The stifling summer sun had finally disappeared behind the horizon by the time Jeremiah James and his gang reached the part of the Hualapai Mountain Range referred to by outlaws and lawmen alike as 'The Hideout', named solely for the thousands of areas an outlaw could hole up and get the drop on anyone attempting to enter without permission. Jeremiah's spot was on the southeast corner of The Hideout, protected by the range's tallest peaks and nearly impossible to reach. The narrow trails were at times barely wide enough for a full grown horse to navigate, edged on one side by the massive mountain, the other was a drop off of one hundred feet or more, depending on the altitude. One wrong step would mean certain death for the steed and its riders. Few had tried to track the James gang. And of those who survived the treacherous trails, ended up meeting the wrong end of a bullet in an ambush. No one was able to travel on that route without drawing unwanted attention.
However, James had found long ago an abandoned tunnel that weaved its way through the mountain, obviously dug by individuals long ago, and ended up exactly where he wanted to be. The threat of collapse was a better option than falling to your death.
As the group entered the eerie silence that often enveloped The Hideout, James felt a shiver run down his spine. That shiver told him he was not alone. That shiver warned him of the trackers behind them. They may not be within sight, or anywhere near him, but he could still feel their presence. It was a technique he had honed long ago. And it had never steered him wrong.
"Damn it." he mumbled, causing the man riding in front of him, his cousin Gregory Sutton, to slow his steed to match James' amble, his steel grey eyes filled with query. "We're being followed."
"You sure?" Gregory asked, tossing a look behind him.
"Yeah. And I'm willing to wager everything I own it's Jessamyn County." Gregory snickered as he adjusted his weight in the saddle.
"Jessie County's probably burnt to a pretty little crisp right about now, Jer. There's no way she was getting outta that jail cell alive."
"Unless I calculated her brother's distance wrong." James' shot back. "Maybe him and that half-breed were closer than I thought." Gregory studied James for a moment, carefully weighing his next words.
"Even if they are on our tail," Gregory began. "There's no way they'll be able to catch up with us tonight. And when they try to find us in the morning, if they're still alive, what with the dozen or so outlaws that are sure to be holed up around here already, we'll be waiting for them." James nodded in agreement, not bothering to remind Gregory of Jessie's past with James, or her time spent in The Hideout alongside Gregory's own brother, George. If anyone could find a way to him, it would be Jessamyn County. But, at least Gregory had one thing right; when she did try to come after him, he'd be waiting.
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Brisco had noticed Jessie had been doing her best to slow the trio down, every so often, deliberately dropping Sancho's pace. At times, it seemed the palomino was scarcely moving at all. He could see the anger building up in Bowler's eyes. Jessie was hardly Bowler's favorite person in the first place, and he had little patience for her.
"Is there any reason why you keep slowing down?" Brisco finally asked, tossing an annoyed look over his shoulder, and catching Jessie's cold stare in return.
"I'm hungry. And I'm exhausted. And I think this is a very ridiculous idea in the first place."
"And what makes you think we care?" Bowler sneered.
"I really don't care if you do, Bowler. After all, it was your partner's idea to drag me along, not mine." Jessie shot back, snidely.
"Because if I don't keep an eye on you, you end up in a jail cell, located inside a burning jailhouse. Or you end up nearly hanged after some foolhardy attempt to cheat someone at a poker game. Or nearly hanged inside a saloon. Or inside a church. That one I'll never understand. Oh, or how about nearly getting yourself killed during a bank robbery inside a bank full of federal marshals?"
"Okay." Jessie interrupted, her blue eyes narrow slits. "Enough. How about when you were nearly hanged by some Mexican banditos who thought you cheated them in a poker game? Or, the time you were nearly sawed in two inside a lumber mill. Or nearly electrocuted while tied to a metal flag pole during a thunderstorm. Or, getting shot in the gut during some foolhardy attempt to bring in John Bly, after, of course, you let your gun belt just fall to the ground, thinking he'd be willing to fight you one on one, fairly. That one, I'll never understand." Jessie echoed, her tone pretentious. Brisco stared back at his younger sister just as hard as she was staring at him. Jessie was just as stubborn as he, and he was certain the mere notion he needed to keep tabs on her to protect her infuriated her. Jessie had been on her own since she was sixteen years old. And a lot had happened during the six years since her first bank robbery, executed alongside her future husband, George Sutton, and his band of outlaws, one of whom happened to be Jeremiah James. And for that reason, he knew he needed Jessie. And he was certain, she knew how badly he needed her on his side as well. Which meant Brisco would need to keep Bowler under control, along with his own emotions he felt toward his baby sister.
"Fine. Fair enough." Brisco threw up a non-threatening hand in an effort to show he was no longer interested in fighting. "You know we need you to get to James' hideout."
"Well, it's damn near impossible to get into The Hideout in the first place." Jessie said quickly, her frustration with the entire situation beginning to show. "There's only one real place to get in and out. And that entrance is visible from anywhere inside. Now, even if we slip in undetected by Jeremiah or any of his idiots, or the dozen or so outlaws that could be found in there at any time, making it to Jeremiah's spot…" she let her voice trail off for effect, shaking her brunette head slowly. "Even if we live to make it past all the dangers sure to be waiting for us, it'll just end badly on the other end. Jeremiah likes to ambush those who are foolish enough to tackle that asinine trek through some of the narrowest and steepest trails I've ever seen. Now, if we would've left Dolan Springs immediately, like I wanted to, instead of sticking around to help folks who don't really need your help anyway, we could've caught up to Jeremiah before he reached The Hideout, and I could've gotten my guns back. And we'd all be a little happier."
"Feel better?"
"I do a little, yes."
"Good." Brisco pushed his hat back on his head before continuing. "You know there was no way we'd be able to catch up to James before he reached The Hideout. And staying behind to help out the citizens of Dolan Springs might help you out a bit when the federal marshal rides in to pick you up, only to find out, you're gone."
"I doubt a few moments of kindness will help me out any, Brisco, thank you very much."
"And who's fault is that?" He could feel the heat of Jessie's glare on the side of his face as he fought to keep his gaze forward.
"Do you want me to help you, or not?"
"You don't have to, Jess. But, I remind you once again, you're unarmed, and not really much of a match for James when you do decide to ride into The Hideout after him, which I know for a fact you'll do." Brisco added when she opened her mouth to protest.
Dejected, Jessie settled back in her saddle and coaxed Sancho to a faster walk, taking the lead from Bowler.
