by Reece Butler
She woke to an unusual sound—a woman’s happy laughter. She peeked over the edge of the hayloft. Luckily, the moon was bright enough for her to see. She saw the naked white shapes of her brothers and the smaller ones of two women. Instead of being worried with five men there, the women seemed eager to touch and be touched.
She tried to figure out what was going on, but they moved into a corner. She was sure her brothers took care of one woman while the two MacDougals made the other scream her release. Because it was so dark, she hadn’t figured out how. All she knew was that the women begged to have their breasts and pussies touched, demanding more.
A week later they sent her to Virginia to become a lady.
Chapter Nine
Jessie had only one section left to check. She headed Trouble toward a cleft only visible from above.
“Well, I’ll be darned.”
She’d ridden past the rock many times from below and never knew it broke into two. From above, she saw a space wide enough for a yearling to go in headfirst. Getting it out would be murderous.
Trouble baulked when she got within six feet of the rock. She urged the horse forward but it shook its head and danced sideways.
“What’s in there, Trouble?”
She sat still and listened but didn’t hear a rattlesnake. After all the poisonous critters in Texas, a rattler didn’t scare her much. At least it was big enough to see and let you know it was near. She climbed down and tied Trouble to a branch. She looked around for cat or wolf scat, but the hard, rocky ground showed nothing.
She sniffed as she approached the rock. She wrinkled her nose. Something had died in there a while back. She yanked on the brush covering the rock split, expecting it to be rooted in the ground. Branches came loose in her hands and she fell back. She slid for a couple of feet on her ass before her hip smacked against a rock.
The thick branches in her hands were sliced clean at the roots. The cuts were grey, the outer bark curling, so it hadn’t been cut recently. Someone had a reason to hide that cleft. She scrambled back up the slope and carefully approached. This time she gently tugged on the brush screen. It came free easily. She tossed it away and stepped closer. The path zigzagged before she stepped clear, finding an open area about fifteen feet by ten.
The remains of three heads stared at her. Human. Her stomach heaved. She covered her mouth and swallowed.
“No wonder you didn’t want to come here, Trouble.”
Just speaking aloud made her feel better. Not much, but enough. She screwed her eyes shut for a moment and, as Ross and Nevin had taught her, looked to see.
The limbs weren’t pulled apart too much to identify the bodies. Carrion birds and smaller four-legged animals had done as nature intended. The one facing her was an adult male. His arms looked like they’d been behind him. She tilted her head, finding a rusty manacle still around one wrist. His boots were gone, but the rest of him was dressed. His brown-haired skull slumped sideways, jaw open as if he tilted his head and laughed.
A child curled into a C faced the left rock wall. Pants and a shirt meant it was a boy. His boots were gone as well. The brown hair left on his scalp was short, like his father.
The one in front of her was spread-eagled, bones tugged apart by hungry teeth. Long blonde hair proved the body was female. It was naked except for one black shoe. A welcome breeze cut the smell. Something fluttered on the brush to her right. She looked closer. A faded pink flowered dress, ripped up the middle. A pair of dirty white drawers hung from another branch. Someone had attached them so the branch protruded through a leg, like a trophy flag.
“Oh, God, no!”
Jessie scrambled out of there so fast Trouble startled when she appeared.
She fell to her knees, retching. When she could haul herself to her feet she stumbled toward Trouble. The horse danced sideways, but Jessie had no time for nonsense. She hauled herself into the saddle and raced for the cabin as fast as she could. She trusted Trouble to get her there because she could see nothing through her tears.
* * * *
Ace saw the small boy on the ugly white horse galloping downhill toward them.
“Blast it, boy! Slow down!” he yelled.
Sin ran from the barn as the brat neared. “What the hell’s got into Jessie?”
“I don’t know, but if he injures that horse I’ll whip him so hard he’ll not sit—”
“They’re dead!” screamed Jessie.
The boy slid off the ugly horse, grabbing the saddle to stay upright. Snot and tears covered his face.
