Just West of Heaven

by Maureen Child

  “Tall,” he said, leaning back in the chair, “it’s not that I don’t trust you...” And that was the truth. He had no reason to doubt the man’s integrity or his courage. “It’s just that I don’t know yet what I’m gonna do and you shouldn’t be involved. It’ll be safer for you this way.”

  “Now, damn it,” Tall said, laying both palms flat on the desk and leaning in. “If I was worried about bein’ safe, would I be wearin’ a badge pinned to my shirt?”

  “Guess not,” Ridge allowed. There were far safer jobs to be had than being a lawman. It was said that the only thing a badge did was to give a gunman a target to aim for.

  “Then how about tellin’ me the truth about what’s goin’ on?”

  Ridge thought about it, then decided to tell him. After all, if it came down to him, Sophie, and Jenna runnin’ for the hills, then Tall would be left in charge here. The man had the right to know. “Fine,” he muttered and stood up again. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the wanted poster he’d kept there for safekeeping. Unfolding it, he briefly looked down into Sophie’s face, then handed it over.

  Tall rubbed one hand nervously across his face as if now that he’d gotten what he wanted, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted it after all. But then he took the poster, glanced at it, and lifted his gaze to Ridge. “Sophie? She’s the kidnapper?”

  “She’s no kidnapper,” Ridge snapped, then rattled off the whole story, telling it as quickly and as thoroughly as he could. When he was finished, Tall crumpled that wanted poster in one fist and slapped himself in the forehead with the flat of his other hand.

  “And I turned her in,” he said, disgusted.

  “You didn’t know.”

  “Damn it, Ridge, I sent a telegram telling that son of a bitch where he could find her.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Ridge said tightly.

  “Damned if it ain’t,” Tall muttered, pacing wildly back and forth across the room. “Hell, you shoulda shot me. I woulda shot me.”

  “Thought about it,” Ridge said with a half-smile. The man was punishing himself far more than Ridge could have. Guilt was stamped all over his features and his gaze when he looked up again was clouded by shame.

  “It ain’t too late,” Tall muttered, spreading both arms out wide. “Pull your gun, I’ll stand still.”

  “Maybe I would if it’d help,” Ridge said, shaking his head. “But it won’t.”

  “What will?” Tall asked, walking toward him.

  “I don’t know,” he said, then slowly looked up into Tall’s level gaze. “But one thing I do know. I won’t let Sophie go to jail. And I won’t let that bastard have Jenna.”

  “’Course not,” Tall agreed.

  “Even if it means the three of us leave here and disappear again.” Hell, he’d lived on the dodge most of his life. He could do it again. He knew how to hide better than most men would.

  Glancing down at the badge pinned to his shirt, he realized that for the first time in a long time, he was thinking seriously about turning his back on the law.

  “You’d leave Tanglewood?”

  “If that’s the only way.”

  “Hell, Ridge,” the man said and kicked the corner of the desk. “I don’t wanna be sheriff. We’ll think of somethin’ else.”

  Ridge pushed up from his chair with a tired sigh and walked across the room to the front door. He plucked his hat from a peg on the wall and tugged it on. Then he turned to look at his deputy. “I’ve been tryin’ to do just that for the last few days and haven’t come up with anything yet. Why don’t you give it a try?”

  “I will, boss,” Tall told him. He raised his voice to be heard as Ridge walked outside. “You wait and see. This’ll work out.”

  ●

  Later, at the restaurant, though, Tall had to admit he hadn’t thought of a damn thing either. “And it’s all my fault,” he muttered into his cup of coffee, barely noticing as Mercy sidled up to refill his cup.

  “What’s your fault?” she asked.

  He flinched and told himself it was a wonder Ridge kept him on the job at all. Damn fool. Always shootin’ off his mouth or sendin’ wires when he should be quiet. Lord help Tanglewood if Ridge up and left, leaving Tall as sheriff.

  “Nothin’,” he said, and held out his cup.

