"Unless something happened to them, yeah, sure."
"All right," Cole said with a nod. "I've got a hunch you're not going to like this, Lon, but for now the plan is to wait."
"You can't do that!" Lon couldn't keep the words from bursting out of him. "You can't just leave Miss Durand over there. She . . . she must be really scared, and maybe she's hurt – "
"Maguire won't hurt her. Right now she's worth too much to him as long as she's safe and sound."
"Maguire?"
"He's the leader of the gang," Cole said. "Adam Maguire. I don't know much about him. He was in town a few days ago, probably getting the lay of the land and planning the raid. He's smart enough to know he'll stand a better chance of collecting that ransom if he takes good care of Miss Durand."
"Unless he's already killed her and he's lying to you about her being all right," Lon said bitterly. "You wouldn't have any way of knowing if that was true, would you?"
Cole glanced over at Jeremiah. He looked like he didn't want to answer Lon's question, but after a couple of seconds he shook his head and said, "No, you're right about that, Lon. I sure wouldn't."
* * *
Maguire posted a man outside the cabin door to keep an eye on Brenda Durand and then walked over to the campfire one of the gang had built. They had boiled up some coffee. Maguire poured himself a cup of it and stood there sipping it as he waited for Lije Beaumont to return.
He didn't have to wait long. His keen eyesight spotted Beaumont as the man rode out of the gap. The branch to which the flag of truce was tied rested across the saddle in front of him. Maguire could see the flash of white as the piece of fabric jerked and flapped in the chilly wind.
It took Beaumont about ten minutes to ride across the valley to the outlaw camp. When he got there he dismounted and handed his horse's reins to one of the other men.
"Who did you talk to, Lije?" Maguire asked.
"That damn lawman. Tyler."
"What did he say?"
Beaumont grunted. "What could he say? He was gonna send somebody back to Wind River to let the girl's grandmother know what she's got to do."
"Did he think she would pay?"
"He didn't say she wouldn't," Beaumont said. "He claimed she would need more time to round up that much money, though."
"The more time we give them, the more likely they are to try some sort of trick," Maguire said. "If they're feeling enough pressure, they'll get it done. If they don't . . ." He shrugged. "That would be a real shame for us. It'd be an even bigger one for Miss Durand."
Beaumont gave him a shrewd, speculative look. "Would you really do it?" he asked. "Would you kill her if the grandma don't pay up?"
Maguire smiled. "Think back to the war, Sergeant. Did you ever know me to promise to do something and then back out on it?"
"No, sir, Lieutenant, I never did," Beaumont replied with an ugly chuckle and a shake of his head. "You always done exactly what you said you'd do."
"And nothing has changed, except that we're fighting for ourselves now, not for some damn cause."
Beaumont spat and said, "Once the shootin' starts, nobody's fightin' for a cause anymore. They just fight to stay alive."
That was true, Maguire thought. In the end, a man's survival was the only cause that really counted.
He turned and started toward the cabin. Beaumont stopped him by asking, "You plannin' on havin' some sport with the gal?"
Maguire heard the hoarse undercurrent of lust in his old friend's voice. Beaumont wanted Brenda Durand, too. In the long run, Maguire didn't really care about that, but he didn't want any other issues to complicate matters now. Getting their hands on that ransom was more important than anything else.
"Not now," Maguire said sharply. "Nobody tries anything with her unless I give the word. Be sure the men understand that."
Beaumont shrugged. "They might not like it."
"As long as they do what I say, I don't care if they like it or not."
"They'll go along with your orders, Adam."
Maguire folded his arms across his chest and smirked. "Yes, I've always inspired loyalty among the men under my command."
"And they know that if they cross you, you'll kill 'em."
"That, too," Maguire said.
Chapter 14
Lon had reacted to Cole's suggestion that they wait just about as badly as Cole expected. The young cowboy was angry and impatient and consumed with fear for the girl he had a crush on. Lon was ready to storm the outlaws' stronghold right then and there, although Cole could tell he recognized the futility of that.
