by Linda Broday
“That’s a matter of opinion. Get off my land.” Rand itched to draw his weapon but knew Fleming would gun him down before he cleared leather. He narrowed his eyes, watching, waiting.
“In my own good time.” The outlaw jerked Rand’s Colt from the holster and flung it.
“There’s nothing for you here, Fleming.”
The glittering eyes hardened. Nate lifted his pistol and pressed the black barrel into Rand’s cheek. “Here’s the thing. I’m willing to be reasonable. Give me my son and the worthless woman, and I’ll let you live.”
“Afraid I can’t do that. The woman is my wife, and Toby is my son now. He doesn’t want any part of you. You see, I know how to treat a boy. Fear and abuse have no place in my house.”
“You’ve turned him against me. If not for your lies, Toby would run to me.”
“You’re crazy. You’ve lost, Fleming. Now get off my damn land.”
“I got ways to make you reconsider.”
White hot anger swept through Rand. “I’ll never turn Callie and Toby over to you.”
“Are you sure you have the heart for this battle?”
“I have plenty of heart. Soul too, and my spirit is steadfast. It’s your thinking that’s flawed.”
“How’s that, sodbuster? You call yourself a rancher, but you don’t have anything but one measly milk cow.”
Rand ignored the attempt to goad him. “You’ve never gone up against a man like me, Fleming. I’m one who won’t lose, one who will fight to hell and beyond to protect the people he loves. One who intends to put you where you’ll never hurt anyone again.”
Just then, a skirted figure came up behind the outlaw. Cold sweat broke out on Rand’s forehead. Why hadn’t Callie stayed in the house?
“You should listen to my husband, Nate,” Callie said, jerking the lever of the Winchester down and up like an expert.
Fleming’s eyes widened a little as he angled to face her. His finger tightened on the trigger.
“We’re not afraid of you,” Callie said, “so toss your six-shooter to the side.”
Rand stood transfixed, praying that Fleming wouldn’t knock the rifle from her hands.
Sweat trickled into Nate’s eye. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. “If you want it, girl, you’re gonna have to come get it. I know you don’t have the stomach to shoot.”
She reached behind her and pulled the door shut to keep any of Nate’s allies from being able to get the jump on her. “That’s where you’re wrong. I have a lot to avenge. Though I can’t prove it, I know with all my heart you killed my sister.”
With Fleming’s attention occupied, Rand waited for an opening. If only he could grab the outlaw’s gun. At least he’d removed his weapon from Rand’s face. Angling his body in order to keep an eye on them both, Fleming kept his pistol leveled on Rand. “I have your daughter, worthless woman. You’ll never see her if you shoot me,” Nate spat with an ugly sneer.
Rand watched Callie’s knees give way as pain crossed her face. “Don’t listen, darlin’. He’ll say anything to get you rattled.”
His voice seemed to bolster her. The Winchester wavered a little before she regained her grip. “You’re lying. I don’t believe you.”
“She’s a cute little girl. Looks just like you. Gonna be real pretty like her mama. She’s seven years old now. Sweet little Mariah. We’ve gotten real acquainted—’course, we’re just gettin’ started. Claire used to tell me the sad story. The way she caterwauled, you’d think the whelp belonged to her. Didn’t take any doin’ to find Mariah. Once I stuck my gun in that weasel Edmund Powers’s face, he was real quick to spill his guts. So was his son, David, right after he wet his pants. After I killed them both, I sent my brother Virgil to fetch her from the old lady. She’s outside now.” Fleming’s eyes glittered with a strange excitement.
Callie’s whimper sent chills up Rand’s spine. He knew that Nate had too many facts for it to be a bluff. “You lay a finger on her child, and I’ll make you wish you were never born,” Rand threatened softly. “Shoot him, Callie. Don’t worry about me. Make it count.”
“You oughta know that my brothers are nearby watching. Never fear, Callie. I’ll break Mariah in real slow,” Nate snarled.
