Outlaw Hearts(10)

She stopped and patted the neck of each horse. “I’ll have your harness off in a minute, boys.” She opened the shed door, then gasped when she saw a strange horse inside the shed, nibbling away at fresh oats. The animal was still saddled, a rifle and a shotgun resting in boots on either side of the saddle.

Fear gripped Miranda in the form of real pain in her chest. Whose horse was this? She noticed a dark green slicker tossed over the side of the stall. It looked familiar. Hadn’t Jake Harkner been wearing a slicker like that when she saw him in the store?

Every nerve end came alert as her gaze quickly darted around the shed, but she saw no sign of human life. She put her hand to the strange horse’s flank and could feel that the animal was cool. Apparently it had been there for several hours. If so, where was the man who had ridden it?

She moved closer to study the animal, noticing dried blood on the saddle and stuck to the left side of the horse’s coat. Whoever had ridden it was bleeding, which made it even more likely it was Jake Harkner! But why here? The man couldn’t possibly know where she lived! And where was he? Waiting for her? Hiding somewhere, ready to shoot her down in revenge? Still, why would he put his horse up in her own shed, knowing she would surely see it?

She put a hand to her head, which suddenly ached fiercely. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her chest. She felt like a fool for not checking everything more thoroughly before Sheriff McCleave left. Now he was too far away to even hear a gunshot.

She was here alone, with a stranger, most likely a man bent on revenge, somewhere on her property, but where? She told herself not to panic. She had to think logically, be cautious. She moved past the draft horses to the wagon and reached under the seat to take out her father’s Winchester. She cocked the rifle and looked around, holding the gun in a ready position.

“Wherever you are, come out now!” she said sternly, trying to sound unafraid. Her only reply was the soft quiet of the early evening. She checked around the shed once more, then walked back outside, her eyes glancing in every direction, her ears alert. She decided the horses would just have to wait in harness for a while. There was no time now to tend to them.

She checked behind the shed, scanned the open land all around the cabin. Since the raid, there were really no buildings left but the shed and the cabin, and the land was so flat, except for the high hill to the west, that there really were no good hiding places outside. Even the hill itself was treeless. That left only the cabin.

The cabin! Surely whoever owned the horse wasn’t inside the cabin! And to think that she and Sheriff McCleave had been inside there themselves! Was it possible someone could have been lurking in there the whole time the sheriff was with her? If so, he was either unconscious from his wound, or lying in wait for her to be alone.

She slowly approached her tiny log home, walking completely around it, seeing nothing. She approached the root cellar at the north wall of the building, swallowing back her fear as she reached down and flung open one door, then pointed her rifle into the cellar. “Come on out if you’re in there!” she demanded. “Just get out and ride away and no one has to be hurt!”

Again her reply was only silence. She moved around to fling open the other heavy metal door, wishing it was brighter outside so she could see better down into the small dugout. “Did you hear me? Come out of there!” She reached down and picked up a couple of medium-sized rocks, flinging them into the dark hole, but all she heard were thuds as they hit the dirt floor. She knew from the size of the cellar and the small space in the middle of the surrounding shelves that if someone were down there, she could hardly have missed him with the rocks.

She cautiously stepped closer and kicked one door up with her foot, sending it back over and slamming closed. With her rifle aimed at what was left at the opening, she moved around to the other side and kicked that door shut. She backed away then, watching the cellar a moment longer, before turning and heading for the cabin’s front door, her heart pounding even more wildly. Unless the owner of the horse had just wandered off, the cabin was the only place left where he could be. She looked down and saw a couple of spots of what could be blood on her porch. Why hadn’t she or the sheriff noticed it before? How could they both have been so careless?

She cautiously pushed open the door with the barrel of her rifle, then stepped inside. Everything still appeared to be in order. Raising the rifle to a ready position then, she headed for her curtained-off bedroom, hoping she wasn’t so worked up with fright that she would pass out if confronted. She moved to the wall and pressed her back against it, then peered around just far enough to peek through a crack between the edge of the curtain and the door frame.