Sin pulled him into his arms and pressed the snotty face against his shirt. “Shh, I’ve got you. Breathe, so you can talk.” Jessie shuddered. His thin arms wrapped around Sin’s waist.
Though Ace was fastidious by nature, he felt a stab of—jealousy?—at Sin holding the boy so familiarly. No, not jealousy. Someday when he was a father, he wanted his child to turn to him like that. When clean, of course.
“I was looking for p-places where cattle could get caught. I squeezed through between a split rock and, and—I found a family,” said Jessie between hiccups. “Three of them. They tied the man’s hands behind the tree, and then they…oh, God!”
“You’re doing great,” murmured Sin. He kissed the kid’s hair. Ace frowned. He hadn’t seen the boy without a hat before. Brown curls covered his head. The sun bounced light off them. Ace shook himself out and stepped back. Suddenly, he was furious. Sin paid no attention to him, too busy soothing the brat.
“What family?” yelled Ace.
Jessie pushed himself out of Sin’s arms when Ace yelled. The boy wiped his face with his sleeves.
“I think they used to own this land. Ranger told me Smythe said they went to California. But they didn’t go anywhere. Someone murdered them!”
Ace saw more tears welling. The small chin quivered. If he didn’t do something the child would fall apart. He did the same thing the man who raised him for the first five years, would do.
“Stop acting like a girl and pull yourself together. They’re dead. They’ve been dead for at least a year. They’re not going anywhere tonight.” Jessie’s wide eyes stared at him. At least he had the boy’s attention. “Your horse is all lathered. Go take care of it. And wash your face. It’s covered in snot!”
Sin growled something at him, but he turned his back and marched away. Let them think he was a bastard. Sometimes a leader had to be.
“Where you going, Langford?”
Sin hadn’t called him that, using that tone, in a long, long time. For some reason he was protective of the boy. What Sin did with Jessie was not his problem.
“We need the sheriff before it gets dark. If you want to do something constructive, close off the area so it doesn’t get disturbed. And make sure that boy takes care of his horse, or he’ll get six of the best when I return.”
“The best what?” asked Jessie in a small voice.
“When we were in school, the masters used wooden canes on our backsides,” explained Sin. “‘Six of the best’ means six hard strokes.”
Ace listened to the silence as he saddled his horse.
“Nobody beats my ass with a stick!”
Ace choked a laugh. He wouldn’t use a stick. He’d use his bare hand, skin on skin. And he’d slide his fingers—
He stumbled back from the horse, hands tightly fisted. What the hell was the matter with him? He’d never, ever touch a child, boy or girl! So why did Jessie make him want to do those things?
He quickly finished saddling his horse and rode off. He saw Jessie out of the corner of his eye. The boy had moved far from the cabin. Jessie glared at him, jaw clenched, and snapped a long whip. The top of a weed shot away. He did it again, to prove it was no accident.
Ace felt his cock shrivel. If he ever had inappropriate feelings for the boy again, all he had to do was remember that picture. He bet Jessie imagined the whip snapping off pieces off Ace’s body, rather than the tips of weeds.
“Blast,” muttere
d Ace to his horse. “Another bloody thing the boy excels at.”
* * * *
“It’s the Sinclairs, all right.”
Sheriff Chambers scowled in the lamplight. Three bodies waited on the wagon behind the barbershop. In the morning George Byers would build three coffins. Not four. Molly, the daughter, was missing. If she was alive, she’d be sixteen. The last time anyone saw the pretty girl she had long, blonde hair like her mother. It explained why the girl was taken rather than killed. She’d be worth a lot of gold.
“What happened, Frank?”
He looked around for the speaker, but all he saw was a wall of men. He’d never been a tall man, and the last few years he’d lost an inch. Every damn man from the valley and half the town filled his jail. Too many were over six feet. From the angry comments, someone must have said how they found the Sinclairs. If Smythe was in town, they would have lynched him by now.
