With the boss of the Diamond S in the lead, the Texans charged out of the trees and onto the flat. Sawyer rode hard, calling on his mount for all the speed it possessed. Although he would never show it, fear gnawed at his guts. He had faced overwhelming odds and deadly danger more times than he could remember in his long, adventurous life, so he was used to fights like this. He wasn't afraid for himself.
It was Lon who occupied his thoughts. He never should have let the boy go with Tyler, he told himself as the cold wind whipped at his face. People seemed to think it was a joke whenever he said something about promising Lon's mother that he'd take care of the youngster, but Sawyer was completely serious about it. That woman meant a lot to him, and so did the boy . . .
Sawyer forced those thoughts out of his head. There was no time for them now. Even though the range was still too great to do any real damage, he pointed his gun at the dark mouth of the gap, let out a yell, and began pulling the trigger as he shouted, "Give 'em hell, boys!"
* * *
Up on the bluff, Frenchy was torn. A part of him wanted to get down there into that valley and give Lon and Marshal Tyler a hand if he could. They would be facing long odds.
But his job was up here, and it was an important one. He and the other two men had to pick off the defenders in the gap, or else Sawyer and the rest of the crew would be galloping right into a storm of lead.
Down below, the men hidden in the rocks opened fire at the charging Texans. It took only a few moments for Frenchy to spot all of them by the muzzle flashes of their rifles. Then he let out a Rebel yell. That was the signal for the men on the other side of the gap to open fire.
Frenchy pressed the butt of his Winchester against his shoulder and cut loose, spraying lead down into the gap as fast as he could work the repeater's lever. Slugs ricocheted madly from the rocks. Their high-pitched whines blended together in a melody of sorts, a grim tune of leaden death.
It took less than a minute for the defenders who weren't either dead or badly wounded to retreat from that blistering attack, their nerves breaking under the barrage of bullets. As the hammer of Frenchy's rifle clicked empty, he heard men shouting and telling each other to get the hell out of there. Boot leather slapped rapidly against rock as the outlaws fled.
Frenchy stood up and reloaded on the run as he dashed toward the other side of the bluff. He figured he might have a chance to wing a couple of the fleeing owlhoots, although it might be too dark for that. At the very least he could hurry them on their way and make it easier for Sawyer and the others to get through the passage.
As he reached a spot where he could look down into the valley, he saw the flicker of muzzle flashes from the area along the creek where the outlaw camp was located. The little splashes of orange were like fireflies winking in the night, and they might have almost been pretty . . . .
If Frenchy hadn't known that men were dying down there.
* * *
Lon could have stood there and held Brenda all night. She felt that good in his arms. But with guns going off outside the cabin he didn't have that luxury, so he let go of her and turned quickly to the table where the lantern burned.
"No!" Brenda exclaimed, clutching at him.
"It's all right," Lon told her again. He leaned over and blew out the flame in the lantern. That plunged the inside of the cabin into darkness. Brenda wailed in dismay.
Lon took hold of her arm. She tried to pull away from him. He sensed that she was in such a state of panic that she might run right out into the middle of all that gunfire if he gave her the chance. He tightened his grip so she couldn't get away from him.
That move backfired a little on him. She started struggling and flailed blows at him with her other hand. Lon ignored them and got both arms around her again, wrapping her up as best he could as he tried to steer her toward the door.
"Miss Durand, settle down!" he told her. "It's me, Lon Rogers! I won't hurt you. You're safe now."
That last part was a lie – neither of them were safe, not by a long shot, he figured – but he was trying to get through to her and calm her down. As they reached the doorway he tried to peer past her and figure out what was going on outside. Most of the shooting seemed to be coming from his left.
That meant the safest way to go was right. He lunged in that direction and dragged Brenda along with him.
Lon knew Cole had to be in the middle of that gunfight, and he felt bad about abandoning the marshal instead of staying and trying to help him. But they had ventured into this valley to rescue Brenda, so getting her away from the outlaws had to come first. Lon was confident that Cole would tell him the same thing.
