The Tribute

by Beth Williamson

  “I love you, Papa. I hope you’re in Mama’s arms right now looking down on me. I miss you both so much.”

  Her voice broke and Alex struggled to maintain control. Just as she thought her trembling would overcome her, Brett appeared at her elbow to steady her.

  “Come on, honey. Let’s go sit down and let other folks pay their respects.”

  Alex leaned on Brett and allowed him to lead her to the shade of an oak tree. There he rested against the tree and tucked her under his arm. She closed her eyes and spent the rest of the funeral remembering how much she loved her father and how much she’d miss him.

  Chapter Twelve

  The day after the funeral Brett and Kincaid set out before breakfast and headed northeast to the Dawson ranch. Each wore pistols and had a rifle secured to the saddle. Brett wanted to make sure they were well armed to survive an ambush or anything else King decided to lob at them.

  The battle lines had been drawn. Brett just needed to accept the challenge King had thrown in his face. No more sitting on his ranch and waiting for something to happen because something had happened. Byron had been murdered and Alex beaten.

  No more.

  The litany ran through Brett’s head as they galloped across the land rich with green and life. It was a wonder more men didn’t kill for it. As they approached the main gate, Kincaid hissed.

  “I see at least six armed men. One of them is Ford. I’d recognize that scarecrow of death anywhere.”

  “What do you think we should do?” Brett was a rancher, not a gunfighter. He’d had his share of rescue operations with his family, but nothing this personal. Nothing that put his future at stake.

  “Slow to a trot and let’s ease up there. They can’t just gun us down if we’re being neighborly.” Kincaid’s grin was anything but neighborly.

  They slowed the horses and trotted the last quarter mile to the gate. All six men stood with rifles pointed toward the sky, but the feeling of menace flowed strongly from each one.

  Ford strolled toward them, his cold expression dropping the August temperature by ten degrees. “Something I can help you boys with?”

  Kincaid snorted. “You’re twenty-five years old, Ford. Who are you calling a boy?”

  “Don’t rile him,” Brett whispered harshly. “I need you alive.”

  “Couldn’t help it. He makes my hackles jump.” Kincaid’s lips barely moved.

  “Me, too.”

  Ford’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

  “We want to talk to King.” Brett kept his voice steady and sure. He didn’t want any of those fools knowing his heart was about to burst from his chest and his hands were as clammy as a whore in church.

  “He don’t want to talk to you. Now git before I shoot you for trespassing.” Ford’s grin made the horses whinny.

  “How about you give him a message from me?”

  Ford cocked one black eyebrow. “What would that message be?”

  “Tell him I know what he did to Byron and Alex Brighton. I demand he drop the legal battle and never speak to Alex again. Tell him if he doesn’t, the Malloys are declaring war.” It felt good to say it. Damn good. Liberating even.

  “You sure you want me to deliver that?” Ford’s hand drifted toward the pistol riding low on his thigh.

  “More than sure. I can deliver it myself if you’d like.” Rusty danced nervously beneath him and Brett calmed the gelding with his knees.

  “I’ll deliver the message. You and your dog just better be sure you’re ready for the battle. I never knew a piece of pussy was worth your life.”

  Brett nearly flew off the horse to punch the piece of shit, but Kincaid’s arm on his chest stopped him.

  “I’ll bet you haven’t,” Kincaid drawled. “My guess is you’ve never even had real pussy before.”

  Someone snickered beside Ford. He snapped his head toward the offending guard and shot the man dead in the time it took to blink. Brett knew then Kincaid wasn’t kidding about Ford being dangerous. He wasn’t just dangerous, he was as crazy as King.

  “Get the fuck off Dawson land.” Ford seemed to vibrate with fury. His colorless eyes sparked beneath the rim of his black hat.

  “Just deliver the message.”

  Brett and Kincaid wheeled their horses around and broke out into a full gallop. They both leaned low in the saddle waiting for the report of a rifle as they raced back toward the Square One.

