Passions Wild And Free

by Janelle Taylor

  “You don’t need to leave yet, Dee. Marshal Timms can keep his prisoner at the hotel with him. It won’t be any bother. I’ve done it several times when jails were full, or towns didn’t have one.”

  “I have a long and hard journey ahead, Brody. I really should get plenty of rest tonight. And I’m sure Marshal Timms sees enough of criminals during the day without having to sleep with them at night. He’ll probably be overjoyed to sleep with both eyes closed for a change. The dinner was wonderful. Thank you again. We’ll speak in the morning. Good night, Brody. Good night, Marshal Timms.”

  “I’ll walk you to the hotel. It’s dark and late,” Brody announced. To Foley Timms, he said, “You know where the keys and cell are.”

  At her door, Brody whispered, “I’m sorry he ruined our evening, Dee. I’ll be over about eight thirty to carry your bags to the stage.”

  “You could hardly let him bring his prisoner to the hotel for the night. If we refused to let a marshal inside the jail, people would wonder what we were doing over there. Then, if we married soon after my return, they’d think there was some wicked reason for doing so.”

  The grinning sheriff confessed, “I guess the intrusion was good, since you’re such a desirable woman and I promised to give you time. This way, I’m forced to behave. Can I have a good-bye kiss?”

  They embraced and their lips met. The kiss was more intense than Randee planned or wanted, but she allowed it to run its course. She felt the force of his desire in his taut body and snug embrace. His mouth hungrily claimed hers and she tried to respond.

  His hands gently captured her head and he spread rapid kisses over her face before she could caution him to halt. When he did, he gazed deeply into her eyes and vowed hoarsely, “You’re ‘my own weakness, Dee, the only thing that can hurt me or harm me. I won’t give up my chase until you’re my wife. I must have you, I must.”

  Randee watched the lawman round the corner and disappear down the steps. She felt traitorous to Brody as she dreamily thought, If only Marsh Logan could feel and say such things …

  It was two o’clock in the morning when Randee began to thrash on her bed and to endure a bad dream: She witnessed her father’s murder by rustlers who wore the faces of the Epson Gang; she watched Payton Slade woo, wed, and dupe her mother; she. saw Dee’s husband join the Hollis Ranch to the Slade Ranch and claim it all as his; and she saw how her stepfather’s stare got bolder every day.

  The dream got worse: Randee found herself trapped inside the barn while her mother was occupied with a bath. She felt Payton’s lips and hands on her body. She heard him threaten to kill her mother if she refused him and if she exposed him. She saw her shirt ripped away and Payton bury his face between her breasts. She felt his dirty hand slipping up her thigh. She desperately wanted to scream and resist, but couldn’t because Payton had two of his men standing on the front porch, prepared to enter the house and brutalize her mother if she did so.

  Randee heard her stepfather say, “It’s more fun this way, girl. Keepin’ it a secret makes it more excitin’. Even if you told Dee. about us, she wouldn’t believe you. She would let me strip you an’ beat you for speakin’ such evil about her beloved husband. I like you bein’ real scared an’ wantin’ to kill me, but obeyin’. It makes me real hard for you. You’re my private prisoner, girl. I can do any thin’ to you. I’m sendin’ yore ma on a trip next week to help out at the Kirbys’. While she’s gone, I’ll teach you a few things; you’ll probably like ‘em. In case you get any crazy ideas, I’m sendin’ one of my men with yore ma.”

  Randee awoke trembling and in a sweat. She was breathing erratically and her mouth was dry. She sat up in the bed and tried to clear away all thoughts of the nightmare, parts of which were real. She fetched herself water to wet her lips and throat, then changed into a dry nightgown. She turned and fluffed her pillow and “ straightened the sheets.

