by DiAnn Mills
While he sat on the porch steps with only his thoughts and his coat for company, the sound of horse hooves drew his attention. He wrapped his fingers around the rifle beside him and waited until he heard Wirt’s voice.
“Davis, you run and get your mama,” Wirt said. “We’ll help Mark down from his horse.”
Alarm jolted John, and he rose to his feet. “What’s wrong with Mark?”
“I’m fine. Just a bad headache. When I get my hands—”
“Hush,” Evan said. “Someone hit him in the back of the head. He’s got a nasty cut and a lump.”
“I — ”
“Quiet,” Wirt said. “Listen to your brother.” He jumped down from his horse. “John, I’m sorry. I didn’t get there in time to help.”
John hurried to help Wirt and his brothers with Mark. “What happened?”
“Rustlers hit him in the head just before they run off with all of our cattle.” Evan’s words ripped through John. Ember gone and now this?
“All of our cattle? Did you see any of the men?”
Mark moaned. “Just before I got hit, a man said this was from Bert.”
Bert? “You must have heard wrong.”
“Then where is she? My guess is she’s gone. Joined up with her no-good brothers,” Aaron said, his voice resounding against the night. “Sure would like to ask her a few things. She’s behind this. I’m sure of it. What kind of person uses others and then betrays them? Tell me, John. Does she care about you or is she using you?”
“Calm down. We’ll wake her and see what she knows,” Evan said.
“No, you won’t,” John said, his voice brimming with anger at what this meant. “She’s been missing all day. We’ve tried to find her—”
“What?” Evan said. “What do you mean she’s ‘missing'?”
“Gone. Not here.” John swung Mark’s arm over his shoulder. “I tried to follow the tracks of two horses that were involved, but they rode into the mountains.” She can’t be behind this.
“Mark’s right,” Aaron said, and John didn’t dispute him.
“Come daylight, I’ll ride with you to where the cattle were stolen,” Evan said. “I’ve already thought about alerting Bob Culpepper and Uncle Parker.”
John allowed the tragedy of the night to sink in. “Parker’s here. And we’ve got about three hours until daylight.”
The door squeaked open, and John realized Davis had wasted no time in getting Mama out of bed.
“Mark’s been hurt?” Mama’s voice cracked.
John and Evan carried him between them into the house.
“Looks like Ember’s had a hand in this,” Aaron said. “Our cattle are gone. John was shot. Now Mark’s got a lump on his head. Men are dead. What did we do to her that she’s caused all of this trouble?”
John should have defended her. He should have said Aaron didn’t have proof. But John didn’t know what the truth was anymore. And he feared they were right.
CHAPTER 54
As soon as the pink and purple hues of near dawn touched the horizon, John, Parker, Wirt, and Evan dug their heels into their mounts and rode across the 5T to where the cattle had been stolen near the summer pasture. At the site where sparse and worn grass and shrub existed together, all that remained were cattle prints and the telltale remains of a campfire.
John dismounted first to look for boot prints. Lack of sleep and feelings as torn as a battle-scarred flag, he weighed finding Ember’s small footprints as proof of her guilt or not locating her tracks at all, which meant she could have been killed. In his near panic mind-set, he continued to tell himself she was alive. But visions of the recent dead men would not let him go.
How did a man deal with mixed feelings? He despised the thought of her betraying him, using his love against him. Had she lied to all of them about the abuse and the beatings? And what about using his family? Yet the prospect of finding her dead wrenched at his soul. God forgive him, but he didn’t know which tragedy would be worse. He was a selfish man, not a godly one. The realities of life took priority over feelings. He knew it. He tried to accept it.
“Over here,” Evan called.
John swung his attention to his brother who’d bent to examine tracks. Evan lifted his head and peered at him. “She was here.” His voice barely registered above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
John stopped. He willed his feet to join his brother. “Are you sure?”
Evan pressed his lips together and nodded, his focus glued on John. “She’s been wearing Mama’s old shoes, the ones that had a worn heel on the left foot.”