Rage darkened Callie’s eyes. Rand could see that she was beyond reasoning. Without another word, she squeezed the trigger. The bullet caught Nate’s arm as he swiveled. The blast sent the outlaw’s gun flying.
Rand lunged, grabbing Nate around the neck. The two went down, rolling over and over until they ended up against the grain bin. Rand absorbed vicious blows to the face. Even though he tasted blood in his mouth, he slammed his fists into Nate Fleming’s jaw.
A normal man would’ve stayed down, but not one eaten up with hate and the need to kill. Fleming scrambled to his feet with fists raised. Rand lowered his shoulder and drove into the man’s stomach, propelling him backward.
Grappling with the wily adversary, Rand kept swinging. When he knocked Fleming to the ground, Rand sprang toward his Colt, which lay three feet away, straining to reach it. Grabbing his legs, Fleming yanked him back.
Rand swiveled, gouging his eyes. Delivering a harsh uppercut, he threw the man face down onto the dirt floor.
Just as he crawled onto Nate’s back and yanked his opponent’s arms behind him, Nate yelled, “They’ve got me! You know what to do.”
Shots instantly rang out from beyond the barn, peppering into the new wood.
“Release my brother if you know what’s good for you,” a voice yelled. “The girl dies if you don’t.”
“Ow, let me go! You’re hurting me,” cried a young girl.
Rand froze. It had to be Callie’s daughter. Slowly, he released the outlaw and stood. He had no choice. Nate held all the cards.
For the moment.
That didn’t mean Rand was giving up. His mind was working. He’d made a solemn promise, and nothing short of death would allow him to break it.
Twenty-seven
The sound of Rand’s and Nate’s heavy breathing echoed inside the barn on the Last Hope Ranch. Callie struggled to take in air herself. How could things go so wrong?
Her precious daughter, whom she’d never thought to see again, was here outside, but in the clutches of evil men to whom human life held little value.
And Callie could do nothing.
Nate sprawled on the dirt floor, exhausted and bleeding from where she’d shot him.
Like someone moving through a thick fog, Rand stumbled to Callie and held her. Though she was grateful for his strong arms around her, ice seemed to float in her veins. She doubted she’d ever be warm again.
Every muscle, every instinct, told her to run to Mariah and save her. A mother should shield her child, not huddle frightened in a barn. Yet she realized that Nate’s brothers would send a bullet into her heart the minute she stepped out. That wouldn’t help her baby girl.
Or the two precious children in the house. They were alone and she couldn’t get to them. Toby must be so frightened.
“What are we going to do, Rand?” she whispered, eyeing Nate Fleming. “We have to protect the children.”
She couldn’t do anything about Mariah’s situation right now, but she could save Toby and Wren.
“I’ll get you to them.”
“How?”
“I’ve got a plan. But first I’m tying Fleming. See if you can find something to stick into his mouth.”
Heartened, Callie looked around while Rand got a length of rope and tied the outlaw’s hands. She came back a few minutes later with a piece of the cloth Rand had cleaned his gun with.
Seeing what was about to happen, Nate began hollering, trying to escape. Rand held him down while Callie stuffed the oily fabric into his mouth.
“What’s goin’ on in there?” Nate’s brother hollered. “Send Nate out before I
lose patience and hurt this little girl.”
Callie covered her mouth to smother the cry that rose.
“Hold on to your bloomers,” Rand replied. “Make no mistake, you hurt that girl and I’ll put a bullet into Fleming’s brain before you can swallow spit. I’ll uphold my end of the bargain, long as you do the same.”
“We can’t just let him go,” Callie said, grabbing his arm. “He’s our only leverage.”
“Sweetheart, if I don’t get you to the house and protect the children, they’ll go in and take them.” He smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. “This plan will buy us a little time to think of how best to rescue Mariah. I’ll not leave your daughter at their mercy. I made a promise to you, and I’ll give my life to keep it.”