  Brett wasn’t sure throwing down the gauntlet to two crazy men had been the best idea in the world, but it felt good. He was tired of doing nothing. Time to visit Ray and make a plan for action.

  The Malloys were being called to war.

  ———

  Alex had been on the Square One ranch for three days and she felt trapped. There weren’t any women to talk to, nowhere to visit, and during the day, not a soul around but herself. Brett did his best to make her comfortable, but it didn’t feel like enough. She needed him near her always.

  It wasn’t as if she didn’t love Brett, because she did. Sleeping alone wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but he refused to compromise her reputation with the other men on the ranch. It was sweet, but unsatisfying. She’d been more intimate with him when they lived an hour apart.

  She wiped the last plate dry as she stared out the small window by the sink. Brett and Kincaid had rushed to install a new sink so she didn’t have to go to the well pump for water. They were all gentlemen and she appreciated their kindness more than they knew.

  Mason stayed behind to “help” her at the ranch, but Alex knew the real reason he stayed was to keep them both safe. He was a good kid and a good worker. He was out mucking the stalls in the barn while she did the dishes.

  With a sigh, she set the tin plate on top of the others on the shelf and hung the towel on the side of the sink to dry. Ug had found a cat in the barn to make friends with and now spent a good portion of his time visiting with his kitty. They were like kindred spirits, both stray animals that found homes and each other. The little tabby had taken to Ug, although she acted a bit superior to the floppy-eared dog.

  Alex was unused to being alone and had finished all the books she’d brought. She didn’t like needlepoint or anything along those lines. That left writing, which she’d done enough of to make a dent in her middle finger from the pencil. Truth was, Alex was bored and had too much time on her hands to think. Her father had been on her mind quite a bit, as had Brett and the untenable legal situation.

  The temperature hovered on the far side of hot, but Alex needed to get out of the house before she started climbing the walls. She grabbed her sun bonnet and headed outside into the sticky air. Not the most pleasant weather, typical for late summer, but anything was better than staring at the cabin walls.

  Alex walked toward the corral to visit Rowdy. The gelding had started to get fat since he hadn’t been ridden much in the last three weeks. He whickered and trotted right over to her.

  “You miss me, boy? Me, too. I need to go for a ride.”

  Rowdy nudged her hand and butted his head against her shoulder.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Let me see if my guard wants to come.”

  She walked into the barn and found Mason returning from emptying the wheelbarrow into the pile behind the barn.

  “All done?”

  “Yes’m. Is there somethin’ you wanted me to do?” He wiped his forehead with one dirty arm leaving a smear across his skin.

  Alex pretended not to notice.

  “I wanted to go for a ride since it’s such a beautiful day. Would you like to go with me? I’ll pack a picnic lunch and we can sit by the creek and watch the rest of the cowboys work.”

  He looked hesitant, perhaps even a little scared. Brett had told her the stampede had frightened him quite a bit.

  “I haven’t ridden my horse in weeks. He’s getting fat and lazy, so I’ll only be able to trot. If you won’t be too bored, I’d really love the company.”

  Mason glanced at the paint i
n the stall beside him and shuffled his feet back and forth. “I dunno.”

  “I’ll even bring a book and I can read to you.”

  “Really, for true?” His face lit as if from a light within.

  “Yes, of course.” She wanted to give his skinny body a hug, but knew he’d take it as a sign of weakness. Even if he was the same height as she, he was still a boy and succumbed to the whole “I need to be a man” edict.

  “Okay, then, I’ll saddle the horses while you get the food.”

  “Excellent!” Alex headed back into the house to hunt up something to carry their lunch in. She’d bring extra so Brett, Noah and Kincaid could share. Within ten minutes they were on their way with a lunch of canned peaches, biscuits and honey, lemonade, and cold chicken packed in Ug’s basket. Alex had wiped out the inside and wrapped the food in a sheet they could also use to sit on for their picnic.

