Whispers on the Wind

by Brenda Jernigan

  “Yes,” Thunder prodded, his arms folded across his chest as he waited for Carter to finish his statement.

  “She means a lot to me,” Carter snapped. His expression was one of mute wretchedness.

  Thunder had to keep from smiling.

  “But you locked her up.”

  “For Christ’s sake! She broke the law. It was my duty.”

  Hank came storming up to them. His shoulder had been bandaged, but other than that he looked fine, just angry. “What the Sam Hill is the matter with both of you? The town is on fire, and both of you are standing out in the middle of the street arguing when you should be helping folks fight the fire.”

  “We can’t find Mary,” Carter said as if Hank should understand that nothing else mattered. “Did you let her out by some chance?”

  “Nope.” Hank shoved back his hat. “But when I was walking out of Doc’s office, I saw her riding out of town. Almost didn’t recognize her because she had on different clothes.”

  “Who was she with?” Carter and Thunder asked at the same time. It was getting to be a damn annoying habit, Carter thought They were too much alike.

  “Don’t know,” Hank said with a shrug, then he winced at the pain in his shoulder. “Figured it was one of the boys from the ranch. Once I saw the fire, it made sense that you wanted her safely out of town.”

  “But Mother didn’t know Mary was here,” Carter quickly pointed out “So I doubt it was a ranch hand. But who?” Carter glanced at Thunder to see if he had any answers.

  Thunder shrugged. “I have no idea, but at least we know Mary got out of the blaze. Let’s help with the fire now, maybe we can figure it out later.”

  Carter insisted that Hank help to direct everyone where they should go, thinking it would be much easier on him. Then Carter and Thunder worked with the citizens trying to save precious belongings, because there was no help for the buildings.

  In the end the only things left standing were the saloon, the dry goods store, the livery, and the funeral parlor.

  The rest of Windy Bend had been burned to rubble.

  The men gathered to stare at the smoking haze as the sky turned to dusk. The red embers looked like glowing eyes staring at them.

  Doc Moore was the first to speak. “What in the hell could have caused such a fire?”

  “Good question,” Hank said. “If there had been lightning, we would have known the cause. Maybe somebody set the fire.”

  Just then a rider came barreling up behind them, stopping about fifty yards away from the group of men.

  Carter and Thunder both swung around and drew their guns, but wisely held their fire, waiting to see what the rider said. The man threw something in their direction, then rode off.

  Carter retrieved the leather pouch. He peered inside the pouch, saw a piece of paper, and withdrew it. Quickly, he scanned the writing in the dimming daylight. “The Carlsons have Mary,” Carter finally said. He handed the slip of paper to Thunder.

  Hank blew out a disgusted sigh. “Now I’m sure that fire was set. First they kept you busy in a gunfight while the rest of the gang grabbed Mary. The Carlsons have plagued this town for too long.”

  “Yes, they have,” Carter agreed, his voice hoarse with frustration. He turned to Thunder. “Let’s get the horses.” he said.

  As they marched to the stable, both men were quiet. Carter’s thoughts were on the note. The instructions were to ride to King’s Canyon and make camp, then wait. Mary would be sent to them. Something was wrong. It was too simple. He knew that the Carlsons were up to something. But what?

  He realized that his heart was slamming against his ribs. He was much more scared not knowing about Mary than he had been in the gunfight. He just prayed they didn’t hurt her.

  “This could be a setup,” Carter said, finally expressing his thoughts.

  Thunder nodded as he tightened the cinch of his saddle. “You’re probably right. We’ll have to be on guard.”

  “They’re using Mary for a bargaining tool, so right now she’s safe. But if they’ve hurt her...” Carter’s curt words trailed off.

  “You’ll what... arrest them?” Thunder asked with a sardonic smile.

  Carter gave him a sidelong glance as he mounted his horse. This time, he could truly say that he’d have no regret for what he would do to them. “I thought more along the lines of killing them.”

  Thunder’s smile was without humor. Then count me in.”

  Mary couldn’t believe that Carter and Thunder had left her locked in the cell like a common criminal. It was so like Carter, but she’d thought otherwise of Thunder. She had to smile at that thought, but the smile quickly vanished when she remembered that Carter hadn’t even bothered to look back at her as he’d stormed out the door.

  It was a helpless feeling to be confined and without any control of her situation, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it now except sulk.

  She glanced at the package on the cot. At least she could change her clothes now that she had a little privacy. She unwrapped the bundle and found a white blouse similar to what she’d seen Mexican women wear.

  Mary pulled her old dress over her head and tossed it in the corner. She never wanted to see the threadbare garment again. After wearing the nice clothes that Judith had provided, Mary realized that she enjoyed dressing well and would like to have fine clothes of her own someday.

  She shook out the garments, then slipped the blouse on over her head. The white ruffle fell nicely around her shoulders. It was a perfect fit and very comfortable, as well.

  The dark blue skirt was simple and fit snugly around her hips, flaring out toward the hem. It was a little short, but that didn’t matter. At least her skirt wouldn’t drag in the dirt. Once she had the waist hooked, she ran her hands over the material to smooth it out.

