by Nathan Jones
Pushing those glum thoughts aside to focus on the present, he led Junior over to join Bob, who was leading Buster towards the barn. “Anything happen while I was gone?”
The man didn't reply for a second, and Skyler had a feeling he was glowering at him in the dark. “Haven't seen a whisker of Randall and his bandits since we chased them off,” he finally answered. “Although Mr. Lopez went around to tear down the abandoned camp in the thicket. I said he could keep anything he managed to gather up as compensation for the risk he was taking, to deprive Randall's gang of it.”
Skyler decided not to point out that, as the one who'd had bullets flying past his head as he chased the bandits off, he should've been entitled to at least some of that. But to be honest he didn't really want any of it, and the homesteader did deserve some compensation for helping guard the ranch while he was gone.
Who knew, it might even convince the man to stick around to keep helping out.
“Find anything?” he asked instead.
Rather than answering, Bob motioned towards an approaching shadow who turned out to be Fernando. The man had obviously been listening to the conversation, because he snorted sourly in reply as he joined them. “Tents and packs full of camping gear and dirty clothes, mostly. Bandits must've kept anything valuable with their horses. Did find a few things that made the trip worth the while, at least.”
“Lobo was shooting at me with a .45,” Skyler said. “I had him kick it into the trees when I captured him. Don't suppose you found that?”
“No, but for a pistol I'll happily go back once there's more light for another look,” the homesteader said in a cheerful voice. He paused as if realizing something. “Oh, unless you were planning on keeping it? You took it off the guy, after all.”
“That depends.” He gave the man a significant look he wouldn't be able to see in the darkness. “You going to use it to help deal with the bandits?”
Fernando chuckled. “A bit too steep for that price, even for a good gun. All yours, amigo.”
“We'll talk that over later,” Bob said impatiently. His dark outline motioned, beckoning them on towards the barn where light peeked through cracks in the boards. “Show him what else you found, Mr. Lopez.”
Skyler led Junior into the barn after his friend and the gelding leaving caring for his horse until after he'd seen whatever had the two so excited. Fernando obligingly moved over to the lantern and pulled a folded paper out of his pocket, opening it up and offering it to him.
Skyler took the wrinkled sheet of paper, squinting at it in the dim light, and whistled quietly. It was a bounty notice that prominently displayed a fairly accurate sketch of Randall's big, nasty thug Franco:
WANTED
Brunswick Fort is offering one-twelfth ounce of gold or five ounces of silver for the capture or proof of death of this member of the gang of Simon Randall, going by the name of Francis Crisco or Franco, for participation in the massacre of a convoy among many other crimes.
A similar reward is offered for any of his associates, and double for their leader.
Massacre of a convoy.
A lot of bandits, scum that they were, routinely committed those sorts of atrocities. It was the easiest way, assuming they were completely lacking in humanity, to be sure their victims wouldn't go straight to the nearest sheriff and send a posse after them.
Still, even with everything Randall had done here, Skyler had half doubted the man was capable of such a thing. The knowledge that he was wrong left a sick feeling in his gut, and not just out of sympathy for the man's victims or out of worry for him and his friends if the bandits won.
There was a time he'd looked up to Simon Randall. Had desperately wanted his recognition and approval. Sure, he hadn't been blind to the fact that the man barely acknowledged his existence unless his mom or their friends were around to impress. But even so, as leader of a convoy leading them all to a new start in Texas, Randall had seemed larger than life.
Had he always been such a wretch, and he'd just hidden it better when he still had a reputation to maintain?
“Brunswick Fort is in Nebraska, right?” Skyler asked. From what he'd heard it was a settlement that had been built even before the end of the war, where determined refugees had tried to rebuild their lives while fending off Sangue. And succeeded by all reports; it was one of the few places the Northern League left their borders to trade with.
“Think so,” Bob said. “Maybe South Dakota?”
