by Sandra Jones
“No!” he cried. “I would never shoot anyone.”
He was stronger than she was, and his force on her arm bit straight to the bone, making her let go. He turned the gun, aiming it at her chest so she felt the metal through her clothing.
“I can’t…I can’t live without Millie,” he sobbed. “Please Cora, you’ve got to tell her it’s okay.” He broke into tears and moved the gun away from her.
Relief flooded through her as Ray’s head lolled forward, coming to rest on her shoulder. He was lovesick, not crazy. There was no way this man was the deputy’s killer.
She sighed raggedly, touching his shoulder. “It’ll be fine. I’ll talk to her, but you’ve got to tell Estelle first. Let her down easy.” She rubbed his arm comfortingly, surreptitiously retrieving the pistol from his limp grip. “Don’t you worry. If you love Millie, and she tells me she loves you too, there’s nothing that’ll stand in your way. Do you two honestly think me such a tyrant I wouldn’t let you be together?” She bit the inside of her lip, wondering if Millie reciprocated the mayor’s feelings. She’d never seen it before, but then again, Millie was extremely devoted to her and very private with her emotions. It was possible…
“No, Cora. She…we both like you. Christ, even my wife and half the town likes you. This week’s been hell on me. Everyone keeps coming by, asking me to have the sheriff release you. I’m so sick of trying to do what’s best for Fort McNamara. First, they wanted the club closed, and now they want it to stay open. Nobody can live up to their expectations.”
Nor could they allow a mayor to keep a bordello mistress. No wonder Ray was having such a hard time. “I think you need a drink.” She slid her hand in the crook of his elbow. Perhaps they could slip into the saloon and find a quiet corner with most of the town at the Willows tonight.
Yes, a drink for him, and then she could go check on Kit. She prayed it wouldn’t be too late.
Chapter Sixteen
Kit rounded the corner of the livery, saddened by Judge Murtagh’s approach in the darkened street. Apparently, Cora’s threatening letter had worked, otherwise the man would be at home, entertaining his wife’s dinner guests. The message left no room for misinterpretation.
I know you killed Jim Hazen and why you did it.
Bring $2000 to the front of the mercantile tonight after sundown or I’ll tell everyone your secret.
Kit lifted the lantern in his left hand, illuminating the grim-faced judge in a signal he’d planned with Jupiter to notify the deputy of the older man’s arrival. If all went well, Murtagh would answer Kit’s questions, either admitting or denying his guilt in killing Hazen. If things didn’t go well, Jupiter sat perched in the window of the hay loft ready with a rifle if needed—though Kit seldom required any help in that respect. When it came time to face an opponent’s gun, he was always the last man standing.
Now if only he could be sure the judge was telling the truth.
Murtagh halted, eyes widening. “Christopher Wainwright? I never expected you to send me a threat,” he barked. His chest puffed with indignation, pulling tight the vest he wore over a white shirt. He wore no coat to hide the gun strapped on his hip, an old army-issued Colt Paterson revolver. His wise gaze traveled down the street, then up the building to where Jupiter was hiding.
The darkened loft provided ample cover for a lookout. Nevertheless, Kit flexed his fingers in anticipation, preparing to draw if necessary. “Did you bring the money?”
He squelched a sense of guilt at involving Jupiter. Being new to town, Kit only trusted him with the important endeavor, being as the young man was brave enough to do whatever it took to help Cora.
“You think I don’t have any sense?” Murtagh spit on the ground. “Why would I give you two thousand dollars?”
“You don’t want me tellin’ your wife that you had a child with a prostitute.”
Murtagh took his pocket watch out and checked the time. Stalling, Kit figured, in an attempt to make him nervous. “Where’d you hear a thing like that, son? Did your uncle tell you that? Sounds like a gossipmonger’s had your ear.”
“Oh, I know it’s the truth. I have proof.”
The judge returned his watch to his pocket, his slow movement putting his hand above the grip of his weapon. “What proof?”
“A witness. One who’s still alive to tell the tale.”
