Revenge on the Cattle Trail (Preview)

Chapter One

West of San Antonio, Texas

1870

“Just be still and do what I say. Nothing will happen to you.” Matt Duncan glanced uneasily at the girl. She was a pretty little thing, blonde, fourteen, not big as a minute. But there was a gag in her mouth, her hands were tied behind her back, and her eyes were wide with terror. She was staring at him like he was the devil, and her shoulders were trembling.

He sighed and pulled a hand across his jaw as he scanned the brush outside the cave. Nothing about this job sat right with him. It was wrong to grab a man’s kid, first off, and it was a crazy risk. But there was no talking to Beau.

Beau had always thought he knew better than the rest of them, and now he had big dollar signs in his eyes. The old jobs weren’t enough for him anymore. Said they were always gonna be two-bit waddies if they didn’t have the guts to take the big risks.

So now they were kidnappers. Matt glanced at the girl as she shrank against the rough cave wall. She was wearing a light blue gingham dress, and somebody had embroidered her name on the white collar: Melissa.

The girl was crying into the gag, and he bit his lip and tried to think of something that would distract her from the fact that he was holding a rifle. Something that would make him seem less scary.

“Um…what grade are you in at school, Melissa?”

He winced inwardly, but it was all he could think of. And it went over about as well as he figured. She went right on crying and shaking.

Matt pulled his mouth to one side in defeat. Yeah, she could see the danger for herself, and nothing he said was gonna make any difference.

He turned his head to scan the desert and cussed Beau under his breath. He used to be able to reason with him, but Beau had taken the bit in his teeth this time. He wouldn’t listen to anybody, and if things went sideways, he wouldn’t be the one to see…

Matt glanced at the girl again. He wondered if he had time to cut her hands loose and let her go. Beau would likely kill him if he did, but he was starting not to care. Now the girl’s eyes had rolled up. She looked like she was about to pass out, and he felt like a penny with a hole in it.

He made up his mind. “The hell with this.”

He propped the rifle against the cave wall and was just reaching for his knife to cut her loose when the sound of a rider outside made him grab for his gun again.

To his relief, and anger, it was Beau. He was off the horse before it stopped moving, and he blew into the cave with a wink and a grin.

“Didn’t I tell you it would be all right?” He laughed and slapped Matt’s back. “Wasn’t that the most beautiful thing you ever saw? In and out of that house in less than five minutes! We got the kid and got away clean!”

Matt stared at him grimly. “Where are the others?”

Beau stuck his hands on his hips and glanced at the girl. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn’t shaking anymore.

“Harry and Walter came with me. They’re on the hillside, covering the entrance. Making sure nobody sneaks up on us from behind.”

Matt glared at him. He and Beau had been friends all their lives. Beau was like a brother to him. The way they’d had to fight to survive, he didn’t mind a little larceny to balance out the unfairness of the world. But he couldn’t stand by and…

Beau ran a hand through his shining shock of blonde hair and scanned the cave. “Not much in the way of comfort in here, is there? I should’ve planned a little better. I will next time.”

Matt turned to snarl, “Next time? I’m not doing this again. This is wrong, this is crazy, and if that kid gets hurt, we’re all gonna hang. And we’ll deserve to!”

Beau’s eyes were frowning blue marbles. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, buddy. That kid is as safe with us as she was at home. This is easy money. Her pa will bring us a sack of cash, we’ll turn her loose, and everybody will be happy. Nobody will get hurt.” He gripped Matt’s arm and laughed. “Relax, you’re as tense as a cat. Your muscles are so bunched up I can feel it through your shirt!”

“It’s not a joke!”

Beau slapped his back and reached inside his leather jacket. He held out a bottle of whiskey. “Have a slug, Matt. You need one.”

Matt stared at him grimly. “I’m letting her go.”

Beau raised his head to meet his eyes, and the laughter died out of them. “What?”

“I said I’m letting her go. This was crazy from the start. Maybe if we take her back now, we can still get away.”

Beau tossed the bottle aside and stepped in close. “Now look here, Matt. It’s one thing to be jumpy. But it’s another to lose your nerve.”

“Call it whatever you like. I’m taking her back to her pa!” Matt reached for the knife and turned to cut the girl free.

Beau grabbed his arm and nodded toward the desert outside. “It’s too late. Here he is now. That was fast!”
Matt’s heart sank in shame and despair. The taste of disaster swirled in his mouth like bad whiskey. He crouched down behind a rock and reached for the rifle as a grim middle-aged man shouted in greeting from a few hundred yards away.

