Being a woman, one fraught with emotions that had her wanting to cry one minute and scream the next, was more than frustrating. Life hadn’t taught her how to care about people, and now that she did—care, that was—she wasn’t overly glad it had happened.
She’d promised Lucky she’d go south with him, and she would. Go as far as Seattle to meet up with Trig, but then she’d have to leave. Perhaps return to Alaska. It wouldn’t be the same without Lucky, but nowhere would.
With both dresses needing to be laundered, she put on the yellow one. The softness of the material and the daintiness of the lace and ruffles made her feel like an impostor. Trying to be some fancy person she wasn’t, but she wasn’t going to mine gold today. She was going to town.
Upon hearing Tim’s loud voice, knowing he and Albert were awake, she ventured outside. The men were busy preparing the morning meal, and knowing Tim wouldn’t allow her to go anywhere on her own—Lucky had instructed him not to—she waited until breakfast was over before telling Tim she was walking down to Jack’s place.
Tim insisted upon going with her, just as she suspected, and Maddie withheld the rest of her plan, figuring he’d start protesting before she even asked Jack if they could borrow his boat to go to Bittersweet. She couldn’t ask Jack to accompany her. The last time he’d gone with Lucky, Jack had complained for three days how all the paddling had flared up his rheumatism, but his was the only available boat. The brothers used their boat daily and Lucky had taken the one he’d purchased.
She made sure her gun was still in her pocket before she and Tim took off walking along the gravel-lined shore. She’d spent plenty of time with Tim and liked the fact conversation wasn’t expected. It gave her time to contemplate how she’d apologize to Lucky. Tell him she still wanted to go south with him. She’d figure out the rest later—how to make sure Mad Dog didn’t pick up her trail again.
A shout interrupted her thoughts. They’d rounded the first bend in the river a short distance ago, so it couldn’t be from the mine. The sound came again, and she turned to the hillside. Elwood Reins stood atop the hill near the timberline. She tapped Tim on the shoulder, and they both stopped, waiting for the man to join them. Elwood didn’t move, just shouted again and pointed to the ground beside him.
“What did he say?” Tim asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered, blocking the rising sun with one hand. The trees and tall swamp grass still didn’t allow her to see anything besides Elwood. “He’s waving for us to come up there.”
“You wait right here,” Tim said. “I’ll be right back. He probably shot a deer or something.”
Maddie wanted to say she’d go on to Jack’s place alone, but knew it would be useless. Whenever Lucky was away from the camp, Tim was glued to her side as firmly as the mud stuck to his boots. She turned instead, to gaze downriver, wishing Lucky would suddenly appear. The glistening water held nothing but a wave now and again. Alaska was a beautiful place, and she was going to miss it. The solitude she’d known before finding the outhouse gold was something she now longed for. Turning back around, she frowned and scanned the hillside, but was unable to find either Tim or Elwood.
A tremor let loose in her stomach as she took a step closer, peering harder.
“He’s not going to save you, darling. No one is.”
Old and mingling fears rushed forth with a frosty shiver that shredded her insides. Maddie swiveled slowly, to where the voice had come from.
“Hello, Maddie.”
She swallowed hard in an attempt to dislodge her heart from the back of her throat, but it wouldn’t slide down to her chest where it belonged. Instead, it settled there, beating frantically. His hair no longer hung onto his shoulders, straight and scraggly, and there were gray strands mixed in with the black. His face had more wrinkles, but his black eyes were the same. Menacing and cold.
“Aw, darling,” he drawled. “You haven’t forgotten me, have you?”
Willing her chin not to quiver, nor allow the memories to get the best of her, Maddie met his gaze squarely. “I remember you, Mad Dog.”
He laughed. A bitter, cynical sound that turned her bones to ice. “Glad to know, darling, but I’ve changed my name.”
“Isn’t that a surprise,” she sneered while questioning her choices. He was between her and the mine, and she couldn’t knowingly lead him into Jack’s place. He’d kill the old man for sure. The river was an option, but swimming in a dress wasn’t. “An outlaw changing his name.” Keeping him talking was a choice, too. Waving a hand at the black suit with a gold silk vest, she said, “That’s a pretty dapper outfit for an outlaw.”
