Safe in His Arms

THIRTY-TWO





Margaret’s head pounded and she nearly groaned. She gradually became aware that she was moving. Her eyes were heavy, so heavy. With a great effort, she managed to lift her lids, then shut them again when the pain in her head intensified. Hooves clattered against rocks, and she smelled horse.

When she finally managed to keep her eyes open, she realized she was tied to a horse. It was night, and the moon peeked over the hills. Her head drooped on Archie’s neck, and her hands were bound to the saddle horn. A man was behind her, his hard arms pressed against her from both sides. She struggled to push away from the horse’s neck and sit erect, but her head lolled on her shoulders. She was so very weak. She couldn’t jump off and run if she had the strength—which she didn’t—since she wouldn’t get far on her injured ankle.

Lewis spoke behind her. “I’d hoped you’d stay asleep.”

Everything came flooding back. Lewis had killed her father, and he intended to kill her so he could have the ranch. She felt paralyzed by her situation and by the laudanum still numbing her senses. What could she do to escape? Was there any way she could help Daniel track her? For she had no doubt he would find her gone and come after her.

Moaning, she leaned forward and tugged off the boot on her left foot.

“What are you doing?” Lewis growled in her ear.

“My ankle is pressing against my boot. I need to take it off. I think you put them on the wrong feet.” She yanked on her boot.

“You’re going to send us both toppling into the mud.” He reined in the horse and leaped to the ground, then he grabbed her leg and yanked her boot off.

She winced. “Can’t you be a little gentler?”

“I’m sorry to say it won’t matter much. You won’t be feeling anything in a few more hours.” He handed the boot to her and mounted the horse again.

His dark warning tightened her gut. “What are you going to do with me?”

“I like you, Margaret. It’s nothing personal, you understand. You’ve been good to me. There’s no other way, though. You have to die. I want to make it look like an accident that happened far from anywhere I might have been.”

Her mouth felt filled with cotton, and she licked her lips. “Why would I have gotten out of bed and gone for a ride?”

“Vincente found me injured, and you insisted on coming to assure yourself that I was really alive. Everyone knows how impulsive you are. And how much you loved your cousin Lewis.” His tone was almost gleeful. “No one will doubt our word since there are two of us. Vincente will say your horse bolted and you were thrown.”

Margaret knew it was all too plausible. “You don’t have to kill me. I’ll marry Daniel and move out of the area with him. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

His fists tightened on the reins in front of her. “I wish that were true. I don’t like what has to be done.”

They rode for several more minutes before Margaret was sure he wasn’t going to answer. The glow of the moon illuminated the path with dim light. The horses reached the beginning of the butte.

He reined in his horse. “We’ll have to be careful here. And I want to throw off anyone who might be following us.” He pointed to a cleft in the rocks. “I’m going there. Watch her, Vincente. I’ll be right back.”

Lewis shoved her from the saddle, and she tumbled to the ground, twisting her ankle again. She bit back a moan when she tried to stand. “Could you pour some water on my handkerchief? My ankle is throbbing and I want to wrap it.”

Vincente shrugged and pulled out his canteen. He upended it over the scrap of cloth in her hand. Margaret sat down and tended to her ankle but kept a surreptitious eye on her cousin. He took his horse back and forth through the cleft, then he dismounted and kicked some rocks out of the path. She realized they weren’t going through that spot at all. He was making a false trail to throw off Daniel. But she would foil him. At the right spot, she would drop her boot to mark which way they went.

She finished tying the handkerchief around her ankle and waited for Lewis to return. Her head was clearing, and she had control of her muscles again. If only she had a gun. When Vincente wasn’t watching, she glanced around to see if there was anything she could use as a weapon. The boulders were too large to lift, and the other stones were only pebbles. Nothing that would be useful. She couldn’t outrun them. Not with her injury and one foot bare. There had to be something she could do, but she was too exhausted to figure out what that might be.

Astride Archie, Lewis clattered back down the hillside. He wore a self-satisfied grin. “That should fix things.”

He held out his hand to help Margaret mount. As her hand met his, she had a flash of inspiration. She yanked hard on his hand and he fell onto the ground. His head struck a rock and he lay stunned. In a moment, she flung herself atop Archie.

“Yah!” she screamed and slapped the horse’s rump. Her boot slipped from her hand.

Archie leaped forward, nearly running into Vincente’s horse. Vincente made a grab for her, but she fended off his attack and raced up the butte, through the cleft. It was the only way open to her. Lewis shouted after her, but she couldn’t make out the words.

On the other side of the rock formation, the trail twisted around a boulder and continued to climb. She reached the top of the butte and looked down into the canyon. It was dark and mysterious at night, but this place was familiar to her. Many times she and her father had rounded up strays in this canyon. There were plenty of caves where she could hide. She had a chance.

She urged her horse down the path to the canyon. Something whizzed by her head, and she threw herself against Archie’s neck, then dared a glance behind. She’d be out of rifle range in a few more feet. It would be darker in the canyon too. The horse stumbled, then continued to the bottom of the hillside. She rode hard for the far side where she knew of a hiding place. Glancing back, she saw movement on the slope.

They were coming.