  Mercy poured more coffee, then set the pot down onto the table and took a seat opposite the lanky deputy. He seemed about as miserable as a man could get, she told herself, and wondered what it was that had him looking like someone had shot his dog.

  “Tell me,” she said simply and folded her hands atop the table.

  “I can’t, Mercy,” he said, determined to finally keep his peace and not make more of a mess by shooting off his mouth. With a quick glance around the otherwise empty restaurant, he added, “Official business.”

  She shook her head, reached across the table and covered one of his hands with hers. Surprised, he looked down at their joined hands before lifting his gaze to meet hers again. “Mercy...”

  “Tall Slater,” she whispered tightly, “I been serving you coffee and such for nearly two years.”

  “Yeah, but...”

  As she talked, her frustration mounted and she squeezed his hand tightly in reaction. “I’m the one you talk to when you’re worried. I’m the one you tell when you’re happy. If you don’t know that you can trust me by now, then you never will, blast your eyes.”

  “Now, Mercy—”

  “Now, Mercy nothing,” she snapped and squeezed his hand tight enough to make him wince. “I love you, you big oaf, but I’m not gonna wait forever. I want to have me some babies before I get too old to rock ‘em myself. And if you ain’t interested, you tell me now and I’ll look elsewhere.”

  Tall just blinked at her, stunned.

  “Some lawman you are,” she muttered. “You didn’t guess my feelings?”

  He shook his head, but smiled.

  “Well,” she snapped, letting go of his hand, “now you know. So, do you tell me what’s going on or do I get up and leave you on your lonesome for good?”

  When he didn’t say anything right away, she shoved back from the table, but he grabbed at her hand and held on as tightly as she had before.

  “Don’t go, Mercy.”

  “Why not?” she asked, and held her breath, hoping he’d say the right thing for once.

  “Because I do trust you,” he said softly, looking up at her with those big ol’ eyes of his. “And I need your help.”

  “Is that the only reason?” she prodded.

  He swallowed hard and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down once or twice. “No, ma’am,” he said finally, “it ain’t.” He smoothed the pad of his thumb gently across her skin before admitting, “There’s a few things I’d like to say to you too.” Then he took a deep breath and added, “But before we talk about havin’ them babies, we got somethin’ else to figure out first.”

  Mercy looked into his eyes and, in their depths, finally saw what she’d waited two long years to see. Inhaling sharply, she let the air slide out of her lungs again as she sat back down. Smiling now, she said, “Then let’s get busy, I ain’t getting any younger.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and gave her another squeeze as he started talking.

  ●

  “He’s here,” Sophie whispered late the next afternoon as the train whistle sounded out long and lonely in the still air.

  “He?” Ridge asked, following her gaze down Main Street toward the train depot beyond.

  “Charles,” she said and backed up a step.

  Ridge caught hold of her and stepped into her line of vision.

  She shook her head and looked up at him. “Let me go, Ridge. I can get Jenna and—”

  “And what?” he demanded through gritted teeth. Panic reared up inside him and he had to fight t
o draw a breath. He wouldn’t lose her. Not to Charles and not to her own desperation. His hands came down hard on her shoulders. Yanking her close against him, he forced her head back and when their gazes locked he asked again, “What can you do? Sneak onto the train when he isn’t lookin’? Run somewhere new? With him just a step or two behind you?”

  “We’ve been through this,” she reminded him stiffly, and shot a quick look at the street, making sure no one could overhear them.

  “Yeah and we decided we wouldn’t run.”

  “You decided.”

  “Damn it, Sophie—”

  “No,” she said and jerked free of his hold. Backing up another step and then another, she kept her gaze locked with his and muttered thickly, “You don’t understand. He’ll take her. He’ll take Jenna and I won’t be able to stop him.”

  “No he won’t,” Ridge swore, to her and to everything he held holy. “I won’t let him.” He wasn’t sure how he’d stop him yet, but surely something would come to him.

