By now it was dusk and Annabelle couldn’t really assess her wounds. Her leg was burning and when she touched the spot it felt warm and sticky, she was bleeding again. There wasn’t much she could do here, and she was too afraid the animal would return. Speaking softly to the horse she stumbled her way over and retrieved the reins which were dangling to the ground. The horse was still a bit spooked, but Annabelle managed to mount her and leaned her into a trot.
As they rode, Annabelle continued to look over her shoulder until the camp, and the lion, were well out of sight. From now on she would not ride without a gun. It was useless to think about that now, though, instead she needed to see just how bad of shape she was in. In the minimal light that was available, she could see cuts and scrapes on her palms and up her arms. The shirt was damp in places and she knew she was bleeding, hopefully it would stop on its own; she pressed her hands down on her pant leg, avoiding the pain in her thigh. She wasn’t in the best of shape, but she would survive.
They did their best to stay near enough to the stream to see it, but on open enough ground that it would be nearly impossible to be ambushed. Annabelle dozed in and out, some from sleep and some from pain. Most of her wounds had stopped bleeding, but the bruises were nearly as bad. Her leg, on the other hand, was more painful than she ever remembered. Of course there wasn’t much to remember about; right after the shot, she had passed out from loss of blood and Logan had managed to get her home quickly. Now she was alone in the dark wilderness and she needed to be her own hero. Every now and again when she adjusted her seating, the pain would shoot up her leg and into her brain, jerking her awake. It was going to be a long night.
Somewhere around dawn she was sure she heard the sound of hooves echoing off the valley walls. Straining her eyes in the dark she looked around but saw nothing. Surely she must be close to town. Adjusting for what seemed like the hundredth time she clenched her teeth against the pain which racked her body. Everything hurt and her mind felt foggy. She wasn’t quite sure but she thought maybe her wound was still seeping blood. Throughout the night she had continued to drink from her water skin and it was nearly empty, but she had hardly touched the food, her stomach was too tied up to be able to eat.
Leading the horse down off the little ridge she was riding on, she thought she caught a glimpse of something. Annabelle looked around to see if maybe her eyes were playing tricks, but up ahead there was an animal. To her surprise it was a horse. Next a whiff of smoke appeared, and next to it on the ground was a person wrapped in a blanket. Who was it and what were they doing out here? Her first instinct was to rush forward and see who it was, but then she wondered what someone might do to her if they knew she was alone and hurt. Instead she walked her horse to a patch of scrub brush and dismounted, stifling a cry of pain. It was almost more painful to sit on the ground than up on the horse. Pulling her arms into her shirt she hugged herself for warmth and then waited. Soon she would know if it was safe to approach, if not she would mount and run.
Chapter 17
Logan watched as the haze lifted over the town of Regency. It hadn’t changed much from what he could tell; the river still ran lazily between it and Mr. Sevier’s expansive ranch. Not much had happened in the past several hours since he had set up camp. He was hidden well in a group of rocks which sat atop a small ridge that faced the town. The buildings themselves were on the flat plain by the river and Mr. Sevier’s ranch spread out and around the whole area. It was more his town than the people’s, but it was thriving and that was more than some towns could say.
He had tried to rest, but his mind ran with all manner of things. He wondered if Kit had found Annabelle’s family, he wondered what Mr. Sevier was doing, and how he would react to seeing Logan. But most of all, he wondered about Annabelle. There was hope for them now; if her family could be safe in Hope then she would not have to leave, they could marry and start a family. And if he succeeded today, then they would never want for anything again. Of course…if he didn’t… Pushing those thoughts from his mind he set about checking his weapon. He had one Hawken Rifle and a Colt Revolver with him. Everything seemed to be in order and he put them back in their holsters. The Colt was then buckled around his waist in the leather holster he had made. He adjusted to the extra weight and then touched it with his hand to make sure it was placed properly. There was nothing more to do than wait.
Logan had gotten a lot better with a gun in recent years. One time he was taken by surprise and still had the scar to prove it; since then he rarely went anywhere without his pistol and he practiced as much as possible with it. It was never a favorable memory, but it reminded him if he was ever in that situation again, the other guy would die. Even with some solid conviction in his breast he could feel the rapid beating of his heart and he tried to calm himself down, it did nothing for him to get all worked up. It would end how it would end, and no amount of thinking about it would change it.
He had made a stop at the local pub late last night. No one knew who he was so he felt comfortable asking a few questions. Drunk men made for loose lips and he had found out a few interesting things. Mr. Sevier was planning a trip into town the next day. It was always an anticipated event, except that for him to go to town it only consisted of crossing Sage Creek. Logan knew Mr. Sevier was a man who stayed to himself, so something must be going on. Upon further questioning he found out the man was seeking help for a packing trip. Logan wondered suspiciously if it was to search out him, or more appropriately, Annabelle. Robert Sevier must be in a fix not having something he wanted, even if it was a woman. Not this time though, thought Logan, this time he would not get what he wanted. For once in Logan’s life he wanted to give that man something he didn’t want, a bullet wound.
