Chapter 12

Rusty put her hand up over her eyes at the glare of headlights coming up fast behind her. The vehicle, a truck, stopped with its lights on her, making it impossible for her to tell who was driving.

“Need a ride?” Davy’s voice rang out a moment after the sound of the truck door opening.

“Surprised you’re fit to drive,” she replied. “You were out cold when I left, so I figured I’d walk.”

“They throwed me out,” he said as he stepped unevenly in front of the headlights, revealing the gun in his hand.

“Hey now!” Rusty protested, putting both hands up, arms bent at the elbows. “What’s all this?”

“This is me calling the shots from now on,” he said in a boastfully arrogant tone. “You always did underestimate me, Rusty. You think I’m fool enough to fall for that line of horseshit you laid on me at the bar? Ha! Not hardly.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Like hell. See, while you were trying to work me, Stella was working that dude. I know what you’re trying to do and I’m here to let you know it ain’t gonna work.”

“Davy, you’re not making sense at all. If you’d just stop and think—”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, bitch!”

“I wasn’t—”

“I said shut the fuck up. Get in the truck.”

“Why?”

“You want me to shoot you?” He waved the gun, shouting at her. “Get in the goddamn truck!”

“Fine,” she agreed, realizing that Davy wasn’t at all stable. And unstable people were dangerous. She’d learned that from her short marriage to Davy’s brother.

Cautiously she went to the passenger door. Davy followed, his wobbly walk giving testament to the fact that he was way too drunk to drive. As soon as she was seated he tossed something into her lap. ‘‘Put ‘em on.”

Rusty felt the first glimmer of real fear when she saw the handcuffs. “Davy, this isn’t necessary. I’m not going—”

“Shut up and put on the fucking cuffs!” he screamed.

Rusty knew better than to push it. She fastened the cuffs around her wrists. Davy checked to make sure they were good and tight before he shoved her across the seat. “Get behind the wheel, he ordered as he climbed in and slammed the door. “Start the truck.”

“With these on?” she asked raising her manacled wrists.

“You’ll manage,” he snarled. “Start the fucking truck.”

Rusty did as ordered but did not put it in gear. “Now this is how it’s gonna go,” he said. “You and me are gonna head on over to your place for the night. Tomorrow morning we’re gonna take a ride down to town hall and get the judge to marry us.”

Rusty momentarily forgot her fear. “Like hell!”

Davy backhanded her, making her head swim. “Keep your fucking mouth shut. You’re gonna do exactly what I tell you to do or your dude is gonna end up deader’n a doornail.”

Fear lanced through Rusty with sharp bitterness. “What have you done?” she gasped.

Davy laughed. “I ain’t done nothing but spend the night with the woman I love, honey. Now my brothers, they’s a different story. Right about now they should be at Blackhawk waiting for the dude. When he shows up, they might have to get a little rough with him. But he’ll live. If you do like you’re told.”

Rusty stared at him in astonishment. Surely he couldn’t think the plan would work. Even if she went through with it, as soon as she knew Clay was safe she’d go to the law.

As if reading her mind, Davy laughed. “It ain’t something you can get out of. Right after we’re married good and proper, you’re gonna sign over Blackhawk to me. Then if you wanna walk, be my fucking guest. I’m gonna have my fun with you tonight anyway, so it’s not like you’ll be fucking up my wedding night.”

“You’re not touching me,” she said hatefully.

“Oh I’m gonna touch you, all right. And your fucking dude is gonna watch. I’m gonna fuck you seven ways from Sunday and when I finish, I’m gonna give my brothers a turn.”

He laughed manically and slammed his hand down on the dashboard. “I finally got you, bitch, and by this time tomorrow I’m gonna own Blackhawk and the treasure will be mine.”

Rusty gaped at him in complete bewilderment. “What treasure?”

“You know what fucking treasure!” he screamed.

“No I don’t!” she screamed back. “There isn’t any treasure!”

“There is!” he yelled and tried to backhand her again, but she saw it coming and dodged the blow.

