Legacies

by Janet Dailey

  She didn't understand why Alex had a cabin in the hills. The land wasn't good for anything. It was too rocky for farming, and there wasn't enough graze for cattle. It looked like an outlaw's hideout. Suddenly, Sorrel wondered if everything Lije had said about Alex was true. She touched the locket around her neck.

  Stones clattered outside, dislodged by hooves as Alex led the horses behind the cabin. Sorrel stiffened, apprehension tightening her muscles. She looked at the dirty blanket that hung in the doorway to the cabin's second room. Morgan was behind it. Morgan and his gun. She felt a chill curl down her spine.

  A jay shrieked in the trees outside. Sorrel jumped and gripped the edge of the bed.

  At last she heard Lije's horse on the trail. She knew he wouldn't see the cabin until he rounded the rocky promontory. By then he would be in the clearing. She forced herself to lie down on the crude cot and pretend to be asleep. Pretend everything was all right, that everything would be all right.

  She closed her eyes and listened, trying to track Lije's approach to the cabin with her ears alone—the creak of saddle leather when he dismounted, the faint scrape of his boot on the gravel when he moved toward the cabin, the groan of a wooden step when he started up them, then nothing. She was certain he was inside the cabin, but she couldn't hear him anymore. She hadn't realized her brother could move so quietly, so stealthily. Why didn't he call out? Why was he being so cautious? She couldn't stand the suspense any longer. She stirred, pretending to wake up.

  When she opened her eyes, he was three feet inside the door, his narrowed eyes suspiciously scanning the room. He had a gun in his hand, the hammer cocked. For an instant, he looked remarkably like her father, but without the scar on his cheek.

  "Lije." She sat up, pretending to brush the sleep from her face. "What are you doing here? How did you know where to find me?"

  "Where's Alex?"

  "He isn't here," she answered quickly, then worried that maybe it was too quickly.

  "What's back there?" He gestured to the blanket covering the doorway.

  "Nothing," Sorrel lied and hated herself for it.

  The feeling intensified when Lije glanced sharply at her as if doubting her words. "Come on," he ordered and beckoned her to him. "You're getting out of here."

  Sorrel stood, not knowing what else to do or how else to stall him. Then, in a flash of motion, the blanket was flung back, and Morgan stepped out with a gun in his hand.

  "Look out!" But the booming report of Morgan's gun muffled her warning shout.

  Almost simultaneously, Lije's gun bucked in his hand. The two explosions blended together into one deafening roar. In shock, Sorrel saw Morgan slammed against the wall by the bullet that plowed into him. He tried to bring his revolver up to bear again. Again the air reverberated with the thundering discharge of Lije's weapon, and Morgan slid down the wall, his legs crumpling under him, a look of shock on his face.

  "Lije." Sorrel turned, relieved to see him standing upright, but her relief quickly changed to alarm when she saw his hand pressed against the top of his arm, blood oozing from the cracks between his fingers. "You've been shot."

  She took a step toward him, but he waved her back with his gun, the whiteness of pain showing around his jaw. "Where is Alex?"

  "Right here, Lije." Alex stood in the doorway, his revolver aimed at Lije's back. His smile was frightening. Lije stiffened and started to turn, but the ominous click of a cocking hammer checked the movement. "That's right—don't move. Sorrel, take his gun."

  She hesitated, again unsure of what to do. She stared at Lije, vaguely unnerved by the sad, pitying look he gave her. "I'm sorry," she whispered and moved closer to take his gun. He handed it to her butt first

  "Now, move away from him, Sorrel," Alex ordered.

  When she backed up, Lije said, "I should have known you would be behind me, Alex."

  "Wait for me outside, Sorrel." Alex stepped to the left of the doorway and motioned for her to go out.

  "Stay here, Sorrel." Lije lifted his head slightly, but he didn't look around. "I want you to know he'll be lying when he tells you I made a try for his gun, and he had to kill me."

  Sorrel stared at Alex, waiting for him to deny it. Instead, he snapped, "Turn around, Stuart."

