Harder Than the Rest

by Shirleen Davies

  “Look, Amanda, I already told you that Grant would want you to use the credit he setup for the ranch.” Jake held up his hand when Amanda started to respond. “Now hear me out. You know this bull is critical to improving the herd. You know your Pa would approve. Right now there are at least two other ranchers who want that bull. The one who gets it is going to be in real good shape. The ones who don’t, well, they’ll have a long ways to catch up. This is a prize animal and there just isn’t another like him, not in these parts, anyway. We don’t want them to know we’re close to getting it. May start a bidding war. Let’s just pay the price and move the bull over to the Big G.”

  “There’s only one man that would cause problems and try to outbid us, but he’s got other issues with my father and me, and you know it. The others don’t have the funds. Most have been very supportive of my father’s wishes for me to learn the business. Gordon’s the only one that seems to be against the idea, and he’s been running out of steam lately. Maybe his new wife, Eloise, is having a positive impact on him after all.” Amanda guided Angel over the steep terrain that signaled the entrance to the Taylor ranch, the Big G.

  “Maybe so, but that don’t mean he won’t try to grab that bull out from under us if he gets wind that we’re close. Any advantage, such as a prime animal like that one, gives a rancher an edge. There’s been bad blood between Gordon Bierdan and your father for as long as I can remember, and Gordon’s always wanted the Big G. Never figured why he thought your Pa would sell. It’s common knowledge that Grant plans to pass the ranch on to you someday. But, when that day comes, I think Gordon will do whatever it takes to get it from you.” Jake followed Amanda down the steep slope. They could’ve taken the easier path through the valley, but it would’ve taken longer, and Amanda was anxious to get back to her ten-year-old brother, Joey.

  “I know you’re right,” Amanda conceded. “For now, let’s focus on bringing that bull home. Pay what you have to and I’ll draw from the bank if needed.” She liked Jake and respected him a great deal. He was her father’s foreman and had been a fixture at the ranch since before Amanda was born. All the ranchers respected him, which proved to be a great benefit to someone like Amanda, who’d spent the last few years in school back East. Jake had to be over fifty, but her father had said more than once that he’d hate to go up against him in a fight. She understood.

  ******

  Splitshot, New Mexico

  Will sat in his room at the boarding house, looking at an old, faded poster of the man he would go after next. Groups were his preference—two, three, four—didn’t matter, he just preferred going after more men to spending his time on only one. But this one was different. This was the one he needed to get. Maybe then he could put the past behind him, at last.

  Emily. His heart always twisted when he thought of his wife and their unborn child. How different his life would have been if she were still here.

  He sank deeper into the bed, rested his arm over his eyes, and thought of that one horrific day that had driven him across three territories, a couple of states, and might eventually lead him to hell.

  Five years earlier, Fire Mountain, Arizona

  “Will, you’re talking crazy. No one names a boy Apollo or a girl Aphrodite. Can you imagine the teasing from other children? Not to mention what your brothers would say to those names. Nope. There is no chance you get to the name the baby.” Emily had grown used to Will’s humor. He’d always been the one to liven things up and tease her into laughing. Of all the MacLarens, he could be counted on to find the absurdity in a bad situation.

  She sat back against the hard seat of the wagon as they continued on the rutty road to the neighbor’s ranch. The MacLaren’s wanted a foal from Ed Williamson’s mare to strengthen their breeding program. He’d agreed to sell them the next little filly the mare produced, and now they were heading over to view it. Wouldn’t be ready to bring back for a while, but Emily couldn’t wait that long. Truthfully, neither could Will.

  “Well then, how about we name the filly Aphrodite, or maybe Athena? Both are great names.” Will tried to straighten his long legs and adjusted in his seat. He’d much rather they were on horses, but there wasn’t a chance he’d let Emily ride at this point in her pregnancy.