Not sure what Rand had gotten in his head to do, Callie watched him lead the two horses from their stalls—the roan he called Blue and a dun by the name of Crow Bait. He slung Nate onto the dun and cut the rope binding his hands together. Taking a long piece of lariat, he pulled Nate’s arms down on either side of the horse’s neck and bound them as tightly as he could underneath the animal’s powerful neck. In this position, Nate was lying forward on the dun with his face in the mane.
The outlaw squealed and grunted, trying to kick them.
“Oh, you don’t like that, do you?” Rand said. “It’s not that much fun when you’re on the receiving end. I’ll bet some of your victims would like to see you now.”
Using more rope, Rand went over Nate’s back and down around Crow Bait’s belly several times. With Callie helping, it didn’t take long. She couldn’t wait to see what Rand was going to do with Blue.
“Callie, when I give the signal, I want you to run for the house as hard as you can. No matter what, don’t look back. With any luck, they’ll chase after Fleming and not you. When you get inside, bolt the door.”
She nodded, laying a hand on his broad chest. His blue eyes staring into hers were determined. “Please be safe, Rand. Don’t make me a widow.”
“Don’t worry.” He gave a flicker of a grin. “If this works, I’ll be sitting in the kitchen asking where the corn bread is before you even miss me.”
Swallowing the lump sitting in her throat, she tilted her face for his kiss. His arms came around her as his mouth covered hers hungrily. There was no gentleness. It was demanding and raw like the one a man who had little hope of seeing the next sunset might give.
Unshed tears filled Callie’s eyes. She felt so lost when Rand’s arms dropped from around her.
“Remember. When you see us ride out those doors, you run. Don’t look back. Keep your head down and race the wind.” He put the Winchester in her hands.
“I will. Godspeed.”
Rand grabbed handfuls of the roan’s mane and leaped onto the bare back. He hadn’t wasted precious time saddling the horse, but she wished he had. If Nate’s brothers didn’t get him, he could fall off and get trampled under the hooves.
Callie lifted her skirt with one hand, got a good grip on the rifle with the other, and readied.
When he gave several mighty yells and slapped Blue’s flank with his hat, the two men exploded from the barn. As they cleared the entrance, Rand slid to the side of the roan, hanging only by the mane.
With a sharp cry, Callie’s heart sprang to her throat. Though she knew him to be an excellent horseman and noted how clever he was to attempt to use Blue as a shield, terror gripped her.
She couldn’t lose Rand. Nor could she lose Mariah again. Not when she’d just found her.
What had happened to the child? What were Nate’s brothers doing to her?
It served no purpose to speculate. Shoving those thoughts to the back of her mind, she began to sprint between the barn and house, a distance of fifty yards. A sudden burst of gunfire erupted, kicking up the dirt around her feet.
Angry shouts echoed through the trees, sending shivers up Callie’s spine.
One man screamed, “Don’t hit Nate.”
Pounding hooves beat the hard earth.
More gunfire.
A powerful urge to look back, to see where Rand was, swept over her. Ignoring it, she kept her eyes focused on the kitchen door.
Keep your head down and run, Rand had said.
About halfway, her breath came in gasping, shuddering gulps and her skirt tangled around her legs. She jerked the fabric clear and reached deep inside for the strength she needed.
Twenty-five yards to go.
She thought she heard a child’s plaintive cry and stumbled, almost going down.
Quickly regaining her balance, she found her stride.
Then silence settled over the land. Only the sound of her heartbeat filled her ears.
Had they killed Rand?
If she turned around, would she find him lying in a pool of blood? And what about Mariah?
Please, dear God, don’t let them be dead.
At last she reached the kitchen door, only to find that the knob refused to turn.
A jolt of memory, of telling Toby to lock it after she left, filled her head. “Toby, unlock the door. Let me in,” she called. “Hurry.”
Callie huddled low, waiting, and took a moment to glance behind her. No bodies were lying in pools of blood. There was no sign of Rand. Or her daughter. Or Nate.
