Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
Early the next morning, bemused by her kisses with Max, Cally gladly waved goodbye to her suitors. Mr. Yardley and Mr. Anderson, sunburned and peeling, looked worse for their time at the Sky Top. Finn had become a temporary member of Sheriff Sam’s posse, no time for courting.
The two other suitors were still tryin’ to impress her, Mr. Gidding going so far as to offer her his carriage to travel into town the next day for the town dance, an offer she politely thanked him for, not scoffing at all—at least, not aloud—at the idea she would go anywhere in a carriage, including to town, when she could instead ride Apollo.
As soon as they all disappeared down the drive with their trunks and luggage, Cally hurriedly changed into her navy-blue riding skirt and pink striped blouse—the one with the fancy silver embroidery among the stripes—and slipped out of the house to the barn.
Apollo greeted her with a quiet nicker, his muzzle soft against her palm where he nuzzled her, and swiftly, she saddled him, knowing she was going to just burst if she didn’t ride fast and far, away from the suitors who’d disillusioned her.
Away from Prince Max, who confused her.
Away from his kisses.
Though his kisses were mighty fine. But they, along with him, still confused her. And it’d be downright loco to encourage feelings for a prince who was goin’ to leave her in a strike of lightning, or a rush of a flood in a few weeks’ time, or even sooner.
Besides, she had a hankering to see what had been going on along the Elkhorn River the past two days. She figured the Evil Prince couldn’t have gotten far with his dam in the time she’d been obliged to entertain her suitors, her ma making her stay on the ranch and act like a lady. She’d check on the river and hurry home before anyone knew she was gone.
She’d be real careful. After what she’d learned about Prince Hugo, she reckoned she needed to steer clear of the Crown itself for a while. But nothin’ could stop her going to the top of Lookout Peak at the Madden place, near its border with the Crown, and seeing what she could see.
“Where’s Miss Calliope?” Max asked Livia as he sat down on one of the picnic benches on the ranch house’s front porch, glad to be rid of his butler uniform. And the suitors, who’d left a little less than an hour ago. He was looking forward to having Miss Calliope all to himself again.
“Probably somewhere she can celebrate the departure of her suitors without having to worry about what anyone else might think,” Livia said from the nearer rocking chair. Wearing a high-necked blue day dress, she raised her eyebrows a bit, a pair of knitting needles in her hands. “You look a little stunned there.”
He set his cowboy hat down on the picnic table, next to the checkerboard, the morning still relatively cool. “She kissed me,” he said in a quiet voice, still in a bit of a daze from their kiss last night, a leisurely kiss, not the hurried first one. A passionate kiss. “Miss Calliope. Last night. Her idea, not mine.”
Livia seemed to fight a grin. “Are you afraid she might have turned you into a frog?”
He laughed, but inside his heart, a revelation was beating in his chest. “I think she turned me into a?—”
A shout came from the barn.
“ Max ,” Bart yelled from beside the large building, leading Zeus out of the adjacent corral. Beside him, Creede was leading his black horse, the only one of their visitors left, Roy having joined up with the posse to keep searching for Jeremiah’s kidnappers, and Doc having gone back to town with the suitors. “ This way .”
Max ran fast in his cowboy boots to the barn. “What’s happened?”
“Cally’s gone. She’s taken Apollo. Matthew saw her heading for Coyote Fall on his way here this morning.” Bart mounted his horse. “If I know her, she’s galloping toward the Crown to check on Prince Hugo’s dam.”
Cally sat astride Apollo high on the slopes of Lookout Peak, on the south end of the Madden ranch, Apollo breathing fast from the steep climb. They’d been real careful when they’d left the Sky Top, traveling straight west onto the Madden place before they’d reached Coyote Fall, never going anywhere near the Crown. Even so, she could see the Elkhorn River this high up, and most of everything else around, Lookout Peak bein’ the tallest bit of land in these parts until you got to the Sky Top Mountains, or the Wind Dance range.
Through her binoculars, the shorter hillside in the far distance where she’d first found Prince Max—only three days ago, though it seemed as if she’d known him forever—shimmered in the morning sun. The Elkhorn itself glittered, the water flowing freely, and she let out a relieved breath.
It didn’t look like the Evil Prince’s men had gotten very far in their work since the flood. A few smaller rocks were stacked by the wagon still sittin’ on the flat rise above the flood line. Some bigger stones were piled next to the still muddy riverbank.
She’d have to ask Max what they could do to stop Prince Hugo from building any more on his dam. Max was a learned feller, who knew many a useful thing.
Her heart feeling lighter, now that she was free of her suitors, and of worries about the dam, she turned back toward the Sky Top.
Or started to.
Off to the right, the faint thundering of hooves came on the hot air.
Her heart perked up even higher. Steering Apollo out of the trees, she made for the base of the hill.
Max, Bart, and Creede were just leaving the southwest edge of the Sky Top, at something of a high point atop a rocky ridge that formed the west flank of Eagle Hill, when the sound of thunder came on the air.
His whole body tensing, Max looked up at the sky.
Clear and blue, not a cloud to be seen.
He turned toward the sound itself, not reassured by the fact it was coming from the west. But there were no clouds in that direction, either, just the broad, flat valley he’d noticed on previous trips this way. It was a beautiful valley, spreading out south from the foot of the tallest hill he’d seen in the area, stretching wide to the east and west, its buffalo grass lush, the grass spotted with wildflowers. On the east end, nearest him, a low ridge marked its boundary. And on the other end, where the grass butted up against a low butte, a herd of horses—wild mustangs, he’d bet—was galloping out of what looked like a narrow canyon carved along the base of the butte, heading into the valley.