  Emily held her hat down with one hand and peered over at her husband as the names rolled around in her mind. “Athena? Well, that may be a good name for the filly. Has a certain ring and there sure isn’t anyone else who’d use it.” She smiled. “Guess we’ll just have to see her before we make a decision.” Emily beamed at the thought of the filly and the fun she’d have training her. Athena might, indeed, be an appropriate name for the very special animal that was destined to improve their breeding program. Emily looked ahead at the bend in the trail that would take them past a pine forest. They would start the descent to the valley below soon, and on toward the Williamson’s ranch. Not long now.

  It all happened in seconds. One minute they were laughing, joking about baby names, and the next they were surrounded by six men, all with guns pointed at them. Too late, Will tried to reach for his pistol. One of the men got off a shot that hit Will in the shoulder, while another man produced a whip and slashed it around Will’s neck, pulling him backwards into the bed of the buckboard. The whip tightened so he couldn’t breathe, and yanked him to the ground below. Will tried to work his fingers between the leather and his neck.

  Emily screamed, called his name. Her voice—strident and insulting—abraded the man who had shot her husband. Will fought unconsciousness. His fingers tore at the whip around his neck. His lungs burned. He called to her, but no sound emerged. Will tried, one last time, to lift his head. The whip jerked again, dragged him through the dirt, further from the buckboard. His mind screamed his wife’s name. He grabbed wildly for anyone, anything, but caught only air. Will fought. Emily’s screams faded and died. His struggles slowed. He lost the fight. His mind closed and darkness took over.

  ******

  Will didn’t know how long he’d been out. When he came to, it was dark. He shivered in the cold, damp air. He could hear men’s voices. Where am I? It started coming back to him. Men, guns, Emily. Emily! God, where is Emily? He tried to sit up but a firm hand pushed him back down.

  “Found him, Ed. Over here. Bring a blanket and water. Will’s been shot and it don’t look good.”

  Will tried to sit up, but again was pushed back to the ground. Hands gently probed the wounds on his shoulder and neck. Someone placed a blanket over him to stifle the chills.

  “Emily?” He tried to speak but all that came out were raspy sounds that even he couldn’t understand. His throat was on fire. He found it hard to get his breath.

  “God, son, what did those bastards do to you?” Ed said to himself more than anyone else. “Jim, we need to stop the bleeding and get a doc quick. Let’s load him into the buckboard. I’ll head to the ranch, see what we can do for him while you go for Doc McCauley.”

  “Ed,” Jim spoke in a soft voice so that Will wouldn’t hear. “What about Emily? We can’t just leave her. Critters could get to her before we get back.”

  “Yea, I know. Once Will is settled in the buckboard, we’ll wrap her up and place her in back with him. There isn’t anything else to do. He’s going to find out soon enough anyway. With his throat the way it is, we can’t even get him liquored up to help dull the pain.” Ed swore as he looked at the bloody form of his old friend’s nephew and thought of Emily, and the baby no one would ever know.

  Mercifully, Will passed out while they settled him into the wagon and didn’t wake during the trip to the house or when Ed called for help to carry him inside. They did all they could. The bullet to his shoulder had hit high on his right side and passed clean through. The wound to his neck caused the most concern.

  “Where is he?” Ed could here the doctor, Caleb McCauley, shout as he came into the house.

  “Back here, doc, in my office. Didn’t want to risk getting him upstairs. He’s hurt bad. Hope
you can help him.” Ed looked down at the young man and prayed he’d make it.

  Caleb didn’t reply, just rolled up his sleeves, walked to the kitchen to wash his hands, then returned to focus on his friend. He’d known Will for several years, since a stagecoach accident had injured Caleb and his traveling companions. They were all brought to Fire Mountain, and all had stayed. Sam Browning became a deputy sheriff, Kate Garner married Will’s brother, Niall, and Caleb took over the medical practice of the town’s long-time physician, Doc Minton.

  Will drifted in and out of consciousness. The doc made quick work of his shoulder wound, then began to focus on the more difficult throat damage. The whip had cut deep into his neck, damaged several layers of skin, and penetrated the muscles around his throat. By all rights Will should be dead from what those bastards had done, but somehow he had survived. Caleb wondered if Will would care once he learned of Emily and their unborn child.

