all be wed.”
Eyes Like Mole turned toward the sound of her voice and tried a fierce glare. It did not feel comfortable explaining himself to a mere woman. But it was hard to glare at someone you could not see.
“You give me your hand.”
His order was so unexpected that she complied. He held it up before him, splaying her fingers apart like the feathers in a bird’s tail.
“I cannot see this.”
“See what?” Caitie asked.
“This hand… or you.” He pointed around him. “I know what is there. I see it from afar. But when I ride close, it disappears, like the dust before a windstorm.”
Caitie slipped her hand free and then stepped close, waving her hand before his face in a wide sweep. He barely flinched.
“Oh, oh my.”
There was little else she could say.
“Food inside. Water nearby. You find. We talk later.”
With stoic face, he turned toward the sound of his grazing mount, moving carefully with arms outstretched until he reached the shadowy bulk before him. He walked away, leading his horse. But he wasn’t the only one who could not see. Surprised by the hand fate had dealt the little man, Caitie found herself looking at his world through a blur of tears.
The sun was only hours old as Joe Redhawk squatted low to the ground, watching the Bolin Brothers camp, constantly searching the thickets beneath the trees for a sign of the girl.
He saw nothing but the brothers, heard nothing but their quarrels, and felt a growing sickness in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with missing breakfast.
She’d been so pretty. Feisty and young as she was, she should have been fighting off beaus, not the likes of Milt and Art. Yet no one knew better than Joe Redhawk that life had a way of being unfair.
Had been pretty? Why do I keep thinking that way? She can’t be dead. I don’t want her to be dead. Hell, I don’t even know her name.
Anger made him careless. When “Breed” got careless, people often died. He walked into the camp with both guns drawn.
“Where is she you sorry sons-a-bitches? And don’t be tellin’ me she’s dead, or you’re next.”
Milt spilled hot coffee on his hands.
Art fell backward off the stump in the act of trying to draw his gun and busted his head on a rock.
For Milt, this was the last straw in a series of disasters. He wished to hell and back that he’d never even seen Mudhen Crossing or that stable girl.
“It’s all your fault!” Milt yelled, glaring at Art who’d addled himself when he fell.
Art, on the other hand, had more things to worry about besides the gunslinger who’d surprised them in their camp.
“My head! I think it’s broke.”
“I asked you a question,” Joe drawled, and just to prove he was serious, cocked the hammers on both guns.
Glassy-eyed with pain, Art heard the hammers click and looked up. Unaware that the blow to his head had nearly tripled his vision, it looked to him as if a whole posse had them surrounded, but was hard pressed to see which man it was who was aiming down on him.
“How many are there?” Art asked, and staggered to his feet. “I’ll get the two on the right. You take the rest.”
Joe crouched. “I said… drop your guns! Do it now!”
Milt cursed and spit, then followed the Breed’s orders and dropped his piece in the dirt. At Milt’s insistence, Art followed suit, then followed his gun by passing out, face forward into the dirt.
Milt rolled his eyes and glared at the big half-breed. “Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery. You’d be doin’ me a damned favor, and that’s a fact. Look at him! I never saw such a poor excuse for an outlaw in my entire life.”
Joe shot in the dirt between Milt’s feet, and then smiled. He had Milt Bolin’s attention.
“Next time I won’t miss.”
Art groaned as he clutched his head and rolled over onto his back. “Is it her? Is she back? If she is, so help me God, I’ll take her back to Mudhen Crossing myself,” he said, and then puked all over himself.
The urge to kill slid out of Joe’s body as quickly as it had appeared. If they feared she was back, then that meant she must still be alive!
“What’ve you done with her?”
Breed’s angry voice rang in their ears. For the first time in his life, Milt wished he could trade places with Art.
“She got