Passions Wild And Free Page 17

  When she didn’t continue, he asked anxiously, “What happened then? Did he attack you or did you slay him?”

  She lowered her voice to a serious tone. “He jumped on me and attacked me … with a thousand licks,” she finished amidst merry laughter. “He belonged to a new neighbor and had been raised from a cub. He was only a playful wild pet. Of course, he almost got shot when my father heard the first scream and came running to help. He saw me tumbling around with a big wolf and blood flying everywhere. It’s amazing how much a little place like this can bleed.”

  “You were mighty lucky, Randee; wolves can rip flesh to pieces.”

  “I’m afraid Bo was in more peril than I was. He ran free once too often and was shot by mistake. It was sad to lose him. Sometimes he went hunting with a group of us and he saved me from danger several times. He always knew where the snakes and pitfalls were located. Someday I’d like to get a good dog like Bo was.”

  “When you settle down, you can,” he remarked.

  She looked into the distance and murmured, “I hope so, if I’m ever allowed to remain in one pla … .” She halted and said, “You ready?”

  “Let’s ride, partner,” he agreed as he mounted his black stallion named Midnight. As they galloped over rolling hills, Marsh speculated over her slip. If “nobody’s coming to look for me” as she’d told him, why was she on the run? Why was” she teamed up with a famous gunslinger in pursuit of a savage band of outlaws? It was hardly the way to go unnoticed for very long. Where had she gotten the ten thousand dollars? She had skills which few men, much less a woman, possessed. Could she be a criminal, or from a family of criminals? Was she truly Randee Hollis? Truly the Carsons’ niece? How had she become the only survivor of an Epson raid? There were many curious things about this beautiful vixen, things he wanted and needed to know. It sounded as if someone was pursuing her and tormenting her. That was bad. He wanted to probe her meaning, but let it pass for now.

  At the Red River stage depot, the Epson Gang was eyeing the unmistakable remains of an Indian attack. Since the station was already destroyed and no signs of rebuilding were in progress, their job in this area was over, at least for the present. They rested for a while, then left for the next target, passing over an attack which would have provided Marsh and Randee with a valuable clue to their motive ….

  Randee and Marsh made good progress that day as the raid sites were further apart in this sparsely populated area where large ranches dominated the open range. At each stop, Marsh instructed her on how to gather clues. She was amazed by the man’s knowledge and skills. He explained how to detect the age of a campfire from the condition of the coals, and how to date someone’s passing, by broken grass or scratches on rocks. He showed her how to read tracks from their depth, clarity, and style. She listened closely and intently.

  “Most blacksmiths have their own marks, if you know what to look for. That clue can tell you where the rider had his horse reshod, and it helps you stay on the right man’s trail when tracks overlap on roads. If you know an area, Randee, you can judge when a track was made by the moisture in the depression, or the lack of it. If there’s been a sandstorm lately, but the track doesn’t have any dirt inside, then you know your rider passed by after the storm. The same is true with rain and snow. When you have blades of grass trampled, you can check the breaks on them for moisture. If you get really good at it, you can tell a horse’s size and its rider’s weight from the depth of the impression. It all comes with time and experience.”

  Around two o’clock, they heard gunshots in the distance. Randee watched Marsh halt to listen and to speculate. She remained quiet and alert while he made the decision to ride that way.

  “Let’s take it slow and easy, partner,” he cautioned her.

  “I’m glad you aren’t suggesting I remain behind again. How else can I learn anything and gain experience if I don’t get involved?”

  He glanced at her and grinned as he admitted, “I want to, boss lady, but I know it’s useless. Besides, I might have need of your skills. From those sounds, more than a few guns are at work. Close your eyes and listen a moment. You’ll see what I mean.” Marsh observed her, knowing he had to discover just how good she was, even by thrusting her into danger. Watching her, somehow he just couldn’t believe she was wicked or guileful. Whatever trouble she left behind in Kansas couldn’t have been her fault.

