“Oh, my God!” Charlotte exclaimed.
Owen remained silent, his breathing ragged and fierce.
“No matter how much she fought, no matter how much she screamed, no one heard her or come to help… and her attacker never stopped…”
Charlotte recoiled in horror; to even imagine a man forcing himself on her against her will made her sick to her stomach. That it had happened to Owen’s mother was just as bad, but she knew that worse was to come; if what John was telling them was true, then…
“Caroline never told anyone what happened, not even me, not at first,” John continued, tears in his eyes. “When she found out she was pregnant, knowing that it had happened the night she was raped, that was when she told me…
“She’d known from the moment he come out into the moonlight that it was Carter Herrick that done it. Said he talked to her the whole time he was havin’ his way with her, tellin’ her that if he couldn’t have her, that he’d make sure she was ruined for anyone else, meanin’ me. When he’d left her there, broken and cryin’, the last thing he’d said was that he loved her, but she hadn’t given him no other choice to make.”
“Is Carter Herrick still alive?” Owen asked, his lip snarling.
John slowly nodded. “He is.”
“Why?” Owen shook. “Why wouldn’t you have made sure the man who raped the woman you loved was dead before the next morning sun?”
“Because of Caroline. Because she knew that I was little more than a boy, hotheaded enough to go off half-cocked and do something that I would pay for for the rest of my life,” he explained. “Carter’s family was better off than any in Sawyer. Makin’ him pay would’ve torn our lives in two. She didn’t want that for me, would not even hear of it. So she made me promise, made me swear on my love for her that I wouldn’t take revenge on the son of a bitch that had forced himself on her. I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t deny her; I just couldn’t.” Tears flowed freely down John Grant’s face. “She did it ’cause she wanted to protect me, to make sure I was safe, all ’cause I failed to protect her, to make up for the moment I wasn’t there when she needed me.”
Charlotte knew that John was telling them the truth; there was no way that he was capable of lying so brazenly. The story he was recounting had been locked away for a long time, hidden from the world in which he lived. In among the tears, there may even have been some relief for finally being able to release his burden.
“And then she left Sawyer,” Charlotte suggested.
“I could’ve lived with it,” John struggled, unable to look at either of them so instead he looked down at his shaking hands. “I could have raised her child as if it were my own, but Caroline decided that the shame of her rape was her burden to bear alone. She figured that every time I was lookin’ at the child, I’d be remindin’ myself of what had happened, but I wouldn’t have…
“One day she was just gone, leavin’ her family and disappearin’ into the countryside. She left me a note that I have to this day. If you still don’t believe me, you can read it.”
Looking at Owen, Charlotte could see that there would be no need for further proof; though his fists were still balled and there was tension in his shoulders, his eyes had softened; his intent was no longer violence… at least not toward John Grant.
“Why didn’t you go after her?” he asked.
“I tried, Owen. I really did. Pert near spent every cent I had trackin’ all around the Southwest, even down to the border of Mexico, but I could never find her, ’specially when she didn’t want to be found,” he said, clearly still pained. “In the end, I found a new life with Amelia. She’d known ’bout Caroline, has always accepted that my heart lies with another, but what we have is worth carin’ for, worth fightin’ for.
“All these years, I wondered whatever ’came of Caroline’s child… and I guess now I know…”
Outside, the storm kept raging, the wind rising to tug at the barn’s open door, pushing it back into the wall with a crash. But no one moved until Owen rose up to his feet, pain in his face.
“So my mother… was raped… by Carter Herrick…?” he asked.
John nodded.
“And that… makes him my father…?”
“It does,” John said, but quickly added, “but that doesn’t mean that—”
“Tell me where he lives, John,” Owen cut him off. “Tell me where to find him so I can murder that rapist bastard!”
From the depths of the barn, deep in the shadows that the storm’s illumination failed to reach, there came the sound of a gun cocking, followed by an unknown man’s voice.
“I ain’t gonna let you do that.”
