Redemption's Edge: Book 1, Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance

by Shirleen Davies

  The four rode in from opposite directions, shooting into the air, surprising Frank, Hiram, and Charles, who tried to duck into the barn. Bullets slamming into the wooden siding stopped them. Hiram turned, gun in hand, and fired, nicking Clark before Whitey put a bullet in Hiram’s leg.

  Frank dropped to the ground next to him, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to stop the flow of blood as Charles kept his hands in the air, taking a couple of steps toward his wagon.

  “That man needs help. I’m a doctor. I need to get my medical bag out of the wagon.”

  Duff continued to point his gun toward the three while looking into the back of the wagon. One black satchel lay behind the seat.

  “Go ahead, but understand there’s four of us watching you.” He glanced over at Clark and saw red seeping through his shirt. “I want the doc to look at your arm when he’s done with the old man.”

  “It’s nothing. Let’s get them inside. I’m not comfortable sitting in the daylight with those men chasing us.”

  Charles looked up at the gunman’s comment and wondered who hunted these men.

  “I can stand.” Hiram tried to sit, groaning when Charles pushed him down.

  “Quiet. I’m trying to hear what they’re saying,” Frank hissed as he leaned close to the riders a few feet away.

  “You.” Duff pointed his gun at Frank. “Help get him up and into the house.” Duff moved his horse closer. “You’ll have to finish inside.”

  Charles got on one side of Hiram while Frank took the other, lifting him under his arms and starting toward the house.

  Rachel stared out a slit in the front room curtains and leveled a rifle at the oldest of the outlaws. She’d almost run outside when the shots rang out, but the quick approach of the gunmen stopped her.

  “Hurry them up, Duff. We need to get out of sight.” Whitey dismounted, then waited for Clark to do the same before grabbing the reins of both horses and heading for the barn. “Jed, get Duff’s horse.”

  Rachel set her gaze on the youngest of the gunmen. He looked familiar—his height, walk, and somewhat cocky stance triggered something, but she couldn’t place his name or where’d she’d seen him. Her eyes shifted as Charles and Frank helped Hiram up the steps. She had to make a decision now or lose her chance to eliminate one of the outlaws. Rachel sighted the rifle and began to squeeze the trigger, then stopped, deciding the risk of the gunmen killing someone was too great. Instead, she lowered the rifle, grabbed her revolver from a nearby table, and dashed through the house, hoping to find a hiding place. She slipped up the back stairs, staying as quiet as possible, checking each room until she located a storage closet at the back of the second floor. The front door slammed open at the same time she pulled the closet door shut.

  “Whitey, tie him up while the doctor finishes with the other one.” Duff pointed to Frank, then turned his attention to Clark. “Get your arm taken care of, then check the rest of the house.”

  “Is there anyone else here?” Whitey asked Frank as he secured the rope around his hands and legs.

  “No. It’s just the three of us.” Frank grimaced as the tight knots cut into his skin.

  Whitey eyed him. Something in Frank’s voice had him on edge. “You sure about that?”

  “Of course I am. All the others are out with the cattle.” Frank wondered where Rachel had found a place to hide and hoped she stayed there. “What do you want with us? We don’t keep much money here.”

  “Of course you do, but money isn’t what we want.” Whitey finished securing the rope, then stood and looked down at the rancher. “We’re after the men hunting us.”

  “And who is chasing you?”

  “Whitey, what’s taking so long?” Duff asked as he walked into the room. “Help Jed check out the rest of the house. The doctor is taking care of Clark’s arm. We need to set up before they get here.”

  “They’re here, Dax. I’m certain of it.” Cash sat atop his horse and looked back toward the large, two-story house below. He’d circled the ranch area, finding what he felt sure were tracks from the outlaw’s horses. “I don’t understand why they'd stop here and not ride out of the territory.”

  “Dax, look down there.” Luke pointed to the wagon with a horse they both recognized.

  “Old Pete.” Dax’s heart began to pound when the thought of the doctor being inside the home with a group of killers. Could Rachel be with him?

