2

The Ideal Quarry

Adam rose, slowly and steadily turning as he did so. He climbed to his feet as though he were Zeus rising from a raging sea. The stranger came forward then, too, stepping toward Adam with the haughty attitude of an ancient god come to earth, his blonde hair and ruddy skin suggesting something more of Odin than Zeus. If not entirely god-like, he was well built, lithe and lean enough to make Joe hard-pressed to best him in much of anything. Somewhat older than Adam, he was taller, too, his longer stride clearly having provided him with an advantage during Adam’s—and Joe’s—failed attempt to outrun Hank’s silent assassins.

“Is that why you killed Hank and the rest of them?” Adam accused.

The stranger cocked his head. “Hank? Oh, you mean that weasel of a station manager, don’t you? What a pathetic creature, he was. Do you know he refused to play?”

“Play?”

“That other man, the robust ruffian who claimed to be both a gentleman and a hunter, he knew what I meant when I challenged his knowledge of hunting. So did the younger one, slow-witted though he was. They both knew how to play the role of the hunted, when the time came. They played poorly, mind you, but they did play. That station manager, however, Hank you called him? Yes. Hank. He thought he was a bull, but he was nothing more than a thick-brained cow. He refused to run away from me. I had to shoot him, don’t you see? I told him to run or be gutted. And as I’ve said to you already, I am a man of my word. When he would not run, I had no choice, none at all.”

“I told him to run or be gutted.” The stranger had said it as though he were speaking of a game, something played over poker chips or dollar bills; but this man, this hunter, had played it for lives. Human lives.

“And the woman?” Joe’s voice pulled Adam back from a cold precipice he had no desire to face; he was grateful for the rescue. “What role was she supposed to play?”

“Oh, good heavens,” the stranger scoffed. “I have no use for women on my hunts. I gave her to my man, Bongani.”

“Bongani?” Adam asked.

The stranger nodded toward the trees where the thicker shadow figure had been standing. Following his gaze, Adam saw that shadow approaching them now, revealing itself to be a very large, very black man.

“He is a great hunter, too, unrivaled among his tribe; among all tribes, I dare say. His skills are quite impressive; in fact, he is a peer to me, in that regard. On the other hand, he also behaves quite like the beast he resembles. For him, every season is rutting season. I, therefore, must provide him with the means to answer that very distracting call of nature if I have any hope at all of controlling him.”

“You gave her to him?” Joe was standing beside Adam now.

From the challenging tone in his brother’s voice, Adam started to believe he was going to have to pull Joe from a precipice. He considered putting his arm around his brother’s shoulders in an attempt to do just that, but he did not want to disturb Joe’s wound. Instead, he wrapped a hand protectively around Joe’s uninjured right arm.

“Sadly,” the stranger answered without a hint of sadness in his tone, “she was not as wise as her husband. When she spat at him, there was no choice but to still her tongue.”

“He broke her neck.” Joe’s voice wavered.

When the stranger smiled, Adam tightened his grip on his brother’s arm. “What now?” he asked.

“Now?”

“Why did you come after my brother and me?”

The stranger’s eyebrows rose markedly. “Your brother?” He nodded. “Indeed. This striking young man is your younger brother. Why, that explains your protectiveness, does it not?” He nodded again. “Quite intriguing.”

“You could have left,” Adam went on. “After you killed them, you could have left and no one would ever have caught up with you. Why didn’t you?”

The stranger scowled. “That hunt was as pathetic as that weasel of a station manager! All it did was whet my appetite! I figured surely a lawman of any real caliber would prove to be better prey; yet you came along, instead. And the way you challenged us…quite impressive. Yes, indeed. You were quite impressive right up until…well…now. But….” He sighed and shook his head. “I am still far from satisfied. You must do a better job of this, if I am to have any satisfaction from this hunt, at all.”

Adam found it hard to breathe. “You still expect us to play this game of yours?”

“We don’t give a damn about your satisfaction!” Joe shouted over Adam’s words.

Adam felt helpless. He couldn’t pull his grip on Joe any tighter than it already was. Nor could he stand any closer. What could he possibly do to protect Joe from a madman like this?

“Indeed,” that madman responded to Joe. “Well, why should you? But perhaps you do give a damn, as you say, about your own life, or that of your brother.”

“What are you suggesting?” Adam asked.