“I’m George Avery,” the man shouted in a trembling voice. “I’m Melissa’s father. I’ve got the ransom money right here!” He raised a bank bag high in the air.

Her father’s voice roused the girl. Her eyes fluttered open, and she dragged herself upright, frowning with mingled hope and fear as she heard him call:

“I want to see my daughter!”
The girl screamed and rushed past them to run to her father. Beau dragged her backward and she thrashed in his arms, sobbing. He nodded to Matt as he wrestled with her.

Matt cursed Beau and himself, but he pulled a bandanna over his face and reached for her. He murmured, “Calm down, honey. You’re all right. You’re about to go to your pa. We’re gonna walk out of the cave so he can see you.”

He gripped her shoulders, and together they walked out into plain view, slowly and stiffly. The sight of Avery’s haggard face as he stared at his sobbing daughter was like a slug through Matt’s guts. He licked his lips, swallowed, and forced himself to shout:

“Toss the bag over here and ride out of rifle range. Stay there until you see us ride off, and don’t try to follow. We’ll leave her right here.”

“I won’t follow you. Just don’t hurt her!” Avery’s eyes were on Melissa as he swung his arm and hurled the bag to Matt’s feet. He turned the horse’s head and was on the point of riding off when a dozen riders came pouring around the curve of the hill. The man waved and screamed, “No, no, no! Get away, get away!”

Matt pulled the girl back into the safety of the cave and yelled, “It’s the sheriff, Beau! Leave the girl and let’s get out of here!”

Rifle fire exploded from the hill around them. The girl suddenly screamed with her whole body, and Matt turned to see her father get shot out of the saddle and tumble to the ground. He staggered back in horror as Beau yanked them into the cave and lay down covering fire.

“Matt, throw her on a horse and take her with you,” Beau commanded. “She’s our ticket out of here. We’ll split up and meet at the cabin two days from now. Go!”

Matt grabbed the girl and hustled her to the back of the cave, where their horses were saddled and ready to go.

Beau yelled at the posse. “Stop firing or we’ll kill the girl!”

Matt pushed the girl up onto the horse and she collapsed over its neck, sobbing inconsolably. He watched her in grief and rage, then climbed up after her and sent his mount trotting out the back opening.

Harry, their lookout, called to him from the rocks as he sent the horse up into the trees on the hillside.

“Get out of here. We’ll cover for you!”
Matt kicked his mount, and it heaved as it scrambled up the steep, pine-covered hill. Matt sent the horse over the top of the ridge, then turned to walk it behind the cover of a boulder.

He sat there watching the whole fiasco as Beau burst from the back of the cave, yelled to Harry and the others, and sent his horse flying. Matt watched Beau ride over the crest of the hill and disappear, then saw Harry and the others scramble down to the cave to get their mounts. They followed a few seconds later, and when the last of them had gone, he nudged his horse and sent it back down to where the posse was waiting.

He tossed his rifle down on the hillside and raised his arms as he took the girl back to safety.

Chapter Two

“Are these the men who were in the gang with you?”

Matt raised his head. He was sitting in the witness box of a courtroom. His eyes moved past the attorney’s pointing hand to Beau and Harry, who were sitting in the front row of the courtroom next to their mustached lawyer. The empty seat next to his friends went through Matt’s heart like an arrow, because Walter was dead. He’d been shot by the posse as he was trying to escape.

His heart was in his boots, and he felt like the biggest traitor ever born. But there was a little girl who was going to grow up without a father because of them, and they all had to pay. It was their last chance.

If they didn’t, they were going to become devils.

“Yes.”

The lawyer turned to point at Beau. “To be clear, you are indicating this gentleman, the defendant Beau Watters.” He pointed at Harry. “And this gentleman, the defendant Harry Evans.”

“That’s right.”

The lawyer turned back to him. “How long were you in the gang with Mr. Watters and Mr. Evans?”

“It’ll be five years this June.”

“What kinds of crimes did your gang commit?”

Matt sighed. “Robberies. Mostly small stores and banks. Occasionally a stagecoach.”

“Had your gang killed anyone before this kidnapping?”

“No.”

“Why did you decide to turn state’s evidence against your fellow gang members?”

Matt’s eyes moved to Beau’s face. Beau held his gaze, and his eyes were as grim and cold as stone.

“Because we’d just kidnapped a little girl. Endangered her life. And created a situation that ended in her seeing her pa get shot dead.” He held Beau’s eye and pressed his mouth into a straight line. “She’s an orphan now. We all grew up in an orphanage, and we know what that means.” His eyes moved to Harry’s face, and Harry at least had the grace to look ashamed.