The memory of it made his left shoulder tingle and he massaged it waiting for the sensation to go away. Memories of that night flooded over him and he could still see the shadowy figure in the rain; his blue eyes boring into Logan’s with anger, frustration, and disappointment. No matter how much Logan told himself it didn’t matter what Sevier thought, it really did. Then with eyes wide with horror Logan watched him draw the gun and fire. The red hot metal ripped through the skin and muscle, and finally imbedded itself into his shoulder bone, throwing him backwards onto the muddy ground. One last look from that man and he wrote Logan out of his life, again. Hurt and anger rose in Logan’s chest and he growled at the little town lying beneath him. Vengeance would be bittersweet. Resting again against the boulder he closed his eyes and waited, noon would come soon enough; he didn’t need to fret about it.
Robert Sevier sat at his desk, his fingertips together, a wicked smile across his face. The bait had been set and soon he would come face to face with the man who had caused him so much trouble. The girl would be back and he would again have all the things he wanted, minus one obnoxious troublemaker. He looked down at the beautiful black Remington single-action six shot which rested on the wooden desktop. It was new, out within the last few weeks. Of course, he had one ordered long before they were available to the general public. Running his fingers over the smooth wooden handle he clutched it in his hand and pointed it at the door. Perfect aim and a good eye made the weapon one of the deadliest around. It would take no time at all to dispatch his most recent opponent.
In the sight of his pistol he pictured the men who had lost their lives by his hand. Most of them died from the elements, others from a misplaced bullet, but a handful of them died right there as he watched. Robert had learned early in his life that some things are worth taking, even at the cost of a man’s life. After all, life was hard and cruel and left you wondering why; so life wasn’t fair, so what? One face lingered longer than the others, but just for a moment. Perhaps the hardest kill he had ever made, only because it was like killing a little bit of himself. He sneered at the idea and pushed it away, the boy would have survived if he had been anything like Robert. The thought seemed to ease the tension he felt, and he smiled again picturing the yet unknown victim who wo
uld fall by this weapon today.
Before placing it down again on the desk he checked it for the fifth time. Everything was set and ready to go. Standing he slung it into the black leather holster which was heavily decorated with ornate leather carvings. Then opening the drawer to his right he lifted the gold star from its black satin cushion and placed it on his breast. There were a few perks that came with being the founder of the town, and anyone in their right mind didn’t try to argue the matter. Next he took out a single sheet of paper and looked over the text one last time. He would probably not have been so hasty, but it didn’t matter, he would be victorious today. Folding it precisely into three he removed an envelope and tucked the document firmly into the pocket. Then he sealed it and wrote a name on the front. Laying it face up on the desk, he sauntered over and, looking at himself in the mirror, appraised his appearance. Perfect. Then he chuckled, obviously whoever was opposing him now was not in his right mind. Winking one striking blue eye at his reflection, he opened the door and walked confidently out.
Mr. Mousse was waiting out front with the horses. His mustache twitched nervously and his eyes searched the face of his boss. All was going according to plan, but he didn’t like the waiting, he would feel much more at ease when the whole thing was over and done with. He held the reins while Sevier swung his leg over the back of his snow white horse and settled himself. Passing off the leather straps, he climbed up in the black carriage Annabelle Casey would ride back to the ranch in. Again, it bothered him that Mr. Sevier was going to so much trouble for a girl, but it wasn’t his choice to make. However, he never minded the killer instinct the man had when he was hunting something he wanted. In that way his boss was so opposite of himself; it had become enjoyable to live vicariously through the man, keeping a safe distance from the danger.
Sevier evened his stallion with the buggy and spoke. “Is everything set?”
“Reports have it he’s in town now and is looking for a fight.”
“Who all knows?”
“Just the four guys from the bar, you, and me.”
“Good, keep it that way.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” Then he slapped the long straps down the back of the single horse and the buggy jumped forward.
Mr. Sevier loped ahead and made his way down the long drive toward the bridge and into the town of Regency. Along with his precious new firearm, Mr. Robert Sevier was dressed to kill. Even at the age of fifty-five he was handsome and well-built. His blond hair showed no signs of gray and his blue eyes were striking. His suit was tailored and made from the finest fabric found and its dark black sheen caught the afternoon sun, giving him a sense of glowing. His boots were black and high cut, just below his knee. The white shirt he had on was pressed perfectly and his tie tied with precision. A black felt hat topped him off with a snakeskin band and eagle feather. He was a sight to behold and he hoped it would impress his arriving bride. Today would be the day he finally had it all.
The town residents were out in full now that the morning fog had lifted and the sun had warmed the earth. It was cool for the end of February but not cool enough to warrant a heavy jacket. Women lined the streets in their calico dresses and bonnets dragging naughty children into stores and to do other errands. The few men in town were dressed nicely and hung around the door to the bank or restaurant which was below the town’s hotel. A few stragglers stumbled in and around the bar, but they went mostly unnoticed until one of them caused a big enough scene to be thrown in the local jail. All in all it was a perfectly calm spring afternoon.
