Renegade's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

  I hope so . . . He saved us, Mercy . . .

  Mercy nodded as Rachel lost awareness again.

  The doctor said there wasn't much that could be done other than to wait it out.

  As soon as they'd returned to the fort, Mercy had sent word to Rachel's fiancé in Sacramento about what had happened. She hoped Carl would be coming soon to take care of her. Rachel certainly loved him, and Mercy believed he would want to be with her, as sick as she was.

  "I just got word that he will see us now," Charles told Maureen as he sought her out.

  "I'm more than ready. No wonder Sheri was so desperate to save Brand. You should hear all the ugly things people are saying. They're convinced that he's guilty, even though we all know that he's not."

  "Prejudice is a terrible thing. It looks like it's up to us to find some kind of proof that Brand is innocent."

  "Well, let's see what the colonel says. He was there that night. Maybe he'll remember something that will help us."

  "And maybe he won't. Judging from what I've been hearing from the women, he had no use for Brand at allnone." Maureen's gaze met Charles's and they were both quiet.

  "The man we really need to talk to is Phillip. He could tell us what really went on that night, but from what I've found out, Hancock sent him, along with O'Toole and several scouts, off to help the posse track Brand."

  "His own friends are hunting him down?" Maureen paled at the news and was truly frightened now.

  "At least, they won't shoot first and ask questions later, and you know how good Brand is. If anybody can outsmart O'Toole and Long, it's Brand."

  I know, but I was hoping O'Toole would be here to help us."

  "It's better that he's out there, keeping the gun-happy men from town from shooting on sight."

  "You're right. I just wish we could get to the bottom of this. The thought that Brand might be shot before we can prove he didn't do it scares me."

  "It scares me, too," Charles agreed. "Let's go see if the colonel can help us."

  "How do you want to handle this?"

  "We'll just pretend innocence and ignorance and see what happens."

  They headed for his office, hoping to learn some bit of information that might save Brand.

  Hancock was not pleased that the pair had come to McDowell. In fact, he had stalled this meeting deliberately, hoping they would pack up and go back to town. When they'd stayed, waiting patiently to speak with him, he realized that he should have known better. Brennan was a good journalist. He had a way of digging at a story until he got everything he wanted. The colonel had to make sure that this time, the reporter didn't get anything except what he wanted him to know.

  "Brennan, Miss Cleaver, come in and have a seat." He stood as he welcomed them and gestured them toward two chairs before his desk. He then sat back down and smiled encouragingly. "What can I help you with?"

  "We're here because of Brand. So much has happened that we're very concerned about his safety and about Sheri's," Maureen began, playing upon his sympathies, hoping concern for Sheri would move him to help them.

  ''Why are you concerned about the safety of a fleeing killer?"

  "We are convinced Brand is innocent," Charles offered.

  Maureen went on, "We think that's why Sheri dared to break him out of jail. There was talk of a lynch mob that night. She must have been afraid he was going to be hanged without a fair triala trial that would have set him free."

  "Your cousin is a stupid woman," Hancock said harshly.

  Maureen gasped at his words.

  He went on without pause. "The penalty for breaking someone out of jail is severe."

  "What was she supposed to do, sir?" Charles pressed, sensing Hancock had overreacted to the remark. "Wait for him to be hanged before she took action? If a gang had come after him that night, there was no way Sheriff Warren and Deputy Sullivan could have stopped them."

  "So? The world would be a better place now if that had happened!" Hancock fought to control his temper. He was furious with the St. John woman for interfering. He slowly brought his rage under control.

  "Colonel, I can't believe you said that," Maureen said, aghast. "Sheri is a woman of principle. She could never have stood by and watched Brand hang for a crime he didn't commit."

  Hancock wanted to scream that she had only freed him because she wanted the half-breed in her bed, but he didn't. He smiled thinly. "How can Miss St.