“It was wrong. And if we don’t pay for it, we’ll never go back to being who we were before this mess started.”

His eyes returned to Beau’s face, but that angry mask hadn’t changed at all. Beau’s expression was saying that their friendship was over and that he’d better watch his back.

Matt bit his lip. It had broken his heart to betray his best friends to the law, to tell the sheriff where they’d gone. They’d grown up together. They were as close to family as three orphan boys could get.

It broke his heart that all that was over now. He knew Beau well enough to know that he’d never forgive this, not if they both lived to be a hundred. But there were some things even more important than friendship. He might be an outlaw, but he couldn’t live with himself if he wasn’t true to his lights.

They couldn’t have gone on the way they were going. They’d have gotten killed or killed somebody else.

This was his way of saying he wasn’t a murderer. His way of trying to keep Beau from becoming one.

Beau had left him no other choice.

The lawyer’s voice yanked him back to the present. “Who was the ringleader of your gang, Mr. Duncan?”

Matt stifled a sigh. “Beau. I mean, Mr. Watters.”

“He was the one who hatched the plan to kidnap Melissa Avery from her father’s home and hold her for ransom?”

Matt’s eyes sank to his hands. They were clasping the witness stand rail so hard that his knuckles were white.

“Yes.” A wave of shame crawled up from his feet to his hair, and he could only hope he wasn’t going red in front of the whole courtroom. He was hollow inside, sick, grieving. It was torture to sit up there in front of a bunch of strangers. He could tell they all thought he was lying to save his own skin, but he didn’t care.

What was important was that they were all going to be given a good long chance to think about what they’d done. About whom they were becoming. They’d never have done that if they were free.

It was a strange gift, but that was how he thought of it. He was giving Beau and Harry and himself a chance to grow a conscience. Or at least, to remember that they’d once had one.

They hadn’t always been this way.

“Thank you, Mr. Duncan.”

Matt raised his eyes. A guard walked up and escorted him to a seat on the other side of the courtroom. But he could feel Beau’s eyes boring into his back every step of the way, and shame roared up to scald him again.

He comforted himself with the thought that it was better to make an enemy of a brother than to see him dead or…

He sat down and closed his eyes. The trial droned on, and voices mumbled in the background for hours. Matt stopped paying attention and was only roused by the compelling sound of the judge’s voice.

“Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”

The foreman stood up and replied solemnly. “We have, your honor.”

“Please read your verdict to the court.”

Matt watched as the earnest foreman cleared his throat and consulted a piece of paper. He looked like a farmer dressed up in his best Sunday go-to-meeting suit. An honest man. Matt bowed his head.

“We, the jury, find the defendant Beau Watters guilty of kidnapping and manslaughter. We find the defendant Harry Evans guilty of aiding and abetting a crime.” He licked his thumb and turned the page over to read a second page.

“We find the defendant Matt Duncan guilty of aiding and abetting.”

The judge nodded. “Thank you, gentlemen of the jury.” He turned his head to stare at the three of them. “Having considered the circumstances of this case, that you men made the decision to enter a life of crime, and then kidnapped a child from her father’s home, you all deserve to go to prison for a long, long time. You may not have killed Mr. Avery deliberately, but he’d still be alive if you hadn’t kidnapped his daughter.”

Matt closed his eyes and waited, and the judge went on: “On the other hand, none of you are guilty of direct bloodshed. And one of you had the good sense to bring the girl back to us unharmed.”
He sighed and turned to Beau. “Mr. Watters, you are most responsible for this tragedy. The plot was yours, and you assumed the leadership role. Because of this and your earlier crimes, I am sentencing you to serve ten years in the Texas State Penitentiary at Huntsville.”

He turned to Harry. “Mr. Evans, I am sentencing you to serve five years at the penitentiary at Huntsville.”

Matt raised his eyes to the judge’s face, and he found the older man’s grim gaze on him. “Mr. Duncan, you’re an accessory to this miserable affair. But because you returned Miss Avery unharmed, and because you cooperated with the state to provide evidence, you will serve a term of two years of hard labor on a railroad work gang, after which time you will go free.” He rapped the bench with his gavel.

“Court is adjourned.”

A guard walked up and took Matt’s arm, and he was marched out of the courtroom. But he turned to look over his shoulder as he went, and Beau’s eyes were locked on him like he was staring down a gun barrel.

Matt’s heart broke, because he knew that look on Beau’s face. It was hate, and it was forever.

He’d lost his friend more completely than if he’d died.