“A hunt, of course. You and your brother are the prey. Your guns stay here: the pilfered rifles, certainly, but also those guns in your belts. We give you thirty minutes to plan or run or do whatever you think might prevent us from taking you down. And then….” He shrugged. “Well, then it is up to us.”

XxXxX

Joe was both comforted and offended by Adam’s obvious attempts to protect him. Already pressing against him, clearly intent on keeping Joe as close as he could, Adam nudged closer still, little by little edging his way in front of Joe, as though he meant to be a shield. All the while, he made no attempt whatsoever to look at Joe. Instead, he focused all of his outward attention on the hunter in front of them.

“My brother’s already wounded,” Adam told the man. “That starts us off at a disadvantage.”

The hunter raised one shoulder casually, showing that Adam’s statement had no significance to him. “Perhaps.”

“Let him go,” Adam said then.

Joe felt jolted by his brother’s words. “No!” he shouted as he pushed at Adam in a futile attempt to move him away. “I’m not leaving you alone with these animals!”

The hunter grinned at him. There was hunger in his eyes. “Such bravado,” he said in a honeyed tone. “Such dedication. This could very well be the sort of challenging hunt I’d hoped to find.”

“If you let my brother go,” Adam went on in that quiet, deadly voice of his, “give him his horse and let him ride out of here, free and clear, then I promise you a more challenging hunt than you could ever imagine.”

“I’m not leaving you, Adam!” Joe repeated; but no one paid him any mind, not even his brother.

“If I let this young man go,” the hunter said, “free and clear, as you suggest, his bravado and dedication will put me at a disadvantage. You and I both know he would not, simply, ‘go.’ He will either try to turn the tables and play the role of hunter in his own mind; or—”

“That worries you, doesn’t it?” Joe challenged. “You’ll hunt men, but you’re afraid to be hunted, yourself.”

The hunter laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t be a fool, boy! You could never outwit me. You would most certainly fail.”

“Try me.”

“Joe….” Adam cautioned as the hunter’s expression began to change, his eyes and lips growing narrower and his already ruddy face taking on an even redder shade.

“You would fail,” the hunter said again, “but you would divide my attention and thus take away some of the thrill of the hunt.”

“If it’s a thrill you’re after,” Joe went on, “why don’t you try being hunted for a while?”

“Joe,” Adam said again in a soft but demanding tone.

The hunter said nothing. He met Joe’s glare silently, appraisingly.

“Why don’t you just admit you’re afraid?” Joe said after a moment, refusing to back down.

“Leave it, Joe,” Adam warned.

“You ought to listen to your brother, boy.”

“I’ll listen to him when he starts making sense again.”

“You don’t see it, do you?” the hunter asked, seeming more curious than angry now. “It is you who is failing to make sense. Your blood is boiling so fiercely, so vehemently, it is clouding your judgment. I imagine you are quite like Bongani, in that regard. It is a shame you are too small to challenge him. I would enjoy seeing a well matched battle of beasts.”

Rage pulled Joe forward. He shoved himself past Adam, grabbing the hunter’s shirt front in both of his fists…belatedly aware of the painful tugging that action made against the bullet wound in his arm.

And then something thick and dark was wrapped around Joe’s neck, yanking him backward with such force it felt as though his windpipe was being crushed. Unable to breathe, he pulled and clawed at the flesh of the black man’s arm as light and sound both began to evaporate, leaving him floating in a sea filled with the very air being denied him…until he found himself inexplicably on his knees, gulping in that blessed air and coughing it right back out again. Someone was beside him, rubbing his back and holding his arm—Adam, of course, though it took a few more moments before Joe could see his brother clearly, or hear the words Adam was shouting.

“…him out of this!”

“On the contrary!” the hunter responded. “This shall prove to be most satisfying. Yes! We shall camp here together tonight, all four of us. Bongani will patch up that arm and clean out the bullet burn on your brother’s head to stave off infection. Then we will all enjoy a refreshing night’s sleep. Come dawn, we will break our fast together to ensure we are all equally and properly nourished. And then…you will receive your thirty minute head-start.”

Adam’s grip tightened again around Joe’s arm. A moment later, that grip was torn away as Bongani grabbed Joe’s brother and began to drag him across the ground, toward the nearest tree. Joe’s head swam through a wave of nausea and confusion as he tried to make sense of his brother’s ineffective struggle against the much larger man.

