He mentally eyed his lengthy list of enemies and problems: Carl Bush, the Epson Gang, Foley Timms, George Light, bounty hunters, misguided lawmen, and possibly Brody Wade and Payton Slade. There were too many perils involved, too many dangerous people to allow Randee to continue working and traveling with him … .
Chapter Eighteen
In Kansas on Thursday morning, Payton Slade curiously eyed the fat packet which had arrived earlier with his wife’s name on it. The Wadesville, Texas return address caught his attention. He knew that was where Dee’s older brother lived on a sprawling ranch, which was reputed to be one of the finest in the Lone Star State.
As he was heading toward the house, Payton abruptly halted and stared at the bulging envelope. What, his wicked mind asked, if it contained news of Randee? A surge of delight and eagerness was promptly replaced by dread. What if that cunning bitch had shown up at her uncle’s place in Texas and betrayed him to her kin, and they were warning Dee, or threatening to take legal action against him? He shuddered and scowled. He could handle his groveling wife, but Lee Carson or the authorities … Payton experienced a moment of shock and terror at the thought of being unmasked and punished, of losing all he had obtained. That petrified sensation enraged and hardened him, as did the memory of his stepdaughter’s humiliating trickery. He vividly recalled the wintry night she had guilefully enticed, seductively enchanted, and rashly duped him.
A mixture of powerful emotions raced wildly through his mind and body, but the most dominant one was erotic revenge because it encompassed so many feelings and desires: lust, vengeance, triumph, and pleasure. Never, he smugly decided, would Randee Hollis expose her dirty little secret and risk humiliation, or risk being held all or partly to blame for the sinful episodes. Nor would she risk shaming and hurting her mother, or forcing her mother to bear witness against her. Never would Randee challenge him without evidence, and there was none; he had made certain of it. If there was one thing that girl knew, it was how dangerous he could be, which was the obvious reason why she had not exposed him before escaping.
Payton grinned satanically as he begrudgingly admitted he was impressed by Randee’s courage and daring. His ravishing and tempting stepdaughter was a rare treasure to own and use. The girl was smart; she knew when to be afraid and when to be brave. She had spirit, fire, vitality; and he wanted to be the master of all her traits.
Intoxicating excitement charged through him and sent his mind to spinning madly. What if there was still a chance of locating that reckless vixen and bringing her back home as his slave? Naturally, the insidious man mused, after she was properly disciplined and cowed! When he finished with her punishment and subjugation, she would never again trick him or disobey him or leave him … or refuse him anything.
Payton hurried to the barn for privacy. His hands trembled with anticipation as he ripped open the missive, spilling most of its contents on the ground. He scooped them up and leaned against a stall to read them. He was astonished by the incredible enclosures. He nervously paced back and forth as he went over each paper, time and time again.
He laughed heartily as he murmured, “By God, girl, yore quite a woman, a real spitfire. You fooled yore step-pa once, but n’er again.”
Immediately Payton Slade mentally planned his journey to Texas to recover his beautiful stepdaughter and to look over his new property. After he checked out the Carson spread, he would decide which ranch to sell and where to live. He needed to take along a few of his men to deal with this “notorious outlaw” who was playing games with his golden treasure. He wouldn’t tell his wife anything about this business, until it was settled. Besides, she was still in bed from her miscarriage last week and didn’t deserve to be treated kindly after daring to lose his first child. If he could get Randee back under his control, he wouldn’t need to get his current wife “to breeding” again soon! Actually,” he concluded evilly, he wouldn’t need Dee Hollis Slade at all … .
Salacious dreams filled his distorted mind. He could be in Wadesville within a week, seeking control of both, his valuable properties. If he could get hold of Randee and the Carson Ranch, they could begin a new life where nobody had to learn he had been her stepfather before his wife’s— her mother’s— tragic demise … . In Texas, he would be far away from where he had committed so many as-yet-undiscovered crimes. He would be safe and happy, prosperous and powerful, rich and sated ….
It was late that same afternoon when Marsh finished his letter to President Grant. If anything happened to him, or to Willard Mason—one of the few men who knew his real identity—he needed to share the information he had gathered on the Epson Gang with someone he trusted above all others: his boss, the President. A small town was located not too far from where they were resting; he could mail this crucial missive there and also obtain current information on the gang’s actions, as he needed to learn where they were raiding this week. The next thing he needed to do was take Randee back to Fort Worth and place her in Willard Mason’s care, to be sent back East swiftly to join the newspaperman’s family, where she would be safe until this case was solved.
Marsh glanced over at the reclining woman who had stolen his heart and softened it. The sun was beginning to set, causing a seductive golden glow on Randee’s tawny hair and skin. The suffusion of honey-colored light which generously flowed over her was seductive, alluring, enhancing. He recalled her anger at his calling her a golden treasure, but that described her perfectly. Her green eyes were closed, unmoving. Her lips and skin were soft, inviting. Her flaxen hair fell gently to the bedroll upon which she was possibly asleep, presenting him with a favorable look at her silky throat. He wanted to spread kisses down it, across her face, over every inch of her from head to toe.