“Come on.” The guard yanked his arm, and Matt stumbled out of the courtroom with grief threatening to smother the flicker of hope in his heart.

Chapter Three

Fort Sumner, New Mexico

Five years later

“Matt!”

Matt looked up. He stepped back, pulled the smoking brand from the last calf’s hide, and tossed the hot iron into a tub of water, where it sizzled and smoked.

Will Stubbs came walking toward him. Matt straightened up, because Will was the ranch owner’s son, and he was just one of the hired men on the Rocking S Ranch.

Will grimaced and jerked a thumb back across rolling pastures to the distant ranch house. “Pa wants to talk to you.”

Matt’s eyes flicked to his face. “What about?”

Will shrugged. “He didn’t say. Go on, I’ll help finish up here.”

“Thanks.” Matt wiped his hands on his jeans, finger-combed his hair, and took off for the ranch house. But a little nagging worry was whispering to him as he walked.

What if somebody had told the boss about his past?

What if he was about to get fired?

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. It had been five years since the kidnapping, and three years since he’d got off the railroad gang. He shook his head, remembering. That had been such grueling work that it made cowboying seem almost easy. He liked his new job. He’d prefer not to lose it.

The ranch house at the Rocking S was a long, low adobe with a red tile roof and a big, open patio in front. He walked up the shallow steps to the front door, took off his hat, and knocked. It was dinnertime, and the scent of pot roast was curling under the door and made his stomach rumble.

He waited for a minute, then knocked again. This time the door opened, and Flora Stubbs, his boss’ wife, smiled and stepped back to let him enter. “Hello, Matt. Trey’s waiting for you in his study. Third door down on the left.”

“Thank you, Miz Stubbs.”

He nodded to her, turned into a paneled hallway, and rapped on the third door. A brisk voice called:

“Come.”

Matt opened the door. His boss, Trey Stubbs, was sitting behind a big desk with a pair of pince-nez glasses on his nose. Trey had bushy, salt and pepper hair, a ferocious mustache, and was always short on time. He got right to the point.

“You’ve been here for how long now, Matt?”

“It’s been two years last month, Mr. Stubbs.”

“Two years. That should’ve been long enough for you to learn the ropes.”

Matt stared at him and said nothing, and he went on.

“I’ve heard good things about you from my sons. They say you’re a good hand to work. That you’re a quick study. Trustworthy.”

Matt dropped his eyes to the carpet. He was afraid the irony was going to show on his face.

“We’re about to take the herd up the Goodnight-Loving to Denver. We could use another man. Do you want to go with us? You’ve been around this ranch long enough to know how hard that is. We need skilled men, men we can trust, and you fill the bill. It’ll be a tough trip, but you’d get a raise in pay.”

Matt rubbed his jaw. He sure could use more money. “I’d like that, Mr. Stubbs.”

“Good. Just go to Will. He’ll set you up.” Trey rose briefly, extended his hand, and Matt leaned across the desk to shake it.

“Thank you, Mr. Stubbs. I appreciate the chance.”

His boss nodded and went back to his paperwork and Matt walked out of the study and closed the door behind him. He walked out of the house with raised brows and pleasant surprise swirling in his chest. Slowly but surely, he was working his way back from his outlaw past. Building a normal life.

He skipped down the patio steps and out onto the lawn. Will was just coming in, and Matt held out his hand.

“Thanks for putting in a good word for me to your pa.”

Will shook his hand and shrugged. “I just told him the truth. You’re quick. You think on your feet. That’s saved us a half-dozen times I can think of. And it comes in real handy on a cattle drive. You’ll be a natural. Come down to the corral tomorrow morning, and I’ll give you a rundown. It’s not all that different from what you’re already doing.”

Matt nodded with real gratitude. “Thanks again, Will.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Matt walked back to his own home, or at least the place he’d been staying the last two years: the Rocking S bunkhouse. The scent of dinner met him halfway across the field that separated the ranch house and the bunkhouse, and it wasn’t quite as tempting as it had been at his boss’ house.

But he was grateful for it. He had friends now, men he liked and trusted. He had honest work, and while it didn’t pay much, at least he could lay his head on his pillow in peace.

That night he climbed into his bunk and dropped off as soon as he lay down. He dreamed he was a boy again, back at the orphanage with Beau and Harry. They’d sneaked out and gone down to the river to fish.

He smiled in his sleep, because they were throwing their lines into the water, joking around like they used to.

Harry was trying to bait his hook and was messing it up. Harry had always been a little slow, and Matt smiled and showed him how to do it. He watched Harry pull the pole back and cast it into the water with a plop, then turned to him with a grin.