When Toby finally unlatched and pulled the door open, Callie rushed over the threshold and slammed it shut behind her.
“I thought you was dead. Where’s Papa?” Toby’s voice quivered.
“I don’t know, honey.” She leaned down and drew him into her arms. His little body trembled against her. “I’m sure he’s going to be fine. He’s smart and knows how to take care of himself. I’m all right too. What we have to do now is make sure everything is locked. Can you help me bring down some furniture from upstairs so we can add an extra layer of security in front of the doors?”
Toby nodded. “My sister cried after you left, but I told her everything was gonna be okay. I told her she still had me an’ I wasn’t gonna let anyone get her.”
“I’m sure she was real glad to hear that.”
“Yep. She sucked her thumb and went to sleep.”
Callie kissed his forehead. “I’m so very proud of you.”
“Was my old papa out there?”
“Yes, honey.”
Tears bubbled up in his eyes. “Please don’t let him find me. Don’t let him have me, even if tries to shoot us.”
“Honey, I’m not ever going to turn you over to him. You belong to me and Rand. We’re family. We’ll fight with everything we have to keep him away from you.” She tenderly wiped his eyes and kissed his cheek. “Let’s get busy, and then I’m going to feed you. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Toby nodded and attempted a feeble smile, though his bottom lip quivered. He was trying so hard to be brave. “My sister is too.”
“Then we’ll simply have to feed her.”
Working as fast as possible, she pulled the table in front of the kitchen door and managed to get the tall chest in her and Rand’s bedroom downstairs. Toby brought some smaller things and helped her drag the cowhide settee in front of the door that faced the road.
Callie blew away a strand of hair from her eyes and glanced around. Not the best, but it would have to do. She hurried to the kitchen to make Wren a bottle before she realized they’d never got to milk the cow that morning.
What was she going to feed the baby? She glanced out the window toward the barn but decided it was too risky. Then she remembered the cans of evaporated milk she’d bought at the mercantile. That would have to work, although the baby might balk at first.
She quickly punched a hole in the top of one of the cans and poured the milk into a bottle, adding some water and a little syrup to it. Wren began sucking immediately when Callie put the nipple into her mouth. When the taste hit her tongue t
hough, her eyes grew wide and she tried to push it away.
“Here, sweet girl. This is all you have today. Please take it for your mama.”
The baby seemed to understand the plea because she slowly started drinking, much to Callie’s relief.
Once she’d fed Wren, she got out the fixings for breakfast, though it neared midday. Every few minutes she glanced out the window in hopes of seeing Rand and the blue roan.
Those hopes were dashed. There was no sign of him.
Where was Mariah? Did Rand get her away from Nate and his brothers?
Please, God, make it so. Despite her prayers, she saw no movement of any kind. Not an animal, a branch on the live oak tree, or a bird stirred.
Her queasy stomach roiled. She wouldn’t be able to force a bite of food down her throat.
Minutes later, she watched Toby eat in the deafening silence that played havoc on her nerves.
If only Wren would cry or something would make noise.
A sudden pounding on the door made her heart stampede like a herd of spooked cattle. She scrambled for the rifle.
Twenty-eight
“Callie, open up.”
The sound of Rand’s voice filled her with relief. She laid down the Winchester and pushed the table away from the door. With trembling hands, Callie let him in. The minute he stepped inside, she threw her arms around his neck.
“You made it. You’re alive.”
“Indeed I am, and you’re a sight to behold.” His lips brushed her cheek before they found her mouth.
“Papa, I missed you,” Toby cried, burrowing between them.
Rand lifted him up. “I missed you too, son.”
“I thought my old papa done killed you.” Toby patted Rand’s cheeks as though to assure himself that his new papa was alive.
“He’s not going to kill me. I’m not going to let him. I have to make sure you and Wren grow up healthy and happy, because that’s what papas do.” Rand hugged him tightly, then put him down. Going to the cradle, he picked up Wren and held the child in his arms as gently as he would a priceless piece of china.
