Montana Sky_Legacy

by Lynn Winchester

Joanna…she was trapped there, she was going to die there—if he didn’t so something about it. Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down, to focus, to find a way to save her. To save the woman who meant more to him than he could say.

  “I can’t believe it—how did they know we were coming?” Joanna asked, her tone dripping with incredulity. “I couldn’t have been Aunt Melda. She was as upset by Uncle Thomas’s involvement in this as we were.”

  “No, it wasn’t Aunt Melda. It had to have been someone at the mansion.” He wouldn’t put it past Uncle Thomas to hire someone to watch over the man who was supposed to watch over Joanna. More than likely, someone had been spying on Tim all along.

  Voices carried along the tunnel to his ears, they were coming closer. Fingers of light slid along the pit wall across from him, and the growing brightness allowed him to see Joanna, her back braced against the opposite wall, her arms twisted behind her back, her hair loose from her braid, her eyes wide and wild.

  “Stay calm. Whatever happens, we will get through this,” he whispered to her. Heavens, how he prayed he was right. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that someone as wonderful and fiery and strong as Joanna would be buried alive in a gold mine owned by someone she was supposed to trust. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew he was in just as much danger of dying there, but he didn’t care about himself. There, in the depths of hell, he couldn’t care that he was doomed; he only cared that Joanna would never get the justice her brother deserved. He only cared that Joanna would never know that her brother wasn’t the only man who loved her. She’d never know that she’d utterly and truly captured his heart…and would forever own it. Even if only for the next second—before the lantern light reached them and one of Hess’s men finished the job.

  “I am calm…and I…don’t understand how that’s possible.” Her confession seemed ripped from her, as if capable, fearless Joanna Stopay hated to admit she could be just as scared as he was.

  He smiled at that. “Then it must be true; we’ll get out of here. We just need to trust that we’re going to be fine,” he murmured to her, just as the lantern light shined right down on them, obscuring the figure behind it, holding it above their heads.

  “Well, looks like you two ain’t dead yet,” Beauford sneered, snickering.

  “I’m harder to kill than that,” Joanna growled.

  Beauford snickered again. “Like a coco-roach, I reckon.”

  Joanna snorted but didn’t reply.

  Good, keep a level head, Joanna. We’ll get through this, he advised her silently, hoping she could somehow read his thoughts.

  “I guess you bein’ alive is good—for you—since your uncle wants you topside.”

  Relief and then wariness pooled in his stomach. “Why?” he asked, apprehension heavy in the pit where he and Joanna we’re tied like roasting pigs.

  Beauford grunted. “I didn’t ask. You best get up and come along nice like, or I just might have to tell him one of you got lost on the way.” Tim could hear the goading in the man’s voice, and he decided he wasn’t going to press his luck. He’d do anything, anything, to save Joanna’s life.

  Without a word, but with plenty of grunts and shuffling noises, he and Joanna stood, allowing Beauford to pull them up from the pit, laying them across the cold tunnel floor.

  Situating himself behind them, Beauford kicked Tim’s boot. “Get up!”

  Tim didn’t hesitate, but rising to his feet with his hands tied behind his back required a little work. He felt the wound on his shoulder pop open, and the warmth of his blood begin to slide down his chest. He couldn’t help Joanna up, but she didn’t seem to need help. She easily got to her knees, then one leg and then the other leg pushed up, bringing her to standing.

  “Now walk,” Beauford ordered, pushing against Joanna’s back with his pistol muzzle.

  Tim’s chest filled with the heat of anger. What he wouldn’t give to have his hands free, then he could pummel the life out of the man who dared to threaten Joanna’s life. What he wouldn’t give to have Beauford, Hess, and Uncle Thomas on their knees in front of him, begging for their life, while he held a gun to their heads. No, it wasn’t how his ma and pa raised him; he respected life, knew it was precious. But he also knew that there were people on earth who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as people like Joanna.

  They stumbled through the passage leading upward, grateful that Beauford had a lantern, even though the light of it didn’t quite reach far enough ahead of him to keep him from nearly tripping over broken timbers, discarded mining tools, and ridges of rock protruding from the tunnel floor.

