Quincy’s head felt all mixed up. The last week hadn’t gone as planned at all. The raid was somewhat of a success, but from the moment the kid took his horse, everything had gone wrong. He was frustrated, not only because of what was stolen from him but also because of the men he had lost.
There was a chance that they were still alive and would return, but his gut told him that something horrible had happened to them, and his gut was hardly ever wrong. Quincy tried not to worry about the men he had lost as his eyes roamed the open expanse in front of him. Sure, he treated his men well,but they were expendable. There were always more where they came from. The problem with recruiting new members was that oftentimes they didn’t live up to Quincy’s expectations, and he wasn’t a very patient man.
“Over there!” Brian called. “Looks like horse tracks.”
Quincy looked to where Brian was pointing and smiled. There weren’t many travelers so close to the desert, which meant the tracks likely belonged to another gang. Their main priority was finding the women, but killing some bandits and taking whatever valuables they had with them didn’t sound like a bad idea. Quincy needed to get his frustration out, and a shootout would help with that.
“Let’s follow them and see where they lead,” he instructed as he took off.
Brian and the rest of his men followed after him. Quincy was a great tracker, but even if he hadn’t been, finding the bandits wouldn’t have been difficult. The tracks were fresh and clearly visible in the dry sand. As long as there wasn’t a windstorm, their path was laid out for them.
Finding the gang didn’t take long, and to Quincy’s delight, Isabelle and Sarah came into view, too. Some of the men were on horseback, while a couple had dismounted and were pushing the two women around between them. Anger flooded Quincy’s body, and without so much as a word, he drew his weapon and attacked. The women belonged to him, and he decided who got to touch them.
Chapter 13
Too much time had passed, and Rider was starting to lose hope. The search had been called off days ago, and the townsfolk had gone back to their daily lives. Whenever they saw him, their expressions changed. They all felt bad for him but had given up and thought he should, too. That wasn’t an option for him.
They kept asking him if he was all right, which was a stupid question, considering the circumstances. Rider wasn’t sure whether he would ever be okay again. They kept offering help, but not the kind he wanted or needed. They wanted to help with the ranch or make him food. Some offered him jobs, and Mr. Gibbs asked him to think about selling the ranch to him. It was all too much, and he had no idea what to do.
Over the last couple of days, Rider had moved his search from within the perimeters of the town to the areas surrounding it. He had only left town a couple of times before, and those trips were all planned and with his father. With no idea where to look, Rider had simply started at the edge of town, next to the main road, and worked his way east. There were open prairies, woodlands, mountain ranges, rivers, and caves, but no matterhow hard he looked or how long he searched, there was no sign of his mother or sister.
Rider leaned back against the boulder for support. His legs felt weak under him. He slid down until his backside hit the ground and then leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. He sucked in deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. He had been busy searching since before sunrise, but still, he found nothing. The mountain, with all its little caverns, was the perfect place to hide or to leave a dead body, but there was nothing.
He wasn’t actually sure what he was expecting to find. He wasn’t dumb or delusional and knew that his mother and sister were probably dead. Bandits didn’t just abduct women and then drop them off in the next town or next to the road, unharmed and alive. Knowing this didn’t make him any less determined to find them. There was a little, unrealistic piece of him that was holding on to the idea that they might still be alive out there somewhere, and as long as he didn’t find their dead bodies, he couldn’t let go of that sliver of hope.
People seemed to think that he should simply move on, but that wasn’t an option. How could he just pretend that things were okay? He couldn’t. No, he had to find them or their bodies; then, and only then, would he consider what his own future looked like.
Standing up on shaky legs, Rider walked over to his horse and mounted the animal. The light cream Morgan was reliable and had served as Rider’s horse for the last two years. Butter, who had earned his name because of his color, was a good horse,but he didn’t have the power or endurance of the horse that Rider had stolen from the outlaws. Rider hadn’t named his new horse and honestly wasn’t sure whether he wanted to keep the animal.
His father had taught Rider all he knew about horses, which was a lot, and he knew for a fact that his newly acquired horse was a Mustang. The horse must have been taken from the wild and tamed. Rider wondered who had tamed the animal and what their reasoning was behind it, not that it mattered. He had been using the horse to search for his mother and sister, but the animal needed some rest, so today, he had taken Butter instead.
Feeling frustrated, Rider steered his horse back to town. There was too much land to cover, and if he was honest, he had no idea what he was doing. He desperately needed help. With that in mind, he rode past his family’s ranch and straight to Sheriff Stewart. The sheriff was a good man, and Rider wasn’t sure who else he could go to for advice.
As he rode through town, people waved and stared. He knew that after a while, they would stop treating him differently than before. It was just because everything that had happened was still so fresh in their minds. The last time there was a raid in town was more than a year ago, and although the whole family had been murdered, most people had simply carried on with their normal business. Rider knew it wasn’t because they didn’t care but because there wasn’t much they could do about it.
Rider stopped in front of the sheriff’s office and dismounted Butter. He tied his horse to the hitching post, took a deep breathto calm his nerves, and headed inside. Sheriff Stewart was leaning back in a rocking chair with a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Rider!” he exclaimed, standing up. “I was hoping you’d stop by today.”
“Sheriff Stewart,” Rider greeted in reply as he approached the man.
Sheriff Stewart finished his coffee and placed his cup on the front desk. “How are you holding up?”
Rider shook his head. “Honestly, not well.”
“I know things have been difficult,” Sheriff Stewart stated as he ran a hand through his hair. “But it’ll get better.”
“How?” Rider’s whole body was aching from not resting properly for days on end, so he sat down in one of the chairs. “Please tell me how things are going to get better.”
“It’s not going to be easy, but the first thing you need to do is accept that there’s nothing you can do.” Sheriff Stewart sat down in the rocking chair again. “What happened was horrible, and those memories will be with you forever, but you have to look forward. You have to work on letting go of the life you had and instead start to create a new life for yourself.”
The sheriff’s words made sense. The man was probably right, but still, the idea of simply moving on didn’t feel right toRider. “I can’t. At least not until I know whether they are alive or dead.”
“Rider...” Sheriff Stewart trailed off. For a long moment, there was nothing but silence as the truth of the matter lingered between them. “The odds of them being alive are slim.”
“I know, but we haven’t found their bodies, so there’s still a chance.”
“Look, I’m just gonna tell you like it is. Nobody knows what happened to your mother and your sister. I guess there is a small chance that Quincy and his men haven’t killed them yet, but it’s more likely that their bodies are at the bottom of a lake or in a field miles and miles away.”
