Passions Wild And Free

by Janelle Taylor

  “What’s the trouble here?” Foley Timms asked from behind her.

  Randee turned and glared at the offensive man. “You’re a disgrace to that silver star, Marshal Timms. How could you beat an unharmed, imprisoned man? I insist on speaking with Marsh Logan.”

  Timms shrugged and said, “Fine.”

  Randee could not conceal her astonishment. She was led inside to Marsh’s cell and the door was unlocked. She feared a trap, but had to continue her action. “Marsh?” she called to him, shaking his sagging shoulder. His eyes opened slightly and looked at her. “I’ll get a doctor.”

  Marsh summoned his flagging strength and said, “Don’t bother, woman. Just get out of my sight. You’re the reason I’m here. If you hadn’t distracted me with your pretty face and body, I would be free.”

  “What?” she murmured confusedly, anguish gnawing at her.

  Marsh had to say anything to get Randee out of there, or she would be in worse peril than he was. He had to save her because he loved her. He wanted her gone. He didn’t want her seeing him and remembering him like this— a beaten animal, one caged and whipped.

  “You heard the man, Miss Hollis; go home. He’s already confessed, so there ain’t nothing you can do to stop his hanging.”

  “I’ve sent for help, Marsh; don’t give up hope. We have until Monday noon. After all you’ve done to help capture that gang, even if you’re guilty of being Storm Hayden, they’ll pardon you.”

  “Get out, woman; it’s too late. Those posters are for real.”

  Randee didn’t care if the men heard her words as she refuted, “You’re just saying that to make me leave. I won’t go!”

  Each word came forth with agony and difficulty as he scoffed deceitfully, cruelly, “Don’t you understand, woman? I was only using you. I’m no better than Payton Slade. I wouldn’t ever marry a woman I could have so easily. I was only enjoying you on the trail and aggravating Brody Wade. I wanted that reward you were offering so I could leave Texas. I told you I was no good, a carefree rogue, a drifter; but that’s the only truth I spoke to you.”

  “That isn’t true! Why are you saying such things?” she asked painfully. “Let me help you. When the telegraph lines are repaired, I’ll alert the State Police. Help will arrive in time to save you.”

  He tried to say coldly and unfeelingly, “Are you deaf, woman? I’m guilty, so they won’t release me. You don’t know me. You’re just as blind and gullible as your mother, and I duped you as easily as Payton Slade duped her. Get her out of here, Marshal.”

  “You heard him, Miss Hollis. Consider yourself lucky we caught him before he used you up and while Sheriff Wade still wants you. He’s the one who put out that false tale about you being Hayden’s captive so you wouldn’t be harmed or arrested. As a favor to Brody, I’m letting you go, but you deserve to hang with him if you ask me.”

  Randee stared at Marsh, who was eyeing her so bitterly and coldly. Tears dampened her lashes and she could not seem to move. “Are you sure this is the way you want it, Marsh?” she asked sadly.

  “Don’t beg, woman, you’re too strong and proud for groveling. I rode my path like I wanted to; now, it’s time to pay the price. If I don’t try to escape again and get myself beaten for it, I’ll be able to walk to the gallows like a man.”

  “Is that how you want to be remembered, for dying like a man?”

  “What else is there in the end? Go home, Randee, and beg your sweetheart to forgive you for letting me make a fool of you.”

  “You certainly accomplished that, Mr. Logan. You won’t mind if I don’t hang around to watch you go out with pride.”

  “You should. Spurned women should enjoy their revenge.”

  “I’m only vengeful when it comes to the Epson Gang. Too bad you won’t be around to witness their defeat. Good-bye, Marsh.”

  Marsh glanced at her, praying his gaze and voice wouldn’t expose his torment and love. If she believed him and left town, she would be safe. He knew she wouldn’t return to Brody Wade, and he hoped she would recover the hidden money and go somewhere to begin a new life. Mercy, how he hated for that life not to include him.

  Randee looked at Marshal Foley Timms and said, “It appears you were right, Marshal Timms, but I’m not going to apologize. No matter who or what he is, what you’ve done to him is terrible. Whatever happened to civilized law and order?”

