Blood Bond: Deadly Road to Yuma by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: en
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2009-09-17T04:00:00+00:00

“When can we have the woman?” Gonzalez asked, for the fourth or fifth time.

“When Joshua’s free again,” Garth answered, trying to suppress the feelings of irritation that went through him. “I ain’t takin’ no more chances. I want her safe and sound to use as leverage against that husband o’ hers just as long as we might still need him.”

Along with the other members of the gang, they were riding along about two miles behind the wagon carrying Joshua Shade. Garth had spotted it earlier through his spyglass when they paused at the top of a long swell that provided a good view of the territory to the south.

Earlier, when the wagon tracks had left the main road and turned south, Garth had studied the map that Shade always used when he was planning their jobs. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out what the marshal was doing.

Thorpe wanted to get his prisoner on a train as soon as possible, because that was the fastest and safest way to transport Shade to Yuma. So instead of going all the way to Tucson to catch the train, he had struck out across country toward the railroad, following a meager track that barely qualified as a trail.

“Right there,” Garth had said, stabbing a blunt finger at the map he had spread out on a rock. “He’s headed for Pancake Flats.”

Since then, nothing had happened to change his mind. It was mid-morning now, and the wagon was still headed in the same direction.

Garth turned his head to look at the others. Mrs. Winslow rode double with Jeffries; they had abandoned the wagon back where the gang had been camped before. It wasn’t that Garth trusted the dapper gunman not to molest the woman, but he probably trusted him more than he did Gonzalez and the other men.

Mrs. Winslow had her baby in her arms, cradling the kid against her. Garth felt an unaccustomed twinge of pity. He had killed plenty of times in his life—men, women, children, whoever he needed to kill to get what he wanted—but every now and then, such as now, some fleeting, unwanted memories came back to him. Memories of a time before he was a killer and an outlaw, when he’d had a woman and a young’un of his own…

With a grimace, Garth turned around to face front once again. Those days were long gone, and good riddance to ’em. They’d ended badly anyway, and he’d just as soon not think about them.

“Hey, Garth,” Gonzalez said.

“What?” Garth snapped, his voice abrupt and angry because he figured the Mexican was fixing to pester him again about raping Mrs. Winslow.

Gonzalez had something else on his mind, though. “I think I saw a couple of riders up there, off to the east of the trail.”

Garth looked where Gonzalez was pointing and didn’t see anything. He reined in and motioned for the others to do likewise. Fishing the spyglass out of his saddlebags, he extended it and lifted it to his eye, squinted through it.

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