Marsh’s body and spirit ached for a union with hers. They hadn’t slept together—made love—in nearly a week. There had been no time or place or proper mood for it. He admitted the truth to himself: He didn’t want sex from Randee Hollis; sex could be taken anywhere and at any speed from any obliging female. He wanted to love her slowly and sweetly, swiftly and ravenously— but all with special meaning, with total giving and sharing and taking. Mercy, how he missed being close to her, physically and emotionally.
From the beginning, they had respected and accepted each other in all ways. They had valued each other’s strengths, and accepted each other’s weaknesses. She had always been there, was here, for him whenever he reached out for her.
Yet, his love and desire for her could get her killed. He had to break off their relationship while he still possessed the strength, means, and time to do so. He realized he had been distant— moody and unresponsive—lately, and that should work in his favor ….
Randee lay still and quiet as she wondered what Marsh was doing and thinking and feeling. To whom was he writing? About what? Why wasn’t he being a partner anymore— sharing information, thoughts, ideas, suspicions, his skills, himself? She perceived that something was happening inside that handsome head. Marsh had not made love to her since Wadesville. He had not touched her or been open since she killed that bounty hunter and saved his life. She sensed that he was getting ready to drop her, to desert her, to end their love affair and partnership. The sad blonde knew she would protest loudly and fiercely, but she doubted it would do any good this time ….
Randee sat up as Marsh announced, “Let’s head to a small town nearby so I can mail this letter. When we get there, I want you to hide and wait for me. I’ll need to visit the saloon for information, and you’re not allowed inside. I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour, two at the most. Then, we’ll head to that private place to camp so we can talk. There’s something we have to settle tonight.”
Dread—and relief— filled Randee at his last statement. He was being secretive about the letter, acting warily, and she thought it best not to press him until later that night. It was definitely time for them to have a talk, an honest and enlightening one. She nodded understanding and agreement, then stood to pack and leave
.
Aware she had hardly spoken to him or looked at him today, he started to ask her what was wrong, then realized how contradictory that was. Obviously she was responding in like manner to his mood and behavior. He wanted to apologize, to comfort her, to explain, but he couldn’t. He had to stand firm and appear selfishly insensitive if he was going to persuade her to leave his side tomorrow.
Marsh slipped into the Texas Sentinel office and scanned the papers for the last week, discovering something curious about the gang’s raids. Secondly, the ebony-clad man sneaked into the stage depot and placed his letter to President Grant—under a code name—in the appropriate pouch. According to the schedule posted, the mail would be picked up tomorrow and should be … Marsh’s eyes widened and he stared at the poster on the wall before him:
STORM HAYDEN WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE FOR CRIMES IN NEBRASKA TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD
Marsh felt his respiration speed up, as did his heart rate. This wasn’t one of the old, false posters from a past mission. This one was newly printed, different, and his sketch was revealingly accurate. The reward was a lie. Somebody wanted him dead, swiftly, badly.
It was night, but plenty of light was available because the moon had been full yesterday. Marsh left the office and headed down the street, where his horse was waiting obediently. He never had to secure the stallion’s reins to a hitching post, which was a big advantage when he was forced to leave town or escape camp quickly. The animal was highly intelligent, exceedingly well-trained, and totally loyal.
Marsh went to full alert as he noticed other posters tacked up here and there, proclaiming perilous lies. Some enemy had been real busy during the past few days! He wondered if these false posters were everywhere by now. If they didn’t get him killed, they positively would compel him to straighten out this devious matter before continuing his mission. Maybe, he decided with a frown, that was the motive behind them— to slow him down or to halt him permanently from chasing the Epson Gang. The question was, who was responsible for them?
A shout to Marsh’s left seized his attention: “There he is! It’s him all right! Come on, boys, let’s earn us twenty thousand dollars!”
Marsh reacted instantly, taking cover behind a building and firing warning shots in the air. He whistled for Midnight, who came galloping to his rescue. Marsh knew he could not kill innocent but misguided people; even if his life was at stake. Yet, if he was chased and captured, he probably would be slain before he could convince the money-crazed mob of his innocence. The best thing was to make a run for it, then clear up this matter later, from Fort Worth. He leapt upon the stallion’s back and raced from town. Marsh wished he could have fled in the other direction, away from where his beautiful partner was hiding. He heard gunshots, shouts, and hoofbeats behind him. The pursuit was on, but he had to lead them away from his love.
Randee heard the thundering hooves coming in her direction, then suddenly veer off to the left. She mounted the chestnut’s back and topped the rolling hill before her. In the bright moonlight, she saw Marsh galloping across the open grassland with a group of seven men chasing him, firing at him! She observed the way her love headed back to the right, toward the trees, and realized he had skirted the area where she was concealed. She tried not to panic, because Marsh had a good head start on them; yet, he was not defending himself … .
Randee quickly and intelligently assessed their pace and direction, the perils involved in helping Marsh, and the chances of her success. She patted the chestnut’s neck and murmured, “Let’s help him, Rojo.”
