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

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The Shepherd's Heart Series: A Boxed Set Book Bundle Collection Volumes 1-4 Page 45

by Lynnette Bonner


  Nicki grasped his arm to steady him.

  “Dear Jesus!” His eyes glazed, and he stared at the door to the soddy, horror etched into his face.

  He’s praying? Maybe he does know the Lord, after all. What a kind man to be so affected by the news of their loss.

  “I’ll get you some coffee.” She ducked back into the house. When she re-emerged, William was trembling from head to toe and staring vacantly across the yard.

  Jason approached. He had been to the bunkhouse for a shave, she noted. “Everything all right?” Concern edged his voice as he eyed William.

  “I was just telling William about the Jeffries’ loss.” She pressed the hot cup into William’s hands.

  Jason eyed the man, taking in the ashen color of his face and then looked at Nicki. “How are they? Did you get them to eat anything yet?”

  Nicki shook her head. “They are still in shock.”

  He nodded, prodding the snow with the toe of his boot. “Find out where they want to bury her, and Conner and I will dig the grave.”

  She nodded, resting a hand momentarily on his arm before she headed back into the house.

  Nicki tried to ease Brenda’s sorrow the only way she knew how, with an embrace accompanied by prayer. Tears stung her eyes. This was exactly the way May had comforted her only weeks ago after John’s death. Brenda’s trembling lessened as she leaned into Nicki’s embrace, and for that Nicki was thankful.

  They had buried little May earlier. It had taken Jason, Ron, and Conner all day to dig the grave in the frozen soil. She had stood arm in arm with Brenda while Ron had said the words. And when they had lowered May into the hole, Nicki had felt the tremor that raced through Brenda’s arm.

  Now they were all back in the soddy, and there was no room to move.

  Tilly had come and volunteered to take Sawyer home with her for a couple of days, which Nicki was deeply thankful for. But all the rest of them were crowded into the warmth of the little house. Conner and Ron leaned against the wall in the kitchen area. Rolf, William, and Jason were seated at the table, and the boys sat bleary-eyed on the bed in the corner, Diablo curled up between them.

  Nicki had been supporting Brenda’s weight for a good half-hour and was beginning to feel the strain in her lower back. She shifted her feet.

  Jason must have noticed, for he suddenly stood. “Mrs. Jeffries,” his voice was soft, “you’ve been standing for a mighty long time. Why don’t you come sit for a spell?”

  Brenda moved out of Nicki’s embrace, woodenly taking the chair Jason offered her, and Nicki took a couple of steps, trying to work some of the kinks out of her back. It took every ounce of her willpower not to rub the small of her back. Yet she would have stood there for the rest of the night if Brenda had needed her to.

  Jason poured Brenda a steaming cup of coffee, and Nicki was pleased to see that Brenda sipped it without seeming to notice.

  Silence hung heavy in the room. Nicki had just started to tuck in Bobby, who had fallen asleep on the bed, when William’s angry voice broke the stillness.

  “Jordan, where were you last night when this fire started?”

  Jason, who was just refilling his own cup of coffee, stopped mid-pour, blinking at William.

  Nicki gasped and stood erect. “William! What are you saying?” Every eye in the room suddenly fixed on Jason.

  “I’m saying Jordan, here, only rode into town at the first of last week! I want to know where this stranger was when the house of one of our own burnt to the ground, killing their little girl. I took a good look at that house after the funeral today. The back of the place burnt hotter than the front, and we all know what that means. That fire was set.”

  Nicki swallowed. Could Jason have done such a thing? He had told her that before he came to the Lord, he’d attempted to kill a man. How much did she really know about him, anyway?

  “How ’bout it, Jordan?” William snarled. “Care to tell us where you were?”

  Jason quietly set the coffee pot back on the stove, his thoughts racing with the speed of a wild stallion. His gaze automatically sought out Nicki’s, and air left his lungs at the doubt and confusion he saw on her face. He could almost hear the thoughts running through her mind. He had been gone longer than their agreed amount of time. He hadn’t said a word to her about the horses since he’d gotten back; there hadn’t been time. By her expression, she was wondering how well she really knew him. After all, William had been her friend and closest neighbor for the past three years, not to mention the fact that the man had been courting her since the death of her husband.

