The Horseman's Bride (15 page)

The words cut into her, as she knew he’d meant them to. His brusqueness was a show, calculated to make his leaving easier. And in truth, Clara was sure she wouldn’t be having Tanner’s baby. Her menses were due any day now, and she was always regular. But if by some chance it happened, she wouldn’t be ashamed to have Tanner’s child. And she would never regret having loved him.

“Hurry up now.” He tossed her jeans and boots onto the foot of the bed. “I’ll be outside checking around. Come out when you’re dressed and we’ll say goodbye.” He paused in the doorway, his face a stoic mask. “Please don’t make this any harder than it already is, Clara.”

As the door swung shut behind him, she scrambled into her clothes. Tanner was right. For the sake of his life and his freedom, he had to leave—and she had to let him. There were some things that all the love in the world couldn’t change.

Fighting tears, she came out onto the porch and
closed the door behind her. Tanner was standing by the stallion, waiting for her.

“You go first,” he said. “I want to know you’re on your way down the trail before I leave.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll take a few minutes to straighten up the cabin, lock the door and replace the key before I ride out. If you don’t see me go, you can’t be forced to tell anybody where I went.”

“I’d never do that!” she exclaimed.

“I know. But I’m trying to protect you.” He opened his arms. “Come here, girl. Let’s say a proper goodbye.”

She went to him and he gathered her close. His strong arms made her feel as if she’d come home. But Clara knew that without him, she would never truly come home again.

“Be happy,” he murmured against her hair. “Know that wherever I am, you’ll be my first thought when I wake up and my last thought before I go to sleep.”

She suppressed a sob. “And you’ll be in my prayers every night. Be safe, my love.”

He kissed her gently, then eased her away and turned her toward the edge of the trees, where Tarboy stood waiting. “Go now,” he said. “Don’t look back. I won’t be able to stand it if you do.”

Squaring her shoulders and setting her chin, Clara strode toward the black horse and swung into the saddle. It took all her self-control to keep from looking back as they started down the trail. The time she’d dreaded with all her heart had finally come. She’d seen the last of Jason Tanner Denby.

She imagined him riding the mountain trails, looking for a safe place to rest. With the poster in circulation, no town would be safe for him. He’d have little choice except to stay out of sight and keep moving. Cold and wet and hungry, he’d be forced to run like a hunted animal, trusting no one. Even people who acted friendly might be planning to turn him in for the reward.

If he got hurt or became sick, he wouldn’t dare see a doctor. With no one to help him, he could die alone and in pain. And even that would be better than what would happen if he was arrested.

But she couldn’t bear to think of that now. She could only pray that Tanner would make it safely across the border into Mexico. Maybe he would find a new life there—a good one, with a family of his own. She would try to think of him that way, safe and happy, Clara promised herself. And she would try to be happy as well, here on the ranch with her family and her beloved horses. But she would never forget the man she’d known as Tanner. And whatever happened, she would never stop loving him.

The wind had freshened, cooling the tears that scalded her cheeks. Now that there was no need to hold them back, they flowed freely, trickling down the sides of her nose, leaving their salty taste on her lips. She remembered Tanner’s loving, the thrill of feeling him move inside her. Never again in her life would anything be so perfect.

The sky was still dark, the light of the stars cold and comfortless. Aspen leaves fluttered in the wind, their
sound like the patter of light rain. From a distant hilltop, a coyote yipped its mournful cry.

The surefooted gelding took the trail at a brisk walk. At this rate she’d be back at the ranch in an hour. She might even make it back into the house before anyone missed her. She no longer cared whether she was scolded or not. But her family didn’t deserve the worry that finding her gone again would cause them.

Starting with the new day, Clara resolved, she would try to be less of a burden to her parents and more of a help. She would be a more obedient daughter, a more understanding sister, a more—

Her musings ended in a scream of terror. The scream became a gasp as the circle of rope that had landed on her shoulders jerked tight around her throat. She clutched at the rough hemp, fighting for breath as Tarboy reared and bolted away, flinging her hard onto the muddy trail.

For a few seconds Clara lay still, stunned by the impact. As her senses cleared she became aware of someone leaning over her. A sneering face emerged out of the darkness—a face that was all too familiar.