  On the ride out to the pasture, she chatted with Mason and tried to keep him at ease on the horse. Before she knew it, they’d arrived at the creek and dismounted. Alex sat on the bank and read some of Robinson Crusoe to Mason. He watched her finger move beneath the words as she wove the tale with her voice.

  Soon he wanted to learn some of the letters, and picked up common words quickly. By the time she was ready to eat, several hours had passed and the rest of the men rode up. Mason seemed embarrassed to be reading, but Brett put him at ease.

  “Reading is important to any man, Mason. You need to make sure no one ever cheats you at anything. If you can’t read, they will. Besides, ladies love a man who reads poetry to them.”

  Alex chuckled under her breath. Brett had never read a word of poetry, much less to her. They all sat on the sheet and ate the delicious lunch together. The camaraderie flowed strongly between them, like a small family.

  All too soon, the food was gone and it was time to return. Brett must have seen something in her face because he told the others he had to go back to the ranch. Alex’s heart skipped a beat at the thought they might be going back together for an afternoon dessert.

  All three galloped back to the ranch, laughing and racing each other. By the time they arrived, Alex was out of breath and smiling like a lunatic. Even Brett smiled and her body reacted like a match to flame.

  “Here, Mason, why don’t you take this book and practice?”

  “Really?” He held the book like a precious gift. “I can have it?”

  “You can have it for as long as you like.” Alex’s gaze focused on Brett’s lips and what she’d like to do with them in the next minute.

  “Thanks!” Mason led the horses into the barn, book tucked into his pocket.

  “Now that he’s gone…” Alex wrapped her arm around Brett’s. “I have something to show you in the house.”

  “Can’t wait,” he murmured.

  He opened the door for her and she stepped into a nightmare. Gone was the clean, tidy house she’d left four hours earlier. In its place was a disaster. The smell of horse manure hit her first, then urine. Brett pushed past her and the expression on his face made her heart hurt.

  “Holy God.”

  Every piece of furniture had been smashed into pieces no bigger than kindling. They’d chopped up the shelves and scattered all the food and supplies around the kitchen, then apparently used the sink as a privy. The cookstove had huge dents in the side and the stovepipe was missing with ashes scattered around the room.

  The windows all had been cracked or broken. The stones in the fireplace were even hammered so the mortar was coming loose. Brett leaned down and picked up the shattered remnants of the wooden sign Jack had made. His knuckles turned white and she heard the wood creak. After Brett digested the sight of the wreckage he ran towards the bedroom, Alex hot on his heels.

  They’d written whore in manure on the walls, urinated on the mattress and chopped up the bed. All their clothes were in shreds and scattered on the floor. The second bedroom was in no better shape than the first.

  Everything was destroyed. Completely destroyed. Brett’s face turned to stone in front of her. She wrapped her arms around him and it felt like embracing a tree.

  “I’m so sorry, Brett,” she whispered against his shoulder.

  “Fucking bastard.”

  Alex didn’t say a word about his language. If she’d been pushed, she might have said something just as bad. Brett had been so proud of the house and in one act of violence, they’d shattered a piece of his heart.

  “We’ll get started cleaning it up.”

  He extracted himself from her arms and walked outside. She let him go, understanding he needed some private time to grieve over what they’d taken from him. She glared at the disgusting mess and silently cursed King Dawson for being such an animal. Then she headed for the barn to get Mason.

  Brett shook with anger. He had everything he could do not to scream at the top of his lungs in frustration. That bastard King had nothing better to do than destroy things. If he couldn’t have it then he broke it, just like a spoiled child.

  Alex had retrieved Mason and they started cleaning up the house. He could hear them throwing things into the wheelbarrow, more than likely the furniture Jack had made. Knowing Alex, she’d probably clean the shit and piss next. Being a doctor, cleanliness was of the utmost importance in her world.

  Brett stomped over to the well and started pumping the handle. What he really wanted to do was ride over to King’s ranch and use his fists instead. Son of a bitch, what a fucking mess.