Chapter Twenty-six
CHARLOTTE HELD HER BREATH, horrified by what she saw; a man stepped from the rear of the barn, a pistol in his hand. His oversize nose, grey-streaked hair, and enormous belly that hung over his waistline were all features that she immediately recognized; it was the same man whom she had witnessed striking a horse with a studded board, starting the stampede. In that instant, she knew that she had made a huge mistake by allowing herself to believe she had imagined seeing him, and a bigger one by not saying anything to Owen. Now, with the man grinning ear-to-ear, his gun pointed at them, it was far too late.
“Clyde Drake.” John scowled, unintentionally answering Charlotte’s unspoken question. “What in the hell are you doin’ here?”
“Protectin’ my own hide, that’s what I’m doin’.” Clyde laughed, setting his huge belly to rumbling. “’Long with threatenin’ yours, you damn old fool! Just imagine my surprise to be headin’ this way, tryin’ to get outta the rain, when I see you pullin’ up to the barn. I just come in the back way, kept my big mouth shut, and started listenin’. Amazin’ what you can hear when no one knows you’re there. I been plannin’ on payin’ you a visit, somethin’ private ’tween the two of us, but what you done said made it so now’s got to be the time.”
“What you heard was none of your business.”
“But it was so entertainin’,” Clyde said sarcastically. “That there was a hell of a story you told, Grant. A real teary story if I ever heard one. Good ’nough for the movies. But if you ask me, the bitch got what she deserved.”
Owen snarled, looking as if he wanted to tear the man limb from limb.
“Hold it right there, boy,” Clyde answered, clearly understanding Owen’s intention to jump him. “If you think I won’t plug you for even lookin’ at me the wrong way, you’re dumber than a stump. Unless you don’t wanna live a bit longer, I’d stay still if I were you.”
“You’re the one who started the stampede,” Charlotte said.
“Nice to see you got yourself a brain in that pretty little head of yours, darlin’. Done a pretty good job of it, too, even if I wished it had gone a bit better.” He laughed, his eyes roaming over her in such a way as to make Charlotte uncomfortable. “Had my hands in settin’ the wildfire and foulin’ the well, too. There’s some fellas who’re good at findin’ trouble, but I’m a little different. See, I’m the guy you hire when you want trouble to find someone else.”
With Clyde’s admission of guilt, all the problems that had beleaguered the ranch over the last couple of weeks were explained. Even the theory she and Owen had concocted, that the fire had been intentionally set, had proven true. Though she was frightened, there was one thing that relieved Charlotte: now it was clear that Owen had been wrongly accused. While she had never once doubted him, she knew that John and Hale had. Since they had been in the barn, more than one misconception had been cleared up.
“Carter Herrick hired you to do this,” John said, getting to his feet and dusting off his pants.
“Reason ’nough for me.”
“You’d even kill a man in cold blood?”
“If the occasion calls for it and I was paid enough,” the man replied, smug because he stood on the right side of the gun. “See, money goes an awful long way in my book. Lots of things a man will do to put coin in his pock
et. Liquor and women don’t find their way to you without handing over some money. Course, that ain’t the only reason a fella will follow orders of a man the likes of Mr. Herrick.”
“What in the hell are you getting at?” Owen growled.
“From the way you’re all lookin’ at me, I bet you figured I’ve been workin’ here alone, didn’t you? Wreckin’, burnin’, and ruinin’ all by my lonesome, but you’d be wrong ’bout that.” Clyde Drake grinned broadly through tobacco-stained teeth, enjoying his position of power. Over his shoulder he shouted, “Why don’t you come on out here and show ’em!”
For as surprised as Charlotte had been when she recognized Clyde Drake as the man responsible for starting the stampede, it was absolutely nothing when compared to the shock she felt when the man’s accomplice stepped out from the depths of the barn to join him, pointing another pistol at them.
It was Del Grissom.
