Rustled Page 9

  “Because she called me. She’s worried about you. She thinks you work too hard. She wants us to come out for supper tomorrow. She also wonders when we’re going to have a baby.”

  McCall quirked a brow. “She wonders?”

  “She’s also worried that you might not be around tomorrow for supper,” he said, his gaze locked with hers.

  McCall laughed and leaned in to kiss her husband. “Well, you can tell Grandmother or anyone else who’s wondering that we’ll be there tomorrow night.”

  He looked skeptical.

  “And you can tell whoever else is interested that I think we should have a baby.”

  “Don’t fool with me, McCall Winchester Craw ford.”

  She chuckled. “Let’s make a baby tonight.”

  He broke into a huge smile and pulled her to him, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.

  McCall was a little surprised at how worried he was. They were both in law enforcement, Luke a game warden trained just like she had been when it came to criminals. Often they ended up working together because of the shortage of law enforcement in this part of Montana.

  He knew what her job entailed. It was strange that this case in particular had him so worried. Or did it have more to do with him wanting to have a baby?

  Either way, it made her more anxious than she wanted to admit. If Aggie Wells was alive, then there was a good chance she had come unhinged. Those were the scariest criminals to confront and apprehend because you never knew what they would do.

  McCall knew that was what had her husband worried. He didn’t like the idea of her alone in an empty ranch house with a crazy woman. McCall wasn’t that excited about it either.

  “Ask my grandmother if there is anything I can bring for supper tomorrow night,” she said later, trying to reassure them both as she gave him a conspiratorial wink. “By then with any luck, I’ll already be pregnant.”

  EMMA THOUGHT FRANTICALLY about what she could say in the letter to let her stepsons know that she was being held captive by Aggie Wells.

  But with Aggie watching over her shoulder with a gun pointed at her, there was little chance of sending a message.

  “Tell them to leave you alone, that marrying Hoyt was a mistake and that you don’t intend to ever see them again,” Aggie ordered.

  Emma felt her eyes tear at the thought that she might not see her stepsons again, or Hoyt for that matter. Her heart broke at the thought. She couldn’t bear to think that he might believe the words in the letter. Wouldn’t he know it was a lie? Didn’t he realize how much she loved him?

  But she wouldn’t be the first wife he believed had left him and, given his terrible luck with wives…or as one local called it, the Chisholm Curse, he might believe the words in the letter, and so might her stepsons.

  It was actually the Aggie Wells curse, Emma thought as she wrote what the woman dictated. Aggie might deny that she was behind Hoyt’s bad luck with wives since the first one had accidentally drowned, but Emma didn’t believe it.

  “There,” she said as she finished.

  “Sign it, Emma. Nothing more.”

  She did and handed the paper to Aggie.

  “The pen, too.”

  Emma gave her an impatient look. “Did you think I was going to use the pen to break out of here? Or maybe carve it into a shank to use as a weapon?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Aggie said as she took it. “You must be getting tired of sandwiches, but that’s all we’re going to have to eat for a while.”

  “Aggie, how long are we going to do this?”

  The woman had stopped at the door. She had the pen and paper in one gloved hand, the gun in the other. “Do what?”

  “Stay here like this?”

  “As long as it takes,” Aggie said and stepped out, locking the door behind her.

  IT WAS ALONG SLOW RIDE to the next corral. The sun made a wide arc through the big Montana sky and had finally dropped over the horizon to the west, leaving streaks of color through the pines.

  Farther to the north, though, a bank of dark clouds hunkered on the horizon in what could amount to a thunderstorm before the day was over.

  Dawson hadn’t said a word since they’d left the cabin. The only sound was the bawling of the calves and the occasional cry of a hawk in the sky over the towering pines as dusk settled in around them.

  Jinx was sorry she’d told him that making love with him had been a mistake, but she figured he realized that now. It had been too intimate and she suspected it had left them both feeling vulnerable. They were vulnerable enough with a band of rustlers on the loose.

  She wasn’t sure Dawson realized how dangerous these men were, but she knew firsthand. The thought of her father lying in the dirt— She felt tears burn her eyes and quickly wiped them away. First she would take down the head of the rustling ring and the rustlers, then she would deal with her loss and let herself grieve.

  Going after the rustlers and their leader had been the only way she could cope. She knew it wouldn’t bring her father back, that it was dangerous, even stupid, but at least it was something she could do. Getting justice wouldn’t fill the hole her father’s death had left inside her. But it would maybe give her a little peace.

  Ahead, she recognized a rocky bluff that sat high above a section of abandoned ranch. The calves had smelled water and were now bursting through the trees and into the open to get to it.

  They both had reined in as they spotted the corral. It was empty.

  For a moment neither of them moved as if taking this in and what it meant. Rafe and the others had moved the cattle out already. Or had never stopped here to start with.

  “What the hell?” Dawson said, glancing over at her before he spurred his horse and rode down to the ranch. What was left of a small old cabin stood against a hillside. In front of it sat a cobbled rock wishing well. A frayed piece of rope hung from the well cover.

