Daniella stared open-mouthed at Billy Joe Crane. Her hands froze on the reins. This couldn’t be happening. This was ridiculous! What was he doing here?
Crane pointed his six-shooter at her, making her realize the dangerousness of the situation. Her heart lurched. This was no time to lose her head. She prayed briefly for the twins to stay asleep. If Crane had been prepared to hang two young boys, no telling what he might do to helpless babies.
A vision of Travis crossed her mind, but she knew he was too far away to save her this time. White hot anger gripped her when she thought of what this man could cost her—Travis, her babies, her life. That’s right, she told herself. Don’t get scared—get mad! How dare he accost us this way!
“What do you want, Crane?”
He grinned an evil, oily grin and said, “Just you, sugar.”
“Well isn’t that just too bad,” she shot back.
“Could be bad,” he answered easily, leaning back in the saddle, “if you cause trouble. Behave yourself, and it’ll be a hell of a lot easier on you.”
Daniella glared at him, wondering what her team would do if she slapped the reins against their backs while Crane sat mounted directly in front of them.
As if reading her thoughts, Crane waved his pistol at her and ordered her to get down.
“The hell I will,” she answered, amazed at the calmness in her voice.
“You will, or I’ll shoot that there greaser bitch next to you. Now!”
One swift glance told her Lucinda was terrified out of her wits. Any second the girl might start screaming, and then Crane would shoot her. Daniella gave Lucinda what she hoped was a reassuring pat on the arm, then, with trembling knees, climbed down from the wagon.
If she could keep Crane calm, not anger him, she might have a chance to reason with him.
She nearly balked when he ordered her to climb up behind him. She would have balked, except he kept his gun trained on poor Lucinda.
If he’d only leave the girl alone, leave her here, Pace and Serena would be safe and Lucinda could go for help.
Somehow Daniella managed to get her shaking body onto the rump of Crane’s horse. An instant later, he grabbed her arms, dragged them around his bulging stomach, and tied her hands together in front of him.
Daniella’s anger threatened to desert her as fear clawed at her throat.
From the wagon seat, Lucinda whimpered.
Daniella forced back her own fear and turned to reassure the girl.
Before Daniella could speak, Crane’s gun barked. The bullet struck Lucinda in the left temple.
The Mexican girl crumpled to her side, blood gushing brightly, spurting across the seat.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I wish those two boys hadn’t taken a chance like that, starting this herd home without waiting for us,” Travis said as the last wild mustang entered the corral.
“What are you complaining about? It got us back in half the time. It’s barely past noon. Don’t try to tell me you weren’t eager to get home.” Jason wore a teasing grin, knowing full well Travis hadn’t wanted to go out after the horses in the first place. The older man had noticed in the weeks since Christmas his son hadn’t strayed ten feet from Dani unless necessary.
As soon as they’d seen to their horses, Travis lived up to Jason’s expectations and remained true to form—he went to find his wife.
The sun moved just far enough to send its rays past the boulder directly into Lucinda’s closed eyes. She came to with a groan and pushed herself into an upright position. The pain in her head was excruciating. She touched her fingers to her throbbing temple and nearly fainted at the sight of blood on her hand. It was everywhere! On her dress, the wagon seat, her face, her hair. Then she remembered.
¡La Señora! ¡La Señora! Lucinda turned slowly on the bloody seat, feeling like her head might explode, and found the twins still sound asleep. There was blood on their blanket. Her blood?
¡El hombre! He took la Señora! Lucinda knew she had to get help! What should she do? How long had she lain there in the pool of her own blood?
The feverish activity in her brain could not necessarily be called thought, but she decided she couldn’t have been unconscious too long, or the babies would be crying to be fed. And the sun—it wasn’t even noon yet.
La Señora said this was the halfway point between the ranch and the valley. But Lucinda wasn’t sure exactly how to get to either place. Looking back the way they’d come, she saw the wagon tracks they’d left in their wake.
I must go back for help. Someone must tell Señor Travis.
Lucinda bent down, ever so slowly, carefully, and picked up the reins from where la Señora had dropped them, then reminded herself not to bend down like that again—the pain was blinding. She waited for her vision to clear, then grasped the reins as firmly as her shaking hands allowed.
But the horses were facing the wrong direction.
Lucinda had never driven a team before, and had only a vague idea of what to do. She just assumed the horses did most of the work. It took her over ten minutes to get the wagon headed in the right direction.
Each movement of the bumpy ride shot bright lights behind her eyes and sent tears of pain streaming down her bloody cheeks. The contents of her stomach repeatedly heaved to her throat, then dropped; heaved, and dropped; heaved, dropped. Her mind ceased to center on anything other than keeping her breakfast down, and keeping her body from toppling over.
She wanted to pray, but all she could think of was, Hail Mary, full of grace…Hail Mary, full of grace…Hail Mary, full of grace…
The bedroom and nursery were both empty, but before Travis could ask where Dani and the twins were, he heard high, excited, female voices shouting from in front of the house. When he went to investigate, the sight of a blood-covered Lucinda driving his wagon filled him with cold dread. He could hear the twins crying, but saw no sign of Dani.
