Once a Hero Read online

  Isabel loved horses. He remembered hearing it in her voice when she admired his Appaloosa mares. His stud was a blooded Morgan, gentle as a baby, more cow sense than any other horse he had ridden and he could outwalk, outrun and outrace any horse put against him. Coal-black with a long narrow band of white from his forehead down to his muzzle, the Prince was Kee’s prized possession.

  And he had every intention of bringing him four of the best mares he could find. Just as soon as he helped Isabel out of her troubles. And he had a few scores to settle of his own with Benton, Alf and Muley Cotton.

  Kee had his palm on the ground to help him rise when he felt the vibrations of the horses. Slowly, he moved to a crouched position. The very last thing he wanted to do was to spook the horses.

  There was just enough daylight left for him to see that he’d been right about the tracks. Outlaw came in first, circling the spring, sniffing the air before he nickered to the other horses and then trotted back to stay with them with all the innate caution bred into the mustang.

  Kee whistled.

  Outlaw’s head came up. His whinny blended with Kee’s voice.

  “Easy boy. Easy now. You’ve had a rough time, you and these pretty ladies.” Crooning softly, Kee worked his way around the spring and ever closer to where the horses bunched together.

  He wasn’t worried about the mustang bolting, but those mares were fresh off wild range and would run.

  Outlaw trotted toward Kee, offering his nose first for petting before he butted Kee’s shoulder. “Take it easy, you rangy coyote. While you were sparking these here gals, I was getting shot.”

  The mustang tossed his head and nickered. Kee smiled for the first time that day. It was almost as if the horse was laughing at him for not having his horse sense. He rubbed the animal’s neck, all the while he kept talking softly to put the other horses at ease.

  Despite an inner urgency, Kee forced himself to be patient. He approached each horse, let them smell him, and made sure every one got a good scratching between their ears.

  But he had a problem now in what to do with his animals while he went after Isabel. There was no place to leave them, and running loose they were sure to attract some lone rider’s attention. In the end the decision was taken from him. Outlaw wasn’t going anywhere without them. And Kee knew he had too much invested in the horses not to take them.

  At daybreak he found the trail he’d been hunting.

  About midmorning he discovered that one of the horses carried double. He paid special attention to that horse’s tracks. He also noted their general direction headed toward Weaver’s Needle. Kee spurred his mount and pushed him for all he was worth. The chances of losing them in the twisting canyons was too great.

  Off to the west was Superstition Mountain. The Pima Indians called it Kakatak Tamai, Crooked-Top Mountain and others just named it Killer, for all the lives it claimed.

  Kee spied a game trail heading upward and on impulse took it. Nothing scared off the mustang and Kee was glad he was riding him, for the trail cut through and over rock, in some places no more than a foot wide.

  But he made the top and was able to see for miles around in the clear desert air. No sign of a fire, no sign of dust. He’d either lost them, or they had made camp for the night.

  Water. It was the one thing they needed, and the one thing that would lead him to them.

  While there was light enough he studied the land, looking for cottonwoods. When that failed, he racked his mind for every bit of trail talk that he had heard of the area. Most times he picked up information over a drink in a saloon from some cowhand who rode over the area. Word was passed along in cafés, the bathhouses or the general store.

  He knew about the spring, and farther north were lakes, but there was something…

  He neck-reined the mustang to turn when he spotted two horsemen coming out of a draw. Too far to identify them, Kee thought of the odds that it wasn’t the men he trailed.

  “Let’s go. We got to get lucky this time.”

  Kee used every skill he possessed to move unseen to the mouth of the draw, and even then he made no direct approach to enter it. The two riders were long gone, but he didn’t know to where or when they would return. If they did come back.

  He staked out the horses far enough away so they would not be seen or heard. Swapping his boots for his moccasins, Kee made his way back to the draw and climbed to where he could see below.