  Many minutes later, they emerged into the cold—yet warmer than the belly of the mine—night outside. The moon was overhead now, and its full light cast an eerie blue haze over the clearing where Uncle Thomas, Dalton Hess, and the unnamed man stood.

  Beauford put the lantern on the hook at the entrance then turned to snag the bind holding Tim’s hands, holding him in place. He still pointed his pistol at Joanna’s back. He turned his head to look at Tim then pressed his lips into a thin line, as if to say, ‘you move, she dies.’ Tim closed his eyes against the fear, the anger, the anxiety building within him. He forced himself to breathe slower, to clear his mind of useless thoughts, to focus…

  Focus, dammit!

  Uncle Thomas was grimacing at them, as if disappointed that he had to reprimand them for getting into his good cigars. Dalton Hess stood, shotgun over his shoulder, his face a mask of hideous hatred. He was grinning at them with a sneer ugly enough to spook a blind horse. A shudder passed through him, but he looked at Joanna. She stood there, beneath the pale light of the full moon, her back straight, her shoulders back, her proud chin out… She was the most captivating thing he’d ever seen in his life. Though she was as trapped as he was, she didn’t show a single tremble, not one tremor of fear. Her expression was hard, her cheeks sharp, her eyes narrow.

  Lord, but she was angry—like the wrath of angels about to release God’s retribution on sinful man.

  He fought back a smile. Now was not the time for smiling, it was the time for thinking how to get out of there without a bullet wound.

  A scuffling noise made Tim turn just in time to see the unnamed man stepped behind Hess. From what he could see in the weak lantern and moonlight, the man was tall, broad-shouldered with a barrel chest. Tim couldn’t make out the man’s features under the brim of his hat, but he could tell the man was tense. As if waiting for something to happen. What was he doing? Tim didn’t have time to think on it before Hess stepped forward and lowered the shotgun, pointing it directly at Joanna’s chest.

  “You shoulda stayed in Shawnee,” he snarled. “But now, instead of bein’ home with your grievin’ ma, you’re here. With me. And I have a few ideas ‘bout how to deal with nosy little troublemakers.” He stepped forward, leaning down.

  Tim wanted to move to keep Hess from getting anywhere near Joanna, but the flicker out of the corner of his eye reminded him that Joanna was enough danger with Beauford’s gun pointed at her back, ready to kill her the moment he moved an inch.

  Hell, but he hated being so helpless, but there were too many of them and only one of him. Sure, Joanna was tough—her tussle in the alley with Hess showed Tim that she could at least hold her own for a bit. But what man would let a woman put herself in such danger?

  I did. I let her do this. I let her get both of us into this trouble. Why? He thought the answer would be difficult to find, but it wasn’t. He let Joanna do whatever she wanted because he didn’t have the heart to tell her no—no, that she couldn’t get justice for her brother. No, that she couldn’t capture the man who tried to kill her. No, that she couldn’t try to find closure for the most devastating part of her life.

  But he should have. He should have made her go to the sheriff. He should have locked her in her room—with the windows barred—to keep her from coming tonight. He should have told her how much he cared for her…but would that have eve
n mattered? Now, standing within a circle of men who wanted to see them both dead, he knew he’d screwed up. And now Joanna was going to pay for it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  JoJo swallowed down the terror choking her—at least she tried to. With the shotgun at her chest and the pistol at her back, she knew only the gut-wrenching fear of death.

  But then she heard Tim’s slow, calm exhale, and a sense of comfort, warmth, and peace filled her.

  Timothy. The man she’d first thought an inconvenience. The man she’d tried to drug to keep him from getting involved in her plans. The man she’d come to trust more than any other person on earth. The man she’d come to…love.

  Gawt, I am so stupid. Leave it to me to fall in love with someone right before I die. Right before we both die—because I couldn’t see the danger through my own blind rage.

  The truth settled on her chest like a boulder; pressing down until she could barely breathe.

