‘‘Tie him up.’’ Cheyenne let go of Jamie. ‘‘I’ll follow the others.’’ He grabbed his reins, when a single fact froze him in place.
The woman heading toward the well earlier had carried the bucket in her left hand!
TWENTY-FIVE
CHEYENNE TOOK THE STAIRS IN DOUBLE TIME WITH Jamie just behind him. They stormed into the attic bedroom as the first hint of daylight touched the horizon.
‘‘Where’s Kora?’’ Cheyenne asked Logan.
Jamie bumped into him from behind and swore at his sudden stop.
Logan stood from the chair by the bed. ‘‘She’s gone down to check on Dan. Almost forgot him, she did, with all that’s been going on.’’
Cheyenne turned and trudged down the stairs. The sick feeling he had in his gut grew worse.
‘‘What is it?’’ Jamie was right behind him. ‘‘What’s wrong?’’
‘‘I’ve got to find Kora!’’ He left unsaid what he feared.
They stopped at the kitchen first, then covered the downstairs. Cheyenne’s worry was contagious. Jamie ran up to the bedrooms on the second floor while Cheyenne checked the barn. By the time they reached the orchard, they were both yelling Kora’s name.
‘‘Where is she?’’ Jamie demanded. ‘‘She’s usually around the house. By dawn she’s always cooking breakfast. She couldn’t have disappeared. She wouldn’t have left us.’’
‘‘I don’t know about leaving you,’’ Cheyenne responded. ‘‘But she wouldn’t leave Winter any longer than needed. In the blackness just before sunup, I thought I saw you by the well, then you vanished.’’
Concern turned to panic in Jamie’s eyes. ‘‘I never walked toward the well. I stayed on the porch until I knew you were in place, then I walked toward the orchard. Do you think one of the two men who got away grabbed Kora?’’
‘‘No,’’ he answered. ‘‘They had no time. Besides, they rode out alone.’’
‘‘Well, if they didn’t take her, she must be somewhere around here.’’ Jamie kicked at her skirts.
‘‘Was Dan in bed?’’
‘‘No,’’ Jamie answered. ‘‘He’s probably started his walk by now.’’
Cheyenne rubbed his forehead, trying to get the pieces to fit after a long night of no sleep. ‘‘You look for him. I’ve got to talk to Winter. If the snakes didn’t kill him, Kora’s kidnapping might.’’
‘‘Kidnapping!’’ Jamie screamed as she followed him back into the house.
Win came awake inch by painful inch. His limbs throbbed, his stomach felt as if it were gnawing away at his backbone, and his head pounded war drums.
‘‘Kora,’’ he whispered as he rolled over and reached for her.
‘‘Win?’’ someone said. ‘‘Win, can you hear me?’’
Reluctantly he opened one eye. Kora was several feet away by the window. Cheyenne and Logan were on either side of his bed.
‘‘Water,’’ Win whispered, feeling as though he’d die if he didn’t have a drink soon.
Logan placed his hand on the back of Win’s head as Win downed several swallows before the old man pulled the cup away as if rationing.
Leaning back, Win let his gaze rest on Kora. She was looking out the window, her hair catching the morning sun. He opened and closed his fingers, wishing he could touch her. All through the night he’d been fighting his way to Kora, reaching for her, trying to hold her. But the wind kept whirling her around, blowing her away from him.
Logan offered him another drink.
This time Win closed his hand around the cup so it wouldn’t be pulled away.
The old man laughed. ‘‘He’s going to be fine. He’s fighting me for the water.’’
Slowly the room came into focus. It was late morning, maybe early afternoon. For some reason he was still in bed.
As Win’s mind cleared, he looked down at his arms, bandaged in several places. Without inspection he could feel bandages on his legs, also. ‘‘What happened?’’ he mumbled. ‘‘The last thing I remember I was pulling a cow out of the mud.’’
Winter closed his eyes. Memory came back in flashes, like stills flipping through a stereoscope. Three men offering help. The ropes. The snakes. The ride home. The
blackness.
Logan interrupted Win’s thoughts. ‘‘Three men brought you back snake bit.’’
‘‘I was-’’
‘‘We know,’’ Logan said. ‘‘It wasn’t an accident.’’
‘‘Kora.’’ Win tried not to let his frustration show that she hadn’t even bothered to turn from the window.
Slowly she twisted. It took a moment for Win to take in the woman before him. It wasn’t Kora, it was Jamie, and tears were streaming down her face.
‘‘I’m sorry, Win!’’ Jamie cried. ‘‘I wish it were me and not her.’’
‘‘Kora,’’ he whispered and let the black of sleep melt over him once more.
Logan looked across the bed at Cheyenne. ‘‘What do we do?’’
‘‘We save the ranch. If they’re planning to move the cattle tonight, we must have every hand in the saddle and well armed. Kora’s kidnappers will find us, we don’t have to go looking for them. I’m surprised we haven’t had word yet of the terms. Until we do, we think of the ranch.’’
‘‘No!’’ Jamie cried. ‘‘We save my sister.’’
Cheyenne shook his head. ‘‘The ranch has always been the most important thing in Win’s life. We have no idea where she is. We can’t have men everywhere looking for her. We’ve got to save the ranch.’’
‘‘But whoever has her might hurt her.’’
‘‘If infected cattle cross this land, thousands of head are going to die and that will hurt a lot of people. Win can bury his dead beef and burn the grassland and survive, but it will spread to the smaller ranches. It could mean their farms and ranches being bankrupted. Families having to move or going hungry.’’
Jamie ran to the stairs. ‘‘Then I’ll find her myself. She must be near crazy with fright by now. She’s always had me around, you know.’’
Cheyenne was a step behind her. He grabbed her by the arm. ‘‘You don’t understand. Someone has to stay here and guard the ranch, look after Winter. At least until the doc gets here.’’
Jamie jerked free of his grasp. ‘‘No,
• • •
Kora sat at the table, trying not to breathe. The smell of dirt was so thick in the air she could almost feel it coating her lungs each time she inhaled. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture her bedroom with Win, the clean air, the sunlight, the warmth of his arms about her.
Andrew Adams rattled around the kitchen area, tossing empty cans aside that he hadn’t bothered to throw out.
She knew she should probably be afraid of him, but all she felt was angry and irritated. ‘‘Untie me!’’ she demanded.
‘‘Shut up!’’ Andrew Adams yelled back. ‘‘I have to think.’’ He pulled a bottle from the empty flour can.
They’d been in the tiny dugout for a long while. She wasn’t sure of the time. He’d tied her hands and gagged her before tossing her in the wagon loaded down with hay and old blankets. As soon as he’d gotten her to the dugout, he’d sat her in the only unbroken chair. She guessed that he’d never thought of the kidnapping succeeding, for he seemed to have no plan of what to do with her now that she was here in his home.
‘‘Let me go,’’ she tried for the hundreth time. ‘‘You’ll only get in trouble with the law for kidnapping. If you let
