There was only one way she could think of, but it would take every ounce of courage and acting ability she had if she was going to pull it off.
Chapter 27
Sawyer took the porch steps two at a time. He’d closed the store early today, wanting to share his good news with Emma Jean. Mrs. Shultz had been right, as had Emma Jean. He’d finally admitted to himself that he just couldn’t give AJ up. The boy had worked his way into Sawyer’s life, had become like a son to him.
It had hit him last night that he actually looked forward to getting home from work these days, to seeing AJ’s eyes light up in seeming recognition, to discover the almost daily changes in the boy’s development. He’d already telegraphed the detectives, instructing them to quit looking for other relatives. AJ was where he belonged.
Perhaps he’d surprise Emma Jean and Henry with a picnic to celebrate. At least he hoped they would celebrate the news. It meant she could have the job indefinitely, though they’d have to figure out a different arrangement—he didn’t intend to spend the winter sleeping on a cot in the storeroom.
But they’d figure it out.
He entered the house to find it strangely quiet. Where was everyone? He strode into the kitchen to find it empty as well. Were they in the backyard? Or out shopping maybe?
Then he saw the note on the table and quickly read it.
They’d gone to the Gilley place? Whatever for? Should he go out to meet them there? Or wait for them to return? According to the note, Emma Jean didn’t plan to be gone long.
What had prompted her to go out there anyway?
Did she miss her home? Maybe he should have given her free time to go out there if she wanted to.
What would she think of the repairs he’d made? He figured she’d bow up and get all huffily prideful about accepting charity. But he had every confidence she’d forgive him in the end. It wasn’t in her to hold a grudge for very long.
He smiled. He’d get everything pulled together for the picnic and surprise her and Henry with it when they got home.
He went to work, whistling while he found a basket and a small blanket.
He was just adding cheese and bread to the basket when he heard the door open. AJ was fussy, and he heard Emma Jean making soothing sounds, though he couldn’t understand the words. Sounded like his boy was ready for a nap.
His boy. He liked the sound of that. He couldn’t wait to tell Emma Jean that he planned to keep AJ with him after all.
“You’re just in time,” he called cheerfully over his shoulder. “I thought it would be a good day for a picnic, maybe over by Vitter’s Creek, but I’m not sure I packed enough food.”
When he didn’t get a response, he turned to find Emma Jean standing in the doorway, holding AJ and staring at him with troubled eyes. He strode across the room to stand before her. “What’s wrong? Where’s Henry? Has something happened to him?”
She handed AJ over to him. “Henry is fine. He stayed behind at the house.”
There was something wrong. He could sense a tension in her that hadn’t been there before. If it wasn’t Henry…
He took a closer look at AJ.
“There’s nothing wrong with AJ either.”
The deadness in her voice worried him. “Then explain.”
“I’m quitting my job as AJ’s nanny.”
The words hit him like a physical blow. “You’re what?”
“As of right now, I’m no longer in your employ.”
He patted AJ’s rump, trying to make sense of what she was saying. “What brought this on? If this is about the work I did around your place—”
“It’s not. In fact, I want to thank you for that.” Then her expression hardened. “Thing is, I heard from Pa today.”
At the mention of her pa, Sawyer stilled.
“It seems he finally remembered he had a family to look out for,” she continued. “He sent us some money.”
Surely she didn’t mean to keep it? “Any money he sent you belongs to the town. You know that.”
“This ain’t the money he stole, it’s money he won playing cards.”
Was she so desperate for money? Or was she more like her pa than he’d come to believe? No! He refused to accept that. “Playing cards with the money he stole. Either way, it still belongs to the town.”
Her chin came up at that. “Not the way I see it. I aim for Henry and me to use it to start fresh somewhere else.”
“That must be quite a stake he sent you.”
“Enough for a couple of train tickets and to tide us over for a few weeks until I can find work.”
“What about the work you have here, taking care of AJ?”
“You said yourself it was only temporary. I’m sure by now someone on Mrs. Martin’s list is available to take over.”
Is that what she was worried about? “AJ’s taken a liking to you. I already told Mrs. Martin I wouldn’t need a replacement after all.”
Something flickered in her expression. Regret? Longing? But it was gone quickly.
“And there’s more,” he said before she could speak again. “I’ve decided to keep AJ. I already called off the detectives.”
Her demeanor softened at that and she gave him a sweet smile, touching his arm lightly. “Oh Sawyer, I’m so happy for you. You and AJ belong together.”
Then, as if she’d suddenly remembered her plans, she dropped her hand and stepped back. “Be that as it may, my mind is made up. Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t like to leave Henry on his own for too long.”
None of what she’d said made any sense. She might have been desperate enough to take money from Clyde three weeks ago, but she and Henry were more secure now, were no longer isolated and alone. And Clyde Gilley didn’t have a generous bone in his body, family or not. Besides which, according to the detectives he’d hired, the man was practically bleeding money and didn’t have much left.
There was something else going on here, and he aimed to get to the bottom of it.
But first he had to stop her from leaving. “Just a minute.”