THE BUTTE LOOMED above him. Daniel dismounted and studied the ground. Lots of mud trampled here. And he grabbed up the boot on the ground. He was sure it was Margaret’s. His initial elation plummeted. Had they already killed her and were disposing of her body? Please, God, no. And who had her? Daniel wasn’t sure who had taken her, but he suspected Calvin might have something to do with her disappearance.

He followed the trail up through the cleft. This was unfamiliar territory. He’d never been on this side of the river. Darkness blanketed the canyon below him. There was no movement that he could discern. A coyote yipped in the distance and the chorus was joined by several more. The lonely sound added to his feeling of being watched. Nothing moved except a few locks of his hair stirred by the breeze.

He dismounted and studied the ground. They’d been through this way. Their tracks went down the path into the canyon. Once he was back in the saddle, he urged his horse down the narrow path past prickly pear and cholla cactus. Time had ceased to have any meaning. He had no idea how long it would be before dawn. When he reached the bottom of the trail, he paused and listened. He didn’t dare call out in case they were nearby and his voice would tip them to his presence.

The ground was rocky here so no help for tracking them. Which way had they gone? He stared into the inky blackness, praying for a clue. The canyon was vast. He could wander here for days and not find them. Something moved off to his left, and he tensed, barely biting back an exclamation. Sage crunched underfoot. Someone was moving. He stilled the horse and waited, straining to see in the dark.

There was a rush of movement, then a hand yanked him from the horse. As he hit the ground, the rocks bit into his cheek and arm. A boot pressed his head into the ground.

“I thought you’d come looking for her.”

Was that Lewis’s voice? Daniel whirled and faced two men. Both held guns that were pointing at him. Vincente was beside Lewis.

“You’ll be the perfect bait to draw out Margaret,” Lewis said.

“You faked your death.” It made perfect sense. No one would suspect Lewis of harming Margaret. “You’re not the man I thought you were.” But Vincente’s involvement seemed out of character with what Daniel knew about the man.

Lewis’s boots clattered among the stones as he drew nearer. The gun barrel never wavered. “Call for Margaret. Tell her to throw up the sponge.”

“I will not. You’re the ones who tried to shoot us, aren’t you?”

“Of course we are. You’re smart enough to know the plan without any explanations. Margaret will come running to save you.”

Daniel knew Margaret would take no thought of her safety. The moment she heard his voice, she would give herself up. “Go ahead and shoot me. I’m not going to fall in with your plan.” Daniel’s hand inched to the revolver in his holster.

Before he could slap his hand on the butt and draw, Lewis poked the barrel of his weapon in Daniel’s chest. “Don’t move again.” He reached over and yanked the revolver out, then tossed it away.

The glint of metal disappeared in the darkness, but Daniel mentally marked the clatter of where it fell about ten feet away by the boulder. His rifle was on his saddle. He had to watch for an opportunity to get one of them.

Lewis gestured to the right. “This way. She’s in this canyon somewhere. If you don’t call for her, I’ll shoot you in the leg.”

Daniel stayed where he was. “No.”

“I don’t want to rough you up, but if you force me to, we’ll drag you behind the horse.”

“You can’t scare me, Lewis. If you kill me, I’m going to heaven. Do whatever you want. I’m not going to help you.”

Lewis stepped behind him and shoved him forward. “Move.”

Daniel walked slowly, not wanting to get far from the weapons. He might be able to wrest the gun away from Lewis, but he would still have Vincente to deal with. “What’s your mom going to say about your involvement in this, Vincente?”

“Shut up,” Lewis said.

“What did you promise him, Lewis? Money? If I were Vincente, I wouldn’t trust you to follow through. If you’d kill your own uncle and cousin, what would prevent you from killing him? So you shoot us, then kill Vincente, and no one is the wiser. You keep it all then, Lewis. Smart.”

The heavy blow from the gun’s butt came out of nowhere. Pain shot through Daniel’s skull, and he crumpled to his knees. His vision swam and he blinked to clear it. Now was his chance. He slumped as if he’d been knocked out.

Lewis swore. “I didn’t hit him that hard. Drag him, Vincente.”

Vincente didn’t move. “He was making some sense, Lewis. Don’t double-cross me. I have made arrangements that if I don’t come back, a letter will be delivered to the sheriff.”

“I have no intention of killing you, but if you keep talking like that, you might change my mind. Now drag him into the middle there.”

Daniel didn’t move as Vincente knelt over him. Daniel saw the glint of the gun in his holster. He grabbed Vincente around the neck and held him tight, then grabbed the butt of the gun and jerked it free. In one fluid movement, he shoved the man away and sprang to his feet with the gun pointed at Lewis.

“Drop the gun,” he barked.

Lewis reacted by firing his weapon. The bullet slammed into the fleshy part of Daniel’s thigh. Fiery pain radiated into his groin and down to his knee, but he gritted his teeth and dove toward the boulder where Lewis had thrown Daniel’s revolver. Another bullet sparked off the rock and missed his head by inches. Daniel fired back, but his shots went wild since he was still moving toward safety.

He heard Lewis moving toward him. Peering over the top of the boulder, Daniel saw the man creeping toward the boulder. Vincente was circling around the other way with a rifle in hand. Daniel glanced behind him. He was trapped.