His eyes widened for a moment and then hardened to match hers. “Yes. You are.”
He wasn’t going to shut her out of this. She wouldn’t let him. “Be practical,” she urged. “I have a few ideas about how to rescue our daughter.” When he didn’t interrupt her, she plunged ahead. “I know how to handle a weapon, and you need all the able-bodied people you can get to face down Petchey.”
The instant the words were out of her mouth, she knew she’d made a tactical error. Gideon’s face reddened, and a muscle in his cheek twitched. He yanked off his hat and beat it against his thigh with enough force to send up a small storm of dust.
“That’s exactly why I want you away from here, Addie! The man shot your horse and probably would have shot you if he’d had his way. I’ve been out of my head with worry all morning, and now that I have you back safe, there’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near that monster.”
“You’re the one he wants dead, not me.” Adelaide’s arm flung out at him in accusation. “He already tried his hand at it once, and I don’t aim to give him a second chance because you don’t have enough men watching your back. Even if you don’t want me around, you need Miguel.” Adelaide made an effort to douse her rising temper before it blazed completely out of control. She inhaled, then continued in a calmer voice. “I can help, Gideon. I’m not a fool. I’ll stay out of the way and let you handle things. But someone will need to look out for Isabella while you men are going after Petchey. Let me do that. Please.”
He looked away, staring into the sky. The muscles in his jaw continued to flex and flinch as if he were physically chewing over her words. She pressed her lips together and waited.
He turned back and glared at her, pointing his hat at her as if it were a finger. “You do everything I tell you and stay out of sight when we catch up to him.”
Before he could change his mind, she nodded acceptance of his terms. “I promise. Thank you, Gideon.”
He grumbled something under his breath, then slapped his hat on and marched over to his horse. He mounted and walked Solomon over to her, offering her a frown as well as his arm.
Even out of sorts, he was a marvelous man. She smiled and held her hand up to him. He grasped her just above the elbow, but instead of lifting, he leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“You had better not get hurt, Addie. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” Love blended with anxiety in his eyes, and her heart softened.
“I’ll do my best,” she said, “but I need the same from you. I just got done putting you back together. I’m not ready to go through that again.”
A hint of a smile played around the corners of his mouth. “It’s a deal.”
She braced her foot in his stirrup to relieve him of most of her weight as he swung her up onto Solomon’s back and settled behind the cantle. Adelaide reached her right arm around to Gideon’s front and folded it against his upper torso in order to avoid gripping his wounded stomach. His muscles gave a little leap in response, and she couldn’t resist opening her palm and pressing it against his firm chest. His heart thudded just beneath her fingers.
James rode up beside them. “Did Petchey say anything when he took Isabella?”
Adelaide started. She straightened and began to pull her hand away, but Gideon reached up and held it in place. Suddenly everything seemed much brighter.
She grinned up at James. “I’ll tell you on the way. Let’s go.”
They followed Petchey’s tracks for about a mile before Gideon called a halt with a wave of his arm. They were nearing the border of his property, and he thought he remembered a run-down building somewhere in the area. He motioned the others forward and pointed toward a stand of trees ahead and to the left.
“Isn’t there a small shack on the other side of those mesquite, Miguel?”
The vaquero scanned the area, squinting into the afternoon sun. “Sí. I think so, patrón.”
“It would be a good place to hide out if you wanted to be close enough to keep an eye on the ranch,” James said.
Gideon nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
Adelaide raised her head from where it had rested against his back, and a cool breeze brushed away the residual warmth. Gideon squeezed her arm against his side with his bicep to keep her from letting go. She felt so good snuggled up to him, but having her near also set him on edge. He still wanted to send her home, away from the danger, but it was too late for that now. Oh, he knew she’d keep her head. She always did. But stray bullets didn’t distinguish between innocent young women and the men they were intended to kill.
God, protect her when I can’t. And guard Bella through all of this, too.
Steeling himself against the fear that coursed through him, Gideon turned his attention to his foreman. “Take Addie and circle around to the back, Miguel. Keep to the trees, out of sight. I don’t know if he has other men with him or not. Secure whatever horses are there and wait for James and me to make our move.”
He slipped his foot out of the stirrup so Adelaide could dismount. Her body rubbed against his as she slid down to the ground. He savored the sensations her softness evoked. His gaze trailed over her face, memorizing each line and curve. She’d been his wife for little more than a fortnight, but she owned his heart. If anything happened to her, he’d be lost.
Gideon drew his rifle from its scabbard and handed it to her. “Use this if you have to, but don’t wade into the fray.”
Her hands closed around the weapon. “Be careful, Gideon.”
He had a lifetime of living to do with this woman, and he planned to make sure they both came through this escapade unscathed.
“Petchey will no doubt be waiting for us, armed and ready, so James and I will approach through the trees, as well. We’ll keep to cover and see if we can talk our way in. Then we’ll have to improvise, but our first priority will be getting Bella out before any violence erupts.”
Gideon looked over his tiny army, feeling much like his namesake, the reluctant biblical warrior who went into battle with a handful of soldiers to face a mighty enemy. God had brought about victory for his counterpart. Hopefully history would repeat itself.
