Clint and Lynx challenged each other with their combative gazes. Clint wavered in doubt, then scoffed, “You’re married. You wouldn’t join the Rangers with a wife like that at home. You’re lying.”
“Will you relax a minute while I prove it?” Lynx asked.
“How?” Clint skeptically queried.
“Like this,” Lynx replied negligently, lifting his boot and swiftly digging his spur into the leather of Clint’s saddle. “Recognize that?”
Clint gaped at the tiny depression in the shape of a star, then lifted his apprehensive gaze to the impassive face of Lynx Cardone. “You?” Clint hinted incredulously.
“Me,” Lynx answered nonchalantly, not a tiny trace of dishonesty or fear on his face. “What’s it to be, Deavers?”
Clint glanced from the imprint of the star to the confident look on Lynx’s face. He hesitated in doubt. Lynx was fast and accurate, and the Unknown Ranger was untouchable in courage and daring.
“You’ve got ten seconds to dismount or ride off,” Lynx stated.
Clint wiped the moisture from the corners of his mouth as he assessed the situation. Salina was bending over her saddle, weeping. Her gun was on the ground; no help to him. Could he take this man who was two daring men in one? His irrational pride mocked him.
“I don’t want no trouble with Rangers. Another day?”
“Another day,” Lynx calmly accepted, wary of this man.
Clint reached over and took Salina’s reins. He glared at Lynx, then headed past him. “Count on it, Cardone,” he sneered.
Lynx didn’t move a muscle, but watched the man closely. Clint spurred his horse and rode off, pulling Salina’s along with him. Lynx nudged Star in the ribs to move out, his keen instincts alive.
The moment Clint halted and yanked his Winchester from his saddle to back-shoot Lynx, the intrepid Ranger went into lightning action. In one graceful movement, Lynx had whirled and drawn his Colt and fired at Clint’s left shoulder. The rifle flew to the ground as Clint yelped in pain, the bullet lodging beneath his shoulder blade. Even at that distance, Lynx was accurate.
“Another day, Deavers!” he shouted, then prodded Star into a fast run. Wounded, Deavers would be forced to head for Jacksboro. When Lynx had time, he would wire the Ranger there to arrest him and Salina for their crimes. In their condition, they wouldn’t get far. When he returned home, Lynx would deal with Manuel. Besides being Calinda’s attacker, he was doubtlessly the rustlers’ informant.
Lynx’s eyes flickered to the sun’s angle. He ranted at the loss of time; it was nearing five o’clock and he had a lengthy distance to cover before darkness. Soon, he would be forced to slow his pace to search the sides of the trail. Lynx didn’t want to ride past her!
Ten miles southward, Calinda was stirring for the first time since early afternoon. Her hand went to her forehead as she mechanically mopped the beads of perspiration from it. She inhaled and exhaled deeply as she tried to clear her senses. When her eyes opened, there was a roughly dressed man hunkered down beside her. She caught her breath in panic and surprise. Her eyes darted around, assessing her location and situation. Her hand eased down to her waist, finding her gunbelt missing. She tensed in panic.
Billy noted each of her actions and expressions. She was a feisty little beauty. “Good morning. Or is it good afternoon?” he playfully murmured, caressing his knobby chin with his left hand.
“Who are you? What happened?” Cal asked shakily.
“Don’t know what happened, little lady, but I’m called Billy,” he smugly announced, sitting down beside her.
Calinda struggled to sit up, but her head swam. “Best lie down a while, Ma’am. You don’t look so good,” Billy advised.
“May I have some water?” she asked politely, amusing him.
He handed her the canteen and helped her rise to drink. As she relaxed with her head against his saddle, she asked, “Where am I?”
“Just south of Jacksboro. Where you heading alone and in this sorry shape?” he asked, intrigued and stimulated.
“I was meeting my husband there, but I became ill. I guess I’m lost,” she responded cautiously, slyly.
“No ring on your finger,” Billy informed her.
“I lost it. He’s buying me another one. May I have some more water? I must have a fever. I’m so thirsty,” she told him to stall for time to think and plan.
“A good shot of Irish whiskey will do more for you,” he offered.
“No thank you. I don’t partake of strong spirits,” she alleged.
“What do you partake of, Ma’am?” he asked alarmingly.