  The last rays of the sun slanted across the land, creating shadows. He quietly studied the brush and rocks, sniffing the air for a hint of wood smoke, but there was nothing. Discouraged, he went back to his horses.

  Whoever those riders were, they didn’t leave Isabel behind in that draw with anyone to guard her.

  But then Kee thought about Benton and Alf. Muley he didn’t know, but he was the one who betrayed Isabel.

  Would these men worry about building a fire for her? If they had what they wanted from her…

  Kee raced back to the draw. The need to find her had built a fever in his blood, yet survival instincts made him move with caution. He listened to the sounds of night-prowling animals, the slight rustle of brush as a breeze sprang up. It was a trick that his uncle Ty had taught him. To listen with all senses, identify what was naturally there. Less surprises for a man that way.

  As he worked his way inside the draw, Kee felt a change come over him. He knew Isabel was near. Nothing cried out to him, only the sharp sense that he was right.

  Then he heard what he’d been listening for…that one out-of-place sound. Like cloth rubbing against rock or brush. The sound a man makes when he has been in one position too long.

  Kee had no use for his gun now. He wanted his knives. He slid out the one he wore down the back of his neck inside his shirt, and lifted the one from his belt. There could be one or two waiting for him.

  Trouble was, he didn’t know if one of them might be the other woman.

  He circled where he heard the sound, most of the time crawling on his belly. Tension gripped his body. This was going to be close and tight. The very absence of all the little night sounds told him how close he was to his quarry. He had not heard a sound from Isabel, but the feeling that she was close persisted.

  Kee had one knee under him ready to rise. There was a solidness to the bulk shadow a few feet in front of him that resembled a seated man.

  “Did you hear that?”

  The whisper sent Kee to his belly again. It did not come from in front of him, but off to the side. Two, then.

  And the one closest to him was the smart one. He didn’t answer, didn’t make a move or any sound.

  Kee stretched his hand out in a search for small rocks. He found three. Slowly rolling over so as not to make a sound, he threw them quickly in different directions.

  He was already moving when bullets flew, all away from him. He grabbed hold of the man sitting on the rock, his knife pressed against his throat.

  “Move and you’re dead.” Kee breathed the words into the man’s ear. To make sure the man understood, Kee nicked his skin. “Call your partner over here.”

  Kee had his head pulled back, and couldn’t see the man’s face clearly. He saw the reflected gleam of his eyes darting from one side to the other.

  “Do it!” Kee ordered. “Now.”

  “Muley,” came the man’s whisper.

  “Louder,” Kee demanded, his eyes searching out the darkness before him for any sign of movement.

  “Muley, get out here.”

  Kee yanked the man’s rifle free and swung the butt at his head, knocking him out in one smooth move.

  There was silence then, the edgy, dangerous silence of the hunt.

  Then Kee was rewarded.

  “Benton?”

  Kee grunted, hoping to draw Muley out in the open.

  But the silence grew, and Kee knew this Muley was not one to be easily gulled.

  Suddenly Kee heard something off to his right. He crouched down. He caught a glimpse of
a dull gleam, then it was gone. The man was moving, trying to circle around him. Kee gauged where the rifle fire had come from. He was directly across the draw from the place. Where the man had been might be Isabel, and that was all he really cared about now. Finding her.

  And Muley gave him the opportunity. He had just found Benton.

  Kee saw him stand and threw his knife. His long legs ate up the distance and nearly tripped him when he stumbled over a body. He never heard the man’s grunt.

  “Isabel?” He reached out with one hand to touch.

  A mewling noise came in response.

  Kee found the gag and cut it free. He wasted no time talking, found the rope that tied her wrists to her ankles and sliced through them.

  “Wait here,” he told her. He was going back for his knife. He understood her sudden grip on his arm; she must be frightened out of her mind.

  He didn’t understand why she knocked his hat off. He didn’t understand why she grabbed his hair and yanked it.

  But he sure got the message that this wasn’t Isabel when her teeth sank into his knife hand.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Muley. I’ve got him.”