Peering into the distance in front of him, Gideon visualized the shack and the thick grove of trees that surrounded it on two sides. He imagined where he would hide. How he would approach the building. Where Bella would likely be. Then his eyes drifted higher.
“May the Lord grant us victory and keep us safe from harm.”
A chorus of somber amens sealed the prayer, and the unlikely group of warriors headed into battle.
Chapter 41
Adelaide held the rifle tight to her shoulder as Miguel crept up to the side of the shack. Her stomach cramped as she watched. He was so exposed beyond the trees. If one of the horses balked or even nickered too loudly, he’d be discovered. Then she’d have to fire at Petchey and whomever was with him to allow Miguel time to escape. She’d never shot at a human being before. The very idea made her ill.
Leaning the shoulder of her support arm heavily against the large mesquite that shielded her, Adelaide inhaled a slow breath through her nose. She held it for a minute and then blew it out through her mouth in a long, gentle stream, keeping her eyes focused on Miguel and the small window at the back of the ramshackle building.
Fortunately there were only two horses, so he would be able to gather them both in one trip. It also boded well for Gideon. If the number of men inside the shack matched the number of horses, their odds would be even. Except for the fact that Petchey had a hostage. And the advantage of a protected position. And no conscience.
Adelaide fought off a shiver. It wouldn’t do to get distracted by negativity.
Miguel took hold of the first horse, then the second. Adelaide’s pulse stuttered. He stroked and petted the beasts for a moment before urging them away. The smaller roan followed meekly, with no protest, but Petchey’s buckskin tossed his head and snorted. The soft jangle of his bri
dle rang like the clattering of kitchen pans in Adelaide’s ears. Miguel held his ground, only glancing toward the building for a brief second before focusing again on the horses. He scratched the buckskin behind his ears and whispered to him until he calmed. After that, both horses were content to amble along behind him.
Miguel led the animals past her. She smiled at him but kept her rifle at the ready and her attention on the shack. After securing the confiscated horses near their own mounts several yards away, he was to circle around and signal Gideon before returning to assist her. She would be the sole line of rear defense until then. A duty she didn’t relish but was determined to fulfill.
Step one of their plan had been completed successfully. However, the cramping in her stomach only worsened. Step two was twice as dangerous. And Gideon was the one taking all the risks. Even as the thought flitted through her mind, she heard her husband’s voice explode through the clearing.
“I got your message, Petchey.”
The stirring and scrambling in the shack led Adelaide to believe Petchey had not been watching for their arrival.
“So the little governess lived to tell the tale, eh?” Petchey’s words resonated from the front of the shack. “I presume you’ve come to make a deal.”
“Yes. I will not negotiate with Bella’s life,” Gideon shouted. “I know what you are capable of, how you were behind the recent attack on my life. One of the men who rides with me is a lawyer. Let us in. I’m prepared to discuss the forfeiture of all rights to Isabella and her fortune.”
The viscount offered no immediate response. Adelaide pressed her lips together in a tight line. So much of their plan hinged on his allowing Gideon and James into the cabin.
“You refer to Mr. Bevin, I presume,” Petchey finally answered. “As I recall, he has quite a talent for twisting things to appear one way when the truth is something else entirely. A particular map comes to mind. I don’t trust your man.”
“You travel with a solicitor of your own,” Gideon replied. “The two men can work together to compose the document to your specifications. Mr. Farnsworth can look out for your interests.”
Several seconds ticked by in silence.
“Very well.”
Adelaide sagged against the tree trunk in relief.
“But I need a show of good faith from you,” Petchey called out. “Come into the clearing and lay your weapons on the ground where I can see them. I’m not so foolish as to let you come into my little domicile armed.”
Gideon had warned her of such a demand, and she knew he and James would comply. They would do whatever it took to get into that shack, to get to Isabella. Adelaide pictured her husband in her mind’s eye—unbuckling his gun belt, sliding it off his hip, and dropping it to the ground. Defenseless. It was the only way, yet listening to the scene unfold was torture. She wanted to see what was going on, to have the assurance that Gideon was safe. Without a weapon, God would be his only protection. She scrunched her eyes closed and prayed from the depths of her soul.
“The guns are down, Petchey,” Gideon said. “I’m ready to work out a solution. It’s not worth more bloodshed.”
“Ah, but I think it is.”
A gunshot exploded, and the sound cut straight through Adelaide’s heart. The rifle fell from her grasp. She moaned and covered her ears.
No!
Gideon dove to his left as pain seared his upper arm. A second shot rang out. Then a third. He rolled and crawled until the shadow of the mesquite thicket covered him once again. Scrambling backward on his heels and palms, he positioned himself behind one of the larger trunks and pressed his back into the natural shield.
He stole a quick glance around to the side. James had nearly made the tree line. Gunfire cracked again. He pulled his head back just as a bullet slammed into the tree above his shoulder.
Reginald Petchey was a good shot.
