Jackson had seen a lot of cold-blooded killers in his time, but this was different. Mainly because it wasn’t cold. The big guy had clearly savored his victim’s terror. More and more, Jackson was beginning to believe the big guy was Mac. It boggled his mind that Mimi had been shackled to him. Jackson couldn’t imagine Mimi’s optimistic, happy, nurturing self with a coldhearted brute like this.
Watching the big guy clean his knife on the dead man’s pants, it was too easy to imagine this man whipping Tony, terrifying Kevin, or abusing Melinda Sue.
In the aftermath of the massacre, men gradually wandered into the clearing, talking, joking, smoking, generally relaxed. Jackson counted ten in all. Mac didn’t travel light, but he also didn’t travel smart. This wasn’t Boston, where he controlled the authorities and repercussions were more predictable. Out here no one was safe. Especially after a gun battle. Gunshots attracted scavengers. Men who wanted to either profit from the death or profit from a body’s death. The one thing no one did after a gun battle was let down their guard.
Doing so was a greenhorn mistake. One that he and the others would be sure to take full advantage of. Seating his rifle in the saddle scabbard and grabbing extra bullets for his revolvers, Jackson started working his way down to the clearing, being careful to stay out of sight.
Even though he couldn’t see, he knew the exact moment Melinda Sue’s escape was discovered. The yelling was immediate, followed quickly by cursing. He assumed everyone was pointing the finger and assigning blame. The next step would be searching. He faded back into the brush. It was a fair bet Clint and Asa were doing the same.
Mac’s men fanned out in pursuit of the little girl. Jackson palmed his knife. This fight was going to be personal. Heading down into the ravine, he wove between the trees like a ghost.
The heat beat down on him as he worked his way through the woods. Around him, men called for Melinda Sue, utilizing endearments that ran the gamut from “honey” to “dear child” to “sweet thing.” It was a waste of time. Elijah had Melinda Sue safe. But it was kind of them to reveal their positions.
He came upon his first target. Jackson drew the knife across his throat, holding him tightly through the shock, and then eased him down as acceptance came.
Taking the dead man’s guns, he placed them quietly to the side. The knife he stuck in his own waistband. Stepping over the body, he continued on. One down, so many more to go. It was convenient for them to all show up like this. Some would say too convenient, but he believed the devil took care of his own. And if a man didn’t think too hard on whose side he was fighting, the job got done.
The big guy was like a bull lumbering through a china shop, making his way through the woods. The singsong voice he used to entice Melinda Sue out of hiding made Jackson’s skin crawl.
“Where are you, little girl? It’s me, Mac. You remember me, don’t you? I’ve come to save you.” His tone dropped to cajoling. “You were always my favorite, Melinda Sue.” There was a pause. Then, “I have those candies you like right here in my pocket.”
Bastard.
Jackson waited until the man passed before stepping up behind him. Jackson shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. “Hello, Mac.”
Mac spun around, hands out to his sides, looking for all the world like a big bear. “Who the fuck are you?”
“My name’s Jackson Montgomery.” He rolled up his right sleeve.
Mac spat to the side in contempt. “Get the hell out of here before I call my men.”
A squirrel chattered. A mourning dove sang.
Jackson smiled.
“Go ahead,” Jackson said encouragingly, rolling up his left sleeve. “Call them.”
Mac did. Nothing happened.
“You see.” Jackson smiled. “I have friends, too.”
He watched the understanding flicker in Mac’s eyes. Studied his change of position to a wide-legged, stooped crouch.
“Do you think I’m going to wrestle you?”
“A pretty boy like you wouldn’t stand a chance.” Spitting into his palm, Mac rubbed his hands together.
Jackson smiled. “So I’m told. No sense competing without a prize.” Reaching into his pocket, Jackson pulled out the necklace. Even in the dappled sunlight of the forest, it sparkled like happiness.
“That’s my necklace.”
“It’s mine now.”