“I beg your pardon?” Cal replied, trying to disarm him with manners and innocence.
“Got me a real lady on my hands,” he congratulated himself aloud. “What about that? Billy the Kid with a lady, imagine that.”
Billy was slightly miffed when she failed to recognize his notorious name and the reputation that went along with it. He had expected to strike terror into her heart with it. “What should I do with you?” he asked absently, running his fingers through his shaggy hair.
“Do you live around here? Will your family help me get home?”
Chilling laughter came forth from this belligerent man. “Nope!”
“You don’t live around here, or they won’t help me?” she asked softly, as if for clarity, but actually for time.
“I don’t live anywhere, and I ain’t got no family,” he declared.
“Then I must head for Jacksboro before night comes,” she stated, glancing at the enclosing shadows. “If my husband isn’t there or searching for me, I’ll stay in the hotel.”
“That ain’t a good idea, Ma’am,” Billy murmured.
“Why not?” Cal asked, focusing trusting eyes on him.
“Lots of reasons,” Billy replied, eyeing her strangely.
“Such as?” she continued this desperate talk which prevented any actions for the present. What to do? she fretted mentally. She had to get away from this leering man, but how? She wisely realized she musn’t offend him. She must portray the distressed lady perfectly, and hopefully play on any chords of decency at the same time. Cal noticed her missing boots and jacket; worse, she was aware her shirt was opened to the cleft between her breasts. Obviously, Billy had discovered the money in her boot and shirt pocket, but what more did he want from her?
“Such as, that’s a dangerous town for a lady alone. Such as, you ain’t strong enough to ride that far. Such as, I don’t want you to leave,” he added the reason which struck terror into her heart.
“You needn’t worry, Mister Billy, I’ll be fine,” Cal tried to sound light and brave. “My husband taught me how to shoot. I appreciate what you did for me. If you’ll give me your address, I’ll see you’re paid for your trouble and kindness. Where’s my gun?”
“Over there,” he told her, pointing to where it lay near her saddle. “But you won’t be needing it. I’ll take care of you.”
“That’s nice of you, sir, but I’m feeling some better now. I should be heading out,” she remarked, attempting to rise.
Billy warned, “Stay put,” then placed his hand against her injured shoulder to push her down. Cal screamed in pain and went white. Billy came to full alert as she cradled her left arm and tears spilled forth. He confined her wrists in one hand and pulled the shirt aside to check her baffling action. She was inhaling raggedly; her eyes squeezed tightly as she endured the agony which knifed her body.
He stared at the astonishing area, then gaped at her tormented expression. “That’s a gunshot,” he stated in wonder.
“Get your hands off me,” she commanded faintly, grimacing.
“People don’t order Billy Bonnet around,” he snapped at her. “What’s you name?” he demanded forcefully.
“You arrogant brute! Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m hurt and sick?” she panted breathlessly.
“Don’t pain me none,” Billy retorted as if utterly insensitive.
“Please, Mister Bonnet,” Cal e
ntreated softly.
“Please, what?” Billy taunted, his mood becoming larkish.
“Please take your filthy hands off my wife before I put a slug in your miserable hide,” Lynx warned icily from behind him. Billy the Kid! His blood ran cold. He’d need all his skill to get Cal safe this time.
Billy flung himself to his back, ready to snatch his gun from its holster. He halted that reflex as he eyed the barrels of two ivory-handled Colts pointing down at him. On the shirt pocket of this audacious man was a shiny Ranger star. On the towering man’s face was an expression of coldness and determination.
“Lynx,” the name slipped from Cal’s dry lips as her astonished gaze glued to his stern face. Lynx didn’t look at her, keeping his gaze glued on the pugnacious outlaw. She sensed the gravity of this moment and fell silent to avoid distracting him. Her heart surged with relief and love. Again, Lynx was at her side when danger struck; and this time, Cal knew positively he wasn’t behind this new peril. But how did he get that Ranger star? Had his friend Jones let him borrow it to help him out in just this kind of situation? No, she thought, he probably stole it and if it’ll scare Billy I’m glad he did!
Billy insouciantly reclined on his back, propping up his lean torso with his flexed elbows. He grinned conceitedly. “Surely there’s only one man with a crazy name like that,” Billy murmured. “Didn’t know you were a Ranger, Cardone. I ain’t committed no crimes in Texas. What’s your beef with me?”
