Cheyenne cleared his throat. ‘‘The gambler just might be asking for Jamie’s hand. By tonight we’ll either have a wedding or a funeral. My money’s on the funeral.’’

Though Win nodded, his mind was on something else. He grabbed Kora’s hand and pulled her out of the kitchen without another word. On the porch he let go of her fingers and faced her. ‘‘Remember,’’ he whispered. ‘‘No matter how late, wait up.’’

Kora smiled. ‘‘I’ll stay dressed.’’ She draped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him soundly, even though they both knew half the ranch could be watching.

‘‘You’re awfully bold, woman.’’ He smiled when she let him go.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘‘Do you mind?’’

‘‘Not a chance,’’ he answered as he walked away.

Riding south, Winter began at the corner of his land and rode toward Break’s Settlement. He’d moved most of his cattle to the north pastures, but a small herd of longhorns still roamed among the uneven ground by the south edge.

He’d always liked the sturdy longhorns. They were powerful animals with their long curved horns and ornery dispositions. But they were survivors. He’d brought other lines in working on improving his herd, but it was always the longhorns who survived the hard winters and hot summers.

About midafternoon he saw a cow low in the draw, stuck in a muddy creek. For a moment he watched her struggling, thinking how strange that the animal would get herself in such a mess. She was far deeper in the water than she would have needed to go to get a drink.

Unhooking his rope, he moved down the rocky incline toward her. If he didn’t take the time to pull her out, the coyotes would get her before morning.

Just as he threw his lasso, he realized he wasn’t alone. Three men, almost completely hidden behind the cottonwoods, were watching him.

They were close enough to have gotten off a shot, but they hadn’t. He glanced over the muddy ground and realized the cow had been driven into the water.

As he worked, he kept his hand close to his Colt, expecting to hear a shot any moment. But the men stayed well back, only outlines among the trees.

Winter struggled for a few more minutes to free the cow, then saw them moving toward him. They were men he’d seen around, but couldn’t put a name to any face.

‘‘Afternoon, Mr. McQuillen!’’ one yelled. ‘‘We was just riding along and saw you might need a little help.’’

Winter knew they were lying, but he was also curious about what they might want. If they’d been ambushers, they would have fired from safety.

One of the men was playing with his rope while the others circled Win’s horse. ‘‘I’ll give you a hand.’’ He tried to sound casual.

The drifter on Win’s left began to work his lasso, also. Win shifted in the saddle. The cow on the other end of his rope kept him rooted; otherwise he’d have backed away from the strangers.

Just as the first man swung his rope, not toward the cow, but at Win, another swung a rifle butt toward Win’s head.

With his hands caught in his own rope, Win twisted violently to avoid the blow and got snared in the other stranger’s loop. A second later he hit the mud, rolling and fighting to reach his gun. Another rope circled his arm and pulled it tightly behind him.

Win fought to free himself as the men laughed and backed their horses until the ropes were tight. The man with the rifle slid from his saddle and moved cautiously toward Win.

‘‘We figure you took a blow to the head when you fell, mister. So here’s the blow.’’ The drifter swung twice before the wood of his rifle cracked against Win’s skull.

Though the world went dark, Win’s body still fought to pull free.

‘‘Drag him over to that nest of water moccasins, boys. We want this to look like an accident!’’ one of the men yelled. ‘‘The way he’s thrashing around, he’ll take a dozen bites, maybe more, before we can pull him out.’’

The ropes tightened around his shoulder and arm as Win slid across the mud and water. He fought wildly but couldn’t free himself.

‘‘Keep the ropes tight while the snakes bite!’’ the leader yelled again. ‘‘We don’t want him getting lucky and drowning. We want to take him back alive so we’ll be heroes. Then when the poison seeps in, it’ll look like we done our best to save him. While they’re mourning, we’ll follow the rest of the plan.’’

Water rushed over Winter, barely deep enough to cover him before he felt them. Snakes, thin and fast moving over him, curling around his legs, crossing over his chest.

Water moccasins. Winter’s mind drifted back to when he was a boy living among his mother’s people.