  John and the two of you be so confident that Brand didn't kill Marcus Hale? I was in the bar when I heard Brand say he was going to kill him. If Lieutenant Long and I hadn't pulled him off of Hale then, he might have murdered him right before our very eyes, and then we wouldn't be having this ridiculous conversation. The breed said he was going to do it, and he did it. What more is there to know?"

  Maureen heard the deadly edge to the colonel's voice and was intimidated by it. Charles, however, was puzzled and intrigued. He didn't understand why the man was so intent on seeing Brand hang for murder.

  "Colonel Hancock, there were no eyewitnesses. No one saw Brand anywhere near Hale after he left the bar. The murder weapon was not found."

  "Hale's throat was slit. Isn't that enough proof?"

  "Anyone could have done that. Even you, sir," Charles said with feigned innocence.

  "Me!" Hancock exploded, standing in a near-violent movement. "You dare to accuse me of this heinous crime? The half-breed's as guilty as hell, and your cousin is just as guilty for breaking him out. The authorities will deal with them appropriately when they find them, and I hope for justice's sake, it's soon!"

  Charles stared at the colonel, taking care to keep his expression neutral. It would never do for Hancock to suspect what he was thinking. There was something very wrong here . . . very wrong. And Charles wanted to talk to the lieutenant right away.

  "Colonel Hancock, do you have any idea when the lieutenant and Sergeant O'Toole will be returning?"

  Hancock was shaken by his own display of temper,

  and he struggled to appear calm as he walked around the desk, all but ushering them from the room. "When they find the breed. Not before. Now, if you'll excuse me, I do have other pressing matters to deal with."

  Maureen rose, as did Charles. They thanked the colonel for taking the time to talk to them.

  "If you hear anything from the posse, will you let us know?"

  "Of course," Hancock said quickly, anxious to get them out of his office.

  "We'd appreciate it."

  As they passed through the office door, he shut it firmly behind them. Hancock turned away from the portal and went to the small cabinet next to his desk. He took out his whiskey bottle and poured himself a double shot in a tumbler. Without hesitation, he downed it.

  "There," he said with satisfaction as he felt his nerves steady. Finally, as the wild anger within him calmed, he smiled. Now he could go on with his day.

  Charles and Maureen didn't say anything until they were a distance away from the office and sure that they were alone so no one could overhear them.

  "That was interesting," Charles said, glancing back toward the office, his expression thoughtful.

  "Interesting? I'd call it more than interesting. The man is horrible! How can he believe that Brand is guilty? Why did he get so furious with us?"

  He smiled slightly. "Sometimes, if you get too close to the truth, people try to scare you off by getting belligerent and accusing. You just saw a perfect example."

  "You mean, you think . . ." Her expression was shocked.

  "Exactly."

  "But why? What possible motive could the man have for killing Hale and then letting Brand go to jail for it?"

  "Didn't you just hear the women talking about how much he disapproved of his daughter's marriage to Brand?"

  "But that was years ago."

  "It doesn't matter. His daughter disobeyed him and is now dead. There's only one person he can blame for her death, and that's Brand."

  "Do you think he hates him so muc
h that he would have killed a man for no reason and then framed Brand for it?"

  Charles looked thoughtful. "You have to remember what Hale was saying when Brand attacked him. He was insulting Becky and Sheri. As demented as Hancock seems to be, it makes perfect sense. Brand was heard threatening the man. The man ends up dead. Brand is guilty. Why would anyone suspect him? He thinks he's planned the perfect murder. He's exacted his revenge upon Hale, and now he's finally going to see Brand pay for what happened to his daughter."

  "And he's going to get away with it," Maureen said sadly, seeing no way to prove Hancock's guilt. "There were no clues or witnesses. How can we prove he did it?"

  "We'll think of something. We have to. Let's just hope Brand and Sheri can stay away from the posse long enough to give us time."

  "Time to do what?"

  "I want to go back into town for a while. There are a few other people I need to ask questions. Coming with me?"

  "If it will help Sheri and Brand, you couldn't leave me behind."

