The Cactus Creek Challenge (37 page)

B
en pointed his horse along the narrow trail that meandered down the ever-rising walls of the canyon, grateful for the moon coating every surface in silver. At least he didn’t have to worry about losing the trail. There was nowhere to turn off, nowhere to hide, and only one direction to go. He only had to worry about his horse stepping out into nothing, missing his footing, and sending them plunging down the rock face.

He leaned back in the saddle to help balance his weight, keeping a tight grip on the reins. Maybe they should’ve gone down on foot, leading the horses? But would that be any safer if one of the animals stumbled and knocked them off the ledge? This ancient trail had been carved out over the ages by deer, antelope, buffalo, Indians, and outlaws.

His horse stumbled, and Ben’s heart shot into his throat. Recovering quickly, the animal stopped, gathered himself, and continued on. Ben patted his neck, his entire body tensed like a brand-new barbed-wire fence.

Carl followed, and when the trail finally widened and emerged on the level ground, he heaved a sigh that carried to Ben. “I’m not a fan of heights under the best of circumstances. Dropping down into the Palo Duro in the dark is
not
the best of circumstances.” He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and resettled his hat.

“I was of two minds on whether to try it at all in the dark.” Ben used his kerchief to wipe the sweatband of his hat and try to relax the knot between his shoulder blades. He wouldn’t be a bit surprised to wake up tomorrow morning to find his hair had turned snow white after that descent.

“We can’t afford to wait. It was worth the risk, and anyway I’d have gone without you if you’d decided to wait.” Carl dismounted and loosened his cinch, holding the saddle and blanket up a few inches to allow some air to circulate. Ben swung down and did the same, chastising his legs for being so wobbly.

When they’d rested the horses, they cinched up again. “How ’bout we walk for a bit?” Ben asked.

“Fine.”

They set out, leading their mounts. Every so often, when he found a good place where the flame wouldn’t be seen too far off, Ben would kneel behind a rock or clump of mesquite, strike a match, and scout for tracks.

Ivan Shoop had definitely followed the game trail, which led in a winding path to the closest water, the Prairie Dog Town Fork of the Red River. As Ben and Carl reached the water’s edge, they let the horses drink, squatting themselves on the upriver side to fill their canteens and drink deeply.

Studying the riverbank, mindful of how sound carried on water, Ben whispered, “He stopped here for a bit, then turned south.”

“Think he’ll ride all night?”

“Guess we’ll see.”

Ben had barely swung back up into the saddle, his back and rear end protesting after the tense hours of riding, before he dropped back to the ground, startling both his horse and Carl.

“What is it?”

“I saw a campfire.” He tethered his horse to a juniper, motioning for Carl to do the same. “He must’ve been banking on nobody being able to follow him down the canyon trail in the dark.”

“Nobody ever said he was smart.” Carl jerked the reins into a knot around the bole of a tree. “He’s going to find out it isn’t so healthy for a man to snatch a little girl and carry her off.” He yanked his shotgun from his scabbard.

Ben paused, his hand on Carl’s shoulder. “I need you to be calm. We’ll sneak up on him, make sure that fire isn’t a trap, and see if we can lay eyes on Amanda. Once we see how things are, we’ll move in on him. You wait for me and follow my lead. I’m going to swing around and get on the other side of the fire. You hang back in the shadows and don’t make a move until I do. I’m pretty sure it’s him and not some other cowpoke riding the grub line, because there aren’t any other tracks but Shoop’s, but it would be best to make sure. I’d hate to plug some tinker or whiskey trader or wrangler by mistake.”

“It’s him.” The grim tone in Carl’s voice sent a quiver through Ben’s gut. “Shoop is mine, don’t forget that.”

“Shoop is whosever can get him without Amanda getting hurt. Don’t forget that. It’ll take me awhile to work my way around quiet-like, so don’t go rushing in. Wait for me before you move unless Amanda’s in immediate danger. Got it?” Ben unholstered his sidearm, checked the load, and slipped into the brush.

Calm resolve settled over Ben, and he was surprised at how nerveless he felt now that the moment was upon him. His quarry was within his grasp, and if he played this right, Amanda would soon be safe.

Careful where he put his feet, easing around rabbit brush, mesquite, juniper, and soapberry, Ben made a wide arc around where he’d seen the campfire. He caught the tang of smoke and burning cedar on the faint evening breeze, and through the foliage, he caught glimpses of flames.

