Barely breathing, Kitty drew the pistol from her boot. She knew she would never hit Mr. Bowles. Just aiming for him would be tricky, as she could end up hitting Cyrus instead. Perhaps she could create enough of a distraction for Cyrus to get away.
Carefully, she aimed the gun at the second man. Take a breath and fire, she told herself, praying she would be able to do even that.
And then what? Surely, if Mr. Bowles was taking Cyrus somewhere on foot, as opposed to on horse, the outlaws were nearby. Once they heard the gun go off, would they not come running to see what had occurred?
If Kitty were the kind of woman to curse, every vile word she knew would be flying from her mouth right then.
The men had passed her, each step taking them further away. She was out of time.
And then she saw them. The rocks along the edge of the cliff. There were ones all over, of course, but these were different. Several of them were small enough that Kitty would be able to push them over the edge, if she put her weight into the effort. They could be the distraction she needed.
Scrambling to her feet, Kitty rushed to the rocks. Bending at the knees, she pushed one of them hard as she could. It slid against the dirt, wobbling as part of it teetered over the cliff’s edge.
With one more heave, over the side it went, crashing along the rock’s wall. Kitty ducked behind a tree just as she heard a shout.
Kitty pressed her palm against her mouth to keep back a scream. What was happening? Had she misjudged the situation? Had the rock hit Cyrus?
Trembling, she peeked around the tree and over the cliff’s edge. Cyrus and Mr. Bowles were rolling around in the dirt, a gun laying near them, Cyrus’ fists flying as he punched the other man over and over.
Her plan had worked. Kitty could hardly believe it.
And yet, the fight was not over yet. Hopping to her feet, Kitty ran to Thunder. She needed to get down to Cyrus; he needed her help.
“Good boy,” she told the horse as she navigated his way down the steep hillside. They were so far away from Cyrus, and the horse could not go fast enough, thanks, both to his injury and the incline. Kitty chewed on her lip, worried about what she might find once she got to the bottom of the hill.
Please, she silently prayed. Help Cyrus.
Chapter Twenty-Two
22. Cyrus
Chapter twenty-two
Adrenaline pumped in Cyrus’ veins, and he summoned all his strength, using it to flip Nelson over. Taking the man’s arms, Cyrus twisted them behind his back. Add a knee pressing down into his lower back, and Nelson wasn’t going anywhere.
“Cyrus!”
He froze, thinking he had imagined hearing Kitty call his name. Nelson shifted under him, and Cyrus squeezed his arms tighter.
“Move again, and it will be the last thing you ever do,” Cyrus promised.
Hoofbeats sounded behind him, and he quickly looked over his shoulder. It was Kitty, riding in on the gray thoroughbred. Cyrus felt his jaw drop. She was alive. He hadn’t imagined hearing her voice after all.
“Kitty,” he croaked.
She stopped the horse a few feet away, her eyes brimming with tears. “The gun,” she said, looking over at where it lay on the ground. Nelson had been half a breath away from shooting it before Cyrus knocked it from his hand.
“Pick it up,” he instructed, not knowing whether she’d be too afraid to or not.
Sliding from the horse, Kitty did as she was told and pointed the gun at Nelson. Cyrus hoped she wouldn’t accidentally shoot it and injure the wrong person.
“Up,” he told Nelson. His heart was thundering, both due to the brush with death and Kitty appearing out of nowhere. He ached to embrace her, but first, he needed to get Nelson sorted out.
Forcing Nelson’s vest off of him, Cyrus used it to tie the traitor’s wrists behind his back. “Again,” Cyrus venomously said, “make a sound or a wrong move, and you’re a dead man.”
Nelson gave a single nod. His face was tight, cheeks streaked with dirt, and Cyrus saw real defeat in his eyes.
There was no rope to tie him to the horse so they would have to make due with him walking ahead—just as Nelson had made Cyrus do.
Kitty stood close to Cyrus, the gun still pointed at Nelson. Noticing the shake in her hand, Cyrus took the weapon from her. He couldn’t stop glancing between the two of them—making sure Kitty was truly there and making sure Nelson didn’t try to run for it.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Cyrus rasped. “How… When…?”
A single tear slipped down Kitty’s cheek. Cyrus longed to wipe it away, but acts of affection would have to wait. This wasn’t the time.
“I had some help,” she explained. “I will tell you later. Did you see my dress scrap? I tied it to a tree.”
“No,” he breathed. He couldn’t stop drinking her in—her bright eyes, her pink cheeks, her tangled, unpinned braid. Each part of her was perfect.
Kitty’s eyes drifted to Nelson, and her lips pursed. “What is going on? Mr. Bowles, what were you planning on doing with Cyrus?”
“He’s a traitor,” Cyrus explained. “And he was taking me hostage. Until that rock fell down and distracted him.” Cyrus nodded at the rock. “Seems Nelson here is the fidgety type.”
