Read Online Rue Allyn by One Night's Desire - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: One Night's Desire
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as the gunman was, Ev was relieved to see they hadn’t killed him. Looked more and more like killing wasn’t the plan — Boyd’s or the Wildcat’s — and that fit with last month’s ambush. She’d had the chance to kill them and had actually made sure they’d survive.
The Shoshone dismounted, handed his reins to Wildcat then manhandled Ev to his feet.
“Let’s get you mounted, Marshal.” The man hauled Ev over to his horse and held the stirrup for him to place his left foot.
Ev gave two second’s thought to causing a ruckus, just to slow the thieves down. With hands manacled behind, he knew he wasn’t going to get free, but maybe he could make it possible for the army or the posse to catch up. Then he remembered that blanket and the makeshift pillow. Dangit all, why’d she have to go and do something thoughtful? Made her human, even if she was crazy, and he didn’t want to think of her as anything but a criminal suspect.
“I can sling you across that saddle, if you’d prefer being carried to riding.”
The Indian’s steady stare told Ev he’d better make up his mind, so he lifted his foot and let himself be helped into the saddle. He nearly slid off the other side of the horse. The shards of returning circulation had subsided to the level of his knees, but pain still stabbed at his toes, and he could scarcely feel the stirrups.
He steadied himself and relaxed into the saddle, grateful that the horse would do most of the work.
In moments, they left the campsite, headed back into the trees. They followed a suggestion of a path that ran up hill through the woods beside the creek. The trail was so faint that only someone who knew the path would find it. Ducking under low branches kept him busy until they emerged onto a plateau. They skirted the edge of the plain, with the drop-off growing ever steeper until around mid-day they arrived at a skinny switch-back leading down into the area surrounding Yellow Stone Lake.
The switchback — Ev preferred to think of it as a goat track, for only a mountain goat could follow the trail with any degree of security — required all his riding skills. Remaining seated was a challenge, with his hands linked behind him and the horse jolting and twisting over the rocky surface. Far below the track disappeared into more trees.
“I know easier ways to get to Yellow Stone Lake,” he groused more to needle his captors than because he believed they should have taken a different route.
“So does everyone else who might follow us,” Wildcat stated. “Besides, this trail may be more difficult, but it’s put us two days ahead of anyone who doesn’t know about it. They’ll all have to detour south, before swinging back to follow the Snake north until they turn off for the lake. Then, since they won’t know exactly where along the shore we intend to camp, they’ll have to skirt the lake, which can be treacherous. By the time anyone gets to the Shoshone campsite, I’ll be long gone.”
The woman was no fool and knew exactly how dangerous her situation was. Those other pursuers would probably shoot her on sight. Traveling with a dead criminal was a whole lot easier that toting a live suspect back for the reward.
• • •
Along about sunset they emerged from the trees onto a small prairie that marched right up to the shore of the lake. At the northern most end of the prairie, where trees and rocky outcroppings blocked the worst of the wind coming off the lake sat a Shoshone encampment.
As the party rode into the center of the camp, people emerged from every tipi. Several small groups came running from the woods and the shoreline. Soon the horses were surrounded by so many Shoshone that the travelers came to a halt.
The crowd parted for three elders to approach. A quiet conversation was held with the man called Muh’Weda. Wildcat answered a few questions. Then the crowd dispersed. The woman handed Ev’s horse over to her friend and rode out of sight around a
The Shoshone dismounted, handed his reins to Wildcat then manhandled Ev to his feet.
“Let’s get you mounted, Marshal.” The man hauled Ev over to his horse and held the stirrup for him to place his left foot.
Ev gave two second’s thought to causing a ruckus, just to slow the thieves down. With hands manacled behind, he knew he wasn’t going to get free, but maybe he could make it possible for the army or the posse to catch up. Then he remembered that blanket and the makeshift pillow. Dangit all, why’d she have to go and do something thoughtful? Made her human, even if she was crazy, and he didn’t want to think of her as anything but a criminal suspect.
“I can sling you across that saddle, if you’d prefer being carried to riding.”
The Indian’s steady stare told Ev he’d better make up his mind, so he lifted his foot and let himself be helped into the saddle. He nearly slid off the other side of the horse. The shards of returning circulation had subsided to the level of his knees, but pain still stabbed at his toes, and he could scarcely feel the stirrups.
He steadied himself and relaxed into the saddle, grateful that the horse would do most of the work.
In moments, they left the campsite, headed back into the trees. They followed a suggestion of a path that ran up hill through the woods beside the creek. The trail was so faint that only someone who knew the path would find it. Ducking under low branches kept him busy until they emerged onto a plateau. They skirted the edge of the plain, with the drop-off growing ever steeper until around mid-day they arrived at a skinny switch-back leading down into the area surrounding Yellow Stone Lake.
The switchback — Ev preferred to think of it as a goat track, for only a mountain goat could follow the trail with any degree of security — required all his riding skills. Remaining seated was a challenge, with his hands linked behind him and the horse jolting and twisting over the rocky surface. Far below the track disappeared into more trees.
“I know easier ways to get to Yellow Stone Lake,” he groused more to needle his captors than because he believed they should have taken a different route.
“So does everyone else who might follow us,” Wildcat stated. “Besides, this trail may be more difficult, but it’s put us two days ahead of anyone who doesn’t know about it. They’ll all have to detour south, before swinging back to follow the Snake north until they turn off for the lake. Then, since they won’t know exactly where along the shore we intend to camp, they’ll have to skirt the lake, which can be treacherous. By the time anyone gets to the Shoshone campsite, I’ll be long gone.”
The woman was no fool and knew exactly how dangerous her situation was. Those other pursuers would probably shoot her on sight. Traveling with a dead criminal was a whole lot easier that toting a live suspect back for the reward.
• • •
Along about sunset they emerged from the trees onto a small prairie that marched right up to the shore of the lake. At the northern most end of the prairie, where trees and rocky outcroppings blocked the worst of the wind coming off the lake sat a Shoshone encampment.
As the party rode into the center of the camp, people emerged from every tipi. Several small groups came running from the woods and the shoreline. Soon the horses were surrounded by so many Shoshone that the travelers came to a halt.
The crowd parted for three elders to approach. A quiet conversation was held with the man called Muh’Weda. Wildcat answered a few questions. Then the crowd dispersed. The woman handed Ev’s horse over to her friend and rode out of sight around a
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