Spirit's Song

by Madeline Baker

“Right,” Jesse said. Harvey was the undertaker.

  “I don’t look forward to telling Keegan’s wife about this.”

  “Yeah, there’s never any easy way to say it.” Jesse looked up and met Ravenhawk’s gaze. “Let’s go.”

  “Hold on,” Frey said. “Where are you taking him?”

  “I had a deal with Keegan,” Jesse said. “Ravenhawk, here, was to be mine. He’s wanted in Durango.”

  Frey shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that…”

  “I’ve been chasing him for months,” Jesse said, his voice hard. “I don’t aim to let him out of my sight.”

  Frey cleared his throat. “Well, if Keegan said it was all right…”

  “Obliged,” Jesse said. He looked at Ravenhawk. “Let’s go.”

  Ravenhawk stood up, his face impassive as he walked toward Yellow Thunder. Despair sat heavily on his shoulders as he mounted his horse. For a moment, he thought about making a break for it. He had no doubt Yellow Thunder would gun him down if he made a run for it. At least a bullet in the back would be quick. Better than rotting in jail.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Yellow Thunder said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jesse swung aboard his own horse, then took up the Appaloosa’s reins. “I’ve seen that look too many times not to know what it means.” Jesse looked over at Hank Frey. “Good luck to you.”

  “We’ll be all right.”

  With a nod, Jesse touched his heels to the roan’s flanks.

  There was nothing more to be done here. He had what he’d come for and now all he wanted was to get back to Twin Bluffs, and Kaylynn.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A light rain began to fall as they cleared the canyon. Jesse urged the roan into a gallop, eager to get rid of his prisoner and back to town, and Kaylynn. In spite of what he’d said to her earlier, he hadn’t worried overmuch about leaving her behind. She was a smart girl, smart enough to stay put until he got back.

  But now, suddenly, he felt a sense of unease, an urgency to see her again, to assure himself that she was all right.

  He glanced over his shoulder to check on Ravenhawk. It was then that he saw it, a long strip of blue cloth fluttering from a bush.

  He gave a sharp jerk on the reins, bringing the roan to an abrupt halt. Behind him, the Appaloosa reared, almost unseating its rider.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Ravenhawk exclaimed. “Trying to kill me?”

  Jesse didn’t answer. He was leaning out of the saddle, reaching for the cloth, turning it over in his hands.

  Ravenhawk urged his mount up alongside the roan. “What’ve you got there?”

  Jesse shook his head. It couldn’t be. But it was. He was sure of it. “Kaylynn’s been here.”

  “Here? What the hell would she be doing out here?”

  “I don’t know.” Jesse looked at Ravenhawk. “Worrying about you, I reckon.”

  “Me? Don’t be a fool.”

  “She was afraid I’d kill you.”

  “Yeah?” Ravenhawk mused. “I thought the same thing myself a time or two.”

  But Jesse wasn’t listening. Dismounting, one hand wrapped around both sets of reins, he began to walk in an ever-widening circle, searching the ground for sign.

  Ravenhawk leaned forward over the Appaloosa’s neck, his gaze sweeping the ground. “I’d say six horses.”

  “Yeah.” Jesse swung into the saddle and followed the tracks. The tracks were easy to read. Five sets of hoofprints riding hard from the direction of the canyon, gradually slowing. One set of tracks coming from the opposite direction. A change in pace as five horses went in pursuit of the lone rider. Some chewed-up ground where the riders had overtaken the single horse.

  “You don’t really think it’s her, do you?” Ravenhawk asked.

  Jesse clutched the scrap of cloth in his hand. “I know it is.”

  “Victor will most likely kill her, you know.”

  “Shut up.”

  “They’ll all have a turn at her first, and then Victor will slit her throat.”

  “Shut up, dammit!”

  “You know it’s true.”

  Jesse shook his head. “If they lay a hand on her, I’ll cut ’em long and deep.”

  “Turn me loose.”

  “No chance.”

  “You’re gonna need my help.”

  Jesse reined his horse to a halt, then turned in the saddle to face the other man. “You must take me for a fool if you think I’m gonna turn you loose and put a gun in your hand.”

