She thought of the letter she’d found, the sincerity of her father’s denial of any involvement in framing Rafe.And she knew she couldn’t go back to his home.
The ride on Clint’s horse several days earlier hadn’t taken more than a few hours.It had all been descent, just as getting there had been nearly all climbing.
It was midday now.She had seven, eight hours left of daylight.
Why did she think she could find him if no one else could?
Because during her captivity she had studied every peak, every hill, had drawn the landscape from so many different angles.She had only to find the right juncture, the right angles.
Remember how you got lost that first day.But then she had been inexperienced, distraught, afraid of Rafe Tyler but even more afraid of herself.
And there were miners in the hills.It shouldn’t be hard to find one, to locate Ben, if she had no luck in finding the trail up to Rafe’s valley.But she had no supplies, only a box of matches she’d stuck in a dress pocket after lighting the stove this morning.
Eight hours until sundown.
Go back!The practical part of her kept ordering her to do the safe thing.
Rafe!The need to reach out to him was stronger.Stronger even than the instinct for self-preservation.Stronger than her instinct to protect her newfound father.She kept seeing the concern on Rafe’s face as he’d held the small bear, as he’d watched the mother and cub play at the pool, the stunned wonder when they’d made love.Those fleeting moments that revealed everything he tried so hard to disguise, to deny.
She started walking toward the mountain, the horse trailing wearily behind.
Sam McClary slowed his horse to a trot.He knew he’d been damned lucky to avoid the posse.The miner’s taking aim on the man above him had been pure good fortune, giving McClary a chance to escape when the posse showed up.
He wondered who that man above him was.He hadn’t been able to see the face, but something in his bones told him it was Rafe Tyler.
He didn’t hang around to see what happened, but somehow he had to find out.Everyone in Rushton knew his face, but Casey Springs might be safe; he hadn’t stopped there on his way to the Circle R weeks ago.
He could get some supplies there, too, and decide whether to go on to Denver or Mexico.Too bad about Randall.He had always been good for a stake.But he’d picked the wrong time to suddenly find a conscience.
McClary rested his horse for an hour as he ate some jerky he’d found in the cabin of one of the miners he’d killed.Their gold dust was in his saddlebags.Enough for a good meal and fresh supplies in Casey Springs with some left over.
He wanted some distance between him and that posse before he headed east.He rested, stifling his impatience.He would stay until dark and enter Casey Springs in the early morning hours.
Jack Randall nearly fell from his horse several times before reaching the Dewayne ranch.Unable to saddle a horse with only one good arm, he had ridden bareback.
He had barely managed to get a bit in the horse’s mouth and had to mount from a stump.Though his head had stopped throbbing, his shoulder felt as if someone had stabbed a hot spear through it.
But he had to get help.He had tried to follow Shea, but she seemed to have disappeared completely, and so he had set off for Dewayne’s place.Damn Tyler and his robberies.Because of Tyler, he was alone.Believing that McClary was long gone, he had sent Nate and the other remaining hands off to check on cattle.He had even sent Clint out on the range to keep any more stock from wandering into the hills.Every last head of cattle was so damn important now.
He had to save the ranch for Shea.
Summoning every bit of strength he had, he kicked the horse into a canter.The ten miles seemed like a million, but the ranch finally came into view.Several horses were tied to the hitching post inside, with men milling at the front door.
They turned almost in unison toward him, two running over to him to grab the horse.He leaned over.“My daughter … her horse bolted with her.”
One man nodded.“A number of us just got back.We caught someone shooting at Charlie Sams up on Rushton Creek.Russ is taking him into Casey Springs.”
Jack tried to straighten.“Who?”
“Said his name was Tyler.Had a brand on his hand.Has to be the one responsible for the robberies around here … could be the one who shot you.”
Randall closed his eyes for a moment.It didn’t make sense.Tyler?Shooting at miners?Blamed for shootinghim?But it had been McClary …
Had McClary stayed?Had he somehow managed to frame Tyler again?
Jack couldn’t think about it now.The most important thing was Shea.
Men were already saddling fresh horses.Michael Dewayne came over.“Which direction?”