She turned back, her expression cautious, questioning.
“Where’s the baby buggy?”
She looked almost relieved. Did she think he would try to change her mind?
“At the foot of the porch steps. I can fetch it if you’d like.”
He nodded, wanting the few extra minutes to think.
When she returned, Sawyer laid AJ in it, then straightened and turned to her. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”
“I told you, I—”
He cut her off. “I don’t believe you.” He moved closer, capturing her gaze with his own. “I’m not sure why you’re lying to me, but I’m convinced that’s what you’re doing. I know the kind of person you are, and this is not you.” He gently caressed her upper arm. “So come on, out with it.”
She held her determined pose, though he could see it cost her. “I’m sorry you don’t believe me, but I need to go.”
He reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Whatever it is, you can trust me. I want to help.”
AJ, as if he felt the tension in the air, began to fuss.
What could make her so stubborn? Why wouldn’t she trust him?
She reached in the buggy to soothe AJ with a few comforting pats. It was when she straightened again that he saw her wrist.
“What the devil!” He grabbed her hand, staring at the purplish bruises on her wrist, obviously made by a large hand. “Who did this to you?”
Rather than answer him, she jerked her hand out of his and pulled her sleeve back down to cover the bruises.
Then all the pieces slid into place. “It’s your father, isn’t it? He’s back.”
Her expression told him he’d guessed correctly.
So Clyde Gilley had returned to his roost. After all this time. His brother’s murderer was finally within his grasp.
And the low-down, yellow-bellied sorry excuse of a man had
dared to lay a hand on Emma Jean.
Chapter 28
Emma Jean saw Sawyer’s expression change from concern to white-hot rage.
She placed a hand on his chest. “Please, you can’t go out there. He’s armed and he has Henry. If anything should happen to either of you, I—” Her voice broke on a sob.
“I won’t let anything happen to Henry, but I’m not letting you go back out there while Clyde is there. Stay with AJ and I’ll bring Henry back.”
“I know you hate him for what he did to your brother, but don’t let that hate make you do something you’ll regret.”
“I know he’s your pa, but—”
“It’s not him I’m worried about, it’s you. You don’t know what he’s capable of. If he feels trapped, there’s no telling what he might do.”
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Believe me, I’m all too aware of what that man is capable of.” He placed his hand over hers, pressing it tighter against his chest. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to Henry. Take care of AJ until I get back.”
And he turned to go, leaving her no chance to respond.
She wanted to run after him, to stand with him as he faced her pa. Staying behind, reduced to waiting to find out if her loved ones had survived the confrontation unscathed, was a bitter place to be.
By leaving AJ with her he’d taken her choice away.
Or had he?
Chapter 29
Sawyer slowed his pace while still some distance from the Gilley place—no point in giving Clyde any more warning than necessary.
This was no longer just about getting justice for Lanny. In his mind he could still see those large, angry bruises on Emma Jean’s wrist, and it made him want to growl in anger, had him straining to push forward, determined to get his hands—or fists—on Clyde Gilley. But he had to make sure he didn’t jeopardize Henry’s safety in the process.
The area in front of the house was wide open, without any cover, so it would be best if he slipped around behind the barn and moved in from the rear. But he couldn’t just rush the house, not without endangering Henry. Surely even Clyde wouldn’t do violence to his own son. But he wouldn’t put it past the brute to use the boy as a human shield.
He had to find some way to get Henry out of that house.
Sawyer moved soundlessly toward the house, flattening himself against the wall near an open window. He immediately heard Clyde’s querulous voice.
“What’s taking Emma Jean so long? I’m ready for some grub. She better not be trying to double-cross me.”
Sawyer fisted his hands. He aimed to see that the man never got near Emma Jean again.
“She wouldn’t do that.” Henry’s voice was defiant. It seemed Sawyer wasn’t the only one prepared to defend Emma Jean.
“Watch your tone, boy,” Clyde warned.
Sawyer inched closer, risking a quick glance through the window to get the lay of the land. A split second was all he dared.
Clyde was seated at the table, his chair angled to give him a clear view of the front door. His pistol lay on the table in easy reach.
Henry stood nearby, and despite his bravado, the boy looked terrified.
As Sawyer ducked back out of sight, he heard Clyde bark out another order.
“Make yourself useful and find me something to drink.”
“Yes sir.”
Sawyer’s jaw tightened as he heard the shaky, frightened tone in Henry’s voice. He had to get him away from that sorry excuse for a man.
He silently slipped around to the front of the house, positioning himself against the wall beside the front door, weighing his options. If Henry would just pass near the door, Sawyer would be ready to yank him out of there. But he was afraid the chances of that were pretty slim.
Sawyer was still trying to come up with a plan when he heard a sound he couldn’t quite identify.
Clyde let out a string of curses and there was the sound of a chair scraping back and crashing over.
Henry was apologizing, his voice dripping fear, but Clyde was yelling over him. “Of all the clumsy, worthless kids. You can’t even hold on to a water glass.”
