Marshaling her heart, p.19
Marshaling Her Heart, page 19
“Wonderful day. Why do you ask?”
“You have a ridiculous smile on your face, like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Not even when that new colt was born colored like your palomino.”
Becky laughed. “It was such a wonder, Nate. I suppose I saw my little brothers when they were born, but that was a long time ago, and I was so young myself, I have no memory of it. That makes little Garret the only baby I’ve ever seen. What a tiny miracle he is. And he comes into the world in that tiny package but has everything he needs to grow into a man. God made a wonderful world for us. I’ve spent so much time worried about outlaws and the Marshals and working the cattle while being shorthanded, I forget how blessed I am.”
“Well, I’ve been feeling mighty blessed since you agreed to marry me, Becky.”
That got a wide smile out of her. As they approached the last curve before arriving home, she said, “Marrying you was a fine idea. Fine indeed.”
“I’m hoping Sal comes back in just a few days. Maybe he’ll bring some of the Marshals with him. More skilled hands would sure help around here.”
Becky reached over and rested a gloved hand on Nate’s wrist. “We’ll manage. Right now I’m only going to think of blessings. Time enough to go back to fretting tomorrow.”
They rounded the corner to see Samantha and Leland go into the house hand in hand.
“I think keeping those two working hard and exhausted by the end of the day is the answer to their marriage woes.” Nate twisted his wrist just enough that he and Becky were holding hands as they rode toward the barn.
“If that solves marriage problems, we ought to get along just fine for the rest of our lives.”
Nate stretched from his horse to hers and kissed her. “I’m counting on it.”
Once they got the horses settled for the night, it was suppertime, so the two of them headed toward the house.
The Kid came running into Joshua’s house, gasping, his eyes so wide, Joshua could see the white all the way around them. The Kid looked like a frightened horse.
“Buck and Harvey found me and dragged me back here, but I should’ve stayed until I found the men. They just vanished, Boss. All of ’em!” The Kid was shouting now.
Joshua lurched to his feet, his desk chair slamming against the wall behind him. “The gang vanished? Were they captured, killed, or did they run off?” His thoughts were reeling. “Wait. Was this after you got the gold shipment?”
“No. We all rode out the night before just like we’d planned. We got into our positions. I stood there overlooking the trail and watched the freight wagon pass through. I was on the far south end of the canyon wall, and I was supposed to be the last to get into the fight. But there was no fight. No guns were fired. The wagon, loaded down heavy with a fortune in gold, just rolled on by while I stood there wondering what had happened.”
“Why are you just coming home now?” It’d been nearly a week. Sure, it was a long ride to the overlook for the robbery and a long ride back, but The Kid should’ve returned before now. It made Joshua furious to think they’d let things drag on this long.
“I searched everywhere before I gave up and came back. I tried to follow their tracks and thought I’d picked them up a couple of times, but I was never sure. I’d follow a faint trail for a bit, then lose ’em. I was days searching, ridin’ in all directions. But it’s like they vanished into thin air.”
A chill ran up Joshua’s spine. The Kid made it sound as though they were talking about ghosts, like dark magic was at work. Had the devil himself come for his own?
What was Joshua supposed to do now? Skleen was the one who knew which stagecoaches carried payrolls, or in this case, a wagon loaded with gold. Without Skleen, Joshua wasn’t sure how to learn when another stagecoach would come through.
He felt trapped . . . and with a big note coming due soon.
He’d sent his most experienced men on this robbery. The ones he had left, including The Kid here, all needed help. And his best help had vanished.
Panic like Joshua had never known avalanched through him.
Then, out of pure fear, an idea came to him. Give it up. Ride away from this life of crime he’d never intended to lead. Lose the ranch and start up new somewhere else. An honest life.
He hated the fear he felt. It erupted into rage.
Rage needed a target, and he found one in a snap.
Becky.
Mostly alone at her stupid ranch, and he was her only living relative. The only one with a claim to inherit everything she owned.
He’d give her one more chance to be reasonable.
He looked hard at The Kid. Made no effort to conceal his rage. The Kid backed up a step, expecting Joshua might kill the messenger.
“Tell the men to saddle up.”
“Where we goin’, Boss?”
“Go. Now!” Killing the messenger was an idea with merit. The Kid might not have been in on whatever his gang had done, but he hadn’t found the varmints either. And he’d taken too long getting back here.
The Kid scrambled out of Joshua’s office at a near run. Joshua tamped down his rage. The amusement of making a man run for his life was like a balm for his temper.
He thought things through calmly and decided he wouldn’t change a bit of his plan. He strode from the room to ready his horse. Joshua never went along with his gang, but this time he would. This time he’d settle up with his selfish daughter.
He figured she’d have maybe two or three hands at her place, no more. Good, they would have them outmanned.
Just like always, they’d leave no witnesses alive.
26
Becky took Cassie and Michaela with her. Nate got Samantha and Leland. Brand stayed at the house to do chores.
Becky really had to stomp down hard on the boss aspect of her relationship with Brand. He was worried about his daughters, thinking they might be so incompetent that they’d try Becky’s patience. And that was possible.
