Black Hills (9781101559116) Read Online Free PDF Page A

had simply dried up, leaving an ugly gouge in an otherwise pristine landscape. From the hilltop, Lainey could see an easy wagon passage about a quarter mile to the north, but there was no need for her to ride that far; she could cross right where she was.
    She guided the horse carefully down into the arroyo, around a fallen tree, and up the other side. As she crested the top, she found herself in the center of a half circle formed by four men on horses, one of the men the largest and ugliest man she had ever seen. He took her breath away.
    â€œWell, well, well,” he snarled. “Look what we found. Don’t be afraid, little missy. We are going to take right good care of you. There’s no sense in you being out here all by yourself, you can travel with us. A female around the camp for a while would be a nice change. I’m tired of eating our own cookin’, and we can teach you a few things you’ll need to know to become a woman.”
    To one of the others, who had ridden up close to her side unnoticed while she had been staring speechlessly at the big man, he said, “Take her reins for her, Raunchy. I’d feel terrible if her horse should get scared and run away. This nice-looking young lady might get hurt. We’ll just take her along with us to the farm. We can rest up there a few days, and it’ll give us all time to get acquainted with her.”

    Cormac let the horses drink at the water tank and then rode into the barn; the other horses followed. They knew what a barn was: barns meant food and barns meant rest. The six stalls normally used by the farm’s saddle horses and the two plow horses now grazing in the pasture were empty, and he let the horses select their own.
    After cleaning their wounds and putting on a generous coating of healing salve, he gave each a healthy helping of grain mixed with a little corn and climbed into the loft to kick down some hay. The richness of the alfalfa would speed the horses’ recuperation. His pa had planned the loft with a trapdoor over each stall’s feeder to make feeding easy.
    Cormac stood for a moment. He always enjoyed being in the barn with its smell of grain and hay, horses and liniments, and of well-oiled tack hanging on the hooks, but not this day.
    All alone, now , he thought. No more Becky to laugh with and torment, no mother to kiss him in the morning and teach him book learnin’, no pa to work beside and teach him man stuff . . . just alone. And they weren’t coming back. Never. His insides were filled with despair and a sick feeling of emptiness and hate. Cormac would find the men who did this, and they would die.
    He was stalling, he realized. He did not want to go into the house alone. One of the upper barn doors was open and swinging in the breeze, and he walked over to close it. Dakota rainstorms frequently came quickly, and if the hay became wet it would mold. Looking out over the farmyard, he froze in disbelief. In the distance, he could see five riders approaching. He recognized four of the horses that were coming home and their riders; on the fifth horse was a smaller and unfamiliar figure.
    It was unbelievable that the outlaws would show up here. He felt no fear, only a cold, terrible hatred like he could have never imagined. He hesitated only a moment. In the darkness of the loft, Cormac felt secure that he had not been seen. He backed away quickly from the door and slid down the ladder. His pa had laid out the barn in such a way as to make it possible to move from it to the house without being seen by someone approaching from the front. “You never know when it might come in handy,” he had told Cormac one day.
    Running into the house, he took down the shotgun and loaded both barrels with #3 shot for a tight pattern and powerful discharge. It was a ten-gauge; his pa had wanted the most powerful shotgun available for longer range, one capable of reaching out for birds flying away. Cormac also