Page 170 of The Ranger

Major almost bumped into him. “What is it?” he asked, not hiding the annoyance in his voice.

He stepped aside, so he could see what was before them.

“Duncan!”

Duncan stood, a man on each side of him with a gun to his temple. There was no sign of the pies he carried. Someone must have taken them.

The distinct sound of a gun being cocked behind him made his heart skip.

“Put down the pies,” came a gruff voice.

Markhel recognized the men holding Duncan, not to mention the voice behind him. They were the six cowhands that rode into the canyon. The same six that, in their own way, tried to console him with whiskey a few nights ago. “What do you want?”

John Bolger walked past Major, his pies in his hands, and tossed his head at Duncan. “Him.” He nodded to the men on either side of Major’s son. One of them pistol whipped the lad, who dropped like a stone. The two dragged him outside.

“Now I know what you’re thinkin’,” John drawled. He sniffed at a pie, then passed them off to one of his brothers. “The sheriff, he’ll save him!” He waved both hands for effect. “But your sheriff and deputies are busy collecting prizes for your little town dance. I hear tell there’s a cake walk. So, if you don’t make a fuss, we’re gonna borrow this boy, and if all goes well, return him to you in plenty of time for your party.”

Markhel frowned. “Borrow?”

John smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”

A man Markhel did not recognize, ran into the saloon. “We took care of the other one.” He rubbed the back of his head. “That old man in the mercantile gave us a lot of trouble, but since there’s so many of us, we managed to lock him and his wife in the storeroom.”

Major seethed. “What are you doing? Release my boy!”

Another gun was pointed at his head.

John tsked, tsked. “We said we’d return him.”

The man that locked the Dunnigans in their storeroom gave John a funny look. “Time to get out of here.” He sneered at Markhel and Major. “Cause a lick of trouble, and they won’t be coming back. Understand?”

“They?” Markhel ground out. His heart searched, but his hunger was overriding his ability to sense if Maida was okay. They weren’t joined yet and hadn’t established a good connection from his heart to hers.

This made him seethe.

“Ah, ah, ah…” John waved a finger at him. “Don’t try to interfere big man.”

“Yeah, don’t interfere!” one of his brothers spat. It was the man Markhel had punched in the face. He sported a black eye.

“Move away from each other.” John ordered. “And hand my brother those pies.”

Markhel did as he said, his eyes flicking to the window. They already had Duncan slung over a horse. The street was filling with men, and his heart began to pound erratically. His inner heart. What if they had Maida?

He growled low in his throat. If he attacked, they’d shoot Major, plain and simple. If he himself were shot, he could recover in time. But not Maida’s father.

The men backed out of the saloon; guns still pointed at them. “Don’t follow us,” John said. “If you do, we can’t guarantee they’ll be brought back in once piece, if brought back at all.” He ran outside as two of them rode off with Duncan, while someone else began to bark orders at John and his cohorts.

Markhel headed for the doors. Major followed. There was a commotion as two men fought to get Maida on a horse. Markhel was about to lunge when Major grabbed him by the arm. “Don’t! They’ve got Harrison!”

Across the street, two men had guns pointed at Harrison’s head.

Markhel cursed in Muiraran.

“I don’t think they want to harm her,” Major said. “But they will harm Harrison.”

Markhel studied the men, noting where each horse and rider were, and the ones that hadn’t mounted their horses yet. The men holding Maida managed to get her on the horse. One tied her hands to the saddle horn while another mounted up behind her.

She looked in horror at Harrison. “Grandpa!” She then spotted them. “Markhel!”