Read Online Gather The Children (Chronicles of the Maca Book 2) by Mari Collier - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mari Collier
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stopped Rity from doing what she wanted; not even Red. He watched Rolfe swing his horse towards MacDonald. They were probably going to confab. The two men had dropped farther behind, but were still too close to make a break. Dandy was tied to the back and it would take time to untie the reins. He didn't need a saddle as he could always steal one later. He settled back. He had four days. In a way it had been fun talking with Martin. It was the first time he'd ever really talked with anyone near his own age. If things had been different, maybe Martin would be his friend. Lorenz considered that. Other people had friends, but he never knew how. Maybe he could mollify Martin. Trouble was, he didn't know how to do that either. The wagon jolted to a stop.
“Piss call,” said Martin and stepped down.
Lorenz swung around in the seat. Rolfe was relieving himself, and the big bastard had turned his horse to show Young James something in the distance. “Good idea,” he said to Martin and left the seat with a leap.
He'd be in plain view, but neither man had a rifle in hand. Damn careless. He slipped the hitch and jumped on Dandy. He could hear them yelling as he dug his heels in. First they would have to get Young James off MacDonald's horse. He figured they wouldn't shoot him, just yet. He had no rope, no saddle, no gun, no knife, but by God he had his freedom, and he knew just how to run with another chasing. So hi-ya, Dandy, lift them legs. Big Bastard was too big and too heavy. He couldn't catch him on Dandy even if Dandy was past his prime. He stretched out and let Dandy run, automatically calculating the distance. One mile at a hard run, then trot, then run, then trot, and then worry about hiding your tracks.
When he pulled Dandy up to look back, his jaw dropped. MacDonald was still in sight. That big horse of his was cutting away at the distance. He gauged how much time separated them. Naw, let Dandy walk for a while. He had time.
He kept Dandy at a trot. His eyes raked the landscape near the road and towards the hills to the northeast. He reckoned the distance to the hills, but it was too far with the land so flat and open. The other side of the road wasn't any better as it was cut by the river the road more or less followed. The banks here were too steep for Dandy to go over and it might spook him to push it. If he knew the country, where the river turned, or where a ford was, he'd cross. Right now, it was best to wait for better terrain. He twisted in the saddle for another look. MacDonald was walking his horse now. Lorenz half-hoped the big bastard would have pushed his mount into a punishing gallop, but then in this heat it might wear Dandy something fierce, and he did not want to steal a horse. The law might look the other way at swiping food or a pair of britches, but a horse was a definite ticket to hell. Lorenz kept a firm hand on Dandy and when time and distance demanded, he kicked him into another run.
He had but one advantage: weight. He kept the run, trot, walk sequence going twice more. When he pulled Dandy to a walk and looked again, a curse burst from him. MacDonald was rapidly closing the distance, not bothering to slow his brute of a horse, cutting the remaining ground to yards. Lorenz kicked his heels into Dandy's sweating flanks and headed for the river. It was now or never, and never wasn't looking too good.
He chose a spot where the bank seemed to flatten and slid off to lead Dandy down the loose incline. Once on the level ground, he realized his mistake. The bank on the other side was too steep and too sandy. He glanced up river and saw the cut on both sides where there was a natural fording area. He threw himself on Dandy and headed towards it. He was too late.
MacDonald rode down the cut and met him at the ford. Lorenz glared at MacDonald to cover the sick feeling rising in his stomach. The man's face was set and grim; all humor was gone from the wide mouth and dark eyes.
“Ye twill
“Piss call,” said Martin and stepped down.
Lorenz swung around in the seat. Rolfe was relieving himself, and the big bastard had turned his horse to show Young James something in the distance. “Good idea,” he said to Martin and left the seat with a leap.
He'd be in plain view, but neither man had a rifle in hand. Damn careless. He slipped the hitch and jumped on Dandy. He could hear them yelling as he dug his heels in. First they would have to get Young James off MacDonald's horse. He figured they wouldn't shoot him, just yet. He had no rope, no saddle, no gun, no knife, but by God he had his freedom, and he knew just how to run with another chasing. So hi-ya, Dandy, lift them legs. Big Bastard was too big and too heavy. He couldn't catch him on Dandy even if Dandy was past his prime. He stretched out and let Dandy run, automatically calculating the distance. One mile at a hard run, then trot, then run, then trot, and then worry about hiding your tracks.
When he pulled Dandy up to look back, his jaw dropped. MacDonald was still in sight. That big horse of his was cutting away at the distance. He gauged how much time separated them. Naw, let Dandy walk for a while. He had time.
He kept Dandy at a trot. His eyes raked the landscape near the road and towards the hills to the northeast. He reckoned the distance to the hills, but it was too far with the land so flat and open. The other side of the road wasn't any better as it was cut by the river the road more or less followed. The banks here were too steep for Dandy to go over and it might spook him to push it. If he knew the country, where the river turned, or where a ford was, he'd cross. Right now, it was best to wait for better terrain. He twisted in the saddle for another look. MacDonald was walking his horse now. Lorenz half-hoped the big bastard would have pushed his mount into a punishing gallop, but then in this heat it might wear Dandy something fierce, and he did not want to steal a horse. The law might look the other way at swiping food or a pair of britches, but a horse was a definite ticket to hell. Lorenz kept a firm hand on Dandy and when time and distance demanded, he kicked him into another run.
He had but one advantage: weight. He kept the run, trot, walk sequence going twice more. When he pulled Dandy to a walk and looked again, a curse burst from him. MacDonald was rapidly closing the distance, not bothering to slow his brute of a horse, cutting the remaining ground to yards. Lorenz kicked his heels into Dandy's sweating flanks and headed for the river. It was now or never, and never wasn't looking too good.
He chose a spot where the bank seemed to flatten and slid off to lead Dandy down the loose incline. Once on the level ground, he realized his mistake. The bank on the other side was too steep and too sandy. He glanced up river and saw the cut on both sides where there was a natural fording area. He threw himself on Dandy and headed towards it. He was too late.
MacDonald rode down the cut and met him at the ford. Lorenz glared at MacDonald to cover the sick feeling rising in his stomach. The man's face was set and grim; all humor was gone from the wide mouth and dark eyes.
“Ye twill
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