  The rains had provided one blessing for Sheri. When she arose early the next morning, there was a pool of water in an indentation in the rocks near the cave that was deep enough for her to bathe in. Brand stood guard, allowing her that short time of feminine privacy. He caught one glimpse of a slender thigh while he was trying not to look, and it took a major effort of will on his part to keep himself from joining her in the water. Under any other circumstances, he would have indulged himself in the sweetness of loving her in the morning, but the threat of danger was too real. He had to keep her safe. That was more important than anything else.

  His thoughts drifted to the night before as his hawk-like gaze continually swept the valley below. He had never known love could be so beautiful and so giving. She was a passionate, tender lover. Just thinking of the hours he'd passed in her arms brought heat pounding back through his body, settling low in his loins, and he had to force his thoughts away from the night just past. He had to concentrate on keeping them alive, so there could be more nights like the last one. He wanted to spend the rest of his life loving her. But right now that was just a dream. He couldn't think of the future at all until his innocence was proven.

  Sheri was refreshed and as ready as she would ever be to ride out when she finished dressing. She was thankful that she'd gotten the opportunity to bathe, for she knew how serious their situation was and how any small delay might cause trouble for them later.

  "Are you ready?" she asked, as she found Brand keeping careful watch over the valley below.

  He nodded. "The horses are saddled. Let's go."

  "Where are we going?"

  "Wherever they're not."

  She knew she had to be satisfied with his response. She mounted up, prepared to follow him anywhere. She believed in him and trusted him, and she loved him with all her heart. Nothing else mattered.

  Sheriff Warren was frustrated. "I sure am glad the colonel sent you to help us," he told Philip late that afternoon. "If it wasn't for you and your scouts, we'd have had to turn back hours ago."

  "We still haven't picked up a new trail yet. The rain pretty much wiped everything out. It may take us until tomorrow to find it."

  "That's all right. It will be worth every minute to bring the breed and the girl in."

  "Speaking of the girl, what do you intend to do with her?"

  "I'm going to attest her and throw her in jail. It's what she deserves. She broke a killer out of jail!"

  "Is there any possibility that she didn't do it? That maybe he kidnapped her and took her along for a hostage?"

  Warren frowned. "No. She was in my office twice that day wanting to make sure he was all right. Why, she even . . ." He suddenly shut up as he realized what he'd almost told the lieutenant.

  "She even what?"

  "Nothing. She was making up all kinds of stories trying to get the breed released, but I told her I didn't have time to listen to her. I told her to go back to the hotel and stay out of the way because trouble was brewing down at the saloon."

  "So she thought the crowd might try to hang him that night?"

  "I was afraid they'd try. They were all drunked up and acting crazy, but Sullivan and I got them calmed down. When I got back, though, the breed was gone." He shook his head in disgust as he remembered his frustration that night.

  Philip was intrigued by Warren's mention of Sheri "making up stories," and he couldn't resist asking, "Just what kind of stories was she making up about Brand?"

  "I shouldn't have said anything. Just forget that I did."

  "No, I'm serious," he pressed. "Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe what she had to tell you wasn't a story."

  "It had to be a lie. . . ." Warren cut himself off.

  "What did?"

  "She said Brand had spent the night with her," the sheriff blurted out, and immediately regretted it when he saw the lieutenant's shocked expression.

  "I see." Philip went silent for a minute, digesting this news. Jealousy ate at him; he hated to think that Sheri and Brand were lovers. Still, as he thought about her and the kind of woman she was, he knew she was no liar. With much regret, Philip realized she had been telling the sheriff the truth, even at the risk of sacrificing herself "Why did you think she wasn't telling the truth?"

  "Well . . ." Warren looked at the officer and knew he was serious. "Well, it seemed so farfetched. I mean, she had a lot to gain by keeping him alive, what with her writing a book about him and all. It wouldn't look too good if the man she'd picked to be the hero got strung up for murder, now would it?"

