“You know this place?” Nate asked.
“Yeah, but never been in that cave. No idea how big it is."
“I’ll let you know,” Nate said. He walked toward the cliff wondering if he could force himself inside the yawning abyss.
Gabe followed and they circled to avoid observation from the opening should Ingles be watching. They moved as silently as possible for two men in western boots over rocky terrain. When they were beside the entrance, they paused to listen. Nate heard shouts, but couldn’t understand the words. He held the gun and Gabe drew his own from its holster.
Suddenly Joe cried out as if he had been hurt. Nate lost all thought for his personal demons. Forced to stoop to fit through the small tunnel-like entrance, he almost crawled for five feet. Suddenly the burrow widened and he stepped into the cavern. After the bright sunlight outside, the shadowy recesses blinded him. He had time to register two figures before he heard a gunshot. The force of the bullet turned him as he felt the white-hot sting in his shoulder.
Before Nate or Gabe could return the fire, Ingles grabbed Joe and held him as a shield. Ingles pointed a gun at Nate while his other arm imprisoned the youngster’s neck.
“Drop your guns or I’ll kill the kid.”
Nate’s fury fueled emotions so violent they shocked him. Never had he been a violent man. Even when he killed the man in Arkansas it was only in self-defense, more a reaction to attack than aggression. Now he wanted to shoot Ingles, to watch him die for all he had put Joe through, all the terror he still forced on the boy. But he was no gunman and feared his shot would strike Joe instead.
Nate’s mind saw the scene as if he were not a participant in the bizarre drama. A single lantern glowed on a boulder. He absorbed the dank smell, registered the whiskey bottles scattered across the ground, the half empty one beside the lamp. Ingles’s wild gaze darted from Gabe to Nate.
Joe sniffled and his wide eyes implored Nate. “Nate?” he called in a hoarse whisper. The sound of Joe’s voice after so many weeks of silence startled Nate.
The villain struck Joe with the gun. “Stop yer whinin’, brat. You’d best go back to not talkin’.”
Rage clouded Nate’s judgment and he almost rushed Ingles, but his partner tried reason.
Gabe’s calm voice remained level. “Drop the gun and release Joe. You won’t get away, Ingles, so make it easier on yourself.”
“You bastards have ruined my plan,” Ingles shouted. “Now you have to die.”
Nate followed Gabe’s lead in spite of his unreasonable desire to strangle Ingles with his bare hands. “See reason, man. Give up.”
“If you make a move, I’ll kill the kid. I’ll throw him off the ledge.”
For the first time Nate saw the inky black of nothingness behind Ingles. “Look, I know you want money,” Nate said. “The Kincaids are wealthy. They’ll reward you if you return Joe to them unharmed.”
Ingles took a step backward. “They would have paid plenty if you two hadn’t shown up. I had plans for those kids, all three of ‘em. If those swells wouldn’t pay, I’d sell the brats in Mexico. Now you’ve ruined everything.”
The man fired once more and took another step back, dragging Joe with him. He stood only inches from the edge.
“It’s all your fault things went wrong. I had it planned out good. I’ll make you sorry you ever crossed Reuben Ingles ‘n then I’ll deal with those rich folks. Drop your guns and step over to the edge here. Do it now.”
Gabe and Nate exchanged looks. Gabe dropped his gun. Nate made a show of dropping his, then they both lunged for Joe. Nate felt Joe’s shirt slip from his grasp as Ingles stepped back. Joe reached for Nate and mere inches separated their hands before Ingles pulled Joe over the edge. Ingles’ scream echoed through the cavern and Nate fell to his knees in defeat.
“No!” Nate shouted in despair.
So close, he’d almost snatched Joe. Sorrow and anger overwhelmed him. When the last reverberation of Ingles’ cry died, Nate lay with his head on his arms. Tears ran down his cheeks. Joe had trusted him. He failed Joe, and it had cost the boy his life.
Through the silence, soft sobs caught Nate’s attention. He inched to the precipice and looked over the edge. Nothing showed in the ebony depths, but he heard muffled whimpers below. He rose and staggered to the lantern and returned to the rim. Nate extended the light over the edge. Joe lay on a narrow shelf about fifteen feet down. The boy’s leg stuck out at a crazy angle. There was no sign of Ingles.