John forced himself to walk toward Evan. With a deep sigh, he knelt and saw for himself. The prints were Ember’s. Every nerve ending in his body went numb. Then the sensation turned to grief. Every indication pointed to her guilt.
Bert counted three other men who rode with Clint and Lester.
She recognized one as a man who’d ridden with Leon. Where could they drive this many cattle without the law catching up? Unless they planned to change the brands.
At daybreak, the men drove the cattle into a canyon on the far west side of the Wide O. Now that was stupid. Mr. Oberlander had ranch hands who’d discover them, and they had orders to shoot trespassers. She supposed a few more dead men meant nothing to her brothers.
With the gag in her mouth, she couldn’t ask questions. Instead she allowed the why’s and where’s to roll around in her head. The filthy bandana tasted of dirt and smelled of sweat and tobacco. Much more of this and she’d be sick all over Clint’s back.
John pulled his slicker from his saddle bag and shrugged into it. The rain had started in spits, then increased to a downpour. He, Evan, Bob, Wirt, and Parker followed the herd south. When the thieves had left miles behind them, they’d find a place to hide in one of several canyons. This was an organized plan, strategically set in place by a clever man. The manner in which the cattle had disappeared left John believing someone had spent time watching his every move. Ember. He’d trusted her … believed her. If he weren’t a grown man, he’d shed a few tears. But his concern about her was turning to betrayal.
“It’s rained nearly every day for the past two weeks,” Evan said. “Hard to follow a herd of cattle when the tracks disappear and the rain blinds you. But it can be done.” He pulled his poncho up around his neck. “All we have to do is look harder.”
Rumbling from the mountains behind him seized John’s attention. He turned to see a steadily blackening sky over the mountains, moving their way. Rain soaked a man to the bone; lightning killed him. But John preferred taking his chances with the storm on an open range to losing his cattle.
Parker rode up next to John. “They’re at least six hours ahead of us,” he said. “Maybe more, depending on how fast they drove the herd last night. Let’s get out of this weather and talk about what we can do.”
John wanted to shout that Parker looked like a coward wanting to stop the search because of bad weather. But John knew he was the foolish one. He also knew trekking out alone invited a shooting—his own. Riding on for several feet, he searched for words and reasoning.
“Uncle Parker’s right,” Evan said. “The lightning’s getting closer. There’s no denying another storm’s coming through.”
“John, I understand how you feel with all of your livestock gone and Ember missing,” Parker said. “But the cattle won’t move fast in this storm.”
Lightning flashed a jagged sword across an angry sky followed by thunder that shook the ground. Horses reared. John turned to Bob and saw the man slumped over his saddle. Alarm jolted him. “Bob, what’s wrong?”
The marshal weaved and fell from his horse onto the mud splattered ground.
The men pulled their horses to a halt and dismounted. Parker got to Bob first. “My chest,” Bob whispered. “Been hurting me for a while.”
His heart. John remembered those times he’d seen Bob clutch his chest. “Can we get him on his horse and to shelter? The High Plains Ranch is the close
st. Sparky and his wife will lend a hand.”
“I’ll hurry to town and get Doc Slader.” Evan swung around his horse.
Parker peered up at Evan. “Be careful in this storm.”
Evan didn’t take the time to respond, but dug his heels into his horse’s side and raced toward Rocky Falls in the blinding rain.
John helped Parker and Wirt hoist Bob onto his saddle. He glanced toward the mountains where stone canyons stood guard over a strip of land that stretched for hundreds of acres. That stretch belonged to the Wide O, right where those cattle thieves had driven his herd.
“Why don’t you ride on to the High Plains? I’ll be right behind you.”
“Where are you headed?” Parker said.
John pointed to a ridge. “I want to see if I can spot anything from there.”
“I’m not taking you back thrown over your saddle.” Wirt had been quiet up to this point. “And I’m not allowing you to ride into a snake pit. You can’t bring in cattle thieves and murderers singlehandedly.”