A few heads turned and watched the noble white steed and his rider enter town. Others ducked into a store or walked away. It was no secret that only a handful of the residents found the man the least bit interesting, but most kept their mouth shut and took the jobs the town had for them. The group of men at the bank, however, raised their hands in a wave as Mr. Sevier dismounted at the front door and tied up his horse. Shaking hands all around he looked over his shoulder at Mr. Mousse; the shriveled man nodded and kept his place in the buggy. The bank men and Sevier disappeared from view, walking into the bank. After nearly a half an hour they emerged again and another round of handshakes were given. Robert Sevier then left his horse and walked down the boardwalk toward the bar. He motioned Mousse to follow and he waited at the door while the buggy was tied off and the little man could join him. It was time for a drink, and then they would wait.
Logan checked the camp site again, giving the fire pit an extra kick of dirt. In this dry time of year a fire could spread like locusts, killing everything in its path. No matter what animosity Logan held toward Mr. Sevier, the town deserved no such destruction. There was nothing left to do now but ride into town. The sun was at its peak in the sky and no amount of waiting around would change the fact it was time to face reality. Throwing one leg over his horse, Logan eased carelessly into the saddle and turned the head of his pony toward town. Pursing his lips he whistled a tune, the bittersweet notes of Streets of Laredo drifted into the air. Logan was riding to his destiny, and who knew how it would end?
Chapter 18
Annabelle had only to wait ten minutes before the sleeping form shifted and rose. Straining against the morning light she tried to make out the face of the tall cowboy. Then to her stunned amazement, she realized she knew who it was. Watching breathlessly for a moment longer, the man turned in her direction and she was absolutely certain it was so. Pushing herself up from her hiding spot, she caught the man by surprise and he reached for his pistol lying on a stump near his bedroll. Annabelle limped from behind the rocks and stood facing the man, then unable to contain herself any longer, she let the squeal of excitement slip from her lips, and then she stumbled towards the equally shocked man.
It only took a few seconds and then the cowboy was running towards her. He scooped her up in his arms and spun her around as she laughed and cried into his shirt. Finally he held her back and looked into her worn face.
“Annabelle, what are you doing out here?”
It sounded like heaven to hear her brother’s voice again. It was Jace, her oldest brother, right here in front of her. She could hardly believe it and all words were lost. There was so much to tell him, but her mind couldn’t comprehend he was really in front of her. Next to Logan, he was the only person she could have hoped for.
He looked her over and his face went from happiness to concern. Putting her on the ground he watched her as she settled onto her good leg.
“Annie, are you well?”
She nodded, wiping away her tears; he was a blessing in disguise.
“Why aren’t you with Mr. Sevier? Why are you hurt? Tell me everything.”
Nodding, she leaned against him for support and they made their way back for her horse who stood patiently waiting for her. There wasn’t much time, but Annabelle was glad to be near someone who loved her so much.
“Jace, so much has happened and I will tell you but we have to be going soon.”
He looked at her confused and helped her down on the log near his still-smoldering campfire.
“I don’t understand, Annie, where do we need to go?”
“To Regency, we need to stop Mr. Sevier from hurting Logan.”
It didn’t dawn on her that Jace had no idea what she was talking about. All she could think about now was that her family must be safe because Jace was here with her, and now she had help. With his help they might be able to fix everything.
“Who is Logan?”
“The man who kidnapped me.”
Jace’s eyes widened in surprise and he quickly knelt in front of her taking her by the hands. He noticed the cuts and the dried blood on her pants. She was in pretty bad shape and now she was talking all crazy. He was truly worried about her and needed to get some answers before he decided what would be the best for her. Calmly, he looked into her the eyes drawing all her attention to him. “Annie, honey, I don’t understand what you are talkin’ about. You’re in pretty bad shape, are you sure you
are feelin' all right?”
She smiled wearily at him, she must sound a little touched indeed. Drawing a deep breath she relayed her story as thoroughly and quickly as possible. First she explained the stage- coach chase and she touched her head where the now healing bruise was. Next she told him about the night in camp and talking with Logan the first time. She left out the part in the bathtub, unsure how an older brother would react to a man seeing his sister in nothing but a flimsy petticoat. Then she told him about the town of Hope and Mama, Kit, Singing Bird and Little Bear. There was so much to tell him about Logan and she did her best to paint a more positive picture of him than she had when she first met the man. Even hearing herself talk about him she could hear the love she had for him in her voice. She was unsure if Jace had heard, but it didn’t matter. Finally she came to the part when Mr. Sevier’s own men shot her and Logan saved her life with the help of all the new friends in Hope. The only thing left was her departure and encounter with the mountain lion, but all this talk about Logan was making her anxious so she left out a lot of the last twenty-four hours. Finally she was done.
Jace sat in stunned silence taking in the whole tale. Finally when she was done he sat back on his feet and pondered it for a moment. If everything Annabelle was saying was true then they really did need to hurry. He licked his lips and stood, setting his hat on his head and looking out across the plain toward the town of Regency. So much of her story matched what he had seen, the coach was still wrecked in its spot and he had traced the hoof tracks up to the river. That was how he managed to get where he was at, he hoped that he could follow them into town and to Annabelle who had failed to send her family any message of her arrival. Now it all made sense, but things could still end badly for all involved if they didn’t’ get moving.
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