  “Like hell you do, lady.” Kee shoved her away from him. She’d torn his skin and his hand bled.

  “I’m hurt. Caught his knife in my shoulder. He’s all yours.”

  If Kee had expected teeth and nails, he got a surprise. She drew a knife on him. And the way she slashed toward him, he didn’t have time to be shocked.

  Served him right. He bowed his body to avoid her wicked thrust. He’d spent so much time wondering about the other woman that some devil decided to show him what he’d been missing.

  Kee jumped back. He didn’t want to use his knife against her, but he was damned if he was going to let her slice him like some dumb rabbit.

  He feinted to his right, weaved left and caught her wrist in his powerful hand. “Drop the knife or I’ll break it.” He barely missed being kicked. Still holding her wrist, Kee spun her around and locked his other arm around her. He kept her pinned to his body, her arms useless, and ignored every backward kick that she landed.

  “Where’s Isabel?”

  “She rode off with Alf.”

  “I’ll just bet she did.” Kee had never hurt a woman in his life, but his temper was close to breaking. He couldn’t let her go, and he wasn’t going to kill her.

  The strain of holding on to the twisting, spitting woman set his wound to bleeding. She was still gripping her knife and he didn’t trust her not to use it on him if he turned her loose.

  But the blood dripping down his arm said time was running out. Kee moved fast. He loosened his armhold, turned her toward him and clipped her chin with just enough force to put her down. He disarmed her. Working quickly, he used the piggin’ strings he always carried to tie her up. It had been a while since he had roped and thrown a calf after roundup in competition with other cowhands. He still had the skill to move fast.

  He left her, staggering a little as he hunted Muley.

  “You will die for this.”

  Kee ignored this threat and the ones that followed him. He tore off his neckerchief and tied it around the pad on his arm. The fight, the tension, the fear for Isabel, all took its toll on him. He felt himself weakening.

  Muley wasn’t hard to find. His moaning led Kee right to him. Here was a man, and Kee had no desire to be charitable.

  “You want that knife out? You tell me who that woman is, what she wants with Isabel, and where Alf took her.”

  “You’re a real bastard to stand there and watch me bleed like a stuck pig. You know I can’t pull this knife by my ownself. You up to living with killing a man for doing the job he’s paid for? Huh? You gonna just stand there jawing away at me?”

  Kee had never knowingly killed a man. He had never wanted to cross that line until now. And he was smart enough to understand he wouldn’t live easy with that decision.

  But Muley couldn’t know that. Must not, Kee warned himself.

  “You want the knife out then start talking and don’t stop until I say so.” The threat was enough. Muley talked.

  Kee could barely sit the saddle when he rode away, taking their horses with him. For the woman’s sake he left the three of them two canteens and their guns. They weren’t going far on foot in this rough country.

  The trap in the draw had been laid for him. All the planning of the woman who claimed to be Ken-tee’s daughter. Everything had been set with Isabel as bait, but she confessed that she had buried the map back at the cliff dwelling. Something about that smacked false to Kee.

  That gold was so important to Isabel, he couldn’t see her willingly giving over that map. Worthless or not. There was something else, something he’d missed.

  And the only way he was going to have all the answers was to head her and Alf off.

  What he needed was a place to wait. Outside the draw, he pulled up near his own horses. He stripped the three saddles and covered them with brush. Not quite hidden, they would slow their owners down. He couldn’t turn their horses loose, so he added them to his string.

  Riding Outlaw he hunted his place.

  And when he found it, all he wanted to do was close his red-rimmed eyes and sleep. He couldn’t even chance taking care of his wound, afraid he’d be caught and unable to help Isabel. But it hurt like somebody stomped a mudhole in him, then stomped it dry.

  The moon rose shiny as a new ten-dollar gold piece. While the spread of light made it easier for Kee to observe the land around him it also revealed the dry wash that barely concealed the horses. But no one could approach the draw without passing him.

