The Shepherd's Heart Series: A Boxed Set Book Bundle Collection Volumes 1-4

by Lynnette Bonner

  The fact that Hunter did not expect him to come in from above would work to his advantage, but only for a moment. Sky hoped he would only need a moment.

  He had one other trick up his sleeve that he prayed would buy him some time.

  Removing his buckskin shirt he silently placed it over a forked branch he had selected. He added his black hat at the neck, jamming it down onto the branches so that it would stay in place. Lashing the crude dummy to the saddle he stepped back, eyeing his creation. It didn’t look anything like a person, but he hoped it would serve to make Hunter take a second look and buy him a few more precious seconds.

  Sky wrapped Geyser’s hooves with some strips of cloth he kept in his saddle bags for just such a purpose, so they would make no noise as he moved across the rocky surface. Many times Sky had been alerted to the approach of someone by the soft click of a horse’s hooves on a small stone and he didn’t want to give Percival that same advantage. Leading the horse so that he stood just above and to the right of the mine entrance, Sky left him there, reins wrapped around the pommel, praying he would make no sound until he himself could get into place.

  Pulling his pistol from the holster he checked the rounds, then crept stealthily toward the other side of the entry.

  When he was in place, he picked up a good size stone and weighed it in his hand, judging the distance between himself and Geyser. Glancing again at the path he would have to travel to get to the entrance of the mine, he memorized every twist, turn, and rock on the way.

  Then suddenly he heard the report of a small pistol from inside the mine! Spinning, he threw the rock in his hand at the haunch of the black with great force, letting out a piercing whistle.

  The stone hit the exact spot he had aimed for and the horse, surprised by the loud noises and the stinging pain, lunged forward, heading down the hill at a gallop.

  Sky launched into motion at the same moment, heading on swift silent feet toward the mine, praying that Brooke was alive.

  Jason went first to Chang’s Mercantile and entered the front door. The bell overhead clanged as the door hit it.

  Jenny came out of the back room carrying an empty box, her face red and swollen from crying.

  Jason cleared his throat. For the first time in years he wished that he had stopped to wash up before paying a call. It didn’t seem right, somehow, that he stood here, looking like he did in his dirty clothes and shaggy hair, about to inform a woman that her husband had been murdered.

  Quickly removing his hat, he ran a hand back through his hair and then stepped forward. “Ma’am, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Jenny set the box down on the counter in front of her. Jason could see the light of knowledge in her eyes but no fresh tears came.

  “I’ve just come from the trail leading out of town. I’m sorry to have to tell you, but your husband and all the prisoners with him have been killed.”

  “How?” she questioned, flatly.

  He cleared his throat. “They were hung, ma’am.”

  “You do it, Mistah Jordan?”

  Jason blinked. He deserved that. Everyone in town knew he hated Lee Chang. Sorrowful conviction engulfed his heart. His past actions and hatred would bring the suspicion of many down on his head for this crime. “Ma’am, I have treated your husband very poorly in the past. I’ve held a grudge against him for something that happened to my mother many years ago, and it was wrong. I came to see that a short time ago and, although I don’t expect you to believe this, I rode after him to tell him that I’ve forgiven him for the part he had in my mother’s death. I did not...” He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence as his throat clogged with emotion. “No.” He answered her question directly.

  “I sorry, Mistah Jordan.” She shook her head. “I should not ask like that. I know it not you.”

  He twisted his hat around by the rim. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry for the way I felt about your husband. I want you to know that. I only wish I had gotten the chance to tell him.”

  She nodded. Her face crumpled as tears began to run down her cheeks. Jason stepped toward her, guiding her by the elbow to a chair. “I really need to go inform the others so we can try to figure out what happened. Will you be all right here alone?” She nodded again.

  “All right. We’ll let you know the minute we find out anything.” He pushed his hat back onto his head and stepped outside, heading toward the jail to break the news.

  The reverberation of the pistol shot still echoed off the walls of the cavern when Brooke heard the piercing whistle from outside.

  Percival, who had lunged toward her, cursed and suddenly changed course. He snatched up his shotgun and lurched out the mine entrance into the bright sunlight. Turning to the right, he raised the scatter gun and fired. “Got him!” he yelled with glee.

  Heart constricting, Brooke scrabbled for the .22 with shaking hands. She sat up, leaning back against the wall of the cave. So thirsty! She licked her dry lips. Closing her eyes for a second as a wave of exhaustion washed over her, she leaned her head back. It had to be Sky. He’d been coming to rescue her. Percival had just killed Sky. She blinked, tears coursing down her cheeks, and stretched the gun out at arm’s length in the direction of the light. Waiting for Percival to come back in, she prayed that God would forgive her for what she was about to do. This time she would not be aiming for his legs!

  The gun wavered and the images in her line of vision doubled. She blinked again, trying to focus, knowing she didn’t have enough strength to hold on for long.

  She saw Percival lower the gun and heard him exclaim, “What the—!?” as he stared off down the hill.

  Suddenly he spun and threw up an arm as someone leaped upon him. Brooke’s vision blurred. Who was out there?

  Shoving the end of the shotgun aside, the newcomer slammed a large fist into Percival’s face, knocking the smaller man onto his back. Percival did not move. Yanking the shotgun from his grasp, Percival’s assailant carried it with him into the cave.

  Brooke raised the wavering gun a little higher. Whoever he was, she wouldn’t be going with him.

  “Don’t move, Mister, or I will shoot!” She tried to sound authoritative, but the words rasped in her throat.

  He chuckled. “Well, that’s some greeting for the man who just rescued you,” he said in an affectionate tone.

  She lifted one hand to shade her eyes, squinting against the light streaming in from behind him. It couldn’t be him. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. She cocked the hammer.

  “Brooke, honey, it’s me.” Sky stepped toward her and she tried to focus on his face. Kneeling down, he removed the gun from her shaking hands, released the hammer, and laid it on the ground. He stroked her cheek tenderly. “I didn’t know what a monster I was creating when I taught you to use that gun.”

  Running her tongue over dried lips, Brooke pulled back, desperately trying to make out his features. Percival had just killed him, hadn’t he? She swiped at the tears running down her face, trying to clear her vision.

  Carefully, he eased his hands under her knees and behind her back. “Come on, Mrs. Jordan, let’s get you outside.”

  A sob escaped Brooke’s throat and she raised one hand to her mouth. It was him! It was really him! Only he could say those words in such an endearing manner. “I thought he killed you. I heard him say...he said...”

  “Shhh,” Sky shushed her, “it’s all right, honey. I’m here now. It’s all right.”

  Sky tried to keep all concern from his voice and the conversation light as he addressed Brooke, lifting her gently and carrying her outside into the sunlight.

  She passed out almost the moment he picked her up. He knew she had to be exhausted from her loss of blood and the stress of the last two days.

  The first sight of her had sent his heart plummeting in his chest, but not until he got her into the light did he see the true extent of her injuries. His fear for her life blazed anew.

  Gingerly, he laid her on the
ground, easing her head down and wishing he had his shirt to pillow her head. The wound on her forehead had begun to bleed again, and he knew she couldn’t stand any more blood loss.

  Grabbing his knife, he sliced a long strip of material from her petticoat and used it to clean the dirt away from the nasty cut. Cutting another strip he wound it firmly around her head, knowing that the pressure would stop the bleeding.

  Standing, he turned toward the cave to see if there might be any water there. Something tugged at the muscle just below his shoulder. He frowned, looking down even as he heard the report of a derringer. He took an involuntary step backwards. A puncture wound oozed blood and briefly bewildered him, but almost instantly he knew his mistake. Dropping to one knee he lunged to his right.

  The action saved his life. He felt the whip of a second bullet flying past his head and then he crouched down and ran.