A faint whoop of joy crossed the air, then a young woman who could only be Miss Calliope came into view atop a galloping black horse who could only be Apollo, the two of them racing down a gentle incline from the tall hill, Apollo picking up speed on the flat, heading straight for the herd.
Max felt a moment of awe. His heart leaped at the sight, his soul stirred.
Through the rush of desire to race with her, he was relieved they’d found her before Hugo had.
“She’s like those wild mustangs,” he said to Bart, his heart straining toward her, and nodded at the herd of wild horses racing across the big valley.
“Those horses won’t have anywhere to run if your ancestor has his say.”
Nor will Miss Calliope, Max realized, if she married any of those men who’d been courting her at the Sky Top. Then Bart’s words sunk in deeper. “Wait a minute,” he said, pulling his binoculars from his saddlebag. “Is that Crown land down there?”
“Not this valley,” Bart said, “but Horse Canyon at the other end sure as hell is. Don’t you know your own place?”
Not as well as he wished he did. “I’m still matching the drone footage to the actual thing. If this valley isn’t Crown land,” he said, scanning the canyon and valley with his binoculars, “whose is it?”
“It’s Madden land,” Creede said. “Doc’s place. The valley Prince Hugo tried to fence off for himself.” He pointed to a low ridge along the south end of the valley. “The top of that ridge marks the start of your ranch.”
Miss Calliope and Apollo veered around in a tight U-turn when they neared the herd, Apollo reversing direction to ride parallel to the wild horses as they all headed Max’s way, Miss Calliope riding the stallion as if she were a part of it, her braid flying out behind her.
He watched her with the binoculars, her whole posture speaking of joy, of freedom.
Wanting to share that joy and freedom with her, he urged Ares toward the valley, hurrying to join her.
Cally was racing Apollo along one side of the wild herd, keeping a good distance from the other horses, Apollo lengthening his strides, when she saw Max galloping toward her atop Ares, Max racing, too, and she grinned, figuring he was having one of them ‘Wild West’ moments he liked to talk about.
Feeling alive, she raised her face to the sun, the thunder of horse hooves reverberating in the air, reverberating through the ground. Reverberating through her, her whole being filled with joy.
At the head of the mustangs, the herd’s stallion whinnied a challenge to Apollo.
Cally held Apollo in check.
The valley began to narrow.
Bart and Sheriff Sam had joined Max, starting across the buffalo grass a mile away.
Spooked by the other riders galloping toward them, the herd veered south, going almost up to the edge of the valley, where a wooded ridge rose sharply, then they turned back to the west toward their canyon.
Not ready to let the herd go yet, she followed in their wake, Apollo stretching out his legs after too long stuck at the?—
A gunshot sounded.
Cally caught her breath.
Up ahead, a rider dressed in the fancy black outfit Max had said was Prince Hugo’s livery raced down through the last of the trees on the sharp slope of the southern ridge, leaping out onto the valley’s grass, right into her path.
Cally veered Apollo around him, recognizing one of the men who’d been with Prince Hugo when he’d come calling at the Sky Top.
Farther ahead, a second rider in black came down the last few feet of the wooded ridge, then a third rider, then a fourth, the three of them making a half circle in front of her and Apollo, the first rider coming up behind her.
Her heart stopped for a moment, then with a shout, she urged Apollo straight at the rider directly ahead, Apollo gathering speed.
The first gunshot had sent Max’s heart racing.
The second gunshot made his lungs freeze. Miss Calliope and Apollo had charged straight for one of the black-clad riders in front of her, who had promptly pulled a pistol from his holster and fired over their heads.
“What the hell does he think he’s doing?” Max yelled, riding fast and low over Ares’s neck, Ares leaping over a narrow trickle of a creek, Max urging the horse faster when they landed on the other side, his heart beating hard at the fear the four men penning in Miss Calliope were Hugo’s henchmen.
“Your damned ancestor is trying to kidnap my sister,” Bart yelled back, Zeus pulling the slightest ahead of Max and Creede, binoculars held to Bart’s face.
“ What ?” Max shouted, raising his own binoculars. But Bart was right. A fifth rider was coming out of the cover of the trees where the ridge ended on the valley floor, the rider’s red-sashed military coat unmistakable, even at that distance. Tension filled Max’s every cell. “ But she’s on Madden land. ” Shoving the brim of his hat down over his brow, and with one hand on one of the two holstered pistols Bart had loaned him, he urged Ares faster still.
Cally fought to control Apollo, the smell of horse sweat in the air, horse hooves trampling the wildflowers in the grass, the stallion angry and frightened by the four unyielding men who’d surrounded them.
It was the fifth man, Max’s ancestor Prince Hugo, who frightened her . Dressed in his dark-blue military coat with its red sash, his medals glinting in the sun, he rode up to her on his gray stallion that under other circumstances she would have admired.
But her heart was beating scared at the Evil Prince’s presence, her lungs breathing fast, despite her attempts to slow them down. Her gaze followed the path of the nasty-looking crop he’d used on his horse, Cally afraid he might try to use it on her.
Steeling her resolve, she leaned forward as if to pat Apollo on his agitated neck, but really, she was going for the small pistol she wore holstered in her boot.
With a nod at the first rider, Prince Hugo turned away toward the ridge he’d come down.
Max, Bart, and Sheriff Sam neared, now a half mile away, their faint shouts on the air.
At the far end of the valley, the wild herd had made itself scarce, heading back into Horse Canyon.
The first rider, his gun aimed at Apollo’s head, rode up close.
Cally grasped her pistol.
Another rider grabbed her from behind, hauling her out of her saddle onto his horse, and in her surprise, she dropped her pistol to the grass with a thud.
Apollo screamed and reared.
Cally kicked and bucked.
The man who’d grabbed her held on to her tight, and they were over the low ridge onto the Crown of the West before Max and the others could even get close.