Love's Bounty

by Rosanne Bittner

  “Well, that would mean staying on in Rawlins, and I doubt I’ll do that.”

  The thought brought pain to her heart, realizing that once she’d found her mother’s killers, Christian Mercy would walk out of her life forever. Suddenly she hated the thought of it.

  “I haven’t contacted my brother in a long time,” he went on. “He and his wife don’t exactly agree with what I’m doing.” He sighed. “Anyway, I don’t doubt for a minute that they would put you up and help you find a good school where you could learn the basics. Then you could go on to finishing school.”

  “Finishing school?”

  He took another drag on his cigarette. “It’s just a place where refined young ladies of education go to learn proper etiquette.”

  “Etiquette?”

  He glanced at her, smiling patiently. “Manners. How to dress. How much color to put on your face. When to wear gloves. How to cook, and how to be the perfect hostess. How to greet important people, things like that.”

  Callie shrugged. “No need for me to learn things like that if I’m going to live in a town like Rawlins. I just want to know how to read, that’s all. Might help me make money someday, help me get a job, like maybe work for the newspaper in Rawlins, something like that.”

  “It always helps to know how to read.”

  “Well, maybe you could stay on an extra month or so once we get back, just to get me started. I wouldn’t really want to go away and live with strangers in a place I don’t know anything about.”

  He turned and looked her over again in that way he had of making her feel uncomfortable. She felt embarrassed, wondering now if he was picturing her naked.

  “What if I took you?” he asked her.

  “You? Why would you do that?”

  He looked straight ahead again. “Just a thought. I could help you get to know people. Get you settled in a school.”

  “Well, I…that’s a right nice offer…and I’d feel a lot better if you were the one to take me…but then you’d leave again, and I’d be there all alone. No, I don’t think I’d like that.” Fact is, I don’t like the thought of you not being in my life, no matter where I am, she wanted to say. It hit her again that when this journey was over, that’s exactly what would happen. Chris Mercy would ride out of her life, never to be seen again. It actually made her want to cry.

  “Well, maybe I could stay on a little while,” he answered. “We have plenty of time to think about it.”

  She didn’t know quite what to make of his offer. Did it bother him too? The thought of them parting once this was over? “Do you really think I can learn to read good—I mean well?” Callie asked him.

  “Sure you can.”

  They rode without speaking a little while, and Callie thought what a complex man he was. Something had brought him to this place, hunting for wanted men…something terrible. “Don’t you miss teaching?” she asked.

  He took a last drag and crushed out his cigarette. “Sometimes. I might go back to it someday, when the time is right. I’m just not ready yet. Fact is, I’m getting used to this country. It’s pretty out here, and a man is free to do what he wants. A man can start new out here, build on new dreams…leave old, broken dreams behind.”

  The last words were spoken in such a way that Callie thought her own heart would break. “I’m real sorry, Chris.”

  He glanced at her. “For what?”

  “For your own broken dreams, whatever they were.”

  He looked straight ahead again. “Yeah, well, so am I.”

  Was it a good time to ask him what those broken dreams were, or would he just get angry again? Callie didn’t get the chance to find out. An arrow sang between the two of them, landing in the trunk of a tall pine ahead. They looked at each other, then looked behind them to see several riders approaching, shouting war whoops.

  “Shit!” Chris cursed. “Renegades! Ride hard! We’ve got to find some cover!” He whipped Breeze into a gallop, keeping a tight hold to the reins of the packhorses.

  “Get up! Get up!” Callie screamed to Betsy, slapping the reins against her neck and kicking her sides.

  Betsy charged after Chris and the extra horses, but she wasn’t as fast as Breeze and Night Wind, and she was trying to hang on to the mules besides. Betsy had trouble keeping up, and Callie was imagining what it would feel like if an arrow slammed into her back.

