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    “Well, lookie here…”
    Three scruffy, ill-kept men stepped out of the brush, weapons pointed at Charlie and Opal. “Looks like we’ve stepped in the middle of a lover’s spat or sumpin’.”
    “Reckon you two had better not make any fast movements.” The largest of the men, with a scraggly black beard, waved his pistol at Charlie. “And I’d ‘preciate it if you’d throw down that gun belt you’re wearin’.”
    Charlie reached to unbuckle the leather belt at his waist, lowering it gently to the ground even as he stepped in front of Opal. He didn’t like the light in the men’s eyes as they looked on her greedily.
    How had he let himself get so distracted? If he hadn’t been so focused on making sure Opal was all right, he would’ve sensed the men sooner.
    “Whatever it is you’re after,” and Charlie had a sneaking suspicion about what it could be, “I’ll ask you to leave my wife out of this. She can ride on back the way she came.”
    “Wife?” One of the men asked, a leer in his voice. He spat a wad of tobacco on the ground. “Pretty lil thang like her ain’t married to a cowboy like you, is she?”
    Charlie cut his eyes toward Opal, praying she would play along with his white lie. Although the illusion of being married might not buy her much protection if these were the sort of scoundrels he thought they were, they might think twice about their plans with a husband around bent on protecting her.
    “She is,” Opal said faintly, moving to Charlie’s side and slipping under the arm he raised to wrap around her shoulders.
    She trembled like an autumn leaf in a windstorm.
    “We ain’t here for the woman,” Black Beard said to the other men. “We want the gold.”
    Opal stiffened against his side and Charlie squeezed her once, hoping to offer what little comfort he could. He’d thought right. These were the same men that had chased and shot at them on their way to the Circle B from Sheridan. One of the men moved with a noticeable limp and had suspicious dark stains on his dirty trouser leg.
    “I’ll take you to the mine,” Charlie said. “Why don’t you just let my wife go?”
    “No deal,” said Black Beard, who seemed to be in charge. “She might ride to one of the neighbors and get a posse stirred up.”
    She might, if she had any sense of direction or knew where any of the neighbors lived.
    “She comes.”
    Charlie chose not to argue with the man further. His mind raced ahead, trying to figure a way to get her out of this predicament.
    “Slim, go get the horses,” Black Beard ordered, and one of the men moved back through the woods to where they must’ve stashed their mounts.
    Charlie moved toward his horse, wondering if he could boost Opal into the saddle and get her out of here before the bandits would notice. He wasn’t too worried about himself. He knew the other cowhands would follow the tracks from the three other horses and catch them eventually. Might not be tonight, since the sunlight was already fading, but Charlie didn’t doubt his ability to hold his own against the three of them. He just wanted Opal out of the way and back to safety, where she belonged.
    “I’m thinkin’ ya don’t need two horses between the two of ya,” Black Beard said, moving over to where Misty stood, placidly chewing some long grass stalks. He looped her reins over her saddle and slapped her rump, sending her galloping away. “It’ll be easier to keep an eye on both of ya if you ride together.” There was no mistaking the warning in his manner or his voice. Charlie couldn’t risk getting Opal hurt. Now she’d have to stick close to him.
    “Shouldn’t we be settling down for the night? We can’t ride after dark, can we?” Opal asked. “How will we see where we’re going?”
    “We got lanterns,” Black Beard grunted. “How far is it, cowboy?”
    “Coupla miles, to my recollection.” With Opal still huddling under his outstretched arm, Charlie felt her tense and