“Don’t you touch him!” Those were the last words Adam shouted before he was silenced with a single blow from Bongani’s heavy fist.

Suddenly it all made a sick kind of sense. A new wave of rage drowned Joe’s nausea, pulling him to his feet. But his legs felt unnaturally weak, and his head was spinning more fiercely than before. When he saw Bongani moving toward him, he knew there wasn’t a damned thing he could do.

XxXxX

Adam came slowly back to awareness. He felt a tugging at his ankles as the image of someone crouched in front of him floated out of a fog. Whoever that person was, his jerking movements corresponded to each tug. When the image solidified, Adam discovered that person was the hunter. He was securing Adam’s ankles with rope.

On instinct Adam tried to kick out at the man, but as he pushed his legs outward, he felt a tugging at his wrists, which had also been tied.

Anger returned as images of the bodies he and Joe had found began to float out of another kind of fog in his thoughts. “Is this how you normally hunt?” He spat out the last word with as much venom as he could muster.

The hunter laughed softly, amicably. “Good heavens, no! The hunt isn’t until tomorrow.” He patted Adam’s knee and then rose, stretching with one hand pressed against his lower back. “I cannot begin to express how happy I am to be rid of that damnable stagecoach.”

“Something tells me the driver was just as happy to be rid of you.”

The hunter gave Adam an incredulous look, as though Adam’s statement had been absurd. An instant later he was smiling again. “Yes. Well. I suppose you could say he is rid of me.”

This time it was Adam who was puzzled. But the hunter did not notice. He was no longer looking at Adam, his gaze focused instead on a pile of twigs and logs.

“Don’t you come near me with that thing!” Joe’s voice, low and cold, pulled Adam’s attention from the hunter as completely as the activity associated with starting a small campfire had pulled the hunter’s attention from Adam.

Little Joe was sitting on the ground and leaning against a tree across the small clearing from Adam. Joe’s hands and feet had also been bound; even so, the way Adam’s brother had his legs curled inward gave the impression of a snake coiled up and ready to strike. It didn’t take Adam long to figure out why. Bongani was approaching Joe with a hunting knife.

“If you hurt my brother any more than you already have,” Adam warned in a voice he hoped sounded more menacing than Joe’s, “I promise you will find yourself on the wrong side of the hunt once and for all; and you will regret every moment of every hunt you have ever made.”

Bongani barely gave Adam a glance. The hunter himself laughed. Joe glared at Bongani, every bit as tense as the coiled snake his positioning had brought to Adam’s mind.

And yet it was Bongani who struck. He brought his hunting knife down, stepping in front of Joe as he did so, effectively blinding Adam to what he was doing, as well as to the young man he was targeting.

Adam realized he was screaming only by the raw burning he felt in his throat. Seconds later, he held his breath as Bongani backed away.

When Adam could see Joe clearly once more, he was relieved to find his brother breathing, fully and deeply, Joe’s chest rising and falling in an almost exaggerated motion. The only new damage that was evident had been made to Joe’s jacket and the shirt underneath. The sleeves had been cut away, exposing his arm and the bloody wound.

Bongani turned, giving Adam a feral, half grin as he tossed the ruined sleeves into the brush beside him. The midnight hue of his skin made his teeth seem stark white in contrast, exaggerating the wildness flaring in his eyes. But the hunter’s ‘rutting beast’ had not caused further injury to Little Joe. That fact alone allowed Adam to breathe again, until Bongani suddenly returned his attentions to Adam’s young brother. The giant of a man drew a smaller, thinner blade from a sheath in his belt with one quick swipe, and then drove it into Joe’s wound without preamble, digging for the bullet he, himself, had buried there.

Joe never even cried out.

XxXxX

Joe was tired—exhausted, even. But he couldn’t sleep. He mustn’t. He had to keep working at the rope binding his wrists. The more he twisted and flexed, the more likely he was to loosen the knots enough to pull free…no matter the pain his efforts awakened in his wound, a pain made worse by Bongani’s careless surgery. Joe also had to find a way to speak with Adam. Together, they should be able to figure a way out.

But the camp had gone quiet, except for the crackle of a campfire. And the smell of rabbits roasting on a spit momentarily soothed Joe’s restlessness. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, laying his head back against the tree behind him, and allowed his thoughts to take him to other campsites on other nights. At some point, Adam began to speak in soft, gentle tones that had Joe almost believing they were still on the trail, only they weren’t alone. Hoss and Pa were there, too. Adam was talking with them about things a younger Joe had no interest in hearing.

