Chapter Fourteen
“Get down!” Mary heard John yell.
She didn’t need any encouragement. She was already off her horse and running for the trees that lined the trail.
Another bullet sizzled past her ear. One slapped at some leaves hanging on a nearby tree, while a third one kicked up bark as it bore into the tree itself.
“You thought you could make a fool of us? That we wouldn’t come after you?” a familiar voice yelled.
A shiver traced Mary’s spine. She recognized that voice from back at the stagecoach station.
Butch Morehead.
Had he been tracking them this whole time? Evidently so. Or maybe they’d just happened upon them now and decided to get revenge.
The how of it all didn’t really matter.
Right now, staying alive was all that mattered.
Fear seized her. She got behind the thickest tree and flattened herself on the leaf and twig-strewn ground. Praying there wasn’t a rattler or other kind of snake there, she figured she’d just have to take her chances.
Because the other alternative was a bullet, and she sure didn’t want to catch one of those.
She looked up and could see the trail. John had dove to his left while she’d gone to the right, so they were now on opposite sides of the road.
This provided a golden opportunity, she realized. While John was tied up with those bounty hunters, she could make a break for it.
But…
A pained groan signaled her internal struggle. Could she just leave him to fend off those vicious men by himself? Then again, what could she really do if she stayed? It wasn’t like she was much of a fighter or shooter, despite what the campfire stories and dime novels claimed about her. And she didn’t have a gun.
Plus, God forbid the evil Butch and his men won and John went down, she’d be defenseless against the savage beasts. She’d seen the look in their eyes the other day. It didn’t take a genius to guess all the things they had in mind for her. So, the reasonable thing to do was get away now, just in case.
Yet something inside her wouldn’t let her budge.
She lay there for a few tense moments, watching as the gun battle played out before her. Her mind was too lost in thought, though, for her to really even hear the shots. She was only vaguely aware that the horses bolted up the road, clearly spooked by the gunfire and yearning to be free of the terrifying chaos.
Come on, Mary. It might not be easy, but sometimes, you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. It’ll be fine. Just get up. And get to it.
With that in mind, she sighed, slowly rose to her feet, turned around, and took off through the trees.
***
There was a small ravine just off the trail, but it didn’t give John much cover, so he’d crawled on his belly all the way to the tree line.
Slugs had plunked into the earth all around him. For a moment, he’d figured he was a goner. Miraculously, though, he’d made it behind a large oak that provided some cover, though at the rate the bullets were chewing into it, he might have to move in a few minutes.
White puffs of smoke from their rifles told John that the hardcases were fortified behind a cluster of boulders just up the trail and to the right a ways where the road started to curve. Thankfully, the horses had run off, so they were safe now. They most likely wouldn’t go far. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to chase down his mount after getting separated from it during a gunfight.
He was just thankful Butch and his friends hadn’t shot the animals out of pure meanness. Their sparing of their lives probably hadn’t been out of compassion, though. They weren’t that kind of men. No, they probably had it in mind to catch them and keep ‘em or sell ‘em. A horse had a lot of value out on the frontier.
John would have to worry about the horses later. Right now, he just needed to stay alive! And, of course, keep Mary alive and out of the clutches of those men. The thought of what they wanted to do to her made him quake with white hot rage. He’d put bullets into every one of them before he let them lay a finger on her. That was for damn sure.
But as he looked across the road to where Mary had taken cover, it seemed awfully still.
Had she fled?
Maybe she was just being smart and keeping as hidden as possible.
Or maybe she’d taken off.
That shouldn’t surprise him, he realized. She wasn’t his friend. She sure wasn’t the little girl he’d longed for, the one he’d dreamed about all those lonely nights on the trail.
No, she’d been a fugitive from justice. And now she was his prisoner.
At least, he hoped she still was.
For all he knew, she was getting the hell out of there and would go so far, no one from those parts would ever see her again.
Part of him hoped that was the case.
Go Mary, he thought. Be free.
Suddenly, he felt the wind-rip of a bullet as it soared a mere inch from his ear. Damn. That one had been too close.
And…it had come from behind him!
He spun around and realized one of the bounty hunters must had snuck through the trees down the trail a bit and was now closing in from that direction. That meant they had John in a crossfire!
It looked like he was done for, he realized. But maybe he could take at least one—or more—out with him. He needed to do enough damage so that the trio couldn’t get their grubby hands on Mary!
Or, at the very least, maybe he could distract them long enough to give her time to get away.
Ironic, he thought. Now he was hoping she had escaped!
The bullets were flying from both directions. He leveled his Winchester rifle at the man coming up from behind and squeezed off a few shots, working the lever as fast as he could. Unfortunately, the guy was able to duck away behind the cover of a tall tree before he was actually hit.
They sure had John pinned in a bad spot.
He didn’t have much time left. All he could do was make a fight of it. For Mary.
But the snickering of horses and thundering hooves reached his ears in between the gunfire. He sent a few more shots to keep the guy behind him at bay, then quickly moved to another tree and turned to see his two horses racing around the trail’s bend up ahead.
Mary sat atop one, leading the other behind her, riding hell for leather toward John.
He worked the lever on his rifle some more and sent lead toward the boulders, keeping those men pinned down, too. One of his shots went high and plowed into a collection of smaller rocks that were resting atop the big ones.
That hadn’t been his intention, but it worked out perfectly. The rocks tumbled down. The shooting from behind the boulders stopped and cursing and screams told him the mini avalanche had done some damage.
Mary brought the animals to a skidding stop right in front of John. He grabbed the reins of his horse, put a foot in the stirrup, and swung up onto the magnificent beast.
“Head the way you came!” he called to Mary. “There’s another guy back there.” He jerked his head toward the bounty hunter who was still seeking refuge in the trees.
They rode around the bend and when they passed the boulders, sure enough, John saw Butch and one of his friends knocked out cold. At least, he thought they were only knocked out. It was possible those rocks stove their heads in, though.
He hoped not. Killing brought him no satisfaction, though there was nothing else he could have done in this situation. Protecting Mary was all that mattered.
Mary—the one who’d come back for him.
A smile turned his lips upward.
Damn. That little cutie had surprised him.
Something else surprised him now, too. A group of five men were riding hard toward them, dust kicking up behind their horses as the hooves pounded the trail.
Did Butch have friends in the area?
But relief washed over John when he saw the sunlight gleaming off the stars the newcomers wore.
The law had arrived.
He reined up, showed his own badge, and identified himself.
“What’s going on, Deputy?” the lead man asked.
“We were jumped by some bounty hunters back there. How’d y’all happen along?”
“I’m Marshal Vance McCoy and these are my deputies. You’re mighty close to McAlester. It’s just around that next bend there. We heard the shooting and came to see what’s going on!”
John smiled. “Boy am I glad you did! Two of ‘em are down. Not sure if they’re breathing or not. One is still hiding in the trees.”
“We’ll get them,” the marshal said. Turning a bit in the saddle, he eyed his men. “Come on! They attacked a Deputy United States Marshal! Let’s round up those skunks and show ‘em how we deal with the likes of them around these parts!”
The men cheered.
John breathed a sigh of relief.
He was thankful for the help. But what he was thankful for the most was that Mary was still alive.
And close to him.