“Well, if it isn’t the lovely Miss Clara Seavers. Fancy meeting you here,” said Lyle McCabe.

J
ace gave the cabin a final check, making sure the bed was smoothed, the mud tracks swept off the floor and fresh kindling laid in the stove. Caution and courtesy dictated that he leave things exactly as he’d found them. But there could be no undoing what he’d done to Clara.

A stern voice in his head lectured him that he should have left well enough alone, that she’d pay in anguish and regret for giving her innocence to a man who could never marry her. But what he and Clara had done had been an act of love, he argued with himself. To turn her away when she’d begged him to fulfill her would have been cruel.

Jace swore out loud, cursing himself in the darkness. He was rationalizing. He knew it and he hated it. The simple truth was, he’d wanted her—wanted her with all the hunger of his aroused male body. He’d wanted to take her, to possess her, to make her his the only way he could. Her need, and the fact that he loved her with
his whole heart and soul, had only sweetened the temptation.

Clara was the one precious thing in his world. For what he’d done to her, he deserved to be tied to a post and horsewhipped.

But there was no time to dwell on what had happened. Right now he needed to make some fast tracks out of here. If anybody had recognized him from the poster, the whole damned county could be up in arms, looking for him.

The stallion was waiting outside, saddled, bridled and loaded with his gear. Jace had a web of trails to choose from, but the route he’d almost taken earlier, before Clara had called him back, showed the most promise of leading him away from the valley. He might have to rough it in the mountains, but the provisions Clara had brought him should last a few days, longer if he rationed them carefully. Once those were gone…But it was no use planning ahead. He could only take things as they came, one day at a time.

He was about to mount his horse when he heard Clara’s scream.

In the awful silence that followed, he leaped onto the saddle and spurred the stallion down the trail. Had a cougar attacked the horse? Had some accident flung Clara out of the saddle? Scenes of horror flashed through his mind, each one worse than the last.

He didn’t have far to go. He was less than a hundred yards below the cabin, zigzagging down the winding trail when a familiar voice stopped him cold.

“Hold it right there, Denby. I’ve got Miss Clara here, and she’s going to get hurt if you don’t do exactly as I say.”

“First I need to know she’s all right,” Jace called back. “Unless I hear it from her, I’m coming after you!”

There was a scuffling sound. The next voice he heard was Clara’s. “Run, Tanner!” she shouted. “Deputy McCabe won’t hurt me! He wouldn’t dare! My family would—”

A resounding slap cut off her words. “You’ll keep quiet if you know what’s good for you, missy!” McCabe growled. Then he raised his voice. “Throw your gun down the hill, Denby. Then get off your horse and walk down the trail with your hands up.”

Jace was tempted to throw something else, like his canteen, down the hill. But he couldn’t risk Clara’s safety on the chance that McCabe wouldn’t be fooled. Damn it, he should have known the bastard might show up. As a local, McCabe would have known about the cabin. All he’d needed to do was follow the tracks up the muddy trail.

Slipping the .38 out of its holster, Jace tossed it downhill. It crashed down the long, steep slope and into the heavy brush below the trail.

“That’s it. Now get off your horse and walk down to where I can see you, hands in the air.”

Jace eased out of the saddle, dropped to the ground and looped the reins around a sapling. Hands high, he began walking down the trail. There had to be a way out of this, but he wouldn’t know what to do until he saw Clara.

“Make if snappy. No tricks now, or I won’t be responsible for what happens to the lady here.” McCabe sounded as if he relished being in charge. Lord knew what the bastard was capable of doing to Clara.

All thought fled from Jace’s mind as he rounded the last bend and saw her. He bit back the moan that rose in his throat. Clara was standing in front of McCabe on a narrow section of trail, with a fifty-foot drop below. One end of a rope lashed her wrists behind her back. The other end was wrapped and knotted securely around an aspen trunk at the trail’s edge. Between Clara and the tree lay about ten feet of slack rope.

Jace saw at once where the danger lay. The thought of what could happen made his gut clench. If anything went wrong, all McCabe needed to do was nudge Clara over the edge. The rope would jerk tight, saving her from a fifty-foot drop. McCabe would then have the choice of pulling her up or untying the rope and letting her fall to her death. But seeing the way Clara’s hands were bound, Jace guessed that McCabe had failed to take one thing into account. The sudden upward stress on her arms would wrench the bones from their shoulder sockets. She wouldn’t die, but the pain would be excruciating. Even worse, the injuries could cripple her arms for life.

