shoulder. The force and suddenness of her stop nearly sent her reeling backwards again. Shocking pain shot up her side.
“Walk,” he instructed her, his voice as clear and insistent as a schoolmarm scolding a small child. “Not run.”
There was no way she could run, not with the renegade’s paw clamped down on her shoulder. Her mind raced frantically to decide on some course of action—how could she warn Will of the danger he was about to step into? What could she do?
She considered briefly doing as Trip had done and shouting out a warning. But if Will was safe, she didn’t want to alert Night Bird to there being another person in their party. Keeping silent, she stumbled ahead to their camp, praying she would find the others alive. Night Bird couldn’t be acting alone. Trip had yelled out his warning after she had heard someone nearby. That someone had to have been Night Bird.
Unless it had been Will…Through her fear, that small hope sparked and kindled. Will might still be out there somewhere, safe. And as long as he was alive and they were alive, he might be able to save them. He could go for help, or he could bust in on the camp and—
In a split second, her hope died. Night Bird pushed her forward into the light of the campfire that Trip had built, and Paulie saw what she thought then was about the grimmest sight she’d ever seen. Three bandits stood loitering about the edges of the light, the barrels of their guns glinting in the firelight. Their charges, with hands tied behind their backs and legs bound at the ankle and thrust straight ahead of them as they sat upright on the ground, were Oat, Trip, and Will.
Will’s gaze met hers. She could read the anguish and disappointment in his face so clearly she felt as if someone had stabbed her in the heart. She had let him down. She had been the only one free when she’d heard Trip’s warningMaybe if she had taken another second and run the other way, she could have helped them all.
The thought made her angry. Angry at herself, and angry at the man behind her, who had outwitted them all, waiting for precisely the right time to ambush them. Oat, who looked surprisingly cool now when face-to-face with his dreaded nemesis, had been right after all. Night Bird had crept up on them silently, even with his three colleagues. She might have been impressed if she weren’t so mad.
But she was mad. Madder than hell. And suddenly, she knew she had to strike a blow for their ill-fated search party, no matter how insignificant it might seem. She turned and did something she never would have done if she’d been thinking clearly.
She glared at Night Bird, the most notorious renegade roaming the Southwestern United States, and with all her might, she kneed him, hard, in the groin.
Chapter Six
W ill gritted his teeth and glared at the bandits hovering around the fire. He and his friends had been tied up for hours. For the fifth time the three Mexicans were counting the money they had emptied out of their hostages’ pockets, while Night Bird stood a little apart, frowning at his men as if he were above actually caring how much they had stolen.
It wasn’t that Will minded having his money taken—although that was indignity enough. What really bothered him was this feeling of helplessness, and his knowledge that he had let the others down. He had thought he was the most adept of the four of them at survival, but while he had been out patroling, supposedly for the protection of the people he was leading, Night Bird had walked right into camp and taken them with no trouble. Now they were all in dire straits, and the only thing Will was certain of was that Night Bird would have to kill him first before he harmed one of his friends.
A glance at the others told him they were in various stages of panic, all except Oat. The old man just looked resigned. As well he probably should. So far there had been no sign of Mary Ann, which couldn’t be a good omen. Tripappeared
“Walk,” he instructed her, his voice as clear and insistent as a schoolmarm scolding a small child. “Not run.”
There was no way she could run, not with the renegade’s paw clamped down on her shoulder. Her mind raced frantically to decide on some course of action—how could she warn Will of the danger he was about to step into? What could she do?
She considered briefly doing as Trip had done and shouting out a warning. But if Will was safe, she didn’t want to alert Night Bird to there being another person in their party. Keeping silent, she stumbled ahead to their camp, praying she would find the others alive. Night Bird couldn’t be acting alone. Trip had yelled out his warning after she had heard someone nearby. That someone had to have been Night Bird.
Unless it had been Will…Through her fear, that small hope sparked and kindled. Will might still be out there somewhere, safe. And as long as he was alive and they were alive, he might be able to save them. He could go for help, or he could bust in on the camp and—
In a split second, her hope died. Night Bird pushed her forward into the light of the campfire that Trip had built, and Paulie saw what she thought then was about the grimmest sight she’d ever seen. Three bandits stood loitering about the edges of the light, the barrels of their guns glinting in the firelight. Their charges, with hands tied behind their backs and legs bound at the ankle and thrust straight ahead of them as they sat upright on the ground, were Oat, Trip, and Will.
Will’s gaze met hers. She could read the anguish and disappointment in his face so clearly she felt as if someone had stabbed her in the heart. She had let him down. She had been the only one free when she’d heard Trip’s warningMaybe if she had taken another second and run the other way, she could have helped them all.
The thought made her angry. Angry at herself, and angry at the man behind her, who had outwitted them all, waiting for precisely the right time to ambush them. Oat, who looked surprisingly cool now when face-to-face with his dreaded nemesis, had been right after all. Night Bird had crept up on them silently, even with his three colleagues. She might have been impressed if she weren’t so mad.
But she was mad. Madder than hell. And suddenly, she knew she had to strike a blow for their ill-fated search party, no matter how insignificant it might seem. She turned and did something she never would have done if she’d been thinking clearly.
She glared at Night Bird, the most notorious renegade roaming the Southwestern United States, and with all her might, she kneed him, hard, in the groin.
Chapter Six
W ill gritted his teeth and glared at the bandits hovering around the fire. He and his friends had been tied up for hours. For the fifth time the three Mexicans were counting the money they had emptied out of their hostages’ pockets, while Night Bird stood a little apart, frowning at his men as if he were above actually caring how much they had stolen.
It wasn’t that Will minded having his money taken—although that was indignity enough. What really bothered him was this feeling of helplessness, and his knowledge that he had let the others down. He had thought he was the most adept of the four of them at survival, but while he had been out patroling, supposedly for the protection of the people he was leading, Night Bird had walked right into camp and taken them with no trouble. Now they were all in dire straits, and the only thing Will was certain of was that Night Bird would have to kill him first before he harmed one of his friends.
A glance at the others told him they were in various stages of panic, all except Oat. The old man just looked resigned. As well he probably should. So far there had been no sign of Mary Ann, which couldn’t be a good omen. Tripappeared
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