Love Finds You in Sundance, Wyoming

by Miralee Ferrell

  Nothing else moved. What now? Go back to the ranch and tell Travis the truth? But if she did, she’d have to tell him about her past. She nudged her horse forward. If someone was watching they’d probably follow. The bluff with the gushing spring and pool wasn’t far away, and cattle dotted the area. The cowboys guarded the bigger herd on the far side of the range, and she doubted anyone was posted at the bluff. That might be a good place to lie in wait for Hinson.

  Bella seemed to sense her need for action and broke from a trot into a canter. Angel loosened her reins and let the mare have her head. Within moments they moved into a hard gallop bordering on a flatout run. The pace suited Angel’s mood. Hard, pounding, and dangerous. They swerved around chuck holes and jumped small washes. Finally, Angel decided she’d taken enough chances with her mare and slowed her to a trot. They’d covered a lot of ground in a short amount of time, and it would pay to approach the spring with care.

  Nothing moved but the grazing cattle as Bella and Angel slowed to a walk. The midday heat radiated from the nearby cliffs, and sweat rolled down the side of her face. She plucked a bandanna from her pocket, wiped her cheeks, and knotted it around her neck. The water in her canteen would be tepid by now. She swung down from her horse and walked beside her to the pool. After letting Bella have her fill, she removed her canteen from the back of her saddle and held it under the flowing stream. The sound of the water soothed her agitation, and she smiled. She’d been foolish coming out here alone and thinking she could do anything to trap Hinson. From now on she’d leave the capture of outlaws to Travis. Her belly reminded her she’d missed dinner. Time to head back to the ranch.

  “Hands up, lady,” a coarse voice said behind her.

  Angel froze, her canteen still gripped in her fist.

  “I’ve got a six-gun trained on your back. Put your hands in the air if you don’t want a bullet in your gizzard.”

  She raised her arms, retaining her hold on the canteen. “Hinson?”

  “Naw. But he’ll be along, don’t you worry your pretty head. Too bad, if you ask me. I wouldn’t a’minded a little private entertainment, know what I mean?” The last words broke on a laugh that sent a shiver up Angel’s back. “Turn around. Slow.”

  She did as she was told, keeping her arms in the air. A man holding a Colt revolver stood about ten paces away. “I don’t recognize you.”

  His hat shaded his face, but his eyes gleamed. “No matter.” He shifted a large wad of tobacco from one cheek to the other, then leaned over to spit. He swiped at his lips with the back of his hand and leered. “Heard all sorts of things ‘bout you from the others, though.”

  Angel shivered. If only she hadn’t left her rifle on her saddle. There was no way she’d get her pistol out of her holster with him watching.

  “Hinson thinks you’re some kind of hand with a gun.” He barked a sharp laugh. “Funny, you wearin’ that iron on your hip. Ain’t never seen no woman wearin’ a six-gun before.” He flicked his wrist. “Toss it on out here. I reckon it’s mostly for show, but no sense takin’ chances. Pick it out nice and easy with your fingertips and drop it at your feet.”

  She did as he said, pinching the butt of the gun between her thumb and finger and lifting it clear of the holster. She started to lean over and place it on the ground.

  “I said drop it.” His voice sharpened, and he took a step closer.

  Angel released her hold, and the gun hit the dirt.

  “Now kick it away from you. This direction.”

  Once again she obeyed his orders, seething at her helplessness. The gun skittered out of her reach and slid close to the outlaw’s feet. “Now what?”

  “We wait. Sit on that rock and don’t move.” He pointed at a nearby boulder and watched while she moved over and sat. “I can see why Hinson wants you. Yes, sir.”

  “Wants me? He wants Travis Morgan’s cattle.”

  “A lot you know. The cattle are payment to the rest of us for ridin’ along. As far as he’s concerned, we come to get you.”

  Travis stared at Arizona and Charlie. “You let her ride off on her own?”

  Red crept up Charlie’s neck, and he uttered something under his breath.

  “Speak up, man. Whatever you’ve got to say spit it out.” Travis didn’t care how harsh he sounded; he’d personally throttle these two if anything happened to Angel.