  Jinx watched it move restlessly in the breeze as she tried to imagine the family who had lived here rather than think about Rafe. The ground was trampled from where the cows had been driven away. Rafe was more than suspicious of her. He was running scared.

  Dawson had reined in his horse at the edge of the empty corral. Past him the land stretched out into the rolling prairie and the dark horizon. From here on out, there would be no trees or mountains to hide in. Unless they traveled at night, they would be in open country—country where someone could see them coming for miles.

  As she looked across it, Jinx thought she saw dust rising on the horizon. The cattle herd? They’d never be able to catch it unless they left the calves here and rode hard. Then what?

  Suddenly it seemed too quiet even with the bawling calves. Jinx felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. “Dawson!”

  But before she could warn him, the sound of a rifle shot filled the air.

  Chapter Nine

  As Jinx raced down into the ranch yard, she saw Dawson flinch at the crack of the rifle. He reached for his own rifle but even as he did, she knew he was hit. A dark crimson splotch bloomed on his left shoulder.

  “Get down!” he yelled as he dived from his horse.

  Jinx felt as if everything was moving too fast. She bailed off her horse, diving behind the crumbling rock of the old well as another shot rang out. She couldn’t see Dawson, could hardly hear with her heart in her throat and her pulse a war drum.

  Another shot, then another. She and Dawson should have expected an ambush, been ready for it. But the ranch yard had seemed so deserted with the cattle gone.

  She blamed herself. She knew Rafe had been leery of letting her ride with them from the first. When he hadn’t been able to find her, he’d left someone to make sure she didn’t turn up—just as Dawson had said.

  She thought of her father. She’d been so hell-bent on vengeance, but Dawson was right. Her father wouldn’t have wanted this.

  “Let God settle the debt in his own time,” her father used to say. “Don’t think he isn’t
keeping track.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and her chest ached with regret and grief. If she’d gotten Dawson killed…

  Suddenly she was aware of the eerie quiet again. Not a breath of air moved. She could see the calves down at the creek but they, too, had fallen silent. Somewhere in the distance she heard the song of a meadowlark, then everything fell silent again.

  Jinx stayed down, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. If only Dawson had given her back her gun.

  She heard the crunch of a boot sole on the dirt, then another. She looked around for anything she could use as a weapon. There was nothing.

  A shadow fell over her. With dread, she looked up to see Rafe standing above her, his gun barrel pointed at her head.

  OVER HOMEMADE TAMALES, beans and rice, Alonzo told Zane about Emma.

  “I was the one who found her,” he said proudly.

  “Found her?”

  He nodded. “It was the middle of the night. I’d been down to the bar at the Salton Sea marina and was coming home. It is a miracle that I saw her.” He crossed himself. “La voluntad de Dios. It was truly God’s will,” he translated. “I was driving along and boom! I blew a tire.”

  Zane was wondering when he was going to get to Emma. So far he couldn’t imagine what about a night of drinking, then a flat tire, could be a miracle or had to do with Emma.

  “I get out of my truck and realize my spare tire is flat,” Alonzo said. “I was thinking what a terrible night it had been.” He leaned toward Zane confidentially. “You see, I knew that when I got home Maria was going to be very upset with me. Maria was my wife of fifty-five wonderful years.” He crossed himself again and said what Zane took to be a silent prayer.

  “Emma,” Zane reminded the man.

  Alonzo laughed and passed him more tamales. Clearly this was a story he had told many times and with obvious relish.

  “So I leave the truck and start to walk and all of a sudden—” his dark eyes lit up and a huge smile formed in his wrinkled face “—I heard what sounded like a kitten. The closer I got, though, I realized it was a baby cooing softly.”

  “Emma?” Zane said, with apparently enough surprise to please Alonzo.

  The man clapped his hands. “Someone had left her beside the road wrapped in a dirty towel.” He shook his head in disbelief even after all these years.

  Zane was still in shock. “What did you do with her?”

  “I brought her home, what else? I am no fool.” He chuckled and gave his guest a wink. “I knew this little bundle of joy would keep Maria from being so upset with me.”

  “You raised her as your own?”

  “We had always wanted children,” he said with a shrug. “This one came from God. Try to explain that to Social Services. Much easier for us to let everyone think Maria had given birth at home. Maria named her Emma after a character in a book she liked. The moment I saw her red hair I told Maria we’d have to give her a name that goes with that hair.”

  “So that’s where the McDougal came from,” Zane guessed.

  “Emma McDougal Alvarez. Never was there a more cheerful child or a more mischievous one,” he said with obvious affection. “She grew up here, making our lives blessed. We wanted her to go to college, but then Maria died.” He shook his head. “Emma didn’t want to leave me here alone, so she stayed for a while until I made her leave.” A sadness came into his eyes.

  “Something happened to her?” Zane asked, remembering what the people she’d worked with at the hotel in Denver had said. They had sensed some tragedy in her, perhaps the death of a husband or husband and child.

  “She met a man. A bad man.”

  RAFE GRABBED JINX and dragged her to her feet. She told herself not to fight him, but as he pulled her up, she saw his men dragging Dawson’s limp body behind the cabin.

  “No,” she cried and fought to get away. “You killed him?”

