Gregory, Jill

by Warm Stranger Cold Night

  She stared down at the small enamel box he put into her hands.

  "It's a jewel box," he said softly. "Or I suppose you could use it to keep buttons," he added with a smile.

  "Oh. How pretty. Thank you." After everything she'd gone through today, Serena had never expected to receive a gift, and such a nice one at that. Surprise and pleasure washed over her. "You've very kind, Mr. Ellers."

  "It's nothing. I wish it were more," he said gently, his smile widening, showing beautiful even white teeth. "I wish that box was filled with diamonds. Perhaps one day soon, Mrs. Walsh, it will be."

  Serena couldn't contain a snort of laughter. "I wouldn't bet on that, Mr. Ellers."

  "Wouldn't you?" He took her hand. "Obviously, my dear, despite all your charms and ravishing attributes, you are not a gambler."

  With his eyes twinkling like miniature blue stars, he kissed her hand.

  Chapter 32

  "Please. I need water."

  Maura's whispered words were flung into the rising wind. For a moment she thought Luke Campbell, riding behind her in the saddle, couldn't hear her, but then she heard his voice rasp in her ear.

  "Shut up, lady. You'll have to wait till we get there."

  "Couldn't we just stop for a moment—"

  "So Lassiter can catch us? We ain't stupid!"

  "Please—"

  "Shut up!" Shifting the reins to one hand as his horse pounded over the hard, rutted trail, Campbell grabbed Maura's hair and viciously yanked her head back against his shoulder. At her anguished cry, he shouted, "Keep your damned trap shut or you'll get worse than that!"

  Tears sprang from her eyes as he released her with a grunt. With her hands tied to the pommel, she couldn't even wipe them from her cheeks. They streamed down her face as the outlaw whipped his horse to a furious gallop and they passed Lee, with Nell before him in the saddle—her hands tied to the pommel as well. Maura saw that the girl's green eyes were glazed with fear.

  Rage for what they were doing to that young girl, as well as to herself, trembled through her. Helpless tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as the wind tore at her hair and flung dust into her face. She had no idea how long they'd been riding, but her entire body ached from jolting over rough trails, up and down hills and narrow twisting passes. Her wrists were chafed and bloody from the rope that bound them to the pommel. But she tried not to think of any of that. She tried to think only of Quinn.

  Quinn would come after her. She knew that as surely as she knew that the sun would set, the moon would rise, and the mountains would tower over the prairie.

  And when Quinn came—to help her, to save her—the Campbells would kill him.

  Horror knifed through her heart. Her fear for him rose in her like a screaming storm tide. She fought it, fought the despair in her soul and tried to stay calm, but the thundering ride through this wild, merciless country went on forever and she knew that at the end of it there would be a trap, that pain and grief and death awaited them.

  And what of her baby? Quinn's baby?

  These men would not hesitate to slaughter either her or Nell—or the baby. They would stamp out their lives with no more care than they would give to stepping on an ant.

  But she was stronger, tougher than they thought, Maura told herself as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Love for her child and for Quinn swelled inside her.

  Love is stronger than fear, she told herself fiercely. Stronger than hate. Stronger than despair.

  If there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that Quinn wasn't giving up. He would never give up.

  And neither will I, Maura vowed silently as the horse beneath her tore ever faster toward the lone mountain in the distance. I'll fight them and Quinn will fight them— with everything we have.

  Lucky Johnson was driving two stray calves away from a ravine and toward the safety of a hillside where a dozen other cows grazed, when he heard the rumble of hooves. He twisted in the saddle and saw Slim riding hard right toward him, waving his hat over his head.

  "Yahoo! Lucky! Trouble!"

  The calves forgotten, he spurred Peaches forward.

  "What now?"

  "The boss sent word from town. It's the Campbells. They got Miz Lassiter—and Nell Hicks!"

  Lucky nearly fell out of his saddle. The world around him went dark as he stared into the cowhand's flushed, sweat-streaked face. All of the Wyoming sunshine seemed to have been eaten up, then it returned in a flash, but dimmer, harsher than before.

