by DiAnn Mills
“Where are Clint and Lester?”
“None of your business.”
“Are they even alive?”
Simon buried his fingers into her flesh. “Bein’ sassy won’t save you, so you best shut up. I did good by you, and you owe me.”
“How did you ever do ‘good’ by me?”
“Made sure you had food in your belly.”
“But you stole and killed people to get it,” she said, sounding braver than she thought. “I’d rather have died.”
“Don’t think I didn’t want that to happen. Having you gone would have meant more for the rest of us.”
“Then leave me alone.”
“Brave talk for a stupid fool.”
I’m not a fool, and I’m not stupid. A burst of courage swept through her. “What about Lizbeth? Why didn’t you settle down with her?” She’d heard Clint and Lester laughing about him sneaking over to Lizbeth’s when her husband was gone. Lizbeth’s husband liked to hunt more than he cared for his wife, so Simon took care of what she needed. At least Simon claimed so.
“I got tired of her.”
“You killed her husband and abandoned her with your baby. Explain that to me.”
He sneered, and the pressure increased on her arm. One more bruise to remind her of what he could do if he put his mind to it.
“Why didn’t you put that life behind you and work at being respectable?”
“You mean livin’ poor while other folks did good? No thanks.”
“Lizbeth didn’t care about money. She cared for you. Told me so.”
“She killed any feelings I could have had for her,” he said. “When I shot her old man, she acted like I was an animal. I did what was best for her and the baby. But she didn’t look at it that way. The look in her eyes made me sick. Come to think of it, she looked at me the same way you do.”
“Have you beaten her too?”
He released his hand from her arm and shoved her across the room and onto the floor. Her head hit the table leg. Simon stood over her, his legs spread on each side of her body. For a moment she thought she’d black out completely. A vigorous throbbing in the back of her skull threatened to make her ill. Simon’s silence meant his anger was about to explode. She knew well. Some scars never healed.
She and Lizbeth did have one thing in common—a loathing for a man that they’d once tried to love.
“Mind you, girl. You owe me. I have a job for you, so don’t try runnin'.” He kicked her in the ribs and left her. His boots thudded across the porch and down the steps.
She took a sharp breath praying her ribs weren’t broken. When the pain slowly equaled the hammering on the back of her head, she prayed Simon, Clint, and Lester were stopped. She didn’t understand any of her brothers, but she didn’t want them dead … just stopped.
CHAPTER 37
I’d hoped to find signs of your ranch hands.” John swung his leg over his horse and walked to the edge of a rocky peak. From there, a man could see for miles. He lifted binoculars to his eyes. “They hid their trail pretty good.”
“No sign of them at all.” Oberlander wiped the sweat streaming down his brow and joined John. “All we have is a string of unanswered questions, dead bodies, and rustled cattle.” He swore.
Sure glad Wirt will be courtin’ Mama instead of Victor Oberlander.
Wirt took a long drink from his canteen. “John here thinks those two weren’t smart enough to steal cattle and drive them out of the area.”
“Good point,” Oberlander said. “I always thought they were two knots short of a noose.” He laughed. “Didn’t even know how to count their pay.”
“Somebody could have been using them. But unless we can locate their bodies or bring them in for questioning, we have nothing.” Wirt dismounted and joined John and Oberlander.
John continued to scan the area with his binoculars. Elk, long-horned sheep, and cattle roamed the free range area.
“Do me a favor and tell me you see those two. Or at least the cattle,” Wirt said.
John handed him the binoculars. “See for yourself. Not a sign.”
Wirt sighed. “I may need to wire for help.”
“I’m against that,” Oberlander said. “US Marshals don’t have a stake in what’s been stolen like us ranchers who’ve lost valuable property. We’re mad and want this stopped. Deputize us and we’ll find the thieves and string them up.”
John wanted the rustlers caught, but he wasn’t about to organize a group of vigilantes. “Deputies don’t hang lawbreakers. They bring them in to stand trial.”