“N...Nate?” Joe tried to turn and moaned at the effort.
“Joe,” Nate called. “How bad are you hurt?” And how could he get to him?
“Can’t bend my leg or raise my arm.”
“Hang on, son. Don’t try to move. We’ll get you out of there.”
Gabe said, “You talk to the kid and keep him still. I’ll get the rope from Storm’s saddle.”
He left and Nate reassured Joe that help would soon reach him. Gabe returned with a pair of leather gloves and a rope he tied to a large boulder. He fed the line to Nate who made a loop and drew it around his waist.
Gabe looked up and down Nate’s frame and frowned. “Damn, Nate. You’re gushing blood top and bottom.”
Nate looked at his shoulder. A growing crimson stain spread across the shirt. He pressed a handkerchief to the wound.
Gabe inspected Nate’s back. “Looks like that one is clean through the top of your shoulder, but I meant the one in your leg."
Nate glanced at the hole in his thigh where blood spread in a sticky flow. “Guess he got me again with his last shot.” His attention had been so focused on saving Joe he hadn’t felt the slug hit him.
Gabe removed his string tie and took out a handkerchief. He pressed the linen square to the wound on Nate’s leg to staunch the flow, then used the tie to wrap as a tourniquet.
“That’ll do for now,” Nate said. “I have to get to Joe.” He gave the line a test tug to make sure the rock and knot would hold his weight.
“Man, you’re in no condition. Let me.”
“No, I have to help Joe. I don’t even know where we are. Couldn’t go for help if we need it.” Nate tested the rope to be sure the rock would hold his weight. Facing the dark abyss made him dizzy with fear. Sweat poured across his brow and he thought he might throw up. He had to do it, though, had to rescue his boy.
Gabe nodded and pulled on the gloves. “I expect the posse is on its way by now. They should be able to follow our trail.” Gabe set the lantern near the edge and guided the line while Nate slid over into the chasm.
Clearing the lip of the cave floor and edging down, Nate thought he might pass out. He forced himself to look directly in front of him, to pretend the wall jutted from firm ground outside with sunshine all around.
“N-Nate?” Joe asked.
Nate looked down and regretted it. He fought the wave of nausea sweeping over him, battled to remain conscious.
“I’m coming, son. We’ll get you out of here.” He felt his feet touch the shelf and sank beside Joe. As he did so, a chunk of ledge broke off and dropped into the nothingness. Not enough light spilled over from above for him to see clearly. He touched Joe gently.
“How bad are you hurt?”
Nate ran his fingers lightly over the arm. He felt the limb and up to the shoulder where it felt as if the arm had pulled out of the socket. He traced the leg and discovered the break there.
“The arm’s not broken but it will take Pearl or the doc to fix it. Leg’s broken. How about the rest of you?” Nate asked.
“Guess I’m banged up some.”
From above Gabe called, “How is he?”
“Broken leg and dislocated arm.” Nate slipped the rope from his body and dropped it over Joe. He widened it and carefully worked it under the boy’s arms, being gentle with the injured limb, then tightened the loop. The movement caused another large chunk of the shelf to break away.
Nate yelled up, “He’s ready to come up.” To Joe he said, “Use your go
od leg and arm to push away from the rock so you don’t bounce against it.”
He tried to brace Joe’s body to lessen the pain. As the rope tightened, Joe gave an agonizing cry. His injured limbs dangled helplessly.
Gabe asked, “You want to wait until I can get help and send down a stretcher?”
“Can’t wait,” Nate said. “Shelf’s breaking away each time I move. Soon there’ll be nothing left.”
“I can do it,” Joe said.
“I know you can. You’re a brave boy. Gabe is going to lift you up. All you have to do is brace yourself.”
“What about you?” Joe asked.
“Soon as you get up there, Gabe will take the rope off you and send it back down for me.”
Nate watched Joe inch up. He felt dizzy again, so he sat down. Gabe pulled the boy to safety then leaned over the rim to talk to Nate.
