Chapter 32
Into the Hollow
The land tightened around them as they rode, the cuts narrowing, the stone rising higher and closer. Tessa felt the shift in the air before she saw the place—cooler, stiller, the kind of quiet that meant the world was holding its breath.
We’re close, she thought.
Too close.
Eli pressed against her back, whisper-thin. “Is this it?”
She didn’t answer, because Boyd was watching her like a man perched on a cliff edge with no notion of height. His eyes twitched between her and the ridges, fever-bright, frantic.
“Yes,” she said at last. “Through that cut.”
The notch was narrow, almost invisible unless you knew where to look. Shadows pooled thick inside it.
They rode in single-file—Deke first, Boyd behind him, Tessa in the center, Eli tied close behind her, and Red taking up the rear.
The walls closed around them.
Stone pressed overhead.
The trail sloped downward.
Tessa’s pulse thudded.
Reed… Sam… please be here.
The cut spat them out into the hollow—a basin carved into the earth, ringed by cliffs on three sides. A fallen cedar lay near the far wall. Burned-out tent remnants clung to the shadows. And rising behind it all was the crooked chimney of stone, jagged and unmistakable.
Red whistled. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Boyd yanked the sorrel’s reins, forcing Tessa to stop. “Where’s the stash?”
“In the back,” Tessa said. “Near that chimney.”
Boyd nodded sharply. “Move.”
She nudged the sorrel forward.
A faint scrape of stone.
A whisper of movement along the ledges.
Tessa felt it rather than heard it: They’re here.
Deke stiffened too, eyes narrowing.
“You hear that?” he asked.
“Hear what?” Boyd snapped.
But he never got an answer.
A gunshot split the air.
Red jerked backward and dropped like a sack.
Eli screamed.
The sorrel reared in panic, jerking Tessa forward against the saddle horn. With her hands tied, she could only twist her shoulders, trying to shield Eli with her body as much as she could.
“AMBUSH!” Boyd bellowed, firing wildly at the cliffs.
More shots cracked from above—precise, controlled.
Rafe.
Pike.
Reed.
“TESSA!” Sam’s voice tore through the hollow.
Her breath caught.
Boyd turned in the saddle, eyes wild, and swung his own horse toward hers, trying to use her entire mount as a shield since he couldn’t reach her hands. The sorrel balked, ears flat, crowding sideways under Boyd’s pressure.
“Don’t you move, girl!” he snarled, yanking his horse up so close she could smell the sweat and leather.
Eli pressed hard into her back, terrified.
Sam burst into the open. “Let them go, Boyd!”
Boyd jerked his pistol toward Sam—
Tessa screamed, “SAM—!”
The gun fired.
The bullet slashed across Sam’s temple, carving a hot, burning line above his brow. His head snapped sideways, blood pouring down the side of his face in a sudden, terrifying sheet. He slammed hard into the rock wall, vision bursting white.
He sagged there a moment, dazed, on the edge of falling.
“Sam!” Tessa gasped.
But Sam pushed off the stone, wiping blood from his eye, and charged Boyd with raw fury.
They crashed to the ground. Boyd clawed for his gun. Sam kicked it away. Boyd lunged for Sam’s throat.
Reed’s voice rang out: “SAM—DOWN!”
Sam threw himself sideways.
One clean shot echoed.
Boyd went limp, the fight leaving him all at once.
Silence fell—thick, ringing, unreal.
For a long moment after the last echo died, no one moved.
Dust settled in the hollow. The smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the still air. Tessa’s heartbeat thudded in her ears, louder than the gunfire had been.
Then Pike exhaled sharply. “All right. Let’s see who’s breathin’.”
Rafe moved first, crossing to Tessa and slicing the last of the rope from her wrists. Her hands shook as blood rushed back into them.
“You hurt?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Eli—”
“I’m okay,” Eli whispered, but he wasn’t. His face was pale, his lower lip trembling. Pike lifted him down gently from the saddle, hands steady, not touching more than he needed to.
“You’re all right now,” Pike murmured. “You’re safe.”
Eli nodded quickly, like if he stopped moving, he’d fall apart.
Reed reached Sam just as he staggered, catching him by the arm.
“Sam—your head—”
“It’s nothin’,” Sam muttered, though blood ran warm down his cheek, dripping from his jaw and soaking his shirt collar.
Reed took Sam’s chin and angled his head toward the light. “Bullet grazed your temple good. That’s why you’re seein’ stars.”
