The Vigilante's Bride (17 page)

Emily spun around at the shots. Luke grabbed her, jerked her to the ground, then crawled to the edge of the cliff and looked over. Through the back of the wagon, he saw the stranger tearing open boxes, dumping out bags of flour and cornmeal. On his stomach, Luke inched backward to Emily.

“I’m going down. He just shot Jupiter.” His face was hard, his lips a thin white line.

She grabbed his arm, panic exploding in her mind. “Don’t go, please don’t go.” From his expression, he intended to even the score.

He shook her hand off. “If I tell you to cover me, do you know what I mean?” His eyes bored into hers.

She nodded. “You want me to shoot anybody shooting at you, but I don’t want you to go.”

“I have to. If he doesn’t find what he came for, he’ll come after us.”

Luke thumbed a handful of bullets out of his gun belt and slipped them into her shirt pocket, then pulled one of the Colts from its holster and handed it to her. He pointed to a shelf of rock jutting over the edge. “Lie flat on that and wait till I get down there. When I start running toward the wagon, you start shooting at the back of it and keep shooting. Understand?”

She bit her lips to stop them from trembling.

“Don’t worry. You won’t hit him. You’re too far away, but I’m hoping he won’t realize that. Just keep him pinned down until I get close enough to get him.”

She took a deep breath, held it a moment, then let it out. Gun in hand, she started crawling out on the piece of rimrock.

“Emily?” When she turned, he said, “Remember to cock the hammer back each time.”

She gave a little spastic nod and continued working her way out onto the jutting piece of rock.

“Emily?”

She looked back over her shoulder again.

“Please don’t shoot
me
.”

On her stomach, Emily elbowed herself forward and peered over the edge. Luke had pulled their wagon well off the road into a wide meadow with a tiny brook and a steep-sided butte. A small plateau topped the butte and overlooked the clearing a hundred feet below. Yellow sandstone boulders from an old rockfall lay at the base of the cliff, and a grove of young cottonwoods grew in the clearing beyond.

She scanned the clearing. Those trees in the clearing weren’t big enough to hide her, let alone someone the size of Luke. With no cover he’d be out in the open, an easy target for someone with a rifle. Then, in a flash of understanding, she knew why he’d stationed her up there – to protect her. She squinted at the big Colt pistol clutched in her right hand. It was all she had to help him.

She took in every detail of the clearing, the rock pile, the wagon, the horses, memorizing where things were. If Luke got into trouble, he’d need her help.

She sucked in a deep breath. Who was she kidding? He already
was
in trouble. She shoved herself backward to the steep little path she’d come up on, a narrow strip of dirt, no wider than a rabbit run. Shoulders hunched, she started down, sliding some of the way on her backside. At the bottom she crawled through the underbrush up to the rock pile at the foot of the cliff. Slowly, she eased the bushes apart and peeked out.

The wagon was twenty or thirty feet away, its long green side almost right in front of her. She wiped her sweaty palms down her thighs and mentally positioned Luke and herself. If the gunman was at twelve o’clock, she and Luke were at eight and four.

Her mouth went dry. She was closer to the gunman than Luke was. She took a deep breath and stared at the gun in her hand. The gunman inside the wagon was tossing cutlery and metal plates around.

She stretched out on her stomach under a thick, droopy bush and waited. The instant Luke broke into the open, she’d begin firing to hold the gunman off. She stiffened.

Luke eased himself out from behind a boulder.

There he goes!

She thumbed the hammer back as Luke bolted across the clearing. Zigzagging, he headed for the wagon.

The spotted horse saw him and whinnied. A rifle barrel poked through the curtains in the back of the wagon and pointed at Luke.

Emily aimed at the curtain and squeezed the trigger.

BANG!

The Colt jumped in her hand. Her mouth fell open when the side of the wagon splintered. She
did
it! The rifle barrel jerked back inside.

Luke fired three more shots into the wagon. Emily joined in, holding the gun steady and whispering to herself, “Cock the hammer – fire. Cock the hammer – fire.”

The gunman leaped out the front of the wagon and squatted behind the wheel. Luke got off a shot that nicked the edge of the wheel.

Emily shot again. This time, the gunman snapped his rifle around and fired back in her direction.

SPANG!

The slug struck a big rock alongside her and sent chips flying. Startled, she gave an angry huff and crawled away. Her fear faded, replaced with determination. Up on her knees, she held the Colt in a two-handed grip and fired twice more. One bullet went through the wagon and out the front; the other ripped through the canvas top and ricocheted, clanging the iron pots inside.

