Chapter 1

West Texas, 1860

The first shot knocked the look-out guard off the top of the wagon. The second shot winged the man riding shotgun, followed quickly by a third shot which caused the man to fall forward. The fourth shot hit the driver in the heart, causing him to fall over his partner. The fifth shot hit the guard inside the wagon.

The five riders quickly rode alongside the wagon, a rider on each side as they grabbed the lead horses and brought the wagon to a halt.

“Make sure they’re dead,” the leader commanded.

The bearded man automatically turned to check on the first guard lying on the road. The thin man climbed inside the wagon, checking the last man shot while the taller man jumped on the wagon and checked on the two lying over the driver’s seat.

“That was pretty good shooting,” the younger one proudly claimed.

The leader turned toward the young man. “Then why did you only wing the shotgun-rider?”

“But, I got ‘em the second time.”

“You shouldn’t have needed the second time.”

The younger man lowered his head. He knew this man was volatile, knew what he was capable of. “It won’t happen again,” he promised, his voice subdued.

“Make sure it doesn’t. I don’t tolerate sloppiness . . . nor give many second chances.”

“They’re dead,” the tall man on top of the wagon announced as he lightly jumped down. A shot from behind them said the first man was dead—now.

The leader turned cold eyes to the thin man, who wisely did not try to justify why he missed his mark also.

This seemed to appease the leader.

By the time the bearded man returned, the young man and the tall man were dragging three boxes from the wagon. Three more shots, and each of the locks became useless. Four men huddled around, waiting for the leader to open the boxes.

Using the toe of his boot, the leader lifted the lid of the first box, then the other two.

“Silver?” the younger man questioned. “I thought we was after gold.”

Cold eyes turned back to the younger man. “Gotta problem with that?”

“Uh . . , no.” The younger man stepped back out of the leader’s line of vision.

“You boys know what to do,” the leader’s voice was stern as he glared back at the other three. “You each have two saddlebags. Once you have the silver packed, you’ll head to Round Rock. You know who to meet there in town.”

“I thought we were sending the silver to Ohio like usual,” the bearded man spoke.

“Marshal Robertson and his deputies are crawling all over the state. Our new operation is in Round Rock, Texas. Get a message to your contacts and we’ll meet at a predetermined place. Any questions?”

The four men looked at each other. “No,” they all finally said.

“You each know your different route?”

Each nodded their head.

“Good. It’s not wise to all show up at the same time. I’ve already established myself in the town, so remember, if you see me, we don’t know each other!”

He took a moment to slowly scan each of the four faces. “I hope I don’t have to remind anyone of what happened to the last man who thought he could cheat me.”

Four heads shook as they each remembered. Two had known the boy before he became greedy. But stealing money does a person no good when you are six feet under.

Round Rock, Texas 1861

The earth was trembling.

That was the first thing Toni thought of when she fell on her hands and knees in the sweltering heat. She lifted her head to look around the seemingly endless desert floor. Seeing nothing, she slowly rose on unsteady legs, as if her five foot five inch height would help as she scanned the horizon.

With her hands linked together and held above her brows to cut down on the glare, it was on her second pass around when she noticed a faint dark line on the horizon, the extreme heat causing the line to dance in the sunlight. Squinting under the brim of her hat, she stared at the spot, then knelt down again, bracing her palm on the hot ground.

Yes, the earth was definitely trembling.

Was it her imagination, or was the trembling stronger? She slowly rose again, focusing hard on the dark line. She could just see a faint dust cloud above the line, almost as if it was . . .

Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open.

“Oh no!” she whispered into the silence. Toni twisted around, looking frantically.

Nothing!

Absolutely nothing!

When she turned again to the rapidly growing dark horizon and dust cloud, she noticed a tree standing alone in the midst of the desert. Gone was the fatigue in her limbs and the thirst in her throat. She ran with all she had, her hat pulling at her neck by the small delicate green ribbon that matched her shirt. She kept her eyes focused on the tree. Toni ran toward the tree, the only thing between her and the fast approaching stampede.

