Once a Maverick

by Raine Cantrell

  “Stay here.” The words were whipped by the wind and he didn’t know if Dixie heard him. He motioned with his gun for her to stay while he reconnoitered what lay in wait over the rim of rocks.

  Dixie saw his lips move but didn’t hear him. The motion he made with his gun let her know what he wanted. She knew he was in pain. By Ty would never have allowed her to go first. There wasn’t a crevice big enough for her to huddle in, and the slashing rain began to sting.

  “Be careful,” she shouted just as he moved to go over the top and out of her sight. She rested against a long slab of granite, feeling her feet go numb as rain soaked her boots. She had to pry her fingers free from her gun. She recalled what Ty had done that night in the cave to warm them and put her hand to her mouth, but it only helped for a few seconds.

  She couldn’t stop worrying that Ty had been gone for a while. Dixie shifted, trying to flex muscles grown stiff, and felt herself slide down the slab. There was nothing to grab hold on, nothing to stop her as she tried to order her chilled body to respond. She tasted blood mixed with rain when she bit her lip and looked up to see her palm badly scraped as she fought to stop the slide.

  Her boots hit a mud pocket. When she attempted to dig in, she slid farther down.

  Ty crawled back over the rim and saw what was happening to Dixie. He holstered his gun, uncaring if a bullet waited for him, and went after her.

  Scraped and bruised, he caught hold of her wrists, barely managing to wedge his boots between two rocks to give himself purchase. He saw the fear in her eyes, knew he had allowed her to glimpse the pain of his shoulder as he took her full weight.

  The instant her slide stopped, Dixie demanded that he let her go. She saw the strain etched on his features, knew the pain in his shoulder had to be unbearable. And caught his quick denial with despair.

  She struggled to find solid ground with her feet to ease the terrible strain on his arms. She closed her eyes briefly, offering up a prayer for help, then made the mistake of looking down behind her.

  The path they had ridden on had disappeared beneath the water rushing down the rock face. Below them, in the wash, a rising level of rapidly moving current swept deadfall branches and small uprooted bushes within its swirling waters. If Ty let her go…if she couldn’t hold on, Dixie knew it was her fate to be swept along in that killing current.

  One look up at Ty’s face and she knew he would never let her go. He had to understand the danger. He would go over with her.

  “Don’t even think about it!” he yelled to Dixie. He didn’t need to read her mind. The direction of her gaze was not lost to him. He knew the danger, knew it even as he fought and was unable to stop her from sliding down another few inches. The footing was treacherous on the rain-slicked rocks. He demanded more of himself. He had to hold on to her.

  Ty felt how cold her skin was becoming. Beneath his fingers he felt the fragile bones of her wrists. Dixie was strong. He repeated it to himself, but he knew how much her strength had been depleted. She was cold, and he was afraid she was already giving up.

  “Hold on tight to me, Dixie.” He could barely see the frantic moves she made with her legs as she tried to gain a solid foothold. He wanted to yell at her to stop, knew she was only trying to help him, but as he formed the order, she succeeded in jerking them both down another few inches.

  For the first time, Ty had to admit to himself that this might be the one battle he was not going to win.

  As if Dixie had the same thought, she called out to him. “Ty! Let me go!”

  “Not on a bet, lady. I’ve got something precious to collect from you. Remember that, Dixie. Just think about how you’re gonna sassy-mouth me.”

  He managed a firmer grip on her wrists, denying his own pain, feeling secure in his footing at last. As if to mock his efforts, the icy rain suddenly doubled in force. He was blinded by the new, harder torrent of water. His belly lurched with cold fear churning and his heart skipped a beat when lightning scored above them and he saw Dixie’s terrified face. Her skin was blanched of color. Only her eyes held his as her lips soundlessly formed his name over and over.

  He drew on strength he didn’t know he had left. He wasn’t about to let this damn mountain claim her. He swore nothing would ever take her from him.

  She sensed, then felt his redoubled effort to pull her up. She prayed, begged and pleaded for the Lord’s help. Dixie was terrified. But not for herself. She feared the ever-nearing lightning that could strike Ty.