Panicked, he raced to the wagon and looked inside the bed. Except for the box containing the twins, it was empty.
Several pairs of eager hands reached to lift Lucinda to the ground. She swayed on her feet. Travis picked her up and carried her inside.
“Señor Travis,” the young girl cried. “He took la Señora. He took her!”
“Who, Lucinda? Who took her?”
“A man. I don’t know…” The girl’s eyes almost drifted shut.
“Where did he take her, Lucinda? Did he say anything? Think, Lucinda!”
“I…she…called him…Crane…I think.”
Travis felt his blood turn cold. “Tell me everything you remember.”
A few minutes after Lucinda related everything her tortured mind could remember, Travis flung his saddle on his horse and headed for the area Lucinda said the abduction took place without stopping to tell Jason or the others. They could follow if they wanted, but he wouldn’t waste even a few seconds waiting for them.
He covered the distance much faster than the two women had. From the spot where the wagon turned back toward the ranch, one horse, heavily laden, left a plain trail toward the east. Travis followed.
The buckskin’s hooves beat out a steady rhythm. Travis’s mind cried out in time with the beat, I’m coming, Dani. I’m coming.
He rode hard and fast, until his horse could go no farther, then rested the beast for as short a time as possible, once again pushing the animal to its limit. Travis wanted to close as much distance as possible between himself and Dani before the light failed. Even with the full moon due tonight, it was all too easy to lose a trail in the darkness.
He tried to blot out the images of what Crane might be doing to Dani, but the vision kept returning, torturing him in his present frustration and helplessness.
He stopped once to study some horse droppings, estimating they were less than two hours old. If Crane was smart he’d spot Travis’s dust and head for the foothills. Travis had already spotted dust along his own backtrail. Triple C riders, coming to help.
The
sun was going down. He’d lose the light soon.
Dani!
His eyes burned from straining to catch some glimpse of movement in the hills up ahead, but he knew the distance was too great.
There! What was that? Again. A flash. Sunlight reflecting off metal. A gun? A harness?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Daniella’s mind and body were numb with fear and fatigue. Crane, with her unwilling company, had been riding at a moderate but steady pace, nonstop, for hours.
The vision of Lucinda crumpling to the wagon seat, blood pouring from her head, would not leave Daniella. Dear, sweet Lucinda. She was just a child. She’d never harmed a living soul, and this bastard, this murderer, killed her for no reason—killed her in cold blood.
Daniella blinked back tears and tried to concentrate. She needed to know what he was planning, where he was taking her. So she asked him.
“Shut up,” Crane snapped.
Daniella clamped her lips shut, deciding against any further questions. No point in antagonizing him. She shifted her weight on the rump of the horse, trying to find some small measure of comfort.
Before long she was surprised to realize her fear had all but disappeared. She was nervous, wary, but the actual fear had subsided. For now. Even though he was armed and she wasn’t, he was still just one man.
Maybe later she’d be scared again. Right now she was preoccupied with trying to breathe past the sorrow and sheer, unadulterated rage over Lucinda’s death.
After a long, hard struggle, she finally managed to clear her mind somewhat. She couldn’t afford rage or sorrow right now. She had to think. Plan. Escape. Could she manage it? And if she could, what then? Could she make it home?
Yes, came the answer.
Her only chance for escape would seem to be during the chaos and confusion of setting up camp. He’d have to untie her hands before he could dismount. After that, it would probably be too late. He’d surely tie her up again. So she’d have to try it as soon as they stopped for the night. If they stopped.
The sun was sinking low behind them as they climbed into the foothills. The Santa Catalina Mountains loomed ahead, looking menacing to Daniella’s frightened brain. Frightened. Yes. Her fear was growing again.
When they stopped, she glanced quickly around the small clearing. Crane’s pack mule, the same one she’d seen him beat, stood tethered on the north edge of the clearing. Crane had obviously been camped here for a while. The blackened remains of a small campfire marred the center of the clearing.
Daniella concentrated on keeping her body relaxed. She wanted to give no warning of her intentions. Let him think she would meekly go along with whatever he planned.
Crane tossed his reins down and let them trail on the ground. Her mouth went dry. Would she be able to get to them when her chance came?
She felt a tug on her numbed hands as he untied them. When her blood flowed into her dead, swollen fingers, she wanted to scream with pain. She’d never be able to grasp the reins with her hands in such bad shape. But she had no choice. She had to do it when she got the chance. If she got the chance.
She didn’t get the chance. Crane grabbed her by one arm and practically tossed her from the saddle. It had been too long since she’d ridden. After the past several hours astride, her legs refused to hold her. If Crane let go, she would fall.
But he didn’t let go, not even while he swung to the ground.
Before she could get her feet and legs to work, he dragged her to a scrub oak at the edge of the clearing and tied her hands to an overhead branch.
Panic threatened to overwhelm her. The branch was so high her hands couldn’t reach it. Crane had looped the rough, abrasive rope tightly around one wrist, then over the branch a full foot beyond her reach, then around the other wrist. He pulled it so taut her feet barely reached the ground. Her arms felt like they were about to pull loose from their sockets. And if the physical pain and discomfort weren’t enough, she’d just lost any chance of escaping.