“Listen up! I’m only going to say this once. And fer Christ’s sake, could you move back so I can see more than a foot in front of me?”
“Better stand on your desk, Frank. We’re a mite too agitated.”
Frank grumbled at Trace’s suggestion but followed it. The grumbles died when he stared out at them.
“First, there’s no proof who murdered the Sinclair family. They were found up on the ridge of what’s now the Double Diamond Ranch.”
“I got gold says Smythe had something to do with it!”
Frank didn’t catch who yelled the comment, but most of the room nodded.
“Jennet said he paid out the gold in full,” said Frank. “They could have been robbed as they made their way east.”
“I don’t trust that pompous banker.”
“It’s mighty suspicious.”
“Them miners coulda done it.”
“What about road agents? Smythe told everyone he bought them Sinclairs out with gold. They coulda gone after ’em.”
“What did you find?” As usual, Trace’s rasp cut through everyone else.
“The man’s hands were shackled behind his back, around a tree.” Frank took off his hat and waited until the hubbub died down. It was too personal to use names. “I figure they killed the boy first.” He certainly hoped they did. A quick death with a knife would be a blessing. “When they were finished with his wife, they killed her too then rode away. Don’t know how long it took the man to die.”
Frank rubbed a shaking hand over his face. He was getting too damn old to see what evil happened to good people. He looked around the room. Should he say it? If he didn’t, it was bound to come out anyway.
“They hung his wife’s dress and drawers like a flag, marking the spot like a trophy.”
“Fuck!”
“Lynch the bastards!”
“Smythe better not come near or—”
Frank held up his hand. It took a while, but the room finally stilled.
“Their little girl, Molly, wasn’t there. She was fifteen last year.”
Silence as every man swallowed.
“Don’t she have long, blonde hair like her ma? Used to sing like a canary, so sweet it made yer teeth hurt?”
Frank nodded at Walt Chamberlain’s question. The man’s face crumpled. He slumped and turned away. Frank wished he could do the same.
“Someone might have seen a pretty blonde girl,” continued Frank. “Mind you, she might not be so pretty by now.”
“As long as she was worth something, they’d keep her alive,” said Ranger. “Maybe she was sold to a sporting house in Bannack or Virginia City.”
“I’ll ask Miss Lily,” said Trace. “I’m putting out a reward for a hundred dollars for every man brought to justice.” He glared around the room. “I mean proof, in a court of law. I expect Lily will match the amount.”
“Add another from the MacDougals for the lass,” bellowed Gillis. His face was redder than normal, and he blinked rapidly, likely from thinking of his baby daughter. If someone harmed Hope, Frank might find the remains sliced into pieces by the great sword hanging over the MacDougal fireplace. Highland Scot justice.
Over five hundred dollars was pledged in the next few minutes. Frank expected others would add to the amount as soon as they knew about it. The situation was every caring man’s nightmare.
“No one goes after them,” said Frank, raising his voice over the mumbles of approval. “This is too big to have someone go off half-cocked. We do this right. That means we follow the law.” He caught every eye in the room, not looking away until they nodded agreement. “Most important is saving Molly. When she’s safe, or we know she’s dead, then we go after who did it.”
Frank climbed off his desk as the men cleared out, all but Trace, Sin, and Ranger. He expected to see Ranger and maybe Trace stick around, but Sin was a surprise. Taller than Trace and blond to their dark, he waited behind the Elliotts. While he said nothing, Frank felt the fury radiating off him like a forest fire.
“You boys got something to talk to me about?”
Trace nodded.
“Thanks for not saying who found the Sinclairs,” said Ranger.
Frank looked from one hard face to another. It hadn’t taken him more than a few minutes to figure out who “Jessie” was. He couldn’t believe the others didn’t know. Ace, for instance. There was something between them, but Jessie was too innocent to recognize it. Ace, totally focused on making the ranch work, didn’t realize the “boy” was a woman.
