Frankie kept her gaze locked with Phoebe until the life extinguished from her beautiful blue eyes. She was aware of everyone’s eyes on her, watching and waiting like a murder of crows awaiting carrion.
John put his hand at her back. “Is she gone?”
“Yes, she is gone.”
He sighed, long and hard. “Shit. Poor thing. I’ll get the boys started on building coffins. There’s a family cemetery just beyond the house. I’m sure he’d want them buried beside his wife.” His voice was husky with emotion and regret.
“I am sorry, John. So sorry.” She met his gaze. “I did not mean for this to happen.”
John kissed her forehead. “It was like a stick of dynamite with a long fuse, burning for a while but bound to explode eventually. Fuller ignored it for too long. You have no blame in this.”
“I provoked her.” Frankie cried harder, tears streaming down her cheeks to land in the bloody mess of a young girl in her arms. The dog sat beside her, his eyes full of sorrow. Her heart ached for all she had seen, and her role in the Gates’ deaths.
“You tried to save us, there’s no shame in that. I was going to do something to make Fuller admit she had a problem, but you did it before me.” He rubbed her back with his big hand. “After Elias gets back with the doctor, we can get her cleaned up so we can bury them proper. Will you help me?”
Although Frankie wanted to sit there feeling sorry for herself and weep for the tragedy she’d witnessed, she wasn’t one to allow self-pity for long. Life was precious, a gift not to be squandered. She would honor them by cleaning them for burial and dressing them in their Sunday best. No matter how they died, the Gates family deserved honor and respect.
“Yes, I will. Can you take her?”
John kissed her forehead and whispered, “J’taime, cherie.”
It wasn’t the ideal time for it, but he had just admitted he loved her. Frankie wanted to start crying again. If nothing else came of the day of blood and loss, they had their love. That, for now, would have to sustain her.
Chapter Nine
“I suppose I ought to let you go.” Sheriff Everett stared as John dug graves beside several of the ranch hands. The doctor had come and gone, after helping to stitch up the Gates for viewing. Frankie was left in charge of washing them for burial while the men prepared their final resting place. It was a dark day and made even darker by the bastard sheriff who scuttled around like a cockroach.
“I told you I was innocent. Now you have a dying man’s confession.” John wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “He was protecting his daughter, nothing more.”
“You still owe me for the damage to the jail. I am going to bring you in for that if I can’t get you for murder. I’ve got five men who will haul your ass in whole or broken.” Everett, the lousy son of a bitch, was single-minded.
“How much?” John plunged the shovel into the ground and put his hands on his hips to face the bastard. “How much to pay for the damage?”
There were a few ways his offer could have gone, but he had to try to bribe the man. He was the last thing standing between freedom and a life on the run from a loco sheriff and his foolish posse.
“Well now, you pulled down both iron bars, so we’ll need to rebuild the walls back there with sod, which is hard work.” Everett stroked his jaw, his gaze sharp and intelligent. The man was far more dangerous than others because he wasn’t stupid. Far from it.
“Enough of this shit. Tell me how much for you to leave and never come back.” John held his temper with every ounce of self-control. The other men had stopped digging to watch the conversation, which was fine with John. The more witnesses he had to the deal the better.
“Two hundred dollars.”
The sum was enormous. More than that, it was nearly everything he had saved to start his ranch. It would leave him penniless and throw his future into a deep, dark hole. His stomach heaved.
“That’s a fortune.”
“Spending your days in a jail costs more.” Everett smiled, full of nothing but avarice and greed.
John wanted to punch him until he stopped being a jackass. Unfortunately, John would have to kill him to make that happen. A bad notion for a man who was trying to rid himself of a murder charge.
“If I give you two hundred dollars, you will sign a paper releasing all of us from any charges, including the damages, murder charge and bounty. And I mean all of us—me, Frankie Chastain and Declan Callahan. All of us.” John’s heart cracked at the thought he was going to give up his dream. He told himself it was temporary, that he could start saving money again, but he knew it was more than temporary. It had taken a lot of blood, sweat and tears to earn that much. Finding the wherewithal to begin again would be difficult, if not impossible.
“I can agree to that. I’ll give you a day to bury your, ah, friend, then I expect the money. I’ll have the paper written up so’s you can sign it.” Everett touched the brim of his hat and walked away, John’s dreams trampled beneath the heels of his pointy-toed boots.
John wanted to puke.
“That man is a jackass,” Elias offered. The foreman was someone who could recognize his own kind. “I wouldn’t give him a red cent, Malloy. What did you do, anyway?”
“It’s not important. But I can’t afford not to pay him. I’ve got to get Frankie back to her family.” He dug the shovel into the soil with his pent-up rage.
“Isn’t she your wife?”
The question knocked John a bit sideways. “Of course she is, but her family is on that wagon train. She was taken—oh hell, it’s a long story. We need to make it back to the wagon train, no matter what.”
And he would need the pay from Buck for this trip, that was a certainty.
Elias shrugged one big shoulder. “Suit yourself. If Fuller were here, he’d kick that piece of shit off his property. Nothing worse than a dirty man of the law.”
The mention of Fuller made things worse. John had made his peace with his former boss and friend, but if he hadn’t come to the ranch, the other man wouldn’t be dead. Neither would his sixteen-year-old daughter. John wanted to give the man the respect and dignity he deserved, not more violence because he didn’t want to give into blackmail. No, he would pay Everett, get the signed document, then use whatever he had left to buy a horse and gear for Frankie.
It was almost time to leave his past behind. This time for good.
Frankie did an amazing job of cleaning up Fuller and Phoebe and dressing them for viewing and burial. It was a solemn group that carried the coffins in the house. The ranch hands lowered the bodies gently and reverently into the pine boxes. After only five minutes of viewing, Elias took over and sealed them up. It was the right thing to do—no one wanted to see the two who were alive twelve hours earlier, now dead in a bloody end they couldn’t have predicted. Elias nailed the coffins closed, then the men carried them back out of the house to the waiting wagon.
John took Frankie’s hand, her eyes wide and solemn. She stood by his side and followed the procession back to the family cemetery, the dog on their heels. There was no preacher available out in the wilds of Kansas to say words over their bodies, as the one in town had passed away and not been replaced. Instead, each man in turn spoke, telling a story, some funny and some harrowing. It was a tribute to Fuller Gates, the man he was, not the wrong choices he’d made.
When it was John’s turn, he could not think of what to say. An awkward silence made his gut squeeze so hard, he tasted yesterday’s supper. Then Frankie spoke.
“Fuller Gates changed John’s life. He gave him the chance to prove himself as a man. More than that, he gave him a home.”
She’d unknotted his tongue with her simple speech, giving him the chance to dig deep and find the words that had been hiding. To his surprise, the dog snuggled up next to him, lending John his support. He might have to like that mutt after all.
“When I got here on the Gates ranch, I was an obnoxious son of a bitch.” A few of the ranch hands chuckled and
Elias nodded. “I knew everything there was to know about everything. Stood on a tower twelve feet high, looking down on life. Fuller knocked me off that tower and kicked some sense into my thick head.”
A few more chuckles and nods.
“I’d spent my life trying to prove I was worth something to a man who didn’t care, a man who fathered me but was never an actual father to me. Until I met Fuller, I didn’t know what being a father was. He might have kicked my ass six ways to Sunday, but he taught me how to be a man.” John’s throat tightened up and he had to swallow twice to speak again. “I don’t know who I’d be if I hadn’t met Fuller. He changed my life and my future. I’m sorry this happened to him, he didn’t deserve any of it and neither did Phoebe. Sometimes God ain’t fair and I surely hope Fuller’s up there kicking some ass in heaven.”
The men were quiet as John’s words faded into the quiet blue sky above them. No one, it seemed, had anything to say for Phoebe. The awkward silence stretched on until Frankie, once again, showed what an incredible woman she was.
“Phoebe Gates did not have much of a chance at life. She lost her mother too early and life kept throwing obstacles in her path. Her father loved her more than anything. All of us could only hope for a love so deep. I hope the angels in heaven took her in their wings and she has found the peace she could not find on earth.” Frankie didn’t know the girl, but her eulogy had the ring of truth to it. The men all nodded to her, accepting the wish for their own. Phoebe had been an unfortunate soul, a girl who would never be more than she was.
“Let’s get these folks proper in the ground, fellas.” Elias directed the hands to fill in the graves.
John could not watch. After all he’d seen, he could not bear witness to the dirt thrown on the man who changed his life. Frankie held onto his arm and the dog stayed by his side as they walked back to the house. It was time to pay the good sheriff to get out of his life.
The afternoon air was stale and still, as though the earth had stopped turning, mourning the loss of two souls. John certainly felt the weight of the day’s events on his shoulders. He was glad Frankie was there. More than he would admit to her.
“What did the sheriff say to you?” she seemed to know what he was thinking.
“He wants two hundred dollars to disappear and never come back. Otherwise he’ll arrest us for destroying his jail.” The whole idea of paying the son of a bitch left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Merde! That is blackmail.” Her mouth tightened. “He should be fired from his job or better yet, go to jail himself.”
“I don’t care a damn thing about him but I do care about getting you back to your family and shaking off the nightmare of the last few days.” He tried not to think about the loss of his savings. Frankie and her freedom were more important than hanging onto the funds.
“Are you going to pay him?”
“Yes.”
“Dammit, what are you thinking? He will take your money, then arrest you. That man cannot be trusted at all.” She sounded so fierce, like a female lion protecting her mate. Gave him a little shiver of pride since he knew she was protecting him. Besides that she’d cursed because of it. Double shiver.
“Don’t worry. He’s going to sign a paper releasing us of any charges. I’m going to have him do it in front of half the ranch. Then I’m going to ask Elias to escort the man off the property.” He put his arm around his shoulders. “Since it’s nearly evening, I was thinking we should spend the night here. Haven’t slept in a bed in a long time. A real bath might be nice, too. I’m sure Fuller would want us to stay.”
Her face lit up. “A bath? After using cold streams and buckets of water for months, a real bath would be magnifique.” She lapsed into a thicker accent, and when she spoke French, John’s entire body reacted like she’d reached out and grabbed his dick.
Maybe sleeping in a house with beds wasn’t such a wise idea. They might not sleep at all.
The day had sapped Frankie’s strength. Her eyes burned with exhaustion, but she kept it from John. He stood beside the table, his arms crossed over his powerful chest, wearing a scowl deep enough to leave a dent in his forehead. Sheriff Everett was about to walk away with John’s money. It was a fortune, more than she realized he had.
The faux lawman signed the paper absolving them of charges, under the watchful eyes of half a dozen ranch hands. He rose, took the bag of golden eagles, the coins clinking merrily as John’s money walked out the door clutched in the dirty hands of a dirty man. She wanted to shoot him.
“Now you gonna tell me what the hell that bribe was about?” Elias cocked one brow, the gravel-voiced foreman had a right to be suspicious.
“Frankie and I did some, uh, remodeling in his jailhouse when we broke out. He didn’t appreciate it. He was going to haul us back there if we didn’t pay for it.” John’s voice was tighter than she’d ever heard before. “The paper says he won’t come after us for the murder charge or the damage. I need to get my wife back to her family.”
He met her gaze and she saw the honor deeply ingrained in his soul. John Malloy was a good man. More than that, he was a good person. At that very moment, time stopped for her and her heart thundered hard and fast. She would love him always. For good. Forever. He had given up everything for her, because he knew her family was more important to her than anything.
Wouldn’t he be surprised to find out that was no longer true?
Frankie loved her family dearly, and always would. If she was honest with herself though, John had taken over first in her heart. It shocked her and she trembled from the power of the thought. He was more important than anything and anybody.
She stared at him, went over the rugged lines of his face, the strong jaw and the day’s whiskers. His deep blue eyes were set by eyebrows slightly darker than his chestnut brown hair. His shoulders were broad and muscled, tapering to a lean waist and hips. He was perfectly made and he was hers. A fierce protectiveness rose up within her.
“We need to turn him into the marshals for what he has done.” She warmed to the idea quickly. “He is a crooked lawman and does not deserve a badge.”
John chuckled and pulled her under his arm. His body heat surrounded her and she found herself leaning into him. “I’d rather forget about him and ride west.”
“Without your money.” She frowned at him, confused by his refusal to right a wrong. “You should not have given it to him.”
He stepped away and scowled. “You need to let this go, Frankie. It was my choice and I made it.”
The warm feeling she had looking at him began to fade. He was still arrogant, no matter if she was in love with him or not. “You should have told me before you made that choice.”
“No, I shouldn’t have. It was my money.”
The air grew thick with tension as the two of them squared off. Doing battle with him was familiar, and it actually eased the churning in her stomach. Who knew that fighting with the man was what she needed?
“I, uh, think we’ll just step out and let you two settle this.” Elias tipped his hat to her and the six ranch hands filed out of the room, murmuring to each other. Most of them shot glances at her from beneath their hats.
She didn’t give a fig for what they thought. In the morning, she would be on her way and she would never see them again. John watched her as they left, his gaze narrowed.
“Do not you dare look at me like that, John Malloy. We are in this together, you and I, and you cannot make decisions without me or keep secrets from me.” She pointed at him, lecturing as she would her younger sisters. “I will not be ignored or dismissed because you think it is your choice.”
“You might think you can order me around, but you can’t.” He snatched her finger with his big hand. “There’s no gun on this hand anymore—you can’t shoot me and you sure as hell can’t force me.”
Frankie managed not to gasp, but it was difficult. There was no use letting the man know how affected she was by him. She was small compared to him, but
that didn’t mean she was powerless. A woman always had power over a man. She wasn’t a practiced flirt, but she could do her best with the measly skills she had.
She put her hands on her hips and thrust out her chest. His gaze dropped to her breasts, and a thrill of feminine pride trickled through her. She sauntered toward him, swinging her hips and doing her best to appear seductive.
She hoped it was working.
“What are you doing?” His brows drew together.
“I am taking you up on the offer of a bath and a real bed. I need to take off all these clothes and wash them.” She licked her lips. “And me.”
Before she could react, he’d pulled her flush against him and his mouth fused with hers. She melted into a boneless heap of want as the familiar heat between them sparked to a roaring blaze. Her nipples ached, pressed against his chest, and a low throb began deep in her belly. Much to her surprise, his kisses aroused her to a fever in seconds. She never thought she would ever want a man, least of all so quickly and simply. Loving him had shown her what two people could have and she wanted it, every day for the rest of her life.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with everything that was in her heart. Until now, they had only touched each other, kissed and found pleasure in those simple things. This would take them far beyond that into a joining. She hadn’t expected to find a man she wanted to give herself to.
John Malloy changed all that.
Her heart was engaged, fully, completely. That meant her body and soul were too. Simply being in his arms was enough to send waves of heat through her, shimmers of passion raced down her skin. She needed more. Much more.
“Where is the bedroom?” she murmured around his kisses.
“Huh?”
“The bedroom?” Her voice was breathy with need.
“Oh, hell, the bedroom.” He scooped her up in his arms and walked toward the back of the house.
She quite enjoyed the sensation of being carried. It wasn’t an experience she could claim before now. He made her feel very feminine, made her want to preen from the masculine attention.
The Fortune Page 15