Finally, Lon calmed down and stopped ranting and raving and flailing his arms in the air as he stomped around.
"Got that out of your system?" Cole asked.
"Yeah, I guess," Lon replied a little sheepishly.
"Then I reckon you're ready to listen to the rest of the plan. We're going to try to get Miss Durand out of there tonight."
Lon stared at him. "How are you gonna do that? I thought you said there's no way to get into that valley."
"There's no way to get a big posse in there. Two or three men might be able to do it, though."
Lon started to get more animated again, but it was from excitement and eagerness now, not frustration. He said, "I'm gonna be one of them, Marshal. Tell me how we're gonna do it."
Before Cole could start explaining, more hoofbeats drew their attention. A lot more. Cole looked down the slope and saw a large group of riders coming toward them, led by a familiar white-haired figure dressed all in black.
"Let's wait until your boss gets here," he said, "so I'll only have to go over it once."
Cole figured Sawyer and the Diamond S cowboys were still a quarter of a mile away. It took several minutes for them to reach the trees where he and the others waited. As they rode up, Sawyer held up a hand in a signal to stop.
"Lon, next time don't go skalleyhootin' off like that," Sawyer said with a frown. "Ain't no tellin' what you might've run into, and I promised your ma when I brought you off to Wyoming that I'd look after you."
"Beggin' your pardon, Mr. Sawyer, but I don't need lookin' after," Lon said with a frown of his own.
Cole could tell that they'd probably had this argument before, and he had no interest in it. He said, "Thanks for coming, Sawyer. I can sure use your help."
The cattleman grunted and swung down from the saddle. "That young newspaper fella Hatfield said owlhoots hit the bank and some of the other places in town. I had money in that bank, Tyler. The law's supposed to keep things like that from happenin'."
"If outlaws want something bad enough, there's usually no way to stop them," Cole said. "But we sure as hell don't have to let them get away with it. They kidnapped a young woman, too . . . or don't you care about that?"
"I know they carried off the Durand girl. I'm sorry to hear about it. Hope she's all right. I figure we'll get her back, too, along with the money, when we blast those varmints to perdition."
"Blasting anybody isn't going to be easy," Cole said. "They control the only approach to the valley."
Sawyer snorted. "That just means we got 'em bottled up, don't it? They can't get away."
"As long as they've got Miss Durand, that doesn't matter. But I've got an idea how to go about getting her out of there."
"Let's hear it."
Cole began by explaining what he knew about the terrain, which wasn't as much as he wished it was. Despite the valley's relative proximity to Wind River, nothing had happened during Cole's time as marshal to bring him out here to this spot.
"They'll cut down anybody who approaches the gap during daylight hours," he said, "but they won't be able to see nearly as well once the sun goes down."
Lon had been fidgeting while Cole talked. Now the young cowboy said, "Nightfall is still hours away. We can't leave Miss Durand in there for that long."
"She'll be all right," Cole said, hoping that the declaration didn't sound as hollow to everyone else's ears as it did to his own. As Lon had poi
nted out, he had no way of knowing that, or if Brenda was even still alive. He continued, "Once it's dark, we ought to be able to get some men on top of those bluffs. If they can take care of the riflemen, then the rest of us might be able to get through the gap."
Jeremiah said, "The rest of the outlaws will still put up a fight, though. And when the shooting starts, they might be more likely to go ahead and kill Miss Durand."
"That's why the shooting can't start until we've found out where she's being held and have somebody there to protect her."
Cole's plan had developed in his head as he was talking, and he realized now that it had several parts, all of which had to work together for them to have any chance of success.
He held up a finger. "We send a couple of men to infiltrate the valley and locate Miss Durand." Another finger. "They're part of a group that scales the bluffs and kills the sharpshooters, quiet-like so the rest of the gang doesn't know about it." He raised a third finger. "When the fellas down in the valley have found Miss Durand, they signal the ones on the bluff, who signal the rest of the posse. They charge the gap while the men on the bluff strike from the high ground at the defenders inside the passage. When the shooting starts, the two hombres in the valley grab Miss Durand and keep her safe until it's all over."
