The soft, indulgent-speaking lover was gone and the hard-bitten lawman had returned. Belinda opened her mouth to call his name, but the rapid beat of fast-moving horses arrested her attention. Conner was already gazing toward the rise they had traveled down.
“Belinda, get up on the seat.”
The quietly given order puzzled her. “Why, Conner? Who is coming?”
“Do it. Now.” He spun around, tossing the shirt and poncho into the buckboard’s bed behind her. Belinda hadn’t moved. Normally Conner wouldn’t worry about riders approaching, but they weren’t that far onto Kincaid land. The skin on the back of his neck prickled with alarm. He grabbed her by the waist, lifted her high and carried her to the front of the buckboard.
“What is wrong?”
“Sit.” He ignored her repeated questions that swiftly became demands to answer her. From beneath the seat, he removed his gun belt and rifle. “Hold this.”
Belinda stared at the rifle, then glanced to see him strapping on the belt, leaning over to tie the leather thong around his thigh. Every move was calm and controlled. She had a feeling that Conner did not want to alarm her, but his manner gave lie to that.
Mentally Conner dismissed the chance of outrunning four riders in the buckboard. If those were Rocking K men they would have hailed him by now. The silence meant they were Riverton’s men or strangers. All he could think about was getting Belinda safely away.
It wouldn’t be her they were after, but him.
“Can you drive the team?” He took the rifle from her.
“I imagine I could.” She stared at him. She sensed the impending danger as well as he did, yet his voice had been politeness itself. “Conner, I am not going—”
“Take them,” he ordered, handing her the reins as he released the pole brake. “For once in your spoiled life, do what someone tells you. Get out of here and don’t come back.”
“Who are those men?” she demanded.
Conner stepped forward and slapped the rump of one of the bay horses. The wagon lurched forward. Belinda was thrown back against the seat.
“I am not leaving you alone!” she yelled, sawing on the reins. She threw a quick look over her shoulder. The four riders were closing fast. Though soft, Conner’s vehement swearing—mostly directed at her for disobeying him—filled the air.
“I never take orders well, lawman,” she muttered as she urged the team around in a wide circle. How could that impossible man think that she would ride off and leave him at the mercy of strangers? She no longer had a question in her mind that they meant to do Conner some harm. If they were Charles’s men, her presence could prevent Conner from getting hurt.
The riders had slowed their horses to a walk, as if they had nothing to fear, when Belinda pushed the pole brake in place, but did not let go of the reins.
“Do you know them, Conner?”
“Riverton’s men,” he answered tersely. He recognized the Circle R ramrod in the lead.
“What do they want? I thought you said we were on your land.”
“Dacus can’t read, even if it was posted. I want you out of here, Belinda, before they come closer. They won’t ride after you. Go on,” he ordered. “Leave me.”
“No.”
Her single, softly spoken denial sent a shaft of anger shooting through Conner. And hot on its heels came fear for her. She didn’t know what men like these were capable of doing.
Conner had no illusions that they were coming to pay a social call. He’d end up using his gun. It was a gut-deep instinct that he didn’t argue with.
He kept his eyes on Joe Dacus, riding a showy black, white and brown spotted paint horse with a distinctively marked black mane and tail. The horse and the fancy silver-worked bridle made the man an easy target even at this distance.
Temptation beckoned to Conner. One bullet and he’d have his revenge. He wasn’t thinking as the sheriff who had sworn to uphold the law but the man who had narrowly avoided losing his life in a nightmare that still lingered.
He had no doubts that Dacus had been the one who let the snakes loose in the jail cell. It couldn’t have been anyone else. Riverton paid his men well, but Dacus was the only man on his payroll he would trust to do murder for him.
Conner willed the tension to leave him. He blocked out the sound of the tumbling water, the horses munching grass, but he couldn’t find a way to block out Belinda’s voice.
“Conner, the man riding in front, he is the one you fought with at—”
“Yeah, that’s Dacus in the lead. Riverton’s ramrod and hired gun. And right behind him is Dillion, your most agreeable savior.”
“He did save my life. You heard him promise to wait for me. Why would he be riding with them?” She knew there was bad blood between these men and Conner. She had never seen the other two riders around the ranch and Conner did not seek to enlighten her.
