Moon Racer (26 page)

"You said you already arrested them."

"Those men were nothing more than saddle
bums. I want the man, or men, who gave you the
information on when our shipments would be
leaving Diablo."

Williamson shook his head. "I'd rather be locked
up for the rest of my life than be dead."

1 Jonah moved forward and got in the Indian agent's
face. "I'm going to throw out some names to you, and
you tell me if I am looking in the right direction."

"I ain't saying nothing more."

"Edmund Montgomery?"

Williamson flinched. "I don't know him."

"Yes, you do. He was with you when you tried to
buy the Taylor ranch not too long ago. I have
witnesses to that fact."

"He's just a friend of mine. He was going to loan
me the money to buy the place, and that's all I'm
saying."

"If you won't tell me about Montgomery, tell me
the name of his man who rustles horses from the
Half-Moon Ranch."

"I ain't saying nothing more. I don't care what you
do to me; it wouldn't be as bad as..." He shook his head, his color turning grayish. "I ain't saying
nothing more."

"He's all yours, Grant. Thank you for your help."

"Don't mention it. I'm always ready to lend the
army a hand." He grinned. "We're all better off
now that this one is headed for prison."

Jonah started to leave, and then he halted in midstride. "Williamson isn't the head man."

"No," Grant agreed. "He's not smart enough for
that."

Abby pointed along the tree line. "That will be the
Taylor place just ahead. I don't know Mr. Taylor
very well, but my brothers have told me he is a
decent man." She made certain not to mention the
fact that she had been correct about the direction,
and the general wrong.

As they rode up to the ranch house, the place was
astir with a beehive of activity. Some men were
carrying lumber into the house, probably doing
repairs. The barn was getting a new coat of paint,
and there were even men landscaping the yard.

When Abby dismounted, Lester Taylor came out
of the barn to greet them. "Why, it's Abby Hunter,
isn't it?"

"Yes, sir. And this," she said, indicating Jonah's
father, "is General Tremain."

Lester's eyes twinkled with friendliness. "Well,
now, this is a real pleasure. I'm happy to meet
Jonah's pa."

Tremain was looking about him, clearly
impressed by what he saw. "My son bought this
place from you?"

"He surely did, and became a friend to me for
life. He saved me from sure ruin."

Abby was looking around as well. She didn't
know how to interpret the feelings that rocked her.
"There seems to be a lot of repair going on, Mr.
Taylor."

"The major wanted everything done to fix the
place up. I have to tell you, General, your son is the
finest man I've ever known."

Abby realized that the two men needed to talk,
and she didn't want to see the inside of the house.
This was the place Jonah would bring Patricia after
they were married.

She excused herself. "General, I'll be waiting for
you at the river crossing when you're ready to
return. If we are going to make it home before dark,
we need to leave within the next two hours."

He was so deep in conversation with Lester, he
merely nodded at her.

Abby sat on the bank of the river watching the clear
water of the Guadalupe rush by. She had tried not to
think of Jonah, but it was impossible to forget him.

She looked around at the beauty of the place. This
was good land-Jonah would make a go of it, be cause he was not a man to settle for anything less
than success.

She had changed drastically since he had come
into her life, and she would never again be the girl
she had been before she met him.

She plucked at her trousers and frowned. She still
had the money Matt had recently sent her, and it
was a substantial amount. She had tried to give it to
Brent to pay some of their father's debts, but he had
insisted that she spend the money on herself.

That was just what she was going to do.

She heard a rider approach, and she slid off the
rock, watching General Tremain dismount. He was
smiling as he came toward her.

"I tell you, Abigail, I'm seeing my son clearly for
the first time. He has done his old father proud,
although I hadn't noticed his worth until others told
me about him." He rested his back against a huge
boulder and spread his hand on the warmth of it.

"What do you think of my son, Abigail?"

"I think you should have seen the kind of man he
was without someone else having to convince you."

"Dammit, gal, you do have a sharp tongue!

"So I have been told."

He looked at the sky and gauged the hour. "Why
do you suppose Patricia didn't come with us? She's
been acting strange lately. It might be that she is just
homesick."

She was about to answer when she glanced down at
his hand resting against the rock. There had been no
warning rattle from the large diamondback rattlesnake
that was coiled at his fingertips. The reptile was actually smelling the general's hand with its
forked tongue!

"General, if you trust me, do not move a
muscle-stay exactly as you are. Don't move!"

He froze.-Something-in her tone told him she
meant just what she'd said. He watched her race to
her horse, grab her rifle out of the holster, and cock
it. He took a deep gulp when she seemed to be
aiming at him.

"Trust me, General. Do not move your hand!"

He slowly glanced down, and when he saw the
rattler every instinct in him screamed for him to run.
But he trusted Abby, so he froze in place. He
watched as the forked tongue touched his hand and
retracted several times.

He glanced back at her as she aimed the rifle and
fired. He whitened when he saw the impact of the
bullet jerk the snake upward and slam it to the
ground. His legs went weak, and he crumpled to his
knees.

"You were marvelous," Abby said, going down
beside him and holding her canteen to his lips.
"You looked death in the face and didn't blink.
I don't know many men who could have done
that."

He smiled weakly. "I don't want to ever do it
again."

"Take small sips of the water."

"I'd rather have a shot of whiskey at the
moment." He raised the canteen to his lips. "Damn,
Abigail! That scared the hell out of me!"

