Gambling on the Outlaw

by Margaret Madigan

  Sometime around midday we crested a rise and below us the trail opened up into a narrow mountain valley. I welcomed the chance to shake off my maudlin introspection.

  A small creek zigzagged an erratic course at least partway through the valley. We’d certainly make better time through there than we had most of the morning.

  Little Sister took to the trail into the valley with renewed excitement, and once we’d descended the short distance to a flatter, smoother trail, we headed for the creek. It originated somewhere up in the mountains and splashed into the creek bed from a waterfall in a crevice way up on a cliff on the west side of the valley.

  When we reached the creek, I slid from the saddle and squatted at the bank to scoop the clear water in my hands, plunging my face into it. The coldness of it was bracing, but welcome after more than a day on the dirty trail. I scooped another handful of the water and took a long sip, tasting the refreshing sweetness of it. I tossed my hat on the grass behind me, and ran my wet hands through my limp, sweaty hair, pulling the tattered braid out as I did. The cold water on my scalp was heavenly.

  I was ready to kneel down and dunk my whole head in the water when Little Sister’s head shot up from where she’d been drinking from the creek. Her ears perked, swiveling forward. That’s when I heard a whinny in the distance, and my gut clenched.

  I hurried for my hat, stuffing it onto my head, then stood near Little Sister’s flank, staring toward the mountain trail we’d just descended. At the same rise where we’d stopped to survey the valley, a man sat astride a buckskin horse. I couldn’t see him well from where we stood, but there was no doubt he saw us, and as he began to make his way down into the valley, I considered my options. He had likely been following us, and now that I thought about it, he had probably been the cause of the dust plume and the scraping gravel. If I left now, I’d just be running from him, and he’d catch up eventually anyway. I had no desire to lead him right to Isaac, so it looked like I’d have to face him, whoever he was, and bluff my way through.

  I did, however, pull the rifle from its holster on the saddle and hold it at the ready.

  As he approached, his features became clearer and I recognized him as the unknown man from the posse at the house. That convinced me he had, indeed, been following me all along, but the question was why?

  “That’s close enough,” I said as he approached, and he stopped within range of my rifle, but far enough away to give me at least the illusion of security. “And let me see your hands.”

  He wore an expensive brown hat that shaded the majority of his face. I could see his mouth, and he smirked as he raised his hands barely to shoulder level, showing less concern for my rifle pointed at his chest than he should.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Name’s Brock Carrington,” he said, tipping his hat to me, and finally allowing me a good look at his face. It was a handsome and confident face, for sure. He had blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin, and he sat his horse with a casual disregard for me, wearing a self-satisfied smile on his square jaw. “You’re Beth Caldwell.”

  “I am. You were with Dawson and Dearborn at my place yesterday. I saw you head out south with them.”

  He replaced his hat and crossed his hands on his saddle horn. “I did,” he said.

  “If that’s the case, why are you sneaking around following me?”

  “I’d hardly call it sneaking, but yes, I am following you.”

  “Why?” I asked again, because he hadn’t really answered the important part of my question.

  “I’m a bounty hunter, and I’ve had a lot of practice reading people. Dawson and Dearborn are hotheaded and in such a hurry to string this Collins fellow up that they’re not taking the time to be careful. I always get my man because I’m careful. When we talked to you yesterday, there was something about you that struck me, so I doubled back and followed you.”

  “You think I’ll lead you to Isaac Collins?”

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. But you sent us off south in search of Collins and then left your home in a hurry heading north. That’s odd behavior for a woman, wouldn’t you say? So I had to ask myself, why would you do that?”

  It struck me then that this man was trouble, and my trigger finger itched to dispatch that trouble and be on my way. But I’d never killed a man before, and despite the fact that he was out to hunt Isaac down and turn him in to collect the bounty, the man had yet to do anything to threaten my safety, so I couldn’t bring myself to kill him in cold blood. He waited patiently for me to justify my behavior.

  Because I couldn’t very well share with him my confused feelings for Isaac Collins, or that I followed him so I could help him elude the law, I blurted the first thing that came to me.

  “My husband left me in debt when he died, and the bounty’ll just about cover what I owe.”

  His eyes widened enough under his hat that I saw the surprise despite his distance.

  “Well, that’s mighty unusual. And unfortunate for you, since I plan to collect the bounty myself.”

  I lifted the rifle a few inches, reminding him I had the advantage, at least for now.

  “That presents a problem for us, then, because I’m not inclined to give up so easily, just on your say so.”

  He chuckled. “You can’t hold that rifle on me forever, and I won’t yield to a woman, so I’ll just be on my way, and see if you can keep up with the grownups.”

  He urged his horse on, passing me—and dismissing me—before he picked up the pace. I couldn’t let him get ahead of me, so I shouldered the rifle and took aim. I squeezed the trigger, hitting the ground in front of him, right where his horse took its next step.

  “You missed,” he called back to me, slowing only a bit.

  “I hit where I aimed,” I said. “That was your warning shot.”

  He pulled up and turned his horse to face me. His expression hinted at exasperation. “I suppose we’re at an impasse, then.”

