Number One touched the rope around his neck. “I’ve never seen Trapper put a lead rope on Midnight.”
“Someone else must have.” Emery felt fear cut off her breathing. “We need to hide, girls. Get back in the wagon. If someone besides Trapper is out there, we don’t want them to see us.”
Catherine Chapman straightened to her full height. “No, Mrs. Adams. We have to split up. Eliza and you stay in the wagon with Helen and Sophia. If anyone you don’t know comes near the wagon, start firing. Even if you don’t hit anyone, they’ll stay back.”
Emery nodded. The girl was right.
“Anna and I will go look for Trapper. If he’s hurt, we’ll get him back here.”
Emery agreed with the plan except for one detail. “Eliza will go with you. I’ll make sure no one comes near the little girls. You may need her.”
Eliza climbed out of the wagon, her arms full of rifles.
A tear ran down Emery’s cheek. Three little girls, thirteen, eleven, and ten. Barely half grown, but they were now warriors.
And, they were all better shots than she was.
One took the lead and all three disappeared in the fog.
Emery asked the little ones to bring her bag and sewing box. Four and Five brought them, then stood close beside her, as if it was their time to be on guard.
While she ripped her ugly wool dress and bandaged Midnight’s leg, they both asked questions.
Emery kept her voice low and calm. “One, Two, and Three have gone to get Trapper. We will stay here and on guard. If trouble comes, I want you both to get low in the wagon and stay silent. No matter what, don’t say a word. Just hide.”
Five straightened. “My father says Chapmans are fighters, not hiders.”
When she finished tying the bandage, she pulled the rope off Midnight and whispered, “Go find Trapper.”
As if the horse understood, he turned into the fog and vanished.
Chapter 12
Trapper sat with his hands still behind him, waiting for just the right moment. The shadowy figure in the fog was moving. Disappearing, almost becoming solid again.
The little man ordered the beefy boxer and one of the cowboys to saddle up. Trapper was pleased to see that the thin cowboy had a broken nose. The other cowboy close to Trapper was still cussing under his breath, like it was a twitch he couldn’t stop. He circled around him and pointed his rifle at Trapper’s face.
“Last chance. You go in and bring the girls out to us and we’ll let you ride away.” Little Napoleon moved in close, his tone low.
“They’re nothing to you. Five little rich girls who won’t ever amount to anything. Even if you got them back to their father, he probably wouldn’t take the time to thank you.” Napoleon shrugged. “And that little widow is nothing to no one or she wouldn’t be traveling alone. If she vanishes, no one would miss her.”
The little man put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. “You’re a good fighter, Trapper. If one of my men hadn’t slammed you in the head, you would have taken all three of them down, even Big Hank. I wouldn’t mind having a man like you in my gang.”
“I’m finished fighting,” Trapper lied. He kept his voice low and noticed the stranger in the fog moving closer.
With Big Hank and one of the cowboys gone to get their horses, there was a chance Trapper could shoot two of the three before they got off a shot.
But he didn’t dare act until the rifle moved more than an inch from his head. The cussing outlaw kept tapping the barrel against his chin, as if teasing him.
Trapper growled as he looked away from the dumbest one of the group. In the blink of a moment, he saw blond hair move just above the top of the ravine. One.
Trapper forced his almost-closed eyes open and studied the edge of the small rise. Two’s long, auburn hair flashed and disappeared. Two. Then he saw Three, ten feet away from her sister.
Trapper turned back to the head outlaw. “What if I did join up with you?”
Little Napoleon looked excited at the possibility.
To Trapper’s surprise, the short man glanced at the man in the fog. The day was warming, and the stranger wouldn’t be hidden for long.