Either way, McCabe would have a ready way to justify what he’d done. His story would be that he’d tied her up to keep her safe while he went after a wanted murderer, and in her struggles, she’d slipped off the trail. The story would be entirely believable. Clara had
broken the law by aiding a fugitive. Even if she lived to talk, anything she said would be suspect. It would be her word against McCabe’s.

Jace’s eyes flickered from Clara’s pale face to the cocked pistol in the deputy’s hand. “Is this your idea of bravery, McCabe, using a woman for a shield?” he asked.

“Shut up!” McCabe snarled. “A murdering bastard like you doesn’t deserve to be taken in fair fight! Down on your face, hands behind your back, before the little lady takes a tumble.”

Jace lowered himself toward the ground. Moonlight glinted on the handcuffs that dangled from McCabe’s belt. There had to be some way out of this mess. Maybe later, while the deputy was taking him to jail, he could make a break for it. Given what he was facing, he’d have nothing to lose—and he’d choose dying on the run over hanging any day. But right now nothing mattered except Clara’s safety. Whatever the cost, he couldn’t risk her coming to harm.

As his knees touched the ground his gaze met Clara’s. In her eyes he saw terror, but he saw the flash of courage as well. She was a fighter, and she wasn’t ready to give up.

Jace was proud of her defiant spirit. He loved her for it. But there was such a thing as too much bravery.

Clara was the most precious thing in his life. He was sick with fear for her.

Clara twisted against the rope that bound her hands behind her back. The prickly hemp chewed into her skin
with every move, sliming her wrists with blood. If she could get loose while McCabe’s attention was fixed on Tanner, she might be able to get the jump on him—crown him with a rock, push him off the trail or at least distract him long enough for Tanner to get away. But the knots had been skillfully tied. So far, she hadn’t been able to budge them.

She was well aware of the danger. The trail in this spot was slick and narrow, the drop-off steep enough to cause a fatal fall. The rope that tethered her to the tree gave her room to maneuver, but if she slipped and fell…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the opening click of the handcuffs that hung on McCabe’s belt. The man had a gun, she reminded herself. He could shoot Tanner on a whim.

She cursed under her breath—words that would have shocked her mother and grandmother. Why hadn’t Tanner ridden off and left her to deal with McCabe? He could be far up the trail by now. Instead he’d ridden to her rescue and put his freedom, even his life, in peril. She had to do something.

McCabe had released his hold on her to walk over and clamp the handcuffs on Tanner. Still tethered to the tree, with her hands behind her back, Clara had just a few feet of slack, and less than a second to make up her mind.

With one desperate leap, she flung herself against McCabe’s departing back and sank her teeth into the side of his neck, just above the collar.

“You little bitch! I’ll kill you!” With a yowl of pain he swung around to get her, but Clara held on like a bulldog, biting so hard she feared her jaw would crack. She could taste the warm saltiness of his blood.

Tanner charged, springing to his feet and smashing into McCabe’s gut. McCabe grunted as the breath whooshed out of him, but he kept his grip on the pistol. His finger was tightening on the trigger when Tanner seized his wrist, using his strength to twist the muzzle upward. The gun fired into the air, the report echoing down the canyon as the two men grappled for the weapon.

Clara struggled to hang on to McCabe but she was stretching the limit of the rope that tethered her to the tree. As the rope tightened, the tension yanked her loose. She reeled backward toward the edge of the trail.

Fighting for balance, she teetered on the edge of the drop-off. Only by flinging herself facedown on the earth did she manage to keep herself from tumbling over. But she still wasn’t safe. With no arms to counterbalance her weight and no hands to grip for purchase, her legs began sliding over the slippery edge. She couldn’t stop herself. She was going to fall.

“Tanner!” she screamed. “Tanner!”

Tanner was still grappling with McCabe for the pistol. At Clara’s cry he wrenched himself away. In a flash he was beside her, clasping her shoulders and pulling her up onto solid ground. She scrambled to her feet, standing beside him. He had saved her, but he’d lost any other advantage he might have gained. McCabe had the gun, cocked and trained on them both.

