Sophie's Daughters Trilogy

by Mary Connealy

  “So’s West Texas.”

  Nodding, Belle added, “Weaklings and idlers don’t last long out here. None of ’em.” Belle’s eyes never left Sidney. “So how much do you like that husband of yours?”

  “L–like him? I love him.”

  Belle made a little sound deep in her throat. “Reckon that’s usually the way, at least at first.”

  Looking away from Sidney, Belle said, “You ever need any help, you get yourself back to Helena and ask for Roy and Lindsay Adams. My place gets cut off in the winter, but my girl, Lindsay, lives not that far from Helena, south and west of town, up in the high-up hills. And they’re known in town. Someone can ride out for them. She and Roy will come a’runnin’ to help or take you in with them. I promise you.”

  “A–alright.” The offer made Mandy jumpy. She didn’t need to be taken in by anyone.

  “Lindsay!” Belle called. “Girls! All of you come on back here.”

  As Belle’s girls fell back beside them, Mandy tried to ignore the niggling of worry in her stomach. It was almost as if Belle knew there was going to be trouble. Not so much a warning as it was a plan for when the inevitable happened.

  Just as the three older girls, with Betsy riding double with Emma and Tanner strapped on Lindsay’s back, came into line with Mandy and Belle, a sharp snarl turned them toward where the foal had pranced.

  Wolves sprang out of a copse of trees toward the wobbly baby.

  Mandy jerked her rifle up and fired one-handed while she slung the strap off her shoulder with the other. She jacked the next bullet into the gun with a whirl of her hand and fired again, whirled and fired, whirled and fired. She had four wolves down, all within a foot or two of the colt before anyone else got off a shot. The foal stumbled back and tripped over the body of a still quivering wolf.

  Cold, the way she always felt when she was shooting, iced over her nerves as she saw a shadowy movement in the woods. Her Winchester came around.

  Belle fired before Mandy could, then Emma followed. Two more wolves fell forward and revealed themselves from where they’d crouched, lying in wait for an easy meal.

  The foal’s mother whinnied frantically, pulling against the lead string. Their whole party stopped in its tracks to stare at the dead wolves.

  “Done?” Emma asked.

  “One ran off before I could get him.” Belle stuck her fire iron into its spot in the boot of her saddle.

  Mandy slung her rifle back into place as she noticed Belle’s gun. It was a Spencer like Ma preferred. It made Mandy homesick.

  “I’ll get the colt and calm the mare.” Emma rode toward the foal and herded it back to its mother’s side. The nervous mama licked her baby then nudged it toward her udder. The foal found comfort in warm milk.

  Belle turned hazel eyes on Mandy, and those eyes glittered as gold as Sidney’s dreams. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

  Mandy felt the ice recede from her veins and she looked down at the barely visible muzzle of her gun. She’d already returned the fire iron to its proper position angled across her back, butt high on the left, muzzle low on the right. She’d honed her skill, worked hard to give herself every edge. She’d tried a dozen different grips and made the strap herself to suit her. All to get it into action fast. It was the only way she’d found to best Sally and Ma, and then they’d copied her and taken to wearing their own strapped guns, so she’d practiced even more.

  Though honesty forced her to admit she’d found a gift for shooting from an early age.

  “My ma taught me, I reckon.”

  A smile quirked on Belle’s face. “Your ma? Not your pa, Clay, the man Shorty said he knew as a boy?”

  “Pa helped, too. All my sisters are hands around the ranch and shooting is part of it. You oughta see Sally. I can beat her for speed and accuracy, but when there’s trouble, running, fighting, then it’s a mighty close thing. I reckon I win out, but Sally’s steady when there’s trouble.”

  “Like wolves jumping out of the woods aren’t trouble.” Belle smiled.

  “And my sister Beth, she’s not so fast as any of the rest of us. Pretty fast, but we can beat her. But she’s a hand at ghosting around in the woods. She’s so quiet she can slip up on a deer in the woods and slap it on the rump before it sees her comin’.” Mandy thought that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but Beth was a hand at sneakin’ and no one could deny it.