  "Where'd they take them?"

  "Skull Rock—but wait!" Slim grabbed Lucky's arm as he started to swing his horse around in that direction. "Don't go riding off doing no fool thing. The boss has a plan—he sent me to find you and Orville and said we should meet him at Cougar Pass. Orville's already on his way, so come on, let's ride!"

  Lucky couldn't move. Stunned, he stared after Slim, seeing not the lowering clouds in the sky, the dark, gritty puffs of dust, or Slim's narrow hunched shoulders as he crouched low in the saddle. All he could see was Nell's face—her hurt, stunned expression at that damned dance when he'd walked right past her and asked Orchid to dance with him instead.

  He'd done it to spite her, to show her. And he'd never had the chance to dance with her that night, though that's all he'd really wanted to do. Now he might never get the chance at all.

  His insides churned. The thought of that saucy green-eyed girl scared and helpless and at the mercy of those bastards made him sick with rage. And they had Miz Lassiter too. He felt something start to scald inside him, felt desperation heat to boiling fury.

  With a bloodcurdling yell, he spurred Peaches forward and rode like hell for the pass.

  Shortly after the Campbell gang and their prisoners reached the towering gray mountain called Skull Rock, a small army of men began digging frantically half a mile away at the blocked-up entrance to an ancient cave.

  "Weaver, you sure this was the one?"

  Quinn, his hands tearing, straining at the massive boulder atop piles of other massive boulders, flung a glance over his shoulder at the thick, sweating face of Seth Weaver.

  "Not a doubt in my mind. Edna and I were newly married, honeymooners. I was working at the shooting gallery in those days." Seth Weaver brushed a sleeve across his dripping brow and squinted at the barricade of rocks, the jutting gray boulders that hid what used to be the mouth of a cave. "We came here on a picnic, but it started to rain. We sought shelter in the cave."

  Quinn and Jim Tyler hauled at the boulder, moved it one precious inch. All around them other men strained at the rocks that clogged the opening. Lucky got a handhold on a sharp-edged rock and rolled it sideways, causing others to shift. Men grabbed, pulled, hefted. They worked in frantic, furious unison and in silence, those men of Hope. Determination shone upon their faces.

  "When the rockslide started, we tried to get out but we were trapped. Thought we'd die in there. No way out through the entrance, but the cave went on—and on. Nothing to do but follow it. Sure enough, it was a tunnel. Led us out on the underside of Skull Rock. That opening was covered with brush, but Edna and I, we hacked our way through."

  "How many years ago was this?" Quinn's hands were slippery with sweat as he pulled at the rock with all his might. It gave another few inches and a small slide of stones suddenly rolled down from above, nearly striking Jim Tyler, but the rancher jumped aside in time.

  "Thirty years ago come September."

  John Hicks, pale as death, one eye blackened from Ned Campbell's fist, kicked in frustration at the rock Lucky had been trying to shift.

  "Thirty years." His voice was raw. "And how do we know the other side hasn't been blocked off in all this time? Coulda been a rockslide on that end—we may not be able to get out beneath Skull Rock from here at all!"

  "Easy, John." Jim Tyler stared up at the pile of boulders and rocks that still wedged the cave opening tight as a drum. "If we have to dig our way out the other side, we'll do that too."

  Quinn block
ed out their voices and set his mind and his strength to dismantling the barrier before him. In his mind's eye, all he could see was Maura.

  Dancing with him in the cabin, her auburn hair flying softly in her face. Chatting with him this morning about names for the baby, glancing at him sideways in the wagon, her skin glowing in the sunlight.

  Sewing curtains for the cabin, sweeping it, planting that garden of hers. Working in her quiet way, smiling with the corners of her mouth lifting, her eyes warm and golden and alive.

  All he wanted at that moment was to ride away from Skull Rock with her and bring her safely home.

  Home.

  When had the cabin become home? Somehow, it had. It was more than a collection of logs and odd furniture, a shelter from wind and rain. It was the place where he and Maura had shared meals, worked side by side, made love. It was the place where their child would be born and grow up. A place where they could be together, safe and happy...