  He brought a bucket of water in and grabbed the other tin bucket to pour it into. The stovepipe was missing so they’d have to start a fire outside to even heat water. He glanced at the wheelbarrow full of furniture pieces. Might as well get some use out of it.

  He built up enough stones to contain a fire, then added the pieces of wood. The fire was upwind from the house and far enough away to not be a danger. After the blaze was going, he shifted everything to put the pail on to heat.

  Alex kept looking out at him but didn’t speak or force him into conversation. She must have sensed he needed some time to himself to calm down. That’s something love gave them—understanding. After the first pail of water was hot, he brought it into the house and poured it into the wooden pail.

  He sent Mason out to tell Noah and Kincaid what was going on. Brett stood staring out over the land, wondering how to get out of the shit situation he’d gotten in with King. Brett didn’t ask for it, but he damn sure would finish it.

  Alex touched his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  He turned and gathered her in his arms. “I’m sorry they destroyed your clothes.”

  She snorted. “My clothes are the least of my worries. They nearly destroyed your house. It will take a week to get it livable.”

  “At least.”

  “I didn’t finish.” She hugged him tightly. “This was a personal attack on both of us and it’s because of me. It’s all because of me. The stampede, the house, all of it. King wants me and he doesn’t care who he hurts to get me.” She took a deep breath and blew it out shakily. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, honey.” He kissed her temple. “You didn’t do anything to be sorry for. That lousy excuse for a human being is trying to force us to do his bidding. The house isn’t a reason for you to give in.”

  “I won’t.”

  Her voice rang true and strong. Brett thanked God again for giving him a woman like Alex to love and be loved by in return. The sound of hoofbeats signaled Mason’s return. He stepped back and looked into her eyes. The words “I love you” danced on his tongue, but he couldn’t get them out.

  “I know,” she said with understanding in her eyes. “I love you, too.”

  With a quick kiss, he let her go and turned back to the fire. Looked like his plan to protect Alex didn’t work out too well. King had invaded his home.

  After Kincaid had come back for the night, Brett asked him to take a walk. They walked about five minutes from the house before Brett could speak. Kincaid stood and p
ut his hands on his hips, watching Brett as he paced. Ug sat beside him, whining softly.

  “You can’t protect her every minute.”

  “Yes, I can. I can. I just failed, again. How the hell can I expect her to marry me when some bastard keeps hurting her and I don’t stop it?” Brett’s voice broke on the last word as a fresh wave of anger hit him.

  Kincaid stopped him with a touch on his shoulder. “Take a breath there. You’re making me dizzy with all that pacing.”

  Brett threw Kincaid’s hand off. “I don’t really give a shit if you’re dizzy. I need to figure out how to stop this before Alex gets hurt again.”

  Kincaid rubbed his chin with his hand. “You might want to have more than just the two of us before you go hunting that big bastard.”

  He made a good point. King had dozens of men at his disposal, as evidenced by the half-dozen who stood guard at the gate alone. They needed stealth and smarts, two things Brett could not lay claim to at the moment.

  “In the morning, let’s go over to Ray’s house and make a plan.”

  Kincaid nodded and headed back toward the house. Ug licked Brett’s hand, apparently giving his approval, too. Brett hoped like hell he was right, because if his stupidity cost Alex her life, he’d never forgive himself.

  ———

  “I see you’re still living in this shit hole, darlin’.”

  King’s booming voice almost startled her clean out of her wits. Alex had been scrubbing the manure off the walls in the kitchen. She should have known he would show up sooner or later.

  She didn’t even look at him or her tone wouldn’t be calm. “You did enough damage yesterday. Are you happy to force me to live in a barn? Get off this ranch, King.”

  “I can’t do that. You see, you were supposed to marry me. Instead, you chose to get yourself hitched to that idiot Malloy. Not a wise choice, Alexandra.”

  His hand landed on her shoulder and she immediately stepped out of his grasp and kicked him in the shin. When he yelped in pain, she inwardly grinned.