Silver, Gold And Deception: Catalina Wilde Western Adventure (Half Breed Haven Book 4)

by A. M. Van Dorn

  More violence against women! First Ian Oaksford not only beating Noelle but admitting to the murder of his own wife, all because he was free to walk the streets, thanks to help from that slimeball Kincaid. Now it wasn't enough these brutes had wiped out Signe's immediate family, but she was somewhere out there at the mercy of some animal and had been for hours.

  If only she known … she couldn’t have missed their departure from the Torvold farm by very much. There would have been time to mount a rescue even if had meant giving up any chance to save Nels by getting him to the doctor. There was little doubt in her mind that if the man was anything like her own beloved father he would have traded his life for the safety of his daughter.

  Suddenly she found her whip leaving her hand, snatched away by Ingemar Johansen. With an almost detachment she watched as he raised it. Sure, she could have stopped him and gotten it back but she understood what was about to happen. Nels and Signe Torvold and all the others butchered on that farm had been his blood.

  “Yeearghhhh!!!” The pain held in that scream set Cole and Crick Naughton to cursing as the lash fell on Vic’s back. The same shriek came a second time only louder when the bullwhip unfurled again. This time the brothers fell silent as the realization that they could be next dawned on them. Johansen raised the whip for a third time but Catalina had clamped onto his wrist and she wordlessly stared him down until he finally lowered it and turned it back over to her as Vic collapsed to the ground whimpering.

  “If I had my way, all of you would feel this lash,” Johansen finally said, his voice little more than a whisper as he eyed the other Naughtons. Bergendahl’s big hand fell on the man’s shoulder in support even as he kept his gun trained on the brothers.

  "Okay, we ride!" Catalina called out. "We are gonna save Signe and along the way, you jaspers are gonna tell me everythin' about what went down at that farm, and how you wound up there in the first place. Lie and it won't be Johansen with the whip this time. It'll be me usin' it and I can use it in ways you wouldn't even be able to come up with in your wildest nightmares! Comprende?"

  ***

  By the time the group had made back to the outskirts of the town, darkness was gone from the skies. Though the sun had yet to thrust its way above the rim of the valley and bring forth its gift of illumination as it had done since the days when the earth was but a newborn, there was plenty of light to be had.

  For Catalina who lay in the woods near the two-room log cabin nestled at the base of a barren hill it meant she would have to take a stealthier approach. Eager to keep her advance on the cabin a surprise as long as possible she had dropped to her belly.

  Moving slowly with caution she began to pull herself forward using whatever might be available, be it tree roots or rocks. Wriggling along like this she had been taught was the quietest way to sneak up on an enemy. It had been something she had learned from her younger brother Blue River. This soon filled her thoughts with her brother as she made her way ever forward over the damp ground.

  Recently he had been put in charge of the Wilde’s timber operation after apprenticing for some time, but before he had been training, he had been a brave with his tribe of Yavapai. Her brother’s life was not an easy one. There were those of both his races that resented him. As she had said in Halmstad, he looked every bit like a pureblooded Indian save for his vivid blue eyes. Many a Yavapai felt his presence was a reminder of the devastating split in their tribe. A split that that led to the savage warrior Black Hawk breaking away and taking his loyalists with him to launch his war on the white man. There was no way Black Hawk could remain in the tribe knowing he had lost the woman he loved to a white man who had born that man a son … Blue River.

  At the timber operation, there were those that were naturally distrustful of Indians. Especially when it became known that his half-sister Bright Feather was blood kin to Black Hawk himself, leader of the band of warriors the whites had dubbed the Omegas. Through that tenuous tie, there had been distrust of Blue River, but the smart lumberjacks on the logging crews kept it to themselves. The ones foolish enough to speak up found themselves bounced off the ranch personally by the combination of Lijuan, her hammer, and the other three sisters. Cedar Ledge was the last place in the world where intolerance was welcome.