Cole looked around, waiting to hear the reaction from the other men.
"You make it sound like a military mission," Sawyer said.
"That's about what it amounts to. We'll be hitting them in three places at once, and it all has to happen at the same time."
Lon said, "I'm one of the men going into the valley to find Miss Durand."
Cole shrugged. "I reckon that'll be all right as long as you do what I tell you, because I'll be the other one."
"What about the men who go after the sharpshooters?" Frenchy LeDoux asked.
"I figured you'd be a good man to ramrod that chore," Cole said. "You can pick three or four men to go with you."
"Hold on here," Sawyer growled. "What about me?"
"You'll be in charge of the bunch that hits the gap from the front," Cole told him.
Sawyer nodded as if satisfied with that, but then he pointed a finger at Lon. "I'm not sure you're doin' the right thing by takin' this young colt with you, though. You're talkin' about goin' right into the heart of that bad bunch. You'd do better takin' Frenchy with you. That Cajun's got more bark on him."
"I can handle the job, Mr. Sawyer," Lon said tightly. Clearly, he was angry with his boss, but he was keeping his temper reined in.
Cole shook his head and said, "I'd rather have LeDoux take care of those sharpshooters. As long as they're up there, we don't stand a chance."
"Lon will be all right, boss," Frenchy said. "He's not the same wrangler and chuck wagon helper that he was when we came up here. He's grown up an awful lot in the past couple of years."
"All right," Sawyer said with grudging acceptance. He glared at Cole. "But don't you get that boy killed. His mama down in Texas would never forgive me."
Cole said, "I'm hoping that the only ones killed tonight are from the bunch that raided Wind River."
But inside him lay the grim certainty that that probably wouldn't be the case.
* * *
The afternoon was a long one, made to seem even longer by Lon's impatience and the all-consuming fear he felt for Brenda. Frenchy tried to get him to eat, and finally he gave in to the foreman's urging and gnawed on a strip of jerky and a biscuit from the provisions that the cowboys had brought along. They boiled up a pot of coffee, too, and Lon sipped from a tin cup of the strong, black brew. Despite the worries that plagued him, he had to admit that he felt a little better after he'd had the food and drink.
While Lon was standing under the trees with Sawyer and Frenchy, Cole came over to them and asked the cattleman, "When you passed through town, did you happen to hear anything about how Billy Casebolt is doing?"
"Doc Kent's the one who told us what was going on and sent us on out here," Sawyer replied. "He said you might ask about that deputy of yours. Casebolt was still alive when we were there. The doc said he hadn't come to yet. Gonna be touch and go for a few days, until Kent can tell if the deputy's strong enough to get over bein' shot."
Cole nodded and said, "Thanks for telling me that, Sawyer. I reckon I'll take all the good news I can get, and right now Billy still being alive is good news."
French said, "That old-timer is tough as whang leather, Marshal. He'll pull through."
"I hope you're right." Cole's voice and expression were grim as he added, "Either way, I'll take particular pleasure in settling the score with that fella Maguire, no matter how it plays out."
The sun seemed to crawl toward the western horizon, but finally that blazing orb touched it and began to dip below the dark line of the earth. Shadows slipped over the landscape.
"You've got your men picked out to go with us?" Cole asked Frenchy.
"Yeah," the foreman replied. "You said we needed to take care of those sharpshooters without makin' a bunch of racket, so I picked men who I know are good with a knife."
Cole smiled. "That's exactly what we need, all right. I figured you'd see it the same way, LeDoux."
"How long do we wait?" Lon asked.
"Until it's good and dark, but no later. They're probably expecting us to try something, but they might not be looking for it until later in the night. We'll try to cross them up by hitting them pretty soon."
"Can't be soon enough to suit me," Lon muttered.