In a flash Sawyer was through the door, but he was too late to stop the vicious backhand Clyde laid across Henry’s cheek. But Clyde was caught off guard by Sawyer’s sudden appearance and loosened his hold on Henry.
“Run Henry!” Sawyer yelled, pushing the stunned boy toward the door. And then he was barreling into Clyde, fists flying.
Clyde was the bigger, burlier of the two, but Sawyer had the advantage of youth and white-hot fury fueling him.
The fight raged back and forth, with first one man and then the other in control. Several times Clyde scrambled to get to his gun, but Sawyer always blocked him.
Sawyer himself never made a play for the weapon. He was too focused on paying the man back in kind for the injuries he’d inflicted on Henry and Emma Jean.
Chapter 30
Emma Jean ran into her front yard, then faltered at the sight of the two men locked in a vicious hand-to-hand battle.
She’d been so relieved when she saw Henry racing toward her a few minutes ago, relief that turned to concern and then anger when she saw the blood trickling from the cut on his face. She sent him to town to fetch the sheriff—now that Henry was out of harm’s way, she was ready to send in the entire Texas Rangers to get her pa out of there. Then she’d turned and raced forward again, praying Sawyer was okay.
Sawyer seemed to be giving as good as he got, but both men were bloody and panting. Her anger and fear kicked in again and she skirted around the two men, not sure they were even aware of her presence. Praying the gun was still inside where Henry had last seen it, she stepped past the drunkenly askew screen door and into the house. Not sparing a glance for the tossed and broken furnishings, she spotted the pistol and went straight to the table with single-minded purpose. Grabbing the weapon, she went back outside and fired a warning shot.
The men immediately broke away from each other and turned to her with startled expressions. Both were breathing heavily and both had obviously taken punishing blows. The sight of Sawyer’s strong, handsome face all bloodied and bruised made her want to weep, made her anger at her pa burn hotter.
As for her pa, she had no sympathy for him at all.
“Emma Jean, what are you—”
She didn’t let Sawyer finish. “Just step away from him.” Her gaze never left her pa, and she slowly lowered the pistol to aim it at his chest.
His face turned white as he took a step back.
“Don’t move,” she ordered and felt power surge through her when he halted and his sneer turned to a wary frown.
“Emma Jean, please don’t do this.” Sawyer’s voice was slightly slurred but still strong.
“Why not? He’s responsible for Ma’s death. He killed your brother. And I saw Henry a moment ago, saw what he did to him.” She clenched her jaw and tilted her chin up. “I aim to see he never lays a hand on my brother, or anyone else, ever again.”
“I’m your pa, girl. I—”
“Not another word,” she said, hating the tremor in her voice. “You are a monster. You bring nothing but pain and misery to those around you, and you know nothing of love or mercy.”
Sawyer stepped closer and she saw the limp, no doubt a result of the fight. Something else her pa needed to pay for.
“Your goal is a worthy one,” Sawyer said, “and I heartily approve. But this is not the way.”
She stiffened. “Don’t tell me you feel sorry for him.”
Sawyer took another step, swiping at the blood dripping from his nose. “No, I have nothing but contempt for him. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“You want to do this yourself, is that it? Because of what he did to Lanny?”
“I did come here intending to rip his heart out, yes. But not because of what he did to Lanny.”
Her gaze flickered to his. “What do you mean?”
“It was because of what he did to
you.”
She inhaled sharply at his words and her gaze locked on his.
He closed the distance between them and put his hand on the barrel of the gun. “Now let’s both do this the right way. Give me the pistol and find a rope so we can tie him up.”
With a snarl, Clyde took advantage of their distracted attention and launched forward, grabbing for the weapon.
Chapter 31
Sawyer took full advantage of the split-second warning he’d been given. Still holding the pistol by the barrel, he swung it with all the force of his fury and landed a blow to Clyde’s head. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Sawyer stooped down and cautiously felt for a pulse.
“Is he—” Emma Jean choked out.
Sawyer quickly straightened and took hold of her shoulders. “He’s still breathing, but he’ll be out for a while.” He studied her closely, worried by the whiteness of her face, the trembling of her body. “He can’t hurt you anymore,” he said reaching up to caress her cheek. “I promise he’ll never touch you again.” Just the thought of Clyde laying a hand on her made his gut clench.
She nodded, and then the sobs came. Sawyer pulled her to him, holding her close, stroking her hair, trying to find a way to comfort her. “Ah, darlin’,” he whispered, “that’s okay. You just let it all out. I’m right here and I ain’t going anywhere.”
It was several minutes before she finally cried herself out, but at last she stilled. He was happy to note that she didn’t immediately pull away.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against his chest. “I got your shirt all wet.”
“I don’t mind.” In fact he was quite pleased to have her in his arms. “Besides,” he said with a wry smile, “I’m afraid I’ve done much worse to yours.”
She finally pulled back slightly. “What—” Then she saw the blood. “Oh, your injuries. How could I have forgotten? I’m so sorry—”
Sawyer (Bachelors And Babies Book 6) Page 12