  Knowing she had to focus on her task at hand, she checked her thoughts on her brother and continued. Inch followed inch as she made her way through the dew-coated ground. It was unlikely the man was going to be outside, but there was no sense in tipping him off with a careless snapping of a twig or some other noise.

  For a moment she froze as something suddenly leaped in front of her and stopped. Her heart was beating like a frenzied drum, but then she shook her head feeling foolish. It was only a large brown rabbit. It looked at her for a moment with its nose twitching and then continued to hop along its way. She waited for a moment for her heart to slow back to normal after the unexpected scare. Thank God, Honor Elizabeth wasn't here to see that or else the teasing she would endure would have no expiration date. She was about to get moving again when suddenly something else moved by slowly in front of her, paying her no mind, its focus was on stalking the now-vanished rabbit. It was a young fox, and it was on the hunt. She wished the rabbit luck and began moving again.

  Catalina knew she was getting close as she raised her head to get a better look at what lay ahead. In the increasing light, she could just make out the roof of the cabin through the trees. Lower down she spied something else near where the trees gave away to the empty land around the structure, but she could not make out what it was. Shaking her head, she continued on knowing she would find out soon enough.

  ***

  Inside the cabin, Jed Naughton stood over the bed housing the inert form. With agitation, he was stroking his bearded chin, still able to feel the rough bristles with his calloused fingers. It had been a long, wasted night, and now he was starting to regret not going with his brothers. Wiping out the peace delegation heading for the Yavapai settlement would have been a hell of a lot more fun than waiting for this bitch to come to.

  He watched as her bare chest gently rose and fell and thought back to when they were attacking the Torvold farm. This feisty one had burst into a room wielding a shotgun intent on gunning down Cole who was in the process of taking a swing at Nels Torvolds's father who had been living with the family since the death of his wife. Unfortunately for her, Jed had been standing to one side of the door when she burst in with a shotgun, and he had cold-cocked her with the butt of his pistol.

  Truly it must have been one hell of a blow because from the moment he had thrown her prostrate form over the back of his horse until now she had yet to regain consciousness. When they had first got back to the shack and he’d thrown her on the bed, he thought for sure she would come to, especially when he had yanked her dress down to her waist to get a look at the treats he was about to enjoy, but she hadn’t. Hours later after he remained behind, he made a few more attempts to wake her by jostling her, shouting at her, and at one point in frustration he had muttered, “Let’s see if my smoke can’t help bring you around.” Jed had touched the lit cigarette he was smoking to her bare shoulder, but her eyelids had remained closed, though for a moment he thought he had seen them twitch.

  Now it was dawn, his brothers would be back soon, and he hadn’t been able to derive any of the pleasure he had imagined about forcing himself on such a beauty. Jed blew out a sigh of disappointment through his lips as he reached for his gun belt that hung on one of the bedposts and strapped it on. They were going to have to kill her eventually so he might just as well get it over with.

  Deliberately he drew his gun and pointed it down at the unconscious woman as his eyes took in every curve of her body. How he longed to join with it and hear her panting in his ear as he took her. Grunting, he realized he should give it one more try and holstered his gun. Perhaps if he shoved her head in a bucket of water, that would finally be the maneuver that brought her around. If it didn’t then
he had to concede his blow to her head had done some sort of irreparable damage that he couldn’t fathom, and she was never going to wake up.

  He had heard of such states somewhere in his life … there was a fancy term for it, but he couldn’t recall, so he simply shrugged. It didn’t matter because if this failed, then it would be a lot less messy if he would just keep holding her head underwater in the bucket until she was dead. With the payment the brothers had received, he could get his pick of whores for weeks to come. Taking one last look at Signe, he strode out of his room to get the large bucket he had seen under a counter in the kitchen.

