Shadow Walker Read online

  Clint snapped his fingers and added more of an edge to his voice when he said, “If you don’t want to help, I’ll be sure to let Coltraine know about it when I see him.”

  “He said him and his men were camped about a mile east of here,” Bray said. “I didn’t ask for any more than that.”

  “There now,” Clint said with a grin, “that wasn’t so hard.”

  Rachel allowed Clint to grab her by the arm and shove her out the door. Even though he was the one handling her, it was all she could do to keep from hauling off and beating the tar out of Sergeant Bray. She could even feel the fat man’s eyes on her after she was outside and the door was shut behind her.

  “Come on,” she said as she pulled free of Clint and stormed toward the main livery. “I have to get the hell out of this place.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Clint and Rachel rode from the fort and headed east. Although it would have been helpful to get more specific directions, Clint had no trouble believing that Coltraine hadn’t given any to Sergeant Bray. As anxious as Rachel was to go and question the Indian in the abandoned livery for a while longer, Clint knew that would have been useless as well. In fact, the Indian would likely send them into a trap or, at the least, on a wild-goose chase.

  Having a single point on the compass to steer by might not have been much, but it was all they had and more than they’d gotten before. Another factor that seemed to work against them was the darkness itself.

  By the time Clint and Rachel left the fort, it was creeping into the early morning hours. As such, every shadow seemed as cold and deep as an underground lake. But it also made it fairly easy to spot campfires from a good distance away.

  When Clint saw the first hint of firelight in the distance, he motioned for Rachel to slow down. She did so reluctantly and fidgeted impatiently while Clint took the spyglass from his saddlebag.

  “What do you see?” she asked. “Is it them?”

  “Give me a second and I’ll tell you,” Clint replied as he peered through the lenses.

  After a couple more seconds, he lowered the spyglass and dropped it back into his bag.

  “Well?” Rachel asked.

  “It’s a camp, all right. A big one.”

  “That’s it?”

  “What do you expect me to see? A giant sign painted on the side of a barn telling us that’s the place we want?”

  Rachel nodded and took a breath to calm herself. “Sorry. It’s just that it feels like I’ve been doing this for a long time and this is the closest I’ve ever gotten.”

  “I know the feeling. Still, we can’t rush in too quickly or we’ll just ruin everything we’ve done so far.”

  “But we know where they’re headed.”

  “And that might change if things get too bad,” Clint said. “If we step too far in the wrong direction, there’s any number of ways these men can get away from us. Or they might not get away from us, but stampede over our bodies instead.”

  “So what do we do then?”

  “We’re still headed over there,” Clint told her, “but we just need to be quiet about it.”

  Clint crept toward the camp, hunkered down so low that he was practically crawling. He could hear movement all around him as small groups of men sat around the two fires that had been built, smoking cigars and drinking whiskey. The smell of food still lingered in the air, but it wasn’t very appetizing.

  As he moved forward, Clint never stopped thinking about the woman he’d left behind. Rachel had a rifle of her own and she was supposed to stay behind that rifle so she could cover Clint if he needed to get back to the horses in a rush. Although she’d agreed to the task, there had been an anxiousness in her eyes that made Clint worry. Then again, that anxiousness had been there since the first time he’d seen her.

  Clint was soon able to get close enough to listen in on the conversations taking place around those campfires. By this time, he was crawling on his belly through the dirt and bushes like a snake. He made sure his feet, stomach, chest and chin were all against the ground. It might have been uncomfortable as hell, but it allowed him to get even closer to the camp.

  The voices he heard were talking about the same sort of nonsense that would be expected in any group of cowboys. They lied about women they’d bedded, bragged about fights they’d been in and gave each other no end of grief.

  Clint was beginning to think he was sneaking up on the wrong camp entirely when he heard a familiar voice come from one of the tents.

  “And that’s the reason they ain’t here,” the voice said.

  There was laughter from a couple different sources, but the man who’d spoken last stepped outside and took a swig from a bottle in his hand. He was the same man with the curly hair who had been at Fort Marsden earlier that night.

  Clint pressed himself even lower against the ground to make sure he wouldn’t be spotted. It didn’t take long to realize none of the men were looking for intruders. On the contrary, they joked and drank as if they were having a party.

  Since he couldn’t make out much of what was being said between the men anyhow, Clint eased away from the camp so he could circle around from another angle. He was able to creep in fairly close no matter what angle he chose and it wasn’t long before he was on his way back to the spot where he’d left Rachel.

  The farther from the camp he went, the more Clint allowed himself to walk upright. When his back was almost straightened completely, he stopped and squinted into the shadows as a chill worked its way under his skin.

  Rachel wasn’t where he’d left her.

  Just to be certain, Clint kept moving until he found Eclipse standing right next to what should be Rachel’s horse. He worked his way back and wound up in the same spot as before. The spot was still empty.

  Trying to figure out where he should look for her first, Clint turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Rachel crouched nearby with the rifle pointed at him.

  As soon as she saw his face, she lowered the gun and said, “I told you I was good at sneaking.”