  The defiled lawman sneered. “It exists only when and where men allow it, Miss Hollis. I’ll escort you back to the hotel.”

  Randee replied, “No thank you. I can find my own way back. I’m used to taking care of myself. What time is the stage Monday?”

  “Ten o’clock,” the other man answered.

  Randee hurriedly left the sheriffs office and returned to her rented room. She flung herself across the bed and cried. Not because she believed Marsh—she did not— but because of how cruelly he had been treated and because he had groveled to save her life.

  “What now, my love?” she murmured, feeling utterly helpless.

  At the jail, in a desperate attempt to obtain information, Marsh was beaten again by Foley Timms and his two men. …

  Randee arranged her bed to make it appear as if she were sleeping there, in the event someone peeked into her room during the night. After scanning the area below, she climbed out her window and dropped to the ground in the alley. She halted and listened for danger, detecting none. She made her way to the livery stable and broke into a side window. The nervous blonde saddled both horses and sneaked them out the back way. Gingerly she walked them to the rear of the store next to the jail and dropped their reins to keep them from leaving.

  She cautiously made her way to the barred window of Marsh’s cell and, using a discarded wooden box, peered inside the jail. There was one man on duty inside the office, asleep with his head on the desk. Marsh wasn’t moving, and she dared not try to signal him. Was it her imagination, she wondered, or did he look worse?

  Randee looked around the corner of the building and saw another guard on the porch, one who was leaning against the wall and appeared to be dozing. Her narrowed green eyes roamed the dark street and she prayed no other guards were hidden from sight. It would be like Foley Timms to expect her behavior and to be ready to thwart her.

  Still, she had to take this chance as security might be tighter tomorrow night. She drew her pistol and edged her way along the wall. Reaching the man, she rendered him unconscious with a blow to the head. Positioning him so he would not fall over, she propped his hat to cover his eyes. She searched his pockets and found no key. She would have no choice now but to awaken the guard at the desk and try to bluff her way into the jail. It was unnecessary, as the door was not bolted.

  She inhaled deeply and wondered if she should halt this madness. She could not. She eased open the door and slipped inside, watching the dozing guard carefully. She sneaked closer and closer until she reached him, then rendered him unconscious in the same manner. Grabbing the cell keys, she unlocked the door and rushed to Marsh’s side.

  He had been beaten again. She tried “to arouse him, but his injured body resisted. She fetched a water bucket and splashed water on his face, slightly reviving him. “We have to get out of here, partner,” she whispered close to his ear.

  Marsh’s swollen eyes blinked in confusion and he tried to speak through lips which were puffy and bruised. He ached all over and he feared he had broken ribs. Dried blood and. still-flowing red liquid seemingly covered his handsome face. “It’s to-o late, Ran-dee. Get a-way … from here.”

  “Not without you, partner. Gather your strength and help me get you to our horses. I’m not letting you hang, Monday or ever.”

  Throbbing pain viciously attacked him when he tried to obey, and his mind spun dizzily when he lifted his head. He knew he could not make it and she was endangering herself. “Get out, woman; I don’t wan-t you … near me.”

  “That’s too bad, partner, because I’m saving your ass whether you help me or not.” Randee
threw a blanket to the floor and rolled Marsh off the bunk as gently as possible. When he groaned in agony, she ordered, “Shut up, Logan; you’ve been in worse pain and perils before.” Grasping the edges of the material, she shrugged and heaved as she dragged him. along the floor until she reached the back door, breathing erratically at her arduous exertions. “Damn, but you’re heavy. Lend assistance any time the mood strikes you,” she teased.

  Randee unbolted the back door and looked outside. All appeared safe. She left Marsh where he was, out cold again, and went to fetch a drunk who had fallen in the alley. She managed to get the dazed man on his feet, and helped him wobble into the cell. She placed him on the bunk and covered him, hoping he would be mistaken for Marsh long enough for them to get far away from this dangerous town.