Luke fired almost at once from the other direction, the shots so close together it sounded like a small battle. The gunman hunched toward his horse. He yelled something unintelligible, threw himself into the saddle, and kicked the horse into a leaping gallop for the road.

Emily scrambled to her feet and tore out of the bushes after him. Reloading on the run, she and Luke chased the rider, firing until they heard the frantic, fruitless clicks of their empty guns.

Luke swept up his hat, which had fallen off in the run. Looking at her, he brushed the dust off. “Why didn’t you stay up there where I told you? You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he said, his lips barely moving with the words.

Her chin shot up. “And so could you. There was no way you could dodge across that clearing and not get shot. You needed help down here, not up there.”

He dropped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her. “You’re right. Didn’t mean to snap at you, but you scared me to death. Coming in close like that and both of us shooting is what drove him off. You probably saved our lives.”

That night Emily held the lantern while Luke dug Jupiter’s grave. Driving the shovel in savagely, his dark shadow swept over her as he attacked the ground, wrenching out the earth, propelled by sorrow and grief and anger. When he finished, he leaned on the shovel for a moment, rib cage heaving. His face, when he climbed out of the grave, frightened her.

“I loved this old man,” he said, wrapping Jupiter tenderly in a blanket. Together they lowered him into the hole and covered him over with dirt. Luke placed three heavy stones to mark the grave, then stood silently, hat in his hands, his head bowed.

Shoulders sagging, he turned to her. “That’s the best we can do for now. We’ll talk to Sheriff Tucker and bring him back here. Jupiter’s family will want a proper burial.”

“You were praying back there, weren’t you?” she said quietly.

A mixture of surprise and embarrassment flitted across his face. “I didn’t realize it. I guess I was.” Not looking at her, he led her away from the gravesite.

“No one knew we were going to Billings, so it must have been a robber, someone looking for travelers on their way to Billings,” she said.

Luke took her hand. Winding his fingers through hers, he shook his head. “I’m afraid he was hunting us. The horse belongs to Axel’s new hired gun, Haldane. He wanted something, and the only thing we’ve got that Axel would want is the deed. I’m afraid Haldane found it.”

“No, he didn’t. I put it in a safe place.” From under her shirt she withdrew a large piece of heavy tan paper and held it out to him.

Puzzled, he frowned at the deed in his hand. “Why did you put it there?”

“To flatten my front after your remark in the wagon about bustlines.”

The corners of his mouth dug in. “Guess I’ll have to watch everything I say to you. In a way, it was kind of a compliment.”

She met his gaze directly. “I didn’t think so.”

“Then you know nothing about men.”

In case Haldane returned after dark, they dragged their bedrolls up the cliff and spread them out under an overhanging tree away from the edge.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m going to watch for a while.” He sat and leaned against the trunk, the Colt within easy reach.

In minutes he heard her squirming. She rolled over and sighed, evidently trying to find a soft spot. He barely noticed how hard the ground was. In ten years of trail-bossing and chasing cows, he’d probably slept on the ground more than in a bed. Came natural now. But not to this soft-skinned little teacher.

Holding the Colt, he sat motionless, listening. A low overcast moved in and hid the stars. Night stretched. Shadows deepened. The silence was profound.

His throat ached with the hurt of losing Jupiter. Raw anger welled up again. Mentally, he ticked off ways to get even with Axel, then shook his head hard, as if to clear it. In Lewistown, perhaps, but not here. He lived at New Hope now, and so did Emily, which meant there could be only one way: the law.

An owl ghosted in, feathered wings sweeping soundlessly. It landed in the branches overhead and went into its nightly routine. The ominous snarls and whistles sent Emily crawling for Luke, fast. Her knee rammed his leg in the dark, and she sprawled across him. He hauled her up and sat her beside him.

She shuddered. “What
is
that?”

“An owl.” He smiled in the dark.

“I thought it was a wildcat.” Her confident little teacher’s voice cracked.

“It’s all right, City Girl,” he said, and covered her hand with his.

He heard her swallow. “I’m not upset anymore. I don’t know how to thank you. You saved my life today.”

“And you saved mine, so we’re even.”

“I think I’m all right now.”

“Well, I’m not.” Luke pried her twisted hands apart and wound his fingers through hers. She gripped his hand in response.

Guilt tightened his chest. So much had happened to her today. She’d seen things, done things that no woman ought to. She needed someone now, needed the closeness and comfort of another human being. He puffed his cheeks and let out a quiet breath. And so did she.