  Blood was still seeping from her palm and made his hold on her left wrist slip. She bit down hard on her lip not to cry out the fear that held her in its grip.

  She kept her gaze on the fierce determination that marked his features until the rain so blinded her that she had to look away to clear her vision.

  The sudden feel of her boot wedged into a solid crevice sent hope streaming through her. “I’ve a foothold, Ty!” she screamed above the rising wind.

  Her left leg dangled uselessly, but she pushed hard with her right foot to take some of her weight and was rewarded with the gain of inches. She tried to find a tiny place with her left boot so that she could repeat the move, but her boot slid time and again. Dixie tried hard not to think of how long Ty had held on to her. Fear wasn’t going to win. She was not going to fall. As she repeated this to herself, Ty jerked her up and she found purchase on the rocks.

  “I can climb now. Let me go.”

  Ty ignored her demand. He’d let her go when he had her safe beside him.

  “Once more, Dixie. I know you can do it. Together we can make it.”

  She felt as if a layer of ice covered her skin. Each muscle burned from the continued strain. Dixie closed her eyes, gathering whatever reserves of strength she had left. It was difficult to admit, as she looked up at Ty, that she only had one more try in her. If she didn’t make it up beside him this time…

  No! She couldn’t think that way!

  “Ready?” Ty called out.

  Dixie saw him looming above her, dark, determined and defying the elements to make her safe. She tried to swallow and found she couldn’t. She had thought of Ty in terms of a man she could learn to love. Meeting his gaze, seeing for herself the firm promise within that, no matter what happened, he was with her all the way, forced the realization that love for him was already curling its precious tendrils around her heart.

  “Angel, it’s got to be now.”

  “Yes. I’m ready.”

  She saw the delicate balance he was forced to maintain to keep his footing. Her own wasn’t any better. Ty’s knees bent, his back arched to give him leverage. The moment she felt him pull, she tried pushing off her toehold and this time she found an edge for both feet. He did not let go, not even when she was head high to his belly.

  Dixie lay panting, on firmer footing now, Ty’s hands holding her elbows, urging her the rest of the way up.

  “A…min-ute,” she pleaded, curling her fingers around his gun belt.

  “I’ve got you, Dixie. You’re safe now.”

  Threads of exhaustion were in his voice. She managed a nod, no longer caring about the stinging cold of the rain, or the ever-encroaching lightning strikes. She was going to be safe and warm the moment she wrapped her arms around Ty. The thought didn’t surprise her; if anything, it gave her courage for the last effort.

  Ty side-stepped to a small flat rock shelf and seconds later she was cradled in his arms.

  “I thought I’d lost you.”

  She tried to smile, but Ty’s lips were covering her mouth. She tasted his need and surrendered to it, for it was her own. Her arms were slow to obey her mind, as her need to hold him increased. Her body strained against his, seeking warmth, comfort and the heated kindling of desire. She felt possessed by him. In long strokes his hands ran from her shoulders to her hips and back again. Her mouth burned from the urgency of his hard, hot kiss, and all she wanted was more. Death had come too close. Ty was life.

  When he lifted his head, she stared up a
t him, sipping the rain from his skin. At first she thought the shiver running up her spine was from the cold. But her belly clenched again with fear.

  Dixie tilted her head back, looking up at the sky, blinking rapidly as the rain fell. She hugged Ty, unable to voice her fear, unable to determine what caused it.

  “We need to get you and me out of this wet, Angel.”

  She jumped as thunder bellowed across the sky and a rapid fire of lightning flashes lit up the land around them. Ty slipped his arm around her waist, encouraging her to lean on him as he turned.

  “It’ll be sloppy going down, but you hold on tight, Dixie. I don’t want to relive these minutes again.”

  She didn’t need his urging to stay close to him. Fear churned in her belly. The rain had lessened, as if a curtain parted, for she could see how heavy it fell not more than a few feet in front of them.

  “Ty, did you see who was shooting at us?”