  “There’s nothing you can do. He has the law on his side,” she reminded him, taking another step to keep him at arm’s length. “And he’ll expect to have you on his side as well. I won’t let him have her. I can’t.”

  “And I can’t lose you,” he murmured fiercely. “Or Jenna.” Closing the gap between them quickly, he grabbed hold of her and pulled her close to him. “Trust me, Sophie.”

  “I do trust you,” she said, her gaze moving over his face like a caress. “But—”

  “No buts,” he warned her, then turned her around. Giving her a little push, he said, “Go to Hattie’s. Wait there for me.”

  She looked back at him over her shoulder and Ridge saw the fear and pain in her eyes. Helplessness rode him hard, and as he headed for his office, he was almost looking forward to meeting Charles Vinson. He needed a target for the fury raging inside him.

  ●

  Charles left the train station behind and walked into the heart of Tanglewood, Nevada. His upper lip curled at a rising swirl of dust as a horse and wagon trundled past without a care for the pedestrians it passed. Impatiently waving one hand in front of his face, he reminded himself that the privation and discomfort of his trip West would all be worth it soon. All he had to do was find the sheriff who’d sent him the wire.

  He supposed he had taken a chance in coming all the way out here without first making sure that Sophie was still in the vicinity. But he hadn’t wanted to risk her running off again. And surely she would have heard if he had made inquiries.

  His gaze took in the miserable little town and he wondered idly why in heaven anyone would choose to live their lives in such squalor. Hard to believe that such outposts still existed, he thought. Back East, people tended to think of the frontier as nothing more than a setting for dime novels. And frankly, Charles preferred it that way. The sooner he collected Jenna and returned east, the better.

  When he spotted the grimy window with the word “Sheriff” painted on it, Charles smiled to himself and hurried his steps. He was so close to his goal now he could almost taste success.

  He stepped inside and immediately crossed the room to where a lone man sat behind a cluttered desk. “Sheriff Hawkins?” he asked, in his most officious tone.

  The man lifted his head to look at him and Charles stared into a cool pair of blue eyes. For one brief moment, he reconsidered his opinion of this backwater town. The sheriff looked to be a shrewd, hard man. But then, Charles thought, so was he.

  “That’s right,” the man said and leaned back in his chair.

  “I’m Charles Vinson,” he countered, lifting his chin and idly brushing at the dust marring his well-tailored black coat. No harm in showing the lawman that he was now dealing with a man of means. “You sent me a wire? About Sophie Dolan and a missing child?”

  Ridge forced a slow smile despite the cold, hard knot in his gut. Even if Sophie hadn’t told him all about this fella, Ridge would’ve taken an instant dislike to him. He had small eyes and soft hands. And to Ridge’s way of thinking, that meant he saw too little and worked not enough. The man stood as if he expected mud to be flung on him any minute and damned if he didn’t sniff as if the very air offended him.

  “Jenna’s not missing,” Ridge told him, taking pleasure in it. “She’s right here.”

  “Excellent,” Charles said and rubbed his palms together in anticipation. “I’ve come a long way to collect her, so if you wouldn’t mind fetching her from wherever she is—”

  “I don’t think so,” Ridge said, and stood up, preferring to face his enemy eye to eye.

  “I beg your pardon?” Charles went perfectly still, and it was clear he wasn’t a man to take being bested lightly.

  “I said, Jenna’s not going anywhere with you until the circuit judge comes to town.”

  “That’s outrageous.”

  “Maybe,” Ridge mused, running with the idea that had just sprung into his mind. “But that’s the way it’ll be.”

  “I am the child’s legal guardian,” Charles said and reached into his inside pocket to pull out a sheaf of papers. “Read this.”

  He ignored the papers being waved under his nose. “The judge can do that.”

  “Now listen to me, Sheriff.”

  “No, sir, I don’t have to do that,” Ridge said and enjoyed the look of pure apoplexy on the other man’s face. “What I can do is contact the judge and see how soon he can get here.”

