Heath rode the grulla harder than he like to push any horse. He rode him at a gallop until the horse was blowing very hard, then he slowed him to a jog for a mile and then pushed him into a gallop again. He rode him hard for an hour, and then he stopped and threw his saddle up on the big bay, gave both horses a small swallow of water in his hat and started riding again.

The bay was everything Preston had said. His gate was smooth and big. He asked him to gallop and never had to ask again. The horse gave what he had willingly. The rancher was right, this was a horse to ride a man needed to get to hell in a hurry and find his sister. Where he'd had to push the grulla to keep the pace this horse needed holding so he didn't out run himself.

He thought he saw their dust just around the time the light began to wane and he stopped and traded horses again wanting to save the bay if he could. The grulla was tired now and very unhappy. He had to spur him hard to get the gallop and he did it, hating the way the world could make a man abuse a horse. He figured the grulla had another twenty miles he could get out of him at this pace, after that maybe another twenty but the horse would never recover from the second twenty. He sure hoped he wouldn't need to do that second twenty.

An hour more riding and it was getting dark and he could smell their dust. He stopped and put the saddle on the bay and let the grulla loose to find his way home he had a mind to. He rode the bay at a steady jog now not wanting to gallop up on his quarry before he saw them. Ten minutes riding and he saw their dust settling ahead of him. He pushed the colt into a lope riding to the side of the torn up trail the men had left so he'd make less dust. He kept the colt at a canter until their dust darkened and he could make out the dark shapes of horses under the dust riding into the increasing darkness.

They'd worn their horses out early on and were traveling at a jog. He slowed the colt to match stride, happy to follow them as long as they were moving. Half an hour following and they began to take form on his horizon and he knew they'd slowed to a walk. He pulled the colt to a stop and got out of the saddle, biting his lip at the pain in his ribs. He loosened the girth and walked the colt slowly toward the riders taking his time making no dust. When he could see the outlines of the horses ahead he led the colt off to the east into the early evening darkness putting the setting sun behind his quarry. They had stopped and he needed to hurry now.

After five minutes of walking, he turned west again began moving toward the camp. He found a good strong piece of sagebrush and using his rope tied the horse and tightened the cinch again. Told the colt he was 'sorry', but they'd maybe need to ride pretty fast when he came back.

He took his rifle and shoulder rag and moved toward the riders, folding the cloth in his shirt as he walked. He didn't want to trust the rifle any further than two hundred yards. At two hundred yards he knew he could hit what he aimed at, any further and he didn't trust the Winchester.

He had just enough light to see the men when he reached his first firing position. He thought he saw Audra, that blue dress she'd showed him in Stockton that blond hair. The men were off their horses watering at a stock pond. He shot the man was standing near Audra and then shot another man at the other end of the group. Body shots on both of them, probably death shots, sorry he had to do it but figured he had no choice, those men having taken his sister and him alone with an unfamiliar rifle.

Then staying low, rifle in his left hand, his right arm around his ribs he headed south a hundred yards and then fired the rest of the magazine over their heads wanting to scare them into moving again. Not let them stop. Not let them do what they would do if they had a chance to stop with those three girls. Reloading he walked bent over back to his horse, gunfire going off in all directions from the camp. Looking back toward the riders he saw dust rising up in a cloud around turning horses, shouts of anger in the night.

By the time he reached the bay the men had mounted and were riding again, now headed due east into the hills. Just about what he'd expected. They would want to get to high ground and get a look at their back trail see how many were following them. He knew now they would be dropping someone behind them soon, wanting to ambush him when he followed. Now it was time for the bay to show what he was made of.

He let them ride as fast as their tired horses could gallop while he rode a parallel course on a better horse at a faster speed. They were still coming at him, his having moved so far east before he opened fire, so he just rode ahead of them. He dropped off his horse after a mile and waited. There wasn't enough light to see well enough to pick his targets. He didn't want to shoot one of the girls. But he figured no matter where they were in that party, they weren't at the front of that mob.

He could just make out the first man passing him, not a hundred yards away. He shot at him three times, the man moving and the light very bad. He thought he saw the man come out of the saddle but didn't stay to find out. He threw himself back onto the bay, crying out as the rifle banged against his leg, jarring his now furious shoulder, and heeled the horse hard trying to get ahead of the bunch before some unlucky shot hit him. They had enough bullets in the air for a massacre, shooting in all directions.

He rode hard for two miles keeping the last of the light at his back trying to head due east into the mountains, then he stopped the bay and dismounted again. He lay down on the ground with his chest against the earth feeling for the horses galloping behind him, listening hard. He could feel the slight vibration in the earth of a dozen horses coming fast. He waited feeling them in the earth, feeling them getting closer until he could finally hear them, leather creaking, horses breathing hard and of a wonder above it all Audra Barkley yelling, "I told you you'd be sorry when my brothers got here."

Breathing hard he climbed back up on the bay and keeping low in the saddle spurred him into a canter and let him find the other horses for him, relying on his good nature to look for his own kind. Ten minutes of riding and he could smell the other horses' dust. Another five minutes and he was in amongst them lost in their dust and the darkness. He looked for Audra's blond hair and listened for her voice. He heard her before he saw her, berating some hapless fool, thought he could kidnap Audra Barkley and not hear about his mistake.

"YOU'D BEST JUST LET ME GO! MY BROTHER'S GOING TO KILL YOU DEAD," she had a good head of steam going now.

"LET US GO. THEY'LL LET YOU GO IF YOU LET US GO."

"TREY LET HER GO, SHE'S RIGHT. WHOEVER IT IS WILL NEED TO STOP AND GET HER. KNOCK HER OUT OF THE SADDLE, THEY'LL NEED TO STOP FOR HER."

"I'M NOT LETTING HER GO, I'M KILLING HER."