  Returning to her love’s prone body, she finally managed to arouse Marsh enough to get him to his horse. She was overjoyed when Midnight obeyed her command to get down closer to the ground. She labored until she had Marsh bound securely to his saddle. Quickly, she returned to fetch his weapons. She closed the jail door and mounted Rojo, hanging Marsh’s gunbelt over her pommel.”

  Taking Marsh’s reins, she walked the two horses down the alley to the edge of town. She hesitated for a few minutes and listened intently, then walked them away from the shelter of the last building. Marsh was unconscious, but he couldn’t fall off his horse, and hopefully he couldn’t feel much pain, as the impending ride would be swift and tormenting in his battered condition. There was no time to tend his injuries, so she headed for a secret place which she recalled, a place which would require over a day’s ride without many stops… .

  An hour later, Foley Timms unlocked Randee’s door and sneaked a glance inside. Noting the shapely bundle in her bed, he grinned and left. He had them both fooled. He wasn’t planning to hang Marsh Logan Monday; that would be too dangerous and suspicious. He was planning to let Miss Randee Hollis free him tomorrow night, after she saw him again and couldn’t help herself. He wasn’t deceived by their words and conduct; those two had something between them, something Brody wasn’t going to like at all. Once the ravishing blonde helped Marsh escape, he would take a posse to hunt them down and have Marsh slain during his attempted escape. Who could blame him under the circumstances? No one, Foley decided smugly.

  At the jail, the guard outside had awakened. He had looked inside to see the other man sleeping peacefully and the prisoner still lying on his bunk. He assumed, that while dozing, he had struck his head against the wall and knocked himself out cold. When Foley Timms walked over to check on things before retiring for the night, the man unknowingly pointed inside to the drunk and said, “All’s fine, Marshal. Not a peep from anyone.” He closed the door.

  It was nearly three in the morning. The devious marshal was exhausted from his gambling, whoring, drinking, and from the beating of his captive. Foley Timms stretched and yawned. “I don’t expect trouble tonight, but keep alert. She’ll make her move tomorrow just like I said. We’ll set our plan into motion in the morning. Good night.”

  Randee pushed them all night and all day Sunday, halting briefly several times for the horses to rest and graze, and to handle a few vital tasks. At each stop, she forced water down Marsh’s throat and checked him closely. She had bandaged his injuries as best she could at the first available opportunity, paying special attention to his cracked ribs, which she had bound snugly with cloth and rope. She knew he needed to be lying flat, but it was impossible to stop. She couldn’t even risk going to another town or fetching a doctor, because the same thing could happen. Or worse, they could send for Marshal Foley Timms. Surely by now their escape was known and a posse was swiftly pursuing them. They had to keep going, even if the unconscious Marsh wasn’t aware of their actions and progress.

  Randee had taken every precaution she could think of, from dusting their trail with underbrush, to traveling in water to conceal their tracks, to doubling back, to making a false trail one time. But she couldn’t afford any more delays. She had to get Marsh to a secluded line-shack on the Carson Ranch where she could take better care of him. Thank goodness, she knew a lot about injuries and doctoring, but travel was the worst thing for a man with such injuries. The house, and the attic, were both too dangerous to use.because Brody would probably check them and have them watched. With luck, no one knew about the deserted shack in the thick tree line miles from the house… .

  Chapter Twenty

  Daylight was almost gone by the time they reached the line-shack. Quickly, Randee checked the sturdy structure and surrounding area, relieved to see that it appeared as safe and secluded as she remembered. She coaxed Midnight to lie down so she could cut the ropes which held Marsh to the animal and saddle. She let him remain there a while, knowing he must be in agonizing pain from their swift journey—if he had enough awareness to even feel pain. The few times that he had roused, it had not been fully, and she could imagine the haze of torment which must be dulling his mind.

  She prepared a rope corral near a stream and led the horses there to graze and rest. She talked soothingly to them, thanking them for their assistance and hoping they could understand they had saved two lives with their demanding pace and loyalties. As gently as possible, she dragged the unconscious man inside and labored until she had him on a cot. She removed his boots and clothes and checked his injuries. His body was bruised and bleeding in several places. She tended him gently.