“I ain’t—”
Sam swayed. Reed caught him again.
Tessa pushed forward before she realized she’d moved. “Can you stop the bleeding?”
Reed wiped around the wound with a strip torn from his own shirt. “He’ll be all right once we clean it and wrap it. Head wounds bleed like the devil, but this one’s shallow.”
“Feels deep,” Sam muttered.
Reed snorted. “Your skull’s harder’n bad oak. Sit tight.”
Sam sat—mostly because he had no choice.
While Reed cleaned the gash, Pike checked the field.
“Red’s dead,” he announced quietly. “Stone cold.”
Tessa didn’t look. She didn’t need to.
Pike kicked at another body. “Deke’s breathin’. Barely.”
“Bind him,” Rafe said. “Hands and feet. We’ll drag him out if he lives long enough.”
Half-conscious, Deke groaned as Pike rolled him onto his stomach and tied him tight. There was no pity in Pike’s hands—only efficiency.
Boyd lay sprawled farther off, dust settling over the hole Reed’s bullet had put through him. Sam didn’t bother looking his way.
Rafe approached the body anyway. “We’ll roll him to the shade. Ain’t no reason for the scavengers to get at him within the hour.”
They dragged Boyd aside, covering him with a saddle blanket.
When the worst was handled, Rafe returned with two canteens and what was left in the outlaws’ saddlebags.
“Food,” he said gently. “You two need something in you.”
Tessa took a piece of jerky with shaking hands. Eli accepted a biscuit but stared at it a long time before nibbling the edge.
“You sure you’re not hurt?” Rafe asked him.
Eli shook his head. “I—my wrists burn. But I’m okay.”
“Let me see,” Tessa said.
He held out his hands. The skin was raw where the rope had rubbed him.
Eli swallowed. “Tessa? I didn’t mean to follow. I—”
She cupped his cheek with her thumb. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.”
His eyes brimmed.
Reed finished binding Sam’s head and stood back, satisfied enough for now.
“It’ll hold,” he said. “He’ll be dizzy, maybe sleep whether he wants to or not.”
“I ain’t—” Sam muttered.
He swayed hard.
Tessa caught him by the arm before he could tip forward. “Sam, sit still.”
He blinked at her, unfocused, breathing uneven.
Then his voice dropped, barely more than breath:
“Didn’t… didn’t let him hurt you.”
Her eyes stung. She leaned closer, one hand steadying his cheek.
“You saved us,” she whispered fiercely.
Sam exhaled like that truth loosened something deep inside him.
He let his forehead rest against her temple for a heartbeat—just long enough for her to feel how much he’d been holding back.
Reed cleared his throat. “We’ve got at least a half day’s ride. And he’s not ridin’ alone like this.”
Tessa didn’t hesitate. “I’ll ride behind him.”
Reed opened his mouth, thought better of it, and nodded. “All right.”
Pike moved among the scattered horses, gathering reins and checking for injuries. “Five loose,” he muttered. “Plus ours. Busy morning.”
He clicked his tongue and began tethering them together, knotting reins in a tight, controlled line so none could bolt. “They’ll follow easy enough once we’re movin’.”
Rafe hauled Deke over one of the outlaw mounts, tying him across the saddle like a sack of grain. The outlaw groaned once, then went still again.
Reed lifted Sam’s chin, checking his pupils one more time. “All right. Let’s get him up.”
Sam tried to push himself to his feet on his own, but his legs wobbled and Reed caught him. Together, Reed and Rafe braced under Sam’s arms and heaved him onto his gelding. Sam sagged forward over the saddle horn, dazed but conscious.
Tessa climbed up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist to anchor him.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered.
Sam breathed out a low, slurred sound that might’ve been a laugh. “Good… ‘cause I don’t trust my seat worth a damn right now.”
Eli mounted with Pike’s help and kept close.
Pike swung into his own saddle and gathered the line of tethered horses behind him. “All right,” he said. “We’re movin’.”
Reed nodded once. “Home.”
Rafe took point. Reed rode beside Sam in case he slipped. Pike brought up the rear with Eli and the unconscious outlaw.
When they finally left the hollow behind, Tessa looked over her shoulder once—just long enough to see the crooked chimney fade into shadow.
She tightened her hold on Sam.
“Let’s go home,” she murmured.
He didn’t answer.
But his head rested against her shoulder, trusting her to keep him upright as they started the long journey back across the badlands.