Matt’s smile faded. He looked at Harry’s freckled, beaming face and mumbled, “I miss you, Harry.”

Harry laid his pole down and reached out, childlike, to hug him. “Wake up, Matt.”

Matt frowned. Wake up? They were fishing, and they were both wide awake.

“Wake up!”

Matt roused with a start and rolled wild eyes upward. Another cowhand was shaking his shoulder.

“Wake up, it’s five o’clock. It’ll be dawn soon.”

The other man walked away, and Matt realized, to his horror, that there were tears on his cheek. He glanced around, then wiped them off with the back of his hand before he rose to start the day.

Chapter Four

“Yeh, yeh! Yip yip yip!”

Matt yelled and moved his horse around the back of the herd, pushing the straggling cattle to join the others. The dust was choking him, and he was already hoarse, but he was a lowly drag rider, and bringing up the rear was his job.

He stopped for a minute to catch his breath and pulled his forearm across his brow. Trey had been right that it was tough work. They’d barely started, and already he was worn out. But he had something to prove. He wanted to show his boss he could cut it on the drive because he was hoping to work his way up to a better-paying job.

And hopefully an easier one.

Will rode up suddenly and yelled, “There’s a little town up ahead. Pa wants you to come with us. We’re going in when we get the cattle settled.”

Will turned and rode off. Matt almost slumped in relief. He’d been praying they’d stop long enough for him to get a drink of something cold and a bite to eat.

* * * * *

Thirty minutes later Matt was trailing along after Trey, Will, and the cook, a grizzled and grumpy fellow named Beans. The plan was that Trey and Beans would go to the mercantile for food and supplies, Will would go to the telegraph office to check for messages, and he’d go to the blacksmith to get some tools fixed.

The town of Las Vegas proved to be big by New Mexico standards, and after days on the desert it looked that way to Matt. He split off from the others in front of the mercantile and set off down the dusty main street to the blacksmith’s.

He found it at the end of the clapboard buildings that made up the main street. It was almost a lean-to, and the blacksmith was hard at work as he approached, bent over his forge and hammering the fire out of something.

“Excuse me.”

The sound of hammering went right on, and the blacksmith didn’t turn his head. Matt stuck his hands in his pockets and turned his voice up a few levels.

“Excuse me!”

The blacksmith glanced at him and went on hammering. “Whatever it is, you’re gonna have to come back later,” he called. “I’m busy right now.” The big man fetched the metal a thunderous blow, and sparks scattered over the sandy ground.

Matt set the sack of tools down at the smithy door, pulled his mouth to one side, and turned away. But at least now he had time to go grab something to eat while he was waiting. He started down the wooden sidewalk and was just reaching into his pocket to fish out some change for a meal when a commanding voice cried:

“Throw your gun on the ground and raise your hands!”
Matt raised startled eyes to see a shotgun barrel pointed at his chest. He lifted his hands, and for a moment the end of the barrel was all he saw. But gradually a pair of hard brown eyes on the other end came into focus, and a pretty face that looked strangely familiar. It was a young woman, dressed in a man’s baggy jacket and trousers, and with a slouch hat on her head. Her long black hair was worked into a shining braid over one shoulder.

His mouth dropped open. It couldn’t be, but it was: Rosa Mitchell.

The bounty hunter.

They’d met before when he was an outlaw, and by the scowl on her face, he could see that she hadn’t forgotten.

“I said throw your gun down!”

Matt swallowed and replied, “I’m throwing it down. Don’t get excited.” He reached slowly and carefully for his revolver and tossed it down on the road.

“Now march to the sheriff’s, Matthew Duncan, or I’ll shoot you down and drag you there!”
Matt felt his face going hot and glanced around. Some of the townsfolk were staring at them, and he could only pray that nobody in his outfit was seeing him get hauled away.

He pulled his mouth to one side and pleaded, “I threw my gun down, didn’t I? No need to raise your voice.” He straightened up and gathered as much of his tattered dignity as he could as a slip of a girl marched him down the street at gunpoint.

He didn’t get embarrassed easily, but it was the most humiliating thing to happen to him in years. Rank strangers turned their heads to stare as he passed by, hands in the air, with a double-barreled shotgun pointed at his back.

Still, he had to admit that Rosa had reason to be irritated. Years ago, he’d got wind of a trap she and her pa had laid for them. Because of him, the gang had slipped the net and got away clean. They’d laughed about that for weeks.

Rosa was clearly holding on to a grudge.

“Stop jabbing my back with that gun,” he complained, and Rosa jabbed him again.