  Happy? Since when had he ever been happy?

  Since Maura walked into that saloon in Whisper Valley and commandeered his life, that's when. Since the first time he'd noticed the gentleness of her touch—the kindness of her smile. Perhaps since the moment she'd set their first simple meal on the table of the cabin on Sage Creek and worried herself over Lucky Johnson.

  He wanted to take her home, dance with her, love her, spend the rest of his life with her.

  And raise their child with her.

  He thought of all the days and nights he'd wasted, yearning for freedom, for what lay beyond the next rise, the next valley, the next sunrise. When all he wanted or needed had been right under the cabin's sloping roof all along.

  When he thought of her up there on Skull Rock with Luke, Ned, and Lee, he couldn't bear it. So he thought instead of what he would do to get her free. To bring her home. To hold her safe in his arms again.

  He pictured Luke, Ned, and Lee Campbell as he tore at the rocks. And knew that no matter what else happened, the Campbells had touched her, hurt her, scared her, and they weren't getting out of the canyon alive.

  Minutes ticked by and the men of Hope worked side by side, quietly, fiercely, frantically.

  Quinn Lassiter, who had never asked anyone for anything, who had never lent himself to being part of any team, or worked any way but alone, struggled and sweated and swore right alongside them.

  And every second that he did, with each rock lifted, rolled, pushed, or hauled aside, he did something else that he was not known to do.

  He prayed.

  Chapter 33

  With luminous splendor, the sun was sinking behind Skull Rock. Plumes of pale pink and violet blazed across the sky like delicate muted ribbons laced with gold.

  The Campbells made their camp on a tiny gray ledge at the mountain's peak. A half-dozen trees and some scrub brush dotted the bleak clearing. A solitary snake slithered over the rough ground and disappeared behind a rock, but there was no other sign of life.

  Beyond the lip of the ledge, the long, shallow canyon glowed purple in the dying sunlight.

  There was a campfire, and it was several feet beyond the flames that Maura and Nell huddled together, as far as they could get from where the Campbells were dishing out beans and jerky from a rusted pot.

  From where they sat, they could see the rim of the ledge and the vast canyon stretching out for miles in every direction—as well as every trail winding through it. The trails were all empty.

  No sign of a rider, of any human movement. Just a pair of rabbits skittering here, an elk poised there on a high rock in solitary majesty before darting into thick brush. A grizzly showed itself once on a trail high along a red crevice, then it lumbered away down a winding path that led away from Skull Rock.

  It was so quiet, Maura could hear her own breath catching in her throat. Nell's muted whimpers mingled softly with the wind sighing through the tall rocks.

  "Nell. Nell, listen to me." It was hard to turn, with her hands tied behind her back, as were Nell's, but Maura shifted her body so that she could look into the other girl's pale, terrified face. "It's going to be all right."

  She spoke in a whisper, praying the outlaws wouldn't hear. The last thing she wanted to do was draw their attention.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that they were still shoveling down their beans and jerky. Ned drank thirstily from a flask, then handed it to Luke, while Lee scraped the last of the beans from the pan onto his metal plate.

  "How can you say that it's going to be all right?" Nell gasped. "We're going to die up here. Or worse."

  A shudder shook the girl's shoulders and made her lips twitch. "The whole time we were riding here, that animal kept telling me what he was going to do to me once Quinn Lassiter was taken care of."

  "Well, he's not going to get the chance. Quinn will take care of him—or we will!"

  Maura prayed she sounded more confident than she felt. The helplessness of her position, her hunger, thirst, and weakness were gnawing away at the vestiges of hope she'd been clinging to all through the ordeal. As the day ebbed and there was no sign of Quinn, her spirits sank along with the glowing sun.

  "We must try to stay calm and think clearly no matter what happens," she whispered to Nell. "If we get any kind of a chance, we'll have to act on it quickly."

  "Chance? What kind of a chance will we get?"

  "Feel around the ground and try to find a stone. I did. I'm scraping it against this damn rope. If we could get free—"

  "They'll catch us," Nell gasped, looking too terrified even to think about escaping. "They'll kill us like they killed my father—"

  "You don't know that they killed your father. I didn't hear any gunshots before we left, did you?"