  How could he have made such a critical mistake? In his hurry to make sure Brooke was all right he had not checked Percival for any more weapons, nor bothered to restrain him, and now he was conscious and armed.

  The bare hillside provided no cover. Sky sprinted in a crouched position, zigzagging to make it harder for Percival’s aim to find its mark and to give himself a few seconds. Palming his Colt even as he ran, he spun toward Percival and launched himself into a back-flip. His legs framed Hunter’s form for a split second, and Sky fired. He landed painfully on his shoulder blades but used his momentum to push himself over in a reverse somersault and come up on his knees, his gun extended in case he needed to fire again.

  Sky’s bullet knocked the derringer out of Percival’s grip and he screamed in pain, spinning around and shaking his wounded hand. Then, unexpectedly, his body jerked again and he fell over backwards, staring lifelessly at the sky.

  Sky blinked, looking long and hard at the man. Though Sky had only fired once, Percival had been shot through the heart.

  Suddenly weakness washed over him and searing shards of fire flashed through his body. Sky looked down. Blood seeped from the bullet hole in his shoulder and soaked his chest and pants. His shoulder pulsated in a spasm of pure agony and every movement he made sliced a dagger of pain through his body.

  Holstering his gun, he moved forward awkwardly on one hand and his knees, favoring the injured arm. This time he took no chances, even though he could clearly see the man was dead. Pulling the derringer away from the body, he patted Percival down, checking for any more weapons. He found none.

  Sitting down, he reloaded the spent chamber in his six-shooter. He did not know who had killed Percival, but he didn’t want to take any chances with the fact that he might need his gun again very soon.

  The sound came sooner than he expected. Footsteps behind him. He spun, cocking the gun as he moved. Gritting his teeth against the flames in his shoulder, he leveled the gun at the chest of the approaching figure.

  He paused. He knew this man, but it took him a moment to recognize him. Trace Johnson moved up the hill, using his rifle as a crutch, his face badly lacerated and swollen.

  Relaxing, Sky sat back and then lay all the way down, resting his head on the ground for a moment. Trace collapsed onto the ground beside him, glancing over at Percival’s body. “Did I kill him?”

  Sky nodded.

  “I was aiming just to injure him and give you some time to gain control of the situation, but when you shot the gun out of his hand, he spun around and it was too late. I had already pulled the trigger.”

  “Where you been?” questioned Sky.

  “I headed for your house like we talked about. But as I was riding down the trail, someone up on the embankment stepped out from behind a tree and clubbed me in the face, leaving me for dead. It all happened so fast that I never even saw the fella, sort of like this situation.” He swore. “Now I’ll never know for sure whether he was the man I was looking for.”

  “He knew you were on to him. Maybe he thought you were getting a little too close. I’d be willing to bet that girl back east will recognize him if you show her his picture. At least she will get some of her family jewels back.”

  Sky’s eyes closed as he spoke.

  Trace grunted. “Well, this is not the way I like to close a case. But I suppose it’s the best I’m gonna get this time.” He glanced over at Sky and stood to his feet. “Come on. We need to get that bleedin’ stopped.”

  24

  Brooke awoke in the dark, pain washing over her as she tried to move. A low moan escaped her throat. Instantly she heard movement and the room flooded with light.

  She blinked several times in succession, trying to keep her eyes open against the blinding glare, and looked up into the worried faces of Sky and Rachel.

  Sky fingered the hair just behind the bandage that encircled her head, his eyes questioning her, seeing if she was all right. Rachel moved to the stove.

  Sky smiled. “It’s good to see you’re awake.”

  “Did you arrest Percival?” she questioned in a dry, raspy voice.

  “How are you feeling?” He ignored her question.

  “Sky.” She cleared her throat, trying to remove some of the scratchiness. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Shhh, dear, don’t try and talk.” Rachel straightened the blanket with one hand, holding a bowl in the other. “Sky, honey, I need to sit there so I can feed her some of this broth.”