  Now she was all dressed up with no place to go, so she sat down to wait. A gun blast sounded in the distance. She gripped her hands, praying that no one she cared about had been killed.

  Then there were more shots.

  And still she waited for word.

  The waiting was miserable. She didn’t know what was going on. She wanted to see what was happening.

  What if Carter had been killed? Her stomach clenched. Mary couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him again. No matter how angry she was at him, she didn’t want him hurt.

  Something smelled funny. She sniffed. It smelled a lot like smoke. Mary hurried to the bars of her cell and peered over at the potbellied stove, but she didn’t see anything unusual. Yet the smell seemed to be growing stronger.

  Something was burning.

  She glanced up at the window and saw small wisps of smoke curling through the bars. What could be burning outside?

  Dragging the cot under the window, she stepped up on the cot and peeked out the barred window.

  Mary gasped, but she drew in too much smoky air and started to cough. Her eyes burned and watered. She rubbed them and looked again. White smoke and huge red flames were being blown straight toward the jail by the wind. It looked like the building next to them was engulfed in fire. Hot winds blew in through the window bringing more smoke.

  She was trapped!

  “Help me!” Mary yelled out the window. But every time she opened her mouth to scream, she gulped smoke and that set her to coughing. So she climbed down and sat on the cot. What could she do to help herself?

  Damn Carter Monroe for leaving her like this!

  She grasped the bars on the cell and looked over at the keys. Her eyes were still watering and burning, and she had to wipe away the tears. There were the keys, hanging on a peg, promising her freedom, but too far away to do her any good.

  As she coughed and wiped her eyes again, the door of the jailhouse flew open. At first she thought it might be Carter, but a man she didn’t recognize ran in.

  “Who are you?”

  “I was sent to get you out of here before the place burnt down,” the stranger said as he retrieved the keys f
rom the peg.

  Mary thought the jingle of keys had never sounded so good.

  The man unlocked the door. “You’re to come with me.”

  Mary put her hand over her mouth against the smoke and nodded. Her eyes were watering so badly that she could barely see. But she followed the man to two horses, figuring he had to be one of the men from town.

  The horse was skittish from the smoke, and it took Mary several tries before she mounted the animal. She did notice this wasn’t the horse that she had ridden to town, but she figured with the fire the man had grabbed the first animal he came to.

  There was still shooting going on, so it didn’t surprise Mary when they rode around the back of the buildings and out of town.

  “Where are we going?” Mary asked.

  “Someplace safe,” the man answered.

  Mary breathed in the fresh air. She was too thankful to get the smoke out of her lungs to question him, and her eyes were finally clearing, too. She figured they would go to where some of the other townsfolk were gathered and they’d sort themselves out later.

  But they didn’t. Instead they kept going.

  Apprehension began to creep over her. True, the man had saved her life when no one else had bothered to look in on her, but why were they going so far out of town? Mary pulled back on the reins. “Wait a minute. I don’t want to leave town. My brother is back there, and Carter. I need to see if they’re all right. Who are you anyway, and where are we going?” she demanded. “I’ll go no farther until you tell me!”

  The man swung around and rode back to her. Now that she could see clearly, Mary realized there was something vaguely familiar about him. She stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

  What was it about that face?

  But he said nothing. Instead of answering her, he reached up and tugged at his ear. What was he—?

  Mary knew nothing else.

  McCoy felt cold contempt for the girl as he stared at her for a moment “What were you saying?”

  “I don’t remember,” Mary replied, confused.

  “That is what I thought” The man smiled. “Now you are going to ride behind me and say nothing.”

  “I will ride behind you,” Mary said, her voice dull and automatic.

  McCoy nudged his horse. They rode through a couple of canyons until they reached Box Canyon and the hidden road. He stopped, moved the brush, then led their horses through. After McCoy replaced the brush, he grabbed his horse’s reins and Mary’s, then led the two horses into the camp that he and the Carlsons had setup.

  After tying his horse, he held Mary’s mount’s halter. “Get down.” He watched her obediently follow his command, then he left her to tie her horse beside his.

  He returned to find her standing in the same spot, just staring off into the distance. Boy, he had her trained good, he thought with pleasure. “Mary, go and sit by that rock and do not move until I give you further instructions.”

  She went quietly and did as he instructed.

  It wasn’t long before Sammy Carlson and two of his men galloped into the ravine where the campsite had been set up. The two men were wearing tasseled sombreros and short jackets.

  “I see you got her,” Sammy said, nodding toward the girl. He dismounted. “Boys, get some grub going.”

  “I told you I would,” McCoy told him. “Where is your brother?”

  Sammy yanked his saddlebags from his horse, then tossed the reins to Fred, one of his men, before answering McCoy. “Dead.”

  McCoy frowned. “Dead? I thought you were just going to hold them off until I could get the fire started.”

  “You took your damn time about getting that fire lit,” Fred said, dusting off his hat on his chaps. “We damned near all got shot”

  “I was working by myself,” McCoy informed them. “You should have been on our end,” Tom, the other hired gun, said.

  “Why is that?”

