Read Online Elizabeth Lowell by Reckless Love - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Reckless Love
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coming toward me.
Mentally Ty reviewed the small, irregularly shaped valley. Barely more than a mile long, never more than a quarter of a mile wide, the valley was walled in by red sandstone on one side and black lava on the other. The hot springs at the north end fed the small stream. Other watercourses joined the stream at various points of the valley, but they held water only after heavy rains, when cliffs wore lacy waterfalls that were as beautiful as they were short-lived.
Ty decided that the best point for an ambush was right where he was. A very faint trail wound between the edge of the willows and the ancient lava flow that all but cut the valley in two. Anything trying to reach the head of the valley would be forced to walk between the willow thicket and the cliff. All he had to do was be very still and watch what passed within reach.
Motionless, poised for attack, he waited as he had waited too many times before.
Wish Logan were here. A man
’
s unprotected back gets real itchy at times like this.
But Logan was in Wyoming with Silver. As for his other brothers, the last Ty had heard, both Case and Duncan were looking for gold with Blue Wolf, trying to repair the MacKenzie family fortunes and make a future for themselves.
At least, that’s what Duncan was doing. No one but God—more likely, the devil—knew what went on in Case’s mind. Fighting in the war had closed his youngest brother up tighter than bark on a tree.
A few minutes later Ty heard the faint sounds of a man’s progress through the tall grass. When the sounds passed the willows where Ty hid, he came out in a silent rush. One arm hooked around the intruder’s neck from behind as the knife sliced upward in a lethal arc.
At the last instant he realized that the man was old and unarmed. He pulled the knife aside.
“Who are you?” Ty asked quietly, holding the blade across the man’s throat.
“John Turner. And I’m right glad you ain’t an Injun or a bandit. I’d be dead by now.”
Ty didn’t bother to make welcoming sounds. “Walk ahead of me toward that red cliff. Don’t hesitate or turn around. If you make a wrong move I’ll kill you.”
Chapter Eight
Ty followed close behind the intruder, but not so close that a sudden turn and lunge would have caught him off guard. A few minutes later they walked up to the edge of Janna’s bidden camp.
“All right, kid. Come on out,” Ty said.
Janna stood up. “How many times do I have to tell you that my name isn’t kid, it’s—oh, hello, Jack. Did you run out of stomach medicine already?”
The old man didn’t answer, because Ty’s knife was resting once more against his throat.
“You told me your name was John Turner,” Ty said.
“’Tis, but most folks call me Mad Jack.”
Ty looked over at Janna.
She nodded. “It’s all right. Jack was Papa’s friend.”
Ty lowered the knife. Mad Jack turned and spat a thin stream of brown liquid toward a nearby bush.
“Her pa staked me. We was partners,” Mad Jack said, shifting the cud of tobacco to the other side of his mouth. “He cashed in his chips a few years back, but I ain’t done with the game yet.” He looked at Janna. “Brung you some more gold, but you wasn’t in any of the old places.”
“It wasn’t safe anymore. Cascabel’s new camp was too close.”
“Yeah, them pony soldiers have made that old rattlesnake’s life pure hell this summer.” Mad Jack shucked off his backpack, untied a flap and pulled out a fat leather bag that fit in his hand. “Figured you’d need to lay in some winter supplies. From the size of your young buck, I shoulda brung two pokes of gold.”
“How has your stomach been?” she asked hurriedly, wanting to get off the subject of her “young buck.”
“Middlin’,” Mad Jack said, shifting the wad of tobacco again. “How ‘bout you, little Janna? You be all right? You come early to your winter-over place.”
“Ty was injured,” Janna said. She glanced
Mentally Ty reviewed the small, irregularly shaped valley. Barely more than a mile long, never more than a quarter of a mile wide, the valley was walled in by red sandstone on one side and black lava on the other. The hot springs at the north end fed the small stream. Other watercourses joined the stream at various points of the valley, but they held water only after heavy rains, when cliffs wore lacy waterfalls that were as beautiful as they were short-lived.
Ty decided that the best point for an ambush was right where he was. A very faint trail wound between the edge of the willows and the ancient lava flow that all but cut the valley in two. Anything trying to reach the head of the valley would be forced to walk between the willow thicket and the cliff. All he had to do was be very still and watch what passed within reach.
Motionless, poised for attack, he waited as he had waited too many times before.
Wish Logan were here. A man
’
s unprotected back gets real itchy at times like this.
But Logan was in Wyoming with Silver. As for his other brothers, the last Ty had heard, both Case and Duncan were looking for gold with Blue Wolf, trying to repair the MacKenzie family fortunes and make a future for themselves.
At least, that’s what Duncan was doing. No one but God—more likely, the devil—knew what went on in Case’s mind. Fighting in the war had closed his youngest brother up tighter than bark on a tree.
A few minutes later Ty heard the faint sounds of a man’s progress through the tall grass. When the sounds passed the willows where Ty hid, he came out in a silent rush. One arm hooked around the intruder’s neck from behind as the knife sliced upward in a lethal arc.
At the last instant he realized that the man was old and unarmed. He pulled the knife aside.
“Who are you?” Ty asked quietly, holding the blade across the man’s throat.
“John Turner. And I’m right glad you ain’t an Injun or a bandit. I’d be dead by now.”
Ty didn’t bother to make welcoming sounds. “Walk ahead of me toward that red cliff. Don’t hesitate or turn around. If you make a wrong move I’ll kill you.”
Chapter Eight
Ty followed close behind the intruder, but not so close that a sudden turn and lunge would have caught him off guard. A few minutes later they walked up to the edge of Janna’s bidden camp.
“All right, kid. Come on out,” Ty said.
Janna stood up. “How many times do I have to tell you that my name isn’t kid, it’s—oh, hello, Jack. Did you run out of stomach medicine already?”
The old man didn’t answer, because Ty’s knife was resting once more against his throat.
“You told me your name was John Turner,” Ty said.
“’Tis, but most folks call me Mad Jack.”
Ty looked over at Janna.
She nodded. “It’s all right. Jack was Papa’s friend.”
Ty lowered the knife. Mad Jack turned and spat a thin stream of brown liquid toward a nearby bush.
“Her pa staked me. We was partners,” Mad Jack said, shifting the cud of tobacco to the other side of his mouth. “He cashed in his chips a few years back, but I ain’t done with the game yet.” He looked at Janna. “Brung you some more gold, but you wasn’t in any of the old places.”
“It wasn’t safe anymore. Cascabel’s new camp was too close.”
“Yeah, them pony soldiers have made that old rattlesnake’s life pure hell this summer.” Mad Jack shucked off his backpack, untied a flap and pulled out a fat leather bag that fit in his hand. “Figured you’d need to lay in some winter supplies. From the size of your young buck, I shoulda brung two pokes of gold.”
“How has your stomach been?” she asked hurriedly, wanting to get off the subject of her “young buck.”
“Middlin’,” Mad Jack said, shifting the wad of tobacco again. “How ‘bout you, little Janna? You be all right? You come early to your winter-over place.”
“Ty was injured,” Janna said. She glanced
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