“Don’t blame me for the way he turned out. I didn’t raise him.” Shannon rested her hand on her stomach, and to Gage it looked like she took a minute to pray for her little one. Or maybe to pray for herself that she’d be a better parent to this child than what she’d had. That shouldn’t be too hard.
“Gage, we’re easy pickings here. We need to slip up on him by surprise, and I don’t think we can do that in a group of five. There are three ways to Cudgel’s cabin from here—an uphill trail to the north, and two to the south. We have to cover all of them, because they all have good spots for a lookout and we can’t know where Cudgel might have posted them.”
“You mean if he posted them,” Bailey said. “Pa’s not usually that careful.”
“He’s not usually a cattle rustler, either,” Gage said.
Bailey nodded. “Good point.”
“The high trails are rugged, but they don’t fill in with snow like the gap Shannon and Bailey know.”
“I’ll go on the northern uphill side of the trail,” Sunrise said.
“Bailey and I’ll take this one, and you and Shannon can take the one to the south.”
“Be on the lookout, Ma, in case he’s got it set to spring another trap.”
“And don’t forget,” Gage said, “he’s got two extra men. Cudgel’s a yellow-bellied coyote, so he might not come right at you, but we don’t know a thing about the men he hired. They’re working the cattle well, so maybe they’re just regular cowpokes. Still, I wouldn’t trust them. So be looking for when the trail stretches below a likely spot for dry-gulching.”
“Bailey, if we’re trying to sneak in, it’s all the more reason to have only a few of us,” Gage said. He had to try one more time. “You should go back to the cabin and help Shannon. Let us handle this.”
“No,” Bailey broke in before Tucker could add his voice to Gage’s. “I’m coming with you. This is my pa and we’re after my cattle.”
“Bailey, I don’t—”
“She stays with you, Coulter,” Tucker cut him off. “We’re done wasting time arguing.”
“Thank you,” Bailey said, more sarcastically than was needed.
Tucker shook his head helplessly before turning back to Gage. “I know this land, and the first likely places for a lookout are still a ways ahead. But there’s a decent trail to the higher ground right here, and I want to get up there where I can see. Gage, there’s another one on ahead where a stream flows out of pure red rock.”
“I know the spot. I always remember water holes.” Gage wasn’t as good in these mountains as Tucker, but he’d ridden far and wide searching for good pastureland. That spring flowed year-round, but there was no grass, nothing but aspen growing out of rock for miles. “I’ll take it. Now let’s go, we’re burning daylight.”
Tucker smiled. “We’ll meet up at Cudgel’s cabin and ask dear old pa for a cup of coffee.”
“Nope, we’ll drag that polecat out of there and his men too if they fight us.”
Tucker looked at Shannon. “Are you sure you’re up to this? We’ll ride a ways, then be on foot. It’s rugged land.”
“I’ve . . . I’ve decided maybe I should go back,” she said.
“You have?” Gage wheeled his horse to face her.
Tucker said, “What’s wrong?”
“Are you all right, Shannon?” Bailey asked.
All three of them spoke at once and stared in shock at Shannon.
It wasn’t in these Wilde women to stay safe at home when there was trouble. Which meant . . .
“Tucker . . .” Shannon’s voice was deep and dark and sharp. The tone of it cut Gage to the bone.
Tucker reined his horse so close to Shannon they bumped knees.
“The baby’s coming.” Shannon hadn’t been praying for the baby; she’d been feeling a labor pain.
Which meant there was trouble, sure enough.
Tucker’s mouth opened and closed, then opened again. “I need to catch Ma.”
Shannon’s hand shot out to catch Gru’s reins. The feisty mare tolerated it, which was only right. Two females . . . no doubt they were in cahoots. “I need to get back to Bailey’s house. Now.”
“Let me get Ma. You’ll need her to help deliver the baby. Then we’ll—”
“Now! And we can’t take Ma, because Gage and Bailey will need her.”