Rage flashed in Nelson’s eyes, but he stayed quiet, knowing full well that doing otherwise wouldn’t be smart.
“I know,” Kitty answered. “I pushed it. I heard you walking through the woods, and I knew I needed to do something.” She spoke fast, her words blurring together.
Cyrus spared a quick glance at his clever woman. “You don’t say?”
Kitty nodded fervently.
Cyrus smiled wide. Kitty was just full of surprises. He still couldn’t believe she stood in front of him—and, what’s more, that she had saved his life as well.
“Where are the others?” Kitty asked worry etched into her features.
“We’ll find them.” After a moment, he added, “They’re fine,” and hoped that was the truth. Turning to Nelson, Cyrus got back to business. “I figure I won’t waste time asking you many questions, as we’ll get to that once we join the posse. But tell me this: where is the girl?”
Kitty inhaled sharply, but Cyrus kept his focus on Nelson. He wouldn’t be able to handle the pain that was surely etched on her face.
Knowing he had no chance of escape, he didn’t hesitate to answer. “She’s in a cave that way.” Nelson jerked his head in the direction they’d been heading. “Holed up for another couple days. A day before the selling happens, they’ll head on into Ferguson and sell her there.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Kitty asked, her voice trembling.
Nelson’s face remained expressionless, his voice flat. “You’re going to kill me anyway.”
Cyrus hadn’t yet decided just what he would do with Nelson but letting him fear for his life for the time being seemed just fine to him.
“Sell her to who, exactly?” Cyrus asked.
“Who do you think?”
Slave traders. The rumors Cyrus had heard were true. Just thinking about it put a shiver up his spine.
“Let’s go,” he barked at Nelson. “Walk in front of me. Toward the river. Nice and slow. Just like you made me do.”
Kitty’s gaze caught Cyrus’. “She’s so close,” she whispered.
Cyrus nodded, his throat growing thick. “I know. Don’t worry.” They needed to get out of the open area. Nelson had said the cave was only a mile away. There was a chance one of the bandits might pass by and spot them. Still, Cyrus couldn’t resist wasting one more second.
Taking Kitty’s hand in his, he squeezed it gently. “You’re here,” he whispered.
Eyes shimmering, Kitty nodded at him.
“You ride on the horse.”
“He’s injured. He may not be able to go fast.”
“Hopefully, he won’t have to.” Kitty climbed into the saddle, and Cyrus checked to make sure Nelson was still tied up nice and good before lo
oking to her again. “It’s almost over,” he promised her.
Whether they lived through what was to come next or not, at least things would soon end. And at least they were together. The wild, unpredictable world had separated the two of them, but they’d found each other—and Cyrus didn’t plan on letting Kitty Byrum out of his sight ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
23. Kitty
Chapter twenty-three
Kitty’s heart sang at the same time the hair rose on her arms. The day had been full of both triumphs and disasters. She had found Cyrus. Helen was close.
But, the bandits could also be as well. At any moment, she and Cyrus could be attacked. Though that fear had been there the whole journey, now it seemed even more present. Every shadow that moved and every tree that creaked in the wind made Kitty jump in the saddle.
When the familiar rushing of the river filled the air, she relaxed a bit. As awful as the river had been to her, it had also been good. It had guided the posse into the mountains, and it would soon guide them out of them.
She cast her eyes to the left, where Cyrus walked, gun pointed at Mr. Bowles. Each time she looked at her future husband, her heart swelled. The whole time they were separated, she’d held onto hope of finding him. Now they were together, it seemed too wonderful to be true.
And soon we shall have Helen as well.
Kitty pushed the fear to the side and focused on that happy fact. If she kept her mind on what could go right, then the things that could go wrong became less terrifying.
“Do you have any injuries?” Cyrus asked quietly. He looked over at her before quickly turning his attention back to Mr. Bowles.
“I am very sore, but other than that I believe I am all right. It was a miracle. I cannot believe I made it out of that river.” Her chest constricted at the memory of being trapped beneath the raging water.
“What happened?” he asked gently.
“I clung to a log until we reached a wider part of the river.”
Cyrus’ jaw ticked, and he shook his head. “We should have turned back once that storm came down on us. It was foolhardy. I’m sorry.”
“It was no one’s fault.”
The look on his face said he did not believe that. “You’re my girl, Kitty. It’s up to me to take care of you.”
The words made her unexpectedly emotional—joyful and sad all at once. She was lucky to have a man such as Cyrus in her life, but would she get the chance to truly enjoy him? Helen was close, but the possibility that they would all die attempting to rescue her still remained.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Ross, but I hope you see by now that I am not completely helpless.”
He smiled at that. “I know. You just saved my life.”
“Although, I must admit, when it came to today I did have some help.”
“What do you mean?”
Kitty opened her mouth, about to tell him about John Thunder, but Cyrus suddenly held his hand up, signaling for silence.
“Stop,” he whispered harshly.