  “I’ll side you. All I want is your promise that you’ll let me go when it’s over.”

  “No.”

  “You may be the best bounty hunter in the territory, but even you can’t hope to go against Mazza and his gang alone. Not when they’ve got Kaylynn for a hostage.”

  Jesse considered that a moment, and knew Ravenhawk was right. “Who’s out there?”

  Ravenhawk frowned, trying to remember who’d been hurt in the fight and who’d been killed. “Near as I can tell, Victor and his brother. Nash. Two others whose names I don’t recall. But they’re all cold-blooded killers.”

  “Good company you picked to ride with.”

  Ravenhawk shrugged. “It seemed like a chance to make a little easy money.”

  “Yeah,” Jesse retorted. “That’s what I thought when I started after you.”

  “So, how about it?” Ravenhawk asked. “I’ll help you get Kaylynn back and you turn me loose when it’s over.”

  Jesse muttered a crude oath as he shoved the piece of cloth into his back pocket. He hesitated a minute, then drew his knife and cut Ravenhawk’s hands free. He didn’t like the idea of making deals, especially with a man like Ravenhawk, but right now he didn’t have much choice. He would have made a deal with the devil himself if it meant getting Kaylynn away from Mazza’s cutthroats.

  Ravenhawk rubbed his wrists, then held out his hand. “I’ll be needing my iron.”

  “I’ve got your word as a warrior, right?”

  Ravenhawk nodded. “You’ve got it. I’ll side you until we get the girl, and then I’m gone. And you won’t be coming after me again. I’ve got your word on that, right?”

  “You’ve got it,” Jesse said gruffly, “but if you cross me, I’ll shoot you on sight the next time I see you. No call, no questions. Understood?”

  Ravenhawk nodded curtly, knowing that Yellow Thunder meant every word.

  Jesse handed Ravenhawk his Colt and the Winchester rifle he had taken from the saddle boot earlier. “Let’s ride.”

  The rain let up before it washed out the tracks. Oblivious to the cold and damp, Jesse followed the tracks of the outlaws. He refused to think about Kaylynn, about how scared she must be. Refused to think of Victor Mazza’s men leering at her, wanting her, touching her. He tamped down his rage, his fear, and concentrated on the task at hand. Mazza and his men had taken his woman and for that they would die, and their deaths would be slow indeed if they had dared defile her.

  He smiled faintly. There were numerous ways of inflicting excruciating pain while prolonging the victim’s life. He had never practiced them, but he knew how they were done.

  * * * * *

  Kaylynn stared straight ahead, trying to still the awful panic that threatened to engulf her. She had to keep her wits about her, had to think. Had to find a way to escape from these men before it was too late.

  She had been frightened before, many times, but never like this. She had been afraid when she ran away from Alan, afraid he would find her. She had been terrified when the Cheyenne attacked the stagecoach and took her captive, though none of the horrors she had imagined back then had come true. Indeed, those fears all seemed foolish now. But these men were outlaws, killers, totally without remorse. One look into their eyes and she knew they were capable of every atrocity known to man.

  Shifting in the saddle, she wrapped one arm around her body in an effort to warm herself,
to ease the violent tremors of fear that racked her from head to foot. There was no one to come to her rescue this time. By the time Jesse returned to Twin Bluffs and discovered she was gone, it would be too late. Too late…

  Oh, Jesse, Jesse, I’m so afraid…

  Why hadn’t she stayed at the hotel and waited for him? What had she hoped to accomplish by riding after him? What had made her think she could reach Mazza’s hideout in time to prevent bloodshed or that, even if she had managed to catch up with Jesse, she would have been able to make him change his mind? How could she have been so stupid? But none of that mattered now, and she was faced with the knowledge that she would never see him again, never be able to tell him how she felt.

  Jesse, I hope you know how much I love you…

  She could hardly believe her bad luck. She had managed to follow Jesse’s trail without any trouble and then ridden right into the outlaws’ hands. Too late, she had made a grab for the gun Jesse had given her, but one of the outlaws had snatched it out of her hands.

  Her horse stumbled and she found herself hoping that the animal would fall and crush her. Surely death would be preferable to the unspeakable lust she had read in the eyes of the men who surrounded her.