  ******

  It should be me in that box, Will thought as they gently lowered Emily into her grave. Doc McCauley told him he wasn’t recovered enough to attend, but the doc knew his friend wouldn’t listen. As he suspected, Will refused to stay behind. He would be there for her, and their baby. He couldn’t save them, but he wouldn’t be denied saying goodbye.

  John and Marie Ellen Jacobson, Emily’s parents, stood on his right while his brothers stood on his left. Even Drew had taken time from his legal studies to come home and support his twin brother. All four brothers together. It had been rare the last few years, but the senseless violence that had cost them Emily had also reunited them.

  Ed had sent for Will’s oldest brother, Niall, and other brother, Jamie, the night of the attack. They had arrived within a few hours and found Will upstairs, swearing in an almost unintelligible rasping voice, demanding answers. Wanting Emily.

  He’d gone crazy when Niall had told him about the tragedy.

  “She was beaten, Will. Badly from the looks of it.” Niall words were soft and pained, but his voice was firm. “Her clothing was torn. Doc McCauley believes she was strangled to stop her from screaming, while they…huh…” he paused to take a shaky breath, but couldn’t continue.

  The recognition on Will’s face was instantaneous.

  It had taken both brothers, plus Ed, to hold Will down while Caleb administered laudanum. After the effects wore off, he didn’t react at all, and refused anything that might dull the pain. He wanted to feel it—yearned to do whatever he could to allow the agony he felt to continue. He deserved no less. Even his twin brother, Drew, who was closer to him than anyone else, had been pushed away. Will wanted no comfort, no excuses, no words from anyone saying it wasn’t his fault. In his heart, he knew they were wrong. In his heart, he’d already accepted that he was responsible for their deaths.

  Two days passed without further response from Will, worrying everyone, but no one more than his Aunt Alicia. She, with her late husband Stuart, had raised all four boys when their parents were killed years before. She couldn’t have loved them more if they’d been her own sons. Their love for her was just as strong.

  Alicia stayed next to him at the grave site when the service was over. “Would you like us to stay awhile?”

  Will continued to stand, staring at the open grave. He didn’t answer her.

  Niall walked up and laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Will shrugged it off and continued to stare into the nothingness in front of him. From where he stood, his life was now just an open void without meaning or direction. How could they understand the dark despair he felt, or the guilt?

  Chapter Three

  Will woke with a start as the sound of gunfire penetrated his brain. A dream. He’d had another dream. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he swiped at the dampness with his hand. The gunfire started again. What the hell was happening? Reaching for his gun belt, he jumped from the bed to look out the window above the street. Nothing for a moment, then another shot rang through the early morning air.

  Will threw on his pants, boots, and shirt, strapped on the Colt, grabbed his rifle, and took the stairs at a run. He paused outside the hotel and listened again. It sounded like the shots were coming from down by the jail.

  “Let him out, Cord. You know you can’t hold him for killing that drifter,” a man yelled. “There’re plenty who’ll say he pulled his gun on my boy first. It was self-defense, pure and simple.”

  When the sheriff didn’t respond, the man and his two companions started to pepper the jail with more bullets.

  “That’s enough, gentlemen.” A strong, hard voice came from behind the three men. Turning as one, they saw a lone man behind them with a rifle leveled at the one who had been yelling for Cord. “I’m sure the Sheriff will be happy to speak with you if you lay down your guns and walk in peaceably.”

  “This is none of your business, stranger. This is between us and the Sheriff.”

  “Maybe so, but anyone shooting up the jail like that is either asking for a bullet or too stupid to understand the trouble he’s stirring up.” Will’s voice didn’t waiver, and he focused even more firmly on the one man who seemed to be the leader. “Now, throw your guns down and we’ll all go inside so this matter can be cleared up.”

  The man’s face turned dark red at the obvious insult.

  “There’s three of us, mister. You’ll be dead by one of us. Can’t kill us all.”

  “That might be true, but you’ll go with me, unless you talk your friends into laying down their guns. Now.” Will was out of patience.

  The man seemed to think it over a minute before responding. “Lay down your guns, boys,” he said through gritted teeth. “We’ll go in and talk to Cord, like the stranger here says. Then we’ll take Harley home.”