A fifth blast echoed across the clearing. James yelled out in pain. Gideon jumped to his feet, careful to keep the tree between him and the line shack while he looked for his friend. On the ground several feet away, James clutched his right leg and dragged himself with one arm to a spot behind a tree.
Thank God he was still alive. Gideon ran his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. His hat along with his guns lay abandoned in the clearing. Inaccessible. Not that he would have returned fire anyway. He couldn’t risk Bella falling victim to a stray bullet. But he missed the feeling of security his weapon afforded.
What was he supposed to do now? He’d failed to talk his way into Petchey’s lair. He had no weapon. One of his men was down, and Bella was no closer to rescue.
He pounded his fist into the mesquite, but the punishment brought no new ideas. Time. He needed time to figure out what to do. He didn’t yet know how to help Bella, but he could help James. In the meantime, perhaps his friend would be able to come up with a solution.
Running deeper into the trees, Gideon dodged back and forth between the cover they offered before making his way back up to James’s position. No further shots were fired, so either Petchey didn’t see his movement or the viscount was content to wait for a more exposed target.
Gideon reached James just as the man tried to tie a handkerchief around his thigh.
“Did it pass through?” Gideon asked as he took over the task of wrapping the wound.
James hissed in pain and clenched a fistful of grass and soil in a white-knuckled grip. “Don’t think so,” he ground out. “It’s not bleeding too badly, but it hurts like the very devil. I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you from here on out.”
Gideon tightened the knot on the handkerchief and sat back on his heels. “I need your brain more than your legs right now. We need to determine a way to get past Petchey without our weapons.”
“You can have mine, patrón.”
Gideon spun around in a crouch, fists at the ready.
“Miguel! Where did you come from?”
The vaquero shrugged. “I hear the shooting and make my way back.”
“You were supposed to stay with Adelaide.” Gideon didn’t know if he wanted to embrace the man or shake him.
“She is fine. Better than the two of you.” His gaze drifted down Gideon’s arm.
Gideon held his elbow out and examined his upper arm. In all the excitement, he had forgotten about the injury. His shirt gaped open below the shoulder. A bright red line creased his skin and blood trickled down into his sleeve, but most of it had started to dry already.
“It’s only a graze. James got the worst of it.”
James grunted as he pushed his back more securely against the tree trunk. “I’ll be all right. I can use Miguel’s pistol to lay down cover if you want to go after the other guns.”
“Not yet.” Gideon shook his head. “I can’t risk shooting into the building without knowing where Bella is. We need to come up with another plan.”
The men fell silent. Miguel lowered himself to the ground with the others. “There is a small window in the back. I got the horses away without being noticed. I can use the window to find the girl, see where she is in the building.”
Gideon scratched the stubble emerging along his chin. “Perhaps. But we would have no way of knowing if she moved before we started firing. I’m not willing to put her in jeopardy.”
Miguel nodded, and conversation lulled once again. Ideas were scarce. Gideon fought the panic that rose inside him as each minute ticked by with no solution. Unable to come up with anything better, though, he finally gave the order for Miguel to follow through on his suggestion. There had to be a way to rescue Isabella. They just needed to find it.
Chapter 42
The silence pressed on Adelaide like a lead shawl, hunching her shoulders and crushing her to her knees. Gideon couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t. Surely the Lord wouldn’t restore his health only to have him fall prey to a madman’s bullet. Yet why else would Petchey stop firing? He didn’t seem the kind to grant mercy. On the other hand, she heard no evidenc
e of celebration from within the shack, either. Maybe there was still hope.
Adelaide planted the butt of the rifle in the earth and used the barrel like a cane as she pushed to her feet. She looked around, trying to regain a sense of equilibrium in a world that was spinning out of control.
Logic slowly seeped past the chaos of her emotions and into her brain. She began to process her predicament. Miguel had not returned. He must have gone to help Gideon when the shooting broke out. Good. Her husband needed him more than she did. But what if he hadn’t returned because he, too, had been shot down? What if they were all dead?
Nausea churned through her with sudden violence. She closed her eyes and forced air into her lungs, resisting the urge to retch. A fierce desire to run through the trees until she found the men bombarded her. She needed to know how they fared. But something held her back.
Isabella.
If the men were indeed gone, she was the only one left to save Izzy. Slowly, Adelaide turned back and focused once again on the shack.
The window beckoned, sparking an idea. A crazy, illogical idea, but what else did she have? Only her faith and an ounce of courage to act upon it.
“For such a time as this.” The words Mordecai spoke to Esther echoed in her mind and resonated in her spirit. She was in the right place at the right time. It had to be the Lord’s will.
Adelaide took a tentative step away from the shelter of the trees. Nothing happened. She curled her fingers around the rifle and held it loosely in her fist as she stepped again, farther this time. No bullets pelted her. The earth didn’t quake. She locked her eyes on the small window, grateful that there was no glass and no oilcloth, and walked. Every time the grass crunched under her feet, she prayed.
She reached the shack wall and flattened herself against the warped boards. Her heart racing at a gallop, she turned her head just enough to peer through the opening with one eye. Petchey stood near the door with his back to her, his gun hand propped against the side of the window.