her hands were tied together, and her ankles were tied to the stirrups. She was confused as to why and how she had gotten there.
Then she remembered hearing a shot, and seeing her horse’s head explode in front of her. How long ago was that?
She was able to lift her hands and found her watch, still pinned to the bodice of her dress. Pulling it out, she examined it. It was five minutes after eleven. It was ten o’clock when she left town to start back home, and it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes later when she was ambushed on the road.
How long had she been on this horse? She could not remember a thing beyond her horse being shot, but she must have been conscious. Unless the man in front of her put her on the horse while she was unconscious. She had no memory of any of that.
“Who are you?” she called to the rider. “Where are we going?”
The rider stopped, then looked back at her. “Oh, so you are not too high and mighty to talk to me now, are you? I’ve been trying to get you to say something for the last hour.”
“I-I don’t remember anything about the last hour,” Sally said. “Why am I tied up? What do you want with me?”
“Oh, I don’t want you for anything,” the rider said. “It’s your husband I want.”
“What is your name?”
“My name is Taggart. Jericho Taggart.”
“Why do you want my husband, Mr. Taggart?”
“Because he is worth five thousand dollars, dead or alive.”
“That’s ridiculous! My husband isn’t a wanted man. He is an outstanding, law-abiding citizen.”
“Someone wants him,” Taggart said. “And they are willing to pay five thousand dollars for him.”
“Well, if you want him, why have you taken me?”
“He will be coming for you, won’t he?”
“You better believe he will.”
“That’s what I’m counting on,” Taggart said.
Smoke was at the depot, waiting for Seven to be off-loaded from the stock car, when Sheriff Carson saw him.
“Smoke, welcome home!” Carson smiled broadly, extending his hand.
“Hello, Monte.” Smoke took the deputy U.S. marshal’s badge from his pocket, and handed it to the sheriff. “I won’t be needing this anymore.”
“I take it your quest came out to your satisfaction?”
“Let’s just say that Dinkins and his gang will rob no more banks, and shoot no more women.”
“Oh, that reminds me. Sally is in town.”
“To see the doctor? Is something wrong?”
“No, no, didn’t mean to cause you any worry. She is looking fine. She rode in herself. Told me she was doing a little shopping, and had never felt better.”
“Where is she now, do you know?”
“I don’t have any idea, to be honest. It’s been a little over an hour since I saw her,” Sheriff Carson said.
“Good. I hope she is still in town. We can ride home together.”
Mounting Seven, Smoke rode up and down the main street, looking for Sally’s horse. When he didn’t see it anywhere, he stepped into Amy’s Ladies’ Shop. He knew Sally never came to town without stopping there. Even if she didn’t buy anything, she would stop to visit with Amy.
“Hello, Smoke.”
“Hi, Amy. Have you seen Sally today?”
“She was in here about an hour ago, but she said she was going home next.”
“All right, thanks. I guess I’ll catch up with her there.”
Four miles out of town, Smoke saw several buzzards circling. In order to attract that many buzzards, he knew there had to be something dead, and bigger than a rabbit, or even a coyote. He urged Seven into a gallop and a moment later, saw a horse down.
It was Sally’s horse!
When he reached the horse, he jumped down from the saddle. Sally was nowhere to be seen, and his first thought was that she had walked on home. But the bag of her purchases was still attached to the saddle horn, and he knew she wouldn’t have left ... oh my God! What happened to the horse?
The horse’s head was laid open like a smashed watermelon. That was no accident!
As Smoke examined the dirt road around the horse, he saw footprints coming from the side of the road to the horse, then going back to the side of the road from the horse. The footprints were made by a man’s boot. He saw no sign of Sally.
