When The Heart Beckons Read online

  The kid has guts—McCallum guts, Cade thought admiringly, and then he forced himself to think of nothing but the man staring at him with such utter hatred and desperation in his eyes.

  “I’m sure we can settle this peaceable,” Cade said mockingly, his stance deceptively nonchalant. “Just apologize to Conchita and Adelaide, and the rest of my friends, and we’ll let bygones be bygones.”

  “I’m not apologizing for anything! You people are the ones who’ve barged in here and disrupted a festive gathering of neighbors. I’ve asked you to leave, and if you don’t, I’ll have no choice but to throw you off.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Sweat glistened on Lowry’s ruddy brow. “You think I can’t? You think I’m scared of your name, your reputation, Steele? Well, think again.” His hard laughter echoed around the terrace. People stepped even farther away from him. And at the same moment a closer rumble of thunder boomed across the sky. “I’m not afraid of any man and that includes you. So I’m calling you out, Steele, here and now. And when you’re dead, me and my boys will run the rest of your friends off my land and clear out of this valley for good.”

  Cade had gone still as stone, but now a faint mocking smile curled the corners of his lips. He didn’t have to say anything; that contemptuous smile said it all. It goaded Lowry more than words, for everyone who saw that look of utter confidence and scorn gasped and held their breath.

  “Damn you!” Lowry shouted and suddenly his gun was in his hand.

  The black and golden night exploded with gunfire, screams, and blood.

  Chapter 23

  Brilliant amber lightning sliced the sky as Red Cobb at last halted his horse on a sharp ledge that jutted over a narrow canyon gorge. The thunder seemed to boom from the very rocks as he untied the rope that bound Annabel to the pommel and dragged her to the ground.

  “We won’t mind the storm one little bit, honey. You and me will be snug and dry as a couple of barn mice. Look.”

  And as he dragged her forward toward the rocks, she saw what she hadn’t seen at first—a cave, hidden amidst huge tumbling boulders, almost invisible if you didn’t know what to look for.

  Cobb pushed her ahead of him and led his horse through the opening. “Keep going,” he growled. “It’s plenty big. We can even make a fire.”

  I can hardly wait, Annabel thought as she stumbled ahead of him in the pitch darkness. A match scraped against tinder and then pale light illuminated rough rock walls. There was just room enough for Cobb to stand without brushing his head against the roof.

  He tethered the horse to a boulder near the mouth of the cave, swung his saddle pack over his shoulder, and pushed Annabel forward, deeper into the shadowy recesses. She heard rain begin to pound outside. Fear clawed at her.

  She couldn’t hope to escape during a thunderstorm.

  Then I’ll just have to stall him—somehow, she thought, fighting to keep panic from overtaking her. You’re smarter than he is. And more desperate. That makes you more dangerous.

  But she wished with all her might that she was safe with Cade somewhere, anywhere. In his cabin, she thought on a breath of longing. That cozy little cabin in that magnificent gemlike valley. But then Red Cobb shoved her and she fell into the wall, and the lovely image was shattered.

  “Sit down and don’t cause me any trouble,” he warned, as he dropped a match onto a small heap of twigs piled on the cave floor. Golden light caught, spiraling up and outward. “If you try to get away, things’ll go worse for you.”

  Annabel realized something as she stared at the orange-gold flames. He had been here before and used this cave, and had planned to come back, planned to bring her here. That was why the convenient pile of twigs was left here, all ready for their return.

  She swallowed with great difficulty. The horrid gag was still in her mouth. Reaching up, she yanked it from her lips, and let it fall around her neck, even though her wrists were still bound together. As she glared at him defiantly, Cobb regarded her in amusement.

  “Think you’re pretty brave, don’t you? Well, it won’t do you any good up here. No one’s going to be impressed, least of all me. Now sit down before I knock you down.”

  Suddenly he towered over her, and Annabel knew he would carry out his threat. She sat on the cold floor of the cave, shivering in her thin gown, and avoided looking at him as he built up the fire, then riffled through his pack and began to chew on a piece of jerky. “Want some?”