Gage couldn’t believe he’d brought a pregnant woman to a gunfight. Surely that was such a big sin that it was written right down in the Bible somewhere. Probably in big letters. He wanted to ride off right now and tackle this whole mess alone. Him against three men, two probably hired guns. That sounded a lot better than staying here with a woman birthing a child.
Bailey grabbed his stallion’s reins.
“What?” He jumped, nervous as a cat. He glared at his wife, wondering what the Wilde women had against horses—always grabbing reins.
“You were getting ready to run,” she said.
He’d have denied it, but he’d sworn off lying . . . unless his ma really had him cornered.
Shannon said, “Tucker can handle this by himself.”
“This? Handle this? What exactly are you saying I can handle, Shannon?” Tucker sounded for all the world like a man who couldn’t handle anything.
“I want him with me,” Shannon said. “You go arrest Pa and stop by your cabin and introduce him to his grandchild on his way to jail.”
Tucker’s eyes got real wide. Gage had seen scared horses that looked a lot like Tucker did at the moment. He also might be in some pain, judging by the gritted teeth. Gage was pretty sure Shannon’s grip had gone straight through his buckskin coat to sink into his flesh.
In fact, Tucker looked as scared as Gage had ever seen him, which didn’t prove much because he’d never seen Tucker scared before. Even so, the man was scared out of his wits.
“We’ll do whatever you want, honey.” Tucker the Wild Man had turned into an obedient puppy dog.
Gage hadn’t seen that coming.
“Shannon,” Bailey said, sounding uncertain, “I don’t think it’s at all proper for a husband to attend to his wife while she’s giving birth.”
Tucker perked up at that, as if the man had one single shred of concern about being proper.
Bailey swallowed visibly. “I should come, too.”
“Go with Gage.” Deep and dark and sharp.
Bailey sat still as Shannon and Tucker rode off.
Then they looked at each other.
“I did pretty good with that foal.” Bailey sounded just the tiniest bit hurt.
“You might want to go,” Gage said. “Sunrise might want to go. I reckon whether he wants to or not, Tucker’s got to go. But I’d rather go on to this gunfight alone than help Shannon deliver that baby. In fact, I’d rather go fight the Civil War single-handedly than deliver that baby.”
Bailey nodded. “I said I should go, not that I wanted to.”
Gage found a moment of accord with his wife.
Then she said, “Tucker was going up. I’ll take that trail.”
“No, we’re staying together,” Gage said.
“You heard Tucker. These trails all lead to high spots, and any of them could have a sentry posted. We have to cover all the trails.”
“You’re not striking out into the wilderness alone with at least three gunmen out there.”
Bailey sat silently, staring at him.
Finally Gage asked, “What? I’m safer with you, too.”
“We’re going to do this right, Gage. We’re going to cover this land like we are supposed to, and get to my pa’s house alive and well.”
Gage looked at the narrow path Bailey planned on taking, disgusted that she wouldn’t let him protect her better. “You don’t trust me at all, do you?”
A furrow appeared between her brows. “I trust you more than any man alive, Gage.”
That sounded good, but since she trusted no man at all, she might only trust him the tiniest bit and he’d still be ahead of ev
eryone else.
“I never thought for a minute anyone was behind my cattle disappearing but Pa.”
“I don’t mean you think I’m a rustler; I mean you don’t trust me to protect you. You’re taking your own path, fighting this fight on your own, instead of staying with me to let me protect you. It wears on a man to have a woman wearing the pants in the family.”
Bailey looked down at her clothes.
With a snort of disgust, Gage said, “I’m not talking about your clothes. I’m talking about your attitude. I miss those britches, and I wouldn’t mind you wearing them anytime you wanted.”
“Except your ma wouldn’t like it.” Bailey sounded mighty unruly when she said that.
Gage wondered why. “Nope, she surely wouldn’t.”
Bailey closed her eyes. “I wonder just how long Ma is planning to stay.”
Gage wondered that many times a day. “Let’s ride.”