  “Arizona wanted to stay, but she told us you wanted us both back pronto. Said she was tracking one of the horses and would be right back.”

  “Yeah, Boss. I told her I didn’t want to leave. I’ll head back.” Arizona jerked his horse’s head around.

  “Hold it!” Travis’s sharp retort made the man jump. “We’re all heading out. I don’t know what she’s up to, but something’s not right. She brought the horses in before she left.”

  Arizona’s face crumpled. “She lied to me?”

  “Looks that way, and I aim to find out why.” Travis turned to the silent cowboys standing around. “Mount up, men, and make sure you’re armed.”

  Angel couldn’t move. Hinson wanted her? The man had made her skin crawl when she lived at the stronghold, but she figured he’d forgotten her by now and found another woman. She shot up another frantic prayer toward heaven, hoping someone was listening.

  Hoofs pounded the ground behind her, and she turned. Four dusty men rode around the corner of the cliff. Rifle barrels glinted in the sun, and Bart Hinson broke into a grin. “You got her.” He gestured to the man holding the gun. “Mount up. We’re heading out.”

  “Where to?”

  “You want those cattle, don’t you?”

  The outlaw jumped to his feet, a broad smile creasing his darkly tanned face. “Right smart, we do. But we’d best hustle before someone comes lookin’ for this one.” He gestured toward Angel. “I got her gun off’n her, Boss, but it’s probably just for show. She’s some humdinger of a looker. Woo-whee!”

  Hinson lunged forward. He whipped his arm backward and let loose a mighty swing. His fist connected with the man’s jaw, snapping his head back. The outlaw fell with a grunt, hitting the ground hard and lying still. Hinson swung around and stared at the group of mounted men behind him. “Anyone else want to say something about my woman?”

  No one spoke, but each head shook a negative response.

  Angel almost gagged. She stiffened and rose to her feet. “I am not your woman, Hinson, and you’d do well to remember that.”

  “That’s what you think, little lady. Why you figure that old, fat cowhand only got his head busted instead of killed?”

  She shrugged, determined not to give him the satisfaction of trying to guess.

  “I done that for you.” He grinned.

  “Like you tried to burn the barn? For me?” She took a step forward, her hands balled into fists. She wanted to punch him in the gut. Better yet, she itched to get her hands on a gun.

  “Sure. Just for you.” Hinson gave a raw laugh. “And don’t you forget it. I burned that barn and hit that man to show you I meant business. I coulda just as easily plugged that youngster when he made a trip to the privy this mornin’.”

  She shivered. Hinson had seen James outside? How long had the man been watching the ranch? “I’ll help you get the cattle. I’ll even take them to the next territory if that’s what you need. Promise you won’t hurt anyone else.”

  “No promises. You’ll do what I say without bellyachin’. Get on your horse and move out. Now.”

  Hope flickered in Angel’s heart. Her rifle was still in her scabbard. The other outlaw had taken her pistol but hadn’t thought to remove her rifle. If she could keep that side of her horse away from Hinson, she might have a chance. She picked up Bella’s reins and her mare snorted and danced sideways, turning the rifle away from the outlaws. Angel shot up a prayer of thanks and swung up, settling into her saddle. All she could do was hope they’d be so focused on moving the cattle before anyone arrived that they wouldn’t think of checking to see if she was still armed.
r />   Chapter Thirty-Two

  Travis, Nate, and the four cowboys settled into a rolling canter, traveling in a straight line toward the only herd of cattle they hadn’t yet checked—the ones grazing at the big spring. How could he have been so careless as to let Angel leave the ranch? Sure, he was tending to Smokey and assumed she was occupied in the house, but he should’ve known better. Angel was the most stubborn, independent— he sighed—beautiful, free-spirited woman he’d had privilege of meeting, and he couldn’t bear to think of anything happening to her.

  They’d all come loaded for bear. If the man who attacked Smokey laid a hand on Angel, he’d live to rue the day. Men were hanged in the West for accosting a lady, and they’d apply necktie justice before the day was out.