  She loved her brother. He was everything to her. And when he died, she was left with nothing but an empty hole in her heart. She was angry, so angry that she tried to fill that hole with a purpose—finding Joe’s killer and bringing him to justice by any means necessary. At first, the plan was simple; find out who killed Joe, tell the sheriff, and wait for justice to be served. But then no one in the town would talk about the bank robbery. It was as though all of Shawnee were asleep when her brother was gunned down in the street. It wasn’t until the prostitute told her about Hess that she finally felt the hole in her chest begin to shrink. She finally had something to do other than sit at home, soaking in sorrow, burning in frustration. She should have gone to the sheriff then, could have told him what the bawd said about Hess, but by then, everyone else had moved on. No one cared that Joe was dead. To them, he was just another name in the obituary.

  It was up to her to find Hess—it was her new purpose in life. So, she’d hunted him down like the dog he was, she’d pushed aside all the whispers of doubt, all the cries of warning. She’d ignored the wary looks and pitying glances. She’d focused on catching Hess and in doing so she’d risked her own life—but she didn’t care. No one cared about one small woman with nothing to offer.

  Until Timothy Hanlon came along and made her feel…human. His smiles, his gentle manner, his kisses, the warmth of his embrace…they showed her that she wasn’t just her purpose, she was a woman. A woman who hungered for love. Tim had changed her. And now, Tim was doing to die because she refused to listen to him. She refused to let go of her lust of vengeance. What she wouldn’t give for one last chance.

  She fought back a moan of anguish.

  “Hold on, now, Hess,” Uncle Thomas said, stepping forward. “Things don’t need to get bloody. If I wanted them to die I’d have left them in that hole.” He offered Tim and Joanna a slippery smile, one that reminded her of a withering slug.

  “No, things don’t need to get bloody,” Tim finally spoke, his deep voice even. Joanna knew he was scared—shoot, she was terrified, too, but he wasn’t showing it. Strong, brave, courageous Tim.

  Just one more chance…so I can tell you how I feel.

  “You’re right, they don’t.” Hess eyed Uncle Thomas warily. “Why don’t you tell us what you know about what’s going on here. Then…maybe we’ll let you go.”

  She knew he was lying. No matter what she said, Dalton Hess would put a bullet between their eyes.

  “We know about the illegal mining,” Tim said, stepping closer to her, putting his body at an angle so he was just in front of her. Hess didn’t seem to care, though. He moved the shotgun muzzle toward Tim.

  A shudder tore through her. “Breathe, breathe, we can get through this.” Tim’s words from the pit filled her, reminding her about how calm and confident he sounded.

  “We know that you hired Hess and he and his two men here robbed the people of Morgan’s Crossing. We know you wanted me to deliver something to this claim that you’d no doubt use to continue your mining operation. But we don’t know why you need to encroach on someone else’s claim or why your miners are all gone. You talk about how successful you are, but it looks to me like your one lucky strike was your only lucky strike.”

  Uncle Thomas hissed then cursed under his breath, his expression boiling with red spots.

  “I think you’ve run out of money, but because you’re as greedy as my ma told me you were, you’re taking the gold from someone else’s claim.”

  Joanna was holding her breath, praying to God Hess didn’t pull the trigger and end Tim’s accusations right there.

  “That’s about enough!” Uncle Thomas squealed. “I’d hoped that bringing you here to keep an eye on Joanna would keep her out of trouble. I didn’t want her to get hurt, I didn’t want either of you to get hurt. Hell, Tim, you’re my sister’s boy. I honestly wanted to show you what true success looked like. I wanted to show you just how wrong your ma was, all those years ago, when she told me I’d amount to nothing.”

  “But stealing someone else’s gold doesn’t make you a success, it makes you a thief,” Joanna spat, finally tired of Uncle Thomas’s tirade. “Do you honestly think you’ll get away with this? If I can find Dalton Hess, I know the law won’t be far behind. How blinded by greed do you have to be to hire a known criminal to help you? Dalton Hess killed my brother, he robbed the bank in Shawnee, and Lord knows how many other crimes he committed before coming here. Not to mention the people of the town know about the robberies; they’re angrier than a hornet’s nest, and they are looking for someone to blame. Wonder how long it will take before someone gets wise to what’s going on up here, before someone starts putting all the pieces together like we have. You can’t kill an entire town, Uncle Thomas, no matter how much gold you find in the mountain.”