But Becky had no dangerous tasks set for the morning. She had a herd at one of her farthest pastures and just wanted to ride out and make sure the grass was holding up. The creek, which sometimes got low by the end of the summer, was running fine because they’d had lots of rain in the past weeks. Still, a rancher kept a close eye on her grass and water.
“If the cattle need to be moved,” Becky said to the girls as they rode along, “we’ll come back for them. It’s a pasture with rocks and trees and a steep bank along the creek. We won’t try to haze those stubborn cows out of that tough ground alone. Even if I find a cow that’s come up lame, I don’t intend to doctor her, not with just the three of us. But if they’re comfortable, we’ll just ride amongst ’em, stir them up enough to move a bit so I can see how they look. For now, we’ll ride out and back home—that’s what I’m hoping for.”
It was a nice ride. She enjoyed spending time with the girls. They were good riders and mostly quiet. Michaela especially was careful, easy in the saddle, but she took no risks and wasn’t really relaxed.
Cassie stuck on her horse like a little burr. She was no young child, but with a little training, she’d be a solid cowhand. Nell liked having the girls around, Becky knew that, but it was tempting to ask if she could have Cassie out to work regularly and train her for ranching.
Occasionally the girls would leave off their quiet ways to talk about the baby. They were delighted with little Garret. Becky had to admit she was, too.
They reached the edge of her property. This was the land that shared a boundary line with Pa’s. She shuddered at the memory of Pa getting ready to hit her before Nate stopped him.
She thought of how he’d tried to stir up trouble the day of Mrs. Mussel’s speech, and how he’d been taken down by the cavalry. Bound and gagged and left lying at the back of the crowd, along with the rest of his cowhands, until the speech was over.
When the speech concluded and Mrs. Mussel and Mrs. Morris had left town at a sharp speed and were well away, with the crowd having dispersed, the sheriff finally untied the men and let them return to their homes.
Becky had slipped into Nell’s shop to get away from whatever ugly thing her pa might say to her. She watched him through the shop’s window; he was red-faced with humiliation and furious as all get-out.
All those unpleasant memories rode along with her now, and she almost turned back. Pa’s range was vast, Becky’s almost as big. There was next to no chance Pa would be anywhere near this one pasture. Even so, she unhooked the thong on her pistol holster. Best to ride ready for trouble, whether from Pa or his men or a feisty Angus bull.
They rode around the pasture and found nothing to worry about.
“The grass is getting worn out here, but that’s normal for September. The cattle will be all right for another week or two, and by that time all my hands will be back.”
The girls acted interested in learning, especially Cassie.
“Let’s head home.” Becky reined her horse toward the Idee, probably an hour or more away by horseback. They’d started early and would be home in time for the noon meal.
If they hurried.
“Let’s make tracks,” Becky said to the girls. “We’re past the roughest part of the trail. I want to get home. I’m hungry.”
The girls both gave her a shocked but delighted look, then kicked their horses into a canter.
Becky gave them a few paces head start before spurring her palomino into a ground-eating gallop.
Out of nowhere, a loop sailed straight at her, roped her tight, and jerked her off the horse. The palomino, its blood up for the race, didn’t seem to notice she was gone and vanished around a curve in the trail.
She hit the ground so hard, it knocked the wind out of her.
“Let’s get out of here.”
She didn’t recognize the voice. Stunned and gasping for breath, she wrestled with the rope, clawed for her gun . . . only to find it wasn’t there. The unhooked thong had allowed her pistol to come out of its holster.
Then a man was on her so fast, she couldn’t get the lasso free.
“We gotta get those kids. No witnesses, remember?”
“They didn’t see nuthin’, and I’m not gonna hurt a couple of little girls. Let’s just get this one out of here, and fast. They won’t notice she’s missing until after we’re long gone.”
“Boss ain’t gonna like it.”
“Then keep your mouth shut.”
Becky kept her mouth shut too, praying the girls would ride for miles before they noticed her horse was riderless.
They’d get home, Nate would see she was missing, and he’d light out for her. Surely one of the best trackers in the territory would find her.
“No witnesses . . .”
Her stomach wrenched at those words. The only folks she knew of who had a reputation for such a thing was the Deadeye Gang. But they’d been arrested and hauled off to jail. The usual gang was four or five, maybe six outlaws. Had they made a mistake in capturing those men? Chased after some other robbers who weren’t part of the dreaded gang?
Did Pa have some bad men working for him who weren’t in the Deadeye Gang, but who might take part in a holdup? If so, why come after her?
Becky realized she didn’t really know who belonged to the gang.
No witnesses meant they were taking her somewhere to kill her.
She needed to think. To plan. To be ready to make a break for it if the chance ever came. And yet all she could think about was that she was possibly in the clutches of the most murderous gang in Wyoming.
Her heart pounded. Tears burned her eyes.
A bag was thrust over her head. Now she couldn’t witness anything. Being blind was a horror, but not letting her see anything might be a good thing. It might mean they intended to let her live and didn’t want her to identify them. It cleared the panic enough for her to ask them, “What do you want?”