“Right,” John said, irritated that Wirt and Uncle Parker still viewed him as a kid instead of a grown man. “All I’m doing is taking a look. With these binoculars, I can see into some of the canyons.
“Not in this rain,” Wirt continued.
“Take care of Bob. I’ll be there in a while.” John spurred his horse on toward the ridge and calculated how much time he had before the storm’s fury was unleashed on all of them.
With the devil riding on his heels, John lost no time in climbing to a higher elevation where he could catch a glimpse of the terrain. Oberlander’s hired guns wouldn’t think twice about opening fire on him, but he’d risk it. Odd how losing everything had aroused fury and vengeance he didn’t know he had. The storm above him moved closer. Perhaps he was a fool.
Raising his binoculars to his eyes, he frowned. Wirt had been right. His visibility in the rain was poor. From what he could see there wasn’t a soul in sight. No men riding over the terrain or a large herd of cattle waiting out a storm. Holding his breath, he studied an area to the west that led to canyons large enough to hold his cattle and more. John hadn’t explored those rocks in years, but what he remembered was plenty of hideaways with only one way in. Wide O land.
John’s suspicions about Oberlander deepened. The owner of the Wide O was far too shrewd to allow his ranch hands to operate a cattle rustling outfit right under his nose.
The foolishness of venturing on by himself picked at John, but an invisible force urged him to continue. Anger, bitterness, and a desire for revenge had taken over. He should rein in those feelings that characterized him as a possible killer. He seemed blinded, yet he couldn’t stop himself. If he found where the thieves were holed up, they wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. And was Ember riding with them, or was she a captive?
The sky, a deep navy blue, grew more menacing. A jagged sword of lightning flashed, followed by a thunderous roar that spooked his horse. John swung his attention back to where the others had ridden in the direction of the High Plains Ranch with Bob. God, what next? Was Bob strong enough to survive a heart attack? Evan had disappeared in his flight to Rocky Falls to fetch Doc Slader. John hoped and prayed Bob would recover. The man definitely needed shelter from the impending storm.
The wind whipped around him, as though daring him to see what lay on the other side of the strip of Wide O land. His mind drifted back to the canyons he’d explored as a boy. With a deep breath, he dug his heels into his horse and raced toward the foothills of the canyons where he believed the thieves were holed up. They’d been looking for the cattle for weeks, and the site of one particular canyon was well-hidden, more like a stone corral. The perfect location to hide cattle—secluded and on Wide O land.
What were a few more miles when he’d lost everything?
Without the cattle, Mama and Wirt had nothing to build a home and provide for his brothers. John would never agree to relinquish the 5T to a power-hungry man like Victor Oberlander. And he hoped Wirt wouldn’t either.
And Ember … he wanted to hate her. All the good he’d seen and the sweetness were a mask for the evil in her heart. John shivered with anger so intense that he realized its fervor matched the fury of nature around him. How could God allow this to happen? Or was this punishment for not seeing through Ember’s lying ways? He’d fallen in love with a woman who’d set out to use him. John stiffened in the saddle. He didn’t understand how God could allow him to be deceived. The need, the vengeance to go after the men—and the woman—who had stolen his cattle stalked him like a lone, hungry wolf. They were about to meet the end of his smoking gun.
CHAPTER 55
John followed the tracks of cattle and shod horses toward the canyon, its narrow entrance hidden by rock. The thieves would have a difficult time herding cattle through the narrow opening and down into the canyon, but once inside, the area opened wide.
He dismounted and led his horse through the canyon opening. Squeezing the rifle in his hand, he was ready to use it, itching to take revenge. Rain poured from the rim of his hat and off his slicker while thunder cracked with ear-piercing closeness. Standing behind a slab of rock that jutted out like an old man’s knees, John bent to study the canyon where he remembered it widened to a copper and gray stone corral. He brought his binoculars to his eyes. This was the site where his pa had taken him years before. They’d climbed down the gradual descent amazed at the beauty of rock streaked with gray and copper color. But not today.