  “What is it?” Noah asked.

  “That’s Doc Worthington’s wagon and horse. Old Pete is hard to miss.” Luke slid off Prince and walked to the edge of the brush that concealed them. He took a quick glance around before disappearing down the slope and crouching behind a thick shrub. He shot a look over his shoulder when he heard someone follow.

  “Someone needs to find out what’s going on inside and determine if the Mayes and Olin brothers are here.” Dax squatted next to his brother and tried to tap down the apprehension enveloping him.

  “I’ll go. Remember, this is what I did for much of the war—surveyed enemy territory prior to a battle.” Luke started to stand before feeling Dax’s hand on his arm.

  “Go down from the back, and stay where we can see you. Do you remember our signal?” Dax asked.

  “Of course.” Luke whistled low, indicating he could still make the cricket sound the two had used since their youth to warn each other of trouble.

  Dax didn’t like Luke going down alone, even though he knew two would increase the odds someone would spot them. They stood, bending low while they made their way up the slope.

  “What’s going on?” Cash asked. Gabe, Noah, and Bull stood behind him as Dax and Luke approached them.

  “Luke’s going in from the back to see who’s in the house.”

  “I’ll go with him.”

  “Thanks, Cash, but it’s best if I go alone.” Luke checked his Remington and the knife he had concealed in a scabbard around his ankle. “I won’t take chances. A quick check and I’ll be back.”

  “Don’t be a hero,” Dax warned, concern evident in his eyes.

  “Hey, you know me.” Luke smiled and took off at a brisk pace along the trail, disappearing into the dense brush.

  “Yeah, that’s what concerns me,” Dax muttered as Cash clasped his shoulder.

  “He’ll be fine. The kid’s always had the damndest luck.”

  Dax thought of Cash’s words and found he had to agree. Luke had always been able to sneak in and out of places without detection. The skill had pushed him up the ranks until he’d been promoted to major just months before the war’s end.

  “Now we wait.” Gabe took a position so he could see the back of the house as well as movement from the front. “I hope the people who own the house aren’t in there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Rachel could hear boots on the stairs. By the sounds of it, more than one person intended to search the second floor. She huddled further back into the closet, trying to conceal herself behind old clothes while keeping the gun trained on the door. If they found her, at least she’d be able to get off one shot.

  “You check the rooms in the back, while I look in these,” Whitey said to Jed, indicating the three rooms near the front stairs. Compared to most ranch homes, this one boasted several upstairs bedrooms, enough for at least two families with children. The downstairs had a couple of bedrooms plus a study, as well as the kitchen with pantry, dining room, and front area. One set of stairs led up from the entry hall, while another accessed the second level near the pantry.

  Whitey searched three bedrooms, checking under beds and inside wardrobes. He found no one.

  Jed checked rooms closest to the back stairs until one door remained. He slowly pulled it open, then jerked it wide when he saw it held clothes and wooden crates. He glanced down the hall at Whitey. “Nothing here.”

  Jed lowered his revolver to his side before taking one more look inside. His eyes locked on the barrel of a gun pointed toward his chest. He began to raise his weapon and aim when
a blast sounded and a searing pain ripped through his shoulder. His gun fell from his fingers as he gripped his injured arm.

  Rachel could hear boots pounding toward her and aimed once more, getting another shot off as Whitey pushed Jed aside and aimed. The bullet grazed Whitey’s leg, but he didn’t stop. A strong hand reached in and pulled Rachel from the closet. She tried to use her gun to defend herself, but a hard slap to her face stopped her. The outlaw shoved her into a nearby wall, knocking her out. Rachel collapsed to the floor.

  “What the hell?”

  Whitey looked up to see Duff standing next to him, staring at the women on the floor.

  “Jed needs help.” He grabbed a shirt from the closet and wrapped it around his leg to stop the bleeding. “Mine’s nothing.” He levered himself up from the floor.

  Duff scanned Jed’s wound. “You’re lucky, boy. Looks like it ripped clean through. Get downstairs and have the doc patch you up.”