Murtagh stiffened, registering his caution now that he knew someone else was involved who might be watching him at that moment. “There isn’t a witness because there isn’t a child. My wife is the love of my life, and we never had a baby.”
“When you were in the army, your regiment frequently visited the Row.”
“So now you’re after my money? I thought you said you owed me a debt.”
He heard resignation in the judge’s tone, no longer denying the child. Disappointment weighed heavily on Kit and burdened his conscience. Perhaps there was still a chance of the man’s innocence. Reluctantly, he continued with his plan. “I did you a favor, Murtagh. I became this town’s sheriff. Now just like Sheriff Sidlow before me, I’m privy to your secret. You’ll pay me or else.”
Murtagh took a deep breath but didn’t deny Kit’s speculation about Sidlow. “Pay you and then wonder who’ll be next? Hell, no. I’ll pay you when you kill your witness.”
Kit blinked, certain he’d misunderstood. Recollecting himself, he put on a cool grin. “That’s my insurance. If you kill me, they’ll kill you.”
“Not if I do business with them instead.”
The judge went for his gun, but Kit, lightning fast, had his out first. Then Jupiter’s rifle fired a bullet into the dirt beside Murtagh’s feet.
“All right, you bastards.” The judge lifted his hands in the air. “My money’s in my vest pocket.”
Keeping his Colt on the judge, he set the lantern behind him and took the man’s weapon. “Keep your damned money, Murtagh. Maybe you can share it with your new neighbors in prison.”
“Goddammit, Wainwright. You know it would kill my wife if she knew about that whore. We were preparing for our wedding when that woman became pregnant.”
Kit retrieved the lantern and gestured for the judge to turn around.
It was over. Thank God.
Waiting for Jupiter to join them, he prompted Murtagh to answer more questions. “How much did Hazen ask for before you shot him?”
“Hazen? What makes you think I shot him?”
“Don’t play dumb. You wanted me to kill someone on your behalf and then you would’ve shot me. Of course, you killed the last man who knew your secret and threatened to share it.”
The judge worked his jaws as if he wanted to strangle him. “A thousand. Wouldn’t have mattered if he’d asked for ten dollars. I wouldn’t have paid a cent. Riffraff like you are better off dead. You’re all replaceable. There ain’t any difference between a lawman and an outlaw except the metal on your chest.”
“I’m sorry for your wife and her health, but you shoulda thought about who you’d hurt by lying all these years. The prostitute and the child too.”
“That baby became another damned whore.” He laughed. “I’ve never set eyes on her, but if I did, I’d hang her too. If it hadn’t been me conceiving the bastard, some other man would’ve fathered it. Your uncle, probably. He was in love with the same whore before my regiment had her.”
Cold sweat broke across Kit’s forehead. His uncle had been in love with a prostitute? Could it be true? He wanted to press Murtagh for more, but Jupiter was here now.
“What shall we do with him, Sheriff?”
His mood lifted. He handed the judge’s revolver to Jupiter, who stuck it safely under his belt. “I think we have a cell that’s about to be vacant.” His questions could wait, his heart couldn’t.
They marched Murtagh to the stone building. Unable to resist, he called out to Cora, “Are you decent? I’ve brought
a guest, darlin’.”
There was no answer from the cell. Odd. He’d expected her to be waiting at the window, watching to see if all was well.
He rounded the corner of the building. The cell door stood ajar, the chain and lock lying in the street. Shock jolted through him.
“Cora?” he called and swung the lantern inside the jail. The room was empty save for her bed.
“Sheriff!”
He swung around at the sound of Jupiter’s cry. His mind on Cora, he didn’t see Murtagh pushing the deputy at him until it was too late. Unable to fire his weapon without shooting Jupiter, he couldn’t prevent Murtagh from retrieving his weapon from Jupiter’s belt. The gun fired, and the bullet struck the young man’s leg.
As Jupiter crumbled to the ground, Kit fired at Murtagh, but the tough old judge fired again.
The bullet seared through Kit’s right arm. White-hot pain caused his grip to loosen. The gun dropped to the ground as fire poured through his muscle and tissue.