From a thousand miles away Gabe called, “Here comes the rope. Let me know when to pull you up.”
Nate couldn’t focus. He heard more rock give way. Only a few feet remained, not even enough for him to lie down. Lying down sounded real good.
“Nate, grab the rope,” Gabe shouted. “Nate!
Chapter Fifteen
Nate fought the fog closing in on him. Why was it so dark? The coffin! He had to get out. Something hit his chest and he batted it away. Sound penetrated the haze smothering his brain. Someone shouted his name. He forced himself to concentrate on the words. His name...who called his name?
He focused and realized faint light spilled from above. Silhouetted against the glow over the rim, Gabe dangled a line which hit Nate’s chest again. His fingers closed around the rope’s loop, and the rough hemp rasped against his skin. He tried to rise, but his injury-weakened limbs failed him.
A large section of his resting place disappeared and he almost fell with it. He listened for the sound of rock crashing against the chasm floor. Seconds ticked by before he heard the thuds far below. Only a two-foot space remained to spare him the same fate. His legs hung from the narrow bench, dangling into hell yawning below him.
This time he wouldn’t cheat death. The scent of his life’s blood soaking his clothing taunted him. Even the small amount of energy required to secure himself in the hemp’s circle of safety eluded him. At least he’d saved Joe. Even if he wouldn’t see the boy grow to manhood, the evil Ingles would never bother Joe or Sarah again.
Dear God, help me! Happiness had been so close. He squeezed his eyes shut, yet saw Sarah’s beautiful face as clearly as if she stood before him. In his mind’s eye her perfect rosebud mouth smiled and parted for his kiss.
No! He wouldn’t give her up, not yet.
He heard Joe’s faint call, “What’s happening?”
Gabe muttered something, then shouted, “Nate, put the rope around you. Now, Nate, now!”
With a final thrust, he pulled the loop around his body and the last part of the rock shelf crumbled. He fell!
Heart-stopping seconds passed, then his body snapped as the rope jerked taut and he dangled like a clock’s pendulum. He prayed for all his worth, prayed for his sorry life as he swayed in mid air--that the rope around the boulder held against his dead weight, that the boulder securing it didn’t dislodge.
“Nate, why aren’t you up here?” Joe asked.
Joe’s newfound voice wavered as if from fear, but Nate couldn’t answer. The rope squeezed all air from his lungs. He heard Gabe reassure Joe but couldn’t decipher the words. Pain and fatigue pushed all response from his mind.
Gabe hauled him upward, but Nate hadn’t the strength to help. Each ragged wrench banged his body against protruding rocks. The rope bit into his flesh as he swung and crashed in a slow ascent toward safety. When he reached the edge, Gabe dragged him over, then dropped cross-legged beside him in obvious exhaustion.
“I sure thought you were done for.” Gabe gasped and wiped a hand across his face as if to blot out the thought.
“Me, too,” Nate answered, his voice croaking from a sandpapery throat and mouth dry as a desert. “Thanks. Couldn’t help. Guess lost more blood ‘n I thought. Weak as kitten. Chest hurts like sonofabitch.”
“Rope probably broke some ribs when you fell. Bad jolt when the ledge broke off. Damn near lost you and me both.” He helped remove the rope from around Nate’s chest. Looking as weary and frightened as Nate felt, Gabe ran a hand through his hair and said, “As God is my witness, I didn’t think I could pull you up those last few feet.”
Nate tried to stand but fell back to the cave floor. He crawled to where Joe lay and Joe stretched out a hand to meet his. He cradled the boy against him.
“You’re safe now, son.”
Gabe stood. “Neither of you can ride.” He covered them with a dirty blanket he found with Ingles’s things in the corner. “I’ll go for help. Be back soon as I can.”
After Gabe left, Joe looked at the edge of the cave floor and shuddered. “Is...is he...?”
“Yes, he can’t hurt you again.” Nate patted Joe gently.
Joe sobbed, “I’m glad. I hated him. He hurt my mama real bad. That’s why she died. He was always hittin’ her.”
“Soon you’ll be with your new mother. She’ll take good care of you and love you so much you’ll forget all the bad things that have happened. Don’t ever forget your real mama, though.”