A strange fear took hold of her, settling marrow deep. A cold hard knot coiled in her stomach. The fear grew as she understood that the men moved slowly toward them as if they knew no one could see them. But the fear was for Conner, not herself.
“They cannot stop us from leaving, Conner. Dillion and Joe Dacus know that I am Charles’s guest. They would not dare—”
“Dare? They’d dare anyone, anything. I tried to tell you to get away. They’ll be all over us like buzzards on the dead if I get up on that seat with you to make a run for it. I know what these animals are capable of doing. Ah, hell! Just keep quiet. If you think being Riverton’s guest will protect you, it won’t.”
“I could not leave you.” Belinda’s whisper was lost beneath Dacus’s shout.
“Kincaid!” He drew rein about twenty feet away. “I’ve been hoping for a chance to get you alone.”
“If you wanted the pleasure of my company, Dacus, you should’ve sent a note. But I’m not alone. Riverton’s lady guest is with me. And you’re too far a piece from your home range.”
Worried and tense, Belinda shot Conner a reproving look. Dacus’s voice was gloating and goading. There were four of them and Conner dared to taunt him.
Conner stood away from the sheltering cover of the cottonwood trees. A hazy sun glinted off the barrel of the rifle he held loosely cradled in his arms. Even without his shirt on, he appeared dark and dangerous. He stood five feet away from her to the side of the buckboard.
Belinda thought of the small two-shot derringer in her reticule. Palm sized, the small gun made a deadly wound at ten feet. Not that Belinda knew for certain. She had never had occasion to use the gun beyond practice fire.
“Conner,” she whispered. “Give me your rifle.”
“Stay out of this, Belinda. If they see you with a weapon they’ll take it away from you. A discriminating society lady like yourself wouldn’t like their hands all over her body.” And I’d kill the first man that tries to touch you.
His rebuke and reminder that his hands had been all over her stung. She only wanted to help him. “You have a deplorable sense of humor, lawman.”
“It wasn’t meant to be funny.”
Soft and deadly, his words sobered her. “I am sorry, Conner. I have made it worse for you by staying.”
He didn’t respond. He wasn’t going to lie to her and he couldn’t take the chance of turning to look at her. Her realization of the danger she was in had come too late.
Hard, lean and calm, Conner watched the four men come in closer to form a loose half circle in front of him. He felt Belinda’s burning gaze on his back. Sweat trickled down his spine and flies buzzed around his head. He did not move.
“That’s about as close as you’re coming,” Conner stated. He wished he had put on his shirt, knowing the conclusions these men drew from finding them together, him half-dressed and Belinda with that glorious blond hair tumbling to her waist. But like her realization of danger, it was too late to do anything about it.
From the heat crawling into each man’s eyes, a flash of regret came to Conner from what she would be forced to
listen to, despite her status as Riverton’s guest. And if he allowed them to goad him into a fight, he could get her killed.
Joe Dacus leaned forward, his forearms crossed over the saddle horn. Conner likened him to a bull. The man was stocky but not fat. He was a vicious fighter, having learned his dirty tricks on the Galveston waterfront before he started to hire out his gun.
“Taking a free ride with the boss’s fancy piece of goods is gonna cost you, Kincaid.”
Conner could have shot him for the way he leered at Belinda. The others laughed. Conner didn’t say a word, nor did he move his gaze from Dacus. One move…just one move toward her…
But Dacus didn’t make a move. He knew that’s what Conner was waiting for.
“Real nice little piece of land, Kincaid. Good for a little bird-nesting. Didn’t know she went for the Adam an’ Eve bit. Why, hell, Kincaid, I don’t even blame you none. If I’d known her plumbing wanted priming, I’d’ve been first in line.”
Belinda’s shocked gasp fell in the silence that followed. Conner wondered how long it would take her to understand the insults that Dacus uttered.
Conner’s gut clenched with the effort he forced from himself not to answer the goads. It was the foolish move that Dacus waited for, but in order to protect Belinda, he had to allow the insults. Don’t move. But he wanted to…Lord, how he needed to wipe that leering grin off Dacus’s face, then go to work on the others.