“Right,” Wirt said. “Neither Bob, John, nor I will put up with a hanging party.”
“I’ll make a deal with you.” Oberlander adjusted his hat. “Whoever finds those thieves first gets to choose how to deal with them.”
Wirt shook his head. “I don’t make deals like that.”
“Neither do I.”
John read the challenge in Oberlander’s eyes, a trait he’d seen in him before. “I’m asking you real politelike not to take the law into your own hands,” John said. “I’d welcome men who’d be willing to ride with us, but not on your terms.”
“And I’m telling you that I’ve put up with your law-abiding ways long enough.” Oberlander walked to his horse and grabbed the reins. “No man’s going to rustle my cattle and get away with it. I’ll pick my men, and you pick yours.”
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Wirt said.
“No chance of that. One more thing, Zimmerman. Stay away from Leah. You’re not good enough for her.”
Wirt squared off with Oberlander, eye to eye, shoulder to shoulder. “Miss Leah is quite capable of choosing which man she wants—if she wants either of us. I don’t cower to a threat. Neither do I run. Stick that in a piece of cornbread and swallow it.”
John stood back and attempted to dispel his own aggravation at Oberlander. Mama might not have all the things Oberlander had to offer, but the price she’d pay for his disrespect of the law and his temperament weren’t worth it. Yet Wirt had handled himself well, and John was pleased. Could probably take a few lessons himself since John still fumed with the arrogant owner of the Wide O.
“John, you could ride with me,” Oberlander said. “No need wasting your time with the local law and a coward of a US Marshal. You’re good with a gun, and I need men who aren’t afraid to bring a man down.”
“I believe in enforcing the law.” John put his heart behind his words. “If a man takes the law into his own hands, then he isn’t any better than those rustlers.”
“I take that as an insult.”
“Take it any way you like, Mr. Oberlander. I’m committed to the law.” John breathed in satisfaction for standing up to the man. But this wasn’t over yet. In fact, the problem had just grown worse.
CHAPTER 38
Leah stole a glance at Ember while the girl finished setting the table for supper. With the knives, forks, and spoons in place and the plates directly in front of the chairs, Leah fretted over what must be bothering Ember. Ever since Leah and Mark had returned from their afternoon ride, the girl looked pale, and her brows knit together as though she were in pain.
“Are you feeling all right?” Leah whispered.
“I’m fine.” Ember smiled, but Leah could tell it was forced.
“I don’t believe that.”
“My side’s bothering me.” She avoided Leah’s gaze.
“Ah, I see. I can fix you a cup of ginger tea to ease the cramping.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate the relief.”
Leah wrapped an arm around Bert’s waist, and she winced. “I’m sorry. Sometimes my womanly time pains me too. The supper you’ve fixed here is wonderful. Almost like a celebration.”
Ember shrugged. “I wanted to show you how much you all mean to me.”
“Oh, we know, sweet girl. All any of us need do is look at your face.” She stroked Ember’s hair, which had continued to grow and taken on the look of spun hone
y.
The door creaked open, and John and Wirt stepped inside. Leah sensed her insides bouncing as if she were a silly girl. Mercy, Wirt seemed to get more handsome every day, his shoulders broader.
“Mama, I asked Wirt for supper. Hope you don’t mind,” John said.
Leah laughed. “Ember has quite a feast for us tonight. And of course I don’t mind.”
Wirt lifted his chin. “Smells wonderful.”
Was it Leah’s wishful thoughts? Or did he seem nervous? Of late, her words twisted and stuttered until she found herself embarrassed. “I’m going to ring the dinner bell. Ember has everything done but pulling it off the stove.”
John cleared his throat. “Wirt, why don’t you give Mama a hand with the dinner bell? Sometimes it’s a bit of a chore since she’s short.” He peered at the platter of tomatoes and cucumbers on the table. “I’ll help Bert if you two will bring another tomato from the garden. I’ve got a real taste for fresh tomatoes. Could eat two of them by myself.”