  Not necessarily, though I didn’t like my options which, to my thinking, included shooting him or stranding him, both of which left him dead sooner or later. As much as I wanted to be rid of him, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him, though I doubted he’d hesitate if the situation were reversed.

  So if I didn’t shoot him or strand him, the only option left to me was teaming up with him, not that I supposed he’d be fond of that idea, as cocky as he appeared to be.

  “You may not yield to a woman willingly, but it would be a mistake for you to doubt my determination.”

  His smile faltered a bit and became more of a sneer, but he finally nodded. “Since you have the upper hand, at least for now, how would you suggest we resolve the situation?”

  “I’ll give you a choice. I can take your horse and gun and leave you stranded here, or we can team up and split the bounty when we find Collins.”

  “You’d really leave a man to die?”

  “I would.”

  “Well, you’re a different breed of woman, that’s for sure,” he said, tipping his hat back on his head and screwing up his face in an expression meant to convince me he was considering my proposal, but I’d seen enough bad poker faces to know a fake one. Carrington wasn’t the least bit concerned about me or my proposal. He didn’t take me seriously.

  On the one hand, I found his lack of trust insulting, because the more I knew him, the fewer qualms I had about actually stranding him. He didn’t believe I’d do it, and that was just plain offensive. On the other hand, my deal really wasn’t sincere, so he had no reason to trust me, and because I had no intention of honoring any deals, I had no idea why I was worried about whether he trusted me or not. It just stuck in my craw that he found me an unsuitable partner only because I was a woman.

  “I may be, but that’s beside the point. The deal’s on the table, but I won’t leave it there long. Make up your mind, or I’ll decide for you.”

  “I suppose when you put it that way, it’s
not much of a choice, is it? And it might not be so bad as all that to have a partner as pretty as you.”

  I’d have to come up with some way to rid myself of him quickly, because I didn’t think I’d be able to tolerate his condescension for more than a few hours before I might change my mind and kill him.

  I did my best through the rest of the day to slow us down, stopping to do my business in the bushes every hour, and moving as slowly as I could get away with, until Carrington was just short of infuriated. But by that time, I had a plan. It wasn’t a very good one, but it was a plan nevertheless.

  We stopped for the evening earlier than he would have liked, but I insisted that I wanted to be settled in for the night before it was full dark. He grumbled, but agreed, and we chose a place near the creek, which we’d followed most of the day.

  “You’ll need to pick up the pace tomorrow if we ever expect to catch Collins,” Carrington said as he unsaddled his horse.

  “I will. We just rode so long and hard yesterday we were tired today.”

  My excuse sounded weak even to my own ears, but I wanted him complacent.

  “I’ll go collect some wood for a fire. I’m sure Collins is far enough ahead that we can risk it.”

  His tone mocked me, but I smiled to myself as he scrounged in the underbrush for firewood and I went about settling Little Sister in for the night.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” I whispered to her. “We’re not going to stay too long. I hope you can track Boreas in the dark.”

  She snorted and stamped, and seemed newly energized after a day of listless walking. I thought she’d sensed my desire to slow us down and done everything she could to contribute.

  Carrington had a fire going in short order, then made coffee and rummaged in his saddlebags for some jerky. He offered me some as we sat near the warmth of the fire. Reluctantly, I shared the last of my bread.

  “So how long have you been a widow?”

  I had no desire to chat with him, and his interest in my marital status made me uncomfortable.

  “About a year.”

  “And you haven’t remarried?”

  “Obviously not.”

  “Why not? You’re pretty enough, although I’ll admit you have a troublesome independent streak, but that can easily be corrected.”

  I lifted a brow and scowled at him, finished with the conversation already.

  “Why don’t you find something to do that’ll keep you busy, and keep me from wanting to strangle you in your sleep,” I said.

  He threw his head back and laughed long and loud. When he’d finally finished, he tossed the rest of his coffee into the bushes, then moved to his saddlebag and retrieved a rag.

  “You are a feisty filly,” he said when he took his seat again. He removed his pistol from its holster and used the rag to clean it. “I might just like to have a go at taming you myself.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. The more time I spent in his company, the more he turned my stomach. “Better men than you have tried and failed,” I said.

  I had an overwhelming urge to bathe, especially after talking with him, but I didn’t trust him not to take advantage of the opportunity to begin his quest to tame me. So I tried to keep myself busy by brushing Little Sister, taking an inventory of my remaining food and supplies, and rebraiding my dirty hair. By that time he’d finished cleaning his gun and returned it to its holster.

  “We can take turns at watch,” he said, his voice filling the silence. “I’ll go first, since you seem to be so tired.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t trust you to be awake while I sleep, so if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take first watch.”

  He made an effort to appear hurt, clutching at his chest and pasting a shocked look on his face, but just as quickly he relaxed, laughing at his own act. “You go right ahead, sweetheart. Wake me when you get too tired and need to rest.”

  While he rolled himself in his blanket with his back to the fire, I retrieved my rifle from where I’d left it near my saddle and gear, and checked to be sure it was loaded and ready. Then I settled myself on the ground with my back to an aspen trunk and waited for him to fall asleep.