  All he had to do was wait and not pass out.

  He kept thinking back to Muley’s claim that the woman was Ken-tee’s daughter. He worried it over like a tongue probing at a sore tooth.

  Isabel told him that the Apache believed Ken-tee betrayed them and told Walz about the gold. If this woman was Apache, she wouldn’t touch that gold. Not when the place was home to their Thunder god.

  Yet Muley swore a blue streak that it was true.

  Since Kee had been pulling his knife free, he tended to believe Muley’s screamed words.

  Kee roused himself. He took a long, careful look around. Deadly as the desert land could be at night, for him it held a certain beauty, too. The gilding on the rocks, the play of shadow, the soft rustling night noises, the whisper of the wind. He caught himself nodding off. The far-off yipping of a coyote snapped him alert. He walked among the horses, his own calm, the others restive. But Kee had a way with them, none shied at his touch or the soft sound of his voice.

  He wished he could take the chance and ride back to the cliff dwelling. Isabel had escaped them once on her own. She was smart enough to look for another opportunity.

  But what if she couldn’t get away from Alf? His wound was slight, he had lost her once, so he’d be wary.

  The sudden appearance of a hard-ridden horse off in the distance held Kee’s attention. He searched for the second rider. There wasn’t any.

  “I’ll kill that bastard if he hurt Isabel.” Only Outlaw heard the furious words as Kee mounted and raced out of the hollow to intercept the other rider.

  He had to admire the other rider’s skill for pushing his horse over dangerous terrain at night. But he cursed under his breath in the next moment for forcing him to do the same.

  They closed, and as they did, Kee realized that the stocky body of Alf was not the one on the horse.

  Before he could call out, believing it to be Isabel, the rider veered away. That damn woman was going to get him killed yet. He shouted her name, swearing when she didn’t pull up. Urging the mustang to give all he had, Kee went after her.

  Isabel tasted the bitterness of defeat. She rode blindly, whipping the reins back and forth over the animal’s neck, desperate to get away from the rider that approached her.

  Terror for Kee was her constant companion. Had been since she had left him. She knew what
they planned for him. Knowing Kee, he would walk into their trap in the belief that he was rescuing her.

  The tense knot in her belly suddenly expanded to encompass her body. Blood pounded in her ears, just like the horse’s hooves thundered against the earth. She could barely hear the rider’s shout as he raced to close in on her.

  Tension, fear and resolve stiffened her spine. At any moment she expected warning shots to be fired. He would not shoot to kill her, but he would shoot her horse.

  She could not stop. She had to stay free. It was the only way she could help Kee after all he had done for her.

  Her horse stumbled. Only Isabel’s skill saved her from a fall. She would either kill the animal or herself if she kept up this pace.

  The cold desert night wind slapped her face. She sensed rather than saw how near the other rider was to her.

  She realized he was attempting to pull ahead and box her in. Flecks of foam flew from her hard-ridden animal. Kee! she cried silently. She had no choice.

  Isabel did not slow a bit as she turned her horse. She still hoped for a way out. Fear had dried her mouth and throat. Her heart pounded like a small captured songbird beating its wings against the reed cage.

  Where to go?

  Massive rocks loomed ahead. She swung her horse away. The animal’s stride faltered.

  Panic was the one thing she could not give in to. But all she felt was the utter hopelessness of getting away.

  The horse went through a scattering of boulders. The animal’s stride was broken, and Isabel knew she would not have more than a few minutes. This was not her golden horse whose great heart would carry her like the wind for hours. She kicked free of the stirrups and attempted to slow the crazed animal who had given her all he had.

  He went down in soft sand and she tumbled free. Then she was up and running.

  Only the rider was there, his horse cutting off her every dodge. Wild-eyed she stood still, chest heaving, body shaking.

  “Isabel? What the devil were you thinking of leading me to hell and gone?” Kee kicked free of the stirrup, and swung his long leg over to dismount. She hadn’t moved.