would return her even if he paid the ransom. The chances that they would try to pull a double cross were high. If that happened, Conrad was going to be ready for them, or at least he was going to try to be. He would have felt a lot better about his chances if he’d had his father siding him.
But he had known for years that he wouldn’t always have Frank Morgan to help him. The time had come for him to grow up and handle his own problems. Stomp his own snakes, as Frank would put it.
He opened the bundle he had brought from the clothing store and laid out his purchases on the bed in the spare room. He had bought a pair of black whipcord trousers and a black bib-front shirt, as well as a flat-crowned black Stetson. He already owned a pair of black, high-topped boots. At the gunsmith’s shop, he had picked up a holster and cartridge belt of fine black leather. If it was necessary, he wanted to be able to blend into the shadows. The black outfit would make that easier. He planned to wear it underneath his regular clothes. The gunbelt would be in the buggy, along with a Winchester and his shotgun.
The kidnappers would be expecting a scared, inexperienced Easterner. That was what Conrad would give them—up to a point. But if they went back on the deal, or if Rebel was hurt in any way…
Then the man they would have to deal with would be someone else entirely.
Lasswell was beginning to wonder if the payoff would be worth it. He’d hardly had a moment’s peace since they’d snatched that crazy bitch out of her house the night before.
At the moment, she was tied and gagged, the first time she had been quiet for more than a minute or two. For a gal who was married to a rich businessman from back East, she could cuss like a Texas cowboy who’d been following a trail herd and eating dust all the way to Kansas. Lasswell knew that for a fact, because he had been a cowboy just like that, years earlier as a kid, before he’d decided that following the owlhoot trail was more to his liking.
It was dangerous to get too close to her, too. Clem Baggott had made that mistake. Mrs. Browning had gotten her teeth fastened on his left ear and damn near ripped it off his head before Carlson pulled her away from him. Carlson had taken advantage of the opportunity to run his hands over her breasts, and she had repaid him by twisting around and kicking him in the balls. Howling in pain, Carlson had backhanded her and knocked her a good ten feet. When Abel Dean and Spence Hooper rushed over to grab her and keep her from getting away, she’d hauled off and punched Spence in the face hard enough to break his nose. Gant and White Rock had had to pile on as well to bring her under control.
And that was just getting her out of the house and onto a horse.
By the time they were able to ride away from there, Lasswell had gotten pretty worried that the law would show up. That didn’t happen, though, and he started to think that maybe nobody had heard that shot after all.
Their camp was at the foot of the bluff that loomed over Black Rock Canyon. Finding the place in the dark was difficult, but Lasswell had been over the ground enough in the past few days so that he was able to do it. Once they got there, he had told Mrs. Browning that they would leave her legs untied and not gag her if she would promise to behave. Not only had she not made that promise, she had told him to go to hell and then do something physically impossible once he got there. Lasswell had never run into a woman quite like her.
Her hair had come loose from its upswept curls and hung in disarray around her face. Her eyes burned with anger and hatred, and Lasswell knew by looking at her that if she had been loose and had a gun in her hand, he’d be a dead man by now. They’d all be dead if she had her way.
If he had been thirty years younger, he thought, he could come damn near falling in love with a woman like Rebel Browning.
Sure made him sorry about what was going to
But he had known for years that he wouldn’t always have Frank Morgan to help him. The time had come for him to grow up and handle his own problems. Stomp his own snakes, as Frank would put it.
He opened the bundle he had brought from the clothing store and laid out his purchases on the bed in the spare room. He had bought a pair of black whipcord trousers and a black bib-front shirt, as well as a flat-crowned black Stetson. He already owned a pair of black, high-topped boots. At the gunsmith’s shop, he had picked up a holster and cartridge belt of fine black leather. If it was necessary, he wanted to be able to blend into the shadows. The black outfit would make that easier. He planned to wear it underneath his regular clothes. The gunbelt would be in the buggy, along with a Winchester and his shotgun.
The kidnappers would be expecting a scared, inexperienced Easterner. That was what Conrad would give them—up to a point. But if they went back on the deal, or if Rebel was hurt in any way…
Then the man they would have to deal with would be someone else entirely.
Lasswell was beginning to wonder if the payoff would be worth it. He’d hardly had a moment’s peace since they’d snatched that crazy bitch out of her house the night before.
At the moment, she was tied and gagged, the first time she had been quiet for more than a minute or two. For a gal who was married to a rich businessman from back East, she could cuss like a Texas cowboy who’d been following a trail herd and eating dust all the way to Kansas. Lasswell knew that for a fact, because he had been a cowboy just like that, years earlier as a kid, before he’d decided that following the owlhoot trail was more to his liking.
It was dangerous to get too close to her, too. Clem Baggott had made that mistake. Mrs. Browning had gotten her teeth fastened on his left ear and damn near ripped it off his head before Carlson pulled her away from him. Carlson had taken advantage of the opportunity to run his hands over her breasts, and she had repaid him by twisting around and kicking him in the balls. Howling in pain, Carlson had backhanded her and knocked her a good ten feet. When Abel Dean and Spence Hooper rushed over to grab her and keep her from getting away, she’d hauled off and punched Spence in the face hard enough to break his nose. Gant and White Rock had had to pile on as well to bring her under control.
And that was just getting her out of the house and onto a horse.
By the time they were able to ride away from there, Lasswell had gotten pretty worried that the law would show up. That didn’t happen, though, and he started to think that maybe nobody had heard that shot after all.
Their camp was at the foot of the bluff that loomed over Black Rock Canyon. Finding the place in the dark was difficult, but Lasswell had been over the ground enough in the past few days so that he was able to do it. Once they got there, he had told Mrs. Browning that they would leave her legs untied and not gag her if she would promise to behave. Not only had she not made that promise, she had told him to go to hell and then do something physically impossible once he got there. Lasswell had never run into a woman quite like her.
Her hair had come loose from its upswept curls and hung in disarray around her face. Her eyes burned with anger and hatred, and Lasswell knew by looking at her that if she had been loose and had a gun in her hand, he’d be a dead man by now. They’d all be dead if she had her way.
If he had been thirty years younger, he thought, he could come damn near falling in love with a woman like Rebel Browning.
Sure made him sorry about what was going to
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