  Without warning, Hess reared back, bringing the butt of the shotgun down on Joanna’s forehead. An explosion of pain and stars erupted. She staggered back, landing on her hind end in the dust, a groan escaping her mouth. Blackness swam before her eyes, but she could see Tim rush forward and slam his wounded shoulder into Hess’s belly. The both of them flew backward into a boulder, Hess taking the brunt of the impact. Beauford stepped forward and aimed at Tim’s back, and Joanna could only croak. Before Beauford could shoot, Hess pushed Tim back, slamming the shotgun muzzle into Tim’s chest, knocking the wind from him and sending him back to land right beside Joanna.

  She tried to roll to look at him, to tell him to stay down, but her hands tied behind her kept her on her left side. “Tim,” she groaned, desperate to hear him speak, to know what he was still breathing.

  “Joanna…are you okay?” he asked, his voice a moan of pain. He was worried about her? The man knew nothing about self-preservation.

  “Just stay down, don’t do anything stupid,” Beauford said as he pointed his pistol at Tim.

  Joanna felt the wet warmth of blood ooze down her face, the thick fluid running into her right eye. She blinked to clear it, but it only made her vision cloudy.

  Uncle Thomas stepped forward and took the pistol from Beauford. He pointed it at Joanna.

  “You little witch,” he hissed, his face contorted in wild rage, a glimmer of madness shined in his eyes. “You don’t think I’d kill the whole town just to get the gold in this mountain? You’re a fool. With that much gold, I could buy the law. It wouldn’t take much to buy off the deputies—Sheriff Temogen would be a problem, but that problem is easily handled with a stick of dynamite and a match.” He chuckled as if he’d just told the most hilarious joke.

  “That’s what’s in those crates you wanted me to bring up here,” Tim said, realization in his tone.

  “That’s right. Why didn’t you just do what you were told, Timothy, my boy? All you had to do was keep Joanna at the house, keep her out of trouble. What did it take for you to fall into her plans, huh? Did she let you in between those creamy legs of hers? Did she let you taste her forbidden fruits?” he sneered, and Joanna’s pulse pounded in her ears.

  “How dare you!” s
he snapped. “Tim is an honorable, good, gentle man. I didn’t have to make him fall into anything. He wanted to help. He knew you were up to no good, and he knew how much getting Hess for my brother’s murder meant to me…” she choked on a sob. “It’s my fault he’s here.” Struggling to turn over to see him, she looked over her shoulder, desperate to meet his gaze.

  His eyes, dark with emotion, met hers. “I am so sorry, Tim,” she whimpered, the strength wicking from her body and into the dust beneath her.

  Hess snickered. “Aw, isn’t that sweet? The two lovebirds are going to die together.”

  Joanna could hear Tim struggling to rise to a sitting position, but she couldn’t see much of anything from her awkward angle.

  “Is that why you didn’t leave us to die in the mine? You wanted to gloat?” Tim asked, his voice stronger than she’d expected.

  Uncle Thomas chuckled. “At first, I thought it a fitting death for two people who were digging up nuggets of information on me and my men. But then…I wanted to have a little fun. I’ve never killed a man before, and I wanted the chance to look him in the eye as I pulled the trigger. But first—”

  In the blink of an eye, Uncle Thomas swung the gun toward Joanna’s back and smiled. Joanna braced for the blast of sound and the pain of the bullet. The boom of the gunshot exploded in her ears…but there was no pain. Only the heavy weight of something on her back. She sucked in a deep breath and twisted her head to look over her shoulder—

  “No!” Tim was there, pressed against her back, his beautiful face twisted in pain, his eyes glassy, his lips working to form silent words.

  “Dammit! I didn’t mean to shoot him—at least not yet. See what you did, Joanna? Your pretty face and wily ways fooled my poor, dimwitted nephew into throwing himself in front of a bullet meant for you.” Uncle Thomas came and squatted beside her, placing the searing hot muzzle of the pistol against her cheek. She didn’t flinch because she didn’t feel it. She was numb…she could only feel terror. For Tim.