  “Oh, lordy, we’re gonna die!” she whimpered. She let go of the packmules and rode Betsy full-out, but the horse just could not keep up. Chris made it to a high rock wall where several boulders had spilled to the ground in front of it, some stacked on top of each other, a good place to take cover. Callie saw him jump off Breeze and lead the horses behind the rocks. Another arrow whizzed past her, so close she could feel the rush of air.

  “Chris!” she screamed. She saw something flash in the rocks and had no doubt it was the barrel of Chris’s rifle. She heard it fire, and she knew he was trying to cover her until she could get to shelter. Suddenly Betsy tumbled to the ground, and Callie screamed as she rolled off the horse. Pain tore through her still-sore hip at the fall, and now she could hear the war whoops coming closer.

  “Run, Callie!” Chris shouted. He fired off another volley of shots.

  Callie scrambled over to Betsy and grabbed her shotgun, then got up and tried to run, but it was impossible because of her hip. “Oh, Jesus God in heaven, help me!” she screamed. The next thing she knew, Chris was riding out to her on Breeze.

  “Come on!” he yelled when he reached her. “Give me your hand!”

  Callie reached up and he grabbed her arm, lifting her in front of him and charging back toward the rocks. Callie ducked her head against his chest and hung on, then thought she felt an odd jolt. They reached the rocks, and Chris quickly lifted her down.

  “Get my other rifle out of the supplies and grab the leather pouch of ammunition!” Chris ordered, crouching behind the rocks. “Your shotgun is no good for distance.”

  He started firing again, and Callie heard someone cry out. Good. He got one of them. She ignored the pain in her hip as she rummaged through the supplies to find the ammunition, then grabbed his spare rifle out of its boot on Night Wind and hurried back to Chris. That was when she noticed a growing bloodstain on the back of his shirt. “Oh, lordy!” she cried out. “You’re hurt!”

  “Just get over here and keep firing!” Chris ordered. “No time to worry about it now!”

  Callie crouched next to him, glancing at him to see the obvious. He was already pale, but he kept firing. She realized then that if Christian Mercy died, her heart would break into a million pieces.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Callie tried to ignore the fact that Chris could be bleeding to death; and poor Betsy lay in the distance, still kicking. It was only then she realized that both mules were down too, poor things. She wouldn’t be able to help Chris or put Betsy out of her misery if she and Chris couldn’t first deal with their attackers. Before this was over, they might both be dead.

  She took aim with Chris’s Winchester and fired, hitting nothing as far as she could tell. Chris, however, hit two more of the renegades, and the rest, about seven or eight more as far as Callie could quickly count, halted their approach and spread out, taking cover amid surrounding rocks.

  Chris fired three more times, hitting two more of them. One of those two got up after falling from his horse and tried to limp to shelter, but Chris took aim and fired again, hitting him square in the back.

  “Lordy, you’re a good shot!” Callie exclaimed.

  Chris handed his rifle to her. “Reload this,” he said, watching the surrounding rocks. “Give me the other Winchester. You still have some shots left.”

  Callie obeyed, opening the chamber of the first rifle and quickly inserting more cartridges. “I figure about five or six more,” she told Chris.

  “Once they take cover, it’s like twenty,” he answered. He closed his eyes and sank to his knees for a moment. “Damn! I should have
been more alert, especially out here.”

  “What do they want?” Callie asked.

  He cast her a look that gave her the answer.

  “Me?”

  “And the horses,” he added. “They don’t care about mules. That’s why they shot them. They just want the supplies they’re carrying, plus our saddles and the gear we have with us. They know they will have to kill us to get our guns.” He gazed at the surrounding rocks. “It’s too damn quiet. You watch ahead.” He grimaced and let out a grunt from pain. “I’ve got to…try to get someplace higher…pick them off from a better vantage point. They’re…probably trying to circle around behind us.”

  He no more than got the words out, when he quickly aimed and fired at a man Callie hadn’t even noticed, up high and to their right. The man cried out and fell, his body bouncing on several other rocks before finally landing on one large flat rock with a sickening thud.

  “Chris, your back. Your shirt’s covered with blood! You can’t go climbing around in those rocks!”