  Randee obeyed. She smiled as she opened her eyes and said, “You’re right; each gun has a different voice. I’ve never noticed that before. I can learn so much from you, Marsh Logan; you’re a genius.”

  “Not really, partner. I just like to stay alive and healthy. And I’ll keep you that way, too.” Her adoring smile and genuine compliment warmed him from head to toe, and he wanted to yank her into his arms for a hug and a kiss. Mercy, what a time to be distracted!

  They rode toward the sounds, which grew louder as they neared the trouble. Marsh halted her again for a moment to study the situation. “No chances, Randee Hollis. Understand?” he ordered, then galloped off ahead of her to challenge the five bandits who were trying to stop and rob the stage from Fort Worth to El Paso.

  Randee and Marsh came up behind the bandits before they realized they were under attack. Marsh used the butt of his rifle to knock one masked man from his saddle. Because he hadn’t fired an alerting shot, it allowed them more time to get closer to the other bandits. Randee followed his lead by skillfully lassoing another man and dragging him from his horse. By that time, the people on the stage realized that help had arrived, not more bandits.

  Marsh wounded two men and Randee disabled the fifth man. The stage halted, and the driver hopped down to help his rescuers with the prisoners. He shook Marsh’s hand and slapped him on the back..

  “We’re awfully glad to see you, mister. I thought we were goners for sure. They winged the guard before we caught wind of ‘em.”

  Marsh and the driver bound the men securely while Randee was retrieving the two men who had fallen a ways back. As their horses had run off, she made them walk toward the waiting stage while she held a gun on them. Slightly injured, neither bandit challenged her skills and loaded gun. The few passengers aboard stepped from the coach and thanked Marsh. As the driver took care of the guard’s wound, Marsh chatted with a small boy who was very frightened.

  He hunkered down before the boy and smiled, his blue eyes and white teeth enhancing his awesome appearance. He was dressed in black today and his face bore a two days’ growth of dark whiskers; yet, he exuded gentleness. “It’s over now, son, so you can relax. We have those bandits all tied up and ready for jail.” Marsh saw the lad sniffle and wipe at his tears. He knew the boy was embarrassed by his weakness. Marsh stood and pulled a silver coin from his pocket, then squatted again. He held out the gift and said, “Take this lucky coin and keep it with you all the time. When trouble strikes, hold it tightly in your hand and say, ‘I won’t be scared until I know I have good reason.’ It’s worked for me for years. My papa gave it to me when I was your age and it taught me real courage. You keep it and practice with it. I bet the next time I see you, you’ll be braver than I am.”

  The boy accepted the coin, stared at it, and clutched it tightly. He looked up at Marsh, who had stood, and smiled. “Thanks, mister. I won’t ever cry again, not with my lucky coin to protect me.”

  Randee watched the child’s mother gaze into Marsh’s eyes with a look which revealed more than gratitude. Twinges of jealousy and annoyance nipped at her as Marsh returned the smile and genially chatted with the overly friendly female. When the woman rested her hand on Marsh’s arm and asked if he would please escort them to the next relay station, Randee felt as if cat’s claws were going to spring out of her fingertips to protect her property from that hungry creature. That humorous thought caused Randee to smile and to relax. She had no claim on Marsh Logan, so he could behave any way he desired with the woman, whether she was a widow or somebody’s wife.

  Marsh called Randee over to him
and remarked to everyone, “This is my partner, a real lady who knows how to handle any kind of trouble. She deserves more credit than I do. If she hadn’t been with me today, I couldn’t have handled all those bandits.”

  “I saw how you lassoed that varmint, miss. Never seen better riding and roping in my life,” the driver praised her.

  The woman looked Randee over, and gave the impression that she considered the blonde to be anything but a lady. She smiled falsely, but did not add her thanks to the others’ gratitude. Randee glanced at the woman as if she were trivial, but smiled at the little boy.