The men who would go after the sharpshooters and infiltrate the valley would have to cross the flat on foot, because the sound of hoofbeats would carry to the men in the gap and on top of the bluffs. They were armed with revolvers and knives and had rigged slings so they could carry rifles on their backs as they climbed, even though the shooting wouldn't come until later. Cole went around and checked with everyone in the party, nodding in satisfaction when he saw that they were ready.
He and Lon wouldn't take rifles along. Chances were, any gun work they did would be at close range. Each of them carried two Colts, one holstered and the other stuck behind the gunbelt. They would be able to do a lot of damage in a hurry if they needed to.
The wind picked up after dark, and the chill that had lurked in it all day fulfilled its promise and became downright cold. Lon didn't really feel it, though. The heat of the emotions burning inside him kept him warm through and through.
Cole finished another cup of coffee and cast the dregs aside with a flick of his wrist. He handed the empty cup to one of Sawyer's men and said, "I reckon it's about time to go."
Lon looked up through the trees at the sky. Stars twinkled here and there in the blackness, but some clouds were moving in and the moon wasn't up yet. Even when it rose, it would be only a thin crescent at this time of the month. The night was good and dark, just the way they needed it.
Sawyer came over to Lon and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I wasn't jokin' about your ma," the cattleman said. "She'll have my hide if anything happens to you, son." Sawyer's grip tightened. "It wouldn't do any good to ask you to let somebody else do this, would it?"
"No, sir," Lon said without hesitation. "Not a bit."
"I didn't think so. You're a Texan through and through, which means you're just about the stubbornest critter on the face of the earth. You be careful up there, Lon."
"I'll try," he promised. "But rescuing Miss Durand comes first."
"You know that gal don't give a flip about you, don't you?"
"That doesn't matter," Lon replied with a shake of his head.
"No, I don't suppose it would." Sawyer let go of Lon's shoulder and patted him on the back. There was nothing left to say.
One of the Diamond S hands went to put out the fire, but Cole stopped him. "Leave it burning," the marshal said. "That makes it look more like we're settled down here for the night. The rest of you move around a lot so they can see your shadows. I want those varmints up on the bluff to have something to look at w
hile we're sneaking up on them." He turned to Sawyer. "You remember the signal?"
"Damn right I remember it," Sawyer snapped. "You figure I'm gettin' forgetful in my old age, Tyler?"
"Just making sure," Cole said with a smile.
"When we see three lights on the bluff, we'll charge that gap like ol' Sam Houston goin' after Santa Anna at San Jacinto."
"Good enough," Cole said. He shook hands with the rancher and motioned for the men who were going with him to follow him.
He left the trees on the side away from the bluffs. Lon was right beside him, with Frenchy and the other men behind. With the slope to conceal them and the darkness all around them, Lon knew that the sharpshooters wouldn't be able to see them leaving.
Cole angled to the right and led the group about a quarter of a mile before he turned back to the bench that fronted the bluffs. "Stay low," he told the other men. "We're far enough away right now that they shouldn't be able to hear us, but move as quiet as you can anyway."
"We've all fought Comanches," Lon said. "Nobody moves any quieter than they do."
"I hope you learned from them, then," Cole said. He loped out onto the flat, angling back toward the spot where the gap cut through the bluffs.
There were sharpshooters on both sides of that gap, so they had already figured that Frenchy's force would have to split up. Two men would climb each bluff, not counting Cole and Lon. They would try to eliminate any of the outlaws they encountered, but their real goal was to make it over the bluffs into the valley.
Lon knew the seriousness of the task that faced him. He knew there was a very real chance he would be killed tonight. If he survived, likely that would be because he killed some of the outlaws. He was prepared for that eventuality.
He was willing to run the risk either way if it meant freeing Brenda Durand. As he hurried through the darkness, Lon offered up a silent prayer that she was still all right.
Chapter 15
Brenda was thankful that none of the men had bothered her during the long afternoon, and she didn't want to feel that way. She didn't want to experience the least little bit of anything that could be mistaken for gratitude to them.
Ransom Valley (Wind River Book 7) Page 8