Mainly, he wondered just how much more hell was going to break loose around here before Marshal Bill Harvey got back to Redemption.
Chapter 27
True to his word, Bill kept the posse riding like hell the rest of the day after picking up the outlaws’ trail again. His hope was that they might be able to see the dust raised by the horses they pursued, or even spot the bank robbers themselves.
But the northern horizon remained mockingly empty.
While they were camped that night, Bill dozed restlessly in his blankets when it wasn’t his turn to stand guard. Once, far into the night, his eyes snapped open and he sat up abruptly. He would have sworn that he’d heard the distant drumming of hoofbeats somewhere on the prairie.
“Something wrong, Marshal?” Jesse Overstreet called softly. The young cowboy was standing guard, along with one of the men from Redemption, and must have noticed Bill’s movement.
Bill pushed his blankets aside and stood up. Keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t disturb the other men, he asked, “Did you just hear something, Jesse?”
Overstreet shook his head.
“Nope, not really. What are you talkin’ about, Marshal?”
“I thought I heard horses.”
Overstreet straightened from his casual pose.
“A lot of ’em?” he asked. “Like that bunch of outlaws doublin’ back to jump us?”
Bill had been aware all along that was a possibility, although it seemed more likely the gang would make a straight run for its hideout.
“No, this was more like just one or two horses,” he was forced to admit. “I don’t think it was the whole bunch.”
“Sorry, Marshal, I didn’t hear anything like that,” Overstreet said.
The other guard had walked over to listen to their conversation. He said, “Neither did I, Marshal. Maybe you dreamed it.”
Bill felt a surge of anger. He wasn’t prone to dreaming things and then believing they were real.
But giving in to that anger wouldn’t help anything, so he said, “Yeah, maybe so.” He listened intently for a moment and then shook his head. “I don’t hear anything now, that’s for sure.”
It was true. The plains were as quiet and peaceful as they could be.
Bill went back to his blankets, but his slumber was even more restless the remainder of the night. He didn’t know if he had really heard riders, and even if he had, there was no way of knowing if they were part of the outlaw gang. Other people might be traveling out here.
Despite knowing that, his instincts told him what he’d heard might be important, and that was a prod that kept him awake until exhaustion finally forced him to succumb.
Bill had the members of the posse up early the next morning, and after a hurried breakfast, they set off again as soon as it was light enough to see the tracks they had been following. Bill set a fast pace again today, thinking that this might be the day they would catch up to their quarry at last.
Chico Flynn was surly the next morning after his battle with Caleb, but he didn’t say anything, evidently content to keep his distance and glare in Caleb’s direction every now and then.
He glanced at Eden, too, but didn’t approach her.
That was somewhat disappointing. She had hoped to drive a wedge between the members of the gang. She knew that if it came to a showdown between Chico and Caleb, some of the outlaws, maybe even most of them, would support Chico.
On the other hand, Caleb seemed to be devoted to keeping her alive and relatively unharmed, even if it was only because he wanted her for himself, eventually. If he wasn’t around anymore, there was no telling what the rest of the gang might do.
For one thing, Hannah would probably want to go ahead and just shoot her. It was clear that the redhead hated her.
No, as bad as it seemed on the surface, the status quo was probably preferable right now, Eden decided.
That might all change when they reached those badlands they kept talking about.
Hannah brought her half a cup of coffee and a stale biscuit for breakfast. Eden had been hog-tied the night before as Hannah had threatened. Her wrists were lashed behind her back, her ankles were tied, and a length of rope ran between wrists and ankles so that her body was bent and cramped in an awkward, uncomfortable position. She was grateful when Hannah untied her and allowed her to sit up and eat.
“Will we get to the badlands today?” she asked.
“What business is that of yours?” Hannah snapped.
“I’m just curious, that’s all,” Eden said with a shrug. “I’ve never ridden this far before. I’m tired.”
“I’ve told you before, things ain’t gonna get better for you once we’re there.”
“Anything will be better than bouncing in a saddle all day.”
That brought a laugh from Hannah.
“I’ll ask you in a week or so if you still feel that way,” she said.
Eden didn’t say anything else, just drank the coffee and gnawed on the hard biscuit. She was growing numb in both mind and body. She didn’t know how long she could survive this ordeal.
She wasn’t going to give up, though, because she knew that Bill wouldn’t.
At one point during that long day, she found herself wondering just why she had so much confidence in him. True, he had stood up to the dangers facing Redemption, but she had known him less than a year. Did she really know how determined he would be to follow the outlaws and rescue her? She didn’t doubt his love, but would his despair overwhelm it in the end, causing him to abandon the chase?
She wouldn’t allow herself to think that. She just couldn’t.
Sometime during the afternoon, she realized that something lay ahead of them on the horizon. For days now she had seen nothing but the endless prairie around them and had grown so accustomed to that monotony that at first she didn’t even notice anything different.
But when she did, it was shocking. The thing, whatever it was, jutted up in sharp contrast to the plains surrounding it.
“What in the world?” she muttered under her breath.
Hannah, riding beside her, must have heard the startled question.
“Castle Rock,” the redhead said. “Ever see anything like it?”