He leaned on the walking stick, complete with a gold snakehead handle. “Who says I’m still an outlaw?”
Whether he was calling himself Alan Ridge or Mad Dog Rodriquez, he was an outlaw—always would be. A mean and evil one. Forcing her glare to remain as fixed as his, and as cold, Maddie said, “Once an outlaw, always an outlaw. I can’t believe you weren’t hanged with Bass.”
“Now, that, darling, would have been impossible.”
Maddie wanted to gag. When he called her darling it sounded ugly and wicked. Nothing like when Lucky said it. “Why’s that? You were hiding in the bushes?”
“No, darling, I was the one that hanged him.”
Her heart dropped. For years she’d told herself Bass had gotten what he deserved, yet he’d been her father, and she’d mourned his loss. Dying at the hand of the law was one thing, being murdered by a man in his own gang was another.
“I wouldn’t have had to do it,” Mad Dog said, “if he’d given me your whereabouts.”
She knew exactly what he’d wanted. Knew he was the reason Bass had left her with Smitty, though she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. “My whereabouts? Why? I didn’t have anything you’d want.”
“Yes, you did.” His beady eyes swept downward. “Still do.”
Maddie’s breath stuck deep her stomach, and she fought to keep her eyes from glancing around, searching for an escape route.
“Your father knew it. That’s why he hid you in the hills with that miner after you shot me. I’d have found you long before now if Bass hadn’t switched sides and sent that posse after me.”
Try as she might, Maddie couldn’t breathe. Switched sides? She couldn’t faint, not now. Blinking, she caught sight of his cane.
“Yes, your bullet left me with a way to remember you every day,” Mad Dog said. “But don’t worry. It’s not as bad as I make it look. It gives me an advantage. People feel sorry for a cripple.”
“I should have killed you,” she said without an ounce of remorse.
“Maybe you should have,” he answered. “Then I wouldn’t have hanged your papa. Of course, all he had to do was tell me where you were and I’d have spared his life.” Mad Dog took a step closer. “But he wouldn’t. Said he rather die than have me touch you.”
A tremendous buzzing noise sounded in her ears. All the rage she’d kept bottled inside wanted out. Mad Dog was the reason she’d never been allowed to leave the mountains; even when Smitty had grown sick, needed medicine, she’d had to sneak into town wearing his old clothes to buy what was needed. Her hand slid into her pocket, and the cold steel felt as hot as flames.
Maddie was about to pull out the gun when a shout rang out behind her.
“You there! Get away from her!”
Fear rippled her spine, and when a squawk sounded, proving Jack was approaching, Maddie spun around to shout a warning. A hand grabbed her, pulling her backward.
She battled against his hold, but Mad Dog managed to wrap a thick arm all the way around both of her arms and waist. Brandishing a gun in his other hand, he shouted, “Stay there, old man, or I’ll shoot you and her.”
Maddie kicked and squirmed, but his hold was like an iron chain. Thrashing, throwing her he
ad back to connect with Mad Dog was useless. He kept his legs apart, too, so she couldn’t connect with a knee.
Jack was still approaching, and over his head Homer set his wings to dive.
“Stop, Jack!” she screamed. “He’ll shoot!”
Another shout drowned hers. It was more of a growl, causing Mad Dog to spin toward the hill. Tim ran toward them so fast trees seemed to be moving with him. He was shouting, too, for Mad Dog to let her loose.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Mad Dog spun forward again and fired twice. Maddie screamed as Jack went down and Homer fell from the sky.
The next instant, Mad Dog spun again and fired toward Tim.
Fury like she’d never known unleashed itself. Every muscle burned as she twisted and kicked. Mad Dog’s grip slipped slightly, and she went wild. His gun went off again, but Tim kept barreling toward them and Maddie thrashed harder.
