Free The Drifter's Bride by Tatiana March

five, small for her age.’
    ‘That doesn’t mean those men were Apache.’ Jade argued, although Carl could tell she was worried. ‘They could be Comancheros, or Yaquis from across the border.’
    Victoria’s mouth tightened. ‘The sheriff doesn’t think so. You have to find your mother’s people and tell them to surrender, give back the Lindstrom girl. That’s the only way to avoid a massacre.’
    ‘Dear God.’ Jade pressed her hand to her heart and whirled around, her face furrowed with fear. ‘Carl, you’ll have to look after Pa while I’m away.’
    With a clump and clatter, her father appeared in the doorway of the smaller bedroom, dragging his splinted leg behind him. ‘Go,’ he gasped, his face ashen. ‘I can manage.’
    Anger bristled inside Carl at the suggestion that he would let Jade ride out without him. Lowering his cup of water, he rose. ‘Your father will be fine alone. I’ll saddle the horses while you change out of your dress.’ He turned to Victoria Sinclair. ‘I want you to give Jade exact directions to where you saw the riders. Then I want you to go back to town and tell the sheriff I’m going after them. I’m a good tracker. I’ll find the girl and bring her back.’
    I’ll find the girl and bring her back .
    The words echoed in his mind as he stormed out. Out in the yard, he found his shirt on a fencepost and shoved his arms into the sleeves. He saddled the horses, strapped on his gun belt and pushed the rifle into the scabbard. The promises he had just made weighed heavy in his heart as he vaulted onto Grace and cantered beside Jade out of the valley.
    He had to save the girl.
    He had to succeed where he had failed before.
    * * *
    On a rocky clearing about two miles east of the orchard, Jade brought her mustang mare to a halt. Carl circled around her, surveying the flat landscape punctured by huge blocks of granite and sparse clusters of stunted trees.
    ‘It was here,’ she said, twisting in the saddle to face him. ‘Victoria said they passed between those two boulders and headed south.’ Jade raised her arm to point.
    Carl jumped down and crouched to study the ground. Steam rose from the muddy earth, filling the air with rotting smells. He spotted a fresh chip in a half-buried stone.
    ‘Shod horses,’ he called out to Jade. ‘Not likely to be Indians.’
    ‘Thank God.’ She paused. ‘I mean…it doesn’t help the Lindstrom girl, but…’ Her words trailed into silence.
    ‘The storm has washed off the trail.’ Carl moved along in a crouch, examining the gravel for further signs of riders. He found nothing—no hoof prints, no crushed leaves or broken twigs. Only ridged patterns in the sand, left by the runoff that had flooded the hard ground after the torrential rain the night before.
    Star’s hooves clattered as Jade whirled the mare around. ‘I think I know where they’ve gone. With the rain, the river’s running high. There is a good place to cross farther east of here. The sheriff won’t make it in time. Once the Comancheros are on the other side, they’ll vanish into Mexico. We’ll have to stop them before they get across.’
    They stared at each other, the same thought mirrored on their faces.
    Two rifles against six.
    They might be riding to their death, but they had to try.
    * * *
    Between the rocky banks, the river surged in powerful whirls that sent floating debris bobbing up and down. Carl snaked forward on his belly, using any small rise in the landscape to provide cover—a jutting boulder, a piece of driftwood, a mound of dirt. No advantage was too small as he made his way toward the enemy camped by the river’s edge.
    The last glimmer of daylight had faded an hour ago. Ahead of him he could see the flickering flames of a bonfire. Farther back, fiery dots punctured the darkness as some of the Comancheros pulled on their cigarettes.
    He couldn’t tell if the men were talking, if the children were crying, if the horses where nickering. The raging