  Raven snorted and jerked at the reins, seeming to sense his rider’s impatience. “Easy, boy.” Travis hauled in his own frustration and reminded himself he was a law-abiding citizen. The thought galled him. He was also a man, and he wanted to pummel anyone who got in his way of bringing Angel home. Travis allowed himself a grim smile. Pummeling would be forgiven easier than hanging.

  Nothing stirred against the horizon. The silence rubbed at his nerves. Crows should be soaring on the warm drafts of air, cows bawling, or the occasional coyote or fox scurrying across the trail, but all lay still. He lifted his heart in supplication to God, begging that He keep Angel safe. If he had to get down on his knees to convince her not to return with Maria, he’d willingly do so. Placing an ocean between them wasn’t an option.

  Travis motioned to the men to fan out across the grasslands. Nate fell away to his right, with Charlie and Bud beyond him. Arizona and Wren galloped off to the left, and he made note of more than one rifle removed from the scabbard. He loosened his own, feeling the muscles in his gut tense with anticipation. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be within sight of the spring. Maybe they’d complicated this entire situation and Angel was doing what she’d claimed—tracking a stray horse. Sure, she’d rounded up the ones from the barn, but what was to say another hadn’t gotten free from a fence or a pen? He’d look like a fool chasing down a woman who wasn’t in danger, but he didn’t care. His instincts told him different, and he’d trust those over a possibility any day.

  Angel swung wide around the herd of cattle, ever aware of the watchful eye of Bart Hinson. He or one of the other men stayed close beside her. Hinson’s taunting gaze had gone to her rifle, and a smirk crossed his flat face. He’d raised his brows but didn’t speak. There was no need. She got the message: touch it and die.

  She wondered if part of him almost hoped she’d try so he could teach her a lesson. Strange that he seemed obsessed by her as well as revealing the need to conquer. At this point she wouldn’t tempt him to reach for a gun or tie her to her horse. She’d bide her time until an opportunity afforded, then pray that God’s hand would be extended in her hour of need.

  What must Travis and Libby be thinking? She should’ve been back a couple of hours ago. Would they be looking for her by now? Part of her longed to be found, but her sensible side shook off the need. Lives would be lost if the cowboys appeared, with no guarantee someone she cared about wouldn’t be among them.

  How had she gotten herself into this mess? If only she’d swallowed her pride and taken her chances with the law—and with Libby and Travis’s ability to understand and forgive. Angel glanced at the rough-looking man riding a black gelding a stone’s throw away. His attention wandered to a rogue steer dashing out of the herd. She dropped her head and allowed her shoulders to sag, hoping he wouldn’t see her as a threat. His horse’s hoofs beating a staccato against the hard ground brought a small smile to Angel’s lips, but she kept her head bowed.

  A slight tug on the reins turned Bella a little farther to the side, and she slowly dropped behind a few paces. If only she could fall far enough back to make a dash for it. Most of these men could plug her with a rifle even on a running horse, but she had to try. She’d seen the possessive look in Hinson’s eyes. Getting shot in the back was preferable to falling into his lecherous grasp.

  Hinson had his own hands full at the moment, keeping the back edge of the herd bunched. The greedy outlaw had tried to snatch too many cattle for the number of rustlers hazing the edges of the moving melee.

  She fell farther back along the fringes on the outside edge, keeping a wary eye on the rustler assigned to watch her. Her hand rested on the butt of her rifle. She eased it out of the scabbard and dangled it against Bella’s offside.

  A shout went up from one of the men. “Riders coming!” The outlaws riding closest to the rear swiveled to gaze behind them, and as one man, they shucked their guns from holsters and scabbards.

  Hinson pivoted. A curse ripped from his throat, and he bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Get these cows moving, men, and shoot while you ride.” Gunfire exploded, and the cattle surged ahead in a mass, charging through the brush.

  Angel looked over her shoulder. Both relief and dread washed over her heart. Travis and a long line of cowboys raced their horses a few hundred feet behind the now stampeding herd. Travis had his gun drawn, and the grim-faced cowboys each held a rifle or a six-gun in their hands.

