Rustled

by BJ Daniels

  As much as Dawson hated rustlers and put them right up there with horse thieves, he didn’t like the idea of killing anyone. He’d just as soon let the law handle him. The problem was how to get his cattle back without getting rid of the rustler. Short of shooting someone, he wasn’t sure how to do that.

  He thought about what Jinx had said right before he gagged her. “We’re on the same side.” What did that mean? Or had it just been another ploy?

  Shoving thoughts of Jinx to the back burner, he concentrated on the problem at hand. One of the rustlers had come back for her. The boyfriend? He thought about her earlier attempt at seduction and wondered just what she’d had to do to get into the rustling ring. That was another thought he didn’t want to dwell on too closely—and definitely not right now.

  The woman was nothing if not determined. He liked her spunk. The fact that she was cute as hell didn’t hurt.

  He reminded himself that she’d been trying to steal his cattle—and that if this was the same band of rustlers, which he suspected it had to be, then she and the others had already killed a ranch manager down in Wyoming who’d tried to stop them.

  They’d burned down his house after trampling him in the stampeding cattle, which told Dawson that these rustlers were after more than cattle and the money they could get for them. They wanted to terrorize people they felt had more than they did and would take everything—including their lives.

  With one rustler hog-tied in the cave and her boyfriend back for her, Dawson had to decide what to do. He didn’t doubt for a moment that the man would kill him if he got the chance. But even if Dawson could capture him without it involving gunfire and bringing the other rustlers hightailing it back here, what would he do with him?

  No way could he keep track of two prisoners and still go after his cattle. And while he might enjoy leaving them both tied up either in the cave or to a couple of trees, he couldn’t be sure they would still be there by the time the sheriff was notified and could get up here to collect them. Not to mention that a grizzly bear or wolves would probably get them both before then.

  He wondered if he would have felt this way if one of the rustlers hadn’t been a woman and swore under his breath at the thought. The last thing he wanted to do was cut Jinx any slack, since she was one of them.

  The contrast between the black trees and the starlit sky was enough that after a moment his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The meadow seemed bathed in a faint eerie light. As he hunkered in the trees, he could make out the cowboy on the horse moving slowly across the open space to the spot where the man had probably last seen Jinx. The rustler was searching the ground, but there was no way he could track her—or Dawson—not with the meadow all torn up from the stampeding cattle.

  “Jinx!” the man called again. “Jinx?”

  How long would this man look for her before he assumed she’d just taken off? Or gotten lost? Or was lying dead somewhere after being crushed by the cattle? Would he come back in the daylight to look for her? Or cut his losses and put all his efforts into getting the stolen cattle to a spot where they could be loaded onto a semitrailer and transported to wherever he planned to sell them?

  The rustler kept looking, riding around the perimeter of the meadow. It made Dawson wonder again about the cowboy’s relationship with the woman tied up in the cave. Jinx was a pretty young thing, the kind of woman who could definitely get her spurs into a man and take him for a wild ride.

  But any man with a lick of sense could see that no man could get a lasso on a woman like her that would hold.

  “Jinx!” the rustler called. “If you can hear me, try to be at the rendezvous spot in the morning.” He finished riding in a wide circle around the meadow, his flashlight flickering in and out of the trees, then finally going out.

  Dawson held his breath, listening, knowing the rustler was listening, as well. Then the rider began to move again through the meadow as if reluctant to leave, heading back the way he’d come. He stopped at the edge of the trees, called out one more time for her, then rode into the darkness of the forest and disappeared.

  Hunkered down in the trees, Dawson stayed where he was for a few minutes to make sure the rustler was gone. Then he worked his way back toward the cave and the woman he hoped was still there waiting for him, because he wanted some answers.

  SHERIFF MCCALL CRAWFORD kicked off her boots, plopped down next to her husband and put her feet up. It had been a long day and she was thankful to be home. As she settled in, she looked around the room. She loved the house her husband had built for them and this sitting room was her favorite.

  A cool breeze scented with summer came in the open windows. She smiled over at Luke. He looked as if he’d had a rough day, as well.

  “Any news?” he asked as he glanced over at her.

  She shook her head. “Hoyt Chisholm wanted to see me earlier. Apparently Emma’s left him. He swears Aggie Wells did something to her.”

  “Aggie Wells? The missing woman?”

  McCall nodded. “I feel sorry for him, but I don’t blame Emma for leaving him. If I’d been her, I would have hightailed it out of there the moment I heard about his third wife’s body being found and his bolo tie being discovered at the scene.”

  “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

  “You think he’s innocent?” she asked her husband.

  Luke sighed and leaned his head back against the couch cushion. “Admittedly, the evidence against him looks pretty bad.”

  “There’s something about the missing Aggie Wells that is bothering you, isn’t there?” she said, sitting up and turning to face him.

  He smiled and reached out to caress her cheek. “Isn’t it bothering you?”

  “Yes! When Emma told me she’d smelled Aggie’s perfume at the house, of course I didn’t believe her. But this afternoon I got a letter from her. She had apparently mailed it before she left town. She claims Aggie bugged the main house at the ranch. She told me to check the fire alarms and even drew me a picture where I could find them.”

