All or Nothing (3 page)

Chapter 4

RuthAnne watched the silhouette of a man as he dragged a wooden strongbox and muttered a curse under his breath. Her heart pounded a fury. She instinctively stepped in front of Mara, as if her body could shield her sister from whatever evil lurked at the cave entrance. They were cornered.

She dared not take them farther into the cave; when he saw that the fire had been stoked, he would just search them out. Better to tell the truth and shame the devil, as her mother always said. RuthAnne said a quick, silent prayer for protection from whatever lay ahead.

“Hello! Is someone there?” she called out.

The figure stopped, his shadow long against the wall. He hesitated as she called out again.

“Thank heaven, Mara! Someone finally came to save us.” RuthAnne let her rich, southern Alabama accent flow forth. She imagined how her mother would have played heavily the part of a damsel in distress, back when she still had her mind. Such a dramatic display was foreign to RuthAnne’s nature. Mara’s jaw dropped, obviously confused. RuthAnne gestured for her to play along.

“Please, sir. Can you help us?” Mara gave a half smile and shrug as she joined the charade.

The shadow hesitated a moment, then reached behind and pulled something from his back pocket. He placed some sort of a hood over his head, almost ceremonially. The man stepped out of the darkness and into the flickering firelight.

RuthAnne’s breath hitched. Her blood went cold at the looming figure walking toward them. He wore a white sackcloth mask over his head. Rough-cut holes revealed his glittering black eyes. An angry slash of red marked where his mouth should have been. Such a disguise did more than conceal his identity; it was intended to breed fear into the hearts of all who saw him. And it worked. RuthAnne knew at that moment playing a southern belle in distress had been the wrong tactic.

He set the wooden crate down with a hefty chink as its heavy contents came to rest inside. A solid metal lock secured it closed. RuthAnne knew she had seen the same strongbox under the feet of their driver, Mr. Bingham. His brother’s delivery of silver ingots from their Leadville, Colorado test shaft was locked inside, bound for the bank in Tucson.

His voice echoed in her mind, how silver was the new gold! He had boasted about it quite proudly while stowing their trunks at the station. He’d reached up, patting the locker, as if to reassure himself it was still underneath the driver’s seat. But, there was something else. Something he’d said low, for her ears only; in case of bandits, there was a secret compartment with a shiny Smith and Wesson .38 revolver with a custom shortened barrel hidden on the underside. He had counted on a robbery, just not one as elaborate as this. Now, he was dead, with his precious cargo being gone over like pirate’s treasure. Righteous indignation for this travesty filled her chest. She must do something—but what?

“Well, now. What do we have here?” The bandit’s rich, gravelly voice held a hint of a Hispanic accent that sounded off somehow.
Could it be fake? Part of his disguise, somehow?
RuthAnne tried to focus on the ambiguity of it. Her heart hammered and blood rushed a waterfall in her ears.

“We’re lost, cold, and hungry, sir. Our stage went over the edge because of the rockslide...we only sought shelter from the rain.” RuthAnne cringed at the shrillness of her voice.

“Is that right? Amazing two little bits like you could survive such a tumble.”

His coarse, guttural laugh bounced off the rocky walls. “I watched you go over the side. You almost ended up at the bottom, didn’t you? You and your sister are very lucky. If I’d waited one minute later, you would have been buried under
all of those rocks
...”

“You did this? You spooked the horses. Caused the rockslide that almost killed us? Just so you could rob the stage?”

He held his hands out as he hunkered down on the other side of the fire ring. His mask eerily caught the firelight. “Rockslides happen all of the time,
señorita
. But, if one should occur when a stage loaded with silver happens to be driving through, the better for me.”

“You stole that from our stage...” RuthAnne gulped.

“Your driver had a big mouth and a false sense of security.” He gave the strongbox a good pat. “This will make me a very wealthy man.”

RuthAnne did her best not to shy away from the outlaw. Her thoughts swept to Mr. Bingham and the horses. “You’re nothing but a murderer.” She spat out the words, disgusted.

He moved to strike her, arm cocked, palm open and ready. RuthAnne cowered instinctively. After a moment’s hesitation, he lowered his arm and nodded, then he walked to his cache of stolen goods, as if taking inventory.

