Long Time Gone

by Mary Connealy

  He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak calmly. “You’re right. We have to trail her. Heath can find a direction, then we’ll go after her.”

  “I know you’re in love with her, Justin,” Cole said. “I swear we’ll get her back. We’ll . . .”

  Cole kept talking, but Justin was stunned into deafness. He loved her? He loved Angie? No. A man didn’t go and fall in love with a woman he barely knew. A woman who didn’t know a lick about horses, who wanted her hand bandaged when a chicken pecked her. Sure, a man might find a respectable woman and marry her and even eventually, reasonably, love her. But right now, being in love was the worst thing he could do. It would make him weak and irrational.

  Justin thought of his panic then, his weak and irrational panic. “You can’t know I love her, Cole. Where’d you get a fool notion like that anyway?”

  Cole shook his head in disgust. “I’ve got eyes, haven’t I? Everyone knows you love her.”

  “And by everyone, do you mean the cowhands and the folks in town?” Justin swallowed, but his throat was dry and all he did was scratch it raw. “Do you mean the people who want to use Sadie as bait?”

  “Possibly.” The anger on Cole’s face faded, replaced by a fine thread of concern, then panic. “Probably . . .”

  A shout from the bedroom brought their heads around.

  “Get in here!” Heath sounded furious.

  27

  Angie regained consciousness slowly. Her whole head ached. She wished she could keep on sleeping until she felt better.

  And then she remembered. Watts thought she was Sadie.

  Her near escape. The gun butt crashing down, swung by . . . ? She struggled with her muddled thoughts until they came into focus. Along with the traitor in their midst.

  Alonzo.

  Her vision blurred, the dizziness mixed with pain. She thought she might pass out again. Clinging hard to consciousness, she wondered how long she’d been out. Where were they taking her?

  An overwhelming need for caution had her moving her eyes side to side without turning her head. She didn’t want them to know she was awake. Also, her headache made her want to cast up everything in her stomach, and it was worse if she moved.

  They’d thought Windy was spying, and Angie very much suspected he was in on this. But Alonzo, Watts, and Windy in league with Dantalion before he died . . . they must all be part of the conspiracy to steal the Boden ranch.

  Alonzo rode in the lead.

  Watts was next, leading her horse. It was just the two of them who had caught her. Angie was last in line. Because she was unconscious, as far as they knew, and tied up tight, no one was paying her much attention at the moment.

  For all the trouble they’d caused, Angie had expected more men than this. Maybe they were headed to meet their cohorts right now and figure out how to bait a trap with Angie instead of Sadie.

  The horses moved quietly. She realized they were in a dense woods, following a narrow trail carpeted with leaves soggy from the winter snow. Nothing crackled underfoot to give away their location.

  She wiggled her hands, bound and hanging down past the stirrup. Her fingers were free and she flexed them, afraid they might be numb, but they all worked fine.

  Her first escape attempt had failed but only by the merest thread. Alonzo had heard her, or been waiting for her, because he knew what Watts had planned. He’d stopped her from getting away.

  Next time he wouldn’t be in the right place at the right time.

  Yes, there would be a next time. She prayed for it, and she prayed to God for strength sufficient for the task.

  As she prayed, the beaded necklace Rosita had given her slipped out of where she’d tucked it inside her collar for their long climb. And why would it suddenly hang right over her eyes, after who knew how long she’d been riding?

  And right in the midst of her prayers.

  Angie thought of the grass carpet that showed no signs that they had passed this direction. But now Angie had an idea of a way to leave a trail. She looked carefully at the men ahead of her, then reached for her necklace and yanked hard. The tough leather thong snapped and several beads fell to the ground.

  Closing her hands over the necklace so no one could see she held it, she rode along for a good distance, then dropped another bead. She was afraid to leave more. She had no idea how long they’d be riding.

  They emerged from the trees, and the riders turned off the trail sharply and stepped onto a stretch of solid rock. Angie had very little tracking skill, but she could see their riding on granite left no trail at all.