“The hell it is.”
Jackson dropped the necklace into his pocket. “You want it? Come take it from me.”
With a growl, Mac lunged forward. Jackson held his ground, letting him charge, waiting until the last second to spin to the side and out of his path. Mac stumbled. Jackson followed him forward, bringing his elbow down in the middle of the spine just below his neck. Mac went down and rolled over, scrambling to his knees.
“How did that feel, Mac?” Jackson taunted. “Good? Bad? Has it been so long since you’ve lost a fight that you’ve forgotten what it feels like to lose? To be the mouse rather than the cat?”
Mac struggled to his feet. “I’ll show you who’s the cat.”
With a shake of his arm, Mac dropped a wicked-looking knife into his hand. Lunging forward, he drove it at Jackson’s stomach. Jackson barely evaded the strike. Mac was faster than his bulk would imply.
Tossing the knife from hand to hand, Mac growled, “Come here, you bastard.”
Those robin calls coming in succession were signals. From the count so far, there were two left at most. Clint and Asa could handle them. Mac was all his.
“Tell me something, Mac,” Jackson goaded, wanting the other man so mad he’d pop a blood vessel. “Do you also pull the wings off flies and boast about all the fights you’ve won when you get to the saloon?”
“Why don’t you come here and find out, pretty boy?”
Jackson smiled. He didn’t mind when men underestimated him because of his looks. “You like the way I look? Well, I’m sorry. You’re not my type.”
“I don’t like a goddamn thing about you. Give me my necklace!”
Keeping Mac in his sights, he took the necklace out of his pocket again and hung it on a tree branch to his left. “Come get it.”
Jackson didn’t think it was possible for the man’s face to get any redder. “Fuck you.”
He charged in again. Jackson danced back. As he’d told the boys, it wasn’t always size that mattered in a fight. Quickness, agility, and strategy often carried the day.
The fight was vicious but short. Mac never laid a hand on him. When Mac was panting and wheezing, Jackson kicked the knife out of his hand. It went sailing. The incredulity on Mac’s face as it landed in the bushes made him smile.
Jackson walked around him, balancing on the balls of his feet, ready for the lunge that was sure to come. Mac fought like a man who’d been in the city too long. His muscles had softened and turned to fat. He wouldn’t last long in this heat. He was already winded.
“How are you feeling?” Jackson taunted. “Getting scared, big man?”
“Who the hell are you?” Mac rasped.
“I told you. I’m Jackson Montgomery.”
“What do you want?”
“I came to settle the score.”
Breathing heavily, Mac wiped his brow and brushed aside the comment. “Give me my necklace.”
“Give me my vengeance,” Jackson snarled right back.
“For what?”
Jackson’s first punch landed in Mac’s stomach, sinking deep and doubling him over. “For Tony.”
The next punch caught him in a kidney. “For Kevin.”
The third he drove into the other kidney. “For Melinda Sue.”
The last blow went to his throat, crushing his windpipe. As the big man crumpled to the ground, eyes wide, trying to gasp for air that wasn’t ever going to come, Jackson looked him in the eyes. “For Mimi Banfield.
”
Mac jerked and grabbed his throat. His mouth worked and his chest heaved. His eyes bulged and his face shaded a ghastly blue. With complete dispassion, Jackson watched the life leave Mac’s body.
“We had time. You could’ve made him suffer more.”
Jackson turned to find Elijah surveying the dead man with his usual impassivity.
Untangling the necklace from the branch, Jackson shrugged. “I could’ve, but there’s only so much energy I’ve got to waste on that piece of shit.” He dropped the necklace in his pocket and buttoned it in. “Where’s Melinda Sue?”
“She’s bandaging Cougar’s boo-boo.”
Jackson raised his eyebrow. “I thought we sent Cougar home.”
Elijah shrugged. “When did Cougar ever follow orders? He dropped off your crew and pony expressed it back, switching horses on the fly to cut that three hours down to one and a half. Said he didn’t trust us to handle this.”