He hustled Brenda through the trees along the creek as more shots rolled and echoed through the darkness. These came from the bluffs to the south, and that told Lon the rest of the plan was underway. Mr. Sawyer and the other men from the Diamond S were trying to battle their way through the passage and into the valley. All Lon had to do was dodge the outlaws and keep Brenda out of their hands until the other members of the gang were wiped out or captured.
She stopped fighting and went limp as sobs wracked her body. That actually made it more difficult for him, because now he had to manage to keep her dead weight moving. Not only that, but her loud crying might attract attention they didn't want. Lon hated to be even the least bit rough with her, but he shook her and said urgently, "Miss Durand! Brenda! Stop it!"
She continued crying. Lon grimaced and shifted one of his hands to clamp it over her mouth. That made her start fighting again.
"If you'll stop crying, I'll let you go," he told her. "But you've got to cooperate with me. Can you do that?"
She surprised him by nodding. Maybe she was calming down and thinking straighter. He took his hand away from her mouth.
She gasped for air a couple of times, then said, "You idiot! I couldn't breathe! You had your hand over my nose, too."
"I did?" Lon hadn't even realized that. "I'm sorry, Miss Durand, I just didn't want those outlaws to hear us – "
"So you thought you'd suffocate me instead?"
So all it took to get through to her was to make her mad enough, Lon thought. He said, "I swear, I didn't know you couldn't get your breath, Miss Durand. Now if you'll come with me, we'll put some more ground between us and those owlhoots."
"Who else is with you?" she asked as they started through the trees. Lon had a hand on her arm again, this time to steady her since they couldn't see where they were going very well.
"Marshal Tyler and the rest of the fellas from the Diamond S," he told her. "As soon as Mr. Sawyer and the boys get through that gap and into the valley, I reckon this fracas will be just about over."
"You all risked your lives to save me?" She sounded like she had a hard time believing that.
"Well, mostly," Lon said. "Also, we want to bring those owlhoots to justice and get back all the money they stole in town. It'd be a big blow to Wind River to lose that much."
"Yes, it would," Brenda agreed, still sniffling a little. "I knew there had to be another reason besides just rescuing me. Nobody around here even likes me."
"Now, that's just not true," Lon insisted. "I would have come after you even if – "
He stopped short, realizing that he was saying more than he meant to say. Even now, he was aware of the gulf between the two of them and didn't want to overstep his bounds.
"What did you start to say?" she asked. "You would have come after me even if they hadn't stolen all that money?"
"If they hadn't taken as much as a penny."
There. It was out in the open. Maybe she would understand now how he felt about her.
"How gallant of you," she said, but he could tell from her tone of voice that she was mocking him.
All right, he thought as he tried not to sigh. She didn't have to feel the same way toward him that he felt toward her. There was no rule in life that affection had to be returned. That didn't make his emotions any less genuine.
The shoot
ing was still going on around the cabin and over by the bluffs. Lon figured that he and Brenda had come about half a mile. That ought to be far enough away for them to be safe until the fighting was over, he decided.
"We'll stop and wait here," he said. They were in the thick shadows underneath a tree.
"I think we should keep going," she said. "I don't want to be anywhere close to those . . . those bastards!"
Lon was a little shocked to hear such language coming from a woman, but he supposed Brenda had a good excuse. She had been treated roughly and no doubt threatened and terrorized, and if anybody had the right to cuss those outlaws, it was her.
"I never got a chance to ask you if you were all right," he said. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"
"They made me ride a horse for miles and miles. I'll be so sore tomorrow that I may not be able to walk for a week!"
"Oh, you'll get over that quicker than you think you will," Lon assured her. "Now that you live here in Wyoming, you should get out and ride more often so you'll get used to it. There's nothing like it."
"Why would I want to do a thing like that?"
"Well, there's some mighty spectacular scenery in these parts."