  "We're not talking about a novel here, sheriff. We're talking about a man's life."

  "I didn't know you cared about the breed."

  "I care about justice and truth. If Miss St. John came to you and told you in no uncertain terms that she could vouch for his whereabouts all night, and you refused to listen, I'd say she was desperate to save his life. And knowing her as I do . . . Well, she's the type of woman who will go to any lengths to achieve her goals if she believes in them."

  Sheriff Warren heard the censure in the lieutenant's tone and suddenly realized that he might have been wrong about dismissing Sheri's tale as a lie. "But what does that make her, if she did spend the night with him?"

  Philip shot the sheriff a cold look as he defended Sheri's honor. "A woman in love."

  He put his heels to his horse and rode away. He'd heard enough from Warren for now.

  But as they continued the search the rest of that day, Philip began to think about the night of the murder again. He had to admit to himself that he had automatically assumed that Brand was guilty. Now, he saw things in a different light. If Brand had been with Sheri, who else would have had the opportunity and the reason to kill Hale? The rest of that night in the bar replayed in Philip's mind as he tried to remember just what everyone had done. Colonel Hancock had left almost half an hour before he had, claiming fatigue. He'd stayed on and had had another two drinks before going back to his room. Hale had staggered out of the saloon sometime shortly before he had.

  Philip frowned. Something was nagging at him that he couldn't quite put his finger on, and then he remembered. He had knocked on the colonel's door that night when he'd returned to the hotel, and there had been no answer. At the time, he'd just thought that Hancock had been sleeping soundly, but now he recalled that just as he had been falling asleep, he'd heard the colonel return to his room. He remembered thinking at the time that it was strange that the colonel had been gone longer from the saloon than he had and yet was just now getting back to their lodging.

  Philip tensed as he tried to think things through. If Colonel Hancock hated Brand as much as he suspected he did, did he hate him enough to frame him for a murder that he himself had committed? The possibility was chilling.

  They had to find Brand and bring him in alive. Only then could they get at the truth.

  Just before dusk, one of the scouts signaled the posse that he'd picked up the fugitives' trail. They rode as quick
ly as they could to join him and then followed the trail until darkness forced them to quit for the night.

  After they had made camp, O'Toole moved away from the others to stand alone and stare off into the distance. He wondered where in the massive mountain range his friend had taken refuge. He had been pleased with the rain the night before, but now that they had found Brand's trail, they would be closing on him. In his heart, O'Toole wanted Brand to remain free, but logically he knew his friend would never be free again until he'd been proven innocent.

  He turned away from the view and went to bed down for the night. His thoughts were of Brand as he started to fall asleep.

  Sheri settled in at their new campsite the second night and quickly ate the cold meal that was her dinner. It wasn't much, but she was too tired to care. As soon as Brand joined her, she moved to sit beside him. They were camped in the open this night, but they were still in a high, rocky location that would be impregnable after dark. They would be able to rest well again. After he'd eaten, Brand spread out their bedrolls. It took no encouragement to get Sheri to lie down.

  "Tired?" he asked, stretching out next to her.

  "Exhausted," she told him.

  He lay back and folded his arms under his head as he stared up at the sky. "It's a beautiful night. You can see your stars tonight."

  Sheri had had her eyes closed, but at his words, she looked up. There, overhead, was the most magnificent canopy of stars she'd ever seen. The moon had not risen yet, and the stars were all the brighter because of it.

  "It's beautiful," she breathed, gazing up at the star-spangled sky. As she was watching, a meteor streaked across the heavens, and she gasped in surprise. "Brand! Did you see it?"

  He smiled at her delight. As sophisticated as she was, she still took childlike pleasure in some things. ''Yes."

  "It was wonderful! I've never seen one before!"

  "Be sure to use it in the book," he said, chuckling.

  "If there is a book," she said softly. "When this started out, the trip was to be fun, an adventure for Maureen and me. But now it's become a matter of life and death, of survival, and I don't like it. I don't like it at all."