  Randee knew she could never return to Kansas, even if that meant never seeing her mother again. She hated knowing that her mother was fooled by Payton Slade, but ignorance kept Dee happy and alive. Randee recalled how she had left her mother a note which said she was running away to New York to seek adventure. She remembered how she had packed and escaped during her mother’s visit to the Kirbys’. She had confided in the Carsons, and finally convinced them that Payton Slade was too powerful to challenge and that her mother wouldn’t take Randee’s word against her stepfather’s. The Carsons had believed her and protected her secrecy. Now they were gone, and Payton Slade would soon be staking his claim on another special ranch. Since she hadn’t exposed Payton’s wickedness in the note, her stepfather had no reason to harm her mother. But how long would he keep Dee around?

  A bold idea entered Randee’s troubled mind. Following the destruction of the Epson Gang, why couldn’t she hire the Durango Kid to, defeat her stepfather? Of course, Payton Slade was not a wanted criminal like the savage gang they would be hunting down legally. Marsh would have to force him into a fight and gun him down! After she explained why she needed Payton killed and if she offered Marsh a great deal of money, surely he would take the additional work.

  When the deed was done, she and her mother could force Payton’s men off the ranch, or they could move here for a fresh start on the Carson Ranch. Somehow she would convince her mother of Payton’s evil, after his death. If Marsh refused the second job, she would plead for Brody’s help, even if she had to marry him to get it. “Don’t worry, Mother, I’m going to save you from that bastard. If we’re both lucky, you’ll discover how bad he is before I come after him.”

  Randee snuggled to her side and closed her eyes. Yes, she mused, they were her problems and she would solve them … .

  By eight forty-five on Thursday, May 18th, Randee had bathed, dressed, eaten breakfast, and followed Brody to the waiting stage. She listened as the driver explained the rules to the passengers: “Don’t drink unless you need to and can share the bottle. Don’t smoke with ladies aboard. No cussing or swearing. Don’t crowd your neighbor or use him for a pillow. No shooting from the coach unless there’s trouble. If we have trouble, be calm until it’s settled. Obey these rules and you’ll enjoy a good ride. If not, you can be put off anywhere to make your way to the nearest town or station, with no refund.”

  Randee and Brody exchanged amused grins as the passengers climbed inside the coach. He handed her a limp, paper-wrapped package. “A present to remember me by, ribbons for your hair. Every time you wear one, think of me and what’s waiting here for you.”

  Randee ignored any stares or cause for gossip to hug the man and kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Brody. I’ll miss you. Stay safe and well.”

  As Brody assisted Randee into the coach, the man on the left slid over to give the coveted window area to the sheriffs “sweetheart.” The route was posted at the office and on the stagecoach door: Wadesville to Fort Worth to Red River Station on the Texas border, across Indian Territory, and into Kansas to Dodge City. It was alleged to be a dusty, bruising, bone-tiring experience of eleven to twelve days, depending on the weather and any trouble along the way. For the passengers’ information and convenience, the schedule was also posted: departure at nine, a ten-minute horse change at a relay station at eleven, a forty-five minute halt for lunch and rest at a home station at one, a ten-minute horse change at another lay station at four, and a halt for the night at six at a home station or town. Since the horses were run fast and hard at eight to nine miles per hour, they were changed every fifteen miles. The driver and guard took their seats, and the momentous journey began at nine o’clock sharp.

  Randee waved farewell to Brody and settled back to make herself as comfortable as possible. She was glad to be sitting against the front boot and facing backward, because that was the best bench available. She did not notice the man who began following the stage at the edge of town ….

  Some of the passengers conversed casually, but avoided the forbidden topics of robberies and Indian attacks.. One woman took out her sewing
for a while until she realized it was impossible to do such work under such jarring conditions. The same was true of a man who tried to read a book. A youth finally took out a’ harmonica and began to entertain the passengers with lively music, which helped to pass the time.

  Around eleven, the stop at the relay station was brief because the attendant was swift and skilled, carrying out his task in less than five minutes. Passengers were not allowed to leave the coach at relay stops unless it. was an emergency.

  At twelve-fifty, the stage halted at a home station for lunch. Randee only picked over the unappealing fare of beans, biscuits, and coffee. Back in the coach, many dozed after the quick meal and exercise. Randee watched the scenery rush by and wondered what lay ahead for her.