Eden hadn’t.
It was a huge rock formation, reared up from the surrounding plains by some geologic upheaval in ages past, and as a matter of fact, it did look a little like the sort of storybook castles Eden had seen pictures of. Four thick, towering stone spires were crowded together at their bases as they rose from the prairie. The formation gleamed a grayish white in the sun.
“There’s a lot of chalk in the rock,” Hannah said. “That’s what gives it that color.”
Castle Rock itself wasn’t the only thing different, Eden realized. Beyond it lay a dark line rising from the prairie, and as the riders came closer she began to be able to make out details. The line was actually a series of jagged, rocky ridges that rose a hundred feet or more from the plains, extending to the south like gnarled fingers and forming a twisting maze of canyons.
“Those are the badlands,” she said.
“Yeah,” Hannah said. “The Castle Rock badlands, because of the rock standin’ there like a sentinel in front of ’em.” The woman went on in smug satisfaction, “I told you, it’d take an army to get us out of there.”
Looking at the badlands now, Eden saw that Hannah was right. She felt her heart sinking. Bill didn’t know this country. He might not even be able to find her in that maze, let alone rescue her from the outlaws. For the first time since being carried out of Redemption as a prisoner, she felt hope slipping away from her. Out here on the plains, she might have stood a chance in a running fight between the outlaws and the posse…
But now it seemed there was no chance for her to escape her fate, whatever that might be.
Tatum reined to a halt in the shade of the huge rock formation and the others did likewise. He turned in his saddle to look at his men and said, “All right. Dave,
Roy, you’re the best rifle shots. You know what to do.”
The men nodded and dismounted.
Eden asked, “What are they going to do?”
Tatum smiled at her. Her face was gray with fatigue and hopelessness, but she would come around once she realized she might as well make the best of the situation, he told himself.
“They’re going to take their rifles and climb up to the top of the rock,” he explained. “From up there they’ll be able to see for ten miles or more. If that posse is still on our trail, Dave and Roy will see them coming.”
“So they can signal you?”
“Well…it won’t work exactly like that.”
Tatum saw the young woman’s eyes widen as she realized what he was talking about. She said, “Oh, my God. You wouldn’t—”
“That gap there is the best approach to the badlands,” Tatum went on, pointing. “But nobody can get to it without riding right past Castle Rock. And nobody can ride past Castle Rock as long as my men are up there with plenty of ammunition.” Tatum shrugged. “Of course, it probably won’t come to that. Dave and Roy will let them get close before opening fire. That posse won’t know they’re up there. It’ll be like target practice for them.”
“You…you…” Clearly she was struggling to find something bad enough to call him.
“Careful now,” Tatum warned with a smile. “You may not realize it, but I’m just about the only friend you’ve got.” He lifted himself in the stirrups to ease his muscles, then waved the others forward. “Come on. We can make the hideout by nightfall.”
Chapter 28
Bill hauled back on the reins and brought his horse to a stop. Beside him, Josiah Hartnett did likewise. Behind them, Jesse Overstreet and the rest of the posse followed suit.
Crossing his hands on the saddle horn and leaning forward to peer into the distance, Bill asked, “What the devil is that?”
“Got to be Castle Rock,” Hartnett answered with a smile. “I’ve never laid eyes on it myself until now, but I’ve heard about it. I don’t know what else a thing like that could be, out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Neither did Bill. He had heard that there were some pretty spectacular rock formations out in west Texas, but he had never seen them. In the part of Texas where he had grown up, there were some good-sized hills here and there, but the countryside was mostly flat and grassy, much like Kansas in the area around Redemption.
“That’d be the badlands on the other side of those rocks?” he asked Hartnett.
“Yep. It’s pretty rugged country. Folks don’t think of there being anything like that in Kansas.”
Bill certainly wouldn’t have, if he hadn’t been forced to chase those outlaws up here. It made sense that they would choose the most rugged terrain they could find for their hideout.
Overstreet brought his horse up alongside Bill’s mount and said, “Looks like the tracks run straight at that thing.”
“Yeah,” Bill agreed.
“You don’t reckon they’re hidin’ behind it, waitin’ to jump us, do you?”
Bill frowned in thought and looked over at Hartnett.
“Is it big enough for that?”
“Like I told you, I’ve never been here, either,” the liveryman replied. “And from this distance, it’s hard to tell exactly how big it really is.”
“Maybe we should swing wide around it.”
“We could do that,” Hartnett said, “but the way it looks from here, the gap leading into the badlands is right behind it, so we’d just have to come back.”
Bill studied the layout for a moment and then nodded.
“You’re right,” he said. “But I don’t like the idea of ridin’ right past it without doing some scouting first. The rest of you stay here. I’ll ride on ahead and see if the way is clear.”
“You mean ride right into an ambush if there is one?” Hartnett asked. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You got a better one?”
“I do,” Overstreet said. “Let me go.”
“I don’t know—” Bill began.
“Didn’t we have this talk before, Marshal? You’re in charge of this posse, and in charge of law and order for a whole town as well. I’m just a shiftless cowboy. If I get killed, the posse can still go on.” Overstreet grinned. “And you’ll know for sure that it’s a trap, won’t you?”
