by Marie Piper
Matthew ached. “You’re wrong, you know. When you say I don’t want her. There’s nothing on this earth I want more.”
“I told you to shut up. Tuck this in your sleeve.”
Hank handed Matthew a Derringer. The small gun barely filled Matthew’s palm, and he looked up at Hank in surprise, but the scoundrel was listening to the confrontation.
Matthew saw Luke’s face. It had gone pale. “It’s me you hate. Let Haven be. I’ll beg on my knees, if that’s what you want. Just let her go.”
Philip let a loud guffaw. “I lost my boy because of you. What I want is to watch while you lose your own precious child. Whether you make a move and I shoot her, or I throw her into those flames and she burns to death, don’t matter. Either way, I win. I hoped to dirty your name too, just like how you did to mine, but like a fool I put my faith in Porter. He failed me.”
Matthew felt himself pushed out of the trees as Hank grabbed him by the back of the neck, pressing the pistol to his temple.
“Did I?” Hank called loudly, an actor taking to the stage.
Matthew’s face still ached from Hank’s unexpected punch, but he knew what to do. He kept his hands up and didn’t have to work hard to pretend to be scared. The two men came out into the open together, and Matthew got close enough to see Haven’s face at last.
His heart ached at the sight of a gash across her face, blood smeared along her jaw. An expression of pure horror rose on her face when she saw Matthew was also a captive, though when her gaze went up to Hank, he saw her curiosity. She’d been foolish, of course, but Haven wasn’t stupid. She saw through the act he and Hank were pulling.
“Matthew,” Luke called. Fear bled into his voice, and Matthew wished he could clue him into what was happening too. As far as the sheriff knew, his children were both in terrible danger. He hoped the older man would stay calm and not do anything stupid.
“Goddammit, Porter!” Braxton cried in fury. “I told you not to cross us.”
“I’m not crossing you.” Hank set his cold eyes on Philip. “This is between me and the man who lied to me.”
Philip’s face twisted with rage. “You harm one hair on my boy’s head, this girl’s blood will run, and it’ll be on you.”
“Shut up,” Hank replied. “You made this mess. If anyone dies tonight, their blood is on your hands.”
“Porter,” Luke muttered. He stepped forward like he was going to shoot.
Hank whirled and fired. The sheriff grunted and hit the ground, unmoving.
“Papa!” Haven screamed. She yanked against Philip’s grip and began to sob uncontrollably, but the big man didn’t let go. Haven crumpled in his grasp.
Matthew nearly got sick as he saw Luke fall. He hadn’t expected that. Hank was either coming unhinged real fast, or a damn fine actor. He prayed it was the latter.
“Gun down, Braxton,” Hank ordered as he turned his gun on the bounty hunter. “This ain’t your fight anymore. I won’t mind killing you if I have to. Throw down your gun, and get on the ground.”
Braxton looked at Matthew, and the younger man wished he knew of some way to convey everything he knew. Still, Braxton was no fool and did as he was told.
Hank pulled the gun away from Matthew’s head and shook it toward the barn. “We’ll make a trade. You give me Haven, you can have Matthew. Easy as that. Or I’ll kill him right now, then I’ll kill you, and I’ll take her anyway.”
Philip began to walk backward slowly, dragging Haven with him even though she appeared to be mostly dead weight. She didn’t try to hide her crying, but she kept her eyes on Luke. Philip’s gun left Haven’s throat and pointed at Hank. “Don’t be an idiot, Porter.”
“I’ve got nothing to lose.”
“You hurt my son, and I will hunt you forever.”
“Not if you’re dead. I’ll take him into the fire. I’d be happy to watch him burn. Then he’d be out of my way.”
“You’re willing to die for what’s between this hussy’s legs. Good God, I thought you were a professional.”
“I won’t die. She’ll come with me to save him. She told me so.”
Matthew looked at Haven, and saw her close her eyes at Hank’s words. Had she made a deal with the scoundrel for his sake? Hank played so many cards, Matthew didn’t know what to think. If Haven had bartered for his life, it explained a lot of things. Though Matthew would never let him take her, at the moment his options were limited, and his life lay in Hank’s furious hands.
