Page 51 of Dark Side of the River

A horse couldn’t outrun a four-wheeler, especially one of these big, powerful machines. His and Tilly’s only hope was to go up higher into rougher country where the all-wheel vehicles couldn’t follow them. “This way,” he yelled, and headed straight up the side of the mountain. He heard one of the engines stop to idle and felt his heart drop.

A spray of bullets ripped across the ground behind them, sending pine bark and wood splinters into the air along with dirt and pebbles. They spurred their horses toward the larger pines. The pine trees were sparse but provided some cover as they reached them.

Cooper could hear the roar of the four-wheelers again. They were going up the ravine off to the left of them. He knew that they had to get up higher on the ridge and into the denser trees before the men broke out of the ravine. If he and Tilly could distance themselves by going through the rough, broken country where the four-wheelers couldn’t follow, they might stand a chance.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

STUARTGOTAcall from a deputy about a multivehicle accident outside of town. He sent a second deputy out to the wreck, but then a bar fight broke out. With both deputies out at the highway accident, he took the saloon call.

As he walked into the Wild Horse Bar, he saw two men wrestling on the floor. Several tables had been overturned, beer and glass on the floor just feet from them. He recognized the men at once and swore. Boyle Wilson from the Stafford Ranch and Rusty Malone from the McKenna Ranch.

“Knock it off or I’m going to shoot both of you!” he yelled, to no avail. He motioned to the bartender to hand him the baseball bat from behind the bar. Taking it, he jabbed Rusty, who was on top, in the side with the end of the bat. “That’s enough!”

The two kept fighting. He jabbed Boyle, who was now on top. “I’m going to start using this bat if you two don’t stop.” He hit Boyle harder, knocking the air out of him and grabbing the back of his shirt to drag him off. As Rusty started to go after Boyle, the sheriff caught the cowboy in the gut, doubling him over. “Make another move and, so help me, I’ll nail you.”

Rusty wiped at his bloody lip as he fought to catch his breath and slowly rose. Stuart let go of Boyle but stayed between the two men. “What is wrong with you two? It’s too early in the day for this.”

“He jumped me,” Boyle accused, pointing at Rusty, who immediately went into how Boyle had said some things.

“Stop, both of you,” Stuart snapped. He was in no mood for this. Having Cooper storm into his office first thing this morning had set his day off on a bad note already. “I should arrest the both of you for disturbing the peace and let your bosses come bail you out.”

“That’s not necessary,” Boyle said, backing down first. Apparently, he didn’t want Charlotte Stafford coming to the jail to free him.

“What about you?” Stuart asked Rusty, who shrugged. “Both of you get out of here. Next time, I’m taking you in.”

He handed the bat back to the bartender as the two left. “They cause any damage?”

The bartender shook his head. “Not really. But it’s getting worse between those two families,” he said with a shake of his head as he put the bat away. “Not just the families, but the men who work for them.”

“They’ve been fighting as far back as I can remember,” Stuart said. “Over water, land, love affairs gone bad.” He thought of Cooper and Tilly. They were just fooling themselves if they thought they could be together. Maybe Tilly would come to her senses. Or maybe Cooper would force the prosecutor to reopen Leann’s suicide case and end up behind bars again.

The one thing he knew for certain was that they could never overcome the long-running feud between their families.

COOPERHADN’THEARDany more gunfire. Even the sound of the four-wheelers was distant by the time they reached the top of the ridge and headed across the top. They had little choice but to take the south ridge. To the east was a band of sheer cliffs, the top edge marked by large boulders. To the west was more rugged country that dropped back into the narrow valley where the old homestead sat.

He hoped the men on the four-wheelers had turned back but knew differently as he picked up the faint sound of revved engines again. Looking off the cliff side of the ridge, he realized that the two riders must be traveling along what appeared to be a rock ledge some distance below.

Cooper reined in, motioning for Tilly to keep going. “I’ll catch up.” He could see where the ledge below widened. Once the men on the four-wheelers reached that point, they would be able to pick off him and Tilly up on this ridge.

That meant that Cooper had to stop them before they reached that point. Dismounting, he walked his horse over to the edge of the ridge out of the possible line of fire and tied the reins to a tree. He saw Tilly winding along the ridge through the sparse pines and large rocks and hoped she’d keep going no matter what happened with his half-baked plan.

The four-wheelers were getting closer. He moved back to the edge of the cliff. Looking back, he caught glimpses of the vehicles through the pines below. He stepped to a large boulder balancing on the edge of the cliff. If he could dislodge some of the larger rocks... He tried a couple without success, then found one that gave a little. He waited.

He could hear the four-wheelers growing closer and closer on the rock ledge below. Soon they would be directly under him and the boulder he’d dislodged. He made himself wait a little longer, trying to gauge their distance, knowing he had to activate his plan at the right moment or risk getting shot or completely failing in stopping them.

They were almost directly below him. He sent the first boulder off; it hit other rocks on the cliff, starting a rockslide as it tumbled down toward the ledge and the riders on it. He quickly moved to another boulder and pushed it over the edge. It careered down, the sound of moving rocks almost blotting out the roar of the four-wheeler engines. He worked quickly, sending more rocks off the cliff.

They were directly below him now. He could hear rocks still crashing down as he pushed off yet another. He’d been afraid to look, fearing that he’d only managed to give his location away.

Through the dust and rocks still falling, he finally chanced a look. The first four-wheeler had managed to stay on the ledge, the large rocks missing it. The first rider must have caught the movement and sped up as rocks went airborne over the ledge, missing him.

But as Cooper watched, a large boulder he’d dislodged careened down, striking the second four-wheeler and its rider—sending both off the ledge to tumble down the mountainside.

The rocks continued crashing down. The rider of the first four-wheeler had gone some distance along the ledge before stopping. The man was looking back, no doubt trying to see through the dust and rocks. As the rockslide slowed and the dust began to settle, it was clear that the second rider and his four-wheeler were out of commission.

Cooper saw the first rider look up in his direction and swing the AR15 up. Bullets riddled the top of the cliff, sending rock chips flying into the air. He ducked down, feeling some of the chips cut into his face as he moved quickly to where he’d left his horse. Swinging up in the saddle, he waited until he heard the roar of the four-wheeler before he went after Tilly, staying in the trees as much as possible.

Below him on the mountain, he could hear the vehicle’s engine. As the ridge began to drop down to the lowlands, he stopped. The rider on the four-wheeler would have reached a wide spot on the ledge he’d been following. He’d have a clear shot at them. But would he continue on, hoping to stop them?

---