She struggled to free her hands, which were bound with rope so tightly that it cut into her wrists. She noticed how the man who’d tied her up had the skill of a cowhand.
“Shut up. You’ll find out soon enough what we want.” The man doing the talking laughed.
The other one, who’d refused to go after the girls, said, “I’ll hang back and cover our tracks.”
She was lifted to her feet. Her knees buckled, and she’d’ve fallen if they hadn’t caught her. She got draped across the saddle on a restless horse that snorted at the odd, wiggling package on its back.
“What are you doing?” She shuddered to think of being carried away. Yes, Nate would come. Yes, he’d find her. But how long would she be in the hands of these two men?
The horse shifted again, the saddle creaking. She felt the man swing up behind her and lash the horse. They took off at a gallop.
Where were they going? She tried to guess the direction. With the sun nearly straight overhead, she couldn’t get a sense of north, south, east or west.
But she knew her land. She felt them round a curve, then ride straight, then climb for a while. They entered a wooded area and slowed down. The trail was narrow here. Woods, because the temperature dropped here, which said shade to her. And narrow because she got slapped in the head or feet occasionally by limbs hanging over the trail. She felt the slope going up the side of a mountain and struggled to recognize the area. It might have been desperation, but it felt familiar.
What good would it do her to know anyway?
Maybe if she fought her way free, she would know which way to run home. But even without figuring out her location, she tried because it was occupying her mind, pushing back against the fear.
There was no shortage of narrow wooded trails around here, so she had no idea what direction they’d ridden.
Nate heard thundering hooves riding too fast for any good purpose. He’d come this far from the ranch, checking cattle, when he’d come across a baby calf in need of attention.
His head spun around to face the danger just when Cassie burst out from a clump of trees, Michaela right behind her. Next came Becky’s palomino.
The horse was riderless.
Nate leapt to his feet and charged for his horse. He mounted up and rode over to meet the girls.
“We don’t know what happened to Becky,” Cassie said. “We were galloping for home and got ahead of her. We’d been running a long time when her horse caught up. Since we were closer to here than where we’d started running, we came for you.”
“I know where you worked today. I’m going to find her. Get to your pa. Stay by the ranch house.”
“You’ll need help. Pa’s a hand with doctoring cattle. What if she fell off her horse? She might need him.”
“Just stay to the ranch house. I don’t want any of you in danger.” Nate slapped the reins against his black stallion’s rump and headed for the distant pasture.
Brand dashed out of the chicken coop when he heard galloping.
His girls appeared on horses so tired they were lathered. Becky’s horse veered toward the barn and trotted inside.
“What happened?” Brand asked.
The girls shouted at him, explaining and pointing. He sprinted for the barn. The girls’ horses were spent, the palomino as well. The girls followed and kept talking as he saddled the horse he’d ridden in on.
Then a new set of hooves sounded, coming from town.
He led the horse outside, swung up, and saw a cowhand riding in. Brand had seen him a couple of times. Nate’s brother, Sal. The men from the cattle drive weren’t due back for weeks. Sal was one of the men who’d abandoned the ranch.
“What’s going on?” The sharp voice and, what’s more, the sharper eyes made Brand wonder what kind of man this was.
“Becky’s missing,” Brand answered. “Nate’s gone after her. Are you a tracker?”
“Better than Nate. Let’s go.”
27
As they rode on, Becky tried to get a sense of where they might be headed. Her first thoughts were of Pa and how ugly he could act. But were they on the trail to the Circle J? She wasn’t sure.
Draped over a saddle, her belly hurt, her blood rushing to her head. A tree branch hit her hard, which left her feeling dizzy and fighting to stay conscious.
Into that dizziness and confusion, that sense of being lost, that knowledge that she might soon face a horror, a still, small voice whispered the words “Whom shall I fear?”
A Bible verse whispered into her terrorized mind by a loving God.
“Whom shall I fear?”
A psalm. She couldn’t remember which one, but she was sure it was from the book of Psalms.
“The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”
She dug deep into the words of the verse. Yes, she might be facing death, but she didn’t fear death. Her growing desperation, her rabbiting thoughts as she tried to place herself, the idea she’d have to overcome two armed men to escape—they were all based in a fight for life.
But that verse was a great truth, for her faith was in the Lord. Her desire to stay alive was about this life when the most fundamental wish of a believer was to be with Jesus. To stand in the presence of God. To pass from this life to the next and be in heaven.
Becky knew in that moment that her faith was true.
She loved her life. She loved Mariah and Nell and that precious new baby, Garret. She loved her ranch, her independence, her own strength.
And here, as she dangled in utter defeat, it blew through her like a fresh mountain wind that she loved Nate.
Yes, God had allowed her to build a wonderful life here in Wyoming. A place of beauty that was beyond imagination.
But what waited for her in the next life was glory.
The fear left her. Because these men couldn’t hurt her.
“To live is Christ. To die is gain.”
Never had God and her Savior been more present for her. She was surrounded by the Spirit of God, His power, strength, and wisdom. And the peace she felt . . .
It was glorious.
All the struggle left her. No more thrashing. No more shouted questions.
