Gold Dust Widow: The Story of an Outlaw's Revenge

Chapter 20: Jasper

Ares raced ahead of me, his nose to the ground, as we followed Clara's tracks through the canyon. I clutched the reigns, watching the horizon to see if I could spot her, while I gleefully plotted her punishment.

This would be the fourth time she'd tried to run from me, and she'd only succeeded once before, I wasn't going to let her get away again.

I was somewhat confused as to why she would run from me this time, she had seemed determined to follow the Mealy Gang's tracks, which were in another direction, and she'd defended me to her fellow outlaws, so it seemed illogical.

The woman was as slippery as an eel, and just as dumbfounding.

Thoughts of cuffing her to my bed, completely naked and flushed with lust, whimpering with need kept me pushing my stallion faster and faster.

Ares raced around a bend and gave out a loud bark. I followed him out onto a ledge, facing an empty clearing. Ares was sniffing around in the dust, and then he sat and barked again.

I swung off the stallion and approached. There were tracks of two horses, but also footprints, and what seemed like scuffled marks.

Then I saw the blood. Ares was definitely trained to scent blood.

I stood and glanced around. There was nothing else, no signs of Clara, and no signs of the young man. I could feel my heart starting to race in my chest; my breathing was short as waves of worry washed over me.

My hands curled into tights fists as I swung back up onto the stallion. Something had happened; either Clara or the boy was hurt. I could feel my blood running cold when I imagined the Mealy Gang jumping them, when I imagined them getting their hands on her. They were nearby; the wagon train was proof of that.

They could have her. I could feel the rage coursing through me at the thought of a single man putting his hands on her. Of someone hurting her. It was a rage I couldn't contain.

What could I have been thinking to let her follow such dangerous men? She was desert-hardy, she was strong, and probably the best shot I'd seen in my life, but she was still a woman, and now she was alone in a lawless land. And she was my woman, I should have protected her.

"Find her, Ares," I growled, edging the stallion on to a kick canter through the winding canyon trails, my thoughts entirely on finding Clara and holding her in my arms again, safe.

And killing any man who'd dared touch a hair on her head.

Ares and I raced through the canyon, following whatever tracks I could see, whatever scent he could pick up on.

There were a few drops of blood along their trail, enough for someone to be hurt, but not enough to slow them down, much. Though it was enough to worry me, was she bleeding out? My mind spun with the injuries my father had shown me, so many were fatal.

When we rounded out onto the plains, it became obvious to me that Clara and Thomas had been riding fast. And there still didn't seem to be any other tracks. Which only further confirmed my initial fear, Thomas had hurt her, and he was trying to take her away from me.

I gripped the reins, breathing heavily through the cold air, straining my body forwards, and pushing the stallion faster and faster.

I didn't let myself think, I emptied my mind, honed my focus. I couldn't let my concern seep into my mission. I couldn't let the thoughts of her sweet female body, her quick wit, wide eyes or fearless temperament veer me off course.

I was hunting an outlaw. That is what I did best. I always caught my man. This time would be no exception.

Their tracks veered northwest, towards the red mountains, straight into what looked like a thunderstorm. Thick black clouds were stretching across the sky, heavy and omnipresent.