“I don’t think I can forget any of this.” Joe tried to curl himself against Nate, then winced and moaned.
“Don’t try to move yet, son,” Nate said and inched closer to shield the boy. “Guess you won’t forget completely, but in time it will dim in your mind so it’s not so frightening. The Kincaids will make sure you have lots of good memories to crowd out the bad ones, make them seem less important.”
“Maybe they can help you have good memories, too. You know, so you won’t have those nightmares you told me about.”
“Wish they could, but I won’t be around that long. Don’t forget I’ll have to leave in another week or so.”
“I wish you’d be my pa,” Joe sobbed.
Nate felt like weeping with him. “I do too, but I can’t.”
“I promise I’d be real good and do lots of extra chores for you. I bet Luke and Cindy would, too.”
“Son, it’s not that I don’t want to. Guess I’ll always think of you three as my own youngsters.”
“Then why don’t you marry Miss Sarah and we could be a real family? Don’t you love her?”
“Yes, I suppose I do.” The knowledge came as a shock to him. It didn’t make things any easier. Nate wished it was simple, but things had become too complicated. “You know your stepfather was bad and that Gabe and Storm and Drake are good men?”
“Yes.” Joe sniffed and rubbed his good arm across his face.
“Well, I’m not a good man like the Kincaids. I’m not as bad as Ingles, but I’ve done bad things. It’s too late for me. Promise you’ll always be good. Make the Kincaids proud of you.”
“I’ll try, but I wish you’d stay. You could say you’re sorry if you did something bad.”
Saying you’re sorry after stealing folks’ money wouldn’t make much difference. Maybe they’d wait for the trial before they hanged you was all.
Last night Monk and Hargrove collected amounts of money that staggered Nate’s imagination. Hargrove was right when he said Kincaid Springs had lots of wealthy residents. He could talk Monk into helping him get rid of Hargrove, but the chances of Nate’s plan succeeding were slim. He exhaled and sucked air at the pain. Best to concentrate on the problem here and now.
“How’re you doing, Joe?” he asked.
“I’m scared. Reckon I’ll ever be able to walk again?”
Nate smoothed the hair from Joe’s face. “Of course, but not for a few weeks while your leg heals. Good thing your Aunt Pearl knows lots of medicines to speed up healing.”
“She’s my aunt? Guess I never thought of that.”
“You’ve got a big family now, son. They all love you and want to help
you however they can.”
“You think I could call Miss Sarah my mama?” Joe asked.
“I think she’d like that a lot. She’ll be real happy you can talk again, too.”
***
Waiting in town, Sarah fumed and fussed at the delay while the sheriff gathered a posse. How long must she wait, could she afford to wait? What if Nate and Gabe hadn’t found Joe? She paced, worry making her frantic.
“Now, Sarah, you’ve got to be patient,” Grandpa said. “Ben is a good man, but he has his way of doing things. I’ll take Luke and Cindy home with me. They can make use of the playroom.”
“Thank you.” She bent and gave each child a hug, then cupped each child’s chin. Luke and Cindy were in tears and she had no words to reassure them yet. “Be good for Grandpa. I’ll see you as soon as I find Nate and Gabe and we get Joe back.”
She watched them walk away with a breaking heart. What if they failed? After all they had lost, how would she tell Luke and Cindy if they lost the boy who’d become a brother? Storm stood at her side, the reins of Grandpa’s horse in his hand.
She looked up at her brother. “If I follow you, we can find them. You’re the best tracker of anyone in town.”
“We should wait for Drake. He’s on his way.” Storm looked toward the end of town. “I see him now.”
After conferring with Drake, Storm and Sarah set out on their own. Drake promised to light a fire under the sheriff and his posse and follow close on their trail.
Storm led, holding his speed to allow Sarah in the slower moving wagon always to keep him in sight. The trail kept to the road only a short distance before going off across open range. At least the wagon’s trail would be easy for Drake to follow.
She spotted a lone rider coming toward them. “Isn’t that Gabe?” she yelled at her brother.
Storm dropped back beside her. “Yes, and riding as if the hounds of hell are nipping at his heels.”
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