It was comforting to listen to Adam’s voice. The words didn’t matter. The voice was enough to allow Joe’s troubled mind to rest—at least, for a while…until suddenly the words tugged at Joe’s consciousness, forcing him to listen.

“Why don’t you just admit it’s got nothing to do with the challenge?” Adam had changed his tone. He was still speaking softly, but there had been nothing gentle about those words.

Joe waited for a response, but nothing came.

“It’s not even about hunting,” Adam added.

Finally, the hunter did respond. Joe heard a tsking sound. “Of course it is,” the hunter said.

“Tell me something,” Adam asked. “Is it challenging to chase down a wounded animal?”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“Is it?” Adam persisted.

“You know very well it is not. They leave a blood trail.”

“They also grow slower…and weaker.”

“I suppose so. Yes.”

“Where’s the challenge in that sort of a hunt?”

“What is your point?”

“You want tomorrow’s hunt to be challenging, but my brother is already wounded.”

Joe opened his eyes, disturbed and curious. For an instant, he was mad at Adam for comparing him with a wounded animal. Then he was mad at himself for allowing it to happen. But then he realized the only people worth his anger were the hunter and Bongani. Finally, he settled his breathing and started to watch as well as listen.

Adam was glaring at the hunter. The hunter was more interested in the two rabbits roasting over the flames. There was no sign of Bongani, but Joe had to believe he was nearby.

“You heard him yourself,” the hunter said absently. “He refused to leave you to the hunt on your own.”

“Because he has a conscience,” Adam answered. “His name is Joe, by the way,” he added after a moment.

“So I heard.” The set of the hunter’s shoulders and his refusal to look Adam’s way made it clear he didn’t care.

“Joe Cartwright,” Adam went on. “And I’m Adam Cartwright.”

Finally, the hunter did look at him. “What do I care about names?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Adam said. “We’re not men to you, are we? We’re just prey. Animals. But that’s not how the law will see it. To the law, you’re a killer. A cold blooded murderer.”

“If I were a killer, as you say, you would both already be dead.”

“What about the people at the station? You killed them.”

“It was a hunt.”

“It was a massacre!”

“You are not being very sporting.”

“This isn’t a sport. If it were, my brother, Joe, and I would be as free to roam about this camp as you are. We would be able to eat when we want, drink when we want, and relieve our bladders without waiting for it to be convenient for you to untie us.”

“If you feel the need to urinate, by all means, do so. You do not need to wait for me.”

“You want me to relieve myself here? Like this? Like an animal?”

Not bothering to reply, the hunter turned the spit.

“I see,” Adam went on. “That’s all part of your strategy, isn’t it? The more blood and urine trails we can give you, the easier your hunt will be.”

Again, the hunter made no response.

“My brother, Joe, was right. You need to be hunted for a change.”

“There is no purpose for you to continue emphasizing his name to me.”

“I disagree. I do need to emphasize it. He is a man with a name and a family who cares what happens to him, a family that will do everything in their power to see to it you are hunted down like the murderer you are, hunted down and brought to trial and then hung in a public spectacle. I can assure you that is exactly what will happen to you if you carry on with this hunt of yours.”

There was another tsking sound as the hunter shot Adam a quick, disgusted look. “I’ve seen how the law operates in this godforsaken land. I am a far greater hunter than any of the so-called lawmen and sod busters I have had the misfortune to meet.”

“You haven’t met Virginia City’s Sheriff Coffee. Or our brother, Hoss.”

“Hoss?” The hunter laughed, his attention suddenly riveted on Adam. “You have a horse for a brother and yet you insist you are not an animal.”

“Our brother is a far better man than you will ever be. And a far better hunter.”

“Don’t be absurd. I have hunted in the heart of Africa. I have tracked great cats and beasts you’ve never even heard of.”

“You’d be surprised what I’ve heard of. But none of the beasts you’ve hunted have any bearing to what’s going on here. Our brother knows this entire territory better than you ever will. And he has tracked more native animals than you have ever heard of. He has also tracked men.”

“If your family is in the habit of hunting men, you have no business telling me it is wrong to do so.”