Anger grew in her breast as she watched him casually lean his double-barreled shotgun against the black hole at the back of the cave by his prize. So, he’d evaluated them and merely considered them helpless women warming themselves in his hideout? He had already underestimated them. Her resolve solidified along with a plan for escape.

Once she was sure her voice wouldn’t waiver, RuthAnne spoke. “You can let us go, you know. We haven’t seen your face. We’ve no idea who you are or where we are. Your secret is safe.”

RuthAnne rose to her feet, her head held high, a hand to Mara. But she didn’t make it one step toward the mouth of the cave. A pistol appeared out of nowhere and filled his hand in a flash. He aimed it solidly at her breast, and she stifled a shriek.

“Sit back down while I decide what to do with you.”

Slowly, with an appearance of calm, she lowered herself to the cave floor. The sisters clasped each other’s hands tightly. RuthAnne’s eyes never left his. Slowly, deliberately, he holstered his weapon.

He went back to unlocking the strongbox, his voice low and guttural. “I remember you two from the train, the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe out of Kansas City. You had already charmed the whole car by the time I slipped on. Don’t waste your time trying to place me. I have many disguises. Many names. By the time we got to the Colorado border, I was well aware of your...predicament. All of that cargo to care for. I overheard your enthusiastic driver begging you to go with him. He said it would be a benefit to him to have you along. No one would suspect a stage carrying a widow and her sister would also be carrying a fortune in silver. No one that is, except for me.”

“Please, you’ve got what you wanted,” Mara said, her voice quivering. “We’re hardly worth your trouble, mister. Ruthie and I don’t have anything worth stealing.”

RuthAnne knew better. Mara offered her plea out of innocence. She’d never had reason to fear.

He snorted a laugh and strode the length of the cave to where they sat. The bandit leaned forward to trail a menacing, well-manicured finger down Mara’s exposed throat. “I can think of a few things you have that I want. And I always get what I want.”

She shrank back, moaning in fear, finally understanding his intention. RuthAnne attempted to shield Mara with her body, but the bandit quickly shoved her aside and into the dirt.

“
Todo o nada,
ladies. I get all of you or I’ll leave you with
nothing
.” His words were thick as his cold black eyes slid over them.

RuthAnne crossed her arms protectively in front of her. He didn’t see their injuries. Their torn and dirty clothing. Or if he noticed, he didn’t care. She fought back the bile that filled her throat. Unlike Mara, RuthAnne knew the world to be full of scoundrels. They wouldn’t survive this.

RuthAnne closed her eyes and prayed for protection, but she knew the answer even before she finished.
The good Lord helps those who help themselves.
Words were not going to be enough to stop this outlaw. Her eyes found the shotgun, leaning by the opening into the tunnel beyond. There had to be a way to reach it. She had gotten them into this; now she was going to have to get them out. She needed to act, but how?

A small tumble of pebbles rained down from the opening above. She thought she heard a man’s voice. She opened her mouth to scream, but pain stifled her as the cold steel of the pistol pressed viciously under her jaw.

Her life hung in the balance as he whispered in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “Flinch and you
both
die.”

He moved with catlike grace; his eyes focused on the narrow fissure in the rocky ceiling. A world away, horses picked their way through the desert. RuthAnne could make out a hoof and long leg of a fine bay, a black boot in a silver stirrup, a call to those behind, and the laughter of camaraderie.

Her captor placed a finger to the slash of red across the mouth of his mask and crept toward the mine entrance. Muffled words dripped down like rain from above.

“Hey, Cap! Do you smell that smoke?”

“Lightning must’ve started a brush fire. Better get a move on before we run into it.” The boot solidly dug into horseflesh, urging the animal forward. With the utmost feeling of isolation, RuthAnne watched them proceed onward.

She could sense her kidnapper’s glee as they rode on. He glanced back to where she and Mara remained huddled by the fire. She caught the satisfaction glinting in his eyes, behind his disguise, before he slunk out of the shaft. Was he making sure the riders went on their way? Perhaps he intended to murder them. RuthAnne had no way of knowing or warning the men above without jeopardizing her sweet sister. She watched his shadow as it lengthened, rounded a corner to the entrance, and vanished. But he would be back. He wasn’t going to let them walk away now.

