Another Chance

by Michelle Beattie

  Suddenly a hand grabbed her reins and before she knew it, her horse was scrambling to a stop and others were yanked sideways to avoid a collision.

  "Where the devil do you think you're going?" Shane's eyes were darker than the smoke that marred the otherwise blue sky.

  "I'm going to save my livelