by Lisa Harris
His shirt hung over a chair three feet away. The floor rolled beneath him, but he pushed himself off the bed anyway. Pain took over. He shoved it away. He had to find Catherine. She had no idea just how dangerous a man she was dealing with. William Marker had no conscience. And while Corbin might have lost his father to this madman, he had no intention of losing Catherine.
Catherine, with her rosy cheeks, hair the color of honey, and that sprinkle of freckles that always made him want to reach up and brush them away…
Her image gave him the extra burst of motivation he needed. He grabbed the shirt and managed to stuff his good arm into the sleeve, wincing at the stab of pain that shot across his shoulder. He clenched his teeth and worked to get his other arm into the sleeve.
Dr. Morrilton stepped into the room. He’d shed his bloodstained shirt and now wore a clean one. “Where in the world do you think you’re going?”
Corbin fumbled with a button, his injured arm still refusing to cooperate. “I’ve got a job to finish.”
“You’ve got two men dead and another one hanging on for his life. You’re not going anywhere, especially in your condition.”
Corbin pulled on his boot and ignored the searing pain in his shoulder. Thoughts of revenge pushed him on. Revenge for what had been done to his father. For what Marker had done to two of this town’s finest citizens, and for having ever involved Catherine…“I’ll be fine, because that’s exactly why I’m going. He’s not going to get away with this.”
“Then you’re a complete fool if you think you can go after the leader of that gang without getting yourself killed.”
Corbin managed the last button. Fool or not, he was going. “Miss Morgan went after the man who killed those men in the other room, and I’ve got to find her before he does the same thing to her.”
“So you love her?”
“Gonna ask her to marry me once this is over.”
The doctor cocked his head. “Something I can’t see you doing if you’re six feet under.”
Corbin steadied his feet then grabbed his hat off the dresser. “I’m going.”
“Fine. Suit yourself, but don’t blame me when your stubbornness gets you killed.”
“I’ll try to remember not to do that.”
Corbin walked out the door, feeling like an old man ready to meet his Maker.
Corbin pounded on Catherine’s door, praying he wasn’t too late. From what he’d seen, William Marker had never hesitated to put a bullet into anyone, and just because Catherine was a woman wasn’t going to make a difference. Audrey opened the door.
“Where’s Catherine?” Corbin barked as he stepped into the house.
Audrey dipped her chin. “You’re not going to like this.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Her face paled. “She rode out to the O’Conner farm to find John.”
“And you didn’t stop her?”
Audrey’s upper lip trembled. “What should I have done? I couldn’t leave Emily, but John took Lily. He thinks our father buried a stash of gold he found in Alaska.”
“And he wants it.” Corbin’s temper flared. That woman’s stubbornness was going to get her killed. “Did anyone go with her?”
Audrey nodded. “Harrison. You’ve got to help them please.”
“Where’s Grady?”
“Gone to Lancaster for the day. I wasn’t able to get a hold of him.”
“I want you to make some phone calls for me. Call the sheriff in Lancaster and explain everything that has happened.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to rescue your sister.”
Chapter Twenty-three
For the second time in a day, Catherine set off with the intent to put a stop to John Guild. But this time she wasn’t going to let him slip through her hands. Her stomach felt like a pile of knotted rope as she rode beside Harrison, but she refused to give in to the fear swirling around her. She’d heard the rumors of women fighting beside male soldiers in the War Between the States and risking their lives on daring spy missions for Pinkertons. Her breath quickened as they approached the O’Conner ranch under the cover of a grove of trees. If they could do it, she could do it.
She saw him the moment they reached the slight crest overlooking the ranch. John stood facing away from them beneath the shade of the barn that the good townspeople of Revenge had built two summers ago after a fire tore through the original building. With shovel in hand, he was digging a hole on the east side of the barn. Catherine scanned the adjoining area, still hidden in the thicket of trees.
Where was Lily?
With no time to dwell on the possibilities, she nodded at Harrison, who quickly rounded the far side of the barn and slipped from view. Their plan was simple, but far from foolproof. Harrison had balked at her idea at first, but she’d insisted that she needed to be the one to approach John. He’d be more likely to believe she’d followed on her own, and hopefully less likely to shoot her—a woman—in cold blood.
Or so she hoped. The absence of Lily punched a slight hole in her theory. She knew John wasn’t known for leaving witnesses alive, and just because they’d all been of the male persuasion so far didn’t mean he’d hesitate to pull a trigger just because his target wore skirts.
Catherine shuddered. If he’d done anything to her sister, a shot in the heart was the least he deserved.
She dismounted from her mare five yards from John and got straight to the point. “Where’s my sister?”
John kept digging, apparently not surprised by her arrival.
She took a step forward. “I said, where is my sister?”
John reached for his gun, but she already had hers drawn and aimed at his heart. Not seeing the threat as viable, he again reached for his weapon. Catherine lowered her gun, aimed, and fired.
The bullet missed his left foot by an inch.
John jumped backward. “Now slow down. Your firing that gun is only going to get one of us killed.”
“Then you can be assured that it won’t be this part of us. One of the few things my father did for me was to teach me how to shoot. I can hit the bull’s eye of a target at a hundred yards, which means I just missed on purpose. Next time, don’t expect to be quite so lucky.”
John dropped his gun back into his holster.
Catherine took a step closer. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
He raised them up again, clearly irritated. “Okay, so you’ve made your point, but what now? You know that in the end your little plan won’t work. I’ll still ride away with the money I find, because I always win.”
“Oh, really? I’m afraid your lucky streak has just ended. Now, I tried to ask nicely before, and you didn’t answer. I’m going to ask one more time. Where is my sister?”
John held his hands high. “Lily was right. You really are stubborn. What do you think is going to come of this little…skirmish?”
“You’re going to tell me where my sister is, and then I’m going to escort you to the sheriff.”
“Just like that?”
Catherine willed her hand to hold steady. “Since I’m the one with the gun aimed at your heart, yes. Just like that.”
“And how many people do you think have already tried to do that? Local sheriffs, Pinkerton agents, even a couple of Texas Rangers down south.”
“Then it is high time you were brought in, isn’t it?”
John leaned against the shovel and laughed. “You know, you’re not near as smart as you think you are.”
“Think again. I want you to slide your gun to me, followed by the shovel.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’d say she’s completely serious.” Harrison stepped from behind the barn, with his gun aimed straight at John. “If I were you, I’d do exactly what the lady says. Unless, of course, you’d rather find yourself in the nearest cemetery instead of jail.”
John scowled.
Catherine willed her fingers steady. There was
only one thing she was concerned about. He could have the money from today’s robbery, as well as whatever gold her father had stashed away. She didn’t care about that. Lily was the only thing she could think about at the moment.
“Now, I’m going to ask my question one more time, and if I don’t get the right answer, I’m going to start shooting again. And this time I don’t intend to miss. Where is Lily?”
“I figured you’d do something stupid and come here, though I didn’t intend on your partner in crime showing up.”
Catherine pressed her lips together. She’d have shot him dead by now, if it weren’t for the fact he knew where Lily was, and she wasn’t going to take any chances with her sister’s life.
“Like I said, I figured you might show up and I might need some insurance.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll give you some credit. You’ve got a gun trained on me, and I’m weaponless. But I know how much you love your sister. The problem is, I’m the only one who knows where she is right now, and without my leading you to her, I’m afraid…how shall I say it? I’m afraid there could be serious consequences for her if anything happens to me, so put the gun down—”
“I don’t believe you.” Catherine fired again, hitting his right foot this time.
John yelped and grabbed his foot. “Now you listen to me—”
“No, you listen to me.” Catherine fought the urge to simply shoot John Guild. She’d seen the posters and knew that he was wanted dead or alive, so what did it matter if she was the one to kill him? No court of law would prosecute her. In fact, it would likely be a headline story about how a woman took down the leader of the Masked Gang.
“So what happens next?” he asked.
Catherine forced her brain to look logically at the situation. This was a game to John, which meant it was no different than a row of accounting numbers with a solvable equation. John couldn’t have arrived much before she did, which meant that Lily couldn’t be far. Keeping her gun trained on John, she scanned the surrounding farm and calcuated the possibilities. Lily hand to be here on the property. In the house, or the barn…
Catherine felt her heart stop as another option surfaced. What if John Guild were only bluffing—because he’d done the unthinkable?
Corbin approached the outskirts of the O’Conner property with caution. How many times had he told Catherine to let him handle things, and she’d insisted on taking things into her own hands? This time she’d gone too far. No matter what John Guild had done to her father, it wasn’t worth risking her life. But if she wasn’t careful, she was going to get herself killed.
The pain in his shoulder throbbed with every jolt on the back of his horse, but he gritted his teeth and picked up the pace, despite the pain. The bottom line was—all this was his fault. If he’d figured out who John Guild was sooner, it never would have gotten to the point where Catherine was forced to chase down a murderer to save her sister.
A gunshot rang out in the distance. Corbin pulled on the reins and dismounted near the house, trying to determine where the shot had come from. The afternoon air was still. Too still. An ostrich cried out in the distance. Strange. Where were Milena and the farmhands? And most importantly, where was Catherine? Tying the horse to the porch rail, Corbin eased his gun from its holster and made a quick search of the area surrounding the house.
Nothing.
Something crashed from inside. Catherine? Lily? He took the porch stairs two at a time, ignoring the sharp pain radiating through his body, and rushed through the front door, uncertain of what he would find. William Marker wasn’t the kind of man to leave anyone alive who stood in his way.
Lily and Milena sat on the living room floor, hands tied behind them, with handkerchiefs stuffed in their mouths and a broken lamp at Lily’s feet.
He ripped out their gags then quickly checked them for injuries. “What happened?”
“I managed to knock off the lamp, hoping someone would hear.” Lily shook her head and started crying. “It was all a lie. He told me he loved me—”
Corbin grasped her by the shoulders. “Lily, I need you to focus. Where’s Catherine? She came to get you.”
Lily’s chest heaved. “I heard a gunshot.”
“So did I.”
She pointed out the window. “I think it came from the other side of the barn. I told him that my father had buried his treasure there.”
Corbin set his hands on his hips. Catherine hadn’t said anything about a treasure. “A treasure?”
“I made it up.” She started sobbing again. “I knew that the only way to keep my sisters safe was to get John out of the house.”
“She’s here now, trying to find you,” he started.
“The gunshot…”
They’d both reached the same conclusion. “Milena, lock the doors and stay here with Lily. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Hopefully, the locked doors would buy them time if John came here next.
Corbin hurried outside. The blues and greens of the surrounding farmland began to spin. He squinted and tried to shake off the nausea raking his body. Catherine knew how to shoot, but the odds of her surviving a confrontation with John were slim. And if Catherine was dead he’d never forgive himself. Or John Guild. He’d hang the man himself.
He ran toward the barn, arm throbbing, and pondered the same question he’d been asking himself for weeks. How were his actions any different than his father’s killer? Hatred, revenge, and unforgiveness had blinded him, and in the process he’d put at risk the life of the woman he loved.
Which made him wonder what else he was capable of doing.
He’d been so caught up with his agenda to avenge his father’s death, he hadn’t bothered to stop and think who else might be hurt in the process. Or whose lives might be put at risk.
What kind of man had he become?
He rounded the corner of the barn, fearful of what he was going to find. Catherine held a rifle pointed at John’s head.
She flinched at the sight of him. “Corbin?”
Corbin froze. “I thought…I heard the shot and was afraid you were dead.”
“No, I’m fine.” Catherine’s lip twitched, but she held her gun steady. “I was just about to shoot him again.”
“Again?”
“Trust me, he’ll live. For now. The problem is that he won’t tell me where Lily is.”
Corbin didn’t try to hide the relief that washed through him. “Lily’s fine, and if I were you, Mr. Guild, I wouldn’t mess around with this woman. She learned to shoot when she was barely as tall as the rifle she’s aiming at you. Her father taught her well.”
John flung his hat to the ground, showing where the bullet had gone clean through his boot. “I’d say she’s plumb crazy.”
Corbin pulled out his handcuffs. “Say what you like, but you’re under arrest for the murders of Charles Hunter, eight innocent bystanders, and Isaiah Morgan.” He turned to Catherine. “You can put the gun down now, Catherine. It’s over.”
Corbin signed the form then pushed it back across his desk. “I appreciate your coming so quickly.”
“I’m just as happy to take William Marker off your hands.” Brad Sanders grinned. “We’ve put too many man-hours into this case to let him slip through our fingers again. As soon as I can get some information from him, he’ll be looking at a swift hanging.”
Corbin leaned back in his chair and let out a long, slow sigh. “We found some of the bank money beneath the floorboards where he’d been living.”
“Well done.”
Corbin brushed aside the compliment. “What about the other matter we talked about?”
“I’ve got one of my best men standing outside and ready to stand in until Sheriff Lansing is ready to resume his duties. That is if you’re sure that’s what you want.”
“I’m sure.” Corbin pulled off the badge from his vest and handed it over, knowing what he had to do. He’d put far too many people’s lives in jeopardy
and in the process become someone he didn’t know anymore. “I don’t have time to hang around. There is still one of the gang members out there, and I plan to bring him to justice.”
“So does this mean you’re leaving town for good?” Sanders asked.
“Rumor has it they’re headed for Texas.” He shoved Catherine’s image aside as he grabbed his hat off the desk. She’d forget all about him again, once he was gone. Just like the last time. “I’ve done all I can do here.”
“Suit yourself, though I think I’d like one of these quiet towns where there’s not much more to do than watch the corn grow in the summer and the snow fall in the winter.”
“After all that’s happened in the past couple of weeks, that would be appealing.”
But not here. He still had a job to finish.
Corbin nodded his thanks and then headed outside. He gave the main street of town one final look then rode off, leaving Revenge behind forever.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Corbin Hunter’s coming back, you know. As soon as he catches the rest of the gang.”
Catherine looked up at Emily from her needlework and shook her head. Isaiah Morgan O’Conner, with his tuft of red hair, lay in his mother’s arms sleeping peacefully. The sweet baby was the one good thing that had come of the past few weeks.
“I wasn’t enough to hold him here before, and nothing has changed this time. It’s something I have to accept.”
Life had swept through like a whirlwind and dumped a handful of heartache on the Morgan sisters, and none of them had emerged unscathed. The sudden death of their father was still a constant reminder of all they had missed. For Catherine, the pain emerged late at night or in odd hours of the day when something reminded her of a moment she’d spent with him, reassuring her that there had been good times bundled up with the bad times. Corbin had become simply one more tragic memory she needed to put behind her.
Catherine glanced at Audrey and Lily’s neat stitches and compared them to her own uneven row. Emily had insisted that the handwork would get their minds off everything, but all it had managed to do was remind her why she hated the monotonous work—and that no amount of stitches could erase what had happened.