“You’re crazy, Davy. If there was a treasure do you really think I’d have half starved the last few years to make ends meet?”

He cut her a look that spelled to her that at least she’d made a dent in his dementia. But it was short lived. “I know what I know,” he grumbled.

She thought about it. If he really believed there was a treasure, then she had to figure out what gave him the idea. Maybe then she’d see a way to exploit his delusions and use them against him.

“Okay, fine. I give up. You are a lot smarter than I gave you credit for. But how did you find out about the treasure? I thought the secret was safe.”

“Always underestimating Davy,” he crowed. “It’s gonna put all you fuckers in the grave.”

“You’re probably right,” she agreed. “How did you figure it out?”

“Actually it was my pa. He was over paying a visit on your ma after your daddy died and while he was there he found a letter she’d written to her family.”

Rusty was suddenly rocketed back in time. She was only five years old. She was playing outside, climbing the big oak that grew right outside the kitchen window. That particular day she’d made it higher than she ever had before. She could see down into the window of the kitchen.

Her mother sat at the table, writing. Just as Rusty started to call out, her mother rose and disappeared from view. A minute later she was back. With her was a man. He took a seat at the table. Moments later her mother put a coffee cup down in front of him and reclaimed her seat.

Rusty couldn’t hear what they said, but could tell from the way her mother’s body tensed and the expression on her face, that she was not happy. When the man jumped up and reached across the table to grab her mother’s arm and jerk her halfway across the table, Rusty screamed.

Both her mother and the man looked up and saw her. They were all frozen in place for a moment then the man released her mother, snatched up the letter from the table and ran from the room.

Rusty shimmied down the tree, crying and afraid. Her mother ran out of the kitchen door as Rusty tore across the yard toward her. Rusty flew into her arms, sobbing. It was not until years later that she remembered. When her mother had wrapped her arms around Rusty, she’d been trembling.

Now the memory returned with such clarity that Rusty realized who the man was. Davis Stikeleather.

“My mother wrote about it in a letter?” she asked.

“She was writing to her family. She said that they didn’t have to worry. The treasure was safe and would continue to be so as long as it was on Blackhawk soil.”

Rusty’s throat constricted. She could almost hear her mother speaking, but the words were not what Davy relayed. How could she ever have guessed that her words would inspire such avarice, envy and evil? It made Rusty want to cry.

But at the moment, she had more to worry about. Such as how to get away from Davy and make sure nothing happened to Clay.

An opportunity presented itself at that moment. Heedless of Davy’s wrath, she jerked the truck into a hard left turn. It crossed the oncoming lane and bounced as it hit a fallen tree along side of the road.

“You fucking cunt!” Davy screamed at her as she floored the accelerator. “Stop!”

Rusty kept her foot plastered to the accelerator. The truck bucked and bounced over the fallen tree and into the ditch beside the road. As soon as it came to a halt, the tail end sticking up in the hair and the engine screaming, Davy belted her in the side of the head. Her last conscious thought was of Clay.

* * * * *

Clay walked out of the bar and slapped his hat against his leg. No one had seen Rusty since he left. According to the bartender, she’d left alone, but aside from that no one knew anything.

He hurried to his truck and headed for Blackhawk Ranch, hoping he’d find her waiting for him when he arrived. Otherwise, he didn’t know what he’d do.

The bunkhouse was dark when he arrived. He called out for Koda but got no reply, so he went inside. He’d no more stepped inside when something slammed into the back of his head. For a split second he saw stars and then there was nothing but blackness.

When he woke, he was lashed to a chair. There were two men in the room. The Stikeleathers from the altercation in the bar.

“Well, well, lookey here, Donny. Mr. Bad-Ass is awake.”

Donny walked over in front of Clay. “Not such a bad ass after all, are you?” With that, he slammed his fist into Clay’s face.

Clay’s head reeled back from the blow, blood spurting from his split lip. Dennis grabbed Donny’s arm before he could deliver another punch. “’Member what Davy said. Leave him be until we hear from Davy.”