  “You sure did. Let’s get moving.”

  “What about the prisoners? When do we come back for them?”

  “Not for a while,” Clint explained. “They’re not here.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  “What do you mean they’re not here?” Rachel asked. “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know. What I do know is that we were real lucky to have gotten this far without being seen. How about we discuss this somewhere else instead of pushing our luck?”

  Rachel had a hold on her saddle horn, but was still looking in the direction of the camp. When she pulled herself up, she practically jumped onto the horse’s back and kept her eyes fixed upon the spot that Clint had just explored.

  “Hold on now,” Clint said as he reached out to grab hold of Rachel’s reins.

  She snapped her head toward him and spoke through gritted teeth. “Let go of those.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m going after those men. Or are you telling me that they’re not there either?”

  “They were there, but you didn’t give me a chance to tell you much of anything, did you?”

  “All right, then. Tell me.”

  “Not here. Every word we say right now is just making that much more noise. We’re leaving.”

  Rather than wait for agreement or possibly another fight, Clint got Eclipse moving away from the camp without letting go of Rachel’s reins. Her horse came along much more willingly than she did and soon they had put some distance between themselves and the camp.

  Once the walls of Fort Marsden could be seen again as a black shape in the distance, Rachel pulled back her reins and brought her horse to a stop.

  Clint felt the leather straps slip through his fingers and immediately brought Eclipse around to face her. “Charging in there isn’t the way to go about it,” Clint said before she could start unleashing whatever was on the tip of her tongue.

/>   Amazingly enough, she nodded in agreement. “I know. I just don’t want to get too far away from them.”

  Picking up on the calmness that had slipped into her voice, Clint eased up next to her and said, “There’s a good amount of men in that camp. Enough that they won’t be able to go anywhere without leaving that sign I mentioned not too long ago.”

  “You can track them?” Rachel asked.

  “Now that I know where to start and what I’m looking for? Yeah. I should be able to track them.”

  Even though she was still nodding, Rachel’s eyes were darting back and forth as if trying to follow one leaf in the middle of a windstorm. “But those prisoners have got to be close. If they’re not at the camp, they’ve got to be—”

  “I know,” Clint interrupted. “Believe me, I’ve had plenty of time to think about all of this. I had to stop because my head’s starting to feel like it’s full of smoke. I’m dead tired and you must be, too.”

  “There’ll be plenty of time to sleep later.”

  “Or we could always fall out of our saddles somewhere along the way. Neither one of us knows how these men travel, but we do know they’re camped out right now. That’s a real good time for us to rest before things get too crazy again.”

  Slowly, Rachel’s eyes lost their momentum and began settling into the bottom of their sockets. Once she was looking down at her horse’s neck, she let out a breath that sounded as if she’d been holding it for several days.

  “It has been a long time since I’ve slept for more than a minute or two,” she admitted.

  “Me, too.”

  Clint and Rachel wound up at a nice spot between Fort Marsden and the camp they’d discovered. From there, Clint knew he could keep an eye on both locations, with a minimum amount of places where anyone could slip through without being seen. They built no fire, which didn’t affect them too much anyway since neither of them were very hungry.

  After sharing some bread and cold bacon, Clint sat up to keep watch while Rachel curled up in her bedroll. Clint’s spyglass was never out of reach and his own rifle was propped nearby just in case a target presented itself outside of his Colt’s range.

  “Why are you doing this?” Rachel asked in a voice that was so soft it seemed more like a trick of the breeze.

  “A young girl was taken from Markton,” Clint replied.

  “I’ve never been there. Who was she?”

  “Someone’s sister. Someone who didn’t deserve to be stolen like some thing that had been left outside for too long.”

  Rachel was lying on her side, so she propped up her head on one arm. “I meant who was she to you?”

  “I guess she wasn’t really close to me. I might have met her once.”

  “And you’re going through all this trouble to help her?”

  Clint nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Why?”

  “Because nobody else was going to.”

  “That’s a noble thing.”

  Chuckling to himself, Clint said, “You make it sound like a bad joke.”

  “That’s just because I don’t see many noble things,” Rachel replied. “Usually, it’s just a way for men to put a friendly face onto whatever shit they really want to do.”

  Hearing Rachel talk was a strange thing. Her voice was soft and smooth, but it also sounded perfectly comfortable tossing out obscenities or demanding a fight with a gang of kidnappers. In a way, her voice matched the rest of her. As she lay there with her bedroll revealing more than half of her body, she made no effort to cover herself up.

  She’d stripped down to her shirt, which served as a small nightgown. Even so, the lithe curves of her body were plain enough to be seen. Her muscles shifted like a cat’s beneath her skin, making it seem like she was a second away from pouncing.

  “My sister was taken by those bastards, too,” she said.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Emily.” Saying that word changed Rachel completely. It seemed to warm her from the inside for a few seconds. Once those seconds had passed, her edge resurfaced. “She took off to work in Silver City and never came home. I was there covering the same old ground when I stumbled upon you.”