  “Not a hair. My God, but you’re like ice.”

  “I’m afraid, Ty. Don’t ask me—”

  She gave no thought to their precarious footing on the rocks. Dixie stepped in front of him. She had to make him understand. Her fingers gripped the front of his sodden shirt.

  “Ty, don’t go ahead.” Almost frantic now, she glanced around. They stood on the top of rocks, and before them waited another climb to avoid the churning water below.

  Dixie didn’t know what made her look around. Her scream was a silent one. There was a darker shadow up ahead, barely visible through the rain, which had increased.

  The undersides of the clouds lit as if fireworks had gone off and her cry was torn on the rising wind. It was a man.

  “Look! Ty, there he—”

  Thunder crashed and Dixie jerked in his arms. Ty had drawn his gun, barely able to make out the form of a man up ahead. It wasn’t until he heard the funny way she called his name that he realized she had been shot.

  “No! Damn it, no!” He caught her with one arm, firing blindly. He knew how useless his gun was at this range, but that didn’t stop him. Dixie sagged against him.

  “Ty?”

  Her voice was a murmur of pain, too low, confused, as if she didn’t understand what had happened. He lowered her down to get her clear of the line of fire and crouched over her.

  “Hang on, Dixie. I’ll get that bastard if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “No!” She clawed at his arm, trying to keep him down. “Don’t leave me. Please, Ty, it hurts.”

  He scrubbed back her wet hair, cupping her cheek. Rock chips flew up close by. Too damn close. Ty was able to see that the man wasn’t heavyset, which meant he wasn’t Thorne, and he was too tall for the kid. But before he could go after him, he had to move Dixie. If there was a God listening, he hoped his prayers were heard, because this was one hell of a devil’s pocket they were in.

  Beneath them, the ground shook from rolling thunder. Off to the side, rocks tumbled free. Flattened over her body, the only protection he could offer her now, Ty found that he had a store of prayers to say.

  The shots were fast and furious, keeping them pinned down. He knew his swearing was useless, but it held at bay his worry that he couldn’t even find out where Dixie had been shot.

  “Can you wrap your arms around me?” he whispered against her ear. “The lightning’s getting worse, Angel. I don’t relish being crisped up like a burned biscuit.”

  Ty knew the wound was bad by the length of time it took her to respond to his repeated plea that she hold on to him. He judged the strength of her right arm sliding over his shoulder and counted the ever-lengthening seconds until he felt her move her left one. He had a general location of a wound, but all he cared about was that she was alive.

  “We’re going for a ride. You just hang on as best as you can, Dixie. Let me do all the work.” He rolled her over as gently as he could, afraid to look at her face. He tucked her head beneath his chin, wrapping his own arms around her waist. He felt warmth on his shirtsleeves, seeping to his skin. In a moment of agony he closed his eyes. It was her blood he felt.

  Digging in his boot heels, Ty ignored the pain of rocks slicing his shirt as he twisted with a rocking motion to bring them closer to the far edge. When he had scouted the way before the shooting started, there had been a V-shaped depression that would make a natural slide. The water, this time, would be the easement to take them down below.

  “I don’t want you to be scared, Dixie. We’re gonna go over the edge. We won’t fall. And I’m holding you. You know I won’t let anything more happen to you.” Even to his ears the words sounded so damn empty, but they were all he had.

  Still he hesitated. No matter how careful, no matter how gentle he was, Dixie would get hurt. He wanted to spare her the pain, but like wanting to kill the man who had shot her, his wants and reality didn’t match. Dixie first, he repeated.

  Ty never knew what made him turn to look at the shooter. As if the rain were a curtain to be parted, he saw him clearly, a rifle raised to his shoulder, ready to fire at them.

  As far as he could see, the heavens had opened up. Lightning sizzled the very air he breathed. He watched, and saw, as if time had somehow frozen the moments, the bright light gleaming along the rifle barrel. Jagged forks of lightning struck, repeatedly. An unholy cry was cut off.

  Ty closed his eyes.

  There was a God. His prayers were answered.