  I didn’t have to wait long. Because he didn’t consider me a threat, he was confident enough to fall asleep quickly, and within a half hour he snored soundly. I wanted to be sure he was deeply asleep, so I let him snore while I caught a nap. I’d need the sleep before the night was over.

  Little Sister’s nose nudging my cheek woke me, and a glance at the moon overhead indicated that a couple of hours had passed. She was eager to get moving, but I rubbed her nose, letting her know she should be patient a little longer. The fire had died down, so shadows cast the camp in darkness, but I could still see Carrington in the same place I’d left him. He’d shifted in his sleep so his blanket was crumpled around him, but he still snored strong and even.

  I scrambled to my feet as quietly as possible, and crept to my things. I pulled the length of rope from under the saddle. Then as quick as I could, before I lost my nerve or he woke up and realized what I was doing, I placed my boot in the middle of his back and shoved him onto his belly.

  “Wha…?” he grumbled in his sleep.

  “Hold still,” I said, my heart thumping in my ears.

  I wrenched one arm behind his back and reached for the other.

  “I knew you’d come around,” he said. I heard the groggy smile in his voice and tried not to gag. He actually thought I was initiating some sort of rough sex with him? I shrugged. May as well use his stupidity against him.

  I leaned down so my lips were next to his ear. “You see right through me, sweetheart.” His self-satisfied chuckle rumbled, and I rolled my eyes. Some men were so easy.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  Tie you up and leave your good for nothing hide for the wolves?

  “You’ll just have to wait and see,” I purred, bringing his other hand behind his back and wrapping one end of the rope around his wrists.

  He went still, then struggled against the rope. “I like it rough as much as the next man, but I’d rather tie you up than the other way round.”

  “Sorry, darling. I’ve always wanted to tie a man up and have my way with him.”

  Still on his belly, he turned his head enough to glance up at me. I smiled and winked at him, but his expression was suspicious. Now that he was fully awake, I didn’t think he bought into my story.

  “Untie me. Now,” he growled.

  Uh-oh. I was out of time. “I don’t think so.”

  He struggled, trying to roll to his side and gain his feet. Instead, I kicked him hard in the ribs. He grunted, but managed to get onto his side, so I kicked him in the belly, causing him to squawk before he fell flat again. I winced, but moved fast to step on his back. Grabbing at his kicking ankles, I managed to catch one and wrapped the rope around it, too.

  “What in the fucking hell do you think you’re doing?” he bellowed.

  “I’m going to collect that bounty myself, and you can eat crow.”

  I reached for his other foot, but he kicked and squirmed, trying to buck me off his back. I lost my footing and fell, planting my butt in the middle of his back. He oofed when I landed and I jumped at the chance to grab his other leg. Lifting it up over his ass, I hog-tied him in place.

  By the time I finished, he was good and awake, hissing and spitting like a rattler fit to strike me dead.

  “I’m going to kill you when I get out of this,” he barked.

  “You’ll have to catch me first.”

  I checked the rope, then headed for Little Sister.

  “You can’t leave me here tied up like this.”

  “I’m not that great with knots. I’m sure you’ll get out just fine, but I’ll be long gone before you do.” I saddled Little Sister as I talked, then untied his horse.

  I went back to him and slid his gun from its holster at his hip. I emptied it of bullets, then tossed the gun to the ground near his face. “I�
�ll be taking these with me, just as a precaution.”

  He’d stopped battling the ropes and lay still. For some reason, that had my heart pounding even more. I imagined when he was angry enough he’d be deadly, and I was pretty sure I’d made him that angry.

  “You’re leaving me for dead, you know.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. You’ve got the gun, and I’ll leave the bullets somewhere down the trail, along with your horse. Sure, you’ll be uncomfortable for a while, but you’ll get free and even though you’ll have to walk a ways, you’re a grown man, as you pointed out to me earlier, so I’m sure you can manage.”

  I climbed into my saddle and turned Little Sister to the trail, leading Carrington’s horse as I left. Just for good measure, I’d left his saddle and supplies at the campsite because carrying those would slow him down even more. Besides, it satisfied my desire to make his life even more miserable.

  But as Little Sister and I made haste into the dark of the night, Carrington’s voice boomed after me.

  “I’ll kill you when I catch up to you, Caldwell. Your days are numbered.”

  Chapter Nine

  ~Isaac~

  Two days on the trail, pushing Big Black to his limit, and I finally felt safe enough to rest for more than a couple hours. I’d taken off from the Caldwell place at a gallop, and rode hard the rest of the day and into the evening. I stayed to the grassy fields or the rocky hillsides as much as possible, avoiding the actual trail, but by nightfall, Big Black was exhausted, wheezing and foaming, so we slowed to a walk and searched for a place to stop for the night. Since I’d left in a hurry, I had nothing with me but the clothes on my back and the horse under me, so we had to keep going until we found water. Luckily I spotted a small spring nestled back off the trail a ways, and we both drank our fill, then settled in for an hour or two rest.

  Since then we’d ridden hard, stopping only for water and to eat whatever I could forage. Without a gun, I couldn’t very well hunt, and I didn’t have time to set and wait for traps.