“How badly was he hurt?”
“A thorn scratched the back of his hand. Melinda Sue’s not buying his argument that it’s a long way from his heart.”
“She’s a character.”
“She’ll give Gray a run for his money.”
Those two together was a heck of a thought. “Jenna loves her.”
“Jenna loves all children.”
“It’s a shame she’ll never have any of her own.”
“I don’t think she sees any difference between adopted and her own. That woman is all heart. Like Nidia.”
Jackson had long suspected the taciturn Elijah was sweet on the former prostitute, now saloon owner. “Is Jenna still insisting on an open friendship?”
A small smile ghosted Elijah’s lips. “She refuses to listen to Nidia when she says that a friendship between them cannot be. That a former whorehouse owner and a respectable woman should not associate.”
“Nidia saved Brenna and Gray. Jenna will take the head off anyone who dares question her friendship with the woman who saved her children’s lives.”
“Tell Nidia that.”
“Why don’t you?”
The group’s debt to Nidia and Elijah was huge. Jackson handed the necklace to Elijah.
The other man dangled it off his fingers like he was holding a rattlesnake. The diamonds glittered and flashed. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Give it to Nidia.”
“What’s Nidia going to do with it?”
“Break it into pieces? Create a nest egg?”
Elijah waited.
“Buy some happiness?” Jackson asked.
“That woman is too damn scared to buy happiness.”
Jackson shrugged. “Maybe she needs somebody to teach it to her.”
Elijah tried to give it back. “This is Mimi’s and the kids’.”
“Mimi doesn’t want it.”
“She may change her mind.”
“She won’t, but if it worries you, I’ll ask her again.”
With a snort of exasperation, Clint walked up and glanced at the necklace. “We owe you for the Rev. And you owe her. Take this and call the debt settled.”
Elijah shook his head. “She’s going to call me something.”
Clint pushed his hand back. “You should marry her, you know.”
Elijah’s expression went cold. “I have a wife.”
“Had. She died.”
Elijah slammed the door on the conversation with a cold “Yeah, she did.”
Clint crooked his brow but let it go. With a wave, he indicated Jackson’s hands. “A bit pissed, were you?”
Jackson followed his gaze. The knuckles were bruised and split. “A little.”
“You could have spared your knuckles and just slit his throat.”
“I wanted him to know why he was dying.”
Elijah snorted. “You’ve always got to make it personal, Jackson.”
He shrugged. “Because it is.”
Elijah tucked the necklace into a pocket.
“You’ll give it to Nidia?” Jackson asked.
He nodded. “When the time is right.”
“What’s wrong with now?”
“She’d run.”
“She could go far away and start a new life for herself with that,” Clint interjected.
Elijah shook his head. “She needs to find herself here. Otherwise, she’ll spend her whole life running.”
Jackson and Clint shared a look. Elijah was definitely sweet on Nidia.
“What happened to Asa?” Jackson asked.
As if his name were an incantation, Asa stepped out of the woods, with several saddlebags slung over his shoulders.
Clint adjusted his black hat against the bright sun. “Thought we’d lost you.”
“I had business to take care of.”
“What kind of business?”
Asa dumped the saddlebags on the ground, separating out the expensive, elaborately tooled one.
“Mac’s?” Jackson asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t tell me there’s another book.”
Asa shook his head. “No.”
“What’s in there, then?”
Asa pulled out a piece of paper and waved it back and forth. “I think, gentlemen, this is what we commonly refer to as a key.”
* * *
• • •
There was one person Jackson had to see before he could relax. Leaving the others to clean up the site, he headed back to where they’d staked the horses. The strength of the sun hit him like a fist as soon as he stepped into the clearing by the remuda. Taking off his Stetson, he wiped his brow with his sleeve. Damn, it was hot. Lady whickered a greeting. Her bridle jangled as she tossed her head. Patting the side of her neck, he surveyed the camp.
