In Close Pursuit

by Colleen French

  "You could have just left me to let the snake finish me off."

  "I wouldn't leave my partner behind." He brought her hand to her lips, kissing her fingers one by one. "I want to tell you how sorry I am that I hit you the other night."

  "Stop apologizing. I hit you first."

  He shook his head emphatically. "It doesn't matter. It's not the same thing."

  Her eyes met his. "To me, it is, Adam. I shouldn't have hit you no matter how mad you made me."

  "Let's forget about it, then. I've got a rabbit. I'll boil it and you can have some broth."

  She wrinkled her nose. "Broth? I want roasted rabbit. I'm starving."

  He laughed. "All right. But let's have a look at that leg first."

  She looked up. "Do we have to?"

  He pushed back her blanket, taking care not to reveal any more of her leg than necessary. If he had any hope at winning Jessica's heart, he knew he would have to tread carefully. The next time they made love it would have to be on her initiation, not his. "It looks much better."

  Jessica looked down, then groaned and turned away. "It looks like it's going to fall off!"

  "Just be glad you didn't see it yesterday," Adam teased, touching her calf gently.

  She watched him press the streaky red and black flesh in several places and then cover it again with the blanket. "It's hard to believe one little snake could do that. It didn't even hurt when it bit me."

  Adam rose to his feet. "You were lucky, damned lucky. Now let's see what we can do with this rabbit."

  "I'd help," she offered, resting against her saddle. "But I don't think I'm quite up to it."

  "You just rest. After we eat we'll see about getting you on your feet and down to the creek."

  "You telling me I could use a bath?"

  Adam glanced over at her from where he was assembling the spit. Images of Jessica's naked form in his arms came floating back.

  She blushed as she recalled what had happened a few days ago in the creek. But it seemed like that had been years ago . . . almost as if it hadn't happened. But Jessica knew that it had happened and she was afraid it might happen again. She couldn't let herself love Adam; she couldn't let him love her. They were out here searching for the Black Bandit and once they found him, once Jessica got her revenge, she would leave Adam and never see him again. That was the way she wanted it.

  "Jess . . ." Adam's voice broke through Jessica's thoughts.

  "Mmm?" She looked up guiltily.

  "You feel all right?"

  She nodded. "Just tired."

  "Lay back and rest. Take a nap. I'll wake you when the rabbit's done."

  "You'd better," she answered as she closed her eyes. She didn't want to look at him, at his shiny black hair. She didn't want to watch the way the bare muscles of his arms and chest flexed as he worked. She wished he'd put on his shirt.

  The next thing Jessica knew, Adam was shaking her. "Dinner's on," he murmured in her ear. "Up to it?"

  She opened her eyes to find that the sun had set. A fire crackled only a few feet from her and the heavenly smell of roasted rabbit wafted through the air. She took a deep breath. "That smells wonderful."

  He helped her sit up.

  She felt woozy the minute she lifted her head off the saddle she was using for a pillow. Adam caught her arm and steadied her.

  "This is ridiculous," she complained.

  "Give it time. You're bound to be weak after not eating for a few days."

  She smiled at him. "You're a good nurse. I hate sick people."

  "Remind me not to get sick while you're around then."

  "You'd better not." She accepted the plate he offered her. "I've already put us behind by three days and I can't see me riding tomorrow."

  Adam lifted a piece of delicately roasted rabbit off his plate. "It may not matter. Our Mr. Caine may well be sitting in a saloon somewhere celebrating."

  "You can go on without me if you want." She chewed on a leg. "I told you I wouldn't hold you back."

  "We'll stay here a day or two until you get your strength, then we'll head for the nearest town. You can catch a stagecoach to Promontory Point. There you can get that train to Seattle." Once Adam captured the Black Bandit, he'd head for Seattle and Jessica. It was difficult for him to imagine courting a woman, but the thought had crossed his mind.

  Jessica stopped chewing. "Train to Seattle! What are you talking about?"

  He stared at her across the campfire. "You certainly don't think you're going on with me. You nearly died!"