“None today, Billy, if you release my wife,” Lynx played along with Billy’s deceptively genial mood.
Both men appeared to be complaisant and even-tempered, but were cunningly ready to spring into action. It was a ploy of the best gunmen; throw your opponent off with a slack body and placid manner. Each man was aware of the latent force behind the other.
Billy didn’t fear any man, not even one behind a badge. Neither was afraid to die; but it was a part of life somewhere down the trail. He was acquainted with the reputation and might behind the man called Lynx Cardone. Billy never doubted he was faster than Lynx, but he pondered if this situation was worth the trouble. Having incompetent sheriffs after you was one thing, but enticing the Rangers to hotly and rashly pursue you was another. But who would know what happened out here? Unless he boasted of having Cardone’s notch on his gun. But why kill a famous man if you couldn’t take credit for it?
“How’s the shoulder, love?” Lynx inquired, cunningly lacing his words with tenderness, revealing an emotion which was lethal to challenge. Yet, his pleasant gaze remained on the smiling Billy.
“Terrible. What took you so long to find me?” Cal asked, taking his unspoken clue and using it. “I fainted on the trail and Billy found me. Up to now he’s been a perfect gentleman.” She wondered if Lynx would use the same ploy on Billy which had worked on Clint, or was he planning to use that stolen Ranger badge to win this battle?
“You do have an infuriating way of getting into mischief, woman. When I get you home, I plan to tan the seat of your britches. Father’s out of his mind with worry. We’ve got Rangers everywhere looking for you,” Lynx gently scolded her. “You sure you’re alright?”
Calinda played along with his deceit, amazed by the realization that they often communicated without words or with sly ones. Acting the contrite wife, she lowered her head and murmured, “I’m sorry, Lynx. If you’d stay home, I wouldn’t get crazy and come looking for you.”
“Is that a promise or a threat?” Lynx teased her, using their playful banter to mellow the wary outlaw.
“Both,” she stated petulantly. Now that he was here with her, she wasn’t afraid of anything, even confronting the past with him. She wondered if Lynx would get into legal trouble for posing as a Ranger.
“Well, Billy, do we call a truce and go our separate ways; or do we battle over my wife? You and I have no quarrel. I just want Cal.”
Well aware of Lynx’s reputation for fairness and extreme prowess, Billy mused on his decision. His gaze flickered over to the injured beauty. She was too pretty and spunky to die. And she would die if he killed her husband, for she would fight him to the death. Perhaps another day he would challenge this man to a duel. This wasn’t the time or place, for his mind wasn’t into killing either of them. The spark of love between them tugged strangely at his heart.
Calinda cringed in fear as she awaited the outlaw’s choice of behavior. “Please, Billy, don’t fight him. I don’t want him to kill you any more than I want you to slay him. I love him and need him.”
Lynx was moved by her words. “Can you ride, Cal?” he asked.
“I’m feeling better; I think so,” she answered him.
“Take Star and ride out,” Lynx commanded tenderly.
“What about you?” she worried anxiously.
“If Billy insists, we’ll handle our business after you go. Leave now,” he ordered again. “I’ll bring your horse.”
Calinda didn’t move. She merely stared at her husband. He wanted her away safely, even at the cost of his own life. How could he make such a sacrifice if he didn’t truly love her? She wanted to run into his arms and beg for his forgiveness. The dire circumstances prevented it. What if Lynx was killed or wounded?
“Move, Cal,” he warned sternly. “I’ve had enough of your defiance. We wouldn’t be here if you had stayed home where you belong.”
“That won’t be necessary, Cardone. You have my word you two can ride out together,” Billy suddenly announced, grinning.
Lynx eyed him intently. His guns remained where they were and his gaze continued to study this imposing rival. Years of training and experience took command of his senses. Lynx had played similar scenes many times. Rarely had he misread a man’s intentions or honesty. He smiled and nodded, slipping his Colts into their holsters, to her shock.
Calinda was frozen in mid-step. She couldn’t believe what Lynx was doing. He was actually putting away his weapons and turning his back on this truculent man. He calmly saddled her horse and called her over. She couldn’t budge, her lips parted and her eyes wide.
