Rosanne Bittner

by Paradise Valley

  Thirty-four

  Sage threw in his hand and pulled a watch from his vest pocket to check the time.

  Ten o’clock. He and Newell and Johnny Carpenter had searched all day for John Polk, but he was nowhere to be found. They’d checked with most of the businesses, sat on the boardwalk watching people, asked around at brothels and saloons, then stayed here at Chet’s Saloon the rest of the day, and now, into the night, hoping Polk would show up at his favorite drinking hole.

  Sage feared the man had left the area after all. He might catch up with Jimmy Hart and Jasper and join forces with them. He figured he might as well head for Hole-In-The-Wall in the morning and take the chance he’d find all three men there. He glanced across the table at Newell. “I’ve about had enough of this card game and enough whiskey.”

  “You thinkin’ of checkin’ out some other places again?”

  Sage scooted back his chair. “Might as well. I’ve been sitting at this table so long I’m getting calluses on my elbows.” He gathered what money he had left and rose. “I’m out, boys.” He picked up his cigarette from an ashtray and took a couple more drags, then snuffed out the stub. Discarded peanut shells crunched under his boots as he walked to the bar where Johnny sat.

  Newell got up and collected what was left of his money. “I’m out too, fellas.”

  “Come back tomorrow night, Newell, and we’ll gladly take more of your money.” The words came from Rob Fisher, a man Newell had befriended since coming to Lander.

  Newell grinned. “You were just lucky tonight.”

  Rob guffawed as Newell joined Johnny and Sage at the bar. “That Polk fella had better show up before we’re too drunk to shoot straight,” he told Sage.

  Sage rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “I was thinking the same.”

  “Why not check the other saloons and the brothels again,” Johnny suggested.

  “Yeah,” Newell put in. “Maybe Polk decided he needed a woman tonight more than he needed whiskey and cards. From what you and Kate have told me about his habit of beatin’ up whores, I can’t believe he ain’t been to see any here in town. And we both know he can get all the whiskey he wants at the brothels. Costs more than in the saloons, but it’s generally worth it.”

  He winked, and all three men chuckled. Sage thought Johnny Carpenter seemed a good sort, more kid than man. He reminded Sage of himself at that age, a homeless young man who’d come to outlaw country at sixteen years old. In Johnny’s case, he was seeking safety and protection from his own alcoholic father who’d horribly abused him his whole life. That was two years ago. Johnny found refuge here… and a job with the blacksmith. He’d never gone back home, wherever home was. He never said.

  “Sorry I wasn’t much help tonight,” Johnny told Sage. “I walked out a couple of times to check next door at the Silverheels Saloon. Last time I checked was about twenty minutes ago. Polk wasn’t there.”

  “It’s not your fault he chose tonight not to show up,” Sage answered.

  Johnny shrugged. “Maybe he saw you and decided to leave town after all… maybe join up with them other two.”

  “That’s what I’ve been thinking,” Sage answered, “and it worries me. Something doesn’t feel right about this whole thing. Let’s go check next door again and then head down the street to Sadie’s Saloon. She has whores upstairs. Maybe he’s there.”

  “Fine with me,” Newell answered.

  The three headed for the swinging entry door when a man stumbled inside with a young blond woman on his arm. Both were obviously drunk, and the woman’s low-cut dress hung nearly off the ends of her breasts.

  “Shit, it’s Polk!” Johnny exclaimed.

  Because of the heat, Polk wasn’t wearing his trademark black coat. He recognized Sage, but not in time. Before he could go for his gun, Sage grabbed him and flung him through the swinging saloon doors. He landed so hard in the street that it knocked the breath out of him. That gave Sage plenty of time to grab the man’s six-gun and fling it aside. In spite of Polk’s size, Sage jerked him up by the front of his shirt.

  “We have something to discuss!” Sage growled.

  “Who the hell are you?” the blond woman screamed. “You let go of him!”

  “Shut up, Hilda!”

  Sage recognized Newell’s voice.

  “Go on back to Sadie’s place, and stay out of this!”

  Hilda’s eyes widened with indignation, and she stormed away.