Leah stared at her oldest son. Why did he want her and Wirt alone? Understanding flashed. John wanted to spend a few minutes with Ember. She snatched up the garden bucket. “I’ll make sure there are plenty.”
John and Evan must have talked about Ember. She loved it when her sons behaved like grown men.
Once outside, Wirt rang the dinner bell and carried the bucket. Together they walked toward the garden. “Thank you for allowing those two to spend time alone,” she said. “Looks like John has decided to get to know Ember better.”
“What?” Wirt’s widened eyes caused her to laugh.
“John and Ember. He must want to talk to her privately.” She gasped. “I hope he hasn’t discovered bad news.”
“The only bad news I know about is Oberlander has decided to form his own posse to find the cattle thieves.”
Trouble always came in threes, but lately it came in fours and fives. “Is there anything you can do?”
“Free country, Leah. Victor Oberlander has the right to meet like the rest of us. Only when he breaks the law can one of us step in. But Bob told me something this morning that might help. One of those ranch hands has a sister who lives in Estes Park. She might know his whereabouts.”
Leah nodded. “I wish John wasn’t a deputy, but that’s like asking the sun not to shine.” She glanced back at the house, and a shiver rose on her arms. “Is John questioning Ember again?”
Wirt coughed. “No. Not to my knowledge. He’s giving me time to talk to you.”
Leah stopped at the beginning of the row of tomatoes. “Talk to me?” But she knew. She really did.
“I asked him if I could come calling on you. If you don’t mind.”
Leah’s gaze flew to his face. Oh, such a finely chiseled one too. He had the grayest eyes and a dimpled smile. She shivered again. Heat raced up her throat. “Wirt, I’m forty-one years old with five sons. You’ve never been married.”
Wirt set the bucket down onto the ground and took both her hands into his. “Leah, you know I care about you. I want to court you proper. I want us to be married.” He pressed his lips together. “I’m not saying this right. I love you, Leah. I want to marry you and take care of you for as long as God keeps me on this earth.”
Leah’s heart fluttered, and for a moment she thought it might burst from her chest. “Wirt, are you sure? I’m not sure I can give you children, and you — ”
“I can think of nothing finer than helping you with your sons.”
She wanted to scream yes, but was it possible to have a life with Wirt? What if God said no? “I suppose I should pray about this.”
He smiled, a sweet caring upturn of his lips. “I’d expect you to.”
She wanted him to kiss her. Years had passed since Frank had sealed his love on her lips. Was she betraying him?
No, she thought not. Leah stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss across Wirt’s mouth.
A grown woman of forty-one had every right to steal a kiss from the man she loved.
John believed if a stone wall stood between him and Bert, he could break his way through. But the problems separating them were thicker than a mountain of rock. He’d set out to earn her trust, and he’d done a fine job of ruining any hope of having her confide in him. He wanted to end her fears of whoever had frightened her, but how could he when she avoided him?
“What can I do to help you with your fine supper?”
She peeked inside the oven. “Nothing. I’ll finish up as soon as everyone gets inside.”
He propped his weight on one leg and then the other. “I’m really sorry for the way I acted … when you were with Evan.”
“I haven’t thought any more about it.”
He wanted to think that she had fretted about his accusations. “Guess I’m a jealous fool.”
Bert straightened, and he noted her pale face. “What did you say?”
He swallowed hard and stepped closer. “I said I acted like a jealous fool.”
“You don’t know what you’re sayin'. There are too many bad things you don’t know about me. I tried to get you to listen the night you decided to chase me down.”
“Anything you might have done was taken care of when you became a believer.”
“But the past doesn’t disappear. We both know that.”
John found himself swimming in the depths of her brown eyes. “I want to earn your trust … be your friend … build a future together.”
Tears pooled her eyes, and he ached to hold her. “John, we have no future until those who chase me are gone. Maybe not even then.”