Philip moved quickly and grabbed Haven by the throat. Pressing his gun to the back of her head, he pushed her down to her knees. “Then it appears we find ourselves at an impasse, Mr. Porter. My boy ain’t marryin’ her.”
“Then make the trade, you damn fool, and we both get what we want!”
Who would move first? Matthew met Haven’s scared eyes. He saw the red mark across her face; part of it had started to bleed. The red lash marks on her skin were familiar. He’d seen them on his mother and on himself too many times. They’d come from his father’s belt. What Haven had gone through at Philip Frank’s hands made Matthew’s stomach clench in anger.
The Devil you know, thought Matthew.
He knew his father was a horrible man, evil to his core.
He didn’t know what to make of Hank, though his concern for keeping Haven alive seemed genuine. Something in the con man had attracted Haven to him, and Matthew had to believe there was a little bit of good somewhere in his rascal heart. Matthew felt somewhat certain Hank was the better man to back.
After all, before he’d pushed him out into the fray, Hank had given him a Derringer.
Granted, Hank had punched him in the face first.
Matthew felt the small gun in his sleeve.
When he looked at Haven again, she looked down to her hands, where she held a small blade. Somehow she’d managed to get hold of her knife.
The men holding the two of them had their own cards to play, but Haven and Matthew literally held tricks up their sleeves. Together, they could change the game.
A steely determination came over Haven’s pretty eyes.
Hank and Philip continued yelling at each other.
Haven and Matthew, friends for a lifetime, watched each other’s eyes and chests and began to breathe in unison. He let the barrel of the Derringer show a little bit out of his sleeve, and trusted that she’d understand what he meant to do.
Matthew gave a tiny nod, and they both leapt into action.
Haven twisted herself around and rammed the knife into Philip’s leg, then ducked to the ground to get out of the way.
Matthew aimed the Derringer at his father. His bullet sailed past Haven and landed in Philip’s thigh. The man, wounded twice in just one moment, hollered loudly and bent over.
As soon as he’d fired, Matthew elbowed Hank in the gut. “Let go of me.”
Hank cursed and shoved him, which caused Matthew to stumble forward a bit before falling in the dirt in front of Haven. Hank jumped over the both of them, landing a punch straight on Philip’s face, and then another.
Philip spun around and limped on his stabbed leg. Then he whirled around and pointed his gun straight at Hank’s chest. Matthew saw Hank’s eyes get big.
“Hank!” Haven screamed.
A shot rang out, and Haven screamed again, clenching her eyes shut as blood spattered through the air. Matthew pulled her against him, shielding her as best he could. He clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to see the carnage.
“Sweet Father Christmas! You waited long enough.”
Hank’s voice made Matthew and Haven look up. The rascal was fine, standing between them and Philip Frank. Hank wiped a little blood off his face.
Braxton still lay on the ground, but he’d gotten to his gun. His eyes were locked on the man he’d hunted for years. Philip Frank had blood seeping from a big wound on his chest. Hank hadn’t been shot.
“Papa,” Haven cried. A shaking mess of tears and blood, she struggled against the ropes that boun
d her. She looked over Matthew’s shoulder to where Luke lay. Matthew untied her. Obviously getting to her feet and moving hurt her, but she still bolted for her father’s side and rolled him over onto his back. Matthew watched.
“Haven,” Luke muttered. He held his side. “Is he dead?”
“Not yet.” She leaned down to kiss her father’s face. “I thought you were, though.”
“Not today.” His body wrenched in pain.
Matthew felt his eyes water. Haven was safe, and Luke was alive. He looked at his own father and felt nothing but rage. Philip stood swaying in the smoke, blood seeping from his legs and chest. He rubbed his jaw and took small steps closer to the flames. Unarmed and wounded, he couldn’t fight anymore. The life dripped from him slowly.
“The bastard won’t go down,” Braxton muttered, getting to his feet.