She helped him stand. "Are you all right?"

"I think so." He saw the concern on her face and
managed to smile. "Lucky for me you're the best
damned shot I ever saw."

A smile curved her lips, and a teasing light came
into her eyes. "I was lucky this time. I usually miss."

When they reached the house, it was long after
dark. Frances had left food warming on the back of
the stove, and the general and Abby sat down to eat.
Over the day they had formed a bond and now felt
easy in each other's company.

Patricia heard the laughter coming from the kitchen,
and she went to investigate. Abby was pointing her
finger at the general, and he was smiling.

"It's lucky for me that you trusted me when I told
you not to move. I didn't relish the thought of cutting
into your hand and sucking the poison out of you."

"And I wasn't sure you weren't going to miss
that damned snake and hit me!"

She wiggled her nose. "You're just lucky I like
you, or I might have missed on purpose."

He laughed and motioned for a confused Patricia
to join them.

"What happened today?" Patricia asked
curiously.

"Abigail saved my life. She shot a snake not half
an inch from my hand."

Patricia paled. "I would have fainted dead away."

The general looked from one woman to the other,
comparing them. They were both beautiful, Patricia in a
refined way-Abby, mysterious, almost exotic with
her catgreen eyes. Patricia would be an ornament for
her husband; she would never cause him a moment's concern. She would be adored and
paraded for all to see. His gaze went back to Abby.
She would be a companion to her husband;
someone to stand as his equal, to walk beside him
to face whatever life threw her way. Both women
would make admirable wives, but some men would
soon tire of Patricia's sweetness. Abby would plant
her scuffed boots and dig in if she thought she was
right about something. Yet she was fragile and
delicate-very definitely a woman.

A man would never tire of Abigail Hunter's
exuberance for life.

"I was just thinking what a wonderful wife you
would make for some lucky man, Abigail."

Abby arched an eyebrow. "Are you proposing?"

"If I were younger, you would be the woman for
me. But I'm almost certain I couldn't handle you at
my age. I probably couldn't even have handled you
when I was younger."

"Did you just pay me a compliment?"

He grinned. "Yes. Yes, I did."

They both burst out laughing while Patricia
looked on, aghast.

Abby wandered through the general store, looking
at different fabrics. She disregarded the pinks and
other pastel colors and finally settled on a bolt of
deep maroon broadcloth, a green-striped lawn, and
a deep blue serge. She was still undecided about the
deep green silk taffeta, but she quickly added it to
her purchases before she changed her mind. After some agonizing, she chose three leather split skirts,
a brown, a black, and a light tan one.

With her arms loaded she walked the short
distance to the Herbert house, where the local
seamstress lived.

Her knock was answered immediately by Mary
Herbert. "Abby Hunter," the sweet-faced woman
said, smiling, "please come in."

Abby struggled with her packages until Mary took
them from her and placed them on an empty chair.

"Mrs. Herbert, will you help me pick out
patterns, and make several gowns for me?"

The woman smiled warmly. "Abby, after what
you did for my Rob, I will make you the most
beautiful gowns this town has ever seen."

"How is Rob?"

"He's feeling good about himself. He always tells
me he can't turn into a bully like Johnny Brisco or
his friend Miss Abby won't like it."

Abby was suffering from conflict as she gathered
all her trousers and carried them out of her room.
She now wore one of the split skirts and found it
surprisingly comfortable.

She walked out of the house to the back of the
barn, where she deposited the trousers in the barrel
where trash was burned.

Navidad appeared at her side, looking amazed at
the way she was dressed. "What is it you are going
to do, Senorita Abby?"

"Burning the past. Light the fire before I change
my mind, Christmas."

He nodded. "It will be as you say."

He watched her walk back to the house, thinking
there was something very different about her. And
what did she mean, she was burning the past?

He shook his head. With Senorita Abby there
was always mystery.

Jack had returned home in the early afternoon.
Again, Abby was glad to see that he was sober, and
she was genuinely happy to see him.

As they sat around the table eating supper, no one
commented on Abby's changed appearance until
Frances came into the room.

"I see you finally took my advice," the
housekeeper said, pushing a plate of chicken and
dumplings in front of Abby.

"Yes. It was time."

Patricia touched Abby's hand. "I would like to
have a skirt like yours."

Abby took a bite of dumpling before she
answered. "That's easy. We just have to ride to
town. They have it in three different colors at the
general store."

"If the two of you are finished talking about
fripperies, I would like to tell you about the letter I
got from my son today," the general announced.
"He says the other officers' wives at the fort want to
give you a grand party, Patricia." His gaze moved to
Abby. "He asked that you come as well as a
companion to Patricia."

"f got a letter from him too, saying much the same
thing," Patricia said. "Abby, you must come with me. I would be terrified of so many strangers."

"Of course she'll go," the general blustered.

Jack saw the torment in his daughter's eyes
before she lowered her head. "You will go, won't
you, Abby?"

"I would rather not."

"You should go, Abby," her father pressed.

"Please say you will," Patricia pleaded.

She didn't want to go, and yet she was afraid of
never seeing Jonah again. The fact that he would
even want to see her after what she had said to him
was a wonder.

"If you would like me to, I will," she said finally,
knowing she was making a mistake. But she
couldn't help it. This would be her last time to see
Jonah.