“Laurie?”
Dutch squinted and cocked his head for a moment before finally nodding. “Oh, you mean your little girl? You want to see her too? I can arrange that if you tell me where you keep that stash of money of yours. The missus down there wasn’t too helpful.”
Joseph held his eyes shut as the fresh images of his wife coursed through him in an unwelcome torrent. He gnashed his teeth and clenched his fists, sapping nearly all the strength his body had left.
“She didn’t know anything,” Joseph snarled.
Dutch nodded and said, “I guessed as much. My boys may have had their fun, but there ain’t a woman alive who would keep quiet through all of that. If you’re more helpful, I might let you see that pretty little girl of yours.”
“It’s under the boards in my den,” Joseph said quickly. “Take it and go!”
Dutch threw a quick nod to his right. “Go get it, Georgie.”
As much as he wanted to pull his arms free, Joseph simply couldn’t. He felt like a damp sheet hanging from a line. “You…didn’t have to do all this.”
“Maybe not,” Dutch said. “But variety is the spice of life.”
George came out of the house with a strongbox under his arm. “I found the money, Dutch.”
“Now show me my daughter, you bastard!” Joseph shouted.
“You want to see her, Mister Van Meter?”
In the few times he’d wondered what hell was like, Joseph had never even considered anything this bad. The possibilities that raced through his mind only got worse the longer he thought about what his family had endured.
“I think he does want to see her,” Dutch finally said. “Go on and show him.”
This time, Joseph’s head was twisted in the other direction. The sharpness of the movement sent a warm pain through his neck, which he felt as much as a raindrop was felt against the surface of an ocean.
The girl’s eyes were blackened, but they were open and alive. Her entire body shook as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“You see?” Dutch said. “I’m not such a bad fellow. I waited around all this time to see if you’d wake up just to make certain you’d have something to watch.” With that, Dutch looked to one of the gunmen and nodded.
The sound of a hammer being cocked back echoed through Joseph’s ears. From the corner of his eye, he saw the gun. Since he didn’t have the strength to fight, he savored the sight of his daughter’s face one more time. Forcing the last bit of fortitude into his voice, Joseph told her, “Close your eyes, sweetie.”
TEN
When Joseph’s senses slowly leaked back into him, he could still smell burning wood. The scent of blood was still in his nose and his stomach was still knotted in the tight grip of panic and rage. Something touched his forehead and when he tried to bat it away, he felt practically every bone in his body cry for mercy.
“Take it easy,” a voice told him. “Lie back and try to—”
But Joseph would have none of it and desperately tried to silence whoever it was that had spoken to him.
“Nick! He’s awake! I need your help!”
The door to the little cabin swung open and heavy steps pounded against the floor. Soon another shape came into Joseph’s view, and it was enough to get him to stop struggling for a second.
Holding Joseph’s arms against the bed, Nick looked down at him and nodded. “He sure is coming around. Feels like he’s got some of his strength back, to boot.”
“Where am I?” Joseph snarled.
“You’re in my home and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to punch my wife.”
Joseph stopped struggling so he could take a better look around. His first glimpse told him he was in a cabin. As his vision cleared, he saw the woman looking over Nick’s shoulder. She was smiling warmly and had her thick black hair tied behind her head.
“Nicolai?” Joseph asked.
“I’m flattered you remember. You can call me Nick. This is my wife, Catherine.”
Looking back to the brunette, Joseph said, “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m just glad you missed.”
All Joseph could manage was a shaky grin, but that only lasted for a heartbeat. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t even get halfway before a flood of pain brought him down again. A gentle hand pressed down upon his chest to keep him from making another attempt.
“Not just yet,” Catherine said.
“How long have I been here?”
“The better part of a week.” Furrowing her brow, Catherine bit on her lower lip. “Actually it’s been just over a week. It sure does feel a lot longer than that since you were brought in here. I stitched you all up, and you didn’t wake up for more than a few minutes of it.”
Joseph slowly brushed his fingers along the most painful spots and reached up to touch his left temple. The moment his fingertip grazed that part of his head, he thought his skull was going to crack open.
“Easy, there,” Catherine said. “That wound’s still a little tender.”
“I…don’t remember how this happened,” Joseph muttered.
“My guess is that was the shot that was supposed to put you down for good. Seems like you had an angel looking over your shoulder who had other plans.”
Gritting his teeth, Joseph lowered his hand said, “Feels like you did a good job on the stitches.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Nick brought me here?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Because you were still alive and he wanted you to stay that way. He drove you here on the back of his wagon and we’ve been taking care of you ever since.”
“What about those sons of bitches that…” Joseph couldn’t even finish his question before the rage swelled up to fill the back of his throat.
“They’re gone,” Catherine said gently. Before she could say any more, the front door swung open again and Nick’s voice drifted through the cabin.
“Can you help him sit up?” Nick asked.
Grudgingly, Catherine slid an arm behind Joseph’s shoulders. “You’re going to have to help me a bit,” she said. “I’m almost as tired as you right about now.”
