by Carol Finch
Raven cursed James to hell and back while his stepbrother tossed Eva over the bay’s back. Before Raven could go for his pistol to take a shot that was risky at best, James bounded up behind her then jerked her up in front of him like a shield once again.
The bay gelding shifted beneath the additional weight of the second rider, but he quieted when he turned his head to sniff Eva’s leg. This was one time Raven wished the contrary bay would buck and send James flying through the air. Raven was pretty sure he could draw his pistol and fire two shots into the bastard before he hit the ground.
“If you can distract him for a moment I’ll try to wing him,” Blackowl said in Cheyenne.
“Speak English!” James ordered brusquely. “And no funny business or she’s dead. You understand, Raven? No matter what else happens here tonight, she dies, if for no other reason than you want her to survive.”
A sense of impending doom descended on Raven as raindrops splattered around him. Even though the bay gelding tossed his head when James jerked roughly on the reins, the horse backed behind the shanty so James could blend into the inky shadows.
“Three days,” James called out in the darkness. “That’s all the time you get.”
“Tell Lydia that I said she is not to give this son of a bitch one red cent—awk!”
Raven cringed when Eva’s voice fizzled out. No doubt, James had twisted her leather collar, making it difficult for her to breathe or speak.
“I hated that bastard the first time I met him,” Raven muttered to Blackowl.
“So did I,” Blackowl muttered back. “Now what do you want to do?”
“Besides skin him alive, you mean?”
“That goes without saying,” Blackowl snorted. “Unfortunately, that will have to wait.”
Never in his adult life had Raven felt so helpless or vulnerable. He wanted to race after James, who skulked along the back side of the bordellos and shops in town, making himself an impossible target of gunfire. Ordinarily Raven’s policy was to give chase, despite the voiced threats. He was usually able to strike fear in the hearts of his fugitives, even when they held a hostage.
However, this was different. This was personal. His adversary was James Archer, who was using Eva as his shield of defense.
Raven and James shared a mutual hatred that dated back fifteen years. If James suspected that Raven had developed a personal interest in Eva then he would delight in using it against him. It was next to impossible for Raven to be objective when every troubled thought and turbulent emotion centered on ensuring Eva’s safety.
Plus, she was daring and defiant enough to take dangerous risks, he reminded himself. That scared the living daylights out of him.
He sat atop his horse, pounded by rain. He was uncertain what to do next, and he had never had trouble acting under pressure—until now. Raven was shocked to realize that he was terrified. He’d almost forgotten what that felt like. But he remembered now.
Chapter Fourteen
“I can follow the bastard at a distance to see where he stashes Eva,” Blackowl volunteered as he stared into the rain and the darkness. “You can fetch the ransom money from the stage station and bring it to your cabin.”
Raven shook himself from his tormented trance. He couldn’t leave Eva behind. Already he was haunted by the fear that he had seen her alive for the very last time.
He forced himself to draw in a fortifying breath, then another. “You go fetch the ransom from Lydia,” Raven requested. “James is my stepbrother. I’ll track the spiteful son of a bitch myself.”
“Raven? Is that you?”
He dragged his gaze away from the shadowed silhouettes in the mist then half twisted in the saddle to see Frank Albers and Irving Jarmon trotting toward him.
“Glad you’re here,” Frank said, out of breath. “I guess you finally caught up with your wife. We owed her a favor so we kept an eye on her as best we could until you got here.”
Raven divided his attention between his fleeing stepbrother and the two gamblers he’d met on the stagecoach. “What favor are you talking about?”
“We nearly got ourselves hanged this afternoon,” Irving explained. “Eva came to our rescue. When she said she was following the man who took potshots at her, we came along.”
“You were the two men about to be hanged?” Blackowl asked.
Remembering his manners, Raven gestured toward his cousin. “Frank Albers and Irving Jarmon, this is Blackowl.”
The men nodded in greeting then Frank glanced this way and that. “Where’s Eva?”