  The others dropped their guns and dismounted to join their leader near the door of the jail. Will kept a close eye on all three, his gun never wavering.

  “Cord? It’s Will. I’m coming in with these three ingrates. Don’t shoot.”

  The sheriff opened the door, gun in hand, and motioned them all inside.

  “Take a seat, Floyd, and tell me what you want.” Cord’s voice was affable, but Will recognized the steel behind the words. He followed the men through the door and leaned against the doorjamb, gun ready, as the others found chairs or leaned against a wall.

  “We came for Harley. You can’t arrest him for protecting himself from that drifter. We got witnesses who’ll back us up.” Floyd Bell glared at the sheriff.

  “That so? And just who would those witnesses be?” Cord clearly didn’t believe the man.

  “Well, Fred Stone, for one, and Davey Stewart for another.” Bell didn’t like being questioned, especially by a low-paid lawman. Hell, he was a prosperous rancher, part of the town council that had hired McAllister, and made at least ten times what the sheriff made.

  “Can’t see how that can be, Floyd. Fred and Davey got rowdy early. Had to put them in cells to sleep it off. Let them out late last night when I brought Harley in. Couldn’t stand the noise with all three shouting.” Cord knew Floyd wouldn’t leave without Harley, and wouldn’t hesitate to exert his power with the town leaders to get his son released.

  The room fell silent.

  “You listen to me, Cord. I helped hire you and I can see that you’re run out of Splitshot just as quick. We thought you understood the rules when you took the badge, but appears not. Some things, Sheriff, are just, shall we say, ignored, if you get my meaning.” The rancher’s voice had risen along with the color in his already ruddy complexion.

  “Do what you think you must, Floyd. Harley killed a man last night and I have three witnesses that saw the whole thing. To a man, they stated Harley drew first after he couldn’t shame the man into pulling his gun. Best thing you could do for your son is get a good lawyer, because believe me, he’s going to need one.” Cord paused to confirm there was no confusion on his stance. “By the way, did I mention that I’m one of the witnesses?”

  Floyd’s fist slammed down on the s
heriff’s desk. “Damn you, Cord. You’re making a big mistake forcing this. I’ll be back with an order from the judge to release him, and Harley better be in good shape when I return.” He motioned to the other two to head out. Floyd shoved past Will, knocking him into the jamb in his rush to leave the jail behind.

  “I’d say that went well,” Cord snorted, pulling out his chair to sit and motioning for Will to do the same.

  “Who are they?”

  “Floyd Bell, his son, Carl, and one of his hands. Other son is Harley, locked up in back. Bell thinks he owns this town, but most others don’t agree and would like nothing better than to see him taken down a bit.”

  “Harley guilty?”

  “As they get. He’ll probably hang for this one, unless his Pa manages to buy-off the judge and intimidate a few others. They’re a rotten group, Will. Too bad, cause the town has a lot of real good people.” Cord sighed as he leaned back in his chair, entwining his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

  “Why do you stay?” Will had never understood why Cord stayed in the small town. Although the trees and elevation could be majestic, a showplace it wasn’t. “You could move back to Fire Mountain. Hell, Niall would hire you right off, and probably any number of others.”

  “Been thinking about that. June’s from here. Her parents still lived in Splitshot when we married. Now that they’re gone, no real reason to stay. You know my family’s still in Fire Mountain, and Pa’s not getting any better. Ma writes that his back is getting worse every day and he tires easily. Got a message from the Deputy Sheriff, Sam Browning, that Sheriff Joe Rawlins is retiring. Can you imagine? He’s finally giving it up. Anyway, Joe wants Sam to take over as Sheriff. Sam’s asked me if I’m interested in being his deputy.” Cord smiled at the thought of heading back to Arizona and continuing as a sheriff. “Yep, going home sounds better all the time, and we may just do it. You could come with us, Will.” Cord sat up and folded his hands on the desk. “Might even let you boss me around if I decided not to work with Sam and went to work at your place instead. Great opportunity for you to get back at me.” His smile widened. Cord hoped his friend would at least consider it.