‘‘How many bites would kill me?’’ he asked his mother once as they watched the olive-brown snake slide across the water with his head up slightly.

‘‘With the wet snake be it little or long, it’s not how many, but how long you have left. One, two, three… a man can take, but after that he doesn’t need to count the snakes… only the hours of pain he has left.’’

TWENTY-TWO


THE SUN HAD A WAY OF LYING DOWN ALONG THE horizon and dying a slow brilliant death. Kora sat on the porch and watched, smiling at her memories of last night. Fate had given her a chance to be a wife, and she planned to enjoy the role as long as it lasted. All her life she’d wondered how it would feel to be cherished. Winter might frighten half the folks around here, but he was gentle with her. He thought she was special. She could see desire in his eyes, and his passion proved his longing for her. He was also talking to her of the problems of the ranch, which made her feel like she belonged, she was truly family.

Three riders appeared far to the south. Kora watched them approach, trying to see if one was Win. She shook her head. None of them had the height.

Jamie slammed the screen door as she joined her sister. ‘‘I’m bored.’’ She pouted. ‘‘I wish I’d gone with Win. Since Cheyenne is still hobbling around here, I could have riden backup. Now I’m stuck here bored out of my mind.’’

Kora knew the mood had more to do with Wyatt leaving after their fight than with Jamie’s lack of anything to do. Cheyenne had been wrong when he’d predicted the gambler would propose. Wyatt wanted a girl, but not a wife, it seemed. And Jamie wanted no strings on her as well.

Leaning against the porch railing, Jamie added, ‘‘Maybe it’s about time we moved on before the witchin’ luck catches up to us.’’

Kora didn’t say a word. She didn’t want to think about her mother’s pet name for the bad luck that always followed them.

‘‘I don’t want to leave this time,’’ Kora whispered more to herself than Jamie. ‘‘I like it here and Dan hasn’t coughed in days. He’s growing stronger with regular meals and clean air.’’ She knew Jamie loved the adventure, but Kora had longed for roots. ‘‘I thought we’d stay till summer.’’ She’d been wondering how she’d tell Jamie that her marriage to Win was only temporary. Even with all that had happened, Win had never said a word about her not leaving. ‘‘Then we might finally head to California.’’ She tried to sound excited.

Her sister wasn’t listening. As she spotted the riders, Jamie bolted like a shot from her perch and ran toward the yard. ‘‘Logan! Cheyenne! Come quick!’’

‘‘What is it?’’ The air seemed to pop with excitement around Kora. ‘‘Jamie, what’s wrong?’’ All she could see was three riders, one leading a horse, the other two riding a few yards ahead. Nothing seemed unusual, yet Jamie was dancing around wildly.

Logan and Cheyenne appeared at the barn entrance as Jamie shouted, ‘‘That’s Win’s horse they’re pulling behind them!’’

Cheyenne was in the saddle in a heartbeat riding toward the men at full gallop despite his injury. Logan disappeared back into the barn. He stepped out a few seconds later with a rifle in his hands.

‘‘Best get in the house, ladies, until we know something.’’ He moved toward the center of the yard. Other rifles slid out the doors and windows behind him. ‘‘ ’Pears trouble finally found us.’’

‘‘No,’’ Kora answered, standing beside her sister in the center of the yard. ‘‘I’m not leaving.’’

The riders drew closer. They were hard men with the look of a drifter about each. All three needed haircuts and shaves, and their clothes were so layered in dust and sweat Kora couldn’t even guess what color the fabric had once been.

Just as Cheyenne reached the riders, she saw a body tied over Win’s horse.

Kora screamed as Cheyenne jumped from his mount at full gallop and drew his blade. He slit the ropes holding Win and pulled his friend into his arms. With great effort, he lifted Win on the saddle and climbed up behind him. He kicked the horse into action and rode toward home.

All the blood seemed to drain from her as Kora watched Cheyenne bring Win the last hundred yards. She couldn’t move. Her husband’s body was covered in mud and soaking wet. And lifeless.

Logan shouted orders as the riders came in, but all Kora could do was stare. They lowered Win to the dirt while the three strangers climbed down from their saddles.