“You mean Jessamine Elliott?” Frank looked at Sin. The man nodded. His big man’s chin jutted forward, lips pressed tight.
Frank held all traces of expression off his face. He’d thought Sin’s anger was directed toward saving Molly, but his protection extended to Jessie, as well. Now that he thought of it, Sin stayed close to Jessie all the way from the Double D. When they dismounted at the scene, Jessie stood slightly behind him and pointed. Sin had the look of a smitten man, yet Jessie also looked to Ace. Frank mentally tucked the tidbit in the back of his hatband. One or the other, another wedding was surely on the way. Mary would be pleased when he told her about it. His wife loved weddings. He’d put his bet on Ace standing in front of a preacher. While Sin wanted Jessie, it was clear Ace was the chief of the operation.
“What do you want me to do, or not do, about the ‘lad’?” asked Frank.
“We don’t want anyone to know Jessie’s female,” said Trace. “Doc said he’d keep quiet. Now we want your word on it.”
“How long you think you can keep it a secret?”
“All we need is another week or so,” said Ranger. “Soon as Jessie’s three weeks are up with the Double Diamond, she’ll hightail it over to the Bitterroot and demand I take her on as a full partner.”
“You planning on doing that?”
“Hell, no!” Ranger scowled. “Why you think I made her work for the Double D?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you explain it to me, son?”
“I’d like to hear this,” agreed Sin. He settled back on his heels and crossed his arms.
Ranger looked at Frank, then Sin. He shrugged. It was such a small motion he might not even be aware he’d done it.
“Just before Patrick and I left Texas, we found out The MacDougal’s got plans for Jessie to marry Fin Junior. I couldn’t get word to her.” He heaved a sigh. “I was so damned glad when she showed up as the herd came past town.”
“Another thing you hid from me,” growled Trace to his younger brother. “My baby sister comes home, and it took Sin to tell me.”
“I knew you’d ‘protect’ her so much she’d never find a husband.”
Frank motioned for Trace to deal with his brother later. “What’s that got to do with the Double Diamond?”
Ranger raised an eyebrow at Sin, who gave the same back. He focused on Frank.
“Ace, Sin, and Henry joined the herd when we were a few days south of here. I watched how they worked and took measure of them. They rode well but had a lot to learn. They worked damned hard with no complaints.
I liked what I saw. I asked Trace about them, since they’re valley neighbors.”
“I already figured out why,” said Trace.
“Jessie was so damn eager to buy in with Ben, Patrick, and me. I couldn’t turn her away, but, dammit, she needs to get married, and not to Fin MacDougal!” Ranger turned to Sin. “I figured one of you three would make a damn good husband for my sister.” Ranger’s shoulders relaxed, and he snorted a laugh. “From the way things are done in this valley, I guess all three of you’ll be her husband. If, that is, she marries one of you.”
They all looked at Sin. His eyes almost twinkled, and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Ace will marry Jessie,” said Sin. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
“He’d better not touch her before the wedding,” growled Trace. He held up a finger and pointed it at Sin like a revolver. “None of you better touch her.”
“What does Jessie think of this plan of yours?” asked Frank.
Her brothers groaned and cursed.
“She better not find out until she’s happily married,” replied Ranger. He grimaced and scratched his beard stubble. “Otherwise she’ll use the skills Ross taught her and stake me out by a red ant nest.” He chuckled and turned to Frank. “She did it once to Fin, only she put honey in a trail to his unbuttoned pants. He was passed out drunk and didn’t notice until the bites woke him. Just thought you might need to know she has a wicked way of getting back if someone hurts her.”
All four men winced.
Ranger’s smiled faded. “Fin liked to hurt her. The MacDougal kept us from her as much as possible. We taught her all we could, so she could protect herself.”
Trace pressed his lips together so hard they turned white. He turned to Ranger. “It hurt like hell to let you four go to The MacDougal when Ma and Pa died. I wanted to keep you, but—”