  Charles stared at him for a long moment, and Ridge could almost see the steam lifting off the top of the man’s head. He looked fit to bust. Apparently, people didn’t buck him real often. Well, Ridge was proud to be one of the few.

  “Fine,” he muttered, tucking his papers back into his coat “But while you do that, I’d like to see my ward.”

  “Nope.”

  “What?”

  “See, I only have your word for what you’re sayin’,” Ridge said, and folded his arms across his chest. Bracing both feet wide apart, he gave the other man a long look and added, “I’m not about to tell you where to find one of our citizens without talkin’ to her first”

  “This is outrageous.”

  “So you said.”

  High spots of color flagged Charles’s cheeks and he struggled to hold on to a temper that was clearly on the rise. Good, Ridge thought. A man who lost his temper wasn’t thinking clearly. And right about now, he needed every advantage.

  “You know,” Ridge suggested, “you look like you could use a drink. Why don’t you go on down to the saloon and I’ll come get you as soon as I know something?”

  He wanted to argue. But there was just nothing he could do about it. And Ridge had to give him marks for knowing when to back down.

  “All right, I’ll do that, Sheriff.”

  “Good,” he said, smiling and nodding encouragement.

  As Charles left, he stopped in the doorway and said, “I’ll be expecting you shortly.”

  Ridge waited until the man had gone past the front window and his footsteps had faded into the distance before turning and walking through the jail to the back door. There, he stepped outside, and sprinted for Hattie’s.

  ●

  “Are you out of your mind?” Sophie demanded.

  “You’re not the first to suggest it,” Ridge said.

  She stuck her right arm through the iron bars of her cell, made a wild grab for him and missed.

  “Now, Red...”

  “Don’t call me that! I can’t believe you did this to me!” She grabbed hold of the iron bars and gave them a shake. They rattled, but held. Then, kicking them, she whirled around and marched to the opposite side of her cell. Pacing back and forth in its narrow confines, she kept up a muttered stream of conversation, giving in to the rush of emotion charging through her. “I’m in a cell. Behind bars. Pacing. I can’t believe you did this to me. After...
after... what we did.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she turned her back on him.

  “I trusted you,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. She never should have. She’d known better. He was a sheriff, for pity’s sake. Hadn’t everyone in town told her how stem Ridge was about the law? About how he treated the sheriff’s office like his own private church? About how his badge was his Bible? She should have listened. Should have known that a man so devoted to the law wouldn’t be able to bend it. Even for love.

  And sure enough, Charles had only been in town fifteen minutes when Ridge had rushed down to Hattie’s, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her back to the jailhouse where he’d promptly locked her into a cage.

  A cage. Her gaze shifted to the twilight sky just beyond her tiny window. The first stars twinkled in a lavender haze. This was how she’d see the world from now on, she thought, cringing at the thought of years in prison. How would she stand it? How would she live with the memory of Ridge betraying her? How would she live with the pain of not watching Jenna grow up?

  “Sophie, damn it,” he said and grabbed one of the bars. “If you’d just listen to me for a minute—”

  “Listening to you is what put me in this... trap!” She whirled around again to sneer at him. “Did Charles pay you the reward he promised? How much was it again? Five hundred dollars?” One red eyebrow lifted. “Betrayal certainly pays better than thirty pieces of silver these days, doesn’t it?”

  “All right, by damn,” he muttered thickly, “that’s enough.”

  Reaching for the key, he jammed it into the lock, turned it and swung the door wide. She made a break for it instantly of course, but he caught her and held her tight despite her kicking feet and the fact that she landed a good kick to his kneecap.

  “Ow! Cut it out, Sophie!”

  “I will not,” she vowed, throwing her hair back behind her head and giving him a glare that should have roasted him on the spot. “I will fight you with my very last breath.” Pushing against his chest with all her strength, she said, “I curse you, Ridge Hawkins, and all of your descendants if you should have any! I hope you don’t have a moment’s peace the rest of your life for what you’re doing tonight.”