  Sky glanced up at his mother and then back at Brooke, rising reluctantly and stepping away from her. Their conversation would have to wait for later.

  Nothing had ever tasted quite so good as the cool water and warm chicken broth that Rachel trickled into her mouth off a spoon. When she finished eating she felt exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep, but she needed to make a trip to the outhouse.

  She started to rise, and Sky, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a moment since she awoke, was instantly by her side. “What do you need?”

  “I need to go out.”

  “Brooke, you’ve been unconscious for a day and a half. You are not going anywhere but back to bed.”

  “Sky, I need to go out,” she repeated, embarrassed to say more.

  “And I said—”

  “Sky,” Rachel broke in, giving him a pointed look.

  He glanced back at Brooke, still uncomprehending, and then sudden understanding lit his face. “Oh! Well, come on, I’ll take you.”

  Brooke, mortified to feel him lift her up into his arms, tried to get down, pushing against his shoulder.

  “Brooke, hold still,” he commanded with a painful grimace.

  “Sky, do you think you should be—” Rachel started in an anxious tone.

  “I’m fine, Ma,” he said, cutting her off.

  Brooke glanced back and forth between them and finally gave up her struggle. Every move she made only caused Sky to hold her tighter and sent shooting pains along her temple. And even in her pain-filled state, she enjoyed the feel of his arms about her. She laid her head on his shoulder and allowed him to carry her to the outhouse. He deposited her right at the door and stood waiting for her just outside. He insisted on carrying her back to the house.

  When he again set her on her feet by the bed, unmindful of the fact that Rachel sat knitting just across the room, she laid one hand gently on his stubbly unshaven cheek, letting her thumb trail over his face. “Thank you.” A tender light leapt into his dark eyes at her words. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  He nodded, raising one finger to gently tap her nose. “Later.”

  “Sky, I—”

  He laid a finger over her lips. “Later. Now, I want you to rest.” Brooke sighed and glanced over at Rachel. “Is he always this pushy?”

  Rachel chuckled, relief washing over her. Brooke would be all right. She had worried, not knowing how deep the infection from the wound on her forehead had gone. But seeing her able to joke eased her mind. With a little care and time, Brooke would get better.

  Brooke fell asleep almost the instant her head hit the pi
llow and Rachel gestured for Sky to sit down. She helped him remove his shirt, and saw, just as she had expected, that his bandage was soaked with bright fresh blood.

  She gave him a disparaging frown. “You can’t be carrying her everywhere, or this will never heal.”

  He grinned unrepentantly. “It was worth it.” His eyes traveled involuntarily to where his wife slept, the smile still in place, and Rachel couldn’t bring herself to chastise him further.

  Three days later, Brooke was sitting up in bed, sipping a cup of coffee, when Sky entered the house.

  The swelling had gone down in her face, and the bandage she wore no longer extended all the way around her head but just covered the cut. She felt much better and planned to be out of bed by tomorrow and back to her normal routine.

  She had finally managed to get Sky to tell her what had happened up on the hill after she had passed out. He had told her Hunter had taken a shot at him, he had fired back, and Percival, in jerking away from his shot, had stepped into the line of fire from Trace’s gun.

  As Sky entered, she glanced up, wondering if he had learned anything more about the hanging of the five Chinamen. “Any news?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing new. The guards still insist that they were surrounded by a group of masked, armed men, but the evidence doesn’t point to that. We’ve scouted around but can’t find any clues as to what happened.”

  “Did you tell them I saw Percival Hunter right by the bodies?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, but there’s no evidence he was the one who did it. He could have just been in the area. We’ll keep looking for a while, but the longer it takes to find out what exactly happened, the less likely it is that we will.” He changed the subject then. “I have a visitor outside. Are you up to seeing someone?”

  “Oh yes. Give me a minute to get properly dressed and then you can show them in.”

  “No.”

  She blinked at him in surprise. “What?”

  “I want you to stay in bed. You’re finally on the mend, and I don’t want anything to happen that might change that.”