  Belle studied her. Then Mandy looked past Belle and saw all her girls staring straight at the strap she’d created just to suit her.

  “Can I see it?” Belle asked. “Up close? I might rig something like that for my Spencer.”

  “Ma has always favored a Spencer. I prefer a Winchester like my pa.” Mandy handed the gun over with a grin. “You and Emma are crack shots, too.”

  Belle was focused on the gun. “We’ve run afoul of our share of wolves in these mountains, I reckon.”

  Then Mandy looked past Belle and her girls and saw Sidney staring at her, clearly appalled. He knew she was a fast, accurate shot, because she’d told him and because she took her Winchester with her everywhere, wore it as faithfully as a bonnet. But she’d never really demonstrated it before. She’d thought he’d be impressed, respectful, proud. Instead he was disgusted.

  Mandy’s smile shrank like a Texas morning glory in the noonday sun. Belle looked up, saw the direction of Mandy’s gaze, and followed it. Mandy immediately schooled her expression, sorry she’d let it show that Sidney had hurt her feelings. Judging by the frown on Belle’s face, Mandy had gotten control of herself too late.

  Poor Sidney, Belle was not impressed. Well, he wasn’t at his best. Mandy made allowances for that, but Belle could only know what was in front of her eyes. Mandy knew she and Sidney would be fine. Whatever needed done, Mandy could do it herself, so having Sidney around to help, even if he was just digging for gold, would be better than being alone. They’d survive.

  Having the girls studying her gun and talking with her made Mandy so homesick she could barely talk.

  “We’re going to have a time of it getting that foal home. It’s a long walk. It’ll be hard on the mare, too.” Belle studied her mare with a furrowed brow. “She’s older and she’s one of our best. I’d have liked to get a few more years out of her, but that trail ride home might be too much for a new mother. I had no idea she was so close to foaling.” Belle shook her head and kicked her horse back into motion. They all made their way toward Mandy’s homestead, talking guns and wolves and foals.

  Mandy worried about Sidney but couldn’t help enjoying the female companionship. It made her think of her sisters. Especially Beth. What she’d give to have seen Beth again before she left. Sweet Beth with the healing touch. Beth had such dreams of helping others. Mandy knew her little sister would find a way to make those dreams come true.

  By now Beth was settled into the ranch, surrounded by the family, doing what doctoring Pa would allow and wrangling with him to do more. Mandy smiled to think of her sweet sister living the safe, quiet, nurturing life of healing, just as she’d always dreamed.

  Alex lost hold of Beth as they plunged over the cliff. He bounced off rock outcroppings, rolling along with stone and scraping mesquite. Alex’s head cracked on something solid and he was only aware of sliding until he rammed to a stop. Alex heard the crack of a rifle and a rock spattered his face, slitting his skin.

  He forced his dirt-gritted eyes open and saw Beth, her expression dazed, skidding to a stop beside him. He forced himself to move, urged on by another whining bullet even closer than the last. Grabbing Beth by the back of her collar, he took a fast look around and saw they’d landed on a ledge about twenty feet below the trail.

  A bullet cut his arm and he had no choice—he pulled Beth with him over the edge. Again they fell. Then Alex hit something and rolled. His hand was ripped loose from Beth and he lost track of her until he landed hard again.

  Bullets roared overhead, but from where they lay none came close.

  Alex sea
rched and found Beth flat on her back about ten feet down the still steep rock face. He slipped and slid down to her just as she tried to get to her knees. He dropped dizzily to the ground beside her. Blood soaked the hand he reached out to her.

  “We’re out of range.” Alex’s voice drew Beth’s eyes around and he saw her face burned raw by the rocks. “Honey.” He hated knowing she was hurt.

  She shook her head hard. “We’ve got to move. He’ll come down to check that we’re dead.”

  “No one’s crazy enough to follow us over that cliff.”

  Rock’s rained down off to their side and they both looked up. They couldn’t see to the top, but someone was definitely coming down.

  Beth shoved herself to her feet. Alex noticed she had her doctor’s bag hanging from her shoulder and the Winchester on her back.

  “You held on to the gun?”