Donny shook off the restraining hand. He didn’t hit Clay again, but he did leer in his face. “Soon as we get the word from Davy, I’m gonna beat the living shit outta you. Then I’m gonna gut you and bury you where no one will ever find you.”

Clay had never known fear, but the man’s words did strike a cold chord within him.

“That ain’t the plan,” Dennis argued. “We’s to wait for Davy. Once he gets here with Rusty, we gonna fuck her while the dude watches. Then in the morning we’s all going to the judge and Davy’s gonna marry the bitch and have her sign over the ranch to him. Once that’s done, we gonna come back here and finish off the dude and make it look like she did it.”

Clay could not believe what he was hearing, or that anyone was stupid enough to lay out their plan the way Dennis had. But what he could believe was that any of the Stikeleathers were mean enough to try and carry out the plan. Clay wasn’t ready to die, but he thought he’d rather die than see Rusty suffer at their hands.

Which meant he had to find a way to free himself and be ready when Davy arrived. The question was how?

Wait. Koda’s voice rang in his mind. It is not yet time to act.

When? Clay asked silently.

You will know when the moment is upon you.

What the heck does that mean? Clay silently asked. But there was no answer. There was nothing left to him but to wait. And worry.

* * * *

Davy shoved Rusty toward the bunkhouse. Thanks to her stunt in the truck, they’d had to walk the rest of the way. He’d cursed and threatened her every step, but she’d remained silent. If nothing else, what she’d done was buy time. She could only hope it had not been a foolish decision. Come on Koda, she prayed. I need you.

The reached the bunkhouse and Davy pounded on the door. “It’s me! Open up.”

The door opened and Davy shoved Rusty in ahead of him. She got one look at Clay, bound to the chair with a bloody face, and whirled on Davy, kicking out and catching him in the thigh. “You sorry pack of shit!” She followed up the kick by swinging both cuffed wrists at his head, as he bent over to grab his leg.

“Goddamn!” he yelled as she started pummeling him with both fists. “Get her the fuck off me!”

Donny grabbed Rusty around the waist and hauled her up off the floor, kicking and screaming. He slung her around, let go, and she crashed into the table and crumpled in a heap to the floor.

“Rusty!” Clay shouted, struggling at his bonds.

“Clay!” She started scrambling across the floor to him on her knees.

“Shut the fuck up!” Davy screamed at him and whipped out his gun and pointed it at Clay’s head.

Rusty froze then slowly stood. “He’s no real use to you, Davy. It’s me that holds the title to Blackhawk. And I’m the only one who can lead you to the treasure. Just leave him be.”

“One more smart move from you, and I’m putting a bullet between his eyes. You got that?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then take off your clothes.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Take off your fucking clothes.”

Rusty held up her manacled wrists. “Kinda hard to with these on.”

He handed his gun to Dennis. “If she tries anything smart, shoot the dude.” As soon as the gun had transferred hands, Davy produced the key and unlocked the cuffs.

“Now,” he said as he returned to his brother and reclaimed his gun. “Get outta those clothes.”

“No!” Clay shouted, bumping the chair around and struggling at the ropes that held him.

Donny clubbed him in the side of the head hard enough to topple the chair over sideways. The chair back broke, loosening the rope enough that by the time Donny had hold of the chair, trying to right it, Clay had one arm free. He grabbed Donny’s arm as Donny bent over and yanked hard enough to send Donny tumbling forward onto his head on the floor.

Dennis ran to his brother’s assistance. As he was trying to get Donny off the floor, Clay was pummeling him with his free fist in the kidney. Rusty used the moment to make a dive at Davy, trying to get his gun. He saw her coming and lashed out. The gun caught her in the side of the head and sent her reeling. She fell, shook her head and climbed to her feet to launch another attack.

At the sound of the gunshot, everyone froze.

Davy walked over and pressed the gun into Clay’s temple. “You want to see him die, bitch?” he screamed at Rusty.

