He watched with grim satisfaction as Dalt lowered the woman off his horse. She was gagged and bound tight, both hands and feet. She must’ve made a nuisance of herself, and Dalt wasn’t one to put up with undue noise or fighting.
She was limp when he dismounted, but her head shook and she struggled against her bonds, so maybe Dalt had put her to sleep, or maybe she’d fallen asleep herself.
Dalt shoved her under the sagging trees and let her drop to the ground.
“Untie her.” Raddo noticed a line of claw marks on Dalt’s cheek. Yep, she’d been trouble.
Since Dalt was already leading his horse away, Meeks came up to obey the order. Raddo saw the deep creases in her arms and legs and his mood turned sour. “We need this woman in one piece. We need her to stand and walk and talk.”
Meeks paused in loosening the ropes to look over his shoulder to where Dalt had been. He was out of sight, picketing the horse in a hidden notch in the mountain. “Dalt has a mean streak.”
Nodding, Raddo said, “That suits me just fine most times. I got one myself and so do you. But if this woman’s ropes cut off her circulation too long, we might have a real hard time getting out of her what we need.”
Meeks had her untied now, and because they were a long way from any help and facing a bitter cold night, he had no doubt he could keep her under control without much trouble. Besides, where was she gonna run to?
“Take the gag off, too. Let her scream if she’s of a mind to. If her man is out huntin’ us near the trail that wagon train’ll go, then he’s far enough off he can’t hear her.”
“Gotta figure there are men back at the ranch Dalt stole her from who are huntin’,” Meeks said, loosening the gag.
The woman moaned. Her arms flopped to her sides as if they were numb and nearly dead. She gasped in pain as she forced her hands to rub her wrists. Her legs twitched enough that Raddo figured she still had some blood flowing. She’d be fine.
Dalt came back into the shelter in time to hear Meeks talking of being pursued. “The men from the ranch’ll come a-runnin’. There’s another woman and two little ones in the house. But I set a false trail. They’ll be riding the wrong way. She can scream all she wants.”
He went to his bedroll and dug out a tin cup and helped himself to the pot of coffee nestled at the edge of the fire.
A cruel smile curled Dalt’s lips. “She was a whole lotta trouble for me.” He rubbed the raw scratches on his face. “I let her get a hand loose when I was adjusting her ropes, and she took her shot. And then I took one. I’d as soon make her scream a little.”
Raddo watched as the woman sat up slowly. She studied each of their faces. Maybe checking to see if any of them had the look a merciful man might. Raddo knew his men. A more merciless lot had never gathered.
“We’re moving quiet from this step on,” Utah said to Adam.
With a nod, Adam slowed his horse.
Everything in him was driving him to hurry, but instead Utah was even more mindful of where his horse stepped so as not to crack more twigs than was necessary.
Then he came to an area blown clear along a long, flat stretch of rock. Not a track to be seen for a dozen yards. He knew which way he’d’ve gone just by common sense, in the direction of the trail that wagon train’d be on. But that was a careless way to track. This trail had been hidden by a knowing man, and after tracks left by a fast getaway, Utah had been slow in picking out the direction he’d ridden. There’d been more than one false trail left, too.
He held up a hand to stop Adam, then dismounted and tied his horse to a low branch. There was even a hardy clump or two of tall dried grass showing, so the horse could eat for a minute. Adam alit and did the same thing.
“Have a care on this trail.”
“How far ahead are they with her?” Adam’s voice had a note of panic to it, and Utah didn’t blame him—she’d been in those men’s clutches for a long time now. Too long. No woman would be safe under their power.
“The time is driving me loco too, Adam, but we’ve gotta be sure we’re going the right way.” Utah set to work. Adam watched for a long minute, then studied the trail on another side of the flat stretch of stone.
He should rest. Trace had tomorrow to hunt if his figuring was right. And it’d be better to study the trail in the full light.
The moon was about to rise when he finished one side of the trail. But instead of heading back, he slipped across the trail and climbed up to the other side of it. Wolf sniffed along with him and sometimes the critter vanished. Trace knew the dog could take better care of himself than Trace could, so he didn’t worry much. If there was any movement to be seen, Wolf would be back fast to warn him and fight beside him if need be.
Another stretch of hours passed, and Trace had a good picture in his head. In fact, if these outlaws were half smart—and he suspected they were more than half—then Trace knew of about ten places that were perfect for what they had in mind. The only ten places.
He looked down on the trail. He stood right above a wide grassy stretch. Along its whole length, there was no more likely spot for the wagon train to circle for the night. It was so obvious that he hoped the wagon master would be too savvy to pick it. But