Today the canyon was filled with his cattle and those of his friends.
In the distance, he saw Racer. So had Ember chosen to ride his stallion like she’d ridden Oberlander’s mare?
About two hundred feet from where he crouched, four men stood at strategic points ready to defend the canyon. He searched for anymore men. A small, slumped figure caught his attention and would not let him go. He held his breath. Ember huddled down in the rain with her back against the rock.
Her hands were tied.
Not what he expected from one who’d assisted cattle rustlers. He couldn’t see her face … Inching closer, he had to see if she was all right. How could he love her and want her behind bars at the same time?
“When’s this storm gonna stop?” a man cursed. “All we need is a rush of water running through this canyon and causing a stampede.”
“Stop your bellyachin'. It’ll quit soon.”
“Good. I’m hungry.”
“Lester. You’re an idiot. We ain’t buildin’ no fire here.”
Lester. Ember’s brother.
“Aw, we ain’t had no good cookin’ since Bert stole Simon’s mare.” He pointed toward the herd. “At least we got the stud horse.”
“It’s her fault we’re holed up in this canyon. She told Timmons about Simon and got him arrested.” The man turned toward Bert and delivered a kick to her thigh. She tumbled over, but she didn’t cry out. “She’ll get her due.”
John winced. Dear Lord, what have I done? His heart thudded against his chest, and his face flushed hot. He’d been wrong; he’d accused, judged, and destroyed Ember Rose without knowing the truth. He’d taken off like a foolhardy kid who thought he had the answers to everything.
The rain beat down harder in time to the misery consuming his soul. Should he attempt to free her or head back for help? Another man emerged from the shadows. Five men against one, and they were all armed. A part of him wanted to believe God would help, but why should He when earlier John had questioned God’s hand in all that had happened?
God, forgive me. I didn’t know. He remembered when Ember said she’d rather die than see any of them hurt.
Ignorance of her sacrifice didn’t make him feel any more righteous before God. He’d ignored God and hadn’t tried to listen for His wisdom and guidance. He’d gotten on his unholy horse and rode away with vengeance on his mind. He’d yearned for blood.
All this time John had longed for someone to help him through the hard times pressing down with a yok
e too heavy for any man to bear. God had been there all along, waiting for him to ask. But he’d been a bullheaded fool, insisting on living life his way and giving Him respect when times were good. What happened to the ideals of a godly man, the ones he’d tried to instill in his brothers? Oh, he’d made a few steps toward giving all of his problems to God. Then he’d snatch them back again. Did his brothers sense his stubborn pride? He hoped he hadn’t lost their respect when he’d lost his hold on God.
God, I’m so ashamed. Forgive me for pretending to be You. Worse still, for judging Ember. Help me to get her free. I don’t care about myself. Just her.
John could ride to the High Plains Ranch for help. It was less than thirty minutes away. Possibly Bob had taken a turn for the better, and Wirt or Parker could ride back with him. He’d been so full of hate that he hadn’t tended to Bob like he should have. What if the man died before John could thank him for teaching him so much about law … the nature of man … and life. Next to Parker, Bob had been a man John had modeled his life after.
He studied the rustlers again. If the rain held, the men would be here for a while. His gaze returned to Ember. If there was a way to reassure her that he’d do his best to get her free—
A rifle poked him in the back. “Don’t move, John. I’d hate to use this on a neighbor.”
Victor Oberlander.
Bert heard the commotion above the thunder and the rain splattering around her. She turned her attention to the canyon’s entrance. In the fog of the downpour, a familiar figure took form. Not John. The man she’d tried so hard to protect from her brothers walked her way. Then she saw who held a rifle on him. Victor Oberlander. How could this be? He and John were friends. He attended church. Mr. Oberlander even wanted to court Leah.
She blinked, thinking she must be daft. A Christian man didn’t get involved with cattle rustlers and killers … Did he?