“No.”

“One more thing outta either of you and he dies. You got me?”

“Yes,” she agreed immediately, cutting her eyes at Clay with a silent plea for him to do the same.

Clay made no reply. “Get him tied up again. Tight this time,” Davy ordered.

It took a few minutes for Dennis and Donny to right the chair and retie Clay. When they finished, they were sweating and red-faced.

“Now, have a seat, boys,” Davy said in a grandiose fashion. “My future wife is going to give us a little show.

“Right, honey?” he asked with a sneer at her.

“Right,” she said and smiled.

Where’ve you been? she silently communicated with Koda.

I thought there might be wisdom in numbers. Use what is at your disposal to free the human and get the two of you from the path of danger.

She smiled again. The odds had just gotten better.

“I do this better with music,” she said as she started to strip off the jacket she wore over her top.

“Then hum, bitch.” Davy laughed. “Just get outta those clothes.”

“Good idea,” she said and started singing in a low tone, words that only she recognized.

She peeled off her jacket and tossed it at Donny, then turned as she started pulling her top up. Her eyes met Clay’s. “Dico,” she sang.

At the word that came from Rusty’s mouth, Clay knew the moment was right. Aeris accendo asporto! he murmured. Aeris accendo asporto.

Again, Koda’s voice urged.

“Three times three,” Rusty sang, pulling her top over her head and letting it fall to the floor.

Clay counted the number of times he repeated the phrase, noticing that none of the men seemed to even know he was speaking.

At the end of the last syllable of the final word, Clay felt something swell inside him, something he’d never experienced. Energy seemed to blossom inside him, growing until it he felt like a balloon that was overfilled.

Acting on instinct, he blew out his breath.

What happened next was like something out of a dream. A sound like an approaching freight train emerged from Clay’s mouth and Davy toppled over in his chair and went tumbling across the floor like he was being blown by a hurricane.

Donny and Dennis, sitting on the bed, were slammed back against the wall, their arms splayed out, like bugs on flypaper.

Rusty was the only one unaffected. She ran to Clay and started working at the knotted rope. Within seconds his arms were free.

“What’s happening?” he yelled to be heard over the sound of wind that continued to roar in the room, blowing furniture and ripping curtains from the windows “No time,” she replied and finished untying his legs. “Come on!”

Taking his hand she pulled him toward the door. “Come on, it won’t last much longer!”

“The gun!” Clay yelled and pulled away from her.

“Leave it!” she screamed. “Clay, leave it!”

They raced out of the house and into the midst of what had to be two hundred wolves. Standing at the head of the pack was Koda.

Clay skidded to a halt. “Holy shit!” He looked around warily at all the wolves.

“Here they come,” Rusty announced.

Clay spun around the see Davy burst out of the bunkhouse with his gun in his hand. He stopped abruptly when he saw the wolves. Donny, behind him, nearly knocked him down and in turn was run into by Dennis. All three men stood gawking at the wolves.

Davy looked at Rusty then smirked and raised the gun to point it at Koda. She stepped forward with a soft “no”, and raised her right hand.

A bolt of light shot from her hand, striking the gun and lighting it like molten metal. Davy screamed and threw it down. It sizzled and hissed as it hit the damp ground.

“Now,” Rusty said with a smirk at Davy, “here’s how it’s gonna go. You three are gonna sit down right there on the porch while Clay and I call the sheriff. And if you try to run…” She looked around at the wolves and then shrugged. “Well, you get the idea, right, Davy? After all, you aren’t stupid.”

In unison the men sat down, looking fearfully at the wolves, as they huddled together on the porch. Clay put in a call to the sheriff. Within twenty minutes the place was swarming with law enforcement vehicles.

* * * * *

Two hours later the last of the police cars pulled away, leaving Rusty and Clay standing alone in the drive. Clay draped his arm over Rusty’s shoulder and she snuggled up to his side.