“That’s more like it,” he snarled, dabbing at his neck with his free hand. “I’ll be taking the both of you to town and turning you over to the marshal for murder, Denby, and you, Miss Clara, for aiding a fugitive.” His eyes narrowed. “Down on the ground, Denby, till I get the cuffs on you. No more foolishness, now, or you know what will happen to the lady.”

This time Tanner submitted, eyes blazing with suppressed fury. It broke her heart to see him sprawled on the ground while McCabe manacled his wrists behind his back.

“Where are your friends, McCabe?” Tanner taunted. “I’m impressed that you’d have the balls to come up here alone.”

“I don’t need those drunken clowns,” McCabe snapped. “And I don’t need that old goat, Sam Farley, either. I can do this job by myself.”

“You still have to get me down the mountain. A lot can happen between now and then.” Tanner had regained his feet, but Clara knew he wouldn’t try to get away. Not while McCabe had her at his mercy.

“I can handle it. The plan is, I’ll ride your horse and walk the two of you ahead of me on lead ropes, like a couple of hound dogs.” McCabe grinned, showing the sliver of meat that had stuck between his teeth. “We can pick up my horse on the way down. Once you’re turned in, I’ll collect that fat reward that’s on your head and hightail it out of this flea-bitten town.”

“You can’t collect the reward,” Clara pointed out. “You’re an officer of the law.”

“Is that so?” McCabe grinned, and Clara noticed for the first time that the silver deputy badge was missing from his vest. “For your information, I’ve resigned from hauling drunks to jail and found myself a new line of work—one that’ll pay a lot better than that piddling deputy job.” He gave her a mocking bow. “Meet Lyle McCabe, professional bounty hunter.”

In the shocked silence that followed, Clara measured the impact of McCabe’s announcement. A peace officer was bound by rules of ethical conduct. A bounty hunter was bound by no rules at all, including those of common decency. Jason Tanner Denby was wanted dead or alive. Rather than take a chance on his prisoner escaping, McCabe would likely kill him on the way down the trail. It would be easy enough to fake the evidence, making Tanner’s death look like an accident.

And it would be just as easy for him to do the same to her—not only easy but probable, since she’d be a witness to what he’d done.

Her eyes met Tanner’s in a flicker of understanding. He knew the danger, too. If they couldn’t get away, odds were that they would both be dead by morning.

Tanner was the first one to speak. “If you’re in this for the reward, McCabe, you’ve got no reason to hold Clara. She’s not worth anything to you. Let her go, and I promise not to give you any trouble. I’ll go with you peaceably and you can turn me in for the money.”

“You’re asking me to let that little hellcat go?” McCabe’s free hand fingered the still-bleeding side of his neck. Something akin to madness glinted in his
eyes. “Not on your worthless life! She’s my insurance policy. Long as I’ve got her, you’ll behave—because you know what’ll happen to her if you don’t. Now let’s get moving.” He motioned to Tanner with the pistol. “Your horse should be up there, around that bend in the trail. We’ll leave the little lady here while we get it. Then it’ll be time to head for town.”

McCabe motioned again with the gun, indicating that Tanner was to come with him. Watching him, Clara sensed a subtle change in the man. His eyes had narrowed. His gestures had become jerkier, more nervous. The tip of his tongue slid uneasily across his upper lip.

Her heart lurched as she realized what McCabe was planning to do.

The section of trail where Tanner had left the stallion was wider and more level than here. But it ran along the top of a sheer cliff with jagged rocks at the bottom. A fall onto those rocks would be fatal.

Once the two men rounded the bend in the trail, Clara would no longer be able to see them. There would be no witnesses when McCabe forced the handcuffed Tanner over the edge of the cliff. And no one in town could question McCabe’s claim that Tanner had fallen while trying to escape.

Tanner was already walking away from her to follow McCabe up the trail. As long as she was in danger, Clara knew he wouldn’t make any trouble. Somehow she had to stop him.

And she knew of only one way.

“Wait!” she shouted. “Wait, both of you!”

Both men turned to look at her, McCabe’s eyes narrow and suspicious, Tanner’s reflecting her own desperation.

“I have an offer for you, Mr. McCabe,” she said. “I want you to listen and think it over before you walk up that trail.”