“I got fifty to one. We’ll have to celebrate some way.”
A sullen, subdued Billy joined them.
“What’s wrong? Lose all your money?” George teased. “Johnny picked the winner.”
“I didn’t lose my money.” Billy kicked a tuft of grass.
“Lost your girl?” Johnny slapped him on the back. “Plenty more around.”
“Yeah, course there is. Dropped me for a rich rancher. There’s only one thing he wants from her,” he finished off savagely.
“Don’t talk in front of George like that.”
“Why not? Even she knows rich men seduce our girls then go off and marry their own kind.”
Color surged into her cheeks. No one would know better than me. What had passed between her and Marcus was still a raw, festering wound, which would end up poisoning her whole system if she wasn’t careful. The only grain of comfort she had to cling to was, she now knew for certain, she wasn’t carrying his baby.
Johnny left them to line up for the start of the steeplechase and she and Billy took up a good vantage point. The horses disappeared around the side of a hill and she craned her neck to see what was going on. He had taken a terrible risk by coming here. Her mouth dried up with tension. He acted so recklessly sometimes, almost as if he didn’t care what happened to him anymore.
The horses finally came into sight again. They raced to the first hurdle almost in a bunch, except for two or three stragglers taking up the rear.
“Let’s go down to see the finish. Johnny’s in front I think. Hope he wins.” Putting her fear to one side, she excitedly jigged around.
They hurried toward the finishing line, not daring to take their eyes off the race, in case they missed something. Over the second hurdle and Johnny still led.
At the rails near the finishing line George almost bumped into Marcus.
“How are you, Georgina?”
“As if you care,” she retorted bitterly, before turning her back on him.
“Come on, Johnny, you can do it,” she urged, blinking back hot tears.
“Yeah, show them rich ranchers what we’re made of,” Billy screamed encouragement.
“I do care.” Marcus grabbed her arm and swung her away from Billy.
“I’m not having a baby after all,” she said in a harsh whisper.
“Thank goodness for that. We need to talk, please, Georgina.”
“No. I never want to speak with you again, Marcus.”
The color drained from his face. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked off.
The water jump was coming up now and her muscles tightened with the strain of watching. Billy explained that Johnny had to be the first over the water jump in case some of the horses fell, which they normally did, and brought Johnny down with them.
He was over safely, her madly beating heart returned to its normal rhythm. It was an out and out sprint now and Johnny’s mount surged ahead.
“He did it, he did it.” Billy grasped her by the waist and they did a jig together.
A few minutes later a grinning Johnny joined them. “Told you, didn’t I? First prize is twenty dollars. It was easy beating them,” he gloated, handing the money to George.
“No, I couldn’t take your prize money.”
“Yes, you can, give some of it to McGuire. You and Billy are to buy yourselves something special, I don’t need it.”
Reluctantly she took the money. She would give most of it to McGuire and they would live well for the next few weeks.
Several people came up and clapped Johnny on the back, but dark mutterings came from many others. The ranchers would not forgive or forget what Johnny had done to them today. He had humiliated them, beaten their best horses on a stolen mount. George suddenly shivered in the hot sun.
Marcus strode over to them. “The sheriff and his deputies are here, Valentine. You better leave while you can.”
“Thanks, Lindquist, I owe you.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” George said, but he had already turned on his heel and was striding away, and she did not have time to run after him. Escape was paramount now.
When she started hurrying Johnny pulled her back. “Slow down, we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.” He started whistling tunelessly as he strolled along with his hands dug deeply into his pockets.
“Anyone would think you were out for a Sunday stroll; we ought to hurry.” Billy anxiously voiced her thoughts.
“No need to panic.”
“This place will be crawling with deputies soon,” she warned. Billy looked as worried as her. Only Johnny seemed not to care.
George’s heart pounded so loudly she felt sure some passer-by would hear it. Fear clawed her stomach to shreds when she saw the sheriff striding their way, his hand resting on his holster.
“Through here, Johnny.” A man’s voice beckoned them from inside one of the refreshment tents. “There’s a flap at the back you can get through.”
Hurriedly the three of them entered the tent. There were not many people inside as everyone had left to watch another of the main events.
“Good luck, Johnny.” Someone clapped him on the shoulder and he acknowledged the man with a grin. At the back of the tent they found the open flap. George put her head out first to see if the coast was clear before stepping outside. No one was in sight.
A commotion inside caused George to hesitate, and Billy’s rough shove almost sent her sprawling. “Come on, hurry up, a few cowboys have started a fight as a diversion.”
No need for caution now. They started running, speed was essential if they were to escape. The horses waited patiently where they had been left. Johnny scooped up the reins of his own and George’s while Billy gave her a leg up, and within seconds they galloped away.
“Tarnation. What was that? Billy yelled, and George nearly fell off her horse with shock. Someone was shooting at them. Over the open ground they raced and when Johnny started zigzagging she did likewise. They were all crouched low in the saddle to make themselves as small a target as possible.
