“You got strange eyes, lady, did anybody ever tell you that?”
It was late afternoon, but there was still plenty of sunlight. The terrain they were riding in at the moment was mostly flat, but in the not-too-distant distance some awesome peaks could be seen. And within half an hour they would be rising into pine-covered foothills. It was beautiful territory, though Allie was having a little trouble enjoying it.
The Lady Ranger's ice-colored eyes had a longer, wider reputation than she did herself. And it was always her biggest fear when having to operate incognito—that someone might recognize her by her eyes. But she had a pretty stock answer that had always worked before.
She cast a glance toward Terrell Tolliver, who had asked her the question. “What’s so strange about them? I have two, just like you do.”
“The color. A bit peculiar, don’t you think?”
Allie shrugged. “Your eyes are blue, too, just a little darker shade than mine. What’s so peculiar about that? And I don’t particularly like people making fun of the way I look. Would you?”
“I wasn’t making fun,” he said, defensively. “Just…commenting.”
“Well, keep your offbeat comments to yourself.”
He looked at her and gave her a wry smile. “Kinda feisty, aren’t you. That’s the way I like my women. Fighters. It’s more fun that way.”
“What’s more fun that way?” she asked, though she knew the answer. It always helped to play innocent, though.
“You’ll find out once we make camp.”
Yeah, and you’re liable to find out that I don’t want to find out, buster…
But Tolliver was still looking at her. “There’s a famous Ranger that’s supposed to have eyes like yours. Allie Summer. Dangerous as a rattlesnake, I hear.”
Allie shook her head. “Never heard of him. Not the kind of social circles I hang around in. But I figure you’ve heard of all the Rangers, and probably know a lot of them personally.”
“No, never met any of them, actually. They can’t touch us in Montana because we’ve never committed a crime up there. We make it a point not to because our hideout’s there. So all we have to do is avoid the law down here, or in whatever other territory we happen to be in.” Then his jaw tightened. “But we’re going to find Allie Summer, wherever she is. We’re not going to rest until we do. She killed my brother and she’s got to pay for that dearly.”
That told Allie a lot—mainly that the Tolliver brothers were after her. Such was a piece of news she would pass on to McConnell and maybe he’d finally let her go after the rest of the gang—for self-protection. But the only response she made to Tolliver’s statements was, “She?”
“Yeah, Allie Summer is a woman. With eyes like yours. That’s what made me wonder about you, especially after your comment about going to Carver Junction to pick up an outlaw and hang him.” He looked at Allie closely.
Allie was always afraid that her mouth and conceit might get her into trouble and she was walking a tightrope right now. “Well, I figured you’d understand a comment about outlaws. And especially about ones needing to be hanged.”
“The law will never get a rope around my neck,” Terrell replied. “Or Trent’s.” He changed the subject. “What are you really going to Carver Junction for?”
Allie sighed, as if a bit weary and despondent. “Family. My brother and sister live there. My husband died of cholera a few weeks ago up in Silver City, and I didn’t really have any reason to stay. So my brother Charles suggested I come down to Carver and live with him or Charlotte. Until I could figure something else out.”
“Sorry to hear about your husband,” Tolliver replied, but his voice didn’t hold a lot of sincerity.
“I’m sure you are. Just like I’m sorry to hear about your brother.”
He grunted. “You’ve got some Indian in you, too, don’t you.” It was pretty obvious from Allie’s features.
“A little. Mother was a breed. Father came from a long line of Canadian fur trappers.”
“Do all French have eyes the color of ice?”
“Do all Tollivers ask nosey questions?”
Terrell scowled at her. “Don’t be so touchy. I’m just trying to make conversation.”
“Like to learn everything you can about the women you intend to rape, huh.”
Terrell gave her an amused look. “You do have a mouth on you, don’t you.”
“Most humans do, but I wish you didn’t.”
Tolliver actually laughed. “Are you sure your husband didn’t commit suicide?”
Allie looked at him and smiled. Not her friendly “glad to know you” smile, but the “I’ll see you rot in hell” smile—the one where her eyes were cold enough to freeze an erupting volcano. She replied, “No, I told you. He died from…drinking bad water. Funny thing about that, too. We lived right next to a crystal clear stream.”
Tolliver studied her in some perplexity. He wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by that, but he thought he did. And he especially wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not.
Allie turned her head away from Tolliver, but the smile was still on her lips. “I hope we stop next to a nice, clear stream tonight, too.”
Hank and Sid had been listening to all this. Hank finally piped up, “I don’t care none about the water we drink or what color her eyes is, what I want to know is if’n she can cook. I’m tired of eatin’ Sid’s mess, he burns one side of ever’thing and leaves the other side raw.”
Allie replied, “Oh, I can cook real good. Buzzard and rattlesnake are my specialties.” She glanced around at the three men. “Seems like I’ve got a good selection in the immediate area, too.”
Hank, not understanding her, looked around. “I don’t see no buzzards or rattlesnakes. I wouldn’t think they taste too good nohow.”
Sid sighed. “She means us, you pea-brain.”
Hank blinked at him. “Oh. You mean she’s a-gonna cook us?”
Terrell was looking at Allie closely. “I have a hunch she might have a whole lot worse than that planned. Keep an eye on her, Sid. She’s a little too cool for my comfort. And not just her eyes.”