“There’s a difference. A big difference. Our brother has hunted men like you, murderers and thieves, to bring them to justice, not to shoot them in the back. And I assure you, there is nothing you can do to keep him off your trail.”

The hunter looked away from Adam again. He stared at the rabbit, but he did not turn the spit.

“You don’t need to be wounded,” Adam went on, his voice growing softer, colder. “You don’t need to be tired or sore from a night on the hard ground tied hand and foot in ropes. You don’t even need to leave a blood or urine trail. He will find you. He will track you down. And then he will make you wish he would kill you. But he won’t. He’ll let the law do it. You will hang by your neck on a rope stronger than this. If you’re lucky…very, very lucky…your neck will snap the instant you fall through that trap door. But I’m guessing you won’t be lucky. I think you’ll choke to death instead, slowly and painfully, while a crowd watches…and cheers in satisfaction.”

“If you think you can frighten me into letting you go, I can assure you, you are sadly mistaken.”

“Cartwright.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Does that name mean anything to you?”

“Do you have any idea how grating the sound of your voice can be? If I have to hear much more if it, I shall have to gag you.”

“It should,” Adam went on, ignoring the hunter’s threat. “Our family, the Cartwrights, own the biggest spread in the territory. The Ponderosa. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.”

Despite the orange glow of the flames in front of him, the hunter’s face seemed to go white for an instant.

“Ah yes,” Adam continued. “You have heard of the Ponderosa, haven’t you? I suppose Hank would have made some mention of it, particularly since this property borders on our land.”

“You are wasting your breath.”

“I don’t think so. I can see you’re starting to realize the mess you’re in. You wanted a challenging hunt. Well, you’ve got one. If you start running at dawn, you might just make it out of here; that is, if you leave my brother, Joe Cartwright, and me in the same shape we’re in right now, so our brother, Hoss, isn’t quite as motivated to hunt you down as he otherwise would be.”

“I am not a coward to run away. Nor am I a man to break my word. I said I would hunt you, and so I shall.”

“Then give us a sporting chance. Untie us. Let us have enough food, water and sleep to give you the challenge you claim to want.”

“If I untie you, you will run the moment you see an opportunity.”

“Such an element of surprise should only make the hunt a better challenge for you.”

“If you don’t run, you might slit our throats.”

“With what? I would have to get one of those knives away from that man of yours. I’m not foolish enough to believe that’s even possible. Besides, I already told you, ours is not a family of murderers. We believe in the law to serve justice.”

“Why should I trust anything you say?”

“Because it’s true. All of it. And you know it.”

The hunter and Adam stared at one another for a long moment, long enough for Joe to realize he’d been holding his breath and had reached his limit for doing so. He took in a deep pull of air, making little noise at all but apparently enough to break the standoff.

Adam looked Joe’s way, his gaze showing he had gained something from that exchange, an edge they had not had before. But another several moments passed before the hunter proved Adam’s assumption. With nothing more than a bob of his head to Bongani, the large man appeared at Joe’s side once more, his knife in hand as before. Only this time, he used it on the ropes.

Seconds later, Joe was free to rub his raw wrists and watch as Adam, too, was freed. And then Joe didn’t smile, not exactly; but the look in his own gaze would have made it clear to Adam he knew Adam had won that hand. The game itself was still a gamble, and a pretty big one, at that; but they had at least gained a sense of hope.

XxXxX

Ben held supper for an hour. He spent every bit of that hour pacing with his eyes as well as his feet, his gaze moving from the clock, to the front door, and back again.

“Maybe one of their horses threw a shoe,” Hoss said, coming to stand beside him.

Ben gave his son a feeble smile. “You’re right. Any number of things could have held them up.” He looked at the clock once more and sighed. “As late as it is now, I suppose we should assume they’ve made camp for the night.”

Ben took hold of Hoss’s arm and started to pull him toward the dining table. He might as well have tried to move a block of granite. Hoss’s feet remained planted where he stood. His brow was furrowed as he stared at the clock and chewed at the inside of his cheek.

“You don’t reckon,” Hoss said then, “they rode to Virginia City first? You know,” he shrugged, “to celebrate?” His eyes had that pleading, hopeful look he’d used since childhood to show Ben he not only wanted it to be true, he wanted his pa to make it true.

Ben brought his hand to Hoss’s shoulder. “No, Hoss. I don’t. As much as their efforts warrant a celebration, they would both be too eager to tell us all the details, don’t you think? Joseph, especially.”