With his three men flanking on each side, Conrad was racing alongside the herd. Fifteen minutes ago, five thousand head of cattle was happily grazing in contented peace in the small valley he usually used to do the yearly branding.

Lefty and Juan had been dismounted, one working with the branding iron, the other taking a needed break while he and Trent were on horseback, cutting out the unbranded ones. The men preferred to stay in the saddle and work all day, so the men took turns working on foot.

He was just cutting out the next young bull, his lariat swinging in the air, when he heard the screaming cry of a wild cat echo in the small valley. Unfortunately, the herd also heard the cry and immediately headed as one in the opposite direction. His men reacted immediately, those dismounted were quickly mounted, all of them headed for the herd.

Trent and Juan were directly behind him while Lefty was on the other side. They were slowing gaining on the herd when he looked up into the distance. Sure he was mistaken, he quickly blinked again.

Someone was directly in line with the stampeding herd, running toward them!

What was somebody doing way out here?

He checked where he was again and knew there was no way he could make it to the lone person. He would never be able to cut across through the herd in time.

He urged his horse faster, starting to turn the herd inside. He knew it would make no difference, but he had to try. Trent and Juan also started leaning into the herd, forcing them to turn to the left, causing the whole herd to slowly shift.

Toni was not sure if she was going to make it. The herd was gaining faster than she had hoped. But the tree was closer.

If she could just make the last few feet.

She was able to see the faces of the cattle, their nostrils blowing from their frantic run, their eyes glazed from their fright. She knew they did not see her. She was only an obstacle in their way, one that would very easily be knocked down and run over, effectively put out of the way.

When she was only seven, she had seen the body of a ranch hand who had been trampled by some runaway horses at her father’s ranch. She had innocently run to the wagon to see what everyone else was looking at. No one noticed her until they heard her startled gasp. But before her father could send her away, she had seen the deep cuts all over the ranch hand’s body, his clothing in shreds from the hooves, revealing deeper cuts. What was left of his face was unrecognizable. For a month, she had nightmares.

With that thought in her mind, Toni concentrated on the tree directly in front of her, forcing her legs to move faster.

She noticed the limb hanging above the ground, a few feet higher than herself.

It was going to be close. She silently counted the feet remaining, ten . . . seven . . . five . . . three . . . two . . . jump! It was less than a minute later when she felt the wind rush below her from the herd as she swung her leg over the limb to hook over her other leg. The tree shuddered from the herd bumping into and brushing by the small tree that was her lifeline. Hugging the limb, she silently gave a prayer of thanks for giving her the needed strength.

Conrad watched in amazement as the person raced toward the tree that was between him and the herd. He watched as he leaped through the air, catching the limb above him, and deftly swung his body out of the way, locking his hands and feet around the limb.

Conrad pulled away from the herd, signaling his men to continue. He then spent the next few minutes walking his horse, Dancer, allowing him time to cool down while the herd passed by. With the dust still clinging to the air, he approached the hanging figure.

Toni realized the herd had finally passed when the tree quit shaking. She had kept her eyes closed the whole time, afraid she would somehow let go. With her ears still ringing from the thundering hooves, she did not hear the approach of the lone horseman, nor did she see the astonishment on his face as he rode closer.

It was a girl!

There was a girl hanging on the limb of the tree! What in blazes was a girl doing in the middle of his range in the first place? He rode toward her in silence, setting his stern face back in place.

When he was almost directly underneath her, he noticed her hair was loose from her run. It was almost pure black with waves and curls. Her hat was dangling from her neck by a thin green ribbon. Most of her hair was cupped in the hat, a few strands escaping on the slight breeze that stirred the air. She was wearing a split skirt, her knees appearing above her worn boots where the skirt had rode up.

He knew he should not stare, especially when she was at a disadvantage, but his curiosity got the better of him. He wondered what she was doing here. Where was her horse, or buggy? He looked around, fully expecting to see one or the other, somewhere.

Nope, nothing at all but empty space.