  Marsh suppressed his amusement with the two women. He told the driver, “I’ll help you tie them tightly to the roof, Sam, but we can’t ride that far out of our way. I’m afraid we’re running very late as it is. The relay station is less than ten miles away. I think you can make it that far without more trouble.”

  The guard agreed, “We’ll be fine, Sam. This arm’s better now.”

  The woman earnestly implored Marsh to escort them, making subtle overtures right in front of everyone. Marsh smiled at the boy, tousled his sandy hair, and said, “Sorry ma’am, but we’re on a tight schedule. The station isn’t much further down the road. If there’s more trouble, this fine lad will protect you. Isn’t that right, son?”

  The boy grinned broadly at Marsh’s confidence in him, and nodded his head vigorously. His.small chin was raised proudly, and his little chest was stuck out bravely. But the attractive woman frowned when she did not get her way, and Randee saw how unpleasant it looked to show one’s peevishness in public. Randee exchanged smiles with the little boy as Marsh secured the prisoners to the stage roof. She was aware of the woman’s envious stare as the men worked above them. To help out, Randee gathered three horses and tied their reins to the back of the stage, placing her out of the woman’s sight. Marsh helped the passengers into the coach and waved to them as it pulled away.

  Marsh suggested, “Let’s round up those other two horses and unfetter them before we get under way again. I don’t want them running loose with bridles and saddles. They didn’t look too well-kept. Maybe they’ll join up with a wild herd and enjoy their freedom.”

  Randee concurred with his compassion. After the task was done, she mischievously eyed him up and down, then burst into laughter. “I wonder what those people would have said if they’d known that their champion was the notorious Durango Kid. I hope it doesn’t disappoint you that not everyone recognizes such a famous man.” She and Marsh grinned at each other. “Every time I turn around, you amaze me again. You were very good with that little boy. What an unexpected and surprising man you are, Marsh Logan. You can be as hard as a rock or as soft as cotton. I wonder, are you for real? Or is this only a clever act to keep me off balance?”

  “Actually it’s a cunning trick to win you over to my side,” he teased, licking his lips seductively.

  “Then you’re wasting time and energy, Marsh, because I’ve been on your side since you knocked me down in Wadesville.”

  The black-clad man chuckled. “The same is true of you, Miss Hollis, one amazement after another. You were good back there, very good.” He had been more than pleased with her riding, shooting, wits, courage, and assistance. “I don’t have any more worries about you.”

  “I wish I could say the same” she replied, looking sad.

  “What do you mean?” he inquired confusion.

  She disclosed pointedly, “We both know you would like nothing better than to leave me behind as soon as you don’t need me anymore.”

  Marsh edged his horse closer to hers and met her challenging gaze. His hand went behind her head and pulled it forward. Before kissing her passionately, he devoured her with his ravenous, gaze and said, “Then make certain I need you all the time.”

  After he released her, he instantly galloped away. The shaky female stared at his back as her fingers stroked her tingling lips. She inhaled deeply to slow her racing heart, then took off after him.

  Around five, they halted to rest and water the horses at a spot where a seep was located near a pile of large rocks. Randee strolled around while Marsh leaned against a heavy boulder and watched her. She felt his gaze locked on her, but pretended not to notice it or him. After a time, she turned and said, “You must travel a lot to know this state so well. Do you ever get tired of moving around all the time?”

  “I haven’t yet,” he replied, dreading this line of talk.

  She tried another question to draw him out, “Do you ever get tired of being provoked into gunfights? Tired of killing men who only want to prove they’re faster and better than the Durango Kid?”