Joseph let out a breath and strained to make her work a bit easier. Even after a pillow was slipped behind him, Joseph barely had enough willpower to open his eyes. “You should have left me where I was.”
“Don’t say that,” Nick told him. “At least, not until you see who I’ve got with me.”
Looking through the slits of his eyes, Joseph saw a small figure stepping around from behind Nick’s tall silhouette. That was all he needed to snap his eyes fully open and nearly get him jumping off the bed. “Sam? Is that you?”
The little boy rushed to his father and hugged him desperately. Despite the pain caused by those slender arms wrapped around him, Joseph was happier than he’d ever thought he could be. Just the smell of the eight-year-old’s hair was enough to make him let out a joyous sigh.
“I thought I wasn’t…I…I’m so glad to see you, son.”
“Me too, Daddy.”
With his son’s face pressed against him, Joseph looked across the room at Nick. Just as he was about to ask a question, he saw Nick shake his head and start to walk away. Joseph was more than glad to spend some time with Sam. It didn’t matter much what else had come before.
Nick stepped outside and shut the door behind him. A few paces away, Catherine leaned against the narrow wagon that carried Nick’s tools when it wasn’t carrying one of the caskets or headstones he’d created. A hot breeze blew stray wisps of hair into her face and she brushed them back.
“What happens to them now?” she asked.
Nick glanced over his shoulder at the cabin as if he could see right through it. It wasn’t as big as some of the houses in town, but it was home and he’d put it together with his own hands. When he turned back around, he saw Catherine and the wagon outlined against the wide stretch of hills.
He shr
ugged and walked over to her. Placing his hands on her hips, he said, “I don’t really know. To be honest, I was expecting to bury him.”
“Is that why you tried to keep the boy from his bedside?”
“I guess.”
“And here I thought you had some grand design in mind when you dragged him here. You seemed so certain that we didn’t bring a doctor. Was that just so I could practice my sewing skills?”
“Between the two of us, we’ve got more than enough experience with dressing up bullet wounds. Besides, you did a fine job.”
Catherine’s smile lasted for all of two seconds. After that, she fixed him with a glare that was almost enough to back Nick off completely. “That man in there almost died. Could you have that on your conscience?”
“I’ve got a lot worse.”
“What about the law? Shouldn’t they know Mister Van Meter is here?”
“They knew about the men riding to his ranch,” Nick snarled as he pulled himself away from her and braced both arms against the side of the wagon. “And what did they do about it? Not a goddamn thing!”
Catherine scowled and then glared toward the cabin.
Continuing in a lower voice, Nick said, “Those riders came here knowing full well what they were going to do. Those smug bastards took their sweet time in taking that place apart, which might mean they’ve got some of those lawmen in their pocket.
“I went to see Sheriff Stilson after the fire. He told me most of the ranch hands were at The Wheelbarrow that night. They’re the ones who told him that everything was fine and that they didn’t see anyone riding out to Mister Van Meter’s. Even if that does rule out him being crooked, it just means he’s either stupid or gullible. Either way, Stilson’s as useless as tits on a bull.”
“He’s been asking for you, you know.”
“Who has?”
“Stilson,” Catherine replied. “He asked me about you yesterday and then again today.”
“What’s he want?”
“I don’t know, Nick. Now that you’ve cooled off a bit, you can go see for yourself what he wants. After all we’ve been through, we don’t need any trouble with the law. You’ve been working so hard lately, I hardly even get a chance to see you.”
Hearing the genuine concern in Catherine’s voice cut right down to the center of Nick’s soul. When he looked into her face and found her smiling hopefully at him, he wrapped an arm around her and drew her in close. After giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he nestled his face in her hair and kept it there.
“You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to,” he said. “You might even be better off somewhere else.”
“So you keep telling me. But I just don’t listen. Does that make me stupid or gullible?”
Nick laughed and held onto her even tighter. “It makes you the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Then don’t be so quick to invite me to leave.”
“After what happened to Van Meter, I’ve been thinking…” Nick sucked in a breath. “Maybe I should make an honest woman out of you.”
“Too late for that,” she scoffed.
“I’m serious. We got married so quickly that it hardly seemed to happen. We should have a bigger ceremony. Maybe even throw a party.”
“You’ve had your chance, Nicolai Graves. Besides, I may not be ready to go through all that fuss just so we can come back to the same home and live the same way we have been living.” Placing her hand against his cheek, she added, “Our life is just fine. Don’t think for one moment that I consider it to be otherwise. I would like to wear our rings, though.”
“I know,” Nick said as he winced to himself. “It’s just that I’m barely able to draw any attention to myself anymore. The sort of men that have come after me would start looking for you the minute they spotted that ring on my finger. I just can’t bear the thought of that happening.”
“I’d risk it.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “And now that that’s settled, how about getting back to my first question? What are we going to do with Mister Van Meter and that sweet little boy of his?”
“The night of that fire might have been the worst of it, but it wasn’t the end. Those killers are moving along to their next job as we speak. Believe that.”