  Jed nodded, gripping his injured shoulder as he walked past the woman on the floor. He stopped for a moment, his eyes locking on her face, and realized he knew her. The doc’s nurse, the one he’d seen at the Pelletier ranch. The woman who Dax Pelletier indicated, with the slightest of gestures, belonged to him.

  “Duff, I know this woman.” Jed continued to stare at Rachel.

  “You know a lot of women.”

  “You don’t understand. She’s a nurse and came by the ranch while Bill and I were there.”

  “Yeah?” Duff looked at Jed before switching his gaze to Rachel.

  “She’s Dax Pelletier’s woman.”

  Luke had no trouble making his way unseen to the back of the house. He could see into the kitchen, but not much else. He crept low under the windows toward the side visible to Dax and the others, crouching down in an attempt to hear inside. Loud voices rang through the front area, but the words weren’t clear. He took off his hat before rising to look inside.

  From what Luke remembered, two widowed brothers. Frank and Hiram Frey, owned the ranch. Doc Worthington worked on someone spread out on the floor. He guessed the man with the wounded leg was one of them, and made a quick decision to go back around the house to see if he could locate the second one.

  He signaled to Dax before moving at a determined pace around the house. A few minutes later, he looked into what appeared to be a study to see another man tied to a chair, a gag in his mouth. Behind him stood a man Luke didn’t recognize, but assumed to be one of the cousins. He recognized the other man standing next to him from the wanted posters. Duff Mayes.

  Luke turned to leave when a shot rang out, followed by a second one. He wasted no time sprinting up the hill and following the path to where everyone waited. His mind already worked through various scenarios about what the shots meant, and the best way to rescue those inside and arrest the outlaws.

  “I’ve got to get down there.” Dax took a step down the hill before Cash and Gabe grabbed his arms.

  “Not yet. Wait until Luke gets back.” Cash tightened his grip on his friend, seeing the determination on his face.

  “Let go of me.” Dax’s strained voice hissed out as he tried to shake the men off.

  “We do this together or, I swear, we’ll tie you to a tree.” Gabe’s hard-edged voice pulled Dax from the fear that gripped him at the sound of the gunshots. “She’ll be all right. They won’t harm her.”

  Dax looked at the sheriff, not yet comprehending.

  “They need her to draw you out.”

  Dax didn’t speak, but Gabe could see acceptance cross his face.

  Luke came up and took in the scene before him as Gabe and Cash loosened their hold on his brother.

  “What did you see?” Dax asked, his voice tense.

  “It’s the Mayes and Olin brothers. They have the doc and two other men, who I’m guessing are the Frey brothers.” He looked at Dax and cleared his throat. “I didn’t see Rachel, but they must have her.”

  Dax swore. He scrubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “The shots?”

  “I heard them, same as you.” They both knew the odds favored one of the hostages being shot.

  Dax worked to rein in the anxiety consuming him. He needed his control, the leadership he’d shown in battle, if they were to get Rachel and the others out alive.

  God help the man who hurts her in any way, Dax thought, and turned toward the others. Three solemn faces stared back at him.

  “What do you want us to do, boss?” Bull asked, ready to ride straight in and free the doc and Miss Davenport.

  Dax turned back to Luke. “Tell us everything you saw.”

  Duff Mayes stood over Rachel, a savage smile on his face. “So you’re Pelletier’s woman.” The triumph in his voice confirmed her fears. He meant to use her to lure Dax in, then kill him.

  “Your man is wrong. Mr. Pelletier means no more to me than any other man my uncle and I help when someone’s sick or injured.” She glared at Duff, raising her chin in defiance and locking her eyes with his. They’d tied her to a chair with ropes securing her hands and legs.

  “That’s not what Jed says.”

  “Well, Jed is wrong. I have no idea why he thinks there is anything else between Mr. Pelletier and me because there isn’t.” She glanced at her uncle, hoping he understood her intent.

  “She’s lying, Duff. I saw the way he looked at her. There’s definitely more between them than her being their nurse.” Jed grimaced as Charles finished bandaging his shoulder.