  They reached Fort Worth on time and the passengers were on their own for the night, after being ordered to be on time for the morning departure. Randee hired a youth to take her bag to the local hotel, where she registered for the night and paid for a bath to be brought to her room. Afterwards, she went to the hotel restaurant for a decent meal, devouring each delectable bite. She doubted Marsh would join her this soon, and she was right. The night passed in fitful sleep and she was up and ready to leave at nine.

  Some of the passengers were different today, but things went much the same as the day before. Still, she did not see the man who was stealthily following the coach … . Nor did she hear the tales of how the Durango Kid was giving the locals excitement far away in San Antonio …. Nor did she hear of the vicious raid on Bill Sharp’s ranch near Wadesville ….

  Today, her tawny hair was becomingly secured by one of the ribbons from Brody Wade. As she fingered it, she pondered the ruggedly handsome lawman and his stirring revelations. Over and over she considered her plans and options, always finding Marsh Logan in the midst of them. He was something to deal with before her task ended!

  That night, they halted at a home station. Following another unappetizing meal—served with an edible cake for dessert— they listened to music from a fiddler before the women were sent to one room and the men to a different one. Randee was unaccustomed to bedding down with another person, so she slept little. The other woman was the wife of an Army major, on her way to join her husband, who was stationed at Fort Sill just inside Indian Territory. The woman was painfully shy and talked little, despite Randee’s attempts to draw her out for a much needed distraction. At least Indian Territory— one day to become the state of Oklahoma— was heavily dotted with Army posts to protect whites and to keep the Indians on their assigned reservations.

  Saturday passed without trouble, and without an appearance by Marsh Logan. The Red River was nearby and it seemed to warn Randee, “Don’t cross me or you’ll be in deep trouble.” As she tossed in the bed with the other young woman, she wondered what she should do if Marsh didn’t meet her soon as promised. In the morning, they would leave Texas, placing her closer to Kansas and Payton Slade. By the time she reached Dodge City, if she did, her funds would be too low to catch the stage back to Wadesville. She asked herself if she should halt here and turn back, or continue onward. Once she entered Indian Territory, she had no choice but to pass through it into Kansas ….

  Randee stood beside the coach with mounting tension and doubts as the stage was ferried across the river boundary. The driver pulled it into a level clearing and ordered the passengers to reload. Randee hesitated a minute, fear gripping her heart. Had she trusted Marsh too quickly and fully? Had he taken her money and …

  “Miss Hollis,” the familiar voice called out as she was slowly mounting the fold-down step.

  Randee whirled and smiled, her heart pounding fiercely in relief and pleasure. She noticed Marsh’s roguish grin as he told the driver he was picking her up at this point and taking her home. The driver asked if she knew the man and if she agreed to leave the stage with him. Randee smiled at the man and replied, “Yes, sir. It’s fine.”

  Her bag was. tossed down and the stage left them standing there. Randee looked at the gunslinger and demanded, “What kept you so long?”

  “Getting worried, huh?” he teased. “I couldn’t get you sooner, because you were being dogged by Deputy Matthew Johnson. Obviously your loving sheriff asked him to make certain you left Texas alone. He turned back after the ferry started across the river. I suppose old Wade wanted to make sure you didn’t hook up with me in Fort Worth. I made the mistake of telling him in the bank that’s where I was heading. Must have been that robbery attempt that had my brain dulled. I guess he ordered Johnson to follow you until it was clear we weren’t joining up somewhere. Mistrustful sweetheart, isn’t he?”

  “Maybe he just wanted an extra guard on me for protection,” she retorted in annoyance and fatigue. “Brody might not trust you, Durango, but he trusts me totally.”

  “Is that so?” he taunted helplessly.

  Randee glared at him “Yes, it is so,” she replied confidently.

  “I see we’re tired and fussy today. Why don’t we blame it on that bumpy trip and cease this silly quarrel?”

  “I wasn’t quarreling; you were. Let me get changed and we can get out of here,” she suggested to halt the vexing banter.

  “Good, ‘cause that pretty dress would be hard to ride in. I hope you packed some trail clothes like I ordered.”