The blonde rode swiftly and skillfully to intercept the rider and pursuers. It was apparent Marsh was not returning their gunfire, so he must have a good reason, one in which she mustn’t interfere. She couldn’t do anything to cause his capture or to force him to defend her. She needed to slow the men down, give Marsh time to lose them.
Randee topped another hill and checked out the situation again. They were galloping down the road which eventually curled back toward her, not far away. Marsh and Midnight had a good lead on them now. She left her mount hidden and hurriedly made her way to the dirt road. After securing one end of her rope to a tree, she stretched it across the road on the ground. Then, she concealed herself behind a large tree to keep Marsh from sighting her and halting. In the dark, and with the noise, he should miss her intervention, which was probably for the best.
After Marsh galloped past, with trembling fingers, she hastily raised the rope and secured the other end tightly to the second tree. She heard shouts and pounding hooves, and her heart throbbed fearfully. She ran toward the bushes and fell on the grass behind them, making certain she was out of sight, motionless and silent.
Yelps of surprise and pain filled her ears as the riders were yanked from their horses by the taut rope barrier and sent thuddingly to the hard ground. The men had been grouped closely, which disallowed reaction time to avoid being unhorsed and having the wind knocked from their lungs. She heard frightened animals whicker and paw the ground in tension, and heard a couple run off down the road as their owners tried to regain enough breath to shout to them to halt. Within minutes, curses reached her alert ears, and strange words ….
One man remounted quickly and went after the two runaway horses. The others dusted themselves off and checked for injuries. The cowboys were angered at being tricked and at losing their valuable captive. Until their friend’ returned with the two lost mounts, they cursed and fumed and planned what to do. The unanimous decision was to search for the cunning outlaw. Assuming the man they were chasing was alone, had duped them, and had continued his escape long ago, they mounted and galloped down the road again, taking Randee’s rope.
Randee waited until the sounds faded into near silence, then returned to where Rojo was secured. She mounted the mare and galloped to a hilltop to scan the area. Sighting a thick cloud of dust, she knew which direction the irate band of men was taking. Her keen gaze searched the area for any sign of Marsh, but found none.
The logical thing was to return to where he had left her and to wait for his return. But the men from town were riding in that direction, making it dangerous for her and Marsh to head that way. She pondered how they could link up again. Assuming she would guess why he didn’t return to her side, what would he expect her to do? Where would he look for her? If he looked for her …
Randee knew she was west of Fort Worth by at least a day’s ride. Wadesville was southeast of her present position; Fort Richardson was northwestward. “Which one, Marsh?” she murmured thoughtfully.
Recalling what he had said about “that private place to camp,” she tried to remember the mumbled direc-. tions he had mentioned before leaving her outside that little town. Her mind elsewhere, Randee had paid little attention to words which she had not realized she would need. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to envision the scene. earlier and trying to hear Marsh’s words.
Taking a chance she could locate the campsite, Randee headed eastward, away from the town and away from the last direction in which she had seen her partner heading swiftly. And his pursuers.
Shadows surrounded her and moved eerily in the breeze. She remained on full alert. She had to travel slowly and gingerly, as peril could be lurking behind any tree or hill. Randee rode for over two hours before reaching the location which she felt certain was the correct one. Before her, in the thick cover of trees and tangled underbrush, stood a small shack. Cautiously she approached it, and was relieved to find it empty. She looked around and heard nothing threatening.
After Rojo was unsaddled, the chestnut mare grazed on lush grass and drank water from a narrow stream nearby. Randee did not enter the shack, as she did not want to be entrapped there if danger arrived in any form. She made camp behind the unpainted wooden structure, which could last another five years in this climate. She did not make a fire and she did not eat. After spreading out her bedroll, the anxious blonde sat on it and waited.
Randee heard the sounds and movements of
nocturnal birds, creatures, and insects. She was not afraid of nature, but she was afraid for her love. What if he hadn’t gotten away tonight? What if others had found him? What if he didn’t think to look for her here?
The moon had gone beyond its overhead position, telling her it was long past midnight. Still, she sat on the bedroll, staring into the darkness which surrounded her. She was too apprehensive to be sleepy or hungry. If Marsh didn’t appear by morning, what should she do?
After ambushing Marsh’s pursuers with the rope, she had been hiding close enough to the road to hear most of their words. What was all that talk about “wanted” posters and a huge reward for Storm Hayden? Marsh had told her that Nebraska outlaw episode was settled. And why were they saying to be careful not to harm the “female hostage” who was being forced to travel with him? Since she had heard the words “Sheriff Brody Wade’s fiancee,” didn’t that explain the perilous matter to her troubled mind? The men had talked of whether or not Storm Hayden was riding with the Epson Gang, which was now raiding east of Fort Worth, out of the target area. Randee went over many facts, speculations, and doubts. Too many things made sense to her …
Marsh’s voice sliced coldly and abruptly into her rambling thoughts, “You shouldn’t have come here, Randee, but I figured you would. It’s too damn dangerous to hang around me; our partnership is over. I can’t call off this quest, but you can’t continue it with me. Get away from me and this bloody mess before you’re injured or killed.”
Passions Wild And Free Page 37