It’s too late in the day for them to start back to the mine,” Chance said. “They won’t leave until in the morning. So we’ve got tonight to turn everything around, but that’s all.”

  Slattery said, “You two strategize like military men, despite your youth. Are you sure you’ve never been in the army or had military training?”

  “Nope, we haven’t,” Ace replied.

  He didn’t explain that living on their own had given him and Chance some wisdom and maturity beyond their years—at least most of the time. Also, they had spent quite a bit of time around Smoke, Luke, and Matt Jensen, as well as the mountain man called Preacher, and those hombres were some of the deadliest natural fighting men the West had ever seen. Some of their knowledge was bound to have rubbed off on the brothers.

  “Have you given any thought to how we’re going to get into the fort?” Slattery asked.

  “The wall’s not really high enough to keep anybody out,” Ace said. “It’s just there to give the troops some protection if they have to fight off an attack. But guards patrol all the way around the inside of it at night. I heard some of the men talking about having that duty. So we’ll have to go over the wall at the back of the fort and time it so we can slip between the sentries.”

  “Which won’t be easy since they’re not very far apart,” Chance added. “And we’ll need to do it before the moon rises, or else they’ll spot us for sure.”

  “From there we’ll need to make it to Major Sughrue’s quarters and hope that he’s there,” Ace continued. “If we can talk to him alone, or even if Evelyn is there, I’m sure we can convince him of the truth.”

  Chance said, “Then he can send a detail to take Olsen by surprise and arrest him before he knows what’s going on.”

  Slattery nodded slowly and then said, “That sounds like a reasonable plan, but what about this man Howden-Smyth? If he’s part of Olsen’s criminal enterprise, as
you claim he is, then he’s liable to try to free Olsen. And he has a number of dangerous professional gunmen with him.”

  “That he does,” Ace agreed. “That’s why we’ll need the rest of your detail to get there as quickly as possible and reinforce the troops who’ll be loyal to Major Sughrue. Those hired guns aren’t fools. They won’t take on a force of cavalrymen that large.”

  “Two things concern me,” Slattery said. “The first is being absolutely certain that I can trust the two of you and that you’re not playing me for a fool.”

  Ace said, “All we can do is give you our word that we’re not, Lieutenant. And you have to admit, the story as we’ve told it to you does explain that mysterious report from Major Sughrue that reached the War Department.”

  “It does,” Slattery admitted. “My other worry is the major himself. We’re basing the success of our entire plan on being able to reason with a man who’s evidently half-mad with grief. Lieutenant Olsen has had months to work on him and weave his web of deceit. Will we be able to convince him in a matter of minutes that everything he believes is wrong?”

  Ace shook his head and said, “I can’t answer that, Lieutenant. And you’re right, there’s a lot riding on it. But I don’t know anything else to try.”

  Slattery lifted the field glasses to his eyes, peered through them, and muttered, “I wish we had a better view of what’s going on in there. I can’t help but think that there are going to be some surprises waiting for us.”

  “There usually are,” Chance said.

  * * *

  Night fell suddenly, as it did in these desert climes, darkness crashing down like a dropped curtain. Ace and Chance still wore the clothes they’d had on when they were brought to the fort from Packsaddle, but in the intervening days those garments had gotten sweat-drenched and filthy so many times, they were now just a mottled shade of grayish brown. That meant they would blend into the shadows well, as would Lieutenant Slattery’s dark blue uniform. Slattery left behind his hat with its crossed sabers insignia that might catch a reflection of starlight, as well as his scabbarded saber. The three men took off their gunbelts, shoved revolvers in waistbands, and draped shirttails over them, also to guard against a glint of silver from the stars. Extra cartridges went in their pockets.