  “And?” Luke asked with interest.

  “And I called the house. Emma is gone, just like Hoyt said. The sons are all staying there, but none of them were back at the house yet. I’m going out there tomorrow and see if there is anything to her story. But what if Emma is telling the truth?”

  “You think Aggie kidnapped her?”

  “I don’t know what to think. Emma is convinced Aggie is behind her own disappearance. Hoyt believes Emma is in danger. If you’d seen his face…”

  Her husband pulled her into his arms. “You can’t do anything about this until morning. What motive would Aggie have for kidnapping Emma?”

  “Maybe she just wants to get rid of her so she can have Hoyt.”

  “Then why has she gone to so much trouble to make him appear guilty of his other wives’ deaths?” her logical husband asked.

  McCall groaned. “That’s the part I can’t figure. Maybe Aggie doesn’t know herself what she wants out of this.”

  “That I find hard to believe. If she went to the trouble of staging her own disappearance and kidnapping Emma, then she has a plan, you can bet on that.”

  JINX HAD NO WAY OF TELLING how long Chisholm had been gone. The fire had burned down to only glowing embers. When she looked toward the cave entrance all she saw was darkness. The quiet inside the cave was deafening. It fooled with her sense of time passing.

  She’d known Rafe would come back for her. She hadn’t been surprised when she’d heard him calling her name. He’d come, she knew, not because he had any real affection for her. He hadn’t had a choice. The others didn’t trust her. They’d been suspicious of her from the beginning and hadn’t wanted her to ride with them.

  But Rafe was their leader, though definitely not the brains behind the rustling operation. No, he was more the brawn, a tough ranch hand who’d done some time in the Wyoming pen. The others could push him only so far and she thought they knew it. Her disappearing would make
them even more suspicious of her and question Rafe’s judgment as well as his position.

  Rafe would be worried that they were right. He wouldn’t trust her after this. Not unless she could convince him that she’d been captured and had gotten away.

  She struggled to free her bonds, giving up when she realized Dawson had made sure she wasn’t going anywhere. She froze, listening for a gunshot that would tell her which way the wind was going to blow, so to speak. There was still the chance that Dawson Chisholm was the ringleader and had gone down to meet Rafe and that they would both be coming back up here to decide what to do with her.

  Why didn’t she believe that scenario any longer? Because Chisholm had been nice to her? Because she’d shared his food? Because she was attracted to him and, on a few scarce moments, liked him?

  She cursed herself for telling him she was on his side. She’d taken a gamble based on nothing more than desperation. Normally she depended on her intuition, but with Chisholm she couldn’t trust it.

  Now he was out there with Rafe and she hadn’t a clue what might be happening. Were the two of them at this moment discussing what to do with her? Or was Chisholm about to get himself killed? The thought sent an arrow of panic through her. Did he really think he stood a chance against a man like Rafe Tillman?

  Another dire thought came on the heels of the first. She could die in this cave. If Chisholm didn’t come back, Rafe would never find her and with her bound and gagged up here—

  Jinx started at a sound at the entrance of the cave. She knew someone had entered, but it was too dark to see a thing in that direction. She sensed movement, heard the grate of boot soles on the cave floor approaching her and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the worst.

  A moment later she felt a hand touch her arm and let out a startled cry, muted by the gag.

  “I’m going to remove your gag,” Chisholm whispered next to her. “Don’t try to scream or call for help. Your boyfriend is gone.”

  She opened her eyes, blinked. He was little more than a shadow in the dying firelight. He snapped on a flashlight and laid it on the cave floor, then removed her gag.

  She licked her dry lips. “He’s not my boyfriend.” She hated that her voice broke, that she sounded as frightened as she felt.

  Chisholm smiled at that.

  What had happened outside the cave? She hadn’t heard a shot, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t killed Rafe. Or that the two weren’t in cahoots. Her heart began to pound harder as she looked past him, expecting to see Rafe in the cave entrance. “Where is Rafe?” she finally managed to ask.

  “Rafe, huh?” Chisholm said. “So that’s your boyfriend’s name.”

  “I told you, he isn’t my boyfriend.”

  He started to untie her ankles, but stopped. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his fingers brush her tender flesh. His touch was gentle, his fingertips cool and calloused.

  She hadn’t noticed how calloused his hands were before, and now it took her by surprise. Dawson wasn’t one of those ranchers who drove around town in his new truck while someone else worked the place.

  Jinx hated that this man had gotten to her. She didn’t want to see him get killed, and yet how was she going to keep that from happening when he was determined to go after the rustlers and get his cattle back?

  Chapter Five

  “A few ground rules before I untie you,” Dawson said quietly. “You try anything and I’ll hog-tie you and leave you in this cave for the sheriff. And from here on out, I don’t want anything but the truth coming from those pretty lips of yours. Where are my cattle?”

  She started to speak, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “I’m warning you. Don’t lie to me. And I want to know what you meant about us being on the same side.”

  Jinx met his gaze in the ambient glow of the flashlight. “There is something I need from you first, Chisholm.”