A yip drew their attention. Koda appeared out of the darkness, followed by the pack. Rusty knelt down and hugged Koda, then stretched out her hand to the pack.

Clay watched in amazement as the pack surrounded them, the wolves licking and rubbing up against Rusty as she knelt with her arm around Koda. When at length, she’d stroked and thanked each of them, they melted away into the darkness like ghosts.

Rusty gave Koda one final hug. “Thanks,” she said. “No one has ever been blessed with a truer friend than I am by you. All’s well now in our home, so go run and relax. I’ll be fine here with Clay.”

Koda looked up at Clay then threw back his head and let loose a long howl. In the darkness answering bays sounded. Rusty grinned as Koda took off into the darkness.

She held out her hand to Clay. He took it and pulled her up to him.

“We did it,” she said with a smile.

“You did it,” he argued.

“No, we.” She pressed her hand on his chest. “All of us.”

Clay shook his head. “There’s one thing I don’t understand. What’s the bit about a treasure?”

Rusty smiled up at him. “When I was five, Davis came trying to put the moves on my mother. She rejected him outright, and he stole a letter she was writing to her family. In it she wrote that the treasure was safe and would remain so as long as it was on Blackhawk soil. He thought it meant there was a buried treasure.”

“What did it mean?” he asked.

“What she actually wrote was a kincseim is safe and shall remain so as long as she dwells on Blackhawk land, for she and the land are one.”

“What does a kincseim mean? And what was she talking about?”

“Kincseim is Hungarian for ‘my treasure’, the endearment my mother used for my father, and later for me. She always knew that this is where I belong, that this land is part of me, and I of it.”

Clay was silent for a long time, standing there in the darkness, holding Rusty. “She was right. You are a treasure. My treasure. And if this is where you belong, then it’s where I belong too.”

“But your home is in Arizona,” she said softly. “You have family and friends, a connection to your ranch as strong as the one I have here. I can’t ask you to give that up, Clay. I don’t want you to.”

“Then what’s the answer, darlin’? We’ve got to have a home for all our little ones.”

“Little ones?” she asked with a smile. “In case you’ve forgotten, Mr. Russell, we aren’t even married.”

“Well, I’m aiming to fix that,” he said and turned her to face him, clasping his hands behind her back. “I figure if you’re going to persist in that annoying habit of calling me Mr. Russell, I ought to at least be able to return the favor and call you Mrs. Russell.”

“Mrs. Blackhawk-Russell,” she corrected him.

He opened his mouth as if to argue, then shook his head. “Whatever you say, darlin’. Marry me.”

Rusty reached up to pull his face down to her. “You know, I think I just might.”

“Might?” He pulled back from her before their lips could meet.

“Yep. One day. Right now we got something to do.”

“What?”

“This,” she said with a laugh and broke away from him.

“Hey!” He made a grab for her as she took off running toward the woods, shucking her clothes as she ran. “What the heck you doing?”

“Celebrating,” she said as she stopped to face him. “Come on, Clay. Come dance naked with me under the moon.”

“Can’t we just celebrate in the bed like regular folks?” he asked, starting for her.

“Nothing regular about us, Mr. Russell. Hadn’t you figured that out yet?”

“Well…” He stopped, considered it, then grinned and started unbuttoning his shirt. “Well hell, when in Rome.”

Rusty laughed in delight and watched him disrobe. When he walked up to her, naked and erect, she pulled him to her and jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Time to dance, cowboy.” She waved her hands in the air and sparkling lights streamed from her fingers.

Clay chuckled and twirled around. Rusty leaned back, trusting him to hold her, her long hair streaming like a banner as he spun her around, both of them laughing as lights twinkled and danced around them.

“I could live to be a hundred and not get enough of you. Have you cast a spell on me, Rusty? Enchanted me so that my hunger for you knows no end?”

Rusty smiled. “All I did was invite you to dance.”

He chuckled. “And just what do you call this dance?”

“Love, Clay. I call it love.”

“Me too, darlin’. Me too.”