Skyler shook his head in disbelief as he took in Franco's ugly mug. “And Randall or one of his boys was stupid enough to carry around a wanted notice for his own gang? With a bounty like this I'm surprised they weren't knifing each other and dragging their corpses to the Fort.”
“Maybe it's a trophy,” Fernando suggested. “Bragging rights to his bandit friends.” He chuckled in dark amusement. “Or maybe whoever was holding onto this was planning to knife this Franco fellow, then take him in for the bounty.”
“Well, I hope this eases your conscience about shooting to kill against Randall's gang,” Skyler told Bob. “And no more blowing the element of surprise by trying to convince them to leave peacefully.” He shook his head grimly. “Massacre of a convoy . . . these SOBs have earned the noose ten times over.”
“I can't say you're wrong,” his friend agreed. “Just wish they hadn't found their way here.”
“Well they did.” He sighed, motioning to Junior. “Let me care for the horses, and I'll take over your sentry position so you can go check on your family.”
“Speaking of which, we'd better get back out there in case bandits are sneaking up on us,” Bob told Fernando.
The other man nodded and the two headed out into the night, leaving Skyler to get Junior and Buster unsaddled and rubbed down, then saddled again in case they all had to leave in a hurry. Then he put them in stalls with water and feed and headed out to get back to work guarding the ranch.
His hopes of Randall deciding to call it quits and leave were growing dimmer and dimmer as dawn approached.
Chapter Eleven
Long Day
Dawn found Skyler blearily staring at the eastern horizon, where the sun had yet to rise but had already painted the sky in a dazzling canvas of muted blues, purples, reds, and pinks.
The increasing light made it easier to verify that Randall and his bandits were nowhere in sight. It looked as if the man really did intend to wait until day to try anything, wary of another ambush from Skyler. Which was heartening, but that just meant an attack was still coming.
He wondered how the bandits would react to seeing their camp stripped of anything useful, and the rest trashed. It was somewhat satisfying to imagine their expressions, although whatever they attempted in their fury as a result probably wouldn't be.
As he was contemplating such grim thoughts, his ears perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps from behind him. They were too light to be anyone but a child or a small woman, so it had to be either Lisa or Vicky.
The latter, as it turned out; Skyler kept his gaze on the brilliant horizon as she stepped up beside him to watch the sunrise. “Morning, Aunt Vicky.”
“It is, isn't it?” she asked, shivering slightly and hugging herself. “We made it through the night.”
He couldn't help but laugh tiredly. “We did. It would feel like more of an achievement if I hadn't overheard Randall saying they were going to wait until daylight to try anything.”
She turned to look at him, dark eyes full of dread. He'd told her about that, but it must've slipped her mind in the moment. “So it's just beginning?”
Skyler felt a bit bad about squashing any optimism she might've been feeling. But it had to be said. “Afraid so.”
The petite woman cursed, a surprisingly salty stream of words for such a sweetheart. Then she rested a gentle hand on his arm. “In that case, you should try to get some sleep. We can keep watch, wake you up if there's trouble. If you want to insist on being cautious you can zonk out in one of the
defensive positions . . . I'll bring you out some blankets and pillows.”
It was a kind offer, and one he'd probably be smart to accept if he was planning to be on guard duty all day. But before he could reply Adalia emerged from the house, looked around, then moved over to join them. Her movements were halting, posture showing such weariness that even if he hadn't been able to see the exhaustion writ large on her delicate features, it would've been obvious she was barely still on her feet.
“I've done what I can for him for the moment,” she said, voice dull.
“How is he?” Skyler asked, feeling a bit bad that wasn't the first thing he'd asked Vicky.
“He made it through the night. We'll see how he does today.” The young woman let out a breath, shoulders slumping. “Or at least you will. I promised my father I wouldn't stay any longer than necessary at this place while bandits are threatening it, so I'm going home for now. I guess my cousin made some deal to stick around for a while, so Mr. Hendrickson said you'd escort me.”
