Ransom by Frank Roderus

them?”
    â€œIt’d be nice, but I don’t ‘expect’ nothing. I just know I’m gonna follow wherever those sons o’ bitches lead, wherever that is, however long it takes.” Taylor leaned back against his cantle and scowled.
    Hahn said nothing, but his expression was as grim as Taylor’s as he nudged the paint horse forward again.
    * * *
    Richard Hahn broke a three-inch piece off the end of a juniper twig and tossed it into the fire. He watched it flare and quickly burn up, then broke off another small piece and threw it in after the first. “We didn’t do very well today, did we?” he asked.
    Taylor shrugged. “We got out the town. We got this far. That’s something.”
    â€œBut Jessica . . .”
    â€œIs no worse off tonight than what she was this morning,” Taylor said.
    â€œWhat if they . . .” Hahn swallowed hard. He seemed to be having trouble getting the words out. “What if they ravage her?”
    â€œI know you’d care, Hahn, but would that make her soiled goods to you? Would you feel different about her?” Taylor reached for a stick, wrapped some soft dougharound it, and began roasting the pan bread over the coals.
    â€œI resent that implication,” Hahn snapped.
    â€œHuh. Resent all you damn please. I still ask the question.”
    â€œI took her in after she was with you, didn’t I?”
    â€œAin’t the same thing. I was married to her. Still am, for that matter. This is different. We don’t know how many kidnappers there are. They might could all pass her around among them. Loozy too, for that matter. Wouldn’t make no difference to me. I love them. Both of them. I’d be happy to get them back after a hundred men was with them. But a prissy little fart like you”—he shrugged again—“I ain’t so sure about you.”
    Hahn opened his mouth but Taylor quickly said, “Don’t be so quick to answer. Think about it a day or two before you say anything. Both of us’s futures could depend on it.”
    â€œYou’d like me to reject her for something that is not her fault, wouldn’t you?” Hahn accused.
    â€œDamn right I would. Now hand me that stick with the bacon on it, will you.”
    Hahn left the fire without handing Taylor the requested bacon and sought the solitary comfort of his bedroll.
    Â 
    Jessica Taylor
    Jess let the stick droop down onto the coals, deliberately allowing the chunk of fat bacon to become crusted with ash and charred wood. She hoped Ederle would break a tooth on something she picked up there.
    â€œWatch it, you dumb bitch. I told you not to let that touch the ashes,” Ederle snarled.
    â€œAnd you watch your language,” Jessica snapped back at him, picking the stick up off the coals. “You needn’t be crude. There is a child listening, you know.”
    Ederle grunted. He hunched his shoulders and said nothing further, but it was obvious he was not happy with her.
    Jess glanced at the man out of the corners of her eyes, then let the stick droop again. Soon Ederle’s supper was once more in contact with the ash.
    Loozy looked at her mama and suppressed a giggle, then went back to very carefully tending the pieces of fat bacon that they would share for their evening meal. It was one thing to sabotage the man’s food. It would be another to ruin their own.
    They had to do the best they could under these trying circumstances. Both of them did.

Chapter 7
    â€œHold up there a minute,” Hahn called.
    Taylor looked over his shoulder and frowned at Hahn, who was trailing by twenty feet or so. “What’s your problem now?” Taylor demanded.
    â€œI got to get down for a minute. My legs are cramping and my drawers are riding up in my crotch until I just can’t stand it.”
    â€œMister, you whine an’ snivel more’n just about anybody I ever come across. Well, anybody over two