  They had been riding hard for over two hours. She prayed fervently that they would never stop, that they would just ride forever. As long as they were moving, she was safe.

  But stop they did. The leader, Victor Mazza, she thought his name was, slowed his mount to a trot, a walk. It was early afternoon. It had drizzled earlier, then stopped. Overhead, the clouds hung low and gray and heavy. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

  Victor Mazza reined his horse to a halt. The man riding beside Kaylynn reached over and grabbed hold of her horse’s bridle. Releasing her hold on the reins, she lowered her head so she wouldn’t have to look at any of them. Wrapping her arms around her body, she tried to make herself small, wished she could just disappear.

  “How much further?” one of the outlaws asked.

  “Three, four miles,” Mazza answered.

  “How do you think they found us?” another of the men asked.

  “Had to be Claudill,” Victor replied, his voice laced with anger. “Leo, why the hell didn’t you finish him when he fell behind?”

  “I thought he was dead.”

  “Next time make sure.”

  “Yeah,” Leo said gruffly. “Next time. What are we gonna do about that posse?”

  “What about them?” Victor asked with a sneer.

  “Do you think they’re following us?”

  “No. They’ve got wounded to look after, and there’s a storm brewin’. We’ll hole up at Ma’s place until it’s over, then split up and meet later.”

  “Whole damn deal was a bust,” one of the outlaws muttered.

  “Buck up, Nash. It happens.”

  The man called Nash swore a vulgar oath.

  “Besides, it ain’t a total loss,” Victor remarked. “At least we’ve got a way to pass the time.”

  A cold chill snaked its way down Kaylynn’s spine as she realized she was suddenly the center of attention.

  Rough hands pulled the pins from her hair so that it tumbled down her back.

  She jerked away before the man could touch her again.

  Victor laughed. “She’s got some spunk. I like that.”

  “You will not touch her. Not yet.”

  Kaylynn glanced at the man who had spoken. His name was Rafael, and he looked enough like Victor to be his twin.

  “You are not thinking, any of you,” Rafael went on.

  “Go on,” Victor said.

  “We may need the woman later.” He held up a hand to silence his brother. “We can’t be sure the posse has quit. And we can’t go to Ma’s. Claudill may have given them that location as well.”

  Victor nodded, his expression sullen, and Kaylynn realized that for all his bold talk, he was not the leader of the gang.

  “We’ll ride for Broken Rock,” Rafael said.

  “Broken Rock!” Nash exclaimed. “Now wait just a minute. That’s Injun country.”

  “Exactly. No posse will follow us there.” Rafael smiled at his brother. “Once we’re out of danger, you can do whatever you want with the woman, as long as you don’t kill her.”

  “Go on,” Victor said.

  “Use her lightly, and we can sell her to the Comancheros. They pay a high price for white women.”

  Victor considered his brother’s words a moment, and then nodded. “Let’s go, hombres. We can reach Broken Rock by tomorrow night.”

  * * * * *

  Jesse studied the pile of horse droppings at his feet, then swung aboard the roan.

  “How long ago?” Ravenhawk asked.

  “Less than an hour, I’d say.”

  Ravenhawk looked up at the sky. “If this storm breaks, it’s gonna be a real gully washer.”

  “Yeah. Any idea where they’re headed?”

  “No. But they’ve been riding due west for the last five miles.”

  Jesse nodded again. If the storm hit, the tracks would disappear. Until the outlaws’ trail had abruptly changed direction, he had figured Mazza was headed for a two-bit hangout called Ma’s. Now he thought they might be riding for Broken Rock, which was a notorious hideout for gunrunners and Comancheros and the like. Earlier, Ravenhawk had mentioned that the Mazza gang often did business with the Comancheros, who traded whiskey, women and rifles to the Indians. Holing up at Broken Rock seemed like the Mazza gang’s best move. He didn’t like to think what the consequences would be if he was wrong.

  Jesse glanced up at the sky. The clouds were moving, slowly drifting toward the south. A cool wind blew across the face of the land, whispering softly to the tall prairie grass.