"If you like rocks and dirt and ugly little bushes."
"There's more to it than that," Lon said. "You just need to get up in the high country, like the Diamond S range." He paused and then told himself to take a chance. "I could show you sometime – "
A gun cocked somewhere close by, and Adam Maguire's voice said, "That's touching, cowboy, but I think your courting days are over."
Chapter 19
Cole knew there was a good chance some of the outlaws would try to flank him, so he was ready for them when they charged him. The ones who were still in front of the log opened fire again, forcing him to stay down. The gun-thunder also served to drown out any noise the other men made moving through the brush.
Cole had a gun in each hand, though, and had turned around so that his back was against the log and he could look in both directions by turning his head. He figured the flankers would get too eager, and sure enough, a gun suddenly blasted to his right, flame licking from its muzzle.
He was about to swivel in that direction and cut loose with both revolvers, but some instinct made him stop and roll the other way instead. He was banking on the hope that that first shot had been a feint.
Dark figures loomed up, charging him. Cole beat them to the punch. He fired both guns at the same time, triggering again and again and sending hot lead shrieking through the shadows. Men yelled in pain and gun flame leaped back at him.
He rolled to his left, still letting his instincts guide him, and fired back at the man who had feinted at him a few seconds earlier. The outlaw spilled off his feet and landed with a heavy thud.
The other members of the gang renewed their frontal attack. Cole twisted and came up on his knees. He thrust both revolvers in front of him, thumbing the hammers and tripping the triggers so that steady streams of fire geysered from their barrels. Bullets whipped past him and sang around his head. A great, grim fatalism filled him. He might fall with outlaw lead in him, but he wasn't going to stop shooting until his six-guns ran dry.
That happened pretty quickly as both hammers fell on empty chambers. Cole was about to dive behind the log again when hoofbeats thundered nearby.
"Tyler!" a familiar gravelly voice roared.
"Over here, Sawyer!" Cole shouted back to the cattleman.
"Hit the dirt!"
Cole bellied down on the ground and pressed himself against the log as fresh waves of gunfire swept through the trees. The Texans were all mounted, so they figured anybody on the ground was a likely target. Guns roared and roared until it sounded like an earthquake, Cole thought.
When the shooting finally stopped, the silence that dropped down over the landscape like a cloak had a strange, eerie sound of its own. After a moment, Kermit Sawyer called again, "Tyler, are you there?"
"Here," Cole replied as he pulled himself up and braced a hand against the log as he climbed to his feet.
"You hit?"
Cole had to take stock of himself before he answered. Amazingly, as many bullets as had been flying around, he didn't seem to be hurt.
"I'm all right," he said. "How about you?"
Sawyer rode up and swung down from his saddle. "We've got some men wounded, but none of 'em too bad, I hope," he said. "Accordin' to Frenchy we lost one man up on the bluffs, though."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me, too. But it's a hard world. Cleanin' up a bunch of polecats like this sometimes comes with a price." Sawyer paused, then asked with a peculiar tightness in his voice, "Where's Lon?"
"The last I saw of him, he was in the cabin where they were holding Miss Durand, fighting that fella Beaumont. I hope they got away, but I don't know for sure."
Sawyer looked around at his men and ordered, "Somebody get a torch burnin', damn it! We got to find that youngster. Some of those desperadoes might still be roamin' around. We don't know for sure that we wiped 'em all out."
The same thought had occurred to Cole. The fighting might be finished right here, but that didn't mean the danger was over, especially elsewhere in the valley.
* * *
Brenda gasped and shuddered against Lon. One of his arms tightened around her while his other hand reached for the gun at his hip.
"Don't move, kid," another voice said, this one belonging to Lije Beaumont. "The way my head hurts right now because of you, I'd like nothin' better than to blow your brains out."
Lon was a little surprised that Maguire and Beaumont hadn't already done that, but then he realized why they were holding their fire. He had Brenda with him, and as long as she was so close to him they couldn't risk any shots. They still regarded her as valuable, which meant they hadn't given up on the idea of collecting that ransom for her.
