Page 98 of Texas Destiny
“Dare.”
“Dare?” the man asked, incredulously.
Houston came slowly to his feet, used his thumb to push his hat up off his brow, and met the man’s gaze. “You got a problem with that?”
“Nah, ain’t got no problem with it at all.” He held out his hand. “I’m Colson. These here are my men.”
Ignoring the outstretched hand, Houston glanced quickly around the canyon. A makeshift corral held the stolen horses. The other horses were saddled and lightly tethered to the brush growing out of the rocks. They could be mounted in the blink of an eye and riding west a half-blink later. “You seem to have a lot more horses than you do men.”
“We collect ’em whenever fortune smiles on us. Can always find a man willing to pay for good horseflesh.”
“And the woman?”
Colson laughed knowingly. “Reckon men are willing to pay for that, too.”
“Reckon they are. Mind if I have a look-see?”
Colson rubbed his chin. “Not as long as all you do is look. She’ll be keeping me warm tonight.”
“Understood,” Houston said as he fought the urge to plow his fist into that ugly face. He damned the men for taking his revolver. Thank God, they’d left his rifle in the scabbard, although he didn’t know if it would do him much good in these close quarters. An idea came to him. He turned back to Colson, hoping the smile he gave the man looked as mean as it felt. “Mind if I have me a little innocent fun? I like to hear women scream.”
Colson narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by innocent?”
Houston jerked his head toward Amelia. “The way she’s worked her way into that crack, I figured she ain’t given any thought as to what’s in there with her. Women hate things with tiny legs. Just thought I’d mention them to her.”
Colson squatted before the fire. “I don’t think she’s the type to scream over a little bug, but it don’t bother me none if you have your fun.”
Houston walked as calmly as he could toward the far corner of the canyon, grateful no one objected when Sorrel followedhim.He was going to reward the horse with a whole basket of apples if they lived through this night.
Amelia had wedged herself into a large crack in the canyon wall. She carried a fresh bruise on her cheek, and it was all he could do not to turn around right then, yank his rifle out of the scabbard, and start shooting.
As he neared, he called out, “Little lady, scorpions and snakes sure do love to hide in the cool cracks.” He mouthed “scream,” and bless her heart, she did.
She released an ear-splitting scream as she catapulted out of the crack and lunged into his arms. The men surrounding them guffawed. A shot rang out.
As the thieves scrambled for cover, Houston wrapped his hands around Amelia’s waist and hoisted her into the saddle. She grabbed the horn. He mounted behind her and urged Sorrel into a gallop as a second shot ricocheted off the rocks.
“What the hell?” someone shouted.
Houston heard several more shots ring out. Particles of rock flew through the air, showering over them as they raced toward the entrance. Men hollered. Horses whinnied. All hell was breaking loose behind them, but he rode on without looking back.
He held Amelia as close as he could, using his body as a shield around her as much as possible as they tore through the mouth of the canyon. He heard a bullet whisper past his ear.
He kicked Sorrel’s sides, prodding her into a faster gallop. He saw the setting sun glint off a rifle and he kept riding. He heard the retort of more gunfire. He didn’t know how much time Dallas could buy them. He feared it wouldn’t be enough.
He felt a sharp bite in his arm. He glanced back. Three riders were galloping fast and furious from the mouth of the canyon. Leaning forward, he pulled his rifle from the scabbard. He looked back over his shoulder. The three riders were gaining on them. A horse with two riders couldn’t outrun a horse with one, no matter how fast he was.
“Take the reins!” he yelled.
Awkward as it was with her hands still bound, Amelia did as he instructed. His thighs hugging the horse, he pulled Amelia flush against him. “‘Keep riding!”
He took one last breath filled with her faint sweet scent. “I love you.”
With fluid motions, he released her, grabbed the back of the saddle, shoved hard, and propelled himself off the galloping horse, away from the pounding hooves. He hit the ground, rolled into a kneeling position, brought his rifle up, and fired.
Amelia had heard Houston’s words as though he’d whispered them in a field of flowers instead of on the open plains as they were riding hell-bent to get away. And then she had felt him leaving her … forever.
Against his wishes, she jerked back on the reins, fighting to bring the galloping horse to a staggering halt. She whirled Sorrel around just in time to see Houston shoot the second of three riders. The remaining rider fired his rifle. Houston jerked back, his arms flailing out to the side.