  She shook her head. “But I would appreciate it if you’d untie me. The rope is cutting into my wrists.”

  “Ain’t that too bad.” He removed a whiskey flask from his pack and took a deep, satisfying swig. “Want some of this, honey? It’ll help settle your nerves.”

  The only thing that will help settle my nerves is seeing you dead—preferably at the bottom of that canyon out there, she thought, but she kept her face schooled into an expression of calmness, and merely shook her head.

  “I’m fine ... except for this rope.”

  He studied her as he tilted the bottle to his mouth again. Then he shrugged. “Hell, why not? A teensy thing like you can’t do too much damage, can you?”

  He pulled a knife from his boot and sliced the rope.

  “Thank you,” Annabel murmured, her eyes downcast. She was thinking hard and fast, trying to figure out a way she could get her hands on his gun. Distractedly, she rubbed at her numb, bleeding wrists as Cobb sat back down, stuffed the rest of the jerky in his mouth, and followed it with another deep swill of whiskey.

  That’s it. Keep drinking, she thought. Drink it all up. An idea was taking form in her brain. If he passed out, she could steal his gun and his horse and get away. Or at the very least, she could hit him over the head with a rock or something while he was passed out, then tie him up with whatever rope was still stored with his gear. And then take the horse and get away.

  Lots of possibilities, she thought. And all of them dangerous. But one of them would have to work.

  “You know I’m going to have to kill you,” he said matter-of-factly, setting the bottle down and studying her from beneath the brim of his hat. “When I’m finished with you, that is. Can’t have a nosey little private investigator roaming around, causing trouble. Besides, honey, you deserve it. You never should have gotten involved in men’s business, and you sure never should have tried to pull a fast one over on Red Cobb.”

  Dread squeezed the air from her lungs. Don’t let him distract you or scare you, That’s what he wants. He wants you too weak and frightened to do anything—too terrified to fight back.

  “I’m sorry,” she managed to say with far more steadiness than she felt. “I was only trying to do my job. I’ve heard how good you are with a gun, and I wanted to protect my client.”

  “That was your first mistake, honey. There’s nothing that can protect Brett McCallum from me.”

  “Why?”

  “Huh?”

  “Why are you so bent on killing him?” Annabel knew the answer to this, but she had to keep him talking. She waited as he took another long swallow of the whiskey and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Outside, she could hear the wind shrieking, the rain drumming against the ancient rock. And thunder roared as steadily as cannon fire during a fierce and relentless battle. But at that moment she would rather have braved the storm naked than faced the terrifyingly unemotional brutality of Red Cobb.

  “Why do you think?” he sneered.

  “Money. I think someone hired you.” She saw the drunken glint in his blue eyes as he nodded.

  “Course. Why else? Fact is, I’m being well paid to rid the world—and my client—of Master Brett McCallum.”

  “And is your client a man by the name of Lucas Johnson?” she asked softly.

  Cobb stared at her. “How’d you know ...” Suddenly a smirk crossed his face. “It might be one of his names.”

  “So he uses more than one name? Is Frank Boxer another one?”

  “Lady, you ask way too many questions. I thi
nk I need to shut you up.”

  He shambled to his feet and came toward her. Annabel scrambled up, determined at least to meet him on her feet.

  “I don’t mean anything by it,” she said quickly, backing up until she could go no farther. The rough wall of the cave pressed against her spine. “But I am curious. You’ve been so relentless, and so clever. Obviously this man who hired you—whatever his name is—knew that he was hiring the best when he picked Red Cobb.”

  “Damn right I’m the best.” He stopped right before her and grabbed her arms so suddenly that she gasped. Cobb chuckled. “Some people think Steele is faster than me. How about you?”

  “I ... don’t know ...”

  “You wish he was here right now, don’t you? Think he could save you, eh?” Cobb shook her hard. Annabel tried in vain to wrench her arms free, but couldn’t. Cobb shook her harder until she was breathless and dizzy.