The camp was backed up to the riverbank in a clear spot surrounded by salt cedars. Ben squatted beside a wind-tortured hackberry, trying to keep his eyes away from the campfire and preserve his night vision.

There she was, huddled a few feet from the fire, her arms wrapped around her knees, her face hidden. Her hair had come out of its braids and hung around her thin shoulders like a pale shawl, and in the flickering firelight, he glimpsed bare skin where her sleeve had been ripped away from her dress. A sob escaped, wracking her little body.

Ben tamped down the fury that flared along his veins. Now wasn’t the time for anger. He only hoped Carl didn’t see Amanda crying until Shoop was safely in custody. His best friend set high store by that little girl, and if Ben was angry, Carl was probably ready to erupt like that Krakatoa volcano Ben had read about in the papers a few years ago.

Shoop squatted close to Amanda and the fire, throwing sticks into the blaze, apparently unconcerned about anyone watching. In keeping with what Ben knew about Ivan Shoop, he’d tied his horse to a dead tree without so much as a mouthful of grass or leaves within his scope of movement.

“No cold camp for me. I want me some coffee. You kin have some, too.” This was met with another sob and a raising of a wan little face, enormous eyes reflecting the firelight and tear tracks cutting through the grime on her cheeks. She shook her head and buried her face again.

“Ungrateful brat. I should’ve cut your throat and left you out there on the prairie. If those idiot brothers of mine don’t get that gold after all the trouble I’ve gone to, I’m going to gut ’em and feed their lights and livers to the coyotes.” He spit into the snapping, sparking fire. “And quit your sniveling, or I’ll belt you again. Never seed such a crybaby before in all my born days. If you was my kid, I’d drown you in the river like an unwanted pup.”

He was close to Amanda, too close. But there was little cover left between Ben and the camp. If he bided his time, perhaps Shoop would move away and he could get the drop on him. As it was, Ivan was so close to the little girl, he could snatch her up and use her as a shield before Ben could cross half the distance.

“I said quit yer crying. I told you I’d let you go in a couple of days when my brothers meet me here with the gold. All they gotta do is blow a hole in the jail and get past one puny girl and a busted-up deputy. I figure the explosion will kill the girl or the deputy. Mebbe both. Then it’s grab the gold and go. And if those bonehead brothers of mine botch the robbery, well, I’ll still have you to ransom. I can’t imagine the townsfolk wouldn’t trade the gold for you. It ain’t even their gold.”

Blow a hole in the jail? Ben’s guts knotted and his hands shook. Cassie … what did I do leaving you there?
Please, God, protect her. Give my dad an inkling as to what’s going on, and please, don’t let them be injured. The gold isn’t worth their lives
.

Amanda inched away from Ivan when he dropped onto his haunches and dug in his pack. He drew out a bag of Arbuckle’s and dumped some of the ground coffee into a battered spatterware coffeepot. He dragged out a burlap bundle and flicked a strip of jerky expertly at her. It landed in her skirts where she ignored it, staring at him with those heartrending eyes.

“Eat it. It’s all you’re gonna get.”

With a regal lift to her chin, she picked up the jerky, skewered him with a glare, and flicked the dried meat into the fire. “My mama told me never to take food from strangers.”

Atta girl
. Ben’s chest swelled. She might be scared, but she was hanging in there and even giving him some sass-back.

Ivan’s face darkened, and before Amanda could move, he backhanded her across the face. She shrieked and tumbled to the side into the sand, and Ben leaped upright, his gun forward.

A roar split the night, and Carl, shotgun aimed at Ivan Shoop, erupted into the camp. Thankfully, he didn’t fire, since the blast would’ve caught Amanda as well.

Canny when it came to self-preservation, Shoop grabbed the little girl and held her before him, shielding himself from his attacker, his gun held to her jaw.

“Stop right there or I’ll shoot her, so help me.” He faced Carl who halted in his tracks. “How’d you get here? No way I figured you’d try that trail in the dark.”

“Let her go, Shoop, or I’ll make a sieve out of your hide.” Carl’s fists engulfed the shotgun, holding it at his waist.