“Just shoot him again.” Hank shrugged. “I’ll do it happily, if you don’t want to.”
Braxton looked at Haven. “Luke gonna live?”
“He'd better,” Hank called. “I didn’t aim to kill him. Honest.”
“Shut the hell up,” Braxton answered.
Haven looked at her father’s wound. It was far from the worst she’d ever seen. “Yes,” she said, “he’ll live.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Haven
Her father would live.
When Haven realized she had sworn her life to Hank Porter in exchange for the lives of her loved ones, she felt overwhelming sadness. With medical care, Luke would live, and other than a bruise on his cheek, Matthew didn’t look hurt at all. Hank had kept his end of their deal.
The barn burned quickly. Clouds of smoke surrounded the group, filling their lungs and making them cough.
“The flames are getting the hay,” Matthew called. “It’ll go up fast now.”
Haven saw Philip Frank take a few fast steps toward the fire before he fell to the ground. How the man had stood that long boggled Haven’s mind.
“What the hell is he doing?” Luke raised his head a bit to see what was happening.
“Trying to end this on his own terms,” Matthew answered. He dropped the small gun he’d been holding and walked to Philip, reaching down to grab his ankles. Matthew started to pull the man away from the burning barn by the legs.
“Let the bastard burn if that’s what he wants,” Braxton said, shaking his head.
Matthew rolled his eyes and indicated the fire and the people around them. “After all this, you damn well better get that bounty. Hard to do that if he’s burned and blackened beyond recognition.”
“I’ll split it with you,” Braxton replied.
“I don’t want it,” Matthew answered.
“I don’t much care.” Braxton took hold of Philip’s arm and helped Matthew drag him a safe distance from the fire. Haven watched as Matthew stood over his dying father and dropped the pocket watch onto his chest.
Philip choked out some words. “Keep it. Remember your father.”
“You’re not my father,” Matthew answered. He looked hard into Philip’s eyes and pointed at the wounded sheriff of Cricket Bend. “Luke Anderson is. He always has been. And he’s always gonna be.”
“Anderson is dying.”
“No, he’s not,” Braxton answered.
“Porter shot him. I saw it.”
Haven called to him. “He’ll be fine once we get him to Doc.”
Braxton bent down to look Philip in the face. “You got double-crossed by your own man. See you in Hell.”
Philip hacked up blood, and exhaled his last breath. Matthew sat back in the dirt. Luke put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
Haven felt someone move behind her, and realized Hank was standing there. She saw his boots, and she looked up. Even bloodied and dirty, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, or would likely ever see. He’d saved all their lives, but she wished she could take back the bargain.
The sound of wood cracking split the silence.
“It’s going down,” Matthew stood up quickly and stepped toward the barn. “Braxton, make sure the horses are tied. They’re likely to scatter when it goes down.”
Haven slowly stood up, tearing her fingers from Luke’s hard grasp. If she was going to go with Hank as she’d promised, it would have to happen while there was the distraction of the falling barn.
“Haven,” Luke whispered as she took her hand from his.
“I love you, Papa.”
His confused eyes broke her heart. Even if she never saw him again, she would always remember the look on his face. Turning toward Hank, she nodded. “I made you a deal, and I’ll keep my end.”
Hank reached for her just as the open wounds on her back made her bend over in pain. The wretched sting of whipped skin ripped across her, and she put a hand to her mouth to muffle her cries.
Hank caught her as she buckled forward, and she leaned into his strong arms. “Haven,” he said in a voice as tender as she ever remembered.
“No,” she made herself stand up, “I’ll make it. I can live the rest of my days knowing they’ll be all right.” She glanced at Matthew. If they didn’t leave that very second, he would notice and he wouldn’t let her go without another fight, one that could be his last. “If we’re going, it has to be right now.”
Hank brushed a lock of hair off her face and made her look at him.
“Watch out!” Matthew’s voice came through the air.