“Kidnapped,” Raven growled sourly. “Why weren’t you helping her apprehend the bushwhacker after she saved your necks?”
“We offered,” Irving defended quickly. “She said she’d give a shout if she needed our help.”
Raven squeezed his eyes shut and cursed the image that rose in his mind’s eye. Eva was entirely too independent. Hell, she even lit out from the cabin without waiting for him and Blackowl. Why?
“What can we do to help?” Frank asked earnestly.
“I’m not sure you can because I have no guarantee that two cheating gamblers who barely missed a lynching are trustworthy enough to fetch the ransom money that Eva’s abductor demands,” Raven grumbled.
Frank squared his thin-bladed shoulders and met Raven’s hard stare. “I may be a lot of things, Raven, but I honor a debt when someone spares my life. If you want me to deliver ransom money to save Eva then I’ll do it.”
“And I’ll help him,” Irving chimed in. “We owe her and that makes all the difference.”
Raven cast a quick glance toward the far end of town as raindrops continued to soak his clothing, leaving him cold, inside and out. “All right. We can use the assistance. Blackowl will explain the details of the demands and give you directions to my cabin.” He glanced at his cousin. “You can catch up with me later. I’ll make sure you have a trail to follow.”
Raven turned to bear down on the gamblers like the dark angel of doom. “If you try to double-cross me for the ransom money I will personally hunt you down,” he snarled.
“And I’ll be right beside him,” Blackowl vowed fiercely.
“There will be no place you can hide that I won’t find you.” Same went for James Archer, but Raven hadn’t had the chance to issue that deadly promise. “Do I make myself clear?”
Irving and Frank both gulped hard then nodded their heads vigorously.
Assured that the two men knew he was dead serious, Raven reined his paint pony through the middle of town. He didn’t slow his pace, just dodged the drunken pedestrians who stumbled around in the rain. Raven wasn’t sure where James planned to stash his captive, but he intended to be nearby, waiting for his stepbrother to make a careless mistake.
Swearing profusely, Raven focused on the fleeing twosome illuminated by a flash of lightning. Guilt and regret pummeled him as he trailed them at a discreet distance. If he hadn’t called out to Eva at that critical moment, she wouldn’t be embroiled in this disaster. Unfortunately, he had been so relieved to find her that he had reacted without thinking.
Then his worst nightmare unfolded when he realized his stepbrother was using the name of Gordon Carter to extort money from unsuspecting women.
“Damn it to hell,” he muttered as he watched the twosome gallop uphill toward Hell’s Corner. The prospect of seeing Eva perish at James Archer’s spiteful hands drove Raven as close to loco as he ever wanted to come.
Lydia silently fumed as she paced the floorboards. She reread the ransom note delivered a quarter of an hour earlier that evening. “Curse you to hell and back, Gordon!”
Dear God, she thought apprehensively. Eva was in fatal danger because of Lydia’s foolish romantic impulsiveness. It was bad enough that she had fallen victim to Gordon’s scheme. He had humiliated her to the extreme. But to place Eva’s life in jeopardy in order to avenge Lydia’s embarrassment? That was unacceptable. Lydia couldn’t bear the thought of losing her sister as a sacrifice for r
estoring her pride and honor.
Whirling around, Lydia darted toward the back door then jogged to the stables to fetch a mount. She hesitated, uncertain which horse to ride since that low-down lying extortionist she thought she loved had stolen Hodge. Finally, Lydia decided to take the spirited black gelding that was Eva’s favorite mount.
Wearing the same male attire Eva favored, Lydia rode bareback to the Philberts’ estate. Despite the late hour, she hammered loudly on the door. Roger appeared a few moments later with Sadie a step behind him.
“Are you all right?” he asked in concern as he surveyed what had become her everyday attire.
“No,” she muttered angrily.
“Come in, Lydia.” Sadie swerved around her brother to grab her arm and guide her to the parlor. “What’s wrong now?”
“Only everything!” she wailed. “I’ve killed my sister!”
“What!” the Philbert twins howled in horror.