  “Got…no choice,” he answered. He removed one of his Colt .45s and handed it to Callie. “If they get closer to you, use this on yourself…right against the temple.”

  “What!”

  “It will be a merciful death compared to what they would do…if they even bother to let you die.”

  Swallowing back her terror, Callie took the handgun. “Don’t leave me here alone,” she begged.

  “Use your sense and your guns. You can…keep them at bay for a while. And don’t forget what I told you…about always being close.” He gave her a quick grin, but Callie could see the deep pain in his eyes, and he’d gone from a paler look to one that was more like a sickly gray.

  “Don’t you die on me, Christian Mercy,” she told him, her eyes moist with tears.

  Now the renegades were shouting back and forth to each other in a language Callie could not understand.

  “Tie the horses to that scrub pine!” Chris ordered before darting away. Callie remained crouched behind the rocks until he finally disappeared into a crevasse above her. Fighting an all-consuming terror, she hurriedly grabbed the reins to the remaining three horses and tied them to the stump of a scraggly pine that had managed to somehow sprout from between two boulders. A shot rang out, hitting a boulder to her left and sending pieces of rock flying. Callie ducked her face away, then took her place behind the boulders again, watching ahead, as Chris had told her to do.

  “Lordy, what am I going to do if he dies?” she whimpered. She fought hard not to cry. That would only spoil her vision and concentration. She jumped when she heard more gunfire. She had no idea if it was Chris shooting someone…or someone shooting Chris. She heard more shouts then. Were they rejoicing? She turned to study the rocks behind her. Nothing.

  She screamed Chris’s name but got no response. Maybe he just didn’t want to let the others know where he was. Maybe he’d already passed out and was bleeding to death. Maybe he was already dead. What if somebody shot him in the belly? She’d always heard that was a terrible way to die.

  She caught a movement to her left, then whirled and fired. Her eyes widened when, lo and behold, an Indian fell from a rock higher up, tumbling and rolling until he landed no more than fifteen feet away from her.

  “Lordy, I got one!” she exclaimed. “Chris! I got one!” she screamed louder. “Only three or four left!” Maybe less if Chris had killed another one moments earlier.

  “Who is out there?” someone yelled.

  Callie crouched low as the shooting stopped again. Chris made no reply to whoever had asked the question, and she realized then how stupid she’d been to call out to him. Now they knew for certain she was female. “Damn!” she whispered.

  “I ask again, who is there? I speak good English. We can talk.”

  More silence.

  “Whoever you are, we want only the horses,” the man yelled, his voice echoing against other rocks. “And some of your supplies. Give them to us, and we will let you live.”

  Callie decided this could go on forever if they didn’t find some way to flush them out. She watched the rocks above and still could not see Chris or anyone else. She decided that since they already knew she was female, what was the harm in doing what she could to bring them out into the open? If they wanted her because she was a woman, then they wouldn’t shoot her. There were other things they would rather do to her, and although the thought of it made her want to vomit, she decided she had to be brave now. It might be the only way to help Chris. She shoved the pistol into the front of her pants and stood up, raising her rifle in the air.

  “It’s just me!” she hollered. “You killed my man. Take the horses and get out of here!”

  Finally she saw one man raise his head, then a second man emerged from behind another rock.

  “Just the horses?” the one who spoke English asked. He came out from behind yet another boulder higher than the first two. Callie could see his wide grin. He was dark, his black hair a tangled mess. He wore white man’s clothes, with a red bandanna around his forehead. His rifle in hand, he stepped farther down. “Is that a woman’s voice I hear?”

  Callie prayed she was doing the right thing…and that Chris was still alive up there somewhere…and conscious. “You know it is, you filthy murderer!”

  Now she heard laughter, and two more men emerged from their hiding places. Callie felt her heart sink. There were more of them than she’d realized.

  “She is small but full of fire!” their leader shouted.