  "No. You're going to shoot me in the back just the way you killed my father."

  "What?" Dazed, Sorrel looked at him. "Father is dead?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Alex growled. "Get out of here, Sorrel."

  "You know what I'm talking about," Lije taunted. "You made the same mistake the last time."

  "Shut up!"

  "Deu didn't die right away, Alex. He lived long enough to identify you."

  Deu was dead, too? Alex had killed Deu and her father? No. Her father couldn't be dead. He couldn't be!

  "You've said enough," Alex leveled the long barrel of his revolver at Lije's back.

  Dear God, he was going to kill Lije, too. Without thinking, Sorrel lifted the gun in her hand and pointed it at Alex. "Alex, no." Her voice wavered, but she managed to hold the gun steady. "Don't. Put the gun down . . . please."

  For an instant, Alex froze at the sight of the gun in her hand. He glanced from it to her, then smiled crookedly. "What do you think you're doing with that? You won't shoot me."

  She swallowed nervously. "I'm not going to let you kill my brother, Alex." To enforce her statement, she pulled the hammer back, using both thumbs.

  His smile grew wider, along with his confidence. "You won't shoot me, Sorrel." He turned back to Lije, centering his attention on him. "Not me."

  She caught the faint movement of his trigger finger and squeezed with her own. The revolver jumped in her hands as the loud report vibrated against her eardrums. Through half-closed eyes she saw Alex stagger to one side, then slowly fall.

  "Alex!" She dropped the gun and ran to him, falling to the floor beside him.

  His eyes clung to her, pain and confusion in their depths. "Why?" he murmured faintly. "Why?"

  "I had to," she sobbed. "Don't you see I had to?"

  "I . . . trusted you."

  Then came that sound, that horrible, never-to-be-forgotten sound of a long, rasping breath expelled, followed by absolute silence.

  "Alex." She threw herself onto him and sobbed.

  A hand pulled at her. "Sorrel." Lije's voice came from far away. "Sorrel, there isn't any more you can do for him."

  Still weeping, she let him pull her upright. "I had to, Lije," she said again. "I couldn't let him shoot you. I had to."

  His right arm went around her and pulled her to him. "I know." He pressed her head against his shirt and let her cry. "I know."

  At last Sorrel drew back and wiped at the tears with her hand. She glanced back at Alex's body. "Is it true, Lije?" she asked in a thick, broken voice. "Is Father really dead?"

  "Yes." He smoothed a hand over her hair.

  Her face scrunched up, tears rising again. "Why? Why did he have to die? It isn't fair, Lije. It isn't fair."

  "I know."

  "But you don't understand. I never had a chance to tell him I loved him. And I did love him. Truly, I did, Lije," she sobbed.

  "He knew that. I swear to you he knew that," Lije told her, his own voice thickening with grief and pain. "Come on. Let's go home." He turned to lead her outside.

  Sorrel pulled back. "Wait." She reached behind her neck and fumbled briefly with the chain's clasp, then pulled the locket from around her neck and tossed it back. It fell in the shadows near Alex's body. "I don't want it anymore."

  It was close to dusk when they returned to Grand View. Rans saw them coming up the lane. By the time they reached the house, everyone was outside waiting for them. Lije dismounted first and walked around to help Sorrel down. Wordlessly, Temple rushed to embrace her.

  Lije stepped back and turned. Diane came to him, more slowly, her gaze traveling over him in careful examination. She saw the blood-stained kerchief tied around his arm.

  "Yo
u're hurt."

  "Not badly," he said, then reached out to gather her into his arms. For the moment he simply wanted to hold her and let the tightness of it spiral through him.

  "Alex?" she said in question.

  "He's dead." He rubbed his cheek against her hair. "It's over. This time it's finally over."

  She shuddered and pressed closer. "I love you, Lije."

  "I love you, too." He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes lazy and warm. "Marry me?"

  Her breath caught, then escaped in a laughing sigh. "I thought you'd never ask."

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1995 by Janet Dailey

  Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media

  ISBN 978-1-4976-1588-5

  This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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