Lydia thrust the ransom note at Roger. “I might as well have killed her. Eva struck off to avenge my humiliation of falling prey to that shyster who stole my money and left me stranded in the middle of nowhere.” The embarrassing tale poured out of her in fits and starts—in between inconsolable sobs. “Now Gordon has somehow managed to take Eva hostage. I have no idea where they are or what happened to that bounty hunter she married. He might even be in on this scheme for all I know!”
Panic and fear gushed through her, causing the room to spin wildly around her. Lydia staggered shakily then clutched Roger’s arm for support. “I’ve lost them all. First Mama then Papa and now Eva,” she whimpered desolately.
Before she wilted into a heap on the floor Roger scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa. By the time he laid her down, she was bleeding so many tears that the twins were a blurred image swimming before her eyes.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Sadie tried to reassure her as she patted her arm.
“No, it won’t,” Lydia said between shuddering gulps. “I’ve lost everyone I care deeply about.”
“We’ll find Eva.” Roger handed her a glass of brandy. “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”
“Nothing will make me feel better,” she muttered but she took a sip nonetheless—and nearly choked on the strong liquor. Then she took another drink that went down easier the second time so she helped herself to another.
“According to this missive, you are to deliver thirty thousand dollars to the same stage station where I picked up your abandoned buggy,” Roger said.
Lydia knew he was trying to distract her from bawling her head off all over again. It worked to some extent, but she was so frightened and concerned about Eva’s safety that she was still shaking uncontrollably. She reminded herself that Eva wouldn’t fall apart like this and neither should she. But her sister was the one who usually took charge. She had to pull herself together, for Eva’s sake!
“First thing in the morning Roger will go to your bank and withdraw the money, won’t you, Roger?” Sadie insisted.
“Certainly.” He smiled encouragingly as he clasped Lydia’s hand tightly in his. “Then I will ride out to the stage station to drop off the pouch of money at the designated location.”
Lydia wiped the tears from her cheeks then levered herself up on a wobbly elbow. “I’m coming with you.”
“Whatever you wish,” Roger agreed. “But for now, you should get some sleep. You can stay with us tonight.”
“No!” Lydia bolted upright. “I have to be at home, in case I receive more instructions. In case…” She flicked her wrist to dismiss the grim thought that descended on her. She might receive the dreadful news that Eva had not survived this calamity. A calamity that Lydia had caused.
The thought put her in tears again, despite her attempt to become as strong as Eva had always been in a crisis.
“Fine, then we will stay with you tonight.” Roger hoisted Lydia to her feet. He turned back to his sister. “Sadie, can you pack an overnight bag while I fetch the buggy?”
When Sadie dashed off, Roger led Lydia outside. She was too distraught to object to being led around like a child and carted home. Eva wouldn’t have stood for it because she was the strongest, most determined female Lydia had ever met. And by damned, Lydia would follow her example to do her sister proud. No more dramatics. No more useless tears. She was already the spitting image of her older sister and she would learn to match her determination and fortitude, too.
Lydia inhaled a restorative breath and squared her shoulders while she waited for Roger to hitch up the buggy. During the short ride home Lydia marshaled her self-confidence and courage. If she had the opportunity to confront Gordon, she would deal severely with that conniving bastard. She would repay him for every humiliation she had suffered and for every ounce of concern for Eva’s welfare.
She felt ten times better when she visualized taking a shotgun in hand and blasting that scoundrel full of buckshot. As Eva was fond of saying, most men had no particular use other than for target practice. Which reminded her that she should save a couple of bullets for that incompetent bounty hunter who had married Eva. Apparently, he wasn’t man enough to protect her from harm—or he was using her for his own devious purposes.
Eva cursed herself up one side and down the other as Gordon—or rather James, she silently corrected—carted her uphill during the rainstorm. If she hadn’t become distracted by the unexpected sound of Raven’s voice, none of this would have happened.
Why had he shown up in Satan’s Bluff? she wondered. Because he had three bench warrants in his saddlebag and he decided to track down the men for bounty? Or was it because he was worried about her?