Her freedom came so quickly she fell, but leaped to her feet, gun in hand. All her fears were replaced by pure hatred. Outraged, she seethed, “Drop it, Mad Dog.”
He paused momentarily, his beady eyes startled.
“You know I hit what I aim at.” She leveled her gun purposely. “And I aim low.”
His sarcastic laugh was the last straw. She fired.
Mad Dog went down, screeching. His gun landed near her feet and Maddie scrambled forward to kick it away.
“Untie me!”
Maddie spun to where Tim ran toward her, with a tree tied to his back, complete with roots holding clumps of dirt.
“They knocked me in the noggin and tied me to the tree,” he said, arriving at her side and spinning around. “Untie me so I can take care of him. You go see to Jack.”
The fury inside her turned into pain, and she glanced down the riverbank. Jack and Homer. Their bodies. Lying lifeless. Holding the tiny bits of composure left inside her, she asked, “Who hit you?”
“Elwood and Butch,” Tim answered over his shoulder. “I knocked them both out.” He grinned. “With the tree. They should have chosen a bigger one. With all this rain the roots let loose with no more than one good pull.”
Her fingers shook and she dropped her gun in her pocket to work the rope. It still wasn’t loose when Tim shouted, “Hurry, Maddie, he’s getting away!”
As if he was half snake, Mad Dog slithered into the bushes. She grabbed her gun and fired again.
“Untie me!” Tim shouted. “I’ll get him!”
Torn between firing again and undoing the ropes, she chose the ropes when she couldn’t see anything moving in the bushes.
“Hurry,” Tim shouted. “Hurry.”
The rope finally let loose and Tim leaned back so the tree tumbled away from them. “Go see to Jack,” he said, grabbing Mad Dog’s gun off the ground. “I’ll get him.”
Other shouts sounded as a crowd of men ran around the bend.
Tim starting barking orders at them and she turned, running toward the prone bodies of Jack and Homer.
Chapter Thirteen
Every step she took sent her heart lower, and tears stole a good portion of her vision. Yet, she could still see Jack and the red-feathered mass lying next to him. She’d never had friends like them.
Her knees wanted to give out, but she told her feet to keep moving, catching herself when she stumbled. Tears poured down her cheeks by the time she knelt down and laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Jack? Jack!”
He didn’t move and her last bits of strength dissolved. She dropped her head to rest on his back, weeping. “Oh, Jack. It’s all my fault and I’m so sorry.”
Something rumbled against her cheek, and her heart fluttered. Going stiff, she held her breath, wondering if it was a moan she’d heard or the sounds of the men gathering. She held up a hand, hushing them and turned to the man on the ground “Jack?”
There it was again. A definite moan.
Trying to be careful, but with her heart racing, Maddie grasped his shoulder with both hands to turn him onto his back.
“Careful, girl,” he groaned. “I must’ve hit my noggin.”
With his help, she eased him over and then touched the lump on his forehead. Excitement rushed forward. Her joy was so great, she all but shouted, “You did hit your head.”
“Shh...” he mumbled.
Biting a giggle, she shivered, and searched his chest for bullet holes. “He didn’t hit you. Mad Dog’s bullet didn’t hit you.”
“Bullet—” Jack sat up like a shot. “Where is that no good—”
“Shh.” She pushed on his chest to keep him seated. “Tim has him. The other miners are there, too.” Turning to where the men had stopped, she waved. “He’s all right!”
They rushed forward, shouting their glee. As quickly as her happiness came, another wave of sadness hit. Someone had shouted Homer’s name.
Maddie turned to the massive red wings sprawled across the sand. Her tears renewed.
“Get up, Homer,” Jack snapped.
Homer’s head popped up, and the next instant he was on his feet, fluffing his feathers and squawking.
Stunned, Maddie turned to Jack.
The old man shrugged. “I taught him to play dead whenever a gunshot sounded. Figured it might save his feathered hide if we ever got hit by pirates.”
She kissed Jack’s forehead and then whistled. Homer ran toward her, wings out like a child running to its mother. Laughing, she plucked up the bird and kissed the end of his beak. “You crazy bird.”