  Not once did Marsh stir, and she was worried. She paid close attention to his head injury and blackish-blue rib area. What if she had pushed him too hard and done worse damage to her love? No, she scolded herself, it was worse to hang for crimes he hadn’t committed.

  Randee knew they needed food. Marsh especially would need hot soup to revitalize his ailing body and to get past his tumescent lips. Hopefully Brody would assume she couldn’t make it this far and this fast with a badly injured man so he wouldn’t check the Carson Ranch today. She mounted Rojo bareback and headed for the house. If she was lucky, there would be vegetables still growing wild in the garden, and the telegraph lines would still be down, preventing a message to Brody.

  The young woman approached the area cautiously. Everything was still and quiet. No doubt Brody would arrive tomorrow and place a guard on the house. Hurriedly she went inside and gathered supplies, then raced to the garden to pick vegetables. She carried as much as she could manage to where Rojo was waiting patiently. After covering their tracks, she headed back to where she had left Marsh.

  Randee locked the door and approached Marsh. He hadn’t moved. Again, she tended his wounds—this time with the medicine which she had taken from the house— but he did not stir. She prepared a fire, concluding it was safe to allow escaping smoke at night, and cooked a large pot of soup. She mashed the vegetables into a soft mush and added liquid, then tried to force some down Marsh’s throat. She succeeded in getting only a little inside him, but that was better than none at all. Time and sleep were what he needed most.

  The sun would be rising soon, so Randee doused the fire. The covered soup would stay warm a long time, and she would try to feed him again in a few hours. Randee hadn’t slept since Saturday morning, and it was nearly dawn Monday. She was exhausted; her body ached and pleaded for mercy. She examined Marsh once more, and believed he was breathing easier this time. She tossed a thin cover over his naked frame. After unrolling her sleeping bag, she collapsed on it and closed her eyes. If trouble came, there was little she could do, and nothing if she was too dazed by fatigue to think or react.

  “Help us and protect us,” she prayed, then yielded to slumber.

  Shortly after noon, Randee was yanked from dreamland by Marsh’s moans and thrashings upon the wooden cot. She was at his side instantly. “It’s all right, Marsh. We’re safe now. Lie still and quiet.”

  His tumid blue eyes moved and opened very slowly. He tried to clear his wits, but the pain from head to foot attacked him maliciously. He groaned and winced and breathed erratically.
<
br />   She caught his hand before he could rub his sore eyes and held it. “Don’t move or try to talk, partner, or you’ll do worse damage than I did with that bone-jarring ride. We’re miles from that town, Marsh, so you’re safe,” she told him soothingly. “I was afraid to look for a doctor, but I’ve tended you as best I could. Can you eat some soup? It’ll make you stronger.”

  “Where … are … we?” he asked, struggling with each word. “How— “ He was too weak to finish, but she understood.

  Randee explained the jailbreak and their location. “Is there anything I can do to lessen the pain? Did I miss an injury?”

  Marsh looked at her pale face, so full of love and concern, and he tried to smile. He grimaced instead because his jaw and mouth hurt; even his teeth protested. “I said … some … terrible— “

  Randee touched his swollen mouth lightly and hushed him. “I know you didn’t mean them. You were only trying to save my hide.”

  “Don’t make me laugh,” he entreated almost pitifully. “I’m one big ache.”

  “Sorry, partner. It’s just that I’m so damn glad you’re alive and awake. You had me worried. You’ve been out since Saturday night.”

  He glanced at the window. Randee had shielded it, so he couldn’t determine what kind of light was filtering inside. More so, he had a hard time focusing his puffy eyes. “What day is it?”

  “Monday,” she replied, just before he went back to sleep.

  Randee stroked his ebony hair and kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, my love, I won’t let anyone harm you. I love you, Marsh Logan, and I can’t lose you now, not ever. Please get well.”

  Marsh roused again about nine that night. Randee was at his side quickly to force him to lie still. When he asked about the date, she told him it was still Monday, the day he was to have been hanged.