  “Oh, my Lord…Ty? Did you—”

  “Hush, love,” he urged, cupping the back of Dixie’s head and pushing it down to his chest. “Don’t look. I wish to God I hadn’t seen it happen. But it was justice, Angel. Don’t ever, ever forget that.”

  There was no reason now for him to take a suicide slide off the rocks. He could take Dixie down slowly, safely.

  And he knew where he would take her.

  Home to the Rocking K, the one place he’d sworn he’d never return to, asking for help.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ty used his shirt to bandage her wounds. It wasn’t until he had her off the mountain that he discovered she’d been hit twice. One bullet had creased the fleshy part of her thigh, but it was the other one, the one that had hit her left side, that worried him.

  When she couldn’t drag herself another step, he carried her. He had no idea of time, or the distance he had traveled when the rain finally stopped. Dixie had passed out some time ago.

  He knew she needed shelter and warmth. Traveling at this slow pace was going to see the two of them down before he could find help. He rested, lifted her up into his arms and began walking.

  The rushing sound of the river led him to the cottonwoods. Ty didn’t waste time agonizing over his decision.

  He lay Dixie down, trying not to think about how cold she was. Searching the cottonwood trees, he found what he wanted. Two thick branches grew out head high from the trunk and formed a narrow V. It was high enough to protect Dixie, but not so high that he would find it impossible to get her up there.

  Using his knife, he stripped off the small, thick-leaved limbs, weaving them with those growing on the tree. He thought of the hours spent on the ranch with Hazer Scofield teaching him how to braid his own ropes. Ty tested the cradle he made with his own weight, then filled it with leaves before he carried Dixie there.

  Her small whimper of pain was her only sound as he lifted her up. He kissed her hand and knew she couldn’t hear the promises he made. Words weren’t what she needed from him.

  For a moment he stood, head bowed, shoulders sagging, fighting off his own exhaustion. He had to cover her and leaves were all he had.

  He looked back once, counting his steps from the tree to the riverbank, then he began to walk.

  When he grew too tired to take another step, he thought of her smile. When he stumbled and fell, he remembered how much courage she had and found the strength to go on. And when there was nothing left to keep him going, he began a silent litany of prayer.

  Dawn found him on his knees, trying to stand. The nicker of a hor
se, followed by another, forced his head up. The rising sun spread light on neatly planted rows and picked out the round huts thatched with arrowweed. Ty shook his head and struggled to his feet. He knew where he was—a Pima village.

  If he judged correctly, he was close to the Hassayampa River, far downstream from the mining camp. Rubbing the grit from his eyes, he blinked several times and studied the land around him. The peaks in the distance gave him his bearings. He was a grueling four-day ride from the Rocking K.

  But his luck had changed, for he could approach the village openly. The Pimas had been scouts for the army long before the Civil War, some had served in the mostly Maricopa volunteer unit—one of the few Indian units to fight in the war. He was dredging up facts from memory, anything to keep him from thinking about Dixie and what he would find when he got back to her.

  These Indians were farmers, and they had horses. Trade items were in short supply. He looked down at himself and without a moment of regret, knew what he was going to do.

  Waiting outside the cluster of huts with their attached, open-sided sheds, Ty looked over the horses in the corral.

  It was agony to wait when he wanted to shout his need for hurry, but to be refused a trade due to his poor behavior wasn’t a risk he could take.

  The blanket covering the opening of the far hut parted, and a man came forth. He would barely reach Ty’s shoulder. His hair locks were braided, a wide-rimmed felt hat concealed the rest. Ty noted the cleanliness of his shirt and pants as he drew closer. The man’s coarse, broad features and his moccasins told Ty he had guessed right, this was a Pima village.

  “Ty Kincaid of the Rocking K,” he called out, and to show that he meant no harm, he stripped off his gun belt, wrapping the belt around the holster and gun.

  “I’ve come to trade. Need a horse. A good one. A blanket and food. Savvy?”

  He itched with impatience while the man took his measure. Ty schooled his features not to reveal how desperate he was and had no idea if he was successful.