There was a sudden volley of shots. One came so close it knocked off her hat and she didn’t have time to retrieve it. They rode desperately, heading for the safety of the trees. In the open country, there was danger even though they were moving targets. A lucky shot could easily bring one of them down.
They galloped flat out until they hit the hills. The roughness of the terrain would slow down their pursuers.
It seemed like hours before Johnny decided they had outrun the law. The horses were breathing heavily by this time and George could feel her shirt clinging damply to her back.
“We’ll lie low for a while then you two head off home.”
“What about you?” George felt her lips tremble as she fought back frightened tears. Surely, he would not do anything rash. He was reckless, but not foolhardy.
“I’ll head for the canyon country. I’ll be safe there until things cool down. I’ve got stores stashed away.”
“You knew this would happen,” she accused. “Going to the races, having the gall to ride in the steeple, it was asking for trouble.”
“I hoped it wouldn’t.” He fanned himself with his hat. “I wasn’t taking any chances, though, that’s why I had an escape route planned.”
“Johnny, why didn’t you stay where you were safe?”
“I missed you.”
She moved her horse closer and leaned across to stroke his cheek. “I’m frightened. You made fools of the sheriff and his posse today. He’ll never forget such an insult.”
Both he and Billy scoffed at her fears. If it weren’t for his father, Billy would have already joined Johnny.
They walked the horses until they came to a small clearing with a stream running through it. Here they dismounted to water and rest their mounts.
Johnny knew the Black Hills well. The posse would never catch him while he remained holed up here. It was only when he came down to the flat country that he courted danger.
>
“Why don’t you leave this place and never come back. I’ll come with you if you like,” she offered.
He did not answer for a time. In fact, she thought he wasn’t going to speak at all.
“I couldn’t let you leave the only home you’ve ever known, to be hunted down like a wild dog.” His voice became bitter. “They’ll never leave me alone, no matter where I go.”
A cold shiver ran through the whole of her body. “Don’t talk like that.”
“It’s true, but I tell you both this: they’ll never take me alive.”
“Johnny!” Fear churned George’s stomach until she felt sick with it. Even Billy was rendered speechless. A strange silence settled over them now, a silence so ominous it felt tangible and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.
“If you want to get home before dark, you better start now,” Johnny said, grinning suddenly and changing the gravity of his features to cheerfulness in a flash. She would never understand him. One minute he seemed bitter and morose at the way fate decreed he must lead his life, then he would become laughing and exuberant. Who was the real Johnny? No one knew. Probably he didn’t really know himself.
They left shortly afterward. George, turning around to wave one last time, thought Johnny looked very young and strangely lonely as he stood beside his horse.
“What did you make of Johnny?” she asked.
“Make of him? What do you mean?”
“He seemed, well, sort of morbid.”
“I know. I felt it, too. I’m frightened for him.” Billy moved his horse closer to hers, so he could pick up her hand. “It’s as if, well, as if…” he had difficulty framing the words.
“He was predicting his own death.” The words fell involuntarily from her mouth.
“You felt it, too? I thought it was only my imagination running wild.”
“Yes, I felt it, Billy.”
Suddenly he spurred his horse into a gallop, leaving her with no alternative except to follow.
“Billy, wait for me.” She heeled her horse into motion and followed him. There was nothing else left to do.
Chapter Eight
They arrived at the cabin to find it in darkness. With no welcoming spiral of smoke, it seemed lonely and somehow forlorn against the backdrop of the now purple hills. Billy leapt from his horse, throwing the reins at George who dismounted more sedately. Where was McGuire? Was he sick? Injured perhaps?
By the time she tethered their mounts, she barely had time to reach the porch before Billy came striding out waving a piece of paper.
“Don’t panic. Pa left us a note, he’s gone to Deadwood.”
“Thank goodness.” She sagged against the porch post in relief. “I thought something bad might have happened.”
“Me, too.” He gave a relieved grin. “I’ll do the milking and bed the horses down, you see to the food.”
George poked her tongue at him.
Once inside, she raked up the fire, which was now stone cold, meaning McGuire must have left not long after they did. She set and re-lit it.
It would have to be beans and ham, which wouldn’t take too long. There was plenty of stale bread they could toast. Billy will grouch, but if he doesn’t like what I’m going to prepare, he can always get his own. She grinned to herself, if there was one chore he hated, it was preparing meals.
They ate in silence. McGuire was not a man who spoke often, yet she missed his presence. Billy seemed too interested in what he shoveled into his mouth to worry about speaking. The way he wolfed his food down, a stranger would think he had not eaten for days.
“You know something?” He emptied his mouth for a moment. “I’ve been thinking, I might go and see Tom in a few weeks. I got a letter the other day and he said he could get me a job on the ranch where he’s working, and maybe we could talk Johnny into coming as well.”
“If he got right away from here, he might be able to make a fresh start. You know something, we should all leave here. Sell the ranch and start afresh somewhere else,” her voice was anguished. “I hate this place sometimes.”
“I always thought you liked it here.” He gazed at her speculatively. Thank goodness, he wasn’t as astute as Johnny.