Hoss grinned. “He sure would at that. That telegram they sent from Placerville made it sound like it was all Joe’s doin’, gettin’ the price they did.”

Ben smiled back. “It could be Joe wrote that telegram himself.” He took a deep breath. “But we won’t know until they tell us all about it…which I expect they will be very anxious to do; although it’s pretty apparent they won’t be telling us tonight. We’d better sit down at that table before Hop Sing declares supper officially ruined and we end up eating jerky!”

Hoss looked stricken. “My belly’s too empty for jerky, Pa!”

“Then take your place at the table, boy!” Ben commanded in a teasing tone.

Moments later, as Hoss started moving that first forkful toward his mouth, the sound of horse’s hooves pounded into the front yard.

“Well, there they are now,” Ben said happily. He rose, tossing his napkin to the table.

Hoss smiled too, as though the over-dry roast beef had turned suddenly succulent. But rather than the door opening to admit Adam and Joe, someone knocked. Ben shared a puzzled glance with Hoss, and then hurried to answer, drawing his son along in his wake.

“Roy!” he greeted enthusiastically when he saw the visitor was his old friend, Sheriff Coffee. “Well, this is a surprise! Come in! Come in!”

“Ben. Hoss.” The sheriff nodded to each of them in turn before craning his neck to look further into the room. “I was hopin’ I could speak with Adam and Joe. They back yet?”

“Why, no,” Ben answered, suddenly concerned. “What’s on your mind?”

“I wanted to see if they’d come across the stage on the road. It’s more’n a day late comin’ in to Virginia City, an’ I got some folks in town mighty anxious to see their kin.”

“A day late?” Ben asked.

“The one due in at noon yesterday still ain’t arrived.”

“If they ran into trouble,” Hoss said, “it’s a sure bet Adam and Joe would’ve stopped to help.”

Roy nodded. “I reckon they would, at that. Suppose I’ll just head on up an’ see old Hank tomorrow mornin’. See if he can tell me anythin’ more.”

They were both right, of course. Ben was sure they were right. Adam and Joe would certainly stop to help if the stage driver needed it. But his gut told him there was something very, very wrong. “We’ll go with you,” he decided.

Roy’s quick response did nothing to quiet Ben’s growing concern. “I’ll be glad for the company.”

“Sheriff sit down!” Hop Sing hollered out from the dining room. “Someone eat Hop Sing supper before cold!”

“No, thank you, Hop Sing. I gotta be gettin’ back. Mornin’ comes mighty early lately.”

Maybe the feeling in Ben’s gut was nothing more than hunger. Whatever it was, the idea of having Roy Coffee at his side, ready to ride out with him in search of Adam and Joe…well, while it didn’t exactly make the feeling go away, it did ease up some. “Stay here, tonight,” Ben said. “It’ll save you and your horse both a lot of extra miles.”

Roy smiled back at him. “Why, I might just take you up on that offer, Ben!”

“You’d better,” Hoss added. “Hop Sing’s mad enough as it is. He gets any madder and he’s likely to keep all that pie he made for himself. I don’t think I’d sleep a wink tonight if I don’t get a slice of that apple pie I’ve been smellin’ the past few hours.”

Laughing, Ben ushered his friend to the table. “Hoss, would you put up his horse, please?”

“Sure, Pa. Lemme just have a few more bites…if you don’t mind?”

A few more bites became two more helpings. By the time Hoss finally did go outside to see to the sheriff’s horse, Ben heard another rider entering the yard.

“I’m looking for the sheriff!” a man’s voice called out seconds later.

A lean, young gentleman turned his attention away from Hoss and toward Roy Coffee the very instant Ben and his friend stepped outside. “Sheriff! I need to be with you when you find that stage.”

Roy obviously recognized the man. “Mr. Breckinridge? I thought I told you to wait in town. We’d get everything sorted.”

“Yes, sheriff. You certainly did. But I couldn’t. I just…I couldn’t let you do this alone.”

“He won’t be alone,” Ben interceded. “My son, Hoss, and I plan to join him.”

The man’s eyes followed Ben’s gaze to where Hoss stood. At Hoss’s nod, Breckinridge turned his attention back to Roy and Ben. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly.”

“Understand what?” Ben asked.

“My brother-in-law is on that stage.”