“Kit!” Horrified by the sounds of gunfire, Cora bolted from the empty saloon where she and the mayor sat. Dear God, she’d only gone inside for a moment, intending to pacify Ray with whiskey before coming back. But it was too late, things were already happening. Terrible things from the sound of it.
Outside the jail cell, Kit stood in front of Harvey Murtagh’s gun. Jupiter sat on the ground hugging his leg.
She whipped out her pistol and started down the street for them. “Murtagh, drop that gun!”
He gave her a minute glance, keeping one eye on Kit. “You gonna shoot me like you did Sidlow? You did me a favor that night when you pulled the trigger on that bastard. Did you know that, gal?”
Jupiter reached for a rifle on the ground, but the judge kicked it away.
She stiffened. “Let them go, Murtagh. There’s no way you can kill all three of us.” Dear God. Just as Kit had suspected, the judge had murdered Deputy Hazen.
Kit raised his hands in surrender and rivulets of blood ran down his right arm.
Her stomach squeezed. Don’t look at him. She had to be strong and not worry about Kit. One glance into his eyes, and she’d surely cry.
So the judge didn’t think she had it in her? She took a step closer, spread her feet and aimed with arms outstretched the way Kit had taught her. Then she pulled the trigger.
Crack. The blast sent dirt everywhere. She was too far away.
Murtagh chuckled and swung his firearm in her direction. “Dumb bitch. Just like the rest of those whores.”
She heard the mayor walking up behind her. Ray was unarmed, unable to help. She alone had to stop the judge from killing anyone else. Body trembling, she took three steps closer, bravely aiming for the man’s chest this time.
Murtagh’s eyes rounded with surprise, apparently not expecting her confidence, and his brief astonishment gave her the time she needed to cock the hammer and fire again.
Crack. The judge’s gun echoed hers in a final blast as he went down, but Ray knocked her off her feet with a timely shove. She dropped the gun from the impact of the fall.
“Christ!” The judge groaned.
She pushed herself up one elbow, scrambling to reach her weapon.
But Kit stepped between her and the judge just as the older man lifted his Colt again. She caught the glint of a weapon in Kit’s left hand. “You didn’t do my uncle any favor,” he said quietly, staring down the barrel of Murtagh’s gun as they aimed at each other. “He owed you a debt because you broke his heart. I realize that now. You were his best friend, and you got the woman he loved pregnant. Then you convinced him he was better off leaving town than marrying her. He hated you for it, and now I understand his dying wish. He sent me back here to finish his business with you.”
Cora grabbed her pistol and rolled up on her knees, ready to shoot at the judge again. She couldn’t make out where her bullet had caught the man, but he favored his side as he continued to stare at Kit.
“That’s right, son. And I’m not ashamed of it. He was better off without her. She was nothing but a whore, and I proved it to him. She took my money just like she’d have taken any other man’s. Just like that whore behind you.”
Kit shook his head. “Uncle Bart loved that woman. What you did was wrong.”
On her feet now, Cora moved to Kit’s right side, keeping her sights on Murtagh. “You could’ve acknowledged your daughter, Judge. Millie’s a smart, talented woman, but you’ve never given her a moment of your time.”
A smile slid over Murtagh’s mouth. He looked between the two of them. “Go on and put a bullet in my heart, Wainwright. Settle that debt of old Bart’s. I’m as good as dead now to my wife anyhow.” He opened his hand and let his gun fall.
Kit’s aim tracked down the judge’s chest, ready to do just that.
Leaning close to Kit, she touched his shoulder and felt the tremors coursing through him—the rage and pain he’d banked, allowing no one to see his emotions. He’d loved his uncle dearly and had witnessed the old man suffering for years, grieving for this lost love over the decades. Of course he wanted to avenge his uncle. But would he?
He’d said he always wanted to kill. Always desired to just squeeze the trigger.
She felt Kit shudder, and then he lowered his Colt. “Not this time.” He shook his head and kicked the judge’s discarded gun away. Letting the bastard live was more punishment than killing him.