  Beth gave him a wild look. “Of course I held on to the gun.”

  “You had time to think of grabbing the doctor’s bag while we were diving away from gunfire and going over a cliff?”

  Beth arched a blood-soaked brow. “Of course.”

  “In the half second before we jumped, I was praying, figuring we were going to die.”

  Beth shrugged and managed a grin. “In the half second before we jumped I jammed the handle of my doctor’s bag hard onto my wrist and took a firm hold of the strap on the Winchester, figuring we were going to live.” Then Beth’s smile widened. “But I prayed while I did it.”

  “You are the perfect woman.” Alex smiled back.

  The rocks tumbled down from overhead again. Beth and Alex glanced up. Then their eyes locked. They staggered to their feet and ran.

  A bullet tore through the air as Beth dragged Alex over yet another steep slope.

  Beth did her best to keep them well ahead of the man pursuing them, but he kept coming. He was on high ground so he had a shot at them every so often and the bullets were so close it was terrifying. Their pursuer was a top hand with a gun. He’d been after them for over an hour. The night had settled into full dark, but bright stars overhead made too much visible. That was just a pure shame.

  “You’ve never seen that man before?” Alex asked.

  “Why, you think he’s after me?” Beth skidded down the rocky incline, stones clattering away under her feet, her rugged riding skirt protecting her as much as possible.

  “Well, I’ve never seen him before.” Alex lost his footing and slid along on his belly for a while. Downward, always downward out of this high country.

  Beth knew with a sickening certainty that they were being driven toward the desert. Their only possible path was directly away from her parents’ ranch and Mosqueros, the places that offered safety. No one she knew of lived this way. Once they entered the driest part of this land, they’d be trapped, either dying of thirst or facing their assailant with his sharp eye and endless supply of bullets.

  Thinking out loud, Beth said, “We could try and dig in, make a stand. Even hide and hope he goes past us in the dark. We’re going to have to lose this guy or fight him. He’s not giving up.” Beth touched her rifle, slung down her back, to make sure it was in place while she tried to think of a way to do either.

  “Can we get back up that cliff we came over?”

  “I don’t know. That man came down by choice. He didn’t jump, so maybe, but I’d hate to go back and find out we were stuck.”

  “We’d be trapped back there, him in front of us, our backs to that rock wall.”

  She’d married a lunatic, but he was a smart, logical lunatic. “I’ve thought of another way, but it’s a long, hard run and a long, long chance, and it will carry us even farther from safety.”

  “But we’ll be alive, right?” Alex was breathing hard, but he was keeping up, even pulling her along.

  “And Pa will come. It shouldn’t take long for someone to miss us and Pa knows tracking.”

  “And we left the team and wagon behind. Hopefully they’ll head for the livery. Your pa can back trail it.”

  “Yep, he can read sign like the written word. He’ll come with the whole of his ranch hands backing him and save us.”

  “So we just need to stay alive until he gets here.” Alex glanced at her. “You’re sure we can’t stand and fight on our own? We’ve got two guns and plenty of bullets.”

  Beth puffed as she ran. How long could they keep going? “He’s a dead shot, Alex. He missed me by inches through pure luck and he was a long way up that trail. We’re up against a tough man.” Beth got to the bottom of this latest rugged gully and scrambled to her feet, pulling Alex up, grimacing at his bleeding arm with its slipshod bandage.

  “Then I guess, at least for now, we’d better keep running.” Alex had never uttered a single note of protest or pain, she’d give him that. For a semi-crazy man who thought himself a coward, Alex was holding up really well.

  “What do you think he wants? It’s not to rob us, because we left the team behind and they’re the most valuable thing we have.”

  “He may think we’ve got money.”

  “No low-down thief works this hard for money.” Beth thought of what lay ahead of them if she followed the only plan she could think of—at least ten miles over country more apt to sit on end than lay flat.

  There was a creek that wound this way, that had at one time run past a little shack she’d lived in, when her ma was between husbands. That creek was fast moving by the thicket where they’d used to live, but this far out it faded into an arroyo that only ran during the rainy season. It would be flat and smooth.