Though four against one weren’t the worst odds he’d faced, one bullet would remove him from any chance to protect Belinda. The bone-deep knowledge held him still.
Thumbing back his high-crowned, sweat-stained hat, Dacus barked a short, ugly-sounding laugh. “Riding ramrod for Riverton means I got to straighten out the boss man’s problems, Kincaid. You’ve become a big one, like a real hard thorn in his side and a burr under my saddle.” He scratched his beard-stubbled chin and spat to the side. “Yes, sirree. The boss ain’t gonna like hearing you stretched your leather with her.”
“Stop it.” Dillion eased his horse up alongside Dacus. “We didn’t come down here to insult Miss Jarvis. She ain’t done nothing. And Riverton’s gonna be madder than those damn snakes you keep if she tells him what you’ve been saying. And we don’t need to hang around his land while you set spit to the wind needlin’ Kincaid.”
“Miss Jarvis, is it? Shut your mouth, boy. Ladies don’t go around tumbling the likes of Kincaid. Why, boy,” he said, his eyes burning with hate as he targeted Conner, “don’t you know he’s still got to hunt up his backbone. The way I hear it told, Kincaid left it in his jail cell a few nights back.”
Conner didn’t hear Belinda’s outraged cry on his behalf. His unblinking stare never wavered from Dacus’s face. Around the rifle, his fingers clenched with the need to rearrange the ramrod’s features. In his mind, from the dark corner where it should have stayed buried, the terror of being alone in the jail cell rose up. He saw himself, sweat drenched, plastered against the wall…afraid.
Dacus had been the one who let the snakes loose. And from his word, the bastard had stayed around long enough to see the results.
Conner didn’t know where he dragged the strength from to block the nightmarish vision from continuing. He had no time to be grateful, for a high-stepping roan brought one of the other men in closer.
“Amigos, this man is mine. His brother left me to die. Without a weapon, he left me in the desert. I will be the one to return the favor, sí? Then, we will show the lonely señorita she does not need this cholo. She will have a fine, brave caballero in me.”
“What you got in mind for him, Billy Jack?” Dacus demanded to know. He didn’t turn to look at the man at his side. He didn’t dare lift his gaze from Kincaid. He knew how good the lawman was with both the gun tied down low on his thigh and the rifle he cradled loosely in his arms. And it bothered him that Kincaid stood calm and quiet in spite of his goading him.
“You are foolish to continue, Mr. Dacus,” Belinda called out. She was proud that the fear coiling through her was not revealed in her voice.
“Belinda,” Conner warned.
“No. This has gone far enough. Charles is going to be furious when he hears what has happened.”
“How’s that, lady?” Dacus spat again. “We ain’t done nothin’ but fun some with the sheriff here.”
“Your idea of fun is appalling. You have insulted me and goaded Sheriff Kincaid beyond any man’s bearing.”
“Lady, I don’t know them fancy words you’re spitting like some prissed-up schoolmarm, so shut up.”
Belinda hit back every choice name that rose up to call Dacus. No one, not even Conner at his most arrogant, had dared to tell her to shut up. She did not understand why Conner stood there, refusing to answer one goad.
Her gaze strayed to find Dillion staring at her. He shook his head in warning. Belinda, ever headstrong, ignored him.
“Dillion, you must ride back to the ranch. Surely there is someone this…this man will listen to.”
“Ma’am, I—”
“Boy, since you’re so damn worried about Miss Jarvis, you get to shut her mouth and keep her the hell out of the way, or I’ll do it.”
Dillion heard the underlying threat in Dacus’s order and nudged his horse forward. He neck-reined his horse so that he was even with Belinda.
“I tried to tell you,” he whispered. “The boss pays my wages. I can’t go against the ramrod. A man that rides for a brand owes that brand his loyalty.”
“Loyalty?” She hated looking away from the whispered conversation between Dacus and Billy Jack, but Dillion had given her a means to end this.
“You call ignoring or partaking of the plans to hurt Conner being loyal? All right. You claim to be loyal to the one who pays your wages. I can pay you more money than you would make in a year riding for Charles. Stop them and name your price.”