Gage rode straight for the spring Tucker mentioned and guided his horse up a steep, cracked spot in a high rock wall. This was the way they’d gotten the herd in. There were plenty of tracks left by the cattle, with the ground turning into a narrow passageway between two bluffs. Gage peered up at the top of the bluffs, expecting a shot to ring out any second.
His horse took a step onto sheer red rock, onto a ledge hardly wider than the horse’s hoof. Gage could see the cattle had passed this way. Bailey had kept mainly longhorns, good climbers and a fearless breed. So Gage didn’t hesitate to give his stallion his head. Besides, Gage had lived in these rugged mountains long enough to know a horse wouldn’t willingly continue on a path that went nowhere. If his stallion thought the trail was passable, it most likely was indeed.
He climbed in silence, save for the buffeting wind and the clopping of shod hooves on rock. His horse took a hairpin turn in the trail, and they walked along with rocks higher than his ears on both sides.
He had an itch between his shoulder blades and kept looking forward, back, and overhead.
The trail rose sharply and widened to reveal a small patch of grass. The cattle kept going from here, but it looked like the edge of the mountain was right ahead, where Gage would be able to see down into Cudgel’s valley. It was time to get mighty sneaky. Gage picketed his horse there and proceeded on foot.
He walked silently until he nearly reached the top. In fact, his head would have cleared the surrounding rock walls with one more step. Gage dragged his Stetson off his head and picked a spot where a few straggly junipers sheltered the top of the draw.
He inched his head up behind the pines until he spotted a man standing guard. Or rather sitting guard, with his gun leaned at his side.
Gage crouched low and silently drew his gun. He had to get the drop on this sentry, and the man looked to be loafing. He’d tie him up and go on toward Cudgel’s.
Gage hoped the man didn’t panic and start firing because Gage had never killed anyone and he didn’t want to start now.
28
Bailey left her mustang behind. She was in thick woods, walking a trail so faint it might’ve been her imagination.
The aspen had sheltered her as she climbed, but they’d given way to juniper and oak as the ground leveled out to a high mesa. She wound through the forest and the landscape took a downward slope.
That wasn’t right. She expected to get to a high spot where she could study the land for sentries. Instead, it looked to be leading her straight to Pa’s cabin. The trees started thinning, and in another few yards she’d be in a clearing at the top of a slope that would lead them into the valley Pa had homesteaded.
She moved to the last big tree before the woods mixed with thinner, younger growth and then aspens again. From where she stood, she could see Pa’s cabin, and though he didn’t have the best grass, his homestead could support a few head. Of course, he had the five or six cows he’d managed to gather since they’d moved in, and he had fifty head from Bailey. The spring grass was grazed thin.
He couldn’t keep her cattle. He planned to drive them to market. She took another step, almost out in the open, which wouldn’t matter up here, then stopped dead in her tracks.
A man stood watch off to her right, a good two hundred yards away, with a deep gully between them. He was facing the trail they’d have been on if they hadn’t split up.
Gage should be on that side of the hill, but then her trail had taken her in unexpected ways. Maybe Gage’s had, too. But there should be two of them. And Pa could be out here standing watch, too.
A movement wrangled a smile out of her. Behind the guard about thirty feet away.
Gage.
She had an angle on the man that showed Gage crawling forward behind a wall of rock.
Her husband was going to take care of the guard. She wanted to see it, but the trees blocked part of her view. She needed a better angle. Then one step farther and she sheered away and dropped to the ground, silent as a ghost.
She’d found the second watchman. All she could see was the muzzle of a rifle and nothing else.
And just as she had a good angle on Gage, so did he. His gun was rising, aiming straight at her husband. With no time to slip around, she moved toward that stretch of fire iron.
Seconds ticked loud in her head as she crawled forward, trying to be silent but with not a second to spare.
Any noise from her might warn him. She had her gun out and ready. Though she wanted a sneak attack, if she didn’t have time, she prayed the man would hear her and turn away from Gage, even if it meant drawing his gun on her.