  “That’s the best I can do. You’re lucky the bullet went through your shoulder and missed your heart. My niece is generally a better shot than that.”

  Jed jumped to his feet and pushed Charles onto the divan. “Shut up, old man.”

  “Enough, Jed. Take him to the study and tie him up.”

  “What then?” Jed asked as he pulled Charles to his feet.

  “We wait.”

  “Are there any questions?” Dax asked as the men considered the idea for freeing the prisoners.

  “None from me.” Cash pulled out his gun and checked it once more before shoving it back in its holster.

  “Where do you want me once I let their horses loose?” Bull asked.

  “Stay at the barn. Don’t move forward until my signal. If any of the gang somehow get out the front door, shoot them.”

  Bull nodded, hoping at least one would make it out. Anyone who took Miss Davenport and the doc hostage deserved what they got.

  Noah looked at Gabe, knowing he could take out at least two men in quick succession from a hundred yards, if needed. He hadn’t pulled the trigger of a gun in over two years, not since he’d left the fighting behind and ventured west with Gabe.

  Dax noticed the exchange between the two men. “Do you have something to add, Noah?”

  Noah swallowed hard before speaking. “Luke, you said there’s a clear view into the study from the front of the house, correct?”

  “It looked that way to me. The house has a series of windows along the front, facing the barn.”

  Noah turned his gaze to Dax, mentally preparing himself to do whatever they needed. “If any of the gang is in the study, I can get them both without harming any of the prisoners.” His voice held a hint of resignation.

  Dax suspected Noah possessed skills he’d never shared with anyone except Gabe. Skills he preferred not to use, but would if pushed.

  “You’re certain?”

  “Yes, sir. No doubt in my mind.”

  Dax narrowed his gaze at him. “All right. You go in with Bull and take a position so you can see into the study. As soon as you’re set, Bull will signal the rest of us. When we hear your first shot, we’ll move in.”

  “Quick and clean,” Gabe muttered, clasping Noah on the shoulder.

  “Quick and clean,” Noah responded as he pulled his Spencer repeating rifle from its scabbard.

  “Where are they?” Duff asked no one in particular as time wore on with no sign of the Pelletiers.

  “They’ll come,” Cla
rk responded from his chair positioned at the window in the front.

  Duff and Clark had taken positions in one room, while Whitey and Jed kept watch from the study. Hiram remained on the floor near Rachel, who squirmed in her chair, trying to loosen the tight ropes.

  “Sit still, girl. You’ll just make the knots tighter.” Duff had been watching Rachel’s efforts, admiring her spunk, hoping she’d be what they needed to draw in the Pelletiers.

  She glared back, having no intention of sitting quietly while he lured Dax to his death. “You’re wasting your time. Mr. Pelletier is too smart to fall for what you have planned.”

  “And what would that be?” Duff decided to go along. Perhaps she’d tell them something important about the man or his brother.

  “It’s obvious you believe he’ll give himself over to you in exchange for me. He won’t. The man doesn’t like to be backed into a corner or forced to do something against his principles, which is your plan. He’ll find another way to get to you and, by nightfall, all four of you will be dead.” At least she prayed it would play out that way. She did not want Dax’s death on her conscience.

  Duff stood and walked over to glare down at her, noting the way her eyes sparked in anger. “I see you believe what you say, girl. Too bad it won’t work out the way you want.” He checked her bonds before pacing to look out each window, noticing nothing unusual.

  Rachel considered another tactic. “I need to use the privy,” she said, looking toward Duff.

  “Can’t it wait?” he asked.

  “No. I’m afraid not. I’ve put it off too long already.”

  Duff holstered his gun, removed the ropes around her ankles, and pulled her up to stand next to him. “Come on.” He gripped her arm to lead her outside.

  “A whiskey sure would taste good right now.” Clark rubbed his arm where Hiram’s bullet had grazed him. Charles had cleaned it up, yet the intense ache remained. Alcohol would do a lot to deaden the pain.