  Cattle bawled as the wild-eyed beasts ran unfettered. Horns clashed against one another and foam from their open mouths whipped behind them in the wind. A large brindle steer jostled his way through a tight clump of cattle, head high and his gaze trained on the outlaw to his right. The mad animal seemed intent on overtaking the horse, his head and wide-spread horns swinging with each leaping stride.

  Angel watched mesmerized as the scene played out. She wanted to cheer for the steer in his dash to run down the rider but felt ashamed of the bloodlust welling up inside. The man didn’t seem aware of the crazed animal so close on his heels. A sudden swing of the steer’s head, and one of his horns caught the bay gelding in the haunch, sending the horse tripping, then rolling onto the ground. The rider flew clear, landing on his neck. His body lay sprawled with his head at a crooked angle. The horse lunged to his feet, racing off in the opposite direction.

  Hinson turned his hard gaze on the rider and swore. He yanked his horse around and spurred him toward Angel. “Get over here. Now!” His pistol came level with her chest. “You’re riding next to me from here on.” He motioned with his gun. “Get a move on before those riders catch up.”

  Angel whipped up her rifle. There was no time to aim. Bella lunged forward as she leveled her rifle. She prayed her bullet wouldn’t find his horse instead of his chest. The mare swerved just as the gun bucked in her grip, the bullet tugging at his sleeve as it passed. She laid her reins and spurs into Bella’s sides, and the startled mare leapt forward, charging through the brush. A shout sounded behind her, easily recognizable as Hinson. Angel guided her mare around rocks and roots churned up by the cattle.

  The pound of hoofs drew closer, and she chanced a backward glance. Hinson. She swung Bella in a wide circle, heading toward the charging, bellowing herd. The risk of injury would increase the closer she came to the cattle, but it seemed her only hope of evading the outlaw.

  She shot up a prayer for safety—first for her horse, then for herself. No way did she want to go down under the trampling mass of horns and hooves, or see her horse maimed.

  Shots reverberated off to the side and behind her, but Angel kept her focus on the charging cattle lunging on each side of her horse. She urged Bella forward, trying to keep pace with the terrified animals bellowing their fear. Calves raced beside their mothers, barely able to keep their feet.

  Her thoughts went to her grandmother and sorrow engulfed her. She’d never told Maria she loved her—never expressed her gratitude that she’d come so far to find her. If she survived this frantic race and returned to the ranch, that was the first thing she’d do.

  A steer darted in front of Bella, and Angel hauled back on her reins. The quick-footed mare sat on her haunches and skidded, but another, smaller cow slammed into her hip, nearly toppling the mare into
the mass of animals rushing by. Somehow Angel got Bella’s head up and helped her regain her balance. Fear surged through her body, and her breath quickened.

  Where was Hinson? Had the man given up, or better yet, been shot by one of the pursuing cowboys? She kept Bella moving at a fast trot and peered around her. Her spine stiffened, and she froze.

  A pistol gripped in Hinson’s hand was aimed at her heart, and only a dozen cows separated them.

  Angel’s heart rate quickened. The man meant to shoot. He spurred his horse toward her, releasing a cursing roar.

  A brush of her heels sent Bella lunging forward. She lifted her rifle and snapped off a shot, praying she’d hit her mark. The man jerked and blood blossomed on his arm, but he kept coming.

  An answering shot rang out. Sharp pain ripped through the fleshy part of her shoulder.

  A bellow of fierce satisfaction flew from Hinson’s mouth.

  Angel gripped the saddle horn, struggling to maintain her seat and not slip into the darkness tugging at her mind. Bella settled into a trot and moved to the side toward a scant patch of grass. The last thing Angel remembered before sliding from her saddle was the grinning Bart Hinson moving up alongside her mare.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Travis hauled back hard on his horse’s mouth and slid to a stop, horror rising inside. Angel had fallen from her horse, and a man was swinging down alongside her. His cowboys had already accounted for one dead rustler, and the herd of stampeding cattle took care of another. Arizona and Wren were hard on the heels of two who had fled, and his other cowhands were heading off the exhausted cattle. That left the hombre standing over Angel.

  White-hot anger filled him. He’d seen Angel wing the rustler and the man pull his pistol, getting off a shot before Travis could so much as lift his gun.