  Sage dragged a dazed Polk to a watering trough and dunked him into it, holding him under the water long enough that he’d be disoriented and willing to talk by the time he let him up. He jerked him out of the water and slammed him to the ground, putting a knee in his groin while he held him down with one hand around his throat. Onlookers had gathered to watch. Johnny and Newell forced some back with guns drawn as a warning to stay out of the situation.

  “You warned Jimmy Hart and Jasper that I was coming, didn’t you?” Sage demanded.

  “Get off me,” Polk sputtered.

  “You knew all of them, didn’t you? Cleve, Jasper and Jimmy Hart!”

  “You’re… cuttin’ off… my air! You’re… killin’ me!”

  “I should have killed you the last time we met! Now, answer my question!”

  Polk squirmed to get away, and Sage backhanded him “Where did they go? Answer me, or I’ll gouge out your eyes!”

  Blood trickled from the corner of Polk’s mouth. “I rode with them three… awhile back… hunted buffalo with them… but whatever reason you’re after them… I ain’t got nothin’ to do with it! I just… knew them once. When I saw you shoot Cleve back in Atlantic City… I figured I should warn the other two!”

  Sage jerked him back to his feet, swiftly drawing his forty-five caliber and aiming it directly at Polk’s face. “You try to run, and I’ll blow your brains out! Did they tell you why I was looking for them?”

  Polk looked around, guilt in his eyes. “Well, they… they said they took money from you… killed one of your hands.”

  Sage pressed the revolver to the man’s forehead. “That’s it? They didn’t say anything about attacking a woman out on the plains and murdering her husband?”

  Polk swallowed. “They might have, but abusin’ a woman ain’t somethin’ I look at exactly as a crime.”

  Sage slammed his six-gun across the side of the man’s face. Polk spun around and collapsed to the ground. Blood poured from a cut near his temple as he looked at Sage and snarled. “You bastard! All I did was warn them! I didn’t have nothin’ to do with anything they did!”

  “I’m the one you should have warned, you worthless son of a bitch! Tell me where they’re headed.”

  Polk wiped at the blood on his face with a shaking hand. “They said somethin’ about goin’ up to Hole-In-The-Wall, but I don’t know if they did or not. You’d better watch your back, Indian,” he snarled. “They’re itchin’ to kill you to get you off their backs, and they talked about havin’ a time with that woman you’ve got with you.”

  Sage struggled not to pull the trigger. “You told them I had a woman with me?”

  Polk drew a deep breath. “I might have. Seemed like it might be of interest.”

  “Yeah, you have a real big interest in women, don’t you, Polk? Figured maybe you’d join them and have your turn with her once they did me in, right?” Sage walked over and picked up Polk’s six-gun, then tossed it at the man’s feet. “Pick it up, Polk!”

  Polk stiffened. “Now, wait a minute! I ain’t as good with a gun as you, and you know it!”

  The crowd backed away. Johnny and Newell kept an eye on them, knowing Jimmy and Jasper could be anywhere. Just then a commotion arose across the street. Sage kept a steady aim on Polk as men began shouting.

  “Kate! It’s Kate Bassett!”

  “God damn, look at her!”

  Polk’s eyes widened, and he backed up.

  “What’s that all about, Polk?” Sage growled.

  “I… I ain’t sure.”
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  “Newell, you’d better go see what’s happening,” Sage told the man, his eyes fixed on Polk.

  “I’m already on it,” Newell answered, hurrying to three men carrying Kate. Newell recognized them as a couple of Kate’s houseguests.

  “Where’s the doctor’s office?” one asked Newell.

  “Up there, above the medicine store,” Newell told him. “Give her to me!” He took Kate into his arms. “What happened?”

  “I found her this way, lying in the kitchen with her head bashed in,” the man answered. “That young woman who was staying there… she’s gone.”

  Sage heard every word, and his gut wrenched with agony. Maggie! He had no doubt this was Jasper’s doing, and it was all because he’d been warned by the man standing in front of him. He walked closer to Polk, his six-gun only a couple of inches from his face. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew they were going to take her.”

  Polk shook his head. “I swear, I didn’t!”