  “Who is he?” Rafe demanded, shaking her into submission. “Who is your accomplice?”

  When she didn’t answer, he shook her harder.

  “His name is Dawson Chisholm.”

  Rafe swore. “This is why you wanted to hit this ranch? You’ve been working with him all along?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” she said and realized at once that was the wrong thing to say to a man like Rafe.

  He backhanded her across the mouth.

  She wiped her bleeding lip and glared at him. “He came up here to check his cattle and caught me. I’ve been his prisoner ever since.”

  Rafe gave her a scathing look. “You really do think I’m stupid, don’t you? I saw the two of you ride in here together. You thought you could double-cross me?”

  Jinx felt too sick to answer. She wanted to curl up and die. They’d killed Dawson. She started to slump back to the ground, but Rafe slammed her against the stone well, holding her up by a fistful of her jacket in his beefy hand. “How many others are there?”

  She shook her head. “There aren’t any others.” She could tell he didn’t believe her. “But when his five brothers find out what you’ve done…”

  Rafe swore and shoved her toward her horse. “You try to make a run for it and I will personally shoot you,” he said as his men came around the side of the house.

  What had they done with Dawson’s body? Her heart ached. She’d warned herself not to fall for him. But she had. And she’d gotten him killed. If the rustlers had hit any other ranch but Chisholm Cattle Company… Jinx knew that any rancher could have caught one of them and ended up like her father and Dawson, but still it wasn’t any rancher who’d gotten killed. It was Dawson.

  “Let’s get these calves down to the rest of the herd,” Rafe ordered.

  Jinx realized that the dust she’d seen on the horizon hadn’t been the rustlers at all. Dawson must have seen it and thought the same thing. No wonder they both hadn’t been suspicious of an ambush.

  But Rafe hadn’t driven the cattle any farther than just over the hill into a lush meadow. She saw the dark Angus cattle, heard the mothers begin to respond to the sounds of their bawling calves and move toward them.

  Past the cattle, she saw the second abandoned ranch house set back against a hill with some out-buildings around it.

  “She’s going with us?” one of the rustlers demanded. They hadn’t moved toward their horses.

  Rafe laid his hand over the six-gun on his hip. “She’s going with us as far as the trucks in case any more Chisholms show up. She is now our hostage.”

  The men looked as if they would have preferred Rafe kill her and leave her here with Chisholm, but they didn’t put up an argument. Jinx knew that any one of them would gladly shoot her. They’d killed twice now. What was another body to get rid of out here in the middle of nowhere?

  Jinx glanced toward the old cabin as Rafe led her horse and her toward the waiting cattle and the small ranch house. Now that he wasn’t looking, she let the tears come.

  I’m so sorry, Dawson. So sorry. Forgive me.

  But she knew she would never forgive herself.

  AGGIE BROUGHT EMMA DINNER—another sandwich, an apple and more coffee.

  Emma wasn’t one to complain. She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a drink, needing the warmth. She couldn’t help but think of Hoyt in jail, both of them prisoners.

  “I’ll bring you an extra sandwich in the morning,” Aggie said.

  “Why?” Emma asked, instantly suspicious.

  “There is something I need to do, but don’t worry, I’ll be back later in the day.”

  She put down the coffee, having suddenly lost her appetite. “Don’t hurt my family.”

  Aggie cocked a brow at her. “Your family?”

  “I mean it. Do whatever you want with me, but leave the boys alone.”

  Aggie laughed. “The boys seem to be out of control over at the house. They got into a huge fight after the sheriff stopped by to talk to them this morning.”

  Emma felt sick. Her stepsons needed her more than ever with their father
in jail. “You have to let me go to them. What is the point of keeping me here anyway?”

  “Do you have any idea what evidence the sheriff might have wanted to show them?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t you? You hear everything that is going on at that house. Aggie, this is crazy, surely you realize that? What is it you hope to hear over there?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Try me,” Emma said, although she suspected Aggie was right.

  “I told you. Your life is in danger and someone is trying to frame your husband for murder. I’m just trying to prove it.”

  Emma shook her head and laughed. “You’re the one who is trying to frame Hoyt for even your murder. You’re the one who drugged me and now has me locked up here.”

  Aggie shook her head. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me any more than the sheriff would if I took my story to her. There’s more going on here than you know,” she said mysteriously.

  Emma groaned as Aggie moved to the door.

  “You’re just going to have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

  Good luck with that, Emma thought but wisely didn’t say as the woman left, locking the door behind her.

  THE THUNDERSTORM that had been brewing on the horizon moved in so quickly, it seemed to take them all by surprise. They moved the calves down to the meadow, turning them out to find their mothers. The noise from the cows and their bawling calves at first hid the sound of thunder on the horizon.

  Jinx noticed the wind first. It picked up, bending the tall tops of the pines and sending dust devils whirling across the patch of dirt in front of the old ranch house.

  She squinted as dust filled the air. The clouds snuffed out the last of the light as they moved in. It felt as if someone had dropped a dark blanket over them.

  Jinx felt nothing. A numbness had settled into her bones. She sat on her horse knowing that the rustlers were watching her, almost daring her to take advantage of the storm to make a run for it.