Owen couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Of all the men who could have conspired against John Grant, who could have done all of the despicable, destructive things that had been done to the ranch, Del Grissom would have been the last person he’d have expected. From the first day he and Hannah had arrived in Sawyer, it was Del who had gone to great pains to make sure they were settled. Kind and considerate, he’d driven Hannah into town to help her get whatever she had needed. As a boss, he was honest, fair, and hardworking, the sort of man you wouldn’t mind busting your tail to help. Hell, when Owen had discovered the fouled well, Del was the first person he considered telling, even before John or Hale. Never in his wildest dreams could Owen have imagined this moment.
And from the look on John Grant’s face, neither could he…
“What… what in the hell is this, Del?” John asked, all of the color immediately draining from his skin, his knees suddenly weak enough for him to take a step back before steadying himself. “Why are you here? Why do you have that gun? Don’t tell me you’re workin’ with this man!”
“I’m awfully sorry ’bout what’s happenin’, Mr. Grant,” Del answered, his eyes never once able to meet those of the man he had worked beside for seven long years.
“You ain’t got no reason to apologize to him none,” Clyde admonished.
“The hell he doesn’t!” Owen snapped.
“I’m sorry all the same,” Del said simply.
“What sort of leverage does Herrick have on you, Del?” John pressed, ignoring Clyde’s disregard for all of the long years they had spent together, working side by side on the ranch. “I’ve known Carter all my life and, without question, he’s the biggest snake I ever met. Why, he’d blackmail his own mother if he thought he could get away with it.”
Clyde Drake’s pistol bucked in his hand, the slug pounding into the ground just in front of where John Grant stood. Dirt kicked up as the retort of the shot reverberated around the barn. Owen struggled to steady his heartbeat, his eyes never leaving the bastard with the gun; Charlotte standing beside him was silent but wide-eyed.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Del hissed. “Damn it all! You go shootin’ off that gun, someone’s gonna hear it and come running!”
“Ain’t no one gonna hear nothin’ in this here storm,” Clyde contradicted his partner. “If they did, they’d just reckon they heard a bolt of lightnin’ or roll of thunder or the wind blowin’ a door shut. Besides, even if they was curious, they ain’t gonna go out in this weather to check.”
“You’re pushin’ your luck!”
“I’ll decide that!”
With a sickening feeling in his gut, Owen knew that they were running out of time. If Clyde was so unconcerned about shooting his gun, it was because he felt confident he could do whatever he wanted without fear of discovery. The truth was that the bastard was right; no one would hear them over the din of the storm. Everyone on the ranch would be taking shelter, in either the main house, the cottages, or another barn. Even if they were to yell and scream at the top of their lungs, it would be useless, a futile gesture that would only serve to get them killed.
That didn’t leave them with many options. With Charlotte at Owen’s side, there was no way he could try to escape; if she were to hesitate, lag behind him, he would be signing her death warrant. And after what John had told him, a story he could not help but believe, he didn’t want to get him killed, either. That meant his only option was to overpower them, but how could he if there were two of them? Would he really have to attack Del? Having just discovered the happiness of Charlotte’s love, he had no intention of giving up easily.
I won’t let them hurt you, Charlie! I swear it, I won’t!
“Just tell me why, Del,” John prodded again; Owen couldn’t help but admire the rancher’s courage, unshaken after having a gun fired in his direction.
“You got stones, old man; I’ll give you that.” Clyde chuckled. “You know, I suppose there really ain’t no harm in you knowin’ why the man you trusted all these years suddenly stabs you in the back; you got a right to know why.”
“Hold your tongue,” Del hissed.
Clyde paid him no mind. “Del here got in too deep at the card table and now he owes more money than he could ever hope to repay. Herrick was the only one capable of pullin’ him out of the hole he dug.”
“I would have helped you had you asked,” John said to his friend. “I would have made sure that your debts were paid.”
“It’s too damn late to help with the problems Del’s got.”
“Shut up, Drake!”
“There ain’t no shame in it, Grissom! Gamblin’ has ruined a far better man than you, believe me.”
“I said shut up!”