“How do you know for certain?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve had some experience in these matters,” Nick said.
“I haven’t forgotten. Whatever you did in the past, you weren’t half as bad as those men who killed Joseph’s family.”
Nick’s face may have been pointed in Catherine’s direction, but he wasn’t seeing her anymore. His eyes took on a faraway look as his ears filled with the gunshots and screams from his memories. “We were killers,” he said softly. “One’s just as bad as another.”
Blinking, Nick snapped himself back to the present. He walked around to the back of the wagon and ran his hands along its gritty floor. “We were a gang just like those killers at the Van Meter place.”
“You’re not like those men, Nick,” Catherine said vehemently. “Not anymore.”
“Maybe you don’t want to think about me that way. Actually, I’d be grateful if you didn’t. Still, I could tell what they were doing, Catherine, just like it was something my gang might have done back when I was a dumb-shit kid. They were there to leave their mark. It’s not the first time anyone’s done such a thing.”
When she heard those words, Catherine rubbed his back as if she’d gotten a real good idea of what particular ghosts were haunting Nick at the moment. The muscles under his skin grew taut. “You weren’t the only gang out there, you know. Not every death from those times falls on your shoulders.”
He nodded but didn’t look at her.
“They found what they were after and left,” Catherine said. “They almost killed him with that shot to his head, so there’s no reason for them to come back.”
“You’re right. Joseph and his boy are both damn lucky to have survived that night. After that, they should be able to pull through just about anything.”
“So would you mind if I brought the doctor over here tomorrow?”
“Give it a few more days,” Nick replied. “Something tells me we should wait until we know those men are long gone. I’ll feel much better once I go and have a word with the sheriff. After that, I should be able to figure out if he knew about what was headed for that ranch.”
“Why would Sheriff Stilson be in on a thing like that?”
Nick laughed under his breath. “You’d be surprised. I don’t know how, but things could get worse if we’re not careful.”
“You’re worrying so much,” Catherine whispered into his ear. “I haven’t even seen you for more than an hour or two at a stretch since you brought those two back here. Little Sammy even missed you.”
That brought a grin to Nick’s face. “You should have seen how he latched onto me when I found him. I thought he might tear my leg off.” His grin quickly faded as his eyes narrowed into fiery slits. “I should have stopped this before that boy lost his mother and sister. Before Joseph lost his daughter and wife.”
Catherine glared at him with an intensity in her eyes that brought Nick back from the dark place he was headed. “You did the best you could, Nick. You risked your life to save those two. What happened wasn’t your fault, so stop griping about it. In fact, you did more than anyone else around here.”
“I only hope it was enough.”
ELEVEN
Nick rode into town the next day earlier than usual. The sky was still dark, but it was so close to dawn that he could feel it in the air. After arriving at his shop, he unhitched Kazys and filled the horse’s trough. From there, it was a series of little tasks that were so engrained in him that he barely even had to think to do them. That was a good thing, because there were plenty of other matters to occupy his mind.
First and foremost, he struggled with
the notion of opening his parlor while wearing a gun under his long black jacket. The holster was as weathered as his own skin and moved like a part of his body with every step. And even though he’d worn that gun for the last several years, he felt its weight now more than ever.
Oddly enough, Catherine hadn’t been the one to get him to stop wearing the gun during business hours. After everything they’d been through together, she took comfort from knowing he wasn’t at anyone’s mercy just on account of pleasing a few customers. Nick saw the move to California as a fresh start in more ways than one. Earnestly plying his trade instead of hiding behind it was just the beginning.
Nick pulled open the curtains of his front window, straightened his display and took a vase from its small stand. He placed fresh flowers in it as usual and put it back in its normal spot behind the samples of his carving and masonry work. At that moment, having the gun at his side seemed almost ridiculous.
Nick looked around the small parlor and made sure it was ready to open. There wasn’t a service planned, so the chairs in the largest of the rooms were not set up and the large rectangular table at the back of the room was empty, apart from a clean white cloth.
A smaller room filled with glass-topped counters was close to the front entranceway. Nick went in there to dust off the counters and take a quick count of the merchandise inside them. Beneath the glass was a wide variety of wares ranging from picture frames and samples of invitations to small Bibles, each roughly the size of a cigarette case. Nick walked behind a counter, opened it up and removed one of them. He tucked it into an inner pocket and headed for the front door.
Nick stepped out of the parlor and locked the door behind him. A few locals were walking along the street, and one of them nodded in Nick’s direction. Nick returned the gesture, while making sure his jacket didn’t open far enough to reveal the holster strapped around his waist. Taking his time to soak in the morning air, he rounded the corner and kept walking until he arrived at Sheriff Stilson’s office.
The bit of queasiness in Nick’s belly was a reflex that had been developed in his youth and nurtured during his years of raising hell. To this day, he still felt it when he got too close to that many lawmen gathered in one place. Doing his best to look the part he was playing, Nick eased the sheriff’s door open and poked his head inside.
Man From Boot Hill Page 6