  “You’re lying, Polk! Pick up your gun!”

  “No!”

  “Pick it up!” Sage roared. He put his own gun back in its holster. Polk hesitated, glanced at his six-gun on the ground. Then he made a dive for it. Sage waited until the gun was in his hand and cocked. Before the man could pull the trigger, Sage drew his own revolver and shot him between the eyes.

  People gasped as Polk crumpled to the ground.

  A saloon girl screamed and ran inside Chet’s Saloon.

  Several followed her inside wary of the mood Sage was in.

  Trembling with rage and dread, Sage turned to see Newell heading up the stairs to the doctor’s office with Kate in his arms. Sage felt responsible. He never should have got Kate involved in this mess, never should have left her and Maggie alone. Jasper or Jimmy must have watched Sage’s movements earlier today, figured out where he was staying—maybe even caught sight of Maggie. How in hell either man went unnoticed, Sage couldn’t be sure, but he had no doubt Polk had helped in this, and now, they were damn well headed for Hole-In-The-Wall… with Maggie! They meant to lead Sage right into a death trap. Poor Maggie could already be dead… or wishing she were. He walked to Polk’s dead body. “Her name was Maggie,” he groaned through gritted teeth, “and she’s the best woman who ever stepped foot in Wyoming!”

  Thirty-five

  For untold miles over the last three days, Maggie survived a hellish journey that followed a wall of red-rock cliffs meandering alongside a vast, yellow-grass valley. She knew without a doubt that Jimmy and Jasper were headed for the famed Hole-In-The-Wall. The huge valley and rock walls that guarded it stretched for mile after endless mile. She felt swallowed up by the landscape of grass and shale and rippling hillsides that graduated to the intimidating cliffs.

  It was impossible to guess how many miles a person could see in any direction. It was as though this place had no beginning and no end, and she imagined that from the top of that bastion of a wall that bordered the valley, one could see for even more miles. How was Sage going to find her in this maze of sand, grassland, hills, plateaus, caves, and mesas? In some places, huge boulders lay scattered as though God himself had been playing marbles and just tossed them wherever He chose. There was no explanation for them lying in the middle of miles and miles of flatland, too far from the cliffs to have rolled there on their own.

  She told herself not to lose faith in Sage’s ability to track men in this godforsaken country. If any man could find her, it was Sage Lightfoot. This thought was all that kept her going through a constant pounding headache that sometimes caused her to vomit. She tried to concentrate on the landscape to help keep from thinking what might happen to her next.

  Jimmy and Jasper had ridden from dawn to dusk the past three days to get here as fast as possible, changing horses twice—once by dickering with a rancher, and once by trading with men they met along the trail who were herding several mustangs they’d broken. In both cases, Jasper kept Maggie at a distance with Jimmy, so the men he dealt with couldn’t see her up close and realize she was a captive.

  Maggie suspected both men knew that even out here, there were men who wouldn’t abide abusing a decent woman. She hung on to the realization that part of the reason the men traveled so fast was fear. Jimmy Hart and the ugly Jasper were afraid of not only some of the men they met on this journey, but also afraid that Sage Lightfoot was no doubt, hot on their heels. That’s exactly what they wanted, yet she could feel their uncertainty, read the anxiety in their eyes. Once they reached their outlaw fortress, they would have their supreme vantage point, where they could lie in wait for their prey, and they were in a damn big hurry to get there. What they might do with her while they waited, Maggie didn’t want to think about.

  She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hang on to a desire to live. She’d been treated like baggage, tossed to the ground at night with nothing but one light blanket to stave off the cold. By contrast, the days were hot and dusty and windy. She was afforded little water and even less food. She’d hardened herself against the humiliation of relieving herself in front of the filthy men she hoped she’d never have to see alive again. She told herself that lifting her skirts in front of them was better than wetting herself and smelling like urine.