  He turned from her bewildered face and looked at William, angry with himself for underestimating the man.

  He had taken a look around the Jeffries’ place for himself after the funeral this afternoon and what he had seen had chilled him.

  A single set of tracks led away from the back of the cabin and directly into the brush he had traveled through the night before on his way to the fire. Could the sound he had heard in the brush and attributed to a scared animal have been the arsonist himself? The tracks had led him to the tree where he had tied his captive the night before, so whoever had set the fire had also loosed his prisoner. Had it been William? But why would William want to burn down the Jeffries’ cabin? It didn’t make sense unless—

  “Jason?” Nicki interrupted his thoughts.

  He turned his eyes back to her, taking a sip of his coffee and trying to remain calm. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her about the herd of horses that was going to save her ranch. But he knew he couldn’t do that in front of William. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man could not be trusted.

  “He come an’ helped us,” Brenda spoke up. “He come and put out the fire.”

  William snorted. “How convenient that he just happened to be in that area at the right time!”

  Jason made no reply, knowing that anything he said in this atmosphere would only sound like a lie.

  “Ron,” William spoke again, “did you smell any smoke from where you were working?”

  Ron’s lips thinned as though he didn’t like being roped into William’s accusations. He glanced at Jason for a moment but finally shook his head no.

  “Conner?”

  “No.” Conner’s answer was also reluctant.

  “Yet Jordan here, who works the same spread as both of you, just happened to smell the smoke and run to the rescue. Isn’t that nice?” William’s meaning was clear.

  Rolf and Brenda stared at him, questions in their eyes.

  “I didn’t start that fire,” Jason said. The words sounded empty even in his own ears.

  William turned to Rolf. “Do you know this man from somewhere, Mr. Jeffries? Does he have some reason to want to hurt you or your family?”

  Rolf studied him, then shook his head. “I don’t...I don’t think so.”

  Suddenly, there was the sound of horses in the yard outside. William smiled faintly, and Jason had the feeling that a noose was being tightened around his neck. “I sent one of my men into Farewell Bend for the sheriff. I believe he’s had a look around the Jeffries’ place. That must be him. Why don’t we all go out and see what he has to say?”

  Jason swallowed. Whatever the sheriff had to say, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be good.

  Ron’s head was reeling as he headed out the door. Could he have misjudged the man so badly? He had liked Jason the moment he laid eyes on him. Had he really set that fire? On the other hand, William Harpster had always made the hair on the back of Ron’s neck stand up like a dog on alert, and Ron would be the first to admit that the man generally put him in a fighting mood. But would he stoop so low as to accuse someone of arson and murder without proof?

  The memory of what Jason had said just after he came back with the Jeffries flashed through Ron’s mind. “Not only arson. Murder.” Jason’s face had been troubled. Had he meant to set the fire but not to kill the little girl?

  Ron glanced at Jason again. The man seemed calm e
nough. Maybe too calm. He stood now with his thumbs casually hooked in his belt loops, waiting to see what the sheriff would have to say. Ron wondered what would be forthcoming.

  Sheriff Dan Watts was an older man with a drooping walrus mustache that hung down on either side of his mouth below his chin. He had the habit of twisting the ends with his thumb and forefinger as he talked, and he was doing that even now.

  The sheriff addressed Rolf and Brenda, “Sir, ma’am. I’m right sorry to hear ’bout yer place and yer girl.”

  Rolf and Brenda nodded.

  “Been out to yer place. Seems that there fire was set a-purpose. Know anyone who’d want to do y’all harm?”

  Both shook their heads.

  “Could smell kerosene distinct-like on a patch of snow just behind the cabin. None o’ yer kids would have been playing with the lamp, would they?”

  Brenda looked at Rolf. Rolf looked at Bobby.