  She shook her head, attacking the piece of rabbit again. "I swear, Adam Sern, you've got the thickest head! I set out to catch the Black Bandit who killed my brother and I don't intend to give up. I want my carpetbag."

  "I'll bring you your damned carpetbag, if he's still got it."

  Jessica's green eyes narrowed dangerously. "He's still got it all right, and I intend to get it back."

  Adam took a drink of water from his cup, letting her words spin in his head. Damn, but Jessica was determined. He admired her for it. There'd be few men who would go on after what she'd been through since they left Loco.

  "All right," Adam conceded. "We'll just wait until you're up to riding, then we'll find that town, I'll send a wire to the Union Pacific. Then we'll see what information we can pick up."

  "No." She pointed at him. "You go tomorrow. I'll stay here and rest. By the time you get back in a day or two, I'll be fit to ride."

  "I can't leave you here!"

  "I'd leave you here if you were the one who'd been bit."

  "Jess"—he tried to speak calmly—"it's not the same thing. Why do you insist upon comparing us? You're a woman for Christ's sake!"

  "A woman who had to steal what money was rightfully hers, sneak out of a house in the middle of the night with her little brother and come across the country alone! A woman who shot and killed a man on a mountain a week ago!" She set down her plate, no longer hungry. "I'm your partner, Adam. You said so yourself. We're equals. It's the only way we can make this work. If you're not in agreement, you can just ride out now. I'll go on my own when I'm ready."

  Adam wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted to kiss away the deep crease that ran the length of her forehead. He wanted to hold her, to ease the pain he heard in her voice. Instead he just sat there, staring at her across the open flames.

  When Adam made no response, she lay down and pulled her blanket over her shoulders, leaving him to his own thoughts.

  At sunrise Adam helped Jessica down to the creek where she bathed and then dressed in her own clothing. He left her plenty of horse chips for a campfire, fresh rabbit, plus dried foodstuffs from the saddlebags.

  "I don't feel right leaving you out in the open like this," he told her as he saddled Zeus.

  She rested her back against a rock, soaking her injured calf in the creek. "We don't have any choice. I'll be fine. No one's been through here in days."

  "You've got Shiner's rifle?"

  "And ammunition. Got my derringer, too." She hobbled to her feet. Her leg throbbed when she stood, but she knew she needed to keep her circulation moving.

  Adam swung into his saddle. "You see anyone coming, Jess, and you hide along the riverbank. Don't let anyone see you."

  "You don't think someone's going to realize I'm here when they see this camp?" She shifted her weight off her bad leg as best she could.

  "Jessica—" He took a deep breath, annoyed by her flippant attitude. She was such an innocent. She didn't realize what dangers surrounded her. But maybe it was better that way. A man could drive himself crazy imagining all the ways he could die. "Just do what I say. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  "Don't forget those herbs I want for my leg."

  "I won't." He pushed his black hat onto his head and picked up Zeus' reins.

  "Go on," Jessica urged. "The sooner you go the sooner you'll get back." She gave Zeus a slap on his hindquarter and the Appaloosa leaped forward.

  Jessica watched Adam
ride north, his blue-black hair blowing over his broad shoulders. She smiled, waving. Her chest felt tight, not because Adam was leaving her behind, but because she knew she could never give him what he wanted. The other night he had said he was falling in love with her. She couldn't allow that to happen. He deserved better. She had no intentions of ever loving any man. She sighed, wondering if there had been no Jacob . . . would she have felt differently?

  Jessica lowered herself to the ground to give her leg a rest. She couldn't think about Adam now, or about the feelings he stirred inside her. The Black Bandit was her concern. She had to get better so that she could go after him and his men.

  The morning passed and Jessica rested on the creek bank, drinking when she was thirsty, napping when she was tired. Sometime late in the afternoon a strange sound woke her. For a moment she lay on the ground, listening, wondering what the rumbling was. It was a strange vibration in the ground. Then, suddenly, she sat up, looking to the east. Hoofbeats!

