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But as soon as they got back to the hideout, he'd
remedy his negligence. He'd back her against the wall and tie her up if he had to. Somehow, he'd figure out who in the hell she was and why she'd been at the bank.
"Get up," he growled.
"Don't blame me," she snapped. "It's not my fault they're following you."
He spun on her. "It is," he said tightly, and as he spoke the words, he knew they were true. "Somehow, it is."
She shrugged and tossed him the sleeping bag. "Arguably, of course, you're right. Everything in this dream is my fault. But you 're the outlaw."
He stomped on the fire, making sure it was completely out, then saddled up their horses. He gave her exactly two minutes of privacy behind a bush, then he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her toward her mount.
Naturally, she kicked and screamed. "Let go of me, damn it. I need a toothbrush."
He flung her onto the horse and glared up at her. "Do I need to tie your hands?"
"No." She spat the word.
"Does the posse catch me today?" he asked.
She smiled, a sickeningly sweet display that made him want to punch her. "Believe me now?"
He gripped her forearm hard. "Does the goddamn posse catch up with me today?"
"Yes. At Bloody Gorge."
He frowned, feeling a brush of cold fear at her smile. Bloody Gorge was a deadly box canyon?the perfect place to corner an outlaw and kill him like a rabid dog. He started to turn away, then he noticed her expression. "Why are you grinning?"
"You're going to die there. Slowly, horribly, with
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blood spurting out of several attractive orifices." She shook her head, made a tsldng sound. "It's one of the better action scenes I've written."
"Lady," he s
aid, "if I die, you're comin' with me."
"Oh, I don't think so. It's my dream, you see, and I'm going to be rescued by Joe Martin." She smiled at the thought. "And he's a hunk of burning love, believe me."
He turned his back on her in disgust and strode to his horse. Vaulting into the saddle, he smacked Captain and The Bitch on the butts. Both unsaddled horses trotted alongside the black.
The woman's face twisted into a grimace. She clutched her reins and clung to the saddle horn. "Oh, hell ..."
He felt a moment's satisfaction, then he kicked the black hard. The stallion surged into a gallop. The woman's roan leapt alongside, keeping up as Captain and The Bitch followed close beside them. They sped across the bumpy, uneven ground, raced up and down hills, and wound through canyons.
But even as they ran, Killian could feel the posse behind him, closing in for the kill. He glanced back time and again, searching for a sign, but all he saw was endless golden desert.
Joe Martin was back there, shadowing Killian's every move, waiting and watching, closing in.
For the first time in fifteen years, Killian felt an honest-to-God sense of fear. Somehow?he didn't know how he knew, but somehow he did?this woman was going to get him killed.
They were on a narrow trail carved from the sheer face of a treeless mountain. A blistering hot sun beat
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down on them, battered Lainie's face. She sighed tiredly; it was an oddly disembodied sound.