  They’d make good time and hunt for the right place to leave the arroyo and circle around to head back north. They couldn’t stay on it long though, because it ended in the Pecos and she wanted no part of that wild runaway river. Beth had heard the stories many times. The Pecos had killed nearly as many people as the desert.

  It was late summer though. The arroyo would be easy to traverse and just as easy to abandon. They’d leave these treacherous hills behind and gain some space between them and their pursuer … if they couldn’t shake him.

  A sharp crack overhead had Beth looking back and expecting to see the gunman gaining. Instead she saw lightning. Rain. Coming from the north. Beth shuddered at the thought of floodwaters. “Alex, do you know how to swim?” Beth breathed hard as they ran hand-in-hand on the broken ground.

  “That’s a strange question to ask right now.” Alex puffed the words out. He was right. They shouldn’t be wasting a single breath. Only it wasn’t wasted breath, Beth knew that.

  “Just answer the question.” A mesquite bush slapped her arm and nearly snatched the rifle away. She didn’t dare lose that.

  “Can’t say that I do. I’ve never tried it. Why would you ask that?”

  Alex was right, it was a strange question. Even more, it wasn’t a question that required an answer. Because whatever Alex said, they were going for a swim.

  “Never mind.” Beth groaned and tightened her grip even more securely on the rifle.

  Twenty – two

  For a girl who never cried, Mandy had been at … or over … the brink about ten times in the days since she’d gotten married. She hoped it wasn’t some new affliction.

  But watching Belle and her family and cowhands prepare to ride away brought tears to her eyes. Silas and his drovers had arrived a few hours after the rest of them had gotten there—land was already cleared for a cabin and a stack of trees had been felled, using the ax and other tools Silas and Belle had provided plus a few things in the crate Pa had packed for them.

  Once he’d arrived, Silas took over. The man could build a house so well, Mandy nearly heard music playing while everybody followed his orders.

  Pausing with one hand on the saddle horn, ready to mount up, Silas said, “You know we could take another day or two.” He looked at a couple of his hands. “And some of these men are riding to Divide, not taking the high trail back to the Harden ranch. They could stay even longer. Help you sp
lit the kindling and mud the cabin.”

  Mandy looked at the solid cabin behind her. True, it needed the cracks chinked but Silas had told her and Sidney how. “Thanks, but we’re fine.”

  Belle, already mounted, said, “We’ve left a lot of work for two people alone. There’s no shame in accepting help from your neighbors.”

  The whole crew had been here for three long, hard days. Belle and Silas were leaving behind a good, tight log house, with a solidly built barn close to hand and a well-built corral. That was so much more than Mandy had ever dreamed of having done so quickly. Her hopes and prayers for protection had been to just survive the coming winter. She’d expected to spend it in a cabin the size of a line shack—if she was lucky.

  But the Hardens had done even more. They’d also chopped wood for the winter, stocked the cupboards, and left behind two riding horses, leather for those horses, and a milk cow, a brood of chickens in a little henhouse, and a buckboard. They’d also built a few rustic pieces of furniture. And, the most wondrous thing of all, they’d left the little newborn foal and its mama.

  Belle nodded then spotted the stupid, brimming tears, Mandy assumed, and rode up close. “I’m mighty grateful for you watchin’ after my horse. We’d have lost the foal for sure if he’d taken that long trip home. It’d be mighty hard on the mare, too. She’s an old one. I’ll be back for the pair in the spring.” Belle’s warm, yellow-gold eyes said far more than her words.

  Mandy knew Belle was worried about leaving. And she knew Belle and Silas would have gotten that foal and mare home somehow. But it would have been hard on the pair. That was the truth. So it was best to leave them behind for now. Of course Belle’s daughter, Lindsay, lived a short day’s ride in the direction of home, but even that was a long, steep trek.

  The Hardens had come up with the only real thing Mandy could do for them and asked for it—and then acted as if the Hardens owed the Grays.

  “I’m so glad there was something we could do to help.” Mandy fought back the tears, not proud of this new inclination. “It doesn’t begin to make up for all you’ve done for Sidney and me.”