“No chance. She’s my only hope of getting out of this pickle alive.” He angled away from Carl toward the river, putting him in profile to Ben. Amanda squirmed and Shoop shoved the gun harder into her cheek. “Hold still, you little …”

Ben cocked his handgun, stepping out of the shadows. “Put her down. There’s no way out of this.”

Shoop jerked his head around over the top of Amanda’s. White ringed his eyes, and spittle appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you come no closer. I’ll kill her. I will.” He edged toward the water, half-circling the fire to put it between him and them.

“You do and you’ll die of lead poisoning. I can guarantee it.” Carl snarled at him but moved no closer.

“Steady. Let’s all just be calm.” Ben couldn’t risk spooking Ivan completely. Shoop’s finger was on the trigger, and a mere twitch would send Amanda right into the hereafter.

“Never figured you boys would try that trail in the dark. You must be powerful attached to this kid. If that’s the case, then you’ll let me ride out of here alive.” He kept his head on a swivel, trying to see both Ben and Carl at the same time. “Don’t know why you’d care about her though. She ain’t done nothin’ but cry and cower the whole time. Ain’t hardly worth the bullet it would take to get rid of her.”

“Amanda, don’t you listen to him. We’re going to get you out of this, darling. Hang on.” Ben kept his tone calm. His brain ran at a gallop, calculating a way to make his words come true.

“I’m going to beat you into a powder if you don’t turn her loose right now, Shoop.” Carl advanced a step, his eyes skewering the kidnapper.

“Stay back.” Both Ben and Ivan spoke at the same time.

He stopped, his chest heaving as if he was within a breath of launching himself at Shoop and burying him in the mud with one punch.

“Amanda, darlin’, do you remember when we were down by the bridge and you showed me how brave you were?” Ben eased to his left to get more in front of her and Ivan. Her little shoes dangled off the ground, and Ivan’s forearm pinned her to him around her waist.

She nodded. Her little hands bit into her captor’s forearm, but she was no match for a grown man.

“You remember the gift I made for you?”

He saw the moment she started following the trail he was laying.

“I remember.”

“You’re a brave girl.”

Her hands relaxed, and she slumped against Ivan. Ben edged a little more to his left, trying not to give away the whole show. Her fist went into her apron pocket, and she withdrew it, clutching something, her eyes never leaving Ben’s.

With the barest of nods, he told her it was time.

She shook her hand, and the sound guaranteed to make any man’s blood run cold buzzed through the night.

Shoop reacted as if he’d been scalded. His gun jerked, he all but threw Amanda from him, and he whirled, firing at the ground. The instant the little girl was clear and he had a clean shot, Ben took it, planting a bullet between Ivan Shoop’s eyes at the same instant the outlaw whirled to shoot at Amanda. Carl’s shot followed hot on Ben’s, jerking Shoop’s body up and back.

He fell into the river with a splash, and Ben drew a shaky breath, holstering his smoking weapon. Amanda covered the distance between herself and Carl in an instant, launching herself into his open arms with a cry.

Ben went to drag Ivan’s corpse from the Prairie Dog Town Fork of the Red River before it floated away, and when he turned back, he smiled. Amanda had her little arms around Carl’s neck, and the big livery-stable man was stroking her hair and whispering to her. Ben wasn’t sad that the child had run to Carl instead of him. It was as it should be.

She pulled away a bit, and Carl perched her on his forearm. Ben put his hands on his hips and grinned at her over the fire.

“Amanda Hart, you’re, without a doubt, one of the bravest females I know.”

“Of course she is. And smart, too. I couldn’t think what you two were up to, but she caught on like a prairie fire.” Carl hugged her, grinning, his relief pouring off him in waves.

“Carl, I have to head back to town. You heard what he said. His brothers are going to blow up the jail.” He had to get back to Cassie.

His friend nodded. “You go ahead. Amanda and I will follow, and we’ll bring him, too.” He jerked his thumb at Ivan. “No sense in us slowing you down. Be careful on that trail though. We probably won’t risk it until daylight, but I see why you can’t wait. When you hit town, after you take care of the rest of this so-called outlaw gang, be sure to tell Jenny that Amanda’s all right and I’m bringing her home.”

Ben winked at Amanda, nodded to Carl, and headed upstream to get his horse, his only thought now on getting to Cassie before it was too late.
Please, God, don’t let me be too late
.