Gage surged to his feet.
“Get your hands in the air.” Gage’s ice-cold voice sliced through the mountain air.
The man jerked to his feet, his gun falling sideways. His hands slowly rose as if he was afraid of doing anything suddenly and maybe making a nervous gunman flinch.
Gage leapt out of the cut he’d climbed in and rushed the man. There was no time to do anything else, even though he’d never found the second man and now he was completely exposed.
Bailey rounded the tree, coming at the lookout from behind, and brought her gun down with all her strength on the man’s head. She reached around him and snatched the gun out of his slack fingers before a twitch could trigger it. The man fell forward, facedown.
The noise drew Gage’s attention for one brief second, yet that was all the man needed to dive behind the boulder he’d been using as a chair. He brought his gun up and fired without exposing his head.
Bailey had no way to cross that gully.
“Stay down!” Gage was already moving, running to the side to get out of the path of gunfire. When the lead started flying, Gage dove flat on his belly.
The man shifted his gun, following the sound of Gage’s running feet. Which brought the bullets in Bailey’s direction, because her foolish, heroic husband was trying to get between her and that gun.
She’d only get in his way if she came out from cover, so Bailey ducked just as bullets struck the rock right overhead.
She took a long, hard breath, peeked out to see Gage crawling around the rock out of the line of fire. She aimed, knowing this was a shot she had to get right. Her gun blasted, and the men ducked. That gave Gage some cover from the flying bullets.
The man quit shooting at Gage and turned his gun on her. She jumped behind a tree and heard the bark explode only inches away. Seconds later, the shooting stopped. The silence was so profound, it echoed in Bailey’s ears. Hesitating to come out, she listened, hoping and praying Gage was all right.
“You can come out now, Bailey. I’ve got him.” Gage’s voice. “Thanks.”
He was alive. She let out a breath of relief and said, “I’ve got one over here, too.”
Gage turned and waved at her. “You saved me, Mrs. Coulter.” He smiled so wide she could see it all the way across the gully.
“And you saved me, Mr. Coulter.” She really had married a mighty good man . . . with a troublesome mother.
“The gully’s too deep to cross,”
Bailey called out. “I’ll meet you at the bottom of the mesa.”
“Let’s tie ’em up tight, then head for your pa’s place.” He looked back at the man he’d caught, and his expression went from satisfaction to fury. “I know who this is. Do you recognize yours?”
Looking at the man she’d knocked cold, she shook her head. “I don’t, but then I’ve been mostly hiding from people since I moved out here.”
“Well, mine is Gus Fowler. He’s Rance Boyle’s ranch foreman.”
“So Boyle is in this with Pa?” Pa didn’t cooperate with anyone all that well.
“I thought we only had one cantankerous old man to deal with, and his two hired men. But if Boyle’s involved too, we might keep meeting men ready to shoot us all day long.”
Shaking his head in disgust, Gage said, “It’s time to find out what part Cudgel even has in this thing. Maybe we’ve been wrong about him right from the start. He’s an old hermit. Maybe he doesn’t know who it is he hired.”
Bailey shook her head. “Pa’s tracks were in my canyon, and he drove the herd here. He’s in it deep enough to have stolen my cattle.”
“Whatever part he’s played in it, your pa is the least of our worries.”
She studied the gully between them. Even on closer inspection, Bailey saw no way across it.
“Don’t forget, there might be more than these two men keeping watch.”
“I won’t forget. See you at the bottom, Gage.” She headed for the trail that led down to Pa’s valley.
29
They reached the bottom, and Gage itched to ride over to Cudgel’s cabin and give the man a thrashing, just for the hurt he’d seen on Bailey’s face.
He met up with Bailey after a long, treacherous ride.
But if Boyle was involved, there might be more trouble ahead. “I’d hoped there’d be a couple of horses here. We’ve got some open space to cover to get to your pa’s place. We’ll be exposed the whole time.”
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