jerked the woman to her feet. “Where are they taking the cattle?”
She tested her left shoulder and grimaced, then she reached down to pick up her battered Western straw hat from the dirt.
“I think you’ll survive,” he said sarcastically.
She shot him a dirty look. “You could have killed me.”
“It crossed my mind.”
“Even after I saved you?” She narrowed those eyes at him.
“I beg your pardon?” He couldn’t believe this woman.
“Do you think those cattle just happened to turn on their own?” She raised her chin as she said it, her gaze full of challenge. “I saved your life. Now you owe me. Let me go.”
He laughed as he knocked the dust from his Stetson and settled it back on his head. “The only place you’re going is to jail.”
“That would be a mistake,” she said meeting his gaze. Her eyes were a heartbreaking blue in a face that could stop traffic with its surprising beauty. She looked too sweet and innocent to be a rustler.
“What the hell are you doing rustling my cattle?” he demanded, although he’d bet it had something to do with a man. It usually did.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said, and glanced toward where the cattle had disappeared through a wide spot in the trees.
“Try me.”
Something came into her eyes, a subtle look that warned him. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. She reached for the gun strapped to her hip, hidden under her long barn jacket.
He grabbed the weapon before she could, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her. So much for sweet and innocent.
She wasn’t just a woman whose boyfriend had talked her into some crazy stunt of rustling up a hundred head of cattle. The woman was armed and he’d already seen the way she could ride.
“How many others are there?” he demanded, grabbing a fistful of her jacket. “I think you’d better start talking before I tear into you.”
She smiled. “I’m not sure you want to do that.”
“Why is that?”
“You might not like the outcome.”
He laughed again. He had a good ten inches on her and seventy pounds. She wasn’t serious, was she?
Apparently she was, because before he could react, she punched him.
The blow caught him by surprise, breaking his hold on her and allowing her to take off running toward her horse, which had stopped a few dozen yards away.
Dawson went after her, bringing her down in the tall grass. She tried to fight him off, but he was onto her tricks this time and pinned her to the ground. He was suddenly aware of the soft curves.
“You have to listen to me.” She ground out the words from between her gritted teeth. “You have to let me go. If you don’t, they will come back for me and they will kill you. There are too many of them for you to fight off alone. You won’t stand a chance and I don’t want your blood on my hands.”
“I’m touched by your concern for me. Especially after you just tried to pull a gun on me.”
“I wasn’t going to shoot you.”
“You don’t mind if I don’t take your word on that, since you just punched me.”
“You gave me no choice.”
“Well, I’m giving you a choice now. Tell me how many of them there are.”
She struggled under him for a few moments, then gave up and sighed. “Seven. How are those for odds?”
Not good. He’d heard about a large rustling ring that had been operating down in Wyoming and had only recently moved into southeastern Montana. He assumed it must be the same band of rustlers. Apparently they had now moved into north central Montana.
“When they realize I’m not with them, they will be back for me,” she said.
Once the rustlers had the cattle settled wherever they planned to keep them for the night, they would come looking for this woman, sure as hell—if they didn’t notice her missing sooner.
He wondered how badly they would want to find her and how long they would look when they didn’t. He figured only one or two of them would return. The others would stay with the cattle. That at least would even the odds.
Also it would be dark soon. It got dark fast up here in the mountains. He had to make sure the band of rustlers didn’t find them until he decided what to do.
Eventually he’d have to deal with the possibly that all of them might come back for her, depending on her relationship to this gang. Holding off seven of them wouldn’t be easy. Especially with this woman to worry about. What was he going to do with her?
“Look, we don’t have much time before they realize I’m not with them.”
She had a point. He hauled her to her feet and walked her the rest of the way to his horse. Reaching into his saddlebag, he pulled out a length of rope.
“You can’t tie me up.”
“What would you suggest I do with you?”
“You work for Chisholm, right?” She took his silence for yes. “You really want to die for a hundred head of his cattle?”
He pulled her hands behind her back and began to tie her wrists together.
“You’re making a huge mistake,” she said.
“It won’t be my first.”
She was watching the edge of the trees where the last of the cattle and rustlers had disappeared. He could feel the tension running through her. She knew they would be coming back for her. He thought about his first impression—that some man had talked her into this.
“So who is he?” Dawson asked as he finished binding her wrists and turned her around to face him. “This cowboy who talked you into becoming a rustler?”
Her expression changed and her gaze shifted away, making him pretty sure he’d pegged this one right. But, hell, given what he’d seen of her, she could be the leader of this group. Still, he thought it was more likely that some man was involved.
“What did he promise you?” he asked when she said nothing. “Adventure? Money? A chance to go to prison?”
“Rustlers seldom go to prison, because they are seldom caught,” she snapped, sounding angry.
“Well, I caught you,” he said, just as angry, since she was right. Convictions of cattle thieves were rare to nonexistent and with cattle going for a thousand dollars a head and times being tough, the rustlers had gotten smarter. With open range where there were no fences
