pulled her floppy hat down over her face. “Ya’ll be quiet now. An old woman needs her beauty sleep.”
Starnes laughed soundlessly, winking at Peyton, then leaned back against his saddle to finish up the cup of coffee in his hand.
After awhile he heard Peyton say quietly, “I don’t think they’ll take Sloan to the ranch. He wouldn’t want anyone to know about him.”
“Especially not the law,” Snake grumbled.
“So where do you think they’ll take him?” Starnes asked.
Peyton had obviously been contemplating that. She lay on her bedroll facing him, propped up on her elbow, her hooded eyes staring at the blanket. “My guess would be one of the line shacks along the southern part of Papa’s land. It’s the most remote and there’s less chance of anyone happening by.” She glanced up at him. “I once heard a ranch hand telling another one that Papa took someone out there to have a long talk with him.” She shuddered and looked down again. “I don’t think talking was really what was being done.”
“How many shacks you talking about?” Snake asked from beneath her hat.
“Four, five,” Peyton said with a listless shrug. “Maybe more. But there’s one in particular I have a feeling is where they’ll take him. Papa took me out to it when he was teaching me how to drive a buggy. It’s secluded, at the very end of the property.”
“We’ll look there first, then,” Starnes said.
“And hope we ain’t too late,” Snake was heard to whisper.
Chapter Five
With only three hours of sleep, Starnes woke the women and told them they could possibly make up at least an hour on the lead Harper’s abductors had on them. “We’ll stop at the next village to change horses and get a hot meal if we’re lucky.”
“Fried eggs would sure hit the spot,” Snake said as she began saddling her mount.
Peyton was quiet as she went about the same chore. She had refused Starnes help in lifting her saddle, telling him she had to learn to do it on her own.
Before long they were riding out, the chill of the morning air refreshing them and helping to keep them awake. There was another hint of coming rain so they picked up their pace, hoping to reach shelter before the deluge started.
* * * *
Harper grunted as the boot connected with the small of his back. He rolled over on his belly to avoid another vicious hit. His ankles were untied, but lack of food, sleep, and laying on the hard ground had worn him down so he didn’t have the energy to attempt running.
“Get the hell up,” Elliott ordered.
It was barely light, but the outlaw leader was enraged that he and his men had overslept. He had found the guard dozing and that had further pissed him off. A brutal jab had punished the transgressor and that man was sullenly saddling Elliott’s horse for his lack of diligence.
Within fifteen minutes the quartet of horses were galloping away from the campsite, the first few sprinkles of rain slashing at Harper’s face as he rode. The others had slickers and had donned them before saddling up, but he had nothing--not even a hat--to protect him from the sting of the water hitting him. Before long, his shirt was plastered to him and he was miserable, shivering in the cold morning air. It was all he could do to hold onto the pommel with his bound hands, leaning low over the horse’s neck.
Because of time lost, they were only twenty miles ahead of Peyton, Snake and Starnes--an easy day’s ride for fresh horses.
* * * *
Peyton eyed the big black gelding and shrugged. “I can ride him,” she said, “but getting the saddle up on his back ….”
“I’ll do that,” Starnes broke in. “How ‘bout you and Snake fetching us the chow while I see to the horses?”
Nodding her agreement, Peyton headed for the cantina where a disgruntled proprietor had awakened to Starnes’ loud knocking. The man’s grossly overweight wife was busy making tortillas that Snake had insisted would be good
Starnes laughed soundlessly, winking at Peyton, then leaned back against his saddle to finish up the cup of coffee in his hand.
After awhile he heard Peyton say quietly, “I don’t think they’ll take Sloan to the ranch. He wouldn’t want anyone to know about him.”
“Especially not the law,” Snake grumbled.
“So where do you think they’ll take him?” Starnes asked.
Peyton had obviously been contemplating that. She lay on her bedroll facing him, propped up on her elbow, her hooded eyes staring at the blanket. “My guess would be one of the line shacks along the southern part of Papa’s land. It’s the most remote and there’s less chance of anyone happening by.” She glanced up at him. “I once heard a ranch hand telling another one that Papa took someone out there to have a long talk with him.” She shuddered and looked down again. “I don’t think talking was really what was being done.”
“How many shacks you talking about?” Snake asked from beneath her hat.
“Four, five,” Peyton said with a listless shrug. “Maybe more. But there’s one in particular I have a feeling is where they’ll take him. Papa took me out to it when he was teaching me how to drive a buggy. It’s secluded, at the very end of the property.”
“We’ll look there first, then,” Starnes said.
“And hope we ain’t too late,” Snake was heard to whisper.
Chapter Five
With only three hours of sleep, Starnes woke the women and told them they could possibly make up at least an hour on the lead Harper’s abductors had on them. “We’ll stop at the next village to change horses and get a hot meal if we’re lucky.”
“Fried eggs would sure hit the spot,” Snake said as she began saddling her mount.
Peyton was quiet as she went about the same chore. She had refused Starnes help in lifting her saddle, telling him she had to learn to do it on her own.
Before long they were riding out, the chill of the morning air refreshing them and helping to keep them awake. There was another hint of coming rain so they picked up their pace, hoping to reach shelter before the deluge started.
* * * *
Harper grunted as the boot connected with the small of his back. He rolled over on his belly to avoid another vicious hit. His ankles were untied, but lack of food, sleep, and laying on the hard ground had worn him down so he didn’t have the energy to attempt running.
“Get the hell up,” Elliott ordered.
It was barely light, but the outlaw leader was enraged that he and his men had overslept. He had found the guard dozing and that had further pissed him off. A brutal jab had punished the transgressor and that man was sullenly saddling Elliott’s horse for his lack of diligence.
Within fifteen minutes the quartet of horses were galloping away from the campsite, the first few sprinkles of rain slashing at Harper’s face as he rode. The others had slickers and had donned them before saddling up, but he had nothing--not even a hat--to protect him from the sting of the water hitting him. Before long, his shirt was plastered to him and he was miserable, shivering in the cold morning air. It was all he could do to hold onto the pommel with his bound hands, leaning low over the horse’s neck.
Because of time lost, they were only twenty miles ahead of Peyton, Snake and Starnes--an easy day’s ride for fresh horses.
* * * *
Peyton eyed the big black gelding and shrugged. “I can ride him,” she said, “but getting the saddle up on his back ….”
“I’ll do that,” Starnes broke in. “How ‘bout you and Snake fetching us the chow while I see to the horses?”
Nodding her agreement, Peyton headed for the cantina where a disgruntled proprietor had awakened to Starnes’ loud knocking. The man’s grossly overweight wife was busy making tortillas that Snake had insisted would be good
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