Well, it didn’t matter now, she supposed. She wouldn’t see him again so she couldn’t ask what motivated him. Despite her objections, he was most likely on his way to retrieve the ransom money James Archer demanded.
The thought of her conniving captor made her furious all over again. Her future—or lack thereof—was grim. So why should she be an accommodating hostage? She wouldn’t be rewarded for good behavior, so why should she submit to this heartless scoundrel?
When she squirmed restlessly on the saddle, James gave the leather choke necklace a painful twist. Cursing him soundly, Eva struggled to draw breath. She retaliated by upraising her bound hands to clobber James in the face.
“You vicious little hellion,” he growled as he held his bleeding nose. “I ought to—”
Sizzling lightning flared in the darkness and struck a tree on the west side of the trail, interrupting his threat. Deafening thunder exploded overhead. Eva took it as a sign to attempt escape. She knew how the bay gelding would react to the sound effects of the storm if she didn’t pat his neck reassuringly. Therefore, she made no effort to calm him, just waited for him to bolt sideways in alarm.
The instant the wild-eyed horse reared up Eva flung herself from the saddle, catching James off guard. She bit back a wail of pain when she landed on her shoulder, but she rolled away from the flailing hooves before her horse unintentionally trampled her.
James swore furiously as he struggled to keep his seat on the bucking horse. When he swung his arm wildly, slapping the horse on the head, she cursed his cruelty and remembered how he had beaten Hodge. Eva silently cheered when the bay gelding ducked his head between his front legs and kicked up his back hooves again. The sight of James soaring through the air to splatter into the mud was gratifying.
Taking advantage of James’s graceless sprawl, Eva bounded to her feet and raced off in the direction they had come.
“Come back here, damn you!” James roared as he scraped himself off the ground to give chase.
When he snarled so close behind her, she wheeled abruptly to strike him with her bound hands again. She heard the crunch of bone and knew she had broken his nose with the hard blow.
He howled in outrage, cursed her foully and covered his nose with his hand.
Eva darted sideways when he tried to backhand her. The glan
cing blow tossed her off balance momentarily but she uprighted herself. When he grabbed her forearm, she wheeled around to kick him squarely in the crotch.
James gasped in pained fury as he hit his knees. He stopped chasing her all right. She had granted herself a head start. But he resorted to firing wildly with the six-shooter. Frantic, Eva ducked then glanced around to determine where her horse had gotten off to. Even when a flash of lightning illuminated the rain-drenched trail, she didn’t see her horse.
Curse it, Raven was right, she realized. He claimed a horse wasn’t completely trained until it came when you whistled. If the horse could answer her call she could leave James far behind—and run right over the heartless bastard on her way by.
Her spiteful thoughts scattered when another shot rang out. Eva flattened herself on the ground—a moment too late. The bullet grazed her shoulder, the same one she had injured when she leaped off her horse. Despite the burning pain, Eva surged to her feet and raced downhill as fast as her legs would carry her.
“I’ll shoot to kill!” James raged over the sound of pelting rain. “Don’t think I won’t!”
Eva didn’t slow her swift pace. Although James wasn’t a particularly good marksman, she wasn’t taking any chances. But she did make the careless mistake of glancing over her shoulder to see where he was while she was running at full speed.
She didn’t see the oversize rock on the trail until she stumbled over it. She tried to hurl herself backward to prevent pitching over the crumbling edge of the road. Despite her vow to keep silent so she wouldn’t give away her location to James, a wild shriek flew from her lips when she tumbled down the steep slope.
Desperate, she tried to retreat but her forward momentum left her pinwheeling over boulders and underbrush. Hands still tied, she rolled over the sharp rocks and tried to protect her head from a brain-scrambling blow.
Lightning flashed again and thundered rolled. Eva slammed into an unyielding boulder then moaned when blinding pain exploded in her skull. Her last thought before she blacked out was that James wouldn’t be able to find her in the darkness, not without risking a painful fall himself.