Tracie Peterson (5 page)

Five

A
ll his life, Jim Williams had only one desire. That was to get his own piece of the world and make something of himself. Now, at twenty-six, he was beginning to wonder if that day would ever come.

Even though the night air bore an unmistakable chill from the high-coun
try snows, Jim felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead. He’d taken the wrong woman! To Zandy, he could have explained that it wasn’t kidnapping. He’d meant no harm and had only the best of intentions, but how could he tell this to the angry young woman who sat at his fire?

There was no answer in the wind as it blew across his face. There was no reasoning the matter away. When he’d first given thought to the plan of taking Zandy, he’d stopped thinking once he got past the taking part. He’d not even given himself a reasonable plan of action for how they might disentangle themselves from Riley Dawson’s wrath once he realized his wife was gone.

Grimacing, Jim kicked at a fallen pine log. “Poor Zandy,” he thought aloud. “I sentenced her to a life of misery, and all because I chose to believe what everyone was saying about her.”

His memory reminded him that he had seen her leave Riley’s house before dawn. That was the morning after Zandy’s father had suffered injury in a mining accident.

Jim had presumed that Zandy had spent the night with Riley after fetching the doctor for her father. It wasn’t until just recently he’d learned from one of his old buddies that Riley had actually drugged Zandy with the intention of ruining her reputation once and for all. A low growl escaped him as he relived the moment Pat Folkes had informed him of the truth.

He was too late to take back the time Zandy had been forced to spend as Riley’s wife, but he’d hoped that he could rectify his angry dismissal and betrayal of their friendship by rescuing her now. But now he had some other woman in his care. A very beautiful woman named Pamela Charbonneau with dark blue eyes that flashed electrically when she was mad.

With a heavy sigh, Jim made his way back to camp. There was nothing to do but apologize and take her back. Hopefully, she’d understand and get over it before they reached Dawson. Jim had no desire to have to answer to the law for his ill-planned scheme.

He reentered the camp silently and came upon Pamela from behind. She heard a muffled sound and turned, as if fearfully expecting to find a wild beast bearing down upon her. Seeing it was Jim, Pamela pulled the blanket down tight around her face.

Jim felt at a loss for words as he took a seat on the ground opposite Pamela. He waited, hoping that she might say something, but when she continued to ignore him, Jim finally spoke.

“Look, I’m sorry for taking you. I hadn’t planned it that way. I thought you were Zandy. I just wanted to rescue her.” He was trying to offer the most sincere apology he could, but the young woman refused to give him even the slightest consideration.

“Did you hear me?” Jim questioned, irritation edging his voice. He fought for self-control in the face of her silence.

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say that I haven’t already said. I’ll take you back at first light, but for now we’re stuck here.”

Pamela kept her face hidden and remained silent, leaving Jim infuriated.

“All right,” he said in complete exasperation. “If that’s the way you want it, that’s the way it’ll be.” He sauntered over to his saddle and dragged out the rest of his bedroll before plopping down on the ground.

“Remember what I said. We’ll leave here at first light, so you’d better get some sleep.”

❧

In the early morning light, Jim stared down at the child-like woman. Her blond hair had come undone and spilled out from the blanket like a veil. The blanket itself had slipped down far enough to reveal her delicate face in sleep. She had long pale lashes and a pert, almost tiny mouth that Jim remembered, with a shudder, could let go with a most impressive assault of words.

Kneeling down beside her, Jim was struck for a moment by Pamela’s seeming frailty. She was so small, he thought. Petite by the standards of most women. How could he have thought she was Zandy? Zandy was at least a head taller and her hair was dark, not golden like ripening grain.

Jim shook his head. What was he doing? Reaching over, he gently shook her shoulder.

“Go away,” she muttered and rolled to her other side. The blanket fell away revealing her disheveled state. Her once white blouse was now dirt stained and pulled out from the waist of her tailored burgundy skirt. The skirt itself had ridden up to give Jim a view of silken ankles and dainty satin slippers.

Now he was really disturbed. Seeking to rid himself of his attraction to her, Jim gave Pamela’s arm a firm smack and jumped back.

“What are you doing?” Pamela exclaimed, coming up from the ground. She got to her feet and whirled around to face her attacker. “Are you now going to beat me?”

Jim laughed. “At least you’re talking to me. Come on. I’ve got breakfast ready, and we’ll be riding out of here in about fifteen minutes.”

Pamela put her nose in the air and turned away. “I shan’t eat anything you provide.” She moved away with a regal step that was almost amusing, given her state of disarray.