Allie figured she’d given herself away now. But as long as she was alive…and had a derringer up her left sleeve…and a knife up her right…and a gun stuck in the front of her pants…and one in a shoulder holster…and another derringer in a boot…and three garrotes and a razor…
The only thing she was really worried about…I don’t have my bow and arrows…
They started making camp about an hour later, in a clearing among the pines, and with a…crystal clear stream…about 20 yards away. Allie was far from the best cook in the world. Her mother, Sandra, had tried to teach her daughter the domestic sciences, such as cooking, sewing, baking, washing, and so forth, but Allie was always more interested in guns and knives and bows and arrows and sneaking around the forest like the half-Indian she was. She had wanted to be a lawman from the time she was about five years old after a nice sheriff pulled her kitty down from the branch of a tree and smiled at her. The kitty had gotten away from Allie and the little girl chased it, crying, fearing she’d never see the little cat again. The animal ran up a tree and Allie stood below, begging her pet to come down. It didn’t, but Sheriff W. T. McConnell happened by and handed Allie her kitty back. After that, the girl became almost obsessed with becoming a lawman, and, after her parents were killed by an angry mob who didn’t like an Indian being married to a white woman, Allie made her way to the Rangers headquarters in Port Station and convinced McConnell, who was now head of the force, to hire her. She was 17 years old at the time, and within a couple of years, became the best Ranger McConnell had. Allie was confident to the point of arrogance, beautiful in form and appearance, an expert in almost every weapon known at the time as well as Indian wrestling—which very few white men knew how to counter—crackerjack smart, wily as a fox, as quiet in the forest as a church mouse, had light-speed reflexes and reactions…and eyes…eyes of ice. Hypnotic and terrifying. At times, and from a distance, it looked like she had no eye color at all because the irises were so pale—just two, blank, white, ghostly, ghastly orbs. It didn’t hurt that those eyes belonged to the Lady Ranger just described.
But her mother had succeeded to an extent in teaching her some female responsibilities—as least as viewed at the time. So at the camp, Hank was almost drooling when Allie put on a pot of stew and sliced some potatoes and ham into it. “There should be some herbs around here I can add to enhance the flavor,” she told the men, so she went into the forest—with Sid and Terrell watching her—and pulled a few plants, which she duly shredded and added to the soup.
“How do we know them plants aren’t poisonous?” Sid asked Terrell.
Allie gave him a “get real” look. “I’ll take the first bite, if that will make you feel better,” she said to him.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Terrell said. “I’m thinking that maybe your husband always ate before you did.”
Allie smiled. “Maybe he did.”
They ate her stew and it was delicious; the herbs made all the difference. “Where did you learn about these plants?” Tolliver asked her.
“I’m part-Indian, remember.”
After they finished eating, Allie was prepared for anything. She took the plates down to the stream to wash them, and when she turned back to the camp, the three men were standing there, side-by-side, and each had a wicked smile on his face.
“Why don’t we get to know each other a little better, Allie Summer, before you pay the ultimate price for killing my brother?” Terrell Tolliver said.
That was a terrible mistake on Tolliver’s part, but perhaps he underestimated Allie because she was a woman; he wasn’t the first who had done so. He also should have made sure she wasn’t armed before he announced his recognition of her identity. But his lust for her—and for revenge, as well as praise from Trent for killing Allie Summer--had also played a part in warping his judgment. And he’s the one who almost paid the ultimate price.
As noted, Allie was ready--she always was. She was carrying the four flat iron plates they had used to eat on and that she had just washed. Quick as lightning, she flicked the plates, one at a time, at the three men; they flew like the flattened disks they were. Tolliver and his men were caught by surprise and had to duck and dodge the flying metal dishes, and by that time, Allie had her knife and derringer in her hands. The knife went straight into the heart of Sid Walker and a derringer bullet clipped Terrell Tolliver in the right shoulder. However, the men had recovered—the two who were alive—and were reacting.
Terrell was hurting because of the bullet wound and he yelled at Hank Frobisher, “Let’s get out of here!” He started running for the other side of the camp where the horses were. Hank, not the brightest of intellect but still a wily outlaw, had already pulled his gun and was shooting back. After throwing and firing, Allie had made a dive for some cover and rolled behind a tree. Hank continued to shoot as he ran after Tolliver and his bullets slapped the tree where Allie was concealed, keeping her at bay so that she couldn’t shoot back. After the firing stopped, Allie paused a few seconds to make sure they weren’t waiting for her to stick her head out, but then she heard the clomping of two horses on the move and knew that the men were escaping. The Lady Ranger jumped up and ran after them, but it was dark and they were well out of range anyway by the time she got to where she could have seen them. She slammed the side of her fist against a tree in disgust.
“They got away with my $200.” That, and the fact that Terrell Tolliver was still alive, left Allie Summer in a very bad mood.
“She kilt Sid, Terrell. I seen it. Knife right in the heart. Sid’s dead.” Hank was in angst as he and Terrell Tolliver rode away.
“I know that, you meathead,” Terrell said through gritted teeth. The bullet hadn’t entered his body, but it had taken a healthy chunk from his shoulder which was bleeding freely and causing him great agony. “Where did she get that gun and knife?” he asked, almost to himself.
“Let’s go back and git her,” Hank said. “We cain’t let her get away with killin’ Sid.”
“No,” Terrell said. “We can’t go back now, I’ve got to tend to this shoulder.” His cursed his disgust. “We underestimated her, Hank, we badly underestimated her.” He scowled. “And we won’t make that mistake again.”