  Stepping out the front door of the cabin he halted for a moment, the bucket swinging in his hand. He loved the morning, the wet, earthy smell from the damp soil all around. Jed was a man used to being up all night fucking the ladies and this time of day was no stranger to him. To the east grayish colored clouds were taking on a pinkish hue from the coming sun. He took a final second to appreciate it and rounded the side of the house. Jed skirted around a large boulder that thrust its way out of the ground, too large for the original owners of the cabin to move he was sure. His focus was on his destination paying no attention to the decrepit wagon further beyond at the edge of the woods. There was no reason for him to notice anything other than the circular well he was making a beeline for; completely unaware his every action was under surveillance.

  ***

  When she had reached the area where the forest around the cabin ended Catalina was happy to discover the object she had seen earlier was an old dilapidated wagon. It had been there so long that its boards were a weathered gray and three of its wheels were broken. The fourth, probably the only one worth a damn, had been removed by someone at some unknown point in the past. Thankful for the cover it provided she crawled up behind it and momentarily propped her back up against one of the damaged wagon wheels and gazed back into the forest she had just crawled out of.

  Unseen beyond the trees, in a small clearing the bound and gagged Naughton brothers sat on their steeds. Armed with a Winchester 32, Bergendahl had been tasked to keep watch on the captives while Catalina and Johansen carried out their parts in the rescue. Catalina had been secretly glad when Johansen had insisted that he take the role that she had said would be necessary of one of the men if she could not get Jed to surrender peacefully.

  She didn’t trust the man to watch over the Naughtons. The slightest provocation and she suspected they all would be stopping lead from Johansen’s gun over the murder of his cousin’s family. She wouldn’t have blamed him, but she wanted them alive. Especially after what she had learned on their ride back toward Halmstad. She was looking forward to the moment that their ringleader saw them captured and the devious, sordid mess was exposed.

  Catalina opened the cylinder of her gun and did a final check to see that it was fully loaded. She knew it wasn’t necessary, but Cassie always insisted that a double check never cost you anything, so why not do it? For only a moment, she allowed her thoughts to turn to her sisters. She hoped they were having fun in Carson City. Whatever they were doing, she didn’t doubt it was a far cry from this business she found herself smack dab in the middle of. To think yesterday she had only set out to buy a wagon!

  She turned around and peered over the lip of the wagon. In the woods behind her, the sounds of birdcalls began to ring out here and there as the winged creatures prepared for another bright Arizona day. Gripping the edge of the wagon, she felt the rotted wood crumble in her hand. For the first time in hours, her lips found themselves forming a small smile. At least she didn't have to worry about destroying a third wagon. This one was had already been taken care of by time and the elements.

  Her eyes took in everything before her. The circular well with the wooden cross frame over it. The wooden bucket rocking gently in a morning breeze sweeping down from the valley wall. Beyond that lay a good-sized boulder, and then there was the side of the cabin. A light shone through the sole window in the side of the building. Ducking back down behind the wagon she began to root around in the soft dirt until she had a small hand full of rocks.

  Catalina planned to throw them on the roof, hoping the sudden noises would draw Jed Naughton out to investigate for an easy capture. Sure, simply firing a gun in the air would have brought him out, she had told Bergendahl when he had suggested it. However, he would one hundred percent for certain be coming out armed. He probably would anyway but, she reasoned, why not decrease the chances of it.

  As Catalina rose she could see the very first rays of the sun striking the top of the chimney that jabbed its way through the roof of the cabin. She was a good distance from the structure but her arms, while still feminine, were well toned with sculpted muscles. Throwing that distance would be no problem, so without further thought, she prepared to launch the first rock when suddenly she heard the sound of the door around the front swinging open, its rusty hinges in desperate need of a good oiling. In a heartbeat, Catalina dropped back down behind the wagon, with only her eyes and the top of her head peering out.

  Striding around the boulder and heading for the well was a bearded scruffy looking scoundrel if she ever saw one. In the light, he could see his face was an ugly one featuring a disjointed nose, broken no doubt in some past barroom brawl. The thought of this monster pawing at some poor young woman sickened her.