  “Don’t you?” he lashed out, his voice thick with cruelty.

  “Yes!”

  He stopped the shaking, but held on to her, his fingers biting into her flesh every bit as painfully as the rope had earlier. “Well, he couldn’t help you if he was here. I’m faster than him and a better shot than him and I’m going to prove it. Soon as I’m finished with you and I’ve thrown your body down into the bottom of that canyon out there, I’m going back—to kill McCallum and then Steele—or maybe the other way around,” he shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. But there’s something you should know. I’m going to tell Steele exactly what I did to you right before I kill him.” His smile widened, stretching taut across his handsome, square-jawed face. “I want him to know.”

  “You ... bastard.” Trembling rage overcame her. “You’ll never kill him. He’s quicker than you, and surer. You’re the one who’s going to die, you stupid arrogant fool.”

  The half-drunken gloating faded from Cobb’s face. His eyes took on a terrifying icy glitter that turned them the light blue of a distant star. “You’re going to be real sorry for that, honey, just like for everything else,” he said, his breath coming heavy in his throat. “You got a hankering for Steele, don’t you? I saw the two of you up there in that bedroom window. And I saw you ride out of Silver Junction together the morning after you lied to me about McCallum’s whereabouts. But that’s not enough for you, you two-bit whore. You’ve got a hankering for McCallum, too. I saw you kissing him out there near Lowry’s corrals. You’re a randy little thing, aren’t you? Well, I deserve my turn. That’s why I’ve been waiting, following you, and waiting. Because I wanted to get my hands on you first, and then go after Steele and McCallum. So’s I can tell them both what I did to their cheap little light-skirt detective. So I can kill them both knowing that I’ve bested them in every way. It’ll sure be sweet.”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  “And you’re a dead woman.”

  Laughing, he reached for her, and squashed his lips against hers. Annabel fought against him, frantic to get away, but he was too strong, and the stench of liquor and days-old sweat nearly overpowered her as much as his heavy body when he crushed her against the wall.

  Her nails raked his face. He swore, lifted his head, and slapped her. “So you like it rough, do you, you little bitch?”

  “Get away!”

  “Honey, we’re only getting started.”

  He yanked her close again and this time plunged his mouth against her throat, sucking, while at the same time his hand groped at her breast. He grabbed it and squeezed so hard Annabel shrieked in pain and terror.

  Then out of pure instinct she rammed her knee up into his groin. Cobb screamed. For just a moment he loosened his hold on her, and it was enough. She darted around him and past the campfire. In her haste she kicked a stray log lying near the edge of the fire, sending it skittering out of the circle of flames. One end was burning brightly and suddenly she had an idea. She grabbed the other end of the log, and as Cobb, still bent over, started toward her, she threw it straight at him.

  He couldn’t dodge in time. The fiery log hit him full in the shoulder and a spark flew up and caught in his hair. Suddenly he was on fire, screeching and yelling, and Annabel ran toward the mouth of the cave. There was no time to untether the horse, no time to do anything but plunge out into the ferocious rage of the storm, into a roaring night of black sky and gold lightning, of wind and wet, and she fled headlong through the rain-slashed madness.

  She kept close to the cave wall, brushing against the rocks as she ran, terrified of that chasm just beyond, of losing her bearings and hurtling over the rim of the canyon to a gruesome death far below. Rain whipped her hair and streamed down her cheeks and sodden gown, and the wind whistled through her ears until she thought she’d go mad, but she kept going, half-running, half-stumbling on a path that led she knew not where. But it was leading her away from Red Cobb and that was all that mattered right now. She peered anxiously behind her, straining to see through the sheets of rain, fearful he would grab her suddenly from behind.

  She couldn’t see him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. She couldn’t see anything but a blur of gray rain and black night and hot-gold lightning which flashed briefly, setting the mountain peaks aglow.

  Terror tore at her more painfully than the rocks and branches that clawed her face and hands and gown. He could be right behind you. He could grab you at any moment, a frantic voice inside her shouted.

  These fears kept her going, despite her fatigue and her blindness and the elements that battled at her as she tried to slip away like a lost wild creature into the night.

  Suddenly, the trail dipped with unexpected sharpness, her foot slipped on wet rock, she tumbled forward ... and down ... and down ...

  Air rushed past her, cold and bitter as death, and her hands grabbed for rocks and touched nothingness. Her mouth opened to scream but no sound came out as she fell and fell and fell....

  * * *

  Rain slashed at Cobb’s nose and cheeks and eyes as he glared up and down the muddy scrub trail outside the cave. He was in a black drunken rage, cursing the fury of the night and the woman who had disappeared like a witch into the storm. A string of oaths poured from him—he wanted to shoot something, anything, and he pulled his gun and fired furiously at the waving trees and the sky. Damn her to hell. His singed hair and the burn he’d gotten on his temple and shoulder before he’d put out the flames were vivid reminders of her. She’d left her mark on him, and he would leave his on her. Oh, yes, he surely would.

  In the morning. The moment the storm broke he’d be after her. She wouldn’t get far, Cobb concluded with satisfaction as he holstered his gun and stamped back inside the cave. He pushed his dripping red hair from his eyes. Let her get good and soaked. Let her freeze all night. Then she’ll collapse. She’ll be too weak and tired and hungry to move, and then I’ll get her. Damn her pretty eyes, get her good.

  He stomped back to the campfire, peeled off his wet clothes, and donned dry ones from his pack. Then he settled down with his saddle blanket and his whiskey to wait for his revenge.

  Chapter 24

  Annabel came to slowly, with the hazy dizziness of someone who’s been thrown from a horse and doesn’t quite remember when or how. The rain slamming against her cheeks and temples struck her like tiny pellets, and her bones were icy cold against the hard wet ground.

  She tried to move, tried to lift her head, and felt an aching pain along her side. Thunder crashed in her ears.

  She peered around, dazed, trying to make out where she was, where she could hide, what had happened.

  Through a mist of confusion she realized she was on a ledge, a ledge jutting out from a rocky path, and saw that she must have fallen onto an outcrop of rock right beneath the trail she’d been on before.

  So I didn’t fall down a chasm, just down to the ledge beneath. And by some miracle, she wasn’t dead, or even hurt, at least not badly.

  But she felt dazed with cold and fear and she was tired. So dreadfully tired. Move, sh
e thought dully, keep moving. He’ll find you if you stay here.

  But she didn’t know where to go, and her limbs wouldn’t obey her frantic commands.

  “Help me,” she whispered into the night, her words drowned out by the tearing fury of the wind. “Someone ... help me.”

  With supreme will, she began to crawl, inching forward, turning her head from side to side as the rain poured down. She was shivering uncontrollably from head to toe and knew only that she had to find shelter or she would freeze to death, or drown.

  Or Red Cobb would find her and that would be worse than death.

  She crawled on.

  Suddenly, she thought she saw something, a glimmer against the blur of black rocks. A woman.

  “Mama ?”

  Somehow she found the strength to stagger to her feet, her eyes fixed dazedly on that lovely silver vision that seemed to shimmer between the raindrops. “Mama, will you help me?”

  The slim figure twinkled and twirled just ahead. Then it vanished.

  “Mama!”

  She half ran toward where she’d seen it, and suddenly, she saw a low opening. A cave, another cave! This one she had to stoop to enter, and as she did so she wondered for a fleeting moment if some wild creature might be inside, also seeking shelter from the storm. But Mama wouldn’t lead her to danger. Mama had shown her the way.

  “Where are you, Mama?” she asked as she crept inside and then the ceiling rose overhead and she stood and saw that the cave was half the size of the other cave, but it was dry and empty and sheltered and she stumbled in and sank down to the ground, clutching her arms around her shivering body. She felt a gossamer touch upon her cheek and suddenly the cold was gone. She was warm, and peaceful. She closed her eyes, and felt herself sinking, sinking away into cottony blackness that was as soft and warm as a haystack.