  Sammy handed a sack of beans to Fred so he could put them in the pot “Because they had somebody new who was damn good with a gun. Don’t know where he came from. The marshal has always been fast, but this guy—he looked like a ’breed. Poor Randy never saw it coming. That ’breed took him out before Randy could blink twice.”

  Sammy dug down in his saddlebag and fished out some strips of material, then sat down in front of Mary. “Make yourself useful and bandage my arm.”

  Mary didn’t move.

  “What’s wrong with her? Is she deaf?”

  “She’s in a trance,” McCoy said. He bent over and looked at the girl. “Mary, look at me.” Slowly she lifted her head. “Bandage the man’s arm, but be careful you don’t hurt him.”

  Mary got up on her knees, then reached for Sammy’s arm and tore the sleeve up over the wound. Next she wrapped the strips of cloth around his arm. When she’d finished, she sat back down.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Sammy said. “Why isn’t she saying nothing?”

  “Because I’ve not told her to.”

  “So exactly what have you done to her? It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen. Sure wish I could get all women to do what I say without a bunch of arguin’.”

  McCoy sat down beside Mary. “I have put her into a hypnotic sleep.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Even though she looks awake, she is actually asleep and under the influence of my suggestion.”

  Sammy looked very skeptical. “I don’t believe you. How do you know she’ll carry out our plan?”

  “I’ll show you while Fred and Tom cook the beans. Are you sure we don’t need to ride farther out?”

  “Nope. We’re all set for them to come after us, but first they have a mighty big fire to put out.” He laughed.

  McCoy frowned. He just hoped the cowboy was right. He touched Mary’s shoulder. “Mary, all your fingers on your right hand will ball up into a fist and you will not be able to unclench your hand no matter how hard you try. The hand will cause you great pain until I release you. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “On the count of three you’ll wake up. But when I ask you about your hand, you will feel the pain. One ... two ... three.”

  Mary slowly blinked. What was happening? She felt such pressure in her head. “Where am I? And who are you? Where is Carter?” She didn’t have any idea how she’d gotten here. She did recognize the man who led her out of town ... and there was something else about him.

  “What’s in your hand?”

  She looked at her fist and tried to open it, but she couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. And the pain was excruciating. “My fingers! They’re not working. I can’t open my hand,” she said in a panicked voice. “I don’t know who you people are, but I’m going back to town even if I have to walk.”

  “Mary!” McCoy snapped to gain her attention. As soon as she looked at him, he tugged on his ear, causing her to go back into a trance. “Sit back down.”

  When she was seated again, McCoy said to Sammy, “Try and open her hand.”

  Sammy took her fist and tried to pry Mary’s fingers out, but he couldn’t do it. She cried out in pain, and he tried harder. Finally, he gave up and slapped her hand away from him. “The bitch is strong,” he grumbled.

  Mary stood there, silent tears running down her cheeks.

  McCoy laughed. “Not the person, but the mind. Mary, would you like to get rid of the pain you’re in?”

  “Yes,” she said with a whimper.

  “All you have to do is kiss me and your pain will simply go away.”

  Mary leaned over to McCoy, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him intimately. At the same time, he unbuttoned her blouse and caressed her breasts. Then he let her go.

  When Mary sat back, her hand was open just as if nothing had ever happened.

  “Button your blouse,” McCoy instructed.

  “You know, I think I’m going to like this arrangement,” Sammy said. “Maybe after she’s done the murders, we could have her rob a few ba
nks and provide some pleasure for me and the men.”

  “Whoa.” McCoy held up his hand. There was really no need for trouble now, so he would have to tread carefully. After all they were a hard, dangerous-looking bunch.

  “That wasn’t our agreement After she kills the marshal, I’m taking her back to Gregory Gulch—that is, if she’s still alive. There is a matter of a gold mine I need to see too. If you boys want to go straight you can come and work the claim. It will make you rich, according to my dear, departed brother.”

  Sammy frowned. “Sounds like a lot of work to me.

  “Beans are ready,” Tom said as he spooned out a helping onto his plate. “I’d rather other folks make the money and we take it from them.”

  Amusement flickered in Sammy’s eyes as he said in his slow drawl, “That’s why I like you boys.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The inky black fingers of dust were slithering across the sky, stilling the light as Carter and Thunder rode through the gorge. The fir and aspen trees guarded the sides of the slopes like soldiers.

  It didn’t take them long to reach Box Canyon, where they had been instructed to go. The sound of the three-hundred-foot waterfall greeted them. They found what they thought looked like the safest place, next to a stream. With the stream protecting their backs they could see whoever approached them. After agreeing, they started preparing to settle in for the night

  Thunder built a campfire next to the stream. Since they wanted the outlaws to know exactly where they were, they didn’t worry about keeping the fire small. Carter tossed out their bedrolls, though he doubted either one of them would get any sleep. He worried as he waited and hoped that the Carlsons were kinder to Mary than they had been to his sister.

  “I don’t know about you, but all I can smell and taste is smoke,” Carter said as he straightened and stretched his aching back. “You watch out while I wash up, and then I’ll do the same for you.”

  Thunder nodded, and a wry smile touched his lips. “That sounds good.”