“My grub is the only grub here,” Jim said with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Suit yourself, but it’s going to take us most of the day to get back to
Dawson.”

Pamela seemed to come wide awake at once. “Are we really so far away?” She had thought their ride only a short one.

“We rode for over eight hours. Even if the pace wasn’t always very fast,” Jim admitted, “it was steady.”

Pamela frowned, then noticed her hair. “Oh my,” she murmured. “My hair!”

Jim grinned. “Looks fine. I’m just sorry my blanket got you so dirty.”

Pamela hadn’t noticed the stains on her clothes, nor the way her blouse hung outside her skirt. A gasp escaped her lips as she fought to put everything aright at the same time.

Jim chuckled and walked over to where the coffee steamed aromatically from a worn pot. “Coffee?”

Pamela shook her head vigorously. “I prefer tea, but I suppose you don’t have any.”

“No, you got that right,” Jim replied. “I do have cold biscuits and jerked beef. I know you’re used to better, but it’s filling.” Reluctantly, she gave in and, after combing her fingers through her hair, joined Jim.

Pamela ate silently while Jim watched her for a moment. In spite of her desire for tea, she eventually took a cup of coffee in order to wash down the biscuit.

Jim could stand the silence no more. He pressed forward to ease his curiosity by asking her questions. “Why did you come so willingly with me? Why didn’t you fight?”

“I thought,” she finally answered, “that you were someone else.”

“That’s right,” Jim remembered. “You kept mentioning some other guy. Bradley, wasn’t it?”

Pamela nodded. “Yes. Bradley Rayburn, the man I love.”

Jim digested the information for a moment. “Is he your intended?”

“I hope so,” Pamela said miserably. “It’s been so long since we’ve been together, he may well have forgotten me by now.”

“A man would have a difficult time doing that,” Jim mused aloud.

Pamela gave him a quizzical look, then continued. “My parents separat
ed us. I thought perhaps Bradley had come to take me away. When you said you’d come to rescue me, what else was I to think?”

“So you just climbed on the first horse offered, mindless of the danger and stormed off into the night?”

Pamela glared at Jim and narrowed her eyes. Again Jim noticed how blue they were. “I thought you were Bradley! I wanted you to be,” she added in a wistful voice.

“Well, I guess I can sympathize with that,” Jim answered. Seeing that Pamela had finished her fare and that the sun was even now peeking up over the snowy eastern range, Jim started collecting his things. “We’d best be on our way.”



Pamela stood uncomfortably and frowned. “I would like a moment of privacy,” she murmured.

Jim immediately understood and nodded. “I’ll saddle the horse and stow this gear.”

Pamela watched him move away, totally unconcerned with her urgent need. She looked first in one direction, then another, somewhat bewildered by her predicament. Jim glanced up and realized she’d probably never had to see to nature’s call in the great outdoors.

“Just pick a direction,” he called over his shoulder. “One way is just about the same as another.”

Pamela reddened and stalked off toward a thicket of brush. She could
hear Jim chuckling in the background, and it irritated her more than she could
say.

“We’ll see how he laughs when we get back to Dawson,” she muttered.

The mountain trail was winding and laborious for the horse. He struggled
against the weight of two passengers for, while Pamela barely weighed a hun
dred
pounds, Jim was a good-sized portion of baggage. From time to time, he dismounted and led the horse while Pamela rode alone.

For the first time, Pamela began to notice the scenery. The land around her was both beautiful and deadly. At times, the roadway was barely suited to accept the width of a horse, and Pamela felt herself leaning toward the rocky wall as loose gravel and rock shifted and plummeted down the ravine.

A heavy cloud bank moved in and rained on the valleys below them. Pamela watched as it blanketed everything in billowy blackness and lingered on as the morning passed into afternoon.

When they stopped to rest the horse and eat a meager lunch, Jim watched the skies, shaking his head. “It doesn’t look good,” he said.

“What doesn’t look good?” Pamela asked curiously.

“It looks like we’re going to get wet,” he replied and motioned behind her. “There’s another storm moving in.”

Pamela glanced at the heavy sky and shrugged. At least she’d be back with Zandy and Riley by nightfall. Thinking of Zandy, Pamela remembered Jim’s words from the night before.

“Why did you want to take Zandy?” she suddenly questioned. “I mean, why did you think she needed rescuing?”

Jim pulled his hat down low before shoving his hands into his jeans. “I wronged her a long time ago,” he finally said. “I was partially to blame for her ending up in a loveless marriage with that no-good Riley Dawson.”