Roy scoffed. “I know! Your brother-in-law, Mrs. Ridley’s sister and her husband, and that pretty gal’s fiancé; what was his name? Crawford? They’re all on that stage; and all them folks back in Virginia City are as anxious as you to see them. Now why don’t you just head on back there, and—”

“No!” Breckinridge said firmly. “I can’t. You need me.”

Hoss was beside him now. “You sure it ain’t the other way around? You need the sheriff to make sure your brother-in-law is all right?”

“No.” His gaze swept all three men. “You…all of you need me. Frankly, I don’t care whether or not my brother-in-law is all right. I’m far more concerned about the other passengers…and, perhaps, you as well.”

“Why’s that?” Roy asked. “What is it I need to know about this brother-of-law of yours?”

Breckinridge took a breath deep enough to pull his back up straight as a board. “He is a madman,” he said then, in a tone as straight as his back. “And I am quite convinced he murdered my sister, although the courts decided otherwise.”

“Murdered?” Roy asked.

Breckinridge gave one, quick nod. “Her neck was broken. The official declaration was that it resulted from a fall down the stairs; but I can assure you he did it. Maybe he did it with his own, bare hands, or he had his man do it for him. Either way, he was responsible.”

Ben could tell he believed what he said. But he’d also said the courts didn’t agree. “And just what is it that gives you such assurance, if the courts were already convinced it was an accident?”

“There was something in his eyes at the trial—and afterwards—that disturbed me. I took to watching for him. Following him. Keeping track of where he’d been. Sheriff,” he stared directly into Roy’s eyes, “he has been leaving a bloody trail behind him. I have discovered that three other women were killed under similar circumstances in towns where he had been staying. All of the deaths occurred during the time of his stay.”

“Did you talk to the law in those towns?”

“I have. There has been no evidence to link my brother-in-law to any of those killings, but the circumstances are far too close to be relegated to mere coincidence.”

Ben did not like what the man was insinuating. “You cannot convict a man based on coincidence.”

“No. You’re quite right. But there’s more.” Breckenridge looked at the sheriff again. “My brother-in-law shot a man in the back in Sacramento. He claimed the man had been a thief, and that he had been in fear of his own life. He said he’d shot blindly into the dark of an alley, in the hope he could hit the thief before the man could do him any harm. The judge believed him.”

“But you didn’t?” Hoss asked.

“My brother-in-law has faced down charging lions in the heart of Africa without breaking a sweat. I was with him when he shot just such a lion in the middle of the night. I saw his eyes in the light of a very full moon, and I can say, with all honesty, he had not been the least bit afraid. In fact, he’d found the experience to be rather thrilling. Sheriff, if my brother-in-law could face a charging lion in the dark and not be in fear of his life, he would most certainly not be afraid of a mere man, particularly one whose back had been turned!”

“If the judge thought otherwise, he must have had good reason.”

“The only reason, sheriff, is coercion. My brother-in-law is quite an expert in that art.”

“Are you suggesting he coerced the judge to—”

“Perhaps the judge. Perhaps a witness or two. In any event, it worked.”

Silence followed the man’s words. He was clearly aware of the scrutiny Ben, Roy and Hoss were giving him. All three were assessing him, trying to determine exactly how much of his story was true. He looked uncomfortable garnering such attention, certainly. But if Ben was any judge of character, he would have to admit the man appeared to be sincere.

Roy seemed to agree. “All right. I’m not about to call this man a murderer. I won’t argue with the courts; I couldn’t hold this job if I did. But I’ll let you ride along under two conditions. The first is that you make any move to attack or hurt that brother-in-law of yours in any way, without due cause, I will arrest you directly.”

“And the second condition?”

“You do everythin’ I tell you to do, and nothin’ I don’t.”

“I understand.”

Ben sighed. “Well then, Mr. Breckenridge, allow me to introduce myself, since you will apparently be staying the night as well. I am Ben Cartwright. I’ve already indicated my son, Hoss.”

Breckenridge shook his hand. “If you don’t mind my asking, Mr. Cartwright, what is your involvement?”

“My other sons might well have encountered that stagecoach.”

“If that’s true, sir, then I pray they have not also encountered the man I know my brother-in-law can be.”

“Yes. Well, they are both very capable young men. I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Even as Ben said the words, his gut tried to convince him otherwise.