  Taking his eyes from her for the first time since they halted, Marsh removed his hat and tossed it on a nearby rock. He rubbed his sleeved arm over his forehead to remove the sweat that was beading there. He hated to deceive her, but he was only pretending to be the noted gunslinger. Like it or not, for now, he had to continue that ruse in case she was captured and questioned by anyone. He met her direct gaze and answered as honestly as possible, for himself, and the real Durango Kid, “I’ve never killed any man who didn’t deserve to die more than I did. A man in my position can’t turn his back on a challenge and walk away without being called a coward or getting shot in the back. Neither one appeals to me, Miss Hollis. Believe it or not, I don’t go looking for gunfights, but I don’t run from them either. I earned this stupid reputation by defending myself, not by searching for trouble and excitement. I guess trouble has a sneaky way of finding me and shoving me into a corner.” He looked at her and hinted, “Surely you realize that most colorful legends are half fiction.”

  Randee detected the hesitation in Marsh’s gaze, voice, and reply. She felt that he was responding in the manner which he presumed she expected, and she found that intriguing. “Fiction or not, it can get you killed one day. How long can a gunslinger of your status hope to win every challenge? Tell me, Marsh, when the senses and skills dull, what happens to men like you?”

  He stared her in the eye and answered too casually, “We usually wind up as a notch on somebody else’s gun.”

  “Knowing that doesn’t bother you?” she probed worriedly.

  “It hasn’t yet,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Does the constant threat of death make your life more exciting?”

  Marsh chuckled in an attempt to relax her. “It certainly gets the blood to rushing and the body to moving. Yes, Randee, I guess it does,” he admitted. “Doesn’t danger have the same effect on you?”

  “Danger, yes, but terror and death, no,” she told him.

  “But aren’t they one and the same?” he reasoned. “People face death every day, in every challenge, in every peril, in every breath. Think about those stage passengers. They could have been killed if we hadn’t of happened along at the right moment. You could have caught a deadly cold today from a chill, by washing your hair. At any time you could get thrown or trampled by your horse. We could bump into the Epson Gang any day and provoke them into killing us. You could have been shot in that bank holdup. Or killed … during a stage robbery on your way to Red River. There could be a rattler ready to strike you from, beneath that rock. Death surrounds us every moment, woman. That’s why I live from one minute to the next.”

  “Are you ever afraid of anything?” she asked.

  “I try not to be. And if I am, I try not to show it,” he admitted.

  Randee murmured reflectively, “I would be terrified if I could be gunned down at any moment. Why aren’t you?”

  Marsh shrugged. “Terror keeps one on alert, Miss Hollis, and being alert keeps one alive. You don’t think it’s exciting to face stimulating challenges each day?”

  “I don’t find terror or continuous fear exciting or stimulating, especially when there’s nothing you can do to conquer it and it feeds on you every, day and night like a ravenous vulture. If fear is only a temporary condition, you have hope and you know it’ll be over soon. But if there’s no end or
relief in sight, that’s terror. Surely an outlaw experiences terror each day. He’s always running scared of the law. He can’t ever let his guard down and relax fully The terror of capture and hanging is with him every moment. Is that exciting? I think not, Marsh. Surely it’s much the same with a famous gunslinger. Any day you could get pushed over that skinny mark which separates the law and crime; then you’d be running for your life instead of drifting by choice. Would your life still be exciting and stimulating?”

  “Like I said, Randee, I live for today. At least that’s true for now. This is me, woman. I’m not ready or willing to change, so I’ll have to take my risks. Just like you, I have problems to solve.”

  Randee couldn’t ask him to explain, not after telling him to keep his nose out of her private affairs. “Sometimes the only way to fight a problem is to retreat. Don’t you ever back away from a battle or opponent? Have you never felt that the other man was stronger and that you had lived your last day?”

  “I guess I’ve always felt it was better to die than to feel helpless. Nothing sticks in a man’s craw worse than being a coward. And nothing is more unforgivable than forcing a man to look like one.”

  “Sometimes there’s no way around being or feeling helpless, but that doesn’t make you a coward. Maybe you don’t think much about your survival and future because you have only yourself to consider.”

  “That’s why I stay alone, so I won’t have any worries to slow me down or control my actions. I don’t want to be responsible for another person’s life. Considering the fact that my parents are dead because their son was off living his own life, should tell you I’m not good at protecting anyone but myself.”