“Crazy bird,” Homer repeated.
Two men helped Jack to his feet, and another helped Maddie up. She still had Homer clutched in her arms. Carrying him, she turned, now realizing it was Albert who had helped her stand. “Did Tim get Mad Dog?”
“He and some others took chase,” Albert said. “They’ll get him. Let’s get you back to the mine.”
They arrived to a gathering of men standing over Elwood and Butch near the fire, but she didn’t see Tim and Mad Dog.
“Tie them to those trees,” she instructed Albert, scanning the camp harder. “Where’s Tim?”
Men all started talking at once. Saying they’d take chase, too. Tremors hit her again. Mad Dog was still out there. She willed her feet to stay beneath her, but all the noise sent her head spinning.
This was how it had been in Bass’s camps, men fighting amongst themselves. She couldn’t let that happen, and wished in so many ways that Lucky was here. He wasn’t, and she was the one in charge.
The men’s shouts were growing louder and angrier, claiming the outlaws must have wanted to steal their gold, and shouting who should stay behind. Maddie’s head spun faster. Flashes of the past mingled with the present. One stuck. A vision of her father and how he’d gained control of events like this.
Maddie pulled her gun from her pocket and fired a shot in the air.
Silence happened immediately, and all eyes were on her. Except Homer’s. Wings spread, he was lying near Jack’s feet. As she lowered her gun, she nodded toward the bird.
Silent, as if he, too, was shocked by her behavior, Jack leaned down and tapped the bird on the head. Homer rose to his feet without a squawk and dashed behind one of Jack’s legs. Peering around it, the bird looked up at her as questioningly as the men.
“Count out four men to send after Tim,” she told Albert. “And another four to stand guard.” Pocketing her gun, she kept her chin up and hoped it didn’t wobble. Though she still had no idea what to do next, she said, “The rest of you have work to do. That gold won’t mine itself.”
Eyeing her with caution, the men started moving slowly, which allowed her a clear view of a boat that must have come ashore during the commotion. As Maddie watched Lucky step out of it, everything hit her all over again. Mad Dog’s arms crushing her. Gunfire. Jack and Homer lying in
the sand. Her past.
Suddenly Maddie felt weaker and more vulnerable than ever.
She heard nothing, saw nothing except how Lucky held his arms out. Her feet moved before she had time to think, and when solid, strong arms wrapped around her, she collapsed against him. Tears stung her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. Not now. Instead, she hugged him tighter.
Lucky seemed to flinch as he asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she answered, slowly unwinding her arms from his waist to step back. A new bout of torment rushed forth. “What happened to you?” she questioned, gently cupping his face. His eyes were swollen and bruised, distorting his handsomeness. She took another step back to examine the rest of him. “Who did this?” she demanded. “Who beat you?”
“It was Alan Ridge and his men,” Abe, who’d climbed out of the boat and stood nearby, said. “Broke a couple of his ribs, too.”
The glare on Lucky’s face said he hadn’t wanted her to know that, and frustration, along with a plethora of other things, engulfed Maddie. She started to tremble. It was coming true—her nightmares were coming true. “He’s here.”
“Where?”
“Upriver,” she whispered.
“Tim’s chasing him,” Albert said. He then began reciting the names of the men with Tim.
“Which way did they go?” Lucky asked.
“Into the brush,” Jack said. “He tried to steal Maddie and kill me. Homer, too.”
“Maddie shot him,” Albert said. “He couldn’t have gotten far.”
Albert went on to tell the story in a no-nonsense way, and though Maddie was grateful for that, her attention was on Lucky and the one hand he held against his ribs. If she’d known Mad Dog had done this to him she’d have aimed for his heart, not his leg.
When the questions and answers were done, Lucky glanced down at her before he instructed, “You heard the lady. Set up guards around the perimeter, and the rest of you get back to work.” He then twisted her toward the tent, but she heard him whisper to Albert, “I’ll be right back.”
A Fortune for the Outlaw's Daughter Page 18