  She glanced at the men again, who didn’t look back at her. They considered her to be helpless, so why should they keep an eye on her? She dropped another bead. They were all different colors, and she was glad this bead was bright red. It would help anyone who was trailing her to see that they’d left the trail for an unlikely course.

  While they rode on, Angie left her clues behind. Anytime they’d turn off, as the trail divided and narrowed, she’d mark their direction and hope the beads didn’t roll into a hole or get kicked off the path by her horse.

  They followed a twisting path and slipped between boulders that appeared to be blocking the trail. Angie didn’t want to underestimate the Bodens, but she was growing more afraid that no one would be able to pick up this trail without help.

  She sparingly doled out her dwindling supply of beads. Before she dropped one, she would watch Alonzo and Watts for a time. She didn’t want them to catch her leaving a trail, but it was also necessary she remain alert so that if something happened that gave her a chance to get away, she’d be ready.

  Right now there was little chance of an escape. She was draped over the saddle, her head hung down by a stirrup, her hands bound. But for now she was doing what she could. Hopefully her time would come with an opportunity to fight back or run away.

  Testing each restraint she found her legs tied up, as well. A kerchief was tight around her mouth, and every step took her farther away from help and the Cimarron Ranch.

  With no idea how long she’d been in her captors’ clutches or how many miles they’d ridden before she awoke and began marking their passage, finally Alonzo veered off the stone trail. She had only two beads left. Should she mark this turn or save the few beads for later? Without much confidence of what was best, Angie decided to drop one of the beads just as they rode into a small clearing.

  Leading to a small campsite that Angie could see had been set up a while, Alonzo reached it and then stopped.

  Now that they’d reached their destination, Angie didn’t want to be found with the one bead and leather strap in her hands so she tossed them and watched where they landed. If she escaped, maybe the beads would mark her way home.

  Angie fought back tears. She had to keep her head clear, but one overwhelming thought pounded louder than any sense of reason. I’ve reached the end of the trail.

  Heath stood outside the bedroom window, glaring down at the ground, killing mad. “I’ve picked up tracks.”

  Only rigid control kept Justin from jumping through the window and racing down the trail Heath had found.

  “And I’ve got a trail made by two Cimarron horses. One of them’s the gelding Alonzo favors.”

  “Alonzo,” Justin said, and froze. He’d been suspicious of him, but then he’d suspected everyone. “It was him who saved us.”

  “From Ramone,” Cole said with his jaw so tight he was talking through his teeth. “Alonzo’s shaky, elderly pa. He knew he’d never have to shoot.”

  “He led us up that trail that saved our lives.”

  “Nope,” Heath said, shaking his head. “Ramone did that. He went up that hidden trail. Alonzo had little choice but to follow.”

  “I asked him—”

  “Justin,” Heath cut him off. “Let’s get on the trail.” Heath looked at Sadie. “I want you with me. We should never have left you here alone.”

  “I left a large bunch of men around the place.
” Justin realized he was talking when he should be moving. He’d always been a man who acted fast. Being in love had ruined him.

  “Did you leave men here, Justin?” Cole asked. “Or did you pass it on to Alonzo and tell him to keep them around?”

  Justin recalled how quiet it’d been when they rode in from Skull Gulch. They’d tied their horses to the hitching post because no one had come out of the barn to lend a hand. He hadn’t seen anyone around the place since returning home.

  “I told Alonzo. John left with the first work crew so only Alonzo was left to pass my orders on.” He strode toward the back door and his horse. The mounts were still winded from the mad race home, but they hadn’t the time to change saddles.

  “And I expect he told them to get to work, probably as far from the ranch as he could. So the women had no one to protect them.” Cole spoke as he came through the door.

  Sadie was the only one without a saddled horse. “It’s a fact that no one was here. We rode out to Skull Mesa this morning and there wasn’t a soul around.”

  Heath snapped, “Someone quick saddle a horse for Sadie. We have to get started on this trail.” Heath leapt onto his horse and headed around the house.

  “Ride my horse, Sadie. Heath, get going.” Cole sprinted for the barn.