  He said something in his own tongue, and Callie figured he was repeating the words to the others, who laughed again, this time harder. She looked around. A sixth man rose from hiding several yards to her right.

  A sixth man! Lordy! It was hard to count when in a panic. Her guess had been wrong. What if Chris were dead…or passed out! “Oh, God, I’m in trouble now!” she whimpered. She took a deep breath, trying to retain a bold stance. “I said you could have the horses,” she shouted. “Nothing more!”

  “Oh, I think perhaps you have something better to offer,” the leader answered, still slowly approaching her. “I think that if you are nice to us, perhaps we will let you live.”

  Now the rest of them moved closer.

  “Perhaps I would rather die!” Callie answered, hoping she wouldn’t pass out from pure terror.

  “Nobody wants to die,” the leader answered.

  Now he was close enough that Callie could see an ugly white scar across his lips. In fact, he was just plain ugly all over, scar or not. Now they all concentrated their attention strictly on her. That was what she wanted—if Chris was still alive. She glanced above them again, sure this time that she saw something move.

  “Take off your hat, little girl, so we can see you better,” the leader told her.

  Callie swallowed, slowly lowering the rifle. “Why don’t you come and take it off yourself!” She sneered.

  “Put down your rifle, and I will do just that,” the man answered with a wide grin.

  “Not till you promise to take just the horses and weapons…nothing else,” she warned.

  The man only laughed. “There are six of us, and you are only one little girl.”

  “I killed one of your men myself, and I’ll kill more if I have to,” she told him. She raised her rifle. “You will be first.”

  The man stopped in place, losing his smile. “Please do not make us shoot you,” he told her. “It would be such a waste of a pretty girl.” He shrugged. “But then, I suppose once you are dead, we could still have some fun with you.”

  Rape a dead woman? Was there no end to the horror men would commit just to enjoy a woman? She began to lose some of her confidence. If they didn’t even care if she was dead first…

  “Should be a lot more fun if I’m alive, shouldn’t it?”

  The man grinned again. “Just as I thought. You do not really want to die. Just hand over the rifle, little girl. It won’t be so bad. There are only six of us.” He repeated the word
s to the others, and they all laughed again. Callie could hardly find her breath.

  Suddenly she heard Chris’s voice from behind some rocks not far away. “You were right, mister. Nobody wants to die, including you!”

  The voice took all of them by surprise, causing them to turn. Callie knew she had to act fast then. She immediately fired her rifle, catching the leader in the belly. He cried out and fell, but his screams were muffled by an explosion of gunfire, as Chris got off three quick shots, downing three more of the men. Blood splattered and bodies fell as Callie dived between two boulders, realizing then that the two remaining men were concentrated on Chris, heading up the hill after him. She wedged herself between the rocks and took aim, downing one of them when she caught him in the back. The other stopped to look, then turned on her.

  That was when Chris fired again, and the top of the man’s skull broke apart. He fell forward, and Callie grimaced. She could see the man’s brain. She crouched between the rocks again, waiting to see if any of them stirred. Only the leader was still alive, and he lay writhing on the ground, holding his belly.

  Callie knew she should feel some remorse for bringing another human being such awful pain, but she felt nothing. After hearing his suggestion as to what he would do with her, she decided he wasn’t human at all, so why should she feel bad about shooting him?

  Chris half stumbled, half fell down the steep escarpment then, and Callie limped over to him. “Chris! I wasn’t even sure if you were still alive! I was just trying to flush them out for you. I knew I had to do something quick, for your sake.”

  Holding his rifle in one hand, he put an arm around her shoulders, his breath coming in short pants, perspiration showing on his face. “Damn smart…idea,” he told her, his voice sounding weak. “I have to…hand it to you, Callie. You’re one damn…brave girl.”

  He managed a grin, and Callie felt proud of herself. Coming from Christian Mercy, she’d just received one great compliment.

  “It wasn’t so brave,” she admitted. “I did it only because I knew you were up there somewhere. I just wanted to get this over with, for your sake.”