She started to turn for her mare. Should she call for Rosie and White Horse? Who knew where they were at this point. There might be Purcey’s other lackey or the Indian woman around too. She didn’t want to alert them to her presence until she had to.
But the chance to save Tanner and Curly was slipping away. They’d already ridden half the distance a rifle shot would carry. She’d only have time to fire once. Was there a way to use one bullet to save both Tanner and the calf?
No. Several strides separated the two kidnappers. She would have to choose whether to save Tanner or Curly.
It was no choice. She would save Tanner if it took her last breath.
She raised the rifle and focused down the barrel. Should she aim for the big man or his horse? Shooting the animal might stop him for a minute, but he could easily cut Tanner’s horse free, then climb aboard and ride away while she reloaded.
Or worse yet, he could turn his gun on Tanner.
She inhaled a calming breath. She had to stop the man. And now. Before he moved out of range.
She steadied her hands and focused her aim, pulled back the rear set trigger, then breathed a prayer.Lord, save Tanner.
She fingered the front trigger, sighted once more ... and fired.
Tanner worked the rope against the exposed wood of the saddle, back and forth. He might be cutting only one fiber with every scrape, but this was the only way he would get loose.
After he freed his hands, he’d have to figure out how to cut the bonds at his feet. Purcey had tied them underneath the horse’s belly. Heaven forbid the horse tear off in a bucking spree. That would likely be the end of Tanner.
But perhaps that would be a swifter way to die than whatever Purcey planned. In the man’s fury when Tanner found the group holed away in a ravine with the calf and rifles, Purcey had nearly choked him to death as they wrestled. His greater brawn had gained the upper hand, especially when Anderson and Quigley stepped in with their rifles.
Rifles they’d stolen from Tanner’s store.
He’d spent much of the night awake and working at his bonds, but the smooth surface of the tree he was tied to hadn’t broken through the rope much.
The saddle felt like it was making better progress, though still so slow. How far would Purcey take—
An explosion ripped through the air. Tanner ducked low.
One of the other men screamed, and Purcey leaned sideways in his saddle. No, not leaning. The man toppled headfirst down the side of his mount, landing facedown on the ground with a thud.
Tanner’s pulse pounded in his chest as he jerked his head to see where the shot had come from.
Had White Horse found their tracks and followed him here? That had felt impossible with all the other prints marring the ground leading away from the trading post, but perhaps he’d underestimated the brave’s skills.
Or maybe Quigley had turned on his boss and shot him in the back while he had a chance. Neither he nor Anderson seemed to like their leader, even though they fought for him and followed his orders readily. There must be quite a stake in it for them.
For half a heartbeat, the figure standing at the edge of the trees looked like a woman in a burgundy dress. A woman who looked so much like Lorelei, he couldn’t breathe.
But then she disappeared. The vision must have been his eyes seeing what his heart wanted.
The horse beneath him jerked forward, spinning Tanner’s focus back to his mount. The mare he was tethered to had no rider, and Purcey lay moaning on the ground.
Anderson looked over at them, his eyes almost wild as he stared from his boss to Tanner, then down to the twohorses who could take off running at any minute. If they did, Tanner would have no way of stopping them. Anderson would probably grab up Purcey’s reins, and Tanner would still be under their control.
The skinny man looked behind him, to the woods they’d camped beside last night. Curly let out a tiny pitiful bleat through the rope they’d tied around his muzzle to keep him quiet.
The sound seemed to make a decision for Anderson, for he sent a final determined look toward Purcey, then plunged his heels into his horse’s side. The mount leapt forward, and the fact that the calf didn’t fly off its back with the sudden motion showed just how well they’d tied him on.
Anderson kicked the horse into a canter down the slope, and realization finally swept through Tanner’s exhausted mind. He was leaving with Curly. After all this work to find the calf, the animal was being carried off again.
Panic welled in his throat, and he turned back to see if the person who’d shot Purcey had showed himself yet. If it was White Horse, he would’ve come by now.
No movement showed near the trees.
Wait. Was that—?