  “Cole,” Rosita shouted, “take mine. I stay and defend the house.”

  “It’s not safe,” Cole said, turning back.

  “That’s right,” Justin agreed. “You’re coming with us, Rosita. I’m never leaving someone alone at this place again. I’ve finally learned my lesson.”

  “No, I will stay,” Rosita insisted. “Now ride. You’re wasting time. We cannot leave the CR undefended. I will get John to stay here with me when he comes back.”

  Justin and Cole exchanged a look. Then Justin studied the stubborn look on Rosita’s face and decided he didn’t have time to argue with her. Especially since he’d lose. “Thank you, Rosita. Remember your life is more important than any house. Please be careful.”

  She gave them a firm nod. “I will remember.”

  The Bodens rode around the house after Heath. Once the three of them were alone, Sadie said in a sickened voice. “They wanted me. Why take Angie?”

  Justin mulled that over for a second. “Arizona Watts.”

  “What about him?” Sadie’s brow furrowed.

  “I was shouting, remember? When Cole, Heath, and I came in the house.”

  “I remember, but I was busy strapping on a gun to go find Angie. I didn’t understand what you were yelling about.”

  “You were going after Angie alone?” Justin shook his head. His sister was going after the men who’d come to kidnap her? The thought chilled his gut and made him even madder.

  “Watts broke out of jail,” Cole said. “He must’ve taken Angie. Alonzo would have come for you. If Windy is in on this, he knows you. That means someone else did it.”

  “Someone riding Alonzo’s horse.” Justin knew that horse. Alonzo had ridden in on the horse, and no one rode it but him. “Yep, Watts is guilty as sin. He never got a good look at you, Sadie, and he might’ve seen Angie for a minute that night after the attack. From a distance you resemble each other. He thought he knew who he was going after. Or if someone described you, he came looking for a blond woman, probably not knowing there are two women here who fit that description.”

  Cole nodded. “Watts got the wrong girl.”

  Sadie’s face twisted in pain at Cole’s words. “So they took Angie thinking they had me, and now they might decide they have no use for her.”

  “Keep in mind,” Cole added, “the whole point of the kidnapping is to use Angie as bait, and now we’re riding out after them. And most likely that’s exactly what they’re hoping we do.”

  “So that is their plan,” Justin said, “and here we are, the whole family, riding right into their trap.” All of a sudden his indignation expressed earlier sounded like worry now. Like the danger had just increased for everyone.

  Quietly, Sadie said, “It’s not the whole family, Justin. At least Ma and Pa are safe in Denver.”

  28

  Chance’s eyes popped open when he heard the floorboards creak. He shook Ronnie’s shoulder. She moved in absolute silence, though he heard the whisper of a scratch when she picked up her gun off the bedside table.

  He grabbed his own gun, loaded and cocked, and swung his legs out of bed, snatched up his crutch, and hobbled quietly around the bed. Ronnie was already behind the door. She stepped away from it enough that if someone came in, pushing the door open, it wouldn’t hit her.

  He touched her arm. The night was dark, but his eyes had adjusted and were sharp enough to see her nod. He loved this woman more with every breath, and that was saying something because he’d been breathing with her for over twenty-five years.

  Chance had his crutch under his left arm and his gun in his right hand, aimed straight at the door. A squeak out in the hall was the pantry door—Chance recognized the sound of its hinges as it was opened.

  Obviously the intruder didn’t know where he was going. He’d have to open two more doors, one to the fancy front room and the next to the mostly empty office.

  After that he’d make his way to their bedroom.

  Chance steadied himself and listened, all his senses on alert. He smelled something he couldn’t place at first. Sharp, with a burnt aroma to it. Then it came to him. It was one of those black Mexican cigarettes some of his cowpokes smoked. The intruder in the hall had finished one just recently.

  A second door opened. There was no squeak this time, just a whisper of a swinging hinge. Chance drew a deep breath. Two more to go. He shifted his weight to keep from putting too much strain on his broken leg.