Pamela nearly choked on her food. “Loveless marriage?” She began to laugh gaily. “There were never two people more in love than Riley and Zandy. She worships the ground he walks on. He stares at her with such devotion that I honestly think he’d perish if she were taken from him.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed and his face grew flushed. “I don’t believe you!”

Pamela got to her feet and smoothed her burgundy skirt into place. “Well, it doesn’t much matter what you believe. It’s true. Zandy and Riley are very happy. In fact, they’re going to have a baby in the autumn.”

Jim moved away angrily. He threw things back into his saddlebags, muttering all the while. “No one could be happy with Riley Dawson.”

“But Zandy is,” Pamela said, refusing to give an inch on the argument. “Riley has changed from the man he used to be.”

“What would you know of the man he used to be?” Jim raged. “I knew him then. I worked for him and he was a cutthroat, no-good person who. . . .” His words faded into a growl. “He was just ruthless, that’s all.”

“He got saved,” Pamela offered. “Zandy says God made Riley a new man, and she loves him.”

“I can’t believe this trash,” Jim said, throwing the reins over the horse’s neck. “Get up there,” he said, motioning to the saddle.

“I will not be ordered about. You’re just mad because the woman who
you thought needed you, doesn’t. You should have checked things out a little better.”

“Get over here so I can help you into the saddle,” Jim muttered between clenched teeth. Pamela’s news just couldn’t be true. Surely he hadn’t been even more stupid than he’d already figured.

“I won’t,” Pamela said, striking a pose with hands on hips.

“Suit yourself,” Jim replied and swung up into the saddle. “You can walk for awhile.” He nudged the horse forward and didn’t even look back to see if Pamela followed him.

She did, though. She was angry at Jim for refusing to apologize for his temper and even angrier at herself for losing her ride. She grimaced at each step, feeling the sharp rocks as they cut into her thin-soled slippers. Then the rain began to fall.

First it only misted, making everything damp and cold. Then it fell in earnest, with huge drops that saturated everything in its path. Pamela struggled to keep pace with the horse and finally could take no more. Crumbling to the ground, she panted in exhaustion, near to tears for her folly.

Without a word, Jim got down from the horse, lifted Pamela into his arms, and remounted. Neither one said a thing, and a silent truce was born.

Six

T
he rain fell in such a deluge that returning the same way they’d departed from Dawson became impossible. Each mountain stream was rising rapidly as the rains continued throughout the day. Finally, they came to a place where they could go no farther.

“We’ll have to wait it out. By morning it should go down. This is just a cloudburst,” Jim said, his voice laced with uncertainty. “If not, we’ll go back a ways and pick up another trail.”

Pamela nodded. She was weary and cold and hungry. Nothing could have pleased her more than a warm bed and supper but, next to that dream, getting off the horse was second best.

Jim took a small hatchet and cut branches from the pines to form a shelter. It wasn’t much, but it kept a good deal of the water off of them. Eventually, the rain seemed to pass on down the valley and, though the sun didn’t come out to warm things, it was a relief.

Pamela succumbed to her exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep. She was mindless of the cold and hunger. When she awoke, it was morning again, and she was stunned to realize she was alone.

“Jim!” she called, crawling out of the lean-to. “Jim!” Her voice held a frantic tone. She hadn’t realized until that moment that she’d come to depend on the stranger for her own security.

“I’m here,” Jim called, coming from a heavy growth of small pines. “I was catching us some breakfast.” He held out a couple of ground squirrels and laughed at Pamela’s wrinkled-up nose.

“You’ll think they’re grand once I get them cooked and you sink your teeth into them.”

Pamela rolled her eyes. “I can’t imagine feeling that way.” But her stomach growled loudly, causing Jim to laugh even more.

Embarrassed, Pamela excused herself to some privacy and didn’t return until Jim had the monstrous little things skinned and spitted over a small fire.

“Where did you get dry wood?” she asked, taking her seat beside the fire.

“You just have to know where to look,” Jim said with a grin. “The forest is filled with all sorts of wonders, if you know where to find them.” With that, he pulled a handful of berries from his vest pocket.

“How marvelous!” Pamela exclaimed and reached out to take some of the berries. She didn’t concern herself with whether they were dirty or clean and popped them into her mouth with a smile. “Oh, they’re wonderful.”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” she said in surprise. “Why?”

“I just wondered. You look so young, almost like a child.” She frowned indignantly, causing him to add, “No offense.”

Pamela relaxed a bit and nodded. “I understand.”

“I really am sorry,” Jim continued. “I feel bad for all I’ve put you through, and I guess,” he paused, “I just don’t want you to be mad at me. I honestly meant you no harm. I’m not the kind of man who goes around taking women on a regular basis.”