“I won’t ask any man to do something I won’t,” Bill insisted.
Overstreet pulled his horse to the side, snatched his hat off his head, and said, “You ain’t askin’ me, I’m volunteerin’!”
With that, he slapped his horse on the rump with his hat and sent the animal lunging forward into a gallop.
Bill bit back a curse.
“Not very good about followin’ orders, is he?” Hartnett said.
“Texans usually aren’t,” Bill said. “Come on. We’ll close up behind him. Those rocks are at least a mile off. We can stay out of easy rifle range and maybe still be close enough to give him a hand if he gets in trouble.”
The posse rode toward Castle Rock at a slower pace. Overstreet steadily drew out farther in front of them. Bill didn’t watch the young cowboy. He knew what Overstreet was going to do.
He kept his eyes on the rock formation instead, searching for any sign of an ambush.
That alertness was why he saw something: a flash of color, a glint of late afternoon sunlight on something shiny and metallic. The spires that formed Castle Rock were a dull, chalky grayish white. The sun wouldn’t be reflecting on them.
Bill threw up a hand in a signal to stop and then reached for his rifle as his horse skidded to a halt.
“What is it?” Hartnett asked.
“The spire in the center,” Bill said. “There’s somebody up there!”
Moving quickly, he pulled his rifle from the saddle boot, worked the lever, and lifted it to his shoulder. The posse was still half a mile, maybe a little farther from Castle Rock, but Jesse Overstreet was closer, well within rifle range. Bill raised the barrel of his Henry, angling it up in hopes of gaining more distance.
He saw a puff of smoke from the center spire.
Overstreet toppled off his horse.
Bill pulled the trigger.
With a whipcrack report, the rifle kicked back hard against his shoulder. He worked the lever again and called to Hartnett and the rest of the men, “Open fire on that rock in the center!”
The men spread out and did so, sending a rain of .44-caliber rounds toward Castle Rock. Bill figured most of the bullets fell short, but some of them might carry that far. Mainly he was just trying to distract the men who had waited in ambush up there, maybe make them duck their heads and hold their own fire for a few minutes.
He cranked off several more rounds as fast as he could jack the rifle’s lever and squeeze the trigger, then rammed the Henry back in its sheath.
“Keep pourin’ it on ’em!” he told Hartnett. “Advance and fire!”
“What are you going to do?” Hartnett asked over the roar of gunfire.
“See if Jesse’s still alive!”
Bill kicked his horse into a run.
He leaned forward in the saddle, holding the reins with one hand while he pressed his hat to his head with the other to keep it from flying off. Overstreet had landed in some tall grass, so Bill couldn’t see him anymore, but he knew about where the young cowboy had fallen. Overstreet’s horse, obviously badly spooked, had galloped off in the other direction.
Bill glanced up at the rock formations as he rode. He didn’t see any more gunsmoke rising from the one in the center, but that didn’t mean anything. The bushwhackers could still be firing down at him. But he hadn’t felt or heard any bullets, so he didn’t swerve from his course.
Suddenly, as he neared the spot where Overstreet had pitched from the saddle, an arm thrust up from the grass and waved. Bill veered his mount closer. Overstreet leaped up and ran to meet him. Judging by the way he was moving, he didn’t seem to be hurt too b
adly.
Dirt jumped in the air as bullets struck the ground just behind the running man. The bushwhackers were still alive up there.
Bill slowed his horse and reached down as Overstreet reached up. The two men clasped wrists. Bill hauled up as hard as he could, swinging Overstreet onto the horse behind him.
After that he didn’t hesitate. Turning around and trying to rejoin the posse was just about the worst thing he could do. So instead he sent the horse pounding hard toward the base of the massive spires.
“That’s good thinkin’!” Overstreet yelled as he hung on for dear life. “We get close enough and they won’t be able to fire down on us!”
That was the way Bill saw it, too.
It took only a couple of minutes for them to cover the rest of the distance to Castle Rock, but those were a long two minutes to Bill, never knowing from one second to the next when a bullet might smash into him, end his life, and end any chance he had of rescuing Eden. All he could do was keep going, though.
Keep going and hope.
When they reached the base of the spires, Bill reined in and dropped out of the saddle, pulling his rifle out again as he did so. Overstreet slid down from the horse and joined him. They crouched next to the chalky rock face that rose almost straight up.
“How’d they get up there?” Overstreet exclaimed. “They must’ve flown like damn buzzards!”
Bill figured the rock had to be rough enough in places that a man could climb it with a rifle slung on his back. He put that matter aside and asked Overstreet, “How bad are you hit?”
“I’m not hit,” the cowboy replied.
“How come you fell off your horse, then?”
“I didn’t fall, I jumped! Those fellas had the range and the elevation on me. I knew if I stayed on my horse they’d be able to pick me off. There’s no real cover out there for a man on horseback. So I jumped off and got down in that grass where they couldn’t see me anymore.”
That was pretty smart, thought Bill, and he was glad that Overstreet wasn’t wounded. But they had other problems now. He waved his rifle over his head to let the other members of the posse know they were all right and then motioned for them to back off and spread out.
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