A Lady of the West Read online

  They didn’t dare turn south now; that direction would insure that the riders cross their trail. Victoria put her back to the sun and kicked Sophie into a run.

  Celia hung on with grim determination and her little mare tried valiantly to maintain pace with their larger mounts. Still Victoria and Emma had to rein in their horses to permit Celia to stay with them. Victoria cast several anxious looks over her shoulder, but the riders had descended from the top of the ridge and were lost from sight. She prayed that they weren’t from the ranch at all, but were merely passing through and wouldn’t pay any attention to their trail.

  They gained the top of a crest and Victoria reined in, turning Sophie so she could watch the direction from which they’d come.

  “Why are you stopping?” Emma cried, wheeling her own mount around.

  “I want to see where they are. They might not be after us.”

  They waited, straining their eyes for sight of the riders. It was their ears that picked it up first, the distant rumble that sounded like thunder, though the sky was clear. Victoria waited, her mouth dry.

  The riders topped another ridge, and her heart almost stopped. They were much closer than she’d feared, riding hard, and straight at them.

  “Dear God. Run!”

  She tried to think, but her brain felt numb. She knew it had to be either Sarratt or Garnet. Either meant death.

  Celia was riding with her jaw set, though her face was pale. Victoria held back Sophie’s long strides and positioned her on one side of Celia’s mount, while Emma took up the other side. Better if Celia had taken another horse from the stable, but they hadn’t thought of it. Now placid but slow Gypsy might well mean the difference between them getting away or being caught.

  The landscape was changing, becoming gradually more dry and barren as the trees gave way to rock and shrub. A slight breeze picked up the fine dirt and blew it in their faces, covering them with grit. Victoria looked over her shoulder again, and again the riders were closer than they’d been before. She didn’t recognize any of the men, but now she could see that they had pulled up their neckerchiefs to cover their faces against the grit. Their covered faces, even at a distance, were menacing.

  She tightened her reins as they plunged headlong down a slope. Celia cried out and almost came off over Gypsy’s head, but at the last minute Victoria reached out and grabbed Celia’s skirt, hauling her back into the saddle. They slid and plunged to the bottom, and Victoria cried, “Stop!”

  They reined in the horses. Poor Gypsy was almost blown, but Emma’s gelding and Sophie were still strong. Victoria jumped down. “Quickly, Celia, change horses with me!”

  “I can’t ride Sophie!” Celia cried, appalled, though she obediently slid to the ground.

  “You’ll have to. I’m a better rider, I can get more out of Gypsy than you can. You take the rifle,” she said swiftly to Emma. “Give me the pistol.”

  Emma, too, obeyed, but her face twisted. “What are you doing?”

  “We have to split up.” Victoria boosted Celia into Sophie’s saddle, then she scrambled atop Gypsy. “Take Celia and ride east.”

  “East!”

  “Yes, due east, along the base of this ridge. There’s more shelter that way, and perhaps they’ll follow me instead of you. Sophie is a strong horse, she’ll keep going a long time.”

  “I can’t leave you!” Emma shouted.

  “You have to! You have to take care of Celia!”

  “Then you go with her! I’ll lead them away.”

  Victoria gave her a stark look. “It’s me they want,” she said. “It isn’t Garnet; I know Garnet’s horse. So it has to be Sarratt—or—or someone else who hates the Major. Now, for the love of God, hurry!” Without waiting, without allowing herself to look back, she touched her heels to poor Gypsy and rode west.

  She had no hope of being able to outdistance the riders indefinitely; she only hoped to give Emma and Celia a chance to escape. Perhaps, even if Sarratt caught them, he wouldn’t harm them. After all, they weren’t McLains.

  She rode as she’d never ridden before in her life, pushing the tired horse deeper into the barren, rocky land. It wasn’t desert, but there were no trees, no crystal-clear rivers, no ripe meadow grasses. The sun rose high, burning her back through the thin fabric of her shirtwaist. Her arms and legs ached.

  Gypsy stumbled. Victoria agonized, yet she knew she’d have to give the horse a rest or risk it dying under her. She stopped and dismounted, and walked Gypsy for as long as she dared before giving the animal a small drink of water. When the horse stopped blowing so strenuously, Victoria remounted and started her flight again, but at a slower pace. The mare simply couldn’t manage more.

  Victoria’s throat was dry and caked with dust, but she didn’t dare drink any of the water herself; she might need it for Gypsy. A wave of dizziness swept her, but she grimly concentrated on her balance.

  Looking behind again, she blinked in confusion. She could see only one rider, steadily gaining on her—or was it a mirage? Where were the others? Her heart stopped in sickening realization. Her ruse had failed; he’d sent the others after Emma and Celia, but was coming after her himself, as inexorable as the sun. This was Sarratt. She knew it was Sarratt.

  She kicked Gypsy, but felt no responding increase in speed.

  They were nearing a huge outcropping of bare red stone when Gypsy began staggering. Victoria looked behind again and saw that he was only a few minutes behind. Her horse wouldn’t go any farther. She reined in and jumped to the ground, then ran into the rocks. Her boots slipped as she scrambled higher and higher, searching for a cave or a notch where she could hide. The pistol was heavy in her pocket. Dear God, if she had to she’d use it. He was alone; just one shot was all she’d need if she aimed carefully enough.

  She risked a quick look around a rock. He was below her, dismounting from his horse with a powerful grace that frightened her, yet seemed dizzyingly familiar. The lower half of his face was still hidden by the neckerchief. He lifted his head and scanned the rocks, and she jerked back out of sight.

  The hot rock was scorching her hands. She stared up at the relentless sun, glowing in a sky unmarred by clouds, and wondered if this would be the last time she would see it. She was more frightened than she had ever been in her life.

  “Goddamn it, stop wasting my time and come out of there.” The voice was muffled by the cloth covering his mouth, but the rage in it was plain.

  Evidently he didn’t think he had anything to fear from her. Victoria felt as if she had enough fear for the two of them, but somehow she steadied herself. She might lose, but not without a fight.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  She fumbled for the pistol with shaking hands and for a frozen moment stared bemused at the glint of sunlight along the steel-blue barrel. What a strangely beautiful object, this instrument of death; it was so perfectly suited to its purpose. The only chance she had was to use it.

  She held her breath, listening. When she heard a slight scraping below and to her left, she used both hands to pull the hammer back. She took two quick, deep breaths to steady herself, then she eased her head around the rock.

  She saw him as he changed position, climbing to another section of rock. Her heart leaped and she fired wildly at him. The bullet chipped a little section of rock close to his head, sending the splinter flying. He dived for cover among the rocks, and she couldn’t see him any longer, but she knew she hadn’t hit him.

  He would work his way in the direction from which the shot had been fired, and this time he knew she was armed. Victoria scrambled higher, scraping her palms on the hot rocks. A lizard stared at her with beady eyes, then darted into the protection of a cool, dark crack. She wished she could crawl in after it.

  Maybe, while he was climbing up, she could work her way down. If she could sneak around him and get back down to the horses, she could take both of the horses and leave him stranded.

  She sprawled out on her stomach and, keeping a weather eye o