  Catalina watched as he set a large bucket that had been carried in one of his hands on the lip of the well and hand over hand he lowered the attached bucket down. As he worked, she was not pleased to see that his gun was strapped to his waist after all, but there was nothing to be done about it. A moment later he pulled the bucket up and dumped the contents into the larger bucket and began to repeat the process. She had no idea what he was up to but now was the time take the stage and set Signe Torvold free. Naughton pulled the bucket up but before dumping it he raised it to his mouth and took a swig. Catalina knew that if there ever was a time to show herself and demand his surrender it was now.

  Everything seemed to happen within the same millisecond. A bloodcurdling cry came from the woods behind her just as Catalina was jumping to her feet and drawing her gun. At the well, Jed's eyes flew to the woods searching for the source of the shrieking noise and they went as round as the full moon that still hung in the bluish sky at the sight of a woman behind the wagon pointing a gun on him.

  Catalina didn’t hesitate. Any plan she had for calling to him to surrender went out the window the second he had spotted her. These Naughtons were hardened killers who had murdered old men and children. He was going to go for that gun as sure as that rising sun would set in the western skies at the end of the day. The Colt bucked in her hand, its deadly cargo of lead flying directly at Jed Naughton, only to her astonishment wound up ricocheting off the metal band that encircled the bucket he had been drinking out of. The same bucket he had released just now to draw his own pistol with a speed that nearly rivaled her sister Cassie’s ability to draw.

  The bullet that he fired off hit the edge of the wagon bed close to where Catalina had ducked down. Wood splinters showered down onto the ground beside her, while a few landed in her hair. She popped up and fired back, but Jed was running from the well to the large boulder to take cover behind it.

  They traded gunfire until both had to stop and reload, and then they took up where they had left off. Jed would peek out around the boulder and squeeze off a shot, then Catalina would raise her head above the wagon bed and do the same thing. This exchange continued until both revolvers were empty again, forcing a short cease fire while they both reloaded yet again.

  While she was reloading, Catalina surveyed the clearing around the cabin and her surroundings. She wondered if there was someplace she could get to where she’d have a better chance of taking Jed down. But she couldn’t see any better place that she could get to without exposing herself to him.

  Just as she was taking aim again, movement at the edge of the cabin’s excuse for a yard caught her eye. It was the fox trotting
along with the hapless rabbit in its teeth. So that was the scream that alerted Jed to danger, she thought with some aggravation. Jed was distracted by the fox's presence, too, giving Catalina time to fire a round at him. The bullet just missed his forehead but took off his battered hat. Startled, he fired wildly, missing even the wagon.

  Meanwhile, when the gunplay first began, Johansen crept down from the other side of the barren hill that abutted the far side of the cabin until he reached the rear of the cabin. Earlier Catalina had advised him that at the first sound of gunfire to take that as a cue thing hadn't gone as planned and that would be his signal to use the distraction and try to get inside and rescue Signe. Fortunately, the cabin had a back door, and it was unlocked. He slipped inside and scanned the room. It was a combination living room and kitchen, as most cabins were. He spotted a doorway across the room that he hoped was the bedroom where he would find Signe.

  He swiftly crossed the room, pushed aside the ratty old blanket that served as a door, and gasped as he laid eyes on his Signe. She lay motionless on the filthy bed, a red burn mark showing on her bare shoulder and a lump on her left temple.

  “Signe!” he called softly, his voice catching in his throat.

  At the sound of a familiar voice, Signe’s eyes opened wide.

  “Ingemar!” she cried. “You have found me!”

  She struggled to sit up as he took the few steps to her side. He gently tugged on her dress and pulled it back up to her shoulders to cover her nakedness.

  “Take it easy now,” he said. “You’re safe now cousin. How badly are you hurt? Did that beast … did he …?”

  “He hit me on the head and knocked me out,” she told him. “When I came to again, I heard him telling someone else what he wanted to do to me when I regained consciousness, so I pretended to still be out. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Smart girl,” Johansen said, patting her gently on the back.