  He wasn’t all that conscious of it aching anymore, but he’d been careful, with an overly attentive wife to kindly remind him of what not to do. The doctor wasn’t here now, but Ronnie was a good partner in a fight and she always wanted his best.

  Chance took another breath, leaned back against the wall. Another door opened. The office. There was no furniture in there so the man soon swung the door shut.

  Silence followed. Chance couldn’t tell if the man was walking down the hall toward their room or standing still. After another minute, he sensed the intruder standing outside their bedroom door. Then the knob turned slowly, and the door cracked open just an inch. The man was looking in, studying the room, no doubt seeing it was in use. He’d found his prey.

  With a loud bang, the door slammed open. Gunfire exploded into the room. The bullets centered first on the bed, then began sweeping the room, coming ever closer to where Chance and Ronnie were hiding.

  “Windy must’ve gone to check his traps.” Watts commented on the empty campsite. “Good, hope he gets something. I can use a meal.”

  After he haltered his horse and staked it to graze, Alonzo approached Angie and swiftly unhooked whatever held her on the saddle. She kept up her ruse of unconsciousness as he dragged her feetfirst off the horse to stand. The blood rushed from her head and down to her feet. It took no faking at all to let her knees buckle and for her body to pitch sideways from the hot pain.

  Alonzo grabbed her before she fell and carried her to an oak sapling. He sat her down so she could lean back against the tree, then untied her feet and hands.

  “You should have stayed out of this, Señorita Angie,” Alonzo said under his breath. Angie couldn’t decide if he was talking to her or to himself. “Bodens bring trouble to everyone they touch.”

  Angie kept her eyes closed and sagged to the side. She was so dizzy from hanging with her head down for so long, she wondered if she might black out.

  Alonzo tugged the gag from her mouth. Whether he was just talking to hear himself or she’d done something to give away that she was awake, he went on, “We’re far enough away that no one will hear you scream. But don’t do it anyway. I will gag you again if you do.”

  Angie remained limp. The gag had been too tight. Her face and n
eck were in such pain that she didn’t know if she could have screamed even if she wanted to. But a defiant place in her heart told her that as soon as her face didn’t hurt so much from the brutal gag, she might scream just on principle.

  Then a wicked throb from the spot she’d been thumped by Alonzo’s gun made her decide not to defy him again without a very good reason.

  “I know you’re awake, señorita.” Alonzo sunk his hand deep into her hair and jerked her forward, tilting her head back.

  His hand closed over the spot where he’d hit her, and she couldn’t control a moan of pain. She flickered her eyes open, hoping he’d believe she was just coming around. He was inches from her, his face filling up every bit of her vision.

  Speaking softly, because she really wanted to know, she asked, “Why, Alonzo? I can’t figure it out. You don’t look like a man who’s had a bad life. Why turn to murder? What about the Bodens makes you do such a foolish thing?”

  “Bad life, señorita?” he sneered and dragged her to her feet by her hair. “I watched my papa suffer for years because my grandfather was too arrogant to do what was necessary to keep his land. It was Grandfather’s by right, then my padre’s, then mine. The old Don should have fought for it. He should have begun his own revolution. Instead, he turned his back on that heritage, but he never gave up the anger. He never gave up his hatred of America. I was raised on that hate.”

  Angie knew part of the story but not every detail. “Then aim your anger at the men who signed the treaty that moved this land into America. It was a treaty signed by both governments to end a war. And if not them, aim your anger at the governor who took away your grandfather’s land grant. Chance Boden didn’t—”

  “Chance had nada to do with it? Is that what you were going to say? Well, you’re wrong. My papa had a chance to marry François Chastain’s daughter, Veronica. She had shown some interest in him, and Papa would have treated her well. But when Chance Boden came along, Chastain pushed them together. He wanted his daughter married to a man who had full claim to American citizenship. Boden was a lowly pioneer from Boston. But his ancestry was right, while Papa’s was wrong. Chastain was on his deathbed, urging Chance and Veronica to marry. That stopped mi padre from becoming a partner in what was left of the old land grant. My family would have been restored to wealth.”