“Now don’t go gettin’ all mouthy ’bout it,” Clyde said defensively. “Some folks gamble too much; some prefer drink; others eat more than their share.” He demonstrated by slapping his enormous stomach. “Anyone can overdo anythin’. I bet even the girl”—he waved the gun at Charlotte—“has got vices she can’t barely keep under control. How ’bout it, little lady? I bet you like liftin’ your skirts on the sly, don’t you? Take any fella you can for a roll in the hay!”
“Watch your damn mouth!” Owen barked, taking a step in Clyde’s direction.
“Now, now, now!” Clyde warned, leveling the gun so that it was pointed right at Owen’s face. “What did I tell you ’bout wantin’ to live? I’m beginnin’ to think you want me to put you out of your misery.”
“Leave him be!” Charlotte warned, unable to hold her tongue.
“Watch it, girlie,” Clyde warned, swinging the gun until it was now pointed at Charlotte’s head, “unless you want the same.”
Owen decided that he had to take a chance, that he had to risk being able to wrestle the gun from Clyde Drake’s hand before the man could pull the trigger. By threatening Charlotte, the bastard had gone too far. Owen was just about to spring, to try to protect the woman he loved, when the door on the side of the barn suddenly burst open, and Hale and Hannah ran inside.
Charlotte could instantly see that neither Hale nor Hannah had any idea what they were rushing into. Both were drenched to the skin, and were simply trying to get in out of the rain. Since Owen had led Charlotte and John inside, the storm had grown in velocity. Another growl of menacing thunder rolled in, closer than before.
“I told you that we shouldn’t have gone so far down the creek!” Hannah complained.
“It’s only rain,” Hale argued.
“Well, you’re not the one who catches cold easily!”
It was while Hannah was shouting at him that Hale noticed that they had entered a barn already full of people, some of them waving guns. At first, he stared at Del with disbelief, but Charlotte was amazed by how easily he took it all in, never showing surprise or fear, only slowly raising his arms and stepping back.
“What the heck’s gotten into you, Hale?” Hannah asked, still unaware of how dangerous their choice of shelter really was.
“Quiet now,” he said softly.
“Why on ear
th should I be quiet—”
“Shut your mouth, Hannah!” Owen barked, causing his sister to jump as if she’d seen a ghost.
“What’s going on here?” she yelped when she saw the guns, her hands shooting up fast. “What are you doing, Del?”
“Get over next to them others,” Clyde ordered, and both of the newcomers did as they were told. Though he and Del still held the weapons and were in control of the situation, the arrival of Hale and Hannah seemed to unsettle Carter Herrick’s henchman. “This makes things more complicated.”
“What are you talkin’ ’bout?” Del asked.
“’Fore these two showed up, the way to deal with Grant and the others was easy,” he explained. “Shoot all three of ’em and say that we come ’cross the bodies. Blamin’ it on the kid would’ve been a breeze.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Del argued, panicked and enraged at the same time. Droplets of sweat glistened on his forehead as his nerves started to get the better of him. “This wasn’t part of the deal! You never said nothin’ ’bout killin’ anyone! Not one damn word!”
“How else did you expect us to get out of here?” Clyde looked at his partner as if he were insane. “Herrick and I figured it would come to this. They know we done all the damage we been asked to do, so lettin’ ’em live ain’t no option no more!”
“We could tie ’em up…”
“And the sheriff would have us ’fore the sun rose tomorrow mornin’! No, the only answer is to just finish every one of ’em…”
“But—”
Charlotte knew that there wasn’t much time to do something, anything to get out of the barn alive. Whether it was intentional or not, Del’s worrying was delaying Clyde acting on his decision, one that looked increasingly like he wanted to murder them all. Time was running out.
But then Owen caught her eye. He was looking right at her, willing her to notice him. When she did, he smiled weakly, but it was enough to uplift her, to hope beyond hope that it wasn’t too late for their fate to be changed. She thought about how happy he made her, how meeting him had changed her life, how handsome he was, even when their lives were threatened, about what it felt like to envision her future at his side. She wanted Owen to meet her family, to celebrate Christmas with her, to make love to her again, to laugh and sing and tease and…
Dorothy Garlock - [Tucker Family] Page 24