“Come on.” RuthAnne hurried to the shaft entrance, cast one nervous glance over her shoulder to prove the coast was clear, and firmly clasped the shotgun the bandit had forgotten about. She gauged the weight of it; scents of oil and gunpowder filled her nose. She checked and found it loaded.

Mara gulped. “Do you know how to use that thing?”

“Well enough. We’re getting out of here.” RuthAnne led Mara through the gash in the wall, deeper into the mine.

In no time, they were entombed—encased in the sheer darkness of the mineshaft. She felt her way along the rock wall and heard Mara struggling to keep up, but there would be no slowing down. Their footsteps echoed, and her blood pounded in her ears, a raging river with rapids of adrenaline.

Through cobwebs, spiderwebs, and worse they ran. She knew they only had a few moments before he realized they were gone. With any luck, he would search for them first under the tarps, wasting precious seconds so they could find somewhere to hide. It only delayed the inevitable. There would be no respite until he found them. She held the double-barrels out before her like a shield, her palm slick with sweat on the wooden stock.

The tunnel twisted and turned, taking sharp curves down as it traveled into the heart of the mountain. RuthAnne heard sounds from behind and knew they could only mean one thing. He followed. She would rather die lost and trapped below the surface of the earth than be accosted by such a monster. Perhaps she could get a shot off first. Do some damage? She wasn’t sure of her aim or her skill with a weapon, but she had it in her to try.

They increased their pace, arms outstretched as they went down the tunnel in an endless maze. The darkness pressed against RuthAnne, closing in along with the shrinking tunnel. The air had gotten so thin. So dusty and dry. If they did lose him, the possibility that they would suffocate and die somewhere in the bowels of this mountain increased with every step. But, after a moment, the air changed from stagnant to fresh. Was that rain? Could that be a breeze on her face?

“Ruthie! I see a light!” Mara whispered.

Before them, a tumble of boulders blocked the way. Weak daylight pointed the way out through a narrow gap in the dirt and stones above. If only they could scramble up, the two of them could make it through the slight opening. Not so sure about the large man who pursued them.
Might as well have a camel go through the eye of a needle.
RuthAnne nodded.

“Go!” she ordered, and Mara hastily scaled the loose rock. “Be mindful where you step! It’s a cave-in!”

One wrong move would send them into the arms of their attacker. One misstep could break an ankle or a leg, and they’d be done for. RuthAnne pushed while Mara pulled, and they made it up and out into the twilight air.

The storm had passed. A quick survey of their surroundings revealed they were on the downward grade of the mountain—the long, sloping terrace that led to the valley beyond. Creosote bushes filled the air with their piney scent, wet and drying in the rapidly warming desert air.

They were in the middle of a parade of ancient giant saguaro cactus that dotted the foothills to the desert floor and as far as the eye could see. Some stood impossibly tall, lone and straight; others reached out dramatically, arms twisted in every direction.

The moist evening air was a blessing on RuthAnne’s face. Scattered thunderheads were the only evidence of the torrential storm. The sun reappeared only to arc its final descent over another range of rugged mountains.

The desert sunset took her breath away. Bright orange, amethyst, and crimson clouds spanned the length of the sky. The crystal clear view spread to the west with rolling foothills and flat desert plains laid out as far as the eye could see. Water caught the light in a gilded ribbon that snaked its way through scrubby wooded wetlands. The setting sun became a blindingly bright slash of white behind the lavender mountains. The eastern sky darkened into twilight, quickly spreading its fingers of night. Unfortunately for them, they had no time to revel in the good Lord’s handiwork.

“Where are we?” Mara asked.

RuthAnne scanned the mountainside, regaining her bearings.

“We’re south of the road down the pass. Look there.” She pointed below the sloping plain where the dirt road snaked into view at the bottom of the mountain. “We’ll get back to that. Keep walking until it gets too dark to see, then we’ll find somewhere to wait until morning.”

“It looks like you can see forever from here.”

RuthAnne couldn’t disagree. She knew Tucson lay to the west, toward the fading light of day. That was the direction they would head. Stepping away from the cave, they began their descent. They picked their way around rocks and stands of cholla and saguaro cactus.