  “I weren’t, Pa! I was readin’ to May, and she fell asleep. Then the back wall started on fire. I never touched the lamp.”

  Rolf’s voice cracked. “When I found May she was...sleeping on the bed in the house. I can’t say for sure, but I think the lamp was still on the table where we kept it.”

  Sheriff Watts gave his mustache several more twists. “Figured as much. Anybody recognize this?” He held aloft a button.

  Ron watched Jason’s face but couldn’t tell what he was feeling when he spoke. “That looks like it came off my shirt. It’s in the bunkhouse. I’ll go get it.”

  The sheriff watched him take several steps before he nodded at Ron to follow him and turned toward the Jeffries to ask some more questions.

  Jason heard Ron enter the bunkhouse behind him, but he did not turn around. He was still holding the shirt he had changed out of that morning. Someone had splashed kerosene on it. He knew it hadn’t smelled like this when he rode in earlier.

  “Ron, I’m in trouble, and I’m going to need your help.” He swiveled and fixed his gaze on the older man as he made the impulsive decision to trust him with his life.

  Ron blinked and rested his hands on narrow hips. “Son?”

  “We’ve got about two minutes before that crew out there comes busting in here, wondering what’s going on. I need you to listen carefully, but first I need to know if you believe me when I say that I did not start that fire.”

  Ron stroked one hand down his wrinkled cheek in thought, but it didn’t take him more than a second to reply. “I reckon I do, son. I reckon I do.”

  “Fine. Remember those horses you told me about? Well, I found them. And a whole lot more than just four of them. He must have left those stallions in that valley with a herd of at least fifty brood mares. There are at least two hundred horses in there.”

  Ron let out a low whistle.

  “Ron, I don’t know who set that fire last night, but it looks like someone wants me to take the fall for it. Smell this.” He handed the shirt to Ron, who promptly lifted it to his nose.

  “Kerosene.”

  Jason nodded, then grimaced at the doubt that leapt into Ron’s gray eyes. “Think back. You talked to me right after I came in with them. Did you smell even a whiff of kerosene? Why would I set the fire and then go back to help them? I was at least a quarter of a mile from that cabin about the time the fire must have been set.”

  “I believe you, son.” Ron sniffed the shirt again with a frown. “But you’re in a heap o’ trouble. What are we gonna do?”

  “First, don’t mention a thing about those horses. Someone was following me out there. I was bringing him back here to get some answers out of him when I came on the fire. Something crashed through the brush, and I thought it was just a scared animal, but it wasn’t. After the funeral today, I went down to have a look around. There were footprints. I missed whoever set the fire by a couple of yards in the dark. And whoever it was set my captive free. I followed his tracks to where I had tied him up and could see the mark where someone had cut the ropes.”

  “Your guy have a name?”

  Jason shook his head. “He wouldn’t talk. Tall. Real skinny. Dark hair. Droopy mustache. Looked like he might have recently broken his nose. Sound familiar?”

  “Could be Slim. He works for William. Conner said he thought he mighta broke the nose o’ whoever attacked us last week.” Ron’s tone held a note of something Jason couldn’t quite put his finger on. Was Ron doubting that William would have him followed? Or was he beginning to have questions of his own about Nicki’s neighbor?

  There was a commotion outside. Jason could hear the crunch of footsteps and knew he was running out of time.

  He lowered his voice. “I want you to send a wire. Rocky Jordan. Deputy Sheriff in Shilo, Oregon. Tell him everything. Tell him to bring Cade.” Jason fleetingly wished he could send for Sky, but Brooke was due to have her baby any time now, and Rocky was just as capable. He had never been more thankful for the strong bonds their family shared. “And get to those horses, Ron. Southwest corner. I brushed my trail, but if they have a good tracker they may have already followed it. You’ll have to hurry.”

  Sheriff Watts stepped through the door and swung his eyes from Ron to Jason and back again. He gave his mustache a twist. “Ya find yer shirt?”

  Ron handed it to him.