A loud cracking noise followed his call, and they all looked toward the barn as it collapsed in on itself, leaving nothing but a burning pile of wood. A huge cloud of thick gray smoke billowed out, which made them unable to see.
“I’ll come back for you someday,” Hank said into her ear.
“Don’t,” Haven pleaded, “just go.”
Haven felt Hank’s lips on her cheek before his body slid past her and vanished into the gray air.
Whether he’d seen her aching sadness, or whether he realized she was too wounded to travel fast, she didn’t know. Hank simply let go of her, and Haven began to understand that he had left without her. The whole outrageous ordeal was over, every bit of it. Her life in Cricket Bend as Matthew’s wife lay before her, and it would be good.
Luke groaned a bit, and the sound brought Haven back to the reality before her. She dropped onto her father to cover him as best she could. The last thing he needed was dirt or ash in his wound to cause an infection. As the smoke faded, she worked quickly to cut off a piece of her skirt to press to his wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, coughing smoke the whole time as she worked.
The smoke cleared, and Haven's eyes burned even as things came back into focus. Before her on the ground lay her father. He kept his eyes on her, and she saw they were watery.
“Haven!”
Matthew made his way through the fading cloud and fell to his knees by her side. With no hesitation, he grabbed her and pulled her against his chest. Haven gasped a bit as his hands touched her wounded back, but she stayed against Matthew. His face was covered in soot and dirt. She wiped some away. It was a miracle all three of them were alive.
“We need to get him to Doc,” Haven said. “This bandage isn’t my best work, but it should do until we get to town. Riding is going to hurt like the dickens, Papa.”
“I have no doubt,” Luke groaned as she and Matthew helped him stand up.
“You’re lucky Porter’s a good shot.” Braxton said as he began to tie up Philip’s lifeless body.
“I don’t feel lucky. Where the hell did he go?”
“His horse is gone,” Matthew noted.
“He’s gone.” Haven looked at the burning embers of the barn and knew they could scour the ruins, the whole territory even, for months, and they’d never find a trace of Hank Porter. He was probably already on his way to Galveston, bound for New Orleans or some other grand adventure.
“Get them to Doc,” Braxton ordered Matthew.
“Can you ride?” Matthew asked Haven.
“It won’t feel good, but I can do it.” She fought back the urge to collapse from her own pain.
“I’ll deal with the body and get it back to town.” Braxton looked at Matthew. “I’ll understand if you want him buried here.”
“You take him to Nebraska and get your money. He’s no family of mine. Feed him to some pigs if you want.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Matthew
They barely arrived back at Cricket Bend before Callie came running out of the clinic as fast as her feet could carry her. Haven clung to Matthew as she rode behind him, the side of her face that hadn’t been sliced by a belt pressed against his shirt. While they rode together, she’d been unable to hold back her tears. Quietly, she cried into him. Matthew wished she’d just let go and weep. All he could do was hold onto her hands while he brought both the wounded Andersons back to Cricket Bend. Luke rode his own horse next to them, and groaned in pain with every other step his mount took.
“Philip Frank is dead,” Luke told Doc, Callie, and anyone else who could hear them. “For real and for good this time. Braxton’s bringing his body.”
Doc gingerly helped his friend off his horse. Luke grimaced in pain and held his side. “You all right, Cornelius?”
“I lost my lunch not long after you left, but I feel good as new. Who shot you?”
“Hank Porter. I hear tell I’m supposed to feel lucky about it.”
Matthew helped Haven off the horse, and no sooner had her feet touched the ground, Callie was rushing to her side. Her face paled when she saw Haven’s wounds. “Did that crazy man do that to you?”
Haven nodded. Callie threw her arms around her. “Oh, sweetheart.”
Matthew watched the gathered townspeople as the battered and bloody Haven hugged Callie with no hesitation. He saw how the woman he’d thought such bad things about moved gently and try not to cause Haven any pain. Whether he liked it or not, the two women cared about each other, and any scandal their being friends would cause didn’t matter. Rumors and gossip spread fast, and he wondered how much the good citizens of Cricket Bend already knew.
