Now Wyatt’s stomach twisted with the fear that Kevin might’ve been shot in what had to be a jailbreak.

Wyatt was sick of all this trouble. He wanted to go back to busting broncs and dodging angry bulls. That’s the kind of peaceful, quiet life he loved.

With the men’s backs to them, dismounting, dragging their prisoners down, Wyatt stepped out from behind the boulder, his grip unshakeable on Molly’s arm, and darted across the trail to Cheyenne’s side.

Cheyenne rose from where she’d been concealed, her expression grim. Wyatt closed the distance between them. He noticed Molly wasn’t being dragged. In fact, she was coming along fast enough he had to move, or she’d be dragging him.

Wyatt got close enough he dared to whisper. “Rachel looked all in, and Win looked terrified.”

Cheyenne shook her head. “Rachel opened her eyes and saw me. She winked. She’s only acting unconscious. Which means she’s ready to fight. Win was pale as milk, but determined not terrified.”

“Where’s Kevin?” Molly broke in.

Cheyenne looked at Molly, her jaw so tight it was likely to crack her teeth.

“He wouldn’t have let them take her, not without a fight.” Wyatt saw Molly’s eyes fill with tears, but she squared her shoulders and swept the wrist of her coat across her eyes. A woman who didn’t cry when there was a battle to be fought, maybe later when she had time to spare, but not right now.

“I’ll kill both of them for what they’ve done to Kevin.” Molly raised her gun until it pointed to the sky, then turned to march down the trail.

Wyatt grabbed for her and missed.

Cheyenne got a grip on his arm that made his fingers go numb. “I’ll help you, Molly. They’re headed into the cabin, and Falcon is in there.” Cheyenne let go of Wyatt and fell in beside Molly.

After a second of doubting this was the right approach, Wyatt caught up to them and walked between them. They’d left him room, and he knew that was more than good luck. They knew he’d come, expected him to come. Counted on him coming. He felt the need to plan, to talk through what they’d do, but there was no time.

He picked up the pace, and they kept up until they were running.

“They’ve got Rachel and Win.” John stepped away from the single window. There was barely room for his broad shoulders between the door and bunk, but he pressed his back against the wall and drew his gun. He did all that in about a second, in time to see Falcon do the same on the other side of the door.