  Relieved that the storm seemed to be passing them by, Jesse urged the mare onward. It would be full dark soon. He wondered if Mazza and his bunch would find a place to hole up for the night, or ride on until they reached their destination, wondered how Kaylynn was doing. She had endured much in the past few weeks, but she was a strong woman. She would be all right. Dammit, she had to be all right.

  The roan snorted and tossed her head as a rabbit bounded across its path. He heard Ravenhawk curse as the Appaloosa shied.

  There was a flash of lightning, a rumble of thunder, followed by a few raindrops.

  Needing to do something to release the tension building within him, Jesse slammed his heels into the mare’s flanks, leaning low over the roan’s neck as she lined out in a dead run, his only thought to reach Kaylynn before it was too late.

  He let the mare run until she slowed of her own accord, and then he reined her to a halt in the lee of a cliff to wait for Ravenhawk to catch up.

  A stiff wind chased the last of the clouds from the sky, and a heavy stillness lay across the land. It was then that he saw it, a brief flicker of light off to his left, as though someone had struck a match. He caught the scent of tobacco drifting on the wind.

  Peering through the moonlit night, he made out the shape of a rocky overhang jutting from a hillside several yards away.

  Moments later, Ravenhawk rode up.

  Jesse motioned for him to be quiet. “I think they’re over there,” he whispered.

  Ravenhawk glanced over his shoulder, then nodded.

  Side by side, they rode away until they came to a small stand of timber where they left the horses; then, on cat-quiet feet, they made their way back to the rocky overhang.

  A cold excitement rose inside Jesse as they neared the outlaw’s camp. It reminded him of his days as a young warrior, of creeping up on a sleeping Crow camp to war ponies and count coup. Only the prize he was after now was of far more worth than a few horses.

  The moon had gone behind the clouds again by the time they reached the overhang.

  “So,” Ravenhawk whispered. “Do we go in shooting?”

  Jesse shook his head. “No. Nice and quiet. I don’t want to take a chance on Kaylynn getting caught in a crossfire.”
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  Ravenhawk nodded. “Nice and quiet,” he said with a wink. “No prisoners.”

  “No prisoners,” Jesse said.

  Keeping low, Jesse moved to the left. He’d gone only a short distance when he saw a man standing near where the horses were tethered. He was standing with his back toward Jesse, smoking a cigarette. A thin column of gray smoke rose above his head.

  Picking up a small rock, Jesse tossed it over the man’s head. It landed in the grass with a dull thud.

  The man grabbed his rifle and stared toward the sound.

  Silent as the shadows moving over the land, Jesse ghosted up behind the man. Bending over, he grabbed the man by the ankles and gave a sharp jerk. The man fell forward. His head struck the ground, hard, the force snapping his neck.

  One down. Four to go.

  Cold, hungry and tired, Kaylynn stared into the darkness, feeling as though she were caught in a nightmare from which she would never awake. Her hands, tightly tied, were almost numb. Victor Mazza slept beside her, snoring loudly. The other outlaws were bedded down not far away. The fifth man was standing guard.

  A faint sound drew her attention. Wriggling onto her side, she stared into the darkness, watched, stunned, as the man keeping watch suddenly pitched forward.

  Struggling to a sitting position, she glanced around, felt her heart begin to race when she saw Ravenhawk slip up behind Rafael Mazza, who had fallen asleep sitting against a rock. Her eyes widened as Ravenhawk reached over the rock and slipped a garrote around the outlaw’s neck.

  The outlaw twitched once and lay still. Moving swiftly and silently, Ravenhawk edged around the rock and padded toward the man called Nash.

  Kaylynn held her breath, waiting, felt her heartbeat increase as the outlaw suddenly stirred and sat up.

  Nash muttered, “What the hell!” when he saw Ravenhawk moving toward him.

  Grabbing his rifle, Nash jacked a round into the breech and then, with a grunt, he fell forward, lifeless as a rag doll, a knife protruding from the middle of his back.

  At almost the same time, the man lying a few feet away from Nash came awake and began fumbling for his gun. Ravenhawk dove forward, jerked the knife from Nash’s back, turned and plunged it into the outlaw’s chest.