Crane ignored her while he started a fire. Daniella shifted her weight, trying to get her legs to hold her. The rope scraped along the tree branch. Loose bits of bark trickled down onto her head. She stiffened. The rope had moved along the branch!
She waited, holding her breath until Crane turned his back toward her, then looked up at the branch. How far could she move? Her heart sank at once. Two feet in one direction was the trunk. Six inches the other way, the branch took a sharp upward turn toward the sky. So much for being able to scoot clear off the end of the branch to freedom. Although the limb was dead, it was nearly four inches thick and solid oak. It wasn’t about to snap in two from just her meager weight.
But she wouldn’t give up. If she could maneuver without Crane becoming aware of what she was doing, she could pull the rope back and forth across the branch. With enough effort, and enough time—something she had no idea if she had much of—the rope or the branch might break. Maybe.
It was a slim chance, but right now it was her only chance. She shifted her weight around several times to get Crane used to her movements, so he wouldn’t watch too closely. He didn’t seem to notice her at all.
A loud crashing in the underbrush brought Crane upright, gun drawn.
Daniella held her breath, hope and fear mingling in her veins. The hope was useless. She knew it wasn’t Travis coming to save her. He’d never come crashing into camp that way, announcing his presence minutes before his arrival. He was too trailwise for that.
When the rider broke through the last line of trees and emerged into the clearing, Daniella was stunned. Carmen! Crane grimaced and holstered his gun. Foreboding prickled along Daniella’s spine. What was Carmen doing here?
The woman dismounted and brushed daintily at the dust on her skirt. She looked up then at Daniella and smiled brilliantly. Dark, deadly malice sparkled in her eyes. Daniella shivered, her fear growing by leaps and bounds.
“Well, I see you finally got her,” Carmen said. “And it’s about time, I must say, after your last bumbling attempt. I’m glad I came. Kill her now. I want to watch.”
Daniella gasped.
Carmen sauntered toward her. When she stood but inches away, that smile still on her face, she raised a hand and slapped Daniella so hard her head snapped back.
Daniella straightened her head slowly, a cold numbness spreading through her limbs.
“But before you kill her,” Carmen said, turning to Crane, “I want her to know why. I want her to know what’s going to happen.” She whirled back to Daniella. “I warned you. I did. I told you to leave the territory. But you didn’t listen, and for that you will pay. With your life, puta.
“Until you came along, Travis was mine. Mine! You took him from me. Now I take him back. When he finds the broken, lifeless body of his wife, he will be filled with grief. I will be there to comfort him. You, who are afraid of a man’s touch—oh yes, I know you fear him—you can’t possibly give a man like Travis what he needs. I can. And I will.”
While Carmen raved, Daniella grew sicker by the moment. She had to force herself to meet Carmen’s gaze.
“So you hired Crane to do your dirty work, is that it?”
Carmen laughed. “Señor Crane and I, we have struck a bargain. For his part, I will see he gets that little valley you’re so fond of. Then he and I will split the gold he finds there.”
Daniella knew her only chance was to keep them talking, delay whatever they had planned for her as long as possible. Travis would come. Surely Travis would come!
She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. “How can you give him the valley, when it’s not yours?”
“When I marry Travis, it will be the same as mine. I will convince him to sell.”
Daniella forced a tight smile to her lips. “I think you’ll have trouble convincing Travis to sell something he doesn’t own.”
Crane growled and came forward. “What’re you talking about, girl? If it was yours, with you gone it’ll be his.”
“That’s true, under normal circumstances,” she said. “But you see, I only own half of it. My partners won’t be too eager to sell. And if anything happens to me, my half of the ranch goes to them, not Travis. I’m afraid Carmen has made you promises she won’t be able to keep.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Carmen cried. “It’s a trick. She lies. We’ll find a way, mi amigo. We’ll get that gold.”
“What gold is that?” Daniella asked.
Crane smiled at her. “You never knew, did you? That little valley of yours is full of gold.”
“Of course it isn’t. What ever gave you that idea?”
“This!” Crane dug in his pocket and came up with a shiny gold nugget. “This came from that valley.”
Daniella quailed. Oh Lord! It looked like…but that was absurd. There must be thousands of nuggets shaped like a small fist. But yet…“Where did you get that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Crane gave her a strange, guarded look. “Like I said, I found it in that valley.”
“When?”
Again, that guarded look. “Last summer.”
Daniella threw her head back and cried out in rage. “You bastard! You lying, stinking, murdering bastard! I know exactly where you got that nugget!” She struggled uselessly against her bonds, chest heaving with effort, eyes wide and glaring. “You didn’t find it, Crane, you took it.”
Crane took a step back from her look of pure hatred.
“You took it from my uncle’s pocket, and the only way you could have done that was if he was dead. You killed him. You killed my uncle. You bastard.”
“Now hold on!” Crane protested. “I might have taken it from his pocket, and he might have been dead at the time, but by God, I didn’t kill him. You hear me? I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill nobody! Not ever!”
“Liar,” she hissed. “I saw you kill Lucinda today with my own eyes.”
Apache-Colton Series Page 39