But for now, more gunplay appeared to have been headed off. Conrad had a chance to find out who the girl was and what was going on here, and he wanted to take advantage of that opportunity. He didn’t mind fighting, but he generally liked to know what he was fighting for, especially when this trouble was delaying him in his efforts to find his missing children.
Conrad heard the buggy and the girl’s horse departing behind him. He waited and continued backing his horse away from the gunmen. When he had put a hundred yards between himself and them, he whirled the horse without warning and kicked it into a run. As he galloped after Arturo and the girl, he looked over his shoulder and saw that the Mormons weren’t giving chase. That surprised him a little, but obviously Leatherwood had decided they were going to bide their time.
Conrad was sure of one thing: This trouble was far from over.
Because Kiley was right. There was no place for them to go where the avenging angels couldn’t find them.
3
Conrad, Arturo, and their unexpected companion didn’t stop until they had gone at least a mile. Conrad kept checking behind them. He was ready to stop and throw up a screen of rifle fire to cover their getaway, but the gunmen didn’t come after them.
When they finally reined in, the horses were all fatigued by the hard run. The young woman’s horse was in the worst shape because she had been fleeing from her pursuers before Conrad and Arturo joined the chase.
The young woman wasn’t in much better shape. When she tried to dismount, she half fell out of the saddle and had to grab hold of a stirrup to keep herself from dropping to the ground.
Conrad had already slid his Winchester into the saddle boot and swung down from the black. He reached out to grasp her arm and steady her. “Arturo,” he said, “get one of the canteens.”
Arturo turned around on the buggy seat and found a canteen in their boxes and bags of supplies. He climbed down from the seat and brought the water over to them. Conrad unscrewed the cap and held the canteen to the young woman’s mouth. She grabbed it with both hands and tried to gulp down as much water as she could, but Conrad pulled the canteen away after a couple of swallows.
“Take it easy,” he told her. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
“I . . . I . . . Thank you,” she gasped. “If you hadn’t come along . . . I wouldn’t have made it much farther.”
While Conrad waited a moment before he gave her another drink, he took advantage of the opportunity to have a good look at her. She was tall and slender, and hair a little lighter in color than honey flowed all the way down her back to her hips. She wore men’s clothing: a rough cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up a couple of turns on tanned forearms, brown twill trousers with suspenders that went over her shoulders, and work boots that laced up. Despite the clothing, no one would ever take her for anything but female.
“What’s your name?” Conrad asked.
She’d been breathless when she dismounted, but she was starting to recover. “Selena,” she said. “Selena Webster.”
“I’m Conrad Browning. This is my friend Arturo Vincenzo.”
Conrad handed her the canteen, and this time he didn’t have to take it away from her. She took a long drink, but not enough to make her sick. As she gave him the canteen, she said, “I can’t thank you enough for helping me, but I’m afraid you’ve just doomed yourselves. Like Jackson Leatherwood said, when you interfere with Father Agony’s men, you’ve signed your own death warrant.”
Despite the perilousness of their situation, Conrad couldn’t help but laugh. “Father Agony?” he repeated. “That’s a pretty melodramatic name, don’t you think?”
Selena smiled, but there was no real humor in the expression. “That’s what some of his wives call him. His name is Agonistes Hissop.”
“The man’s parents had odd taste in nomenclature,” Arturo said.
“Or else they were readers and admirers of Milton’s Samson Agonistes,” Conrad said. “Agonistes being from the Latin for ‘one who struggles for a worthy cause.’”
Selena gave him an odd look. He didn’t bother explaining that he had taken a number of courses in the classics during his university days.
“The man’s parents raised a monster,” Selena said after a moment. “His name is hardly the worst thing about him.”
“He’s the elder that Leatherwood and the others work for?” Conrad guessed.
Selena nodded. “He has a ranch about twenty miles northwest of here in a place called Juniper Canyon. It’s more like his own little town, because a lot of his followers live there as well. He’s a very rich, important man, and he doesn’t let anyone forget it.”
“You mentioned his . . . wives,” Conrad said. “I seem to remember reading in the newspaper that the Mormon Church outlawed polygamy almost ten years ago.”
That brought a laugh from Selena. “Just because Father Agony is a saint doesn’t mean that he agrees with everything the church leadership does. He believes that he’s a prophet, like Joseph Smith, and that God has granted him the wisdom and right to make his own laws. He’s always had multiple wives, and he doesn’t want to give them up.”
Conrad nodded. “And let me guess . . . he wants to add you to the number?”
The grimace that momentarily twisted Selena’s face was answer enough to that question. She said, “I’ll never marry him. He can kill me first, or more likely have Leatherwood and the rest of his avenging angels do it for him, but I don’t care. That would be better than . . . than . . .”
“Maybe it won’t come to that,” Conrad said so that she wouldn’t have to go on. “I don’t like to brag, but Arturo and I are pretty good at handling trouble.”
“Have you ever had an army of triggerites after you? Because that’s what you’ll be facing if you try to help me. I appreciate what you did, but you’d be better off if we went our separate ways. If Leatherwood and the others see that I’m not traveling with you, maybe he’ll spare your lives. Maybe.”
Conrad shook his head. “We’re not going to abandon you. Once I take cards in a game, I like to play it out.” He glanced toward the sun. “It’s past the middle of the afternoon. We’ll let the horses rest for a while longer, then we can start looking for a place to hole up for the night.”
“Why don’t you sit in the buggy, Miss Webster?” Arturo suggested. “The canopy provides a bit of shade from that brutal sun.”
Selena smiled. “Thank you. You’re very nice.”
“Not really. I just know that having you suffer a sunstroke would only make our situation worse.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, in that case, I appreciate it anyway.” She climbed onto the buggy seat and heaved a weary sigh.
Conrad kept an eye not only on the area where they had left Jackson Leatherwood and the other avenging angels but also the rest of the landscape around them. He wouldn’t put it past Leatherwood and the others to circle and come at them from a different direction. This vast expanse of Utah seemed as open and empty as if it had been on the moon, however.
Selena’s exhaustion must have caught up to her. She dozed off with her head sagging forward. While she was sleeping, Arturo asked Conrad, “Are you sure that getting involved in this young woman’s problems is a good idea, sir?”
“No,” Conrad said, “it’s a terrible idea. We need to get on about our own business. I know that. But . . . look at her. She’s not much more than a girl.”
“A very attractive girl.”
Conrad shrugged. “Yes, but that doesn’t have anything to do with it. She’s in trouble, and if we don’t help her, who will? Maybe we can take her someplace where she’ll be safe from those men.”