XxXxX

Supper introduced a strange and complex game, sort of like chess or poker, or maybe both, but played out entirely in words. Joe was glad for the chance it gave him to move his thoughts away from where they kept straying. The game, such as it was, also helped to get his mind off of the food he was eating. Not that the food was bad, but he was unable to rid himself of images of Hank and the others back at the station; and his stomach was roiling in anger and impatience. He ate only because Adam had told him he had to; and it wasn’t a point he could argue. They didn’t have much going in their favor with this so-called hunt. Neither of them could afford to be tired or hungry come dawn. So Joe ate; and he kept each bite down by focusing as much as he could on the parley between Adam and the hunter.

Davenport. That was the man’s name. Phillip Davenport. It hadn’t been easy for Adam to pull that name out of him. The whole exchange had made Joe think of a calf fighting against being born and then suddenly forgetting why, finally sliding out smooth as can be and spilling a whole bunch more besides.

Mr. Phillip Davenport was from New York, but he’d been educated in England, and had traveled to more foreign lands than Joe had even known existed. Adam listened intently, and asked the kind of questions that could have made Joe believe his brother was eager to share in the man’s next overseas adventure. But Joe knew his brother too well to believe it. Sure, he knew Adam wanted to see those kinds of places; but he would never select a man like Phillip Davenport as his traveling companion. As much as Adam smiled and tried to make it look like he was impressed with Davenport, Joe noticed his eyes were dark, his shoulders tense, and his jaw about as tight as Joe had ever seen it. No. Adam wasn’t the least bit impressed. He was more likely to reach across that campfire and pull that man right down into it than he was to volunteer to join him at sea.

Davenport, however, did not know Adam. He failed to see the tension, and all he heard was the praise. His smile, Joe could tell, was real. By the time Joe swallowed his final bite he could almost believe Adam and Davenport had been old friends, and tomorrow’s hunt would have them both on the same side.

Maybe Davenport had started to believe that himself, because Adam’s next words seemed to confuse him.

“We need longer than thirty minutes.”

“For what?” Davenport asked.

“Give us three hours,” Adam said.

The conversation had taken so many turns it practically had Joe’s head spinning. And then he realized why. Dropping his fork and setting his tin plate on the ground beside him, Joe stared open mouthed at his brother as he realized all the twists and turns of the discourse…all the false leads and switchbacks…it had all played out like a map of what Joe and Adam would have to do come morning. If they were going to survive this hunt, giving false leads and making switchbacks was exactly what they were going to have to do.

And suddenly Joe gained more confidence than he would have believed possible…because he and Adam were in this together, and they knew this land better than anyone. And by this time tomorrow night they were both going to be home, at their own table, eating one of Hop Sing’s fine meals….

“One hour, I can agree to,” Davenport said, all signs of his confusion replaced with a placid expression.

“Two and a half,” Adam countered.

“One and a half.”

Adam grinned, although no sign of pleasure reached his eyes. “Two. That’s my final offer.”

Davenport laughed. “How can I possibly refuse your final offer?”

He reached forward, clearly aiming to shake Adam’s hand. Joe was shocked to see his brother take it. Had Joe run across his brother and the hunter acting this way back in Placerville or somewhere in Virginia City, he would presume them to be old business acquaintances challenging each other with the latest deal but looking forward to a few after-business drinks in the nearest saloon.  Were they still talking about the hunt, or something else altogether?

“However,” Davenport added as he settled back into the casual position he had taken by the fire, “the deal is rendered void if you choose to leave at any other time during the night, even if it is just one minute before sunrise.”

“And then what?” Adam asked. “We’re back to thirty minutes?”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. You have already chosen to take that deal off the table. No; if you leave this camp at any time before sunrise, the hunt will begin at that very moment.” The look in his eyes turned deadly then. Deadly and cold, despite the pleasant tone in his voice. “I quite like you, Adam Cartwright,” he added. “I rather hope you survive. If you do, I should enjoy it if you would join me on my next excursion into India.”

“I can guarantee I’ll survive if you call off this hunt.”

“Yes; I suppose that’s true. Pity that. It would mean I should have to go back on my word, and that is simply not possible.”

“No. Of course not,” Adam said tightly.

“Well, then….” Davenport stretched. “It will be quite an exciting day tomorrow. We’d all better get our rest.” Without another word or even a glance toward Adam or Joe, he smoothed out the blanket beside him, and laid himself down to sleep.

XxXxX

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