  He shook his head, looking amused. “Apparently you haven’t noticed that you aren’t in the best of bargaining positions right now.”

  Dawson saw the indecision in her expression. She didn’t trust him any more than he trusted her.

  She met his gaze. Tears shone in those big blue eyes. “I was only riding with the rustlers so I could get to the head of the rustling ring.”

  Dawson dropped to his haunches in front of her. “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Under normal circumstances, I really wouldn’t give a damn one way or the other,” she snapped. Her eyes glittered with a sobering rage and, against his better judgment, he did believe her.

  “Vengeance? Don’t tell me this is because he stole your cattle.”

  “He killed my father.”

  Dawson frowned. “Your father?”

  “The Wyoming ranch manager who was trampled in the stampede. Now do you understand why you have to let me go before it’s too late?”

  “I’m sorry about your father,” he said, softening his words at the pain he saw in her pretty face. “But it’s already too late.”

  She shook her head, clearly refusing to believe him. “Rafe came back for me. If I can catch up to him—”

  “Jinx,” he said, locking eyes with her. “Do you really think he could ever trust you? No matter what story you came up with, he’s going to suspect you. Why didn’t you tell me this from the get-go?”

  “I would have, but I thought you might be involved. You definitely are coldhearted enough when it comes to your cattle.”

  He tried not to be insulted. “So you planned to single-handedly take down the rustling ring.”

  “I still do. Unless you want to help me.”

  He shook his head. “You’re right. I’m coldhearted when it comes to what’s mine. You want to get yourself killed, that’s your business. I just want my cattle back.”

  “What about justice?” she demanded.

  “Like you said, rustlers seldom get caught, and if they do, they hardly ever get any jail time.”

  “They killed my father.”

  Dawson nodded. “It’s going to be hard to prove murder even if you can tie someone to the head of the rustling ring.”

  “I’m not worried about proving anything in a court of law.” She lifted her chin, that defiant look back in her eyes. “All I need is a few minutes alone with the ringleader.”

  “Have you ever killed someone in cold blood?” he asked.

  She looked away after a moment.

  “That’s what I thought.” He shook his head as he got to his feet again. “But if you’re determined to get yourself killed…”

  As he started to walk away, she said, “I’ll help you get your cattle back. I know where they took them.”

  The rendezvous point Rafe had mentioned? He stopped, lowered his head, struggling with his own good sense. He’d seen the passion in her eyes. He knew what it felt like to want to avenge a wrong, especially when it was against someone you loved. There was nothing he would have liked more than saving his own father.

  He turned slowly.

  “You just have to trust me.”

  “Trust you?” Dawson shook his head. “Let me get this straight. You rode with these rustlers, helping them hit other ranches?”

  “This is my first.”

  “And you have no idea who is behind this rustling ring?”

  “I had to gain their trust.”

  “Just as you’re trying to gain mine now,” he said with a smile. “Sorry, but I’m not going to let you jeopardize my life and my cattle so you can get yourself killed as part of some crazy revenge scheme.”

  “I told you. I’ll help you get your cattle back, since that’s all you care about,” she said. “But don’t try to stop me from going after what I want. It’s a win-win situation.”

  He no longer had to ask himself how far this woman would go to get what she wanted.

  “Chisholm—”

  “I don’t think you heard me. That cowboy who came after you tonight already suspects you, okay? You thin
k they’re going to believe any story you tell them? Hell, they might just shoot you outright the moment they see you.”

  “I’m willing to take that chance. Well?”

  She was as stubborn as he was. He shook his head, angry that she would risk her life. “Let the law handle this. They’ll catch these guys.”

  “Will they? I doubt it. And I know they won’t get the person behind the rustlers.”

  “You don’t think Rafe won’t spill his guts when he gets arrested? Come on, Jinx, your father wouldn’t want you doing this.”

  “You didn’t know my father. You don’t know me, for that matter.”

  He nodded, but he did know her. She reminded him of himself.

  “At least I’m risking my life for something I believe in. You’re risking yours for cattle, the dumbest animals on earth,” she said. “So? Do you want your cattle back or not?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, studying her for a long moment. “It’s your funeral.”

  “We have a deal then, Chisholm.”

  His gaze met hers and held it. Maybe she was a better poker player than he thought, because he was betting his life on the hand she was playing right now.

  “Where are my cattle?” he asked as he began to untie her. “And where is the rendezvous point everyone is supposed to meet if something goes wrong?”

  AS IT GOT LATE AND THINGS slowed down, Zane talked to a few more of the employees at the hotel. They all said the same thing about Emma McDougal.

  “A delightful woman, always cheerful.” That was the Emma he’d known at the ranch.

  “We are so happy for her. You could tell that the two of them were in love.” Zane had to agree from what he’d seen of his father and Emma together.

  “Did she ever mention if she had family around here?” he asked each of them and got the same sad shake of the head.

  “I think she might have had a family, maybe lost a husband or even a husband and a child. I sensed that about her,” one woman from housecleaning told him. “I know she used to talk to her father on the phone. They seemed close.”