Frontier Courtship by Valerie Hansen Page B

the reflection of a shiny object in his hand. Faith’s pistol! His heart sank. He’d left Rojo behind in a ravine so he could sneak up on the abductors more easily and his Hawken was still in its scabbard. That left only his .44, a much less accurate weapon than the rifle, even under the best of conditions. Which these were not.
    It was dark except for the scattered clusters of lightning flashes. Rain was falling in bursts, as if someone were emptying buckets on him from above.
    Connell knew if he chanced a shot and missed, the man with the gun would fire, likely hitting Faith. Yet if he waited until he was within better range, it might be too late. Unless…
    Using a trick he’d learned from Little Rabbit Woman’s people, he pulled his hunting knife and began to slice off thick bunches of grama grass. The idea was to make his swiftly moving shadow resemble a large, dangerous animal like a mad buffalo.
    It would have been much better to use a real animal’s hide but he’d left that behind, as well, so a substitute would have to do. The ploy didn’t have to fool anyone for long. It was meant only as a delaying tactic and a way to get closer to Faith and the men.
    Growling, snorting and making as much animal noise as he could, Connell started off at a dead run toward the three people. He was counting on surprise to keep them from firing at him. He was wrong.
    Wheeling, Stuart squeezed off a shot. The bullet whizzed through the grama grass bundles. Connell dropped them, hit the ground, rolled away in the darkness and sprang to his feet with the speed and agility of a pronghorn antelope.
    Plunging headlong into the danger ahead, he raced over the wet ground as if he knew every inch of it and with no thought of personal risk. This was the way the Native People felt about the land, about nature, he realized. It had been literally years since he’d sensed such a oneness with a Greater Power and it made him feel almost invincible.
    There was no time to pause and draw his .44. Stuart was turning back to Faith and bringing the gun to bear.
    With a soul-deep roar of rage, Connell lived up to his nickname and launched himself into the air with a mighty leap, his arms reaching like a hawk’s talons for its prey.
    Stuart’s scream was cut off by the attack almost before it began. He fell beneath Connell. The Colt flew from his hand to disappear in the mire.
    A soggy, muddy mess in spite of the heavy slicker, Faith scrambled to her feet and pushed her limp hair out of her eyes with her hands. The furor died down in mere moments. “I can’t believe you found me out here in the middle of nowhere. How did you do it?” she asked, sounding amazed.
    Connell shook his head. “It was just a feeling I had. I guess you could say the Good Lord sent me.”
    “I don’t doubt that. I’ve been asking Jesus to send help ever since these two grabbed me.”
    “Well, I guess He heard you because here I am.” Connell got to his feet and gazed down at the muddy, disheveled woman. “Are you all right?”
    “I think so.” She managed a smile. “Stuart, I see. What happened to Ab?”
    “I’m right here,” the weasely man squeaked. His hands were raised high over his head and he was trembling visibly as he edged closer. “D-don’t shoot.”
    It was a natural reflex for Connell to reach for his pistol anyway. Faith stayed his hand. “No. Don’t. He tried to help me. Even made up a story that he’d heard I had supernatural powers.” She brightened. “And he says he helped your Irene, too.”
    “What?”
    Grabbing him by the upper arms, Connell lifted Ab overhead, gave him a mighty shake and held him there while rain cascaded off him like the headwaters of the Mississippi.
    “I did. I helped her,” the little man sputtered.
    Connell wasn’t convinced. “Prove it.”
    “She’s…she’s with the Arapaho. I took her there myself, I swear.”
    “When?”
    “Last year, when the wagons came through these here parts. Tucker married