Nora Roberts: Lawless

His face changed again. He looked petulant now, like a boy who had been denied an extra piece of pie.

“I was very annoyed that my brother and Donley killed Matt. Clumsy. They were only to…convince him to turn over the deed. Then, of course, it was up to me to think of causing the cave-in to cover up what they’d done. I never found the deed. But I found your picture.”

She didn’t think he was aware of how viciously his fingers were digging into her arms. She was almost certain he was no longer aware of how much he was telling her. She remained silent and still, knowing her only hope now was time.

“Delicate,” he murmured. “Such a delicate face. The innocence shining in the eyes, the soft curve of the mouth. It was a lie, wasn’t it, Sarah?” The violence sprang back into his face, and she could only shake her head and wait. “There was no delicacy, no innocence. You toyed with me, offering me smiles, only smiles, while you gave yourself to Redman like a whore. He should be dead for touching what belonged to me. You should both be dead.”

She prepared to scream. She prepared to fight for what she knew was her life.

“Sam!” The banging on the door brought with it a mixture of fear and relief.

Swearing, Carlson dragged Sarah to the door to unlock it. “Goddamn it, I told you to go back and get rid of the wagon and team.”

“Riders coming in.” The sweat on Jim’s face attested to the fact that he had already ridden, and ridden hard. “It’s Redman and the sheriff, with some men from town.” He glanced at Sarah. “They’ll be looking for her.”

When Sarah tried to break away, Samuel locked an arm around her throat. “You’ve ruined everything, bringing her here.”

“I only did it ‘cause you wanted her. I could’ve taken care of her back on the road. Hell, I could’ve taken care of her the night we torched her shed, but you said you didn’t want her hurt none.”

Carlson tightened his grip as Sarah clawed at his arm. Her vision grayed from lack of air. As if from a distance, she heard the voices, one mixing into the other.

“How long?”

“Ten minutes, no more… Kill her now.”

“Not here, you idiot… Hold them off… In the hills.”

Sarah’s last thought before she lost consciousness was that Jake was coming, but too late.

“You listen to me.” Barker stopped the men on the rise above the Carlson ranch. But it was Jake he was looking at. “I know you’d like to ride in there hellbent, but you take a minute to think. If they’ve got her, we’ve got to go slow.”

“They’ve got her.” In his mind, the Carlson brothers were already dead.

“Then let’s make sure we get her back in one piece.

Will, I want you to break off, ease on over to the Barn.

John, I’d be obliged if you’d circle around the back. I don’t want any shooting until it’s necessary.” With a nod, he spurred his horse.

Jim watched them coming and wiped the sweat off his brow. His men were all out on the range. Not that they’d have been any good, he thought. The only one who’d have backed them against the sheriff was Doney. And he was dead. Wetting his lips, he levered the rifle in the window.

He had to wait until they got close. That was what Sam had told him. Wait until they got close. Then he was to kill as many as he could. Starting with Redman.

Sweat dripped down into his eyes. His fingers twitched.

Sam had sent Donley to kill Redman, Jim remembered. But it was Donley who’d been buried. Now he was going to do it. He wet his lips when he caught Jake in the sight. He was going to do it right. But nerves had his finger jerking on the trigger.

Jake felt the bullet whiz past his cheek. Like lightning, he kicked one foot free of the stirrup to slide halfway down the side of his horse. Gun drawn, he rode toward the house while Barker shouted orders.

He could hear the men scrambling for cover and returning fire, but his mind was on one thing and one thing alone.

Getting inside to Sarah.

Outside the doors, he leaped off. When he kicked them open, his second gun was drawn. The hall and the foyer were empty. He could hear the shouts of men and peppering gunfire. With a quick glance for any sign of her, he started up the stairs.

Jim Carlson’s back was to him when he broke open the door.

“Where is she?” Jake didn’t flinch when a bullet from outside plowed into the wall beside him.

From his crouched position, Jim turned slowly.

“Sam’s got her.” With a grin, he swung his rifle up.

For months he’d wanted another chance to kill Jake Redman. Now he took it.

He was still grinning as he fell forward. Jake slid his smoking guns back in their holsters. Moving quickly, he began to search the house.

Barker met him on the steps. “She ain’t here. I found this on the floor.” In his hand he held Sarah’s miniature.

Jake’s eyes flicked up to Barker’s. They held there only seconds, but Barker knew he would never forget the look in them. Later he would tell his wife it was the look of a man whose soul had gotten loose.

Turning on his heel, Jake headed outside, with Barker close behind.

“Oh, God.” For the first time since Jake had known him, Barker moved with speed. Pushing past Jake, he raced to where two of his men were carrying Will Metcalf.

“He isn’t dead.” John Cody laid Will down and held his head. “But we have to get him back to town, to the doc.”

Barker crouched down as Will’s eyes fluttered open.

“You’re going to be all right, son.”

“Took me by surprise,” Will managed, struggling not to gasp at the pain as Cody pressed a pad to the hole in his shoulder. “Was Sam Carlson, Sheriff. He had her-I saw he had her on the horse. Think they headed west.”

“Good job, Will.” Barker used his own bandanna to wipe the sweat off his deputy’s brow. “One of you men hitch up a wagon, get some blankets. You get this boy to the doctor, John. Redman and I’ll go after Carlson.”

But when he stood, all he saw of Jake was the dust his mustang kicked up as he galloped west.

Sarah came to slowly, nausea rising in her throat. Moaning, she choked it back and tried to lift a hand to her spinning head. Both wrists were bound tight to the saddle horn.

For a moment she thought she was still with Jim.

Then she remembered.

The horse was climbing, picking its way up through dusty, dung-colored rock. She watched loose dirt and stones dislodged by the horse’s hooves fall down a dizzying ravine. The man behind her was breathing hard. Fighting for calm, she tried to mark the trail they were taking and remember it. When she escaped-and she would-she didn’t intend to wander helplessly through the rocks.

He stopped the horse near the edge of a canyon.

She could see the thin silver line of a river far below. An eagle called as he swooped into the wide opening, then returned to a nest built in the high rock wall. “Samuel, please-” She cried out when he pulled the rope from around her wrists and dragged her roughly to the ground. One look warned her that the calm, sane words she had meant to use would never reach him.

There was a bright, glazed light in his eyes. His face was pale and drenched with sweat. His hair was dark with it. She watched his eyes dart here and there, as if he expected something to leap out from behind a huddle of rock.

The man who had swept off his hat and kissed her fingers wasn’t here with her now. If he had ever been part of Samuel Carlson, he had vanished. The man who stood over her was mad, and as savage as any beast that lived in the hills.

“What are you going to do?”

“He’s coming.” Still breathing rapidly, Carlson swiped a hand over his mouth. “I saw him behind us. When he comes for you, I’ll be ready.” He reached down to drag her to her feet.