  Clint took a moment to think back to his time in Silver City. He tried to remember the faces he’d seen on the street and the women he’d seen at the Peacock’s Feather, but couldn’t recall so much as a glimpse of Rachel. Of course, considering how well she slipped through the shadows, that wasn’t too surprising.

  “I’ve heard so much about Coltraine,” she said, “but I really don’t know anything. He’s like a damned ghost.”

  “Shadow Walker,” Clint said. “That’s what the Indians call him.”

  Rachel shut her eyes, flipped onto her other side and grunted, “Soon they’ll just call him dead.”

  THIRTY

  Clint woke up early the next morning with a rock jabbing into the base of his spine. His bedroll was wrapped around him as if he needed any more proof of how roughly he’d slept. The few hours of rest that he’d gotten was all right, but he’d felt more comfortable before he allowed Rachel to take her turn watching their camp.

  Shifting so the rock was no longer digging into him, Clint rubbed his eyes and tried to look past the aching of his muscles. He quickly gave that up as a lost cause and started looking around for Rachel. He found her at the edge of the camp, changing into a fresh set of clothes. Clint didn’t intentionally sneak a look at her as she stripped down and tossed her old clothes aside, but he wasn’t about to look away either.

  Her body was even more trim that he’d guessed. Her stomach was defined by smooth lines of muscle that led all the way down to a tight little backside. She had her fresh clothes ready, so she was only naked for a second, but it was a second worth savoring. Rachel’s breasts were pert and small, but still rounded enough to be a pretty sight. Her little nipples were erect in the cool morning air and poked from behind the thin layer of cotton that was the undershirt she pulled on over her head.

  After wriggling into her jeans and buckling her belt, she strapped her holster around her waist and bent down to pick up her hat. She placed the hat upon her head and reached behind her to gather up the blond tangles of her hair.

  “Enjoying yourself?” she asked without looking over her shoulder at Clint.

  Suddenly, Clint felt like a boy who’d been caught hiding behind a bush at the girls’ swimming hole. He laughed that off and shrugged after sitting up. “Actually, I’d be lying if I said anything but yes.”

  “And I’d be insulted if you did.”

  “Did I miss any excitement while I was asleep?”

  “I saw a nice bunch of hawks fly overhead, but that’s about it.”

  Clint gathered up his bedroll and stuffed it in its place on his saddle. When he saw Rachel watching him, he asked, “I can change my clothes, too, if you want a show for yourself.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Right now, I’d settle for something to eat.”

  “Here,” Clint said as he dug some beef jerky from his saddlebag and tossed it to her. “Save some for me. I’m going to check on that camp.”

  “Bring it along. I’m coming with you.”

  Clint would have also been lying if he’d told her he wasn’t expecting that. Rather than try to argue, he finished gathering up his things and strapped the saddle onto Eclipse’s back. The Darley Arabian was quicker to wake up than he was and was ready for a morning run. He got just that as Clint and Rachel raced back to Coltraine’s camp.

  Before charging straight through the trees that he’d crawled through the night before, Clint steered Eclipse around them so he could get a better look. It wasn’t so much of a forest as it was a large cluster of greenery made up of some middle-aged trees surrounded by dense bushes.

  Since there wasn’t much to see around the perimeter of those trees, Clint led the way back into them. He and Rachel pulled back their reins once they were in the same spot where they’d left the horses before and Cli
nt dropped down into his familiar crouch.

  “Be right back,” he whispered.

  Rachel nodded, but remained in her saddle.

  Clint started at a brisk pace, but moved even faster once he caught the distinct odor of smoke. The smell was more powerful than it had been the night before, which told him the fires had been doused not long ago. Feeling a sense of urgency flood through him, Clint allowed himself to move at a quicker, loping pace.

  There were no voices drifting through the air.

  There were no sounds of horses or of supplies being packed away.

  As Clint moved forward toward the clearing where the fires had been built, he found nothing.

  “Jesus,” he muttered as he stood in his spot and looked around. Clint thought back to make sure he’d returned to the right place. He looked at the trees surrounding him and even the horizon so he could compare it to what he’d seen before.

  He was definitely in the same spot. Now, the only question that remained was if he’d dreamed the camp had been there the night before.

  Just to be certain, Clint circled the area and looked around for any hints that had been left behind. With the sun beaming through the trees and not a cloud in the sky, searching the area was a whole lot easier than it had been previously. Of course, that made it even more frustrating when Clint came up short.

  Clint stepped back into the clearing and took another look. He went to the places where the tents had been and couldn’t find so much as a hole in the ground where a stake had been driven. He couldn’t find any footprints in the dirt where he knew all those men had walked. He couldn’t even find a single bit of trash that had been tossed aside or left behind.

  Not one cigarette butt.

  Not a scrap of food.

  Not one damn thing.

  Finally, Clint thought back to what he’d seen the night before and narrowed down the exact spot where the campfires had been built. He squatted down and used his bare hands to dig in the dirt. At first, he felt like a crazy man who’d convinced himself he was a dog. When his fingers sifted through nothing but more dirt and the occasional rock, he felt like he was losing his mind.