Pamela laughed, “I’m sure you don’t.”

It was the only reply she felt comfortable in making. In truth, she was beginning to notice things about Jim that she hadn’t before. Like the way he made her feel secure. That had completely surprised her.

She watched him work at cooking the food, turning it until it was golden and
brown. She accepted one of the sticks of meat and looked up questioningly.

“I promise, it won’t be as bad as you think. Eat it with this,” he said and handed her a biscuit. “I brought quite a few of these with me.”

Pamela did as he instructed her and found that the taste was bearable. Her hunger appeased, she got up to stretch and walk out the soreness in her back and legs.

Jim was putting things away and dousing the fire when she returned. For a moment, Pamela found herself thinking of his apology and the sincere way his eyes had met hers. He wasn’t the ruthless outlaw she’d originally considered him. No, he was just a misguided soul, pining for a love that could not be. Just like she was. The thought shocked Pamela, and her head snapped up to find Jim’s warm brown eyes watching her.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes, I suppose,” she said with a glance at the horse. “Although I’m not thinking overly kind thoughts of the ride ahead.”

“Better than walking all the way,” Jim mused, and Pamela heartily agreed.

The horse picked his way down the muddy, rock-strewn path. This trail was not as well developed as the one they’d used before, but the rain-swollen creeks prevented them from crossing to the better one so they had to make do with what lay before them.

Pamela found the aching in her back more than she could bear and final
ly gave in and leaned against Jim. He didn’t seem to mind, and she tried to forget the impropriety of the entire matter, reminding herself that the last two days had been filled with improprieties.

“We’ll stop and water the horse,” Jim said, sliding over the animal’s rump. “We’re making good time in spite of the rain and flooding. We’ll probably be back to Dawson before dark.”

“It can’t be soon enough,” Pamela remarked, letting Jim lift her from the horse’s back.

When he set her down, she remained fixed for a moment, looking up into his eyes. Then the screech of a jaybird broke her thoughts, and she moved away to let him work with the horse.

Jim led the animal to the rapidly moving stream and allowed him to drink his fill. With a nervous snort, the gelding lifted his head and flattened his ears. Something was setting the horse on edge.

Jim glanced around, wondering if a bear or mountain lion was nearby. He lifted his eyes to the rocky ledges overhead but, seeing nothing, tried to pull the horse back with him to where Pamela waited.

The gelding whinnied and pulled away, rearing slightly and pounding the damp earth with its powerful hooves.

“What’s wrong?” Pamela questioned, then her eyes grew wide, and Jim saw her mouth open as if to say something more.

A sharp blow landed on the back of his head, and Jim instantly lost consciousness, slumping to the dirt. The horse reared, slamming its hooves down inches from Jim’s face before charging away from the scene.

Pamela stared at the three men who faced her. They were leering and ugly and frightfully filthy. She backed away a step or two, not wanting to leave Jim to their mercy, yet knowing that if they caught up with her, her own fate could be worse than death.

She turned to run and managed to get several yards away before the youngest of the three caught up with her and threw her roughly over his shoulder.

“See if that fool has anything of value on him,” the man yelled. “I’m taking her with us. Ma will know what to do with her.”

“I know what to do with her, Joe,” one of the others called back. This drew laughter from all three and left Pamela with a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The stench of the man rose up to assault her nose. Though she was more than a little dirty herself, this man smelled of death and rot. She struggled against his hold, but he only tightened his grip and laughed.

“You might as well cooperate, Missy. You ain’t going nowhere.” By this time, the other two had joined him and Pamela could see that they were appraising her intently.

“I’d say she’s a proper lady,” one of the men said, coming alongside her. Pamela could see that a long hideous scar marred his face. It cut a path across his nose and ended just above his lip.

“Now, Knifenose,” the other one said, running his tongue over his large lips. “You ain’t pretty enough to be courting a proper lady. Iffen she really is a proper lady, then you’d best leave her to me.” They snorted laughs, leering and commenting, until finally they reached the place where their horses were tethered.

The man called Joe pulled Pamela from his shoulder and threw her across his horse. The saddle horn pounded like a knife into her ribs, and Pamela let out a cry.

“Keep quiet,” the man said, taking a seat in the saddle. He pulled her across his lap, then urged his horse forward.

“Was he dead?” Joe asked Knifenose, and Pamela held her breath waiting for the answer.

“Will be soon enough,” Knifenose replied. “He didn’t have much of anything on him so I didn’t figure he deserved to be eased out of his misery.”

Pamela shuddered at their cruelty and felt herself grow faint.