He drew a slow breath, feeling the heat and dust cling to his skin.
“Let him come,” he muttered under his breath. “Let him come and see what’s waiting.”
Chapter 29
The dust had barely settled when Blaze heard it. It was a ragged scrape of stone against stone behind the ridge. Instinct had him turn with his revolver raised, heart still hammering from the fight.
“Movement,” he hissed.
Graycloud swung his head toward the sound. Marisol glared in the same direction, looking unsure whether to point her rifle again.
“I thought we got them all,” she said.
A low groan drifted from behind a slab of rock. Blaze advanced carefully, boots crunching over spent shells and dust. When he rounded the boulder, he found a man sprawled there, clutching his side. Blood seeped through his fingers, pooling dark beneath him.
The last of the Riders looked up, his eyes wild.
“Don’t . . . don’t shoot,” he gasped. “Please.”
Blaze glanced over his shoulder. “He’s alive.”
As Marisol approached, she leveled her rifle. “Not for long, by the looks of it.”
The wounded man tried to crawl backward, but his strength gave out. He collapsed with a groan, dust puffing around him.
“Hold still,” Blaze said.
The wounded Rider groaned as Graycloud pushed him down against the rock. Blood had soaked through the man’s shirt, dark and sticky where the bullet had torn through his side. The bandit’s face was pale beneath the dirt and sweat, and his breath was ragged.
“Please,” the man muttered. “Don’t . . . don’t finish me off.”
“Talk first,” Blaze said.
Marisol crouched nearby, wiping her rifle clean. “He’s lucky we didn’t already.”
The Rider swallowed hard, eyes darting between them.
“Ain’t...ain’t nothin’ left to say,” he replied. “You already took the gold.”
“What are you talking about? We took nothin’,” Blaze said. “You and your kind came after us.”
Graycloud knelt beside him, voice flat. “Name.”
“Jake,” the man whispered.
“Jake who?”
“Just . . . Jake.”
Blaze’s revolver caught the sun as he spun the cylinder. “Jake’s fine. Let’s start with who sent you.”
The bandit flinched at the metallic click. “Wilder,” he said quickly. “Always Wilder. You know that. I...I ain’t with him, you know. He paid me and my boys a lot of money to come after you. A lot of groups are riding around, searching.”
Blaze exchanged a look with Marisol. She did not look pleased.
“Figured as much,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Why?” Blaze asked, crouching lower. “Why keep sending men after us?”