Murtagh scowled and glanced at her. “Oh, for God’s sake! You do it, Cora Reilly. Velvet Grace. Or whoever you want to call yourself. You got more balls than half the town. Just shoot me.” His voice was raw and desperate.
“Are you trying to sentence yourself, Judge?” Cora scoffed. “Your wife is ill. If you’re alive, at least she’ll have that comfort.”
“Comfort?” he grumbled. “How would you know what my wife would find comforting?”
Jupiter limped over and collected his rifle while Murtagh continued to gape at her, incredulous.
“Because I know what it means to love someone,” she mumbled.
Feeling Kit’s stare as they moved their prisoner to the jail cell, she turned her head, her face heating.
She’d said too much.
After putting the lock and chain on the building with Murtagh safely inside, the four of them headed toward the Willows since it was nearby. She kept plenty of medical ointments and supplies on hand, and the town doctor was likely already there, enjoying the party’s entertainment.
“How’s your arm?” she asked Kit quietly, carrying the lantern while they walked behind Jupiter. Her friend hobbled slowly with the mayor’s assistance.
“Not too bad. I can move my fingers still. That’s all a man could ask for.”
When Kit’s hand caught hers and laced their fingers between them, her heart gave a solid wallop. She stopped, felt his gentle tug on her arm and let him haul her into his embrace. The others went ahead, leaving them to talk alone.
“How did you get out of jail? Where were you?” His lips moved against her forehead as he spoke before kissing her there. “You frightened me to death.”
“Ray came by. He wasn’t himself. He’s troubled over Millie. I’ll explain later.” She buried her face against his chest, clinging to the support he offered and sinking deeper still when he took a long breath. His hands made broad strokes up and down her back as he murmured something incoherent against her hair.
No matter. Coming so close to losing him had scared her so much she refused to hide her feelings any longer.
Lifting her chin and along with the lantern, she made certain he could see her face. Then abandoning caution, she whispered, “I love you, Christopher Wainwright.”
Chapter Seventeen
Kit slipped inside the bedroom’s secret door, closed it and removed his hat. Unfortunately, Cora wasn’t still in bed as he’d hoped. Instead, fully dressed, sh
e bent over something she was writing in the morning sunshine.
“You’ll have to be much quieter if you’re trying to sneak up on me through my own door.”
He hung his hat on her wardrobe door and grinned, recognizing the amusement in her voice. Coming up behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders and bent down to kiss her soft neck. “It would’ve worked if you’d been sleeping. You snore loud enough to block the sound of a train.” He caught a whiff of sunshine in her hair and longed to pull it down from its pins and run his fingers through its silken perfection. He’d never tire of her.
She slanted her head to the side, pinning him with an icy glare. “At least you’re usually asleep before I am. Is my snoring really so awful?”
“Intolerable,” he teased.
“Why do you put up with it then?” She turned around, folded her arms gracefully over the back of her chair and watched him with a gleam of challenge in her eyes.
Because I love you. He couldn’t seem to find the words to say it right, so he didn’t say it at all. “I get plenty of sleep in the courthouse.”
She wrinkled her nose at the lie. They’d both been working harder than ever these past two weeks since Murtagh’s arrest. The courthouse prison was full, waiting on the arrival of the replacement judge from Little Rock, and to prevent further lawlessness, Kit had been spending his days and many nights in town.
He removed his gun holster and draped it over one bedpost. “I told Deputy Buchanan that I’m going to the ranch in two days.”
“Oh. Really?”
“Just staying long enough to get the cattle settled. I’ve hired a few hands to help Ben.”
“That’s good.” A line appeared between her eyes.
He ached to make her smile again and forget whatever was troubling her. “I thought maybe you’d come with me.”
She brightened for a brief second and then frowned. “I want to, but…” She nodded at the pile of letters on her desk.
After the mayor’s wife agreed to a divorce, Thorntree had resigned from his office, leaving nothing standing in the way of his courting Millie. Cora had agreed to help, filling in for him until a new mayor was elected.
