He knew damn well that Ordell wouldnât leave any tracks if he didnât want to. Besides, the woods were such a mess of fallen branches, logs, leaves and animal tracks that Clint doubted he could find his pocket watch if he dropped it. Trying to pick out one manâs trail would have been like trying to find a specific needle in a stack of more needles.
To that end, Clint tried to move as quickly as he could while doing his best to keep from being spotted himself. As he traveled, he kept a weapon in his hand at all times. Whether it was his rifle or pistol, Clint was always armed and expecting to be approached at any second.
There was no telling if Ordell was still in a sociable mood. At the end of the day, Clint still wanted to straighten out what heâd heard before simply believing it all and gunning for Ordell like those whoâd already taken on that job.
Before leaving town, Clint had asked around a few places and found out that the mountain man and his two Indian partners had headed in the same direction that Clint had chosen. When he heard the snapping of twigs coming from somewhere ahead, Clint brought Eclipse to a stop and listened.
Sure enough, he heard a few horses stomping over what had to be some fallen logs. Clint wrapped Eclipseâs reins loosely around a tree and circled around the source of those sounds. Just as he was about to take another step, he spotted a section of bushes moving against the flow of the wind.
He crouched down behind a tree trunk and froze.
That subtle bit of movement, which didnât match the way the rest of the bushes were moving, had been enough to mark the spot where one of the Indians stepped onto the narrow trail. He was the bigger of the two that had been with the mountain man and he stalked through the bushes like a creature half his size.
Clint had to hold his breath and focus on moving nothing more than his eyelids as he peeked around the tree. His muscles tensed and his heart sped up at the notion that he might be discovered any second. The Indian, however, moved effortlessly from one spot to another, gazing around with sharply focused eyes.
As Clint watched him, he remembered the mountain man calling that Indian Crow. As if living up to his name, the Indian glided past a branch where other birds were nesting without making enough noise to even draw their attention.
Clintâs grip tightened around his rifle as Crow stepped behind one tree and practically disappeared from sight. When Crow reappeared, he was holding a tomahawk in his hand while carefully studying a spot not too far from where Clint was hiding.
And, like a bird that suddenly decided to take flight, Crow snapped his head in another direction and was gone.
Clint didnât dare move right away. For all he knew, Crow was circling around him from another direction. Possibly, the Indian was gathering up his partners before making his move. Or maybe heâd already moved along to another spot.
Clint still wasnât sure whether or not the mountain man and his partners could be trusted. He didnât even know what they might do if they spotted him. What he did know was that they would be a lot more use to him if Clint could see what they were doing without them knowing they were being watched.
More importantly, Clintâs instinct told him to give those men a wide berth unless he wanted another fight. Theyâd already stepped up to him once with guns drawn. The next time was bound to end up a whole lot messier.
Clint had plenty of time to think about these things while waiting to hear or see another sign of Crow. All he heard was the wind rustling through the trees and all he saw was hundreds of branches swaying to a rhythm of their own.
TWENTY-THREE
As Clint headed back to where heâd left Eclipse, he stayed low and kept his rifle at the ready. The Darley Arabian was waiting patiently as if he knew only too well how important it was that he stay quiet. Eclipse barely
To that end, Clint tried to move as quickly as he could while doing his best to keep from being spotted himself. As he traveled, he kept a weapon in his hand at all times. Whether it was his rifle or pistol, Clint was always armed and expecting to be approached at any second.
There was no telling if Ordell was still in a sociable mood. At the end of the day, Clint still wanted to straighten out what heâd heard before simply believing it all and gunning for Ordell like those whoâd already taken on that job.
Before leaving town, Clint had asked around a few places and found out that the mountain man and his two Indian partners had headed in the same direction that Clint had chosen. When he heard the snapping of twigs coming from somewhere ahead, Clint brought Eclipse to a stop and listened.
Sure enough, he heard a few horses stomping over what had to be some fallen logs. Clint wrapped Eclipseâs reins loosely around a tree and circled around the source of those sounds. Just as he was about to take another step, he spotted a section of bushes moving against the flow of the wind.
He crouched down behind a tree trunk and froze.
That subtle bit of movement, which didnât match the way the rest of the bushes were moving, had been enough to mark the spot where one of the Indians stepped onto the narrow trail. He was the bigger of the two that had been with the mountain man and he stalked through the bushes like a creature half his size.
Clint had to hold his breath and focus on moving nothing more than his eyelids as he peeked around the tree. His muscles tensed and his heart sped up at the notion that he might be discovered any second. The Indian, however, moved effortlessly from one spot to another, gazing around with sharply focused eyes.
As Clint watched him, he remembered the mountain man calling that Indian Crow. As if living up to his name, the Indian glided past a branch where other birds were nesting without making enough noise to even draw their attention.
Clintâs grip tightened around his rifle as Crow stepped behind one tree and practically disappeared from sight. When Crow reappeared, he was holding a tomahawk in his hand while carefully studying a spot not too far from where Clint was hiding.
And, like a bird that suddenly decided to take flight, Crow snapped his head in another direction and was gone.
Clint didnât dare move right away. For all he knew, Crow was circling around him from another direction. Possibly, the Indian was gathering up his partners before making his move. Or maybe heâd already moved along to another spot.
Clint still wasnât sure whether or not the mountain man and his partners could be trusted. He didnât even know what they might do if they spotted him. What he did know was that they would be a lot more use to him if Clint could see what they were doing without them knowing they were being watched.
More importantly, Clintâs instinct told him to give those men a wide berth unless he wanted another fight. Theyâd already stepped up to him once with guns drawn. The next time was bound to end up a whole lot messier.
Clint had plenty of time to think about these things while waiting to hear or see another sign of Crow. All he heard was the wind rustling through the trees and all he saw was hundreds of branches swaying to a rhythm of their own.
TWENTY-THREE
As Clint headed back to where heâd left Eclipse, he stayed low and kept his rifle at the ready. The Darley Arabian was waiting patiently as if he knew only too well how important it was that he stay quiet. Eclipse barely
Similar Books