Looked as if Uncle Bob had convinced Fernando to help out, which was a relief. “Of course,” Skyler said. He didn't want to leave Lisa and her parents and fiancé undefended, even for as long as it took to ride to the homestead and back, but with the sun just peeking over the horizon he judged there was still time before Randall did anything. Especially if they were going to visit their camp first; that ought to buy a while as they cursed up a storm.
On top of that, there was no way he was going to let Adalia go out alone. Just in case he was wrong and the bandits were lurking about.
The young woman turned away, movements curt with weariness. At least he hoped that's what it was. “He said I could borrow Jared's horse again,” she said. “Also, he wanted me to tell you to try to convince my family to send help while you're there.”
Skyler waved goodbye to Vicky and followed Adalia towards the barn to retrieve the horses, still saddled and waiting in the first stalls. “Do you think your dad will?” he asked quietly as they walked.
She snorted. “No. And if you're hoping I'll jump in on your side, remember I just spent most of the night trying to keep my friend's fiancé from bleeding out. I don't want to see my dad or uncles or cousins hurt like that, or even killed, as a reward for stepping into trouble that's not ours.”
He supposed he couldn't blame her for that, although if Bob wanted him to try to convince the Ruiz family to help then her opposition was definitely going to make his job more difficult. But no sense pressing the issue now, so he decided to switch tacks to what had been pressing on his mind all night. “Honestly, what do you think Jared's chances are?”
The young woman was slow to answer. “Not good, but not hopeless,” she finally said. “I've told Lisa what she can do to care for him until I can come back. If he lives through the next few days I'd say he has a good shot at making it.”
Skyler wasn't sure how to feel about that news, and was angry at himself that he might be feeling anything but hopeful that the man Lisa loved would make it through. What sort of friend was he?
They led the horses out of the barn and mounted up in silence, then started out. Adalia led the way, which was fine with Skyler because it meant he could position himself between her and any bandits approaching from their new hideout in the gully.
Assuming they didn't come from a different direction again.
After a minute or so of tense silence he cleared his throat and spoke just loud enough for her to hear. “Thank you for coming, Adalia. You put yourself at risk to help us, and that means a lot.”
“Us?” she replied. He couldn't read her tone. “Well, I couldn't turn down neighbors in their hour of need, Mr. Graham.”
So she was still calling him that? He winced in spite of himself. “We were on a first name basis yesterday.”
“Yesterday was yesterday, today is today.”
Skyler urged Junior forward to ride beside her. “Mind telling me what I did to make that happen?”
“You didn't do anything!” she snapped, tone suggesting he definitely had. “You're hardworking, brave, kind, and willing to risk your life to help those in need. And you're obviously loyal to your friends.” She paused, then continued almost too quietly to be heard. “You're not too hard on the eyes, either.”
He blinked. Where had that come from? “So, um, why are you mad at me?”
“Who says I am?” Adalia blew out a frustrated breath. “But I'm also not an idiot. I thought we were working up to something, that you might've felt something for me, but it vanished the moment you saw Lisa. Even when you found out she was engaged!”
She hunched her shoulders, tone shifting to something between anger and hurt. “So yeah, I get the feeling there's even odds you drop me off and never come back. Or at best, if you survive these bandits you'll return to finish plowing that field like you promised, but make it clear you can't wait to leave again without a single look back.”
Skyler wanted to protest that, but her words carried more truth than he wanted to admit. Finding Lisa had been his goal since her family left at the beginning of the Mountain War. It was why he'd resolved to explore the Northwest, why he'd put himself through all the hardship and discomfort of the last two years.
So yeah, maybe any other priority had vanished the moment he caught sight of his friend. Even if she was engaged, even if his main reason for finding her seemed to have been snatched out of reach forever, that didn't change how he felt.
The same feelings that had kept him from being able to have a happy life with Tabby, then made him leave her and any hope of that life with her behind.
