The Gunfighter and the Heiress - By Carol Finch Page 0,84

more accurate. But still!

Inching along the wall, taking care not to let the spare pistols tumble from her improvised pockets and clank against the rock floor, Natalie moved along the perimeter, watching where she stepped. She stopped breathing when Charley mumbled inaudibly. She was afraid he’d rouse his brothers and the chase would be on before she had a head start.

To her vast relief, all three men remained asleep. She stepped outside to inhale a deep breath of fresh air. She would have gladly offered to purchase another two bottles of liquor for her captors if it would guarantee they’d be conked out until she was long gone.

Natalie moved swiftly down the footpath that descended thirty-five feet to the canyon floor. She did admit the Harpers had chosen an excellent fortress that provided a broad view of the crevices, arroyos and unique rock formations that towered overhead. She wanted to take time to wash her face and refresh herself in the clear spring, complete with a small waterfall that tumbled from the caprock to splatter off a stairway of limestone ledges. But time was of the essence. She had to tolerate the lingering odor of the mildewy tarp and smelly kerchief that clung to her clothing.

Her first order of business was to reach the four horses tethered near a stand of cedar trees at the base of an arroyo. She cast an occasional glance at the ridge above her to make sure the bandits didn’t emerge like a swarm of angry hornets. Moving quickly, she straddled one horse bareback then grabbed the reins to the other three.

The sun cast colorful light and shadows on the rugged rock formations as she reined north. At least she hoped it was north. According to Crow, she had a lousy sense of direction.

She grimaced in disappointment when angry shouts boomed around the stone walls. She glanced up to see Georgie Harper pumping his fist at her, promising hellish torment and torture. Charley and Willy promptly joined him on the ledge, calling her all sorts of foul names.

“Come back here!” Georgie bellowed furiously. “I’ll show you no mercy when we catch up with you.”

“I’m gonna make you wish you were dead!” Willy yelled.

“And I’ll help him,” Charley seconded. “You’ll never get out of this canyon alive!”

Natalie ignored them. She didn’t have time to exchange threats with the outlaws for she was hell-bent on escape.

From their elevated fortress, they pitched rocks at her, startling the horses. The horses danced sideways and threw their heads nervously while rocks pelted them. Natalie gritted her teeth and held tightly to the reins, though her weary arm felt as if it were being stretched past its limits.

Then the shooting started. She looked down at her makeshift pockets, noting two six-shooters had fallen by the wayside during her hasty descent on the footpath. Plus, the Harpers had spare hardware tucked in the waistbands of their breeches.

“Awk!” Natalie squawked when gunshots ricocheted off the rock walls, pelting her face with pebbles and filling her eyes with grit and dust.

Her eyes were watering so bad that she could barely see where she was going. She wiped them on the sleeve of her gown then yelped when another bullet thudded into the boulder near her shoulder. When the horses bolted forward and yanked on the reins, nearly jerking her arm from its socket, she gasped in pain.

“Curse it!” Natalie grumbled as she fought to regain control of the startled animals. She didn’t want to release them, knowing the Harpers would chase them down on foot, then chase her on horseback.

Natalie instinctively ducked when a bullet whistled past her head, nearly putting a new part in her hair. She spared a quick glance over her shoulder to see Georgie blasting away with one of the pistols she had lost on the footpath. Charley had grabbed the other one. The two men fired at her again.

They were excellent marksmen, she noted. Flying bullets missed her by inches but grazed the ribs of the mount she was riding. The horse reared up on its hind legs and screamed in fright. She clamped her arms around the wild-eyed horse’s neck. But without a saddle to anchor herself, she slid backward and landed on the ground with a thud and groan, twisting her ankle in the process.

She cast a frantic glance at the Harper brothers who were cursing her as they stormed downhill to capture her. Her heart hammered a hundred miles an hour as she struggled to control