He gathered her into his arms. She winced, and he wished he could eliminate the fear in her eyes. “Let me help you. No man should have that much power over a woman. Who is he? Who are they?”
At first she trembled and buried her face into his chest. Her quiet sobbing was all he could hear. He refused to let her go, and slowly she relaxed. “This is where you belong, Ember. Not running. Not hiding. You belong right here beside me.”
“Everything I touch or care about is destroyed.”
“Someone has filled you with lies. Trust me, please. Tell me who is after you.”
She lifted her tear-stained face from his chest. “I can’t,” she whispered. “Because all of you will be killed. You have no idea the people he’s killed … they’ve killed. I should leave, but I can’t. Am I weak? Am I selfish for wanting to stay with you and your family?”
John could only draw her closer to him. He had no answers. He’d prayed for guidance but God hadn’t responded. Or maybe John wasn’t listening hard enough.
She pulled herself away from him and stepped back. “You’d best tend to things outside. I need to finish supper, and I can’t do that with you here.”
John noted her stubborn stance, how her jaw tightened and the way she pressed her lips together. “All right. I’ll leave you alone. But someday we’re going to talk about us—you and me.” He reached out and rubbed her shoulders, wanting to draw her into his arms but knowing he needed to abide by her wishes.
Her stoic look didn’t match the pleading in her eyes. But what did that mean? He shouldn’t push her because she might run like before. Taking a deep breath, he turned and forced one foot in front of the other to the door. He grasped the latch and watched his knuckles turn white while the ache inside him for the woman he loved increased. As selfish as it sounded, he was tired of always doing things for everyone else and not following his own dreams. God help him if his thoughts were wrong, but he couldn’t let this moment pass without speaking his heart.
John whirled around and captured her gaze. “I can’t go.”
“What do you mean?” She glanced at the stove and wrung her hands. “I have things to do.”
Courage rose stronger than anything he’d ever imagined. “Nothing could be more important than what I feel for you.”
She gasped and he took quick steps back to her. Taking her into his arms, he let his thoughts find their way to his lips.
�
�I love you, Ember Rose. I can’t imagine another day of my life without you. Guess I’ve known it all along. Tell me we have a future together. I need to know now.”
Her pale face might have stopped other men, but not John Parker Timmons. He waited. Her body finally relaxed against him.
“I’m not sure I can answer you.”
He rested his chin atop her head. “I need to know.” His heart continued to pound against his chest, and he waited.
“I do love you, John. I have nothing to offer you but a horrible past, but I do love you.”
She trembled in his arms, and he held her until she calmed again. “Your love is all I need, all I ever need.”
She lifted her head, and he could resist no longer. He found her lips and drank deeply, firmly committing his love to the tiny woman in his arms. Whatever the future held, they’d face it together. Nothing could come between them. Nothing.
CHAPTER 39
John and Wirt rode up to a small stone house on the narrow road leading out of Estes Park into the Rockies. Bob had given them the name of Aggie Hanson, the sister of Ralph Hanson, who was one of the missing ranch hands from the Wide O.
John noted the blue columbines — one of Mama’s favorite wildflowers—blooming in the front of the house, and a rocker on the porch. A calico cat sat on a rag rug. Homey. It looked like a place where folks could be happy. Not a place where two potential cattle thieves might be hiding.
The two men dismounted and tied their horses to a hitching post. Revolver in hand, they scanned the area for signs of an ambush. The blood in John’s veins flowed like a flash flood. Mixed emotions always accompanied him with deputy work. He enjoyed the excitement of the chase, but he dreaded the possibility of spilled blood.
Wirt nodded and John crept around to the back of the house in case the two suspects decided to make a run for it. Chickens pecked at a sprinkling of corn on the ground. Birds sang. A butterfly fluttered past. But no sounds from inside the house. Memories of Leon’s demise filled John’s thoughts. He wasn’t about to get shot this time. Neither did he want to turn his gun on another man, unless he had to.