Adalia read all she needed to in his uncomfortable silence as he searched for a response. She laughed bitterly, although there was far more pain in her eyes than she let show on her face. “That's what I thought. I'm not interested in fighting over a man, Mr. Graham. Especially not against the most eligible bachelorette in the valley, who also happens to be his childhood sweetheart.”
“Like you said, she's engaged!” Skyler protested. “There's no competing because she's not even on the market.”
The young woman shook her head sadly. “I'm not sure that matters.” She gave him a long look, expression softening slightly. “I don't blame you, Skyler. We don't get to choose what we want in our hearts, even if it's out of reach. You've been a good friend, and I'll always be grateful to you for sticking your neck out for me in town. Let's just keep it at that.”
She nudged Buster to a faster pace, leaving him to stew on their conversation as he kept an eye out for threats.
Yes, Skyler had been well aware from the moment he first set eyes on Adalia that she was a beautiful woman. He'd also found himself immediately liking her personality, fiery and independent but also openly affectionate with her loved ones and fiercely loyal.
He hadn't even allowed himself to consider her romantically while he was still looking for Lisa, but he'd been glad that a friendship seemed to be developing between them. And after he learned his friend was engaged, and considering that back at home Tabby had almost certainly moved on and found someone else, well . . .
In what little time he'd had to think of anything but Randall's gang and the danger they presented, part of him had wondered if it was jumping the gun to think that a future here in Lone Valley with this lovely, lively young woman he'd met might just be a possibility. If he'd already sabotaged more than one opportunity for happiness because he'd been too stubborn to even consider it, did he really want to keep making that same mistake for the rest of his life?
Spend the rest of his years alone and miserable, chasing a past that no longer existed and a future he couldn't have? At what point did he finally see reason and do what so many friends and loved ones had advised, and move on?
His hope for a future with Lisa had been his last obstacle to that, and unless he wanted to wreck what looked like a happy engagement, aside from Jared's mortal wound of course, it no longer was. Which left, possibly, the option of seeing if there really was some po
tential for something with Adalia.
Only it looked as if there wasn't; somehow, he'd managed to shoot down a relationship he hadn't even realized was forming. Which he supposed was about what he should've expected given his track record.
Well, maybe she'd come around if he spent more time with her. Proved to her he wasn't some sort of homewrecker who'd try to go after an engaged woman, and more importantly that he really was interested in her.
Maybe he could give it another try after this entire mess with Randall was over with. That is, assuming he survived.
The Ruiz homestead was already a beehive of activity when they arrived, people up and about doing chores. Although he couldn't help but notice that most were looking north when he and Adalia rode into view, obviously worried about what was happening at their neighbors' ranch. Which meant they were immediately spotted.
Mr. Ruiz and his brother-in-law, Fernando's dad, immediately strode out to meet them, the former carrying a pistol slung low on one hip and the latter a big hunting rifle across his back. Mr. Lopez must've quickly realized Skyler wasn't his son, because he called out worriedly to Adalia as they came in earshot. “Is everything all right?”
“Fine, uncle,” she called back. “Fernando just stayed back to help defend the ranch in exchange for one of the bandits' pistols and a bunch of their gear.”
The older man's face reddened. “He did what? Just how did my son turn mercenary?”
Adalia glanced at Skyler, obviously still reluctant to say anything that would help him convince her family to fight. So he was surprised with her reply. “It's not like the bandits couldn't be a threat to us, too. He wanted to band together with people already fighting them before they got to us.” She hesitated. “The loot was also an incentive, I'm sure.”
Mr. Ruiz cut in. “And what about the ranch hand? You going to have to stick your neck out going back up there to treat him further?”
“I hope so,” she replied, sliding awkwardly down from Buster's back; she wasn't much of a rider, which was no surprise considering she probably hadn't had many chances to learn. “Although he might not make it through the day.”