  Randee sent him another icy glare at his last word, but didn’t challenge it. She took her bag and disappeared behind the thick underbrush near the river. She quickly changed into a split-tail riding skirt, matching shirt, and boots. She strapped on the holster and gun which her father had given to her before his death in ‘68. Ready, she joined Marsh at the horses.

  He eyed the dark blue outfit and smiled approvingly. He tossed her a double-sided saddle bag and said, “Put your things in there. A carpetbag doesn’t tie well to a saddle.”

  Randee caught the leather pouches and said, “Thank you.” She knelt to stuff her garments inside as Marsh watched her attentively. When she stood, he handed her a hat, commenting that she might not have one and would need it on the sunny trail. Again, she thanked him for his foresight and preparation. She was delighted to find that the hat was a perfect fit.

  Before she could check out the horse and saddle he had purchased for her, he handed her a new holster with two guns—Smith & Wesson .44’s. “I’ll teach you to fire with both hands; it might be handy along the way. These guns don’t have to be hand-cocked after each shot, like that Colt you’re wearing. I’ve also put a new Winchester rifle on your saddle.”

  Randee studied the revolvers and rifle, and was pleased. She lifted the gun and checked its weight. “It’s heavier. How’s its accuracy?”

  “You’ll find out when we camp tonight. I don’t want that stage or station to hear gunfire. Just watch its kick if you use it before then; it’s a powerful weapon. I’m sure you’re a good judge of horseflesh and leather, so you’ll see I bought you the best of both.”

  Randee went over the animal thoroughly and skillfully, examining his legs, teeth, eyes, hide, and hooves. Next, she ran her hands over the saddle, outside and underneath. She smiled and nodded her appreciation. “I see you spent the money well, Mr. Logan. Thanks.”

  “I’m glad you like my selections, Miss Hollis,” he replied mirthfully. “They did cost us a mite more than we planned, but they’ll prove their worth in the weeks to come. So will those weapons,” he added as she traded her prized Colt for the new revolvers.

  Randee tied her pouches to her saddle and checked the stirrup length and girth-strap snugness. He told her the chestnut’s name was Rojo, Spanish for red, unless she preferred to change it. “If she’s used to it, there’s no need to confuse her,” Randee said. She gently stroked the mare’s forehead and neck, allowing the animal to accept her touch and smell. She mounted agilely and asked, “Ready to ride, Mr. Logan?”

  “Since we can’t use the ferry without notice, let’s go for a swim, Miss Hollis.” With that statement, he headed down the bank to a safe crossing point and guided his sleek
black stallion into the water.

  Randee removed her boots and held them in her lap to prevent them from filling with water and becoming uncomfortable; plus, she didn’t want her concealed pistol to get soaked. She wasn’t concerned about her skirt tail getting wet as it would dry quickly in the warm sun and the breeze that would be raised when they resumed riding.

  Randee and Marsh forded the river in a short time. Neither one had any trouble with the often dangerous task. Marsh halted long enough for Randee to dry her feet and replace her boots. Accustomed to crossing many rivers during his travels, Marsh had learned how to hold his feet and legs to avoid water-filled boots. But, he realized, Randee’s way was simpler and safer— if you weren’t being chased.

  Conversation was impossible as they rode toward Jacksboro at a swift pace and with Marsh’s intense concentration on their surroundings. Randee noted that ‘clearly this was a man who stayed on alert and who constantly gathered numerous perceptions at the same time. They halted briefly around noon, to rest and to water the horses and to eat cold biscuits with baked ham. The sparse fare was washed down with water since Marsh thought it best not to make a campfire for coffee. During that stop, he kept busy and to himself, so Randee did the same.

  As they traveled, both had similar thoughts: each other. Both knew that each was being watched and tested by the other. All day, Marsh pushed the lovely blonde hard and fast to test her strength and mettle. Randee surmised his behavior and motive, and proved herself.

  Marsh recalled what Randee Hollis had said about hiring a “special man” … . “only the best.” Since it was he who was with her right now— and not the other two applicants she had mentioned— that revealed her high opinion of his prowess. He took the lead to avoid her tempting distraction, as watching her would surely take his mind off of the road.