His face took on a stubborn cast. “Don’t expect you to understand, being you’re a woman and all. Just set quiet. I ain’t gonna let them hurt you.”
I am not worried about myself, but Conner, you fool! She could not say this to him. He believed the lies that Dacus had told him about Conner. She could not.
“Who is the other man?” she asked him.
“Webb Fulton. Him and Dacus are tighter than a cow and its hide. Dacus saved his life. Webb’ll do anything Dacus tells him.”
“Such loyalty should be commended but somehow is less than reassuring.” Her sarcasm made no impression on Dillion.
Conner heard the whispered conversation going on behind him. He didn’t dare turn around and blister Belinda the way his tongue burned to do. She had managed to split them up. Now he had to worry about Dillion behind him.
The man whispering to Dacus was the half-breed that Logan had told him about. He had ridden with the outlaws, robbing their mines. Pity that Logan hadn’t killed him. Billy Jack Mulero, a mixed breed of Mexican, Apache and white, was as vicious as any the territory had bred. Conner carefully searched for a sign that he’d been chewing mescal. Logan had warned him that when he had the powerful drug in him, Billy Jack got wild and unpredictable. But his scrutiny revealed no bloodshot eyes or fitful moves, sure indicators.
Billy Jack not only relished taunting, especially when he had others with him, he had a fondness for women. Jessie had been one of his victims, saved from rape only because he’d cornered her in a mercantile, not out in the open. Like here.
His stomach hollowed at the thought of Belinda being at his mercy. Dacus laughed at whatever Billy Jack said. Conner didn’t dare move closer as he cursed his luck that the unpredictable man was back in Riverton’s pay.
He knew what it felt like to be between a rock and a hard place. They wouldn’t kill him, not unless they planned to kill Belinda, too. But from the look of the two of them, he was going to end up hurting. If he opened fire, he’d get two of them. But he would put Belinda at risk of taking a stray bullet from Webb, before Conner got off another shot.
And there was Dil
lion…the wild card in a stacked deck.
Conner started backing up. He cocked the rifle.
“While you’re jawin’, he’s gonna make his move,” Webb yelled. He spurred his horse forward to cut off Conner’s retreat. To enforce his move, he drew his gun. “I say we shoot the bastard an’ be done with it.” Webb shot a look at Belinda. “She ain’t gonna talk. Not if she knows what’ll happen to her.”
“And who’s gonna tell her? You, Webb?”
“You won’t be talkin’ so big, lawman, when we get done with you.”
“I figure the way Dacus is going, I’ll likely die of boredom right where I’m standing.” Dillion’s horse started to lip Conner’s skin. He shoved the animal’s curious nose away just hard enough that the horse pranced back a few steps.
“Conner?” Belinda murmured.
“When I fire, move.”
“What are you telling her, Kincaid?” Dillion demanded. He walked his horse forward until Conner was forced to move away from the buckboard.
“Kincaid ain’t gonna die of boredom. Billy Jack’s convinced me he’s got a right to Kincaid. His amigos are rotting in prison because of Kincaid and his damn interfering brothers.” Dacus looked at Billy Jack and grinned. “He’s all yours.”
While Dacus talked, Billy Jack had uncoiled the rope that hung from his saddle. “It is beautiful, sí? By my own hand came my reata. In my country, señorita, the vaquero must be skilled with his reata.” He shook out the loop. “It will give me great pleasure to see this lawman run for me.”
“You heard him, Kincaid.” Dacus spurred his horse closer to cut off any chance of Conner’s retreating to the trees. “Drop your shooting irons and start running.”
“Stop them, damn you!” Belinda cried out. She was close enough to grab hold of Dillion’s arm. “Did you hear me?” she demanded, panic filling her voice. “I’ll pay you five thousand dollars.” She shot a frantic look at Conner. He was maneuvering away from the buckboard, but Webb and Dacus kept pace with him. Why was he not shooting at them?
“Ten thousand, Dillion. Twenty thousand,” she offered in the next breath. The young cowhand wasn’t responding to her. Money was the only weapon she had to help Conner, but for the second time in her life, Belinda found a man immune to bribery. What was an admirable trait in Conner, she cursed in Dillion.
Once a Lawman Page 14