  Jessica pushed herself up off the ground and grabbed Shiner's old Henry. She looped a belt of ammunition over her shoulder. She could see the horses now, racing toward her. There were men on horseback. She could hear their voices as they hooted and hollered.

  Suddenly her mouth went dry. Indians! She thought of the horse thieves Adam had told her about. The Kiowa, Crooked Nose, and his band of renegade Utes.

  They spotted her seconds after she spotted them. A rifle shot echoed across the bare plateau. An arrow whizzed past her head.

  Jessica stumbled down the creek bank. She couldn't run and she doubted she had the strength to mount Hera. Of course it was too late for that now. The Indians were headed straight for her.

  Jessica threw herself down on the bank and fired. On the second shot a man fell from his horse. Another arrow flew over her head. Bullets whistled through the air. She shot a second man off his horse. The Indians suddenly split into two groups, one taking the herd of horses north, the other group backing just out of her firing range.

  Jessica panted as she reloaded. She was petrified. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Why had she let Adam go off without her? How could she have been so stupid as to have let a snake bite her, for God's sake! There were at least twenty Indians out there. She didn't have a chance in hell.

  Jessica rested her cheek on the bank, parting the grass and reeds. The Indians who had remained, twelve maybe, were talking among themselves. Then they split into groups.

  Hera whinnied.

  Jessica's eyes darted back and forth trying to watch the Kiowa leader and the three groups all at once. Then she saw her Appaloosa being led away. She fired at the redskinned thief, but missed.

  A rustling sound in the grass behind her made her turn her head. She saw no movement, but the hair bristled on the back of her neck. Her hands were trembling so badly that she feared she'd pull the trigger of her rifle unintentionally.

  One of them was behind her. She could feel his presence in the still, hot air of late afternoon.

  The instant she saw the Indian move in the grass on the far bank, she fired. He bellowed, the force of the bullet pushing him backward. His blood was a brilliant red that stained the brown and green grass. Slowly his rifle slipped from his hands.

  Jessica turned back.

  The leader of the Indians, who had remained just out of her firing range, barked a command. Slowly the braves who had not gone with the horse herd, made their way back to him. There was more talking. A few disgruntled protests. Then the men squatted, and watched.

  Jessica knew she'd hear no more from them until nightfall.

  Chapter Twelve

  It seemed as if night would never come. Jessica lay on her stomach in the wet grass, her bare feet dangling in the water. Her leg hurt so badly that her mind was playing tricks on her. She kept thinking she heard Adam's soft voice, but he never came.

  She stared out at the group of renegade Indians and saw them staring back. They were laughing as they passed around a bottle of bourbon. She could almost feel their hot, liquor breath on her face. She was dying of thirst, yet she was so frightened to take her eyes off them for a moment, that she'd had nothing to drink in hours.

  Dusk settled in and Jessica blinked against the exhaustion that threatened to overtake her. She massaged her injured leg, all the while keeping her rifle aimed. Her only chance was to hold them off until Adam made it back. She laughed, her dry lips cracking painfully. How many days did she think she could hold off a pack of Indian horse thieves?

  She thought about just jumping up and running toward them, firing until they fired on her. It would be an easy way to die, probably not too painful. But then she thought of Mark, and of Larry Caine. She couldn't die yet, not as long as the Black Bandit walked this earth.

  Jessica squinted through the darkness. She could see the Indians moving. Some of the ones who had taken the horse herd north returned. Others walked north, to take their places, she supposed. Occasionally a brave threw back his head and filled the air with a primal howl.

  They're just trying to unnerve me, Jessica told herself. She flexed her stiff fingers. Why didn't they do something! This waiting was agonizing. If they were going to attack her, why didn't they attack and get it over with? She rolled onto her side, trying to take some of the weight off her leg. She could feel her face growing hot as her fever returned. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  She wanted Adam. She didn't want to be brave anymore. She was tired and she wanted to sleep; she wanted to sleep in his arms.