  Dazedly, Nell shook her head. Maura saw a thin light of hope struggle within her eyes.

  "Quinn is going to appear at the canyon's edge any moment now and I'm not going to sit here and let them pick him off." Maura was speaking so softly, Nell had to lean sideways to hear her, but her words were forceful nevertheless.

  "I'm going to get free."

  She bit her lip as the stone scraped her flesh once more, as it had a dozen times since she'd begun working at the rope. Resolutely she continued chafing it back and forth. She thought the bonds were beginning to fray, that the rope was giving slightly as she struggled against it. But it wasn't weakened enough yet...

  The flicker of hope grew stronger in Nell's eyes. She swallowed hard and squared her shoulders, and Maura saw her body shift as the girl began exploring the earth behind her in search of a stone. "I'd like to at least hurt Lee and Ned Campbell and hurt them bad before they...they..." She broke off. "Found one."

  For several moments they worked in silence, concentrating on the thick bonds cutting into their flesh, driving the sharp edge of the stones again and again across the rope.

  Maura kept scanning the canyon, searching out every trail, every nook and cranny. Still no sign of Quinn.

  The Campbells finished their meal, licked their fingers, drank coffee. Luke Campbell tossed the dregs of his cup onto the ground and stood up. To Maura's dismay, he turned and looked at her, then started forward across the ledge.

  " 'Pears your husband's a yellow-bellied coward, ma'am. If you were my woman, a sweet, pretty little thing like you, I'd come after you no matter what the odds, honey lamb."

  "Quinn is going to kill you," Maura said quietly, meeting his gaze. She hoped he couldn't hear the wild thudding of her heart. "You must know that. If you're smart, you'll head out of here now and leave us be. That might be the only way you keep on living."

  "You talk too much." He reached down, grabbed her arm and yanked her up so roughly, Maura yelped. The stone dropped from her aching fingers and she heard it tumble to the ground. She also felt the little derringer Serena had given her bump against her thigh as Luke pulled her close. She held her breath and prayed he couldn't feel the gun against him. To distract him, she kept on talking.

  "I mean it. If you go now, you just m
ight have a chance—"

  "Maybe that's why Lassiter doesn't care if we rape you and kill you. 'Cuz you talk his damned ear off." He spun her around, dragged her to the very edge of Skull Rock, so close that her toes brushed the empty air at the rim.

  "You see him? Anywhere?" His laughter rang cruelly in her ears, even as his fingers dug into her flesh. "He don't care what the hell we do to you, lady. Or he's too chicken to try to stop us."

  "Don't hurt her." Nell spoke up in a breathless little voice. She was trying to struggle to her knees despite her bound hands. "She's carrying a child!"

  "Yeah—Lassiter's child," the outlaw snarled. "Well, we'll just see about that."

  Icy terror bubbled in Maura's throat as she scanned the silent, empty canyon with its ridges and sagebrush, its bowed trees and stark rocks. She turned her head slowly, blearily, and stared into Campbell's eyes.

  "What... did my husband do to you that you hate him so?" she managed to ask between dry lips. If she could keep him talking, it would give them time.

  Time? For what? Quinn wasn't even in view at the farthest edge of the canyon. He could never get here before the sun went down. She'd lost the stone, the bonds were still clamped in place, and the hopelessness of the situation descended upon her even as the shadows drifted down over the canyon in shades of lavender and amethyst.

  "He turned me in to the law, that's what he did! No one ever tracked me down before—or had the guts to try to bring me in. I killed some people, you see." Luke smiled then, a cold, pale smile that made him look like a straw-haired devil. "A homesteading family that took me in one night during a storm. They had money, gold, some silver. Guess I didn't have to kill 'em, but I had some liquor in me and got carried away. Spent five years in prison for it. Five years! You know what that's like, Mrs. Lassiter? Any idea what that does to a man?"

  "N-no. But now that you're out, I'd think you'd want to stick to the straight and narrow and not risk—"