Maggie’s self-control, which she had been holding on to so tightly, finally slipped a little. “My God!” she cried. “What more do you want from me? Just give me back my family!”
“Not until Joshua Shade is free,” Garth said with the inevitability of a landslide. “And you’re wrong…there
Chapter 34
Time had no meaning to Ike Winslow now. Only two things existed for him—the incredible ache in his head and the will to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
And Caleb, too. His son was still real to him. He clutched Caleb to his chest, being careful not to drop him.
The boy had been fussy for a while after being awakened, but then he dozed off again with his head resting on Ike’s shoulder. Ike could feel him breathing. He drew strength from that. Caleb was all right, and to keep him that way, Ike had to keep going.
The pain in his head thudded with each step he took, but gradually it began to lessen. He started thinking more clearly, and he asked himself where the outlaws had gone.
More importantly, where was Maggie?
He knew her well enough to know that she would never desert them unless she was forced to. The outlaws must have taken her with them. But for what purpose? She couldn’t help them rescue Joshua Shade, could she?
Another possible answer lurked in the back of Ike’s head, but he refused to even think about it. If those bastards were going to molest her, they would have done it before now, he told himself.
Besides, the one called Garth seemed single-minded in his determination to free Shade from the law. If he had taken Maggie when the gang left, it would be because Garth thought she could help accomplish that goal, even though Ike couldn’t see how.
Once he thought that through, he felt a little better. Maggie had to be with the outlaws, which was bad, but it could have been worse. She was still alive and all right, he told himself, and after a while he began to believe it.
That helped him keep going, too.
His concentration on that goal kept him from hearing the hoofbeats at first. Then, suddenly, he became aware of them. A lot of horses were coming up behind him.
The gang? Why would they be behind him? They would have gone south when they abandoned him and Caleb, wouldn’t they?
Ike couldn’t figure it out, but after everything that had happened, he didn’t believe that whoever it was meant him any good. Before this terrible business with Joshua Shade’s gang, in a situation like this, he would have sought help from whoever he ran into.
Now, though, he tightened his grip on Caleb and launched himself into a stumbling run, trying to stay ahead of whoever was behind him.
If he had been able to think a little more logically at the moment, he would have known that he couldn’t outrun the riders who were closing in on him. Right now, though, he was just a creature of raw instinct, an animal in flight.
“Hey, LaFollette, there’s somebody up there! Somebody on foot!”
“Well, don’t just sit there. Go get him.”
Ike heard the voices and understood the words well enough to know that he and Caleb were in danger. He started to run faster, but he hadn’t gone very far before he heard the thud of hoofbeats right behind him. He twisted his head around to gaze behind him in terror, and that caused him to stumble as he saw the dark, looming figure of a man on horseback towering over him.
Ike cried out as he fell to his knees. He cradled Caleb against him, trying to protect the boy. Caleb woke up and cried, a thin wail that grated on Ike’s ears.
“Son of a bitch! It’s an hombre with a baby!”
More hoofbeats came up. Ike hunched over as he knelt there on the ground. Somebody said, “A baby?”
“Yeah. What do we do about this, LaFollette?”
“Get him on his feet,” a voice growled in command. “I don’t know what he’s doin’ out here, and I don’t like things I don’t know.”
Strong hands grasped Ike’s arms and hauled him upright. He yelled, “Let me go! Leave us alone!”
“Get the baby,” the man called LaFollette said, but when the others tried to pry Caleb out of Ike’s arms, Ike howled and thrashed around, bouncing off the men as they surrounded him.
Disgustedly, LaFollette said, “All right, all right, let him keep the kid.” He stepped up in front of Ike and went on in a loud voice. “Damn it, mister, listen to me. Settle down. We don’t mean you any harm.”
Gradually, Ike stopped fighting. Breathing heavily, he said, “Who…who are you men?”
“Never you mind about that,” LaFollette snapped. He had dismounted like the others. There was enough starlight for Ike to be able to see that he was a compactly built man in range clothes and with a dark, closely trimmed beard. LaFollette went on. “Who are you, and what are you doin’ wanderin’ around out here with a kid?”
“He…he’s my son. My name is Winslow…Ike Winslow.”