“I do. Sometimes I like it, other times when things go bad for us, especially for Johnny, I hate it.
Her thoughts turned to Marcus. Would he be entertaining his pretty lady friend? Sipping English tea perhaps? Eating dainty cakes? Maybe she was playing the piano for him.
“George.” Billy snapped his fingers in her face.
“What is it?”
“Did you hear anything?” he asked.
“No, it’s really quiet.”
“Too quiet if you ask me. I’ve got a strange feeling, a horrible prickly sensation at the back of my neck.”
It happened suddenly. The door was shoved open and several men rushed in, guns drawn.
“Get out of this cabin,” Billy yelled, rising from the table.
“Stay where you are,” one of the gunmen said. “So much as twitch and I’ll blow you in two, might save the hangman a job.”
“You have no right bursting in here, harassing innocent folk. I’ll, I’ll, complain to the sheriff,” George threatened indignantly.
“Shut up, gal. It was the sheriff who hired us. Search the place.” The gun slinger barked out his orders causing the men to scatter. Some went outside, others disappeared into the bedrooms and she could hear them rifling through McGuire’s wardrobe.
“What do you want?” George fumed. The gunman was a horrible man with close-set piggy eyes and a dirty, drooping moustache.
“We heard Johnny Valentine was hiding here.”
“Who told you? Some paid informer? Well, he told you wrong, because Johnny isn’t here,” Billy jeered.
“Watch your mouth, boy.”
“Be quiet, Billy. Don’t argue with them.” George glanced at the gunmen who all wore twin guns, and inwardly quaked. “Johnny isn’t here; we haven’t seen him for weeks.”
“Liar. You were both seen with him today at the race meeting, either you tell us what we want to know, or...”
“You’ll what?”
“Stop it, Billy you’re only making things worse.”
“How does jail sound to you?” A couple of the men snickered.
“You can’t take us to jail; we haven’t done anything wrong.” George’s mouth went dry at the prospect. “We don’t know where Johnny is, honestly.”
She debated about squeezing a few tears out of her eyes. It would be useless as these hired guns were hard as granite and Billy’s sneering attitude was doing them no good.
“Nothing.” Each time the men reported the same thing.
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know, honestly.” She deliberately injected a servile note in her voice, inwardly raging. Overbearing oaf.
“You’d better come along into town with us, boy, for further questioning.”
“Go to blazes,” Billy yelled.
George watched in horror as one of the gunmen advanced threateningly toward him.
“Stop it, he’ll go with you, just call your men off.” If he didn’t watch himself they would end up shooting him. They were obviously only waiting for such an excuse. How could the sheriff deputize such men?
Without another word, she rose to her feet. “Go with them.” She smiled reassuringly. “Do exactly what they say.”
Billy stood up slowly, deliberately taking his time.
One of the men brought up the horses and she was forced to watch Billy struggling with his captor. A crack on the head knocked him senseless. She would have darted over only two men barred her way. With fearful eyes, she watched them dump Billy in the saddle and rope his hands and feet so he couldn’t move.
They set off with one of the men leading Billy’s horse. Fear surged through her as she watched them riding away. Surely, they couldn’t send him to jail for nothing? He hadn’t moved from where he was slumped in the saddle. How seri
ously injured was he? Not knowing was purgatory.
Back inside the cabin she anxiously paced the floor. What was the best thing to do? Not panic, of course. In the morning, she would ride into town and demand to see the sheriff. They would have to let Billy go. If only McGuire was here, he would know what to do for the best.
She was tempted to signal Johnny, but dare not as he would only go tearing into town, risking capture when there was little he could do. If Johnny was caught, he would hang, but they would have to let Billy go when they found he couldn’t help them. After all he hadn’t committed any real crime.
The sound of hoofbeats interrupted her thoughts and she raced to bolt the door, cursing herself for not having done it before. Her hand had barely touched the latch when three men charged in, almost knocking her over.
“Where’s your cousin?”
“Don’t tell me he escaped.”
One of the men dropped a shocking oath.
“He isn’t here.” She forced herself not to laugh in their faces. One youth had got the better of a bunch of bullying hired guns. “What will the sheriff say about this night’s work?” By the darkening of their faces she knew her taunt had reached its mark.
“You’ll go in his place, gal, if you think it’s so funny.” A big oaf lunged forward and grabbed her arm. “What do you think of that?”
“She’ll be better,” another said with a leer. “Valentine mightn’t worry too much about the boy, but she’s his woman and he’ll move heaven and earth for her. Not a bad looking gal, either.” He pushed his face so close to hers she could smell his rancid breath.
“We could have a bit of fun with her first,” another horrible creature suggested.
“Johnny will kill you if you touch me.” Screaming in fury, she kicked out at him.
“Plenty of fight in her. Never did like tame women. If you be nice to us, we can make things go easy for you.”
What could have happened next, she would never know because the leader arrived on the scene.
“Let her go, she’s my prisoner until we get into town. After I hand her over to the sheriff and get paid, I don’t care what happens.”
Outlaw Girl Page 9