"Get the horses, Lije," Maguire ordered. "I'll keep an eye on our young friends here."
Lon heard Beaumont hurry off in the darkness.
"You better just let us go," Lon said. "My boss and his whole crew are close by, and they'll find us any minute. You'd be smart to light a shuck out of here while you still can."
"Not without the girl," Maguire snapped. "I've gone to too much trouble to let her go now. Her grandmother will still pay handsomely to get her back."
Lon could see the outlaw leader now, standing about ten feet away. A few stray beams of starlight reflected off the barrel of the gun in Maguire's hand. Maguire was too far away for Lon to try to jump him. All that would get him was a bullet.
He shifted a little, though, putting Brenda more behind him. If there was any gunplay, he wanted to shield her body with his own body as much as he could.
Brenda suddenly said, "You know Beaumont went against your orders, don't you?"
"What are you talking about?" Maguire asked sharply.
"He sent the guard away and came into the cabin. He was going to attack me. He would have done it, too, if Lon hadn't stopped him."
For a second, Maguire didn't say anything. Then he laughed harshly and said, "That's a lie. Lije told me he ran in there to check on you when the shooting started and found the cowboy with you. You got behind him and knocked him out."
"I tried my best to kill him," Brenda said. "I just couldn't hit him hard enough. His skull is too thick. But what I told you is true. Beaumont came after me. You shouldn't trust him."
Lon knew she was trying to drive a wedge between the two outlaws. It couldn't hurt anything. He said, "She's telling you the truth, mister. I was there and saw and heard the whole thing. Beaumont told the guard he didn't give a damn what you wanted."
Hoofbeats thudded on the ground nearby as Beaumont returned with a pair of horses. He got there in time to hear what Lon said and exploded, "What the hell are you lyin' about, kid? I never said any such thing!"
"You've wanted the girl for yourself all along," Maguire said. His voice had a chilly edge to it now, almost as chill
y as the wind. "Don't try to claim you haven't, Lije."
"Well, hell, of course I want her!" Beaumont said. "Any man with eyes in his head would. But that doesn't mean I went against your orders, Lieutenant."
"You always were a hotheaded fool, even during the war. If I hadn't kept a tight rein on you, you would have ruined things for our outfit plenty of times."
"That's not true, blast it! I always followed your orders."
"And that's why we survived," Maguire said. "Maybe you've forgotten that."
From the tone of the argument, Lon was starting to hope that the two outlaws would turn on each other and give him and Brenda a chance to get away. That hope was dashed as Maguire went on, "We can talk about all that later, though. Right now we've got to get that girl on a horse – "
Something crashed through the brush nearby, reminding Lon of a grizzly bear tearing through everything in its way. A huge figure loomed up, staggering. The newcomer's deep voice boomed, "I'm shot!"
"Corny!" Maguire exclaimed.
Lon didn't really know who the newcomer was, but evidently Brenda did. She cried, "Help me, Mr. Van Houten! They're going to kill me!"
The man called Van Houten said thickly, "Miss Durand?"
"Sorry, Corny, there's nothing we can do for you," Maguire said. "We've only got two horses. That's just enough for me and Lije, with the girl riding double with me."
"You ought to . . . let her go," Van Houten said, obviously having to force the words out because he was wounded. "She doesn't belong . . . with the likes of us."
"Back off," Beaumont growled. "We're gettin' outta here."
"Please, Mr. Van Houten," Brenda begged. "Your family would want you to stop them."
Van Houten said, "My family . . . has forgotten all about me. I'm . . . dead to them." He grunted in pain as he took a lumbering step forward. "Just like I'm going to be . . . dead to the whole world soon."
"You're right about that," Beaumont said as he lifted his gun. "We don't need you slowin' us down."
Ransom Valley (Wind River Book 7) Page 11