  The sheriff’s nose twitched, and he cast Jason a glance before examining the buttons. Jason hadn’t even bothered to look at the buttons; he knew one would be missing. Whether he had lost it last night while fighting the blaze or whether someone had ripped it off and planted it by the cabin was immaterial, though the latter was probably the case. With the kerosene smell on that shirt, he knew he would be spending at least one night in jail. Probably more.

  The sheriff found the missing button and then held up the one in his hand to make sure it matched the others on the shirt. Jason would give him credit for the fact that he appeared to be checking out all the evidence and not just trying to haul someone in for the crime.

  Watts’ face was grim when he spoke. “Jordan, I’m afeard yer gonna have ta come with me.”

  Jason thought of something. “Sheriff, I went and had a look around that cabin myself after the funeral today. There was a set of footprints there that don’t belong to me. They led directly into the brush behind the house. Someone else was there besides me.”

  “Well, now, ain’t it just amazin’ that from the time ya was there to the time I got there those footprints just disappeared? I been out there myself, Jordan, and the only set o’ tracks I seen were yours.”

  William, who had stepped into the room behind the sheriff, spoke up. “I’d have to concur, Sheriff. I went down there after the funeral myself and the only tracks that were there were Jordan’s. He’s just trying to think fast and save his hide.”

  Jason cast a look at Ron. Get going.

  Ron gave an imperceptible nod, then eased himself out the door.

  Jason could only hope he was heading out after those horses. If they didn’t get to them before the others, Nicki’s hope of saving this ranch was gone forever.

  The sheriff spun Jason around and roughly tied his hands behind his back. As he was pushed out the door of the bunkhouse into the swirling snow that had begun to fall, he experienced a moment of satisfaction as he saw Ron and Conner disappearing over the crest of the hill. Good. Dear God, let them be on time.

  The sheriff left Jason standing and walked over to saddle up his horse which was in the round corral.

  Nicki looked at him, her large, dark eyes fixed directly on his face. Jason’s eyes never left hers as he rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. He wished he had the words to convince her that he hadn’t done this terrible thing. He wanted to assure her that everything was going to be fine; that he would be back to take care of everything as soon as he could.

  But he had no assurances to offer her. Murder was a hanging offense, and unless Rocky was able to find something that would clear him, he probably wouldn’t set foot on Hanging T soil again. Ever. He swallowed th
e lump that formed in his throat at the thought. His only consolation was the fact that if Ron and Conner got to the horses on time, Nicki’s ranch would at least be saved.

  His gaze flickered to Mr. and Mrs. Jeffries. They stood just outside the door to the soddy, seemingly oblivious to the swirling snow, Rolf’s arms around Brenda’s shoulders. Jason felt his heart grip with compassion for them. What would it be like to have your little girl healthy and happy one day and gone the next?

  His thoughts turned to prayer. He had no other recourse. God, help them. Help us find out who really did this and bring them to justice. Be with Nicki. Keep her safe. And Lord, if you could work it out, could you please get me out of this situation? Bring Rocky quickly and guide him in the right direction once he gets here. Help him know what needs to be done.

  He turned his face back to Nicki, and she came and stood before him, looking up into his face with compassionate, questioning eyes.

  “Ma’am.” He cleared his throat. The word was too formal in light of the emotions pumping through his heart. He traded it for her name. “Nicki, I didn’t do this. I need you to trust me.”

  She searched his face before she asked, “Where were you, Jason? Where were you when that fire started?”

  He licked his lips, debating what he could tell her. Could she be trusted to keep the information about the horses from William? At this point Jason didn’t know for sure how the man was involved in this situation, but he had learned long ago to listen to his instincts. And every instinct he had screamed foul whenever that man was around.

  He tossed a glance at William and noted that he was striding toward them from where he had been by Sheriff Watts near the corral. Jason made his decision. Stepping closer to her and lowering his voice, he said, “I don’t have time to tell you everything right now. Talk to Ron. And please don’t trust William with any information. I can’t prove it yet, but I think he is somehow involved in all of this.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. What had been compassion on her face hardened into granite distrust.

  He sighed, wishing he hadn’t told her quite so much about his past.

 

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