  She’d refused to cry, refused to scream, refused to beg, and she continued to believe there were good men out here who might help her. Through all the hard miles of riding, Jasper kept her in front of him on his horse, taking privileges with his hands on her body. She was glad that her head wound made her vomit, glad for the heat that made her perspire, and glad to add how bad she must smell by now. All of it kept both men at bay, along with the fact that they were too tired from the hard ride to force themselves on a sick woman who was a mess to boot. They kept her hands tied behind her back most of the time, and at night they tied her ankles. Escape was impossible. Even if she found a way out of this, where would she go in country like this? She’d die from exposure and the elements. How she’d kept from losing her baby she would never know, but one thing was certain. The life inside her belly was one strong little being.

  Her misery was made worse by the memory of hearing Kate’s skull crack and seeing the woman slump to the floor. Her own head injury caused her to black out at first, but she’d come around quick enough to realize she was being loaded onto Jasper’s horse. She was too dazed and weak to fight or scream, and for the rest of that night and part of the next morning, she’d moved in and out of consciousness.

  Was poor Kate dead? Sage would blame himself for this. Her worst fear was that for all she knew, Sage could be dead too. Maybe he’d found John Polk. Maybe Polk had shot him in the back. She’d heard Jimmy mention Polk a time or two. With every breath, she begged God to protect Sage, pleaded that he was still alive and coming for her. All that kept her from wanting to die was that hope. More than anything, she wanted to live just to see these two men die a horrible death at Sage’s hands. Any form of suffering on her part would be worth hearing Jasper and Jimmy Hart scream with pain and beg for their lives.

  She’d decided that until that time, she’d not speak one word. Keeping quiet seemed to make both men nervous, and the more nervous they were, the more likely they might get careless and let their guard down. She enjoyed their frustration over the fact that she wasn’t begging and pleading with them to let her go. She tried to think like Sage would think—studied the land, watched, listened, and avoided insanity by considering ways she could either escape or find a way to help Sage once he caught up. She took hope. Because of what these two did to Kate, Newell would come with Sage to find them.

  Newell wouldn’t be able to let this go any more than Sage would. That meant Sage would have help.

  She watched the landscape ahead and saw what looked like horses and cattle grazing—stolen stock grazed by outlaws, no doubt. Outlaws… many of who, oddly enough, had scruples when it came to how men like Jasper treated women. Jasper knew it, which was why he made sure she had no opportunity to speak to anyone. Some men
out here might have known Kate. They wouldn’t like knowing what Jimmy did to her.

  She told herself that this was not the time to crumple under terror and sickening memories, or to allow her bone-deep aches and weariness to cause her to lie down and never get up. She would not let her constant misery make her fold. She’d heard Sage brag about how strong she was, and that’s what she’d be, no matter what lay ahead.

  Jasper halted his horse and studied the camp in the distance. “Better keep avoiding others for now,” he told Jimmy. He gave Maggie a painful jerk that hurt her ribs. “If we do run into somebody with you close by, you’d better keep your mouth shut. You’re my woman. Got that?”

  Maggie continued her silence.

  Jasper squeezed again. “Answer me! I’m tired of you not talking! Answer me, or I’ll cut out your tongue so you’ll never talk again!”

  Maggie didn’t doubt he’d do it. “I’m your woman,” she said with obvious disgust.

  Jasper’s hand moved to her throat with a threatening squeeze. “That’s right. And your only chance of getting out of this is keepin’ quiet around others. Once we’re rid of Sage Lightfoot once and for all, we’ll turn you over to anybody here who wants you.”

  “Why didn’t you wait at Kate’s house and kill Sage when he got there?” Maggie decided that perhaps now was a good time to work on their nerves in another way—make them wonder if taking her was the worst mistake they’d ever made.

  Jasper chuckled. “That would be too easy. Lightfoot’s been doggin’ me for weeks. You think I didn’t know? I’m tired of it, and I’m pissed that he shot Cleve. Cleve was my cousin, and I want Lightfoot to suffer. I want him to come to me on a silver platter. Back in Lander he could have got help. Out here, it’s just him and me.”

  Maggie studied the men in the distance. “Is it? Sage has friends out here too, you know. You might not be as safe as you think you are. He used to ride this country—lived here. Kate Bassett was one of his best friends. He’s going to be furious, and you don’t want to deal with a furious Sage Lightfoot.”