She took the shotgun. “I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
Jake handed her a leather bagful of extra shells. “Just in case you need more.”
Their eyes held as Miranda took the bag. “I’ll be all right, Jake,” she assured him.
“You and Hank take your horses,” Charlie told Jake. “You can go in at a dead ride then. I’ll leave mine here with your wife and go up the back side of that butte on foot. You and Hank go on this way, headin’ east. Hide in the brush till you see my man go down, then draw a bead on the other guard. Once he’s down, start ridin’, Jake right up the center, Hank around here to the right like I said. Let’s go.”
The man took hold of the reins to his horse and to Miranda’s and headed across a shallow section of the river toward the waterfall. Miranda looked at Jake, struggling against tears of terror. “I’ll be watching for you,” she told him.
He nodded. “Vaya con Dios, mi querida,” he told her softly. He turned and mounted up then, and Hank followed, both men heading east along the riverbank.
Miranda watched Jake a moment longer, then hurried to catch up with Charlie, not wanting to slow anyone down. Charlie already had his and Miranda’s horses tied to a fallen branch not far from the other side of the waterfall, where they would be difficult for an intruder to see. He motioned for her to come and stand under the raging water. She waded through the shallow river and stepped along slippery, flat rocks to come and stand beside the man.
“Remember what Jake said. You stay right here. You’re close enough here to help your son real quick-like, once Jake’s got him.” He gave her a wink. “Don’t you fret. They don’t come any better than Jake.”
“Thank you for helping, Charlie. You be careful too.”
The man looked her over appreciatively. “Ol’ Jake sure outdid himself when he put a ring on your finger. I got a feelin’ that man would walk through fire for you.” He chuckled again and shook his head, turning and disappearing into the underbrush.
Miranda breathed deeply in an effort to relax, but it was almost impossible. The waterfall roared in her ears, and she wondered if she would even be able to hear gunshots while standing under it. She set the shotgun aside and took the shells from the bag they were in and began stuffing them into the pockets of her jacket so she would have nothing to carry but the shotgun itself. Her pistol rested in its holster. She picked up the shotgun again and sat down on a rock that rested against the much larger boulder over which the water cascaded into the river. There was nothing to do now but wait.
Thirty-three
Hank hung back while Jake dismounted and ran farther along the riverbank to take a position where he could see the guard at the top of the east butte. He watched the west butte, where a man was sitting rather than standing. If either Hank or Charlie were as good a shot as he from a distance, they would have taken both men by gunshot. Jake had considered taking them both himself, but from their position, the minute a shot was fired, the other man could easily spread himself flat and be out of sight. It was important to get both guards to be sure Jake and Hank could ride through and around the buttes without being shot at from above.
He caught a glimpse of Charlie then. He crouched and took aim, waiting. Quietly and quickly, Charlie, who’d learned his stealthy approaches from living with the Indians for a time, had an arm around his man’s throat and a knife rammed into his back. At the same moment, Jake fired at the second man. He watched the man’s arms fly up, his rifle tumble from his hand. Slowly, almost gracefully, his body dived forward for the long drop to the bottom of the butte. Jake heard the thud as it hit a large rock, watched it bounce against a couple more boulders before sprawling in gravel near the riverbank only a few yards away. His side vision caught the body of Charlie’s victim also plunging to his death from the west butte.
“Let’s go!” Jake called to Hank. “They’re both down!”
He mounted his horse, and Hank, already mounted, headed east, disappearing around the butte while Jake kicked Bandit’s sides and headed the horse at a hard gallop directly between the buttes and toward the ranch. Charlie scrambled down from his killing point and headed up along the west side of the grounds.
Under the falls, Miranda caught the faint sound of a gunshot. She knew it would be Jake’s. She took up the shotgun and rose from her resting place, feeling insane with wonder over what might be happening to her husband and son. She did not know a rider, who had been heading along the river to the ranch, one of Latimer’s men, had spotted her. The man had glanced at the waterfall and saw her sitting under it. Quickly he had turned his horse and ridden out of sight, then dismounted and headed for the river. He moved alongside the boulder near where Miranda sat. Water splashed his hat and face, but he paid no attention. Something was up. What the hell was a woman doing lurking under that waterfall?