“Callie, let’s go home,” Lynx coaxed indulgently.
Calinda shook her head, then gaped at both men. “Billy gave his word; that’s good enough for me. Let’s ride, woman. I’m hot and tired and mean-spirited right now. I’ve been dogging you for days. If you ever pull another stunt like this, I’ll thrash you soundly.”
Lynx trusted this outlaw? What kind of western code of honor was this?
“Cal!” Lynx stormed, breaking her trancy state and propelling her forward with his potent tone.
Lynx helped her to her mount, then told her to head out before him. Confused and alarmed, Cal did as told and waited near the edge of the worn trail. Though it seemed hours, it was only minutes before he joined her. Unaware of holding her breath in tension, she slowly released it when he was beside her. She wondered what the two men had said to each other after her departure. She looked over at the thicket. Billy was leaning against a slender tree watching them, a wide grin on his nicely featured face. Billy waved to her, then chuckled before disappearing into the thicket.
“Lynx,” she began softly, but was cut off instantly.
“Shut up and ride, woman, before Billy changes his mind. We’ll talk later. Right now, I’m not in the mood to hear anything but hooves.”
Stunned, she stared at him. Lynx slapped her horse’s rump to send him running forward. Cal lurched in the saddle and caught her balance. She promptly reined up and snapped at him, “Don’t you dare order me about! I don’t care to talk to you now or later! You go your way and I’ll go mine. But thanks for another of your timely rescues.”
Lynx’s attempt to give her strength through anger and fear backfired on him. “Woman, if you don’t get moving, I’ll spank you right here. I want some distance between us and Billy. Do you know who that man was?” he asked. He hastily enlightened her on the lethal and infamous Billy the Kid. “I trust him to keep his word for the moment. But I don’t plan to give him time to cha
nge his mind. You damn fool, don’t you realize how weak you are? We’ll be doing good to make five miles without stopping. Not that it matters to you, but he’s probably faster and better with a gun than I am. If you don’t want to be returned to him, stop stalling with this foolishness or you just might find Billy again,” he warned.
“You think he’ll come after us?” she asked fearfully.
“Wouldn’t surprise me none. Now, get moving before I lose my temper. Anything else you want to know can wait until later.”
“Have you been home yet?” she asked in dread.
Lynx drilled his volatile gaze into her nervous one, suddenly and irrationally furious and impatient with her, harsh emotions born of tension and relief. “No, I didn’t have time. Rankin met me at the train Tuesday. I’ve been after you since then.”
“I see,” she murmured, pondering his radical change in mood.
“No, Callie, you don’t see anything yet. But you will,” he vowed sullenly. Lynx seized her bridle and headed off at a gallop.
Calinda had no choice but to hang on tightly and to weather the storm before her.
Chapter Twenty-six
Except for the incessant pounding of the horses’ hooves, Lynx and Cal rode in strained silence for a lengthy time, each trying to master their warring emotions. Following their initial brisk run to put distance between them and the notorious outlaw, Lynx set their rate of movement at a steadfast pace: inflexible, resolute, and indisputable. He rode slightly ahead of her, never glancing backwards.
Peeved by his harshness, Cal followed in rigid disquiet. A flurry of conflicting thoughts and emotions filled her. She knew he was serious about that criminal behind them. Yet, her fears had dissipated, allowing resentment and puzzlement to flood her mind. Lynx was behaving as if she were at terrible fault! He knew the truth, both sides, but was holding his tongue for now. What will he say later when we stop? He’s returning me to the ranch, but why? What don’t I see? She eagerly anticipated, yet dreaded, their imminent discussion.
Cal observed the assertive and moody man before her. In Billy’s camp, Lynx had evinced a courage and cunning which amazed her. Did the man lack all traces of fear and hesitation? He was so dashing, intelligent, and daring. When he had joined her afterwards, she had absently noticed a quivering tic in his darkly stubbled jawline, the unnatural anxiety in his gaze, and the glacial edge to his stirring voice. Mingling with that novel tension, fury had danced wildly and brightly in his tawny eyes. Even now, his tightly leashed anger could be detected in his taut body as it swayed rhythmically with the motion of his mottled steed. His vexation was like a tangible object.
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