Mr. Bowles and the horse halted. Kitty sucked in a breath, listening intently. Voices. Muffled ones.
They stayed as they were, hardly daring to breathe. The voices came closer… Several of them.
“...should be going down soon,” a man said.
Kitty almost shouted for joy. She would recognize that gravelly voice anywhere. It was Mr. Guthrie!
Cyrus’ shoulders rose as he took in a long breath. Kitty could nearly feel the relief coming off of him. They moved faster, pushing through the last line of trees and breaking out onto the bank of the river.
The men whipped around, Mr. Guthrie and Mr. Starkey drawing their guns.
“Hello,” Cyrus simply said.
They were all there—Jim and Mr. Walsh included, although something seemed the matter with the last man, as his pant leg was hiked up, revealing a cloth wrapped tightly around his ankle.
Jim’s eyes went wide. “Miss Byrum!”
“Sweet lord,” Mr. Walsh sighed. “You’re alive.”
“Yes,” Kitty said from a throat thick with emotion. “And so are all of you.” She blinked back tears. She did not want to cry, but it seemed she could not help it.
All the men started talking at once.
“What happened?”
“Brady done found us. We were wondering whatever became of you, Cyrus.”
“What the devil is Bowles doing here?”
Cyrus whistled to get everyone’s attention. “Listen close, fellows. The bandits are near. Not more than a couple miles away, if we’re to go off of what our friend Nelson Bowles here has to say about it.”
All indignant eyes fell on Mr. Bowles.
“You mud wallower,” Jim gasped.
Mr. Bowles said nothing, just hung his head and looked at the ground.
“Let’s not waste time getting our feelings hurt,” Mr. Guthrie said. “Cyrus says the bandits are close. We need to make a plan.” He stepped up close to Mr. Bowles, stopping only a few inches away. “Tell us the truth, and don’t spare any details.”
Mr. Guthrie tapped his finger against his holster as an unspoken threat.
The whole group was silent. Kitty held her breath, waiting in anticipation. After a long moment, Mr. Bowles began talking.
“I was hired to lead you all off the trail.”
Mr. Starkey’s eyes narrowed. “But why? There’s only a handful of us, and there were all those men on the train.”
“Were,” Mr. Bowles answered. “There ain’t anymore. The group done split up. That was the plan all along. After the train, some were to head south-east, others west. Some here.”
“Why?” Jim asked. He leaned forward in his saddle, apprehension and excitement dancing on his face.
“Go on.” Cyrus prodded Mr. Bowles.
“For the… the business… of selling. Mostly girls. Or anyone they can get. Indians, if they can grab them. Anyone who can catch a buck.”
“And where do they sell them?” Mr. Guthrie demanded.
“Outside of Ferguson. On the other side of this mountain range. There’s a place there. Anyone in the west looking to buy knows to go there.”
One of the men cursed under their breath, and there were mutters all around. The truth of what Mr. Bowles was saying sunk into Kitty’s bones. Slavery. The bandits intended on selling Helen to someone.
Nausea rose in Kitty’s stomach. She did not have to spend a great deal of time wondering just what a person who bought young women intended on doing with them.
Cyrus broke the silence. “You said ‘they’.”
Mr. Bowles shoulders slumped even more. “This is my first run. I’ve never done something like this before.”
Mr. Guthrie snorted. “Well, you didn’t do a very good job at it. I suspect you were the one who tried to slit my throat the other night?”
Face still downcast, Mr. Bowles nodded.
“And the one who left that campfire. And the one who left those tracks.”
“They were traveling by the river for a while,” Mr. Bowles said glumly. “Then turning off and going to the caves by a pass through the woods. I don’t know that way… All I was told was to make sure any posse who followed stuck to the river. Eventually, they’d give up… That’s what was said.”
“So you were not on the train?” Kitty asked. Her hands and face were hot, and she remembered the kindness Mr. Bowles had shown her when she first joined the posse. It seemed that nice man had never existed. The generous personality was simply a facade.
“I was, Miss Byrum. But, for a reason different than everyone else’s.”
“Don’t say her name,” Cyrus hissed, quickly stepping up to join Mr. Guthrie in front of Mr. Bowles. “Don’t ever.”
“Cyrus, it is all right,” Kitty said soothingly. His protectiveness had seemed to come out of nowhere. Again, her heart fluttered and she yearned to embrace him.
“I suspect you know this, but you’re gonna show us where these outlaw
s are,” Mr. Guthrie told Mr. Bowles.
Mr. Bowles nodded. “In a cave.”
“And how many of them are there?”
“Four maybe. Five.”
Kitty caught Cyrus’ eye, noting the hope there.
“Five,” Jim cooed. “Shoot, that’s nothing. There are five of us, and we’re downright smart. Oh, plus you, Miss Byrum. I wasn’t forgetting you.”
Her Rocky Trail (Seeing Ranch series) (A Western Historical Romance Book) Page 16