  When the first Indian made his move, running straight for the creek bank, Jessica beaded in and shot him in midair. The Ute fell and squirmed in pain, crying out to his friends. The braves behind him screeched and someone ran to him. To her surprise, the would-be-savior simply cocked his ancient carbine rifle and shot the wounded man in the head.

  Jessica fired and the savior fell flat on his stomach, firing back. Several arrows flew through the air. The Indians hooted and danced in circles, seemingly amused. After a round of gunfire, the man crept back to his friends. Jessica reloaded. She had to be more careful with her ammunition from now on. She was running low.

  More time passed. The renegades seemed to give up on her for a while. They lit a small fire and cooked some fish. The smell was heavenly. Jessica's stomach growled. Against her will, she dozed on and off, her rifle clutched in her hands.

  The night passed and dawn came. To Jessica's surprise, she was still unharmed. She had half hoped that during the night the Indians would give up and leave her, but the light of morning proved she had no such luck. The Indian renegades were still there and the leader was angry. She could hear it in his short, gruff commands.

  Hours passed. Every once in a while an Indian would fire an arrow or a round of ammunition in her direction. She never fired until they got close. She killed two more, wounded one.

  By nightfall, Jessica was so tired and her leg ached so badly that she was having a difficult time remaining conscious. Once one of the Indians sneaked up so close that he pelted her and the grass around her with several rocks before she was able to get her rifle onto her shoulder and shoot the cowboy hat off his head. Those of the Indians still remaining burst into merry laughter. This had all become a game and she was the prize.

  When the blanket of darkness settled in, Jessica roused herself. She had decided she couldn't stay put any longer or she was going to go mad. She had to find a safer place to hide. If she could just last another day, she knew Adam would be back.

  When the renegades lit their campfire and began to play a hand of cards, she wrapped her ammunition belt around her neck and let her body slip noiselessly into the water. She figured she'd just float down stream a ways. If they couldn't find her in the morning, maybe they'd just give up and move on. After all, they had to be bound somewhere with all of those horses. Her only regret was that she would lose Hera. They would take her horse with the rest of the herd.

  The cold water was reviving. Jessica drank thirstily and then all
owed the slow current to drag her along. She let her bad leg float and it eased the pain the pressure of her. weight had put on it. She could still hear the Indian's voices as she floated around a bend.

  Then she saw him.

  By the time she raised her rifle to her shoulder the leader of the renegades was on her. Jessica slammed the butt of the rifle into his face. Twice it went off. He grabbed a hank of her hair and shoved her face under the surface of the water.

  Just when Jessica thought her lungs would burst, he lifted her head above the water. She took in great gulps as she swung her fists wildly. She lost the rifle. She kicked and screamed. She bit him hard enough on the arm to draw a gush of blood. He rammed her head under the water again.

  The next time Jessica surfaced, she was barely conscious. In the distance she could hear the other Indians calling out to their leader, laughing, congratulating him.

  The leader hauled her out of the water and threw her down.

  Jessica forced her eyes open and stared up at him. Pale moonlight reflected off the Kiowa's face. His long, thin nose had been broken in several places. Crooked Nose. This was the man Adam had warned her of, the man who had tortured and killed the husband and wife a few weeks back.

  Crooked Nose's lips turned up in a grin. "A woman!" he accused in English. "A woman has held you at bay, my worthless friends."

  The others gathered around to stare at her. One reached out and grabbed a fistful of the wet material of her shirt but the leader gave him a vicious kick, knocking him over.

  "A brave woman such as this is not fit for dogs like you. She's mine!"

  Jessica's green eyes narrowed. "I belong to no one. Kill me!"

  The Kiowa laughed, grasping her arm and pulling her to her feet. Jessica stumbled and went down. He jerked her up again and shoved her forward. "We shall see," he warned. "We shall see."

  Adam entered a boardinghouse dining room in the small town of Blades on the Idaho border, and took a seat at the end of a long table. Shortly, a young pigtailed woman in a flowered apron approached him.

  "Meal's been served, sir. It's on past ten o'clock."

  "Any leftovers?"