Cougar was sitting down on a rock. Melinda Sue was standing in front of him in the remnants of her blue dress, the one she loved so much, holding his big, sloppily bandaged hand in her tiny ones and, from the sound of things, lecturing him about how he had to be more careful in the future.
Jackson took a breath. And then another. He’d thought she’d be traumatized by the experience, but it looked for all the world that she’d taken it in stride. He wished he could say the same.
Cougar nudged Melinda Sue’s arm and pointed. The little girl turned. For a moment she just stood there, a tattered princess bathed in sunlight, no words. No expressions.
Stepping away from the horses, Jackson smiled. “Hey there, sprout.”
She stared at him a minute more, unnaturally silent. Maybe two. Her lower lip started to quiver. Tears shimmered in her eyes, brimmed, and then overflowed. Poured down her cheeks. A sob jerked her body.
Son of a bitch.
Kneeling, he opened his arms. She ran into them, her mouth open on a silent scream of his name. He caught her up, holding her close, burying his face in her hair. Her tiny arms wrapped around his neck. Her tears dripped on his skin, each one tearing out his heart. Little girls shouldn’t know such fear. “Don’t cry, sprout.”
“You founded me,” she whispered, as if just saying it might make him disappear.
Squeezing her tightly, he gave her a hug. “I came lickety- split.”
She nodded. “They hurted Mimi.”
“I know. She’s all right.”
She rubbed her snotty nose on his shirt. Sticking her right arm out, Melinda Sue sniffed. “They hurted me, too.”
Three bruises in the shape of fingerprints marred the pale flesh of her forearm. Each one hurt his heart. She was so tiny. “I’m sorry.”
“Mr. Cougar said they’re deaded.”
“They are.” Her arm was still stuck out in front of him.
As if he were particularly slow, she instructed him from the vicinity of his neck, “You have to kiss them better.�
��
“Of course.” He dutifully kissed each mark. Over her shoulder, he could see Cougar’s smile. “There. All better?”
She nodded. Another tear dripped onto his chest.
“Then why the tears?”
There was a long silence before she confessed. “I was scared you wouldn’t come.”
Pulling back, he asked, “Why would you think that?”
“Because I was bad. I didn’t run like Mimi said.” The confession came out in a barely audible whisper.
Mimi’s words came back to haunt him. Until now, he hadn’t understood. She’s so very fragile.
“Sprout, look at me.”
Very slowly, she lifted her face. Tears left muddy tracks on her rosy cheeks. He wiped them away with the pad on his thumb. She sniffed again.
“Are you paying attention? Because this is very important.”
The remnants of her pigtails bounced as she nodded.
“I will never allow anyone to steal you away. Not ever, for any reason. You could be the baddest little girl in the whole wide world, and I would always find you. All you have to do is sit back and wait.”
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, leaving another smudge. “Even if I touched your knife on accident?”
He made a mental note to revisit the safety rules of the house. “No matter what.” He crossed his heart. “I promise.”
The tension seeped out of her body. Slumping forward, she popped her thumb in her mouth and snuggled into his chest. “Can we goes home now?”
Jackson stood, supporting her with a hand on her back and one under her hips. “You bet.”
Cougar gathered up his gear and looked at the sky. “Might want to wait until after we get some food and rest.”
Melinda Sue sucked her thumb and nodded. As Jackson attempted to set her up on Lady, she clung to him, squeezing his neck tightly as she whispered, “I love you, Mr. Jackson.”
Patting her back, he whispered right back. “I love you, too, sprout.”
Fifteen
The waiting was interminable. Mimi stood on the back porch of Jenna and Clint’s big house and watched the children playing hoops in the yard. Tony and Kevin were thrilled with the new game and determined to develop their skills, while Gray, Jenna and Clint’s adopted son, watched and gave advice.
Promises Decide Page 22
