“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I guess so. What happened?” Falcon asked, confused by what he was seeing and hearing.
“You’ve been shot.”
“Shot?”
Falcon put his hand to his head and felt a ridge running from front to back, just above his right ear. When he pulled his hand back, he saw blood on the tips of his fingers.
He looked at the blood for a second; then he saw the shotgun guard lying belly-down in the dirt.
“I see that I wasn’t the only one,” he said. “Road agents?”
Gentry nodded his head. “We was robbed,” he said. “When we stopped to rest the horses, they was hidin’ behind them rocks over there, and they opened up on us. They kilt Kerry right off the bat, and we thought they kilt you. They shot you in the head.”
Falcon chuckled. “Yeah, well, that’s where they made their mistake. Folks always did say I was hardheaded.” He looked around. “Where’s Yaakos Gan?”
“Who?” Gentry asked.
“That’s the Indian girl’s real name,” Timmy said. “Yaakos Gan.”
“Oh. They took her with them,” Gentry said.
“They took her? Why?”
“They were going to take me,” Jane said. “But that dear, sweet girl volunteered to go in my place. So they took her.”
“That still doesn’t explain why they took her,” MacCallister said.
“Fargo Ford said somethin’ about usin’ her as a hostage,” Gentry suggested.
“Fargo Ford? Wait a minute, isn’t he the one that tried to rob the express office back in Calabasas?”
“That’s him, all right.”
“How did he get out here? I thought he and his men were in jail.”
“Yeah, I thought so too, and I asked him about it. He said the sheriff let ’em go, but I don’t believe that for a moment. I believe they escaped.”
“I believe you are right.”
“We need to get going if we are going to make Oro Blanco by dark. Come on, Johnson, give me a hand with Kerry.”
Gentry climbed up onto the driver’s seat, then held his hands down while the drummer tried, unsuccessfully, to pick up Kerry.
“Here,” Falcon said, pushing Johnson aside. “I’ll do it.”
“Mr. MacCallister, be careful. You’ve got a bad head injury,” Jane said.
“Yes, well, it’s my head, not my hands,” Falcon said. He picked up Kerry and handed him up to Gentry, who was able to pull him the rest of the way up, then position him on top of the coach.
“Get on board, folks,” Gentry said. “The sooner we get going, the better.”
CHAPTER 8
Ponci held the Indian girl on the front of his saddle, pulling her back hard against him. As he did so, he felt himself growing aroused, and he reached a hand up to squeeze her breast.
“Please don’t,” Cloud Dancer said.
“Please don’t,” Ponci mimicked. He grabbed her breast again, and this time she slapped it away.
“Please don’t,” she said again.
“Ponci, leave her the hell alone,” Fargo said. “We ain’t got time for any of your foolishness.”
Slowly, so slowly that Cloud Dancer didn’t realize that he was doing it, Ponci stuck his hand in the slit of her dress. Going in under the dress, he reached up and put his hand on her inner thigh.
“Now, don’t tell me you don’t like that, girlie,” Ponci said.
Cloud Dancer said nothing, nor did she try and slap his hand away.
“Uh-huh, I thought you might like that. All you Indian women is nothin’ but whores anway,” he said.
Cloud Dancer reached down and gently rubbed Ponci’s arm. She leaned back into him.
“Damn!” Ponci said. “You little whore, you really are a’likin’ this, ain’t you?”
Suddenly, Cloud Dancer reached back and grabbed Ponci’s knife. Pulling it, she stabbed him in the leg, just below the knee.
“Oww!” Ponci shouted. “You bitch!” Ponci pushed her off his horse.
“What the hell is going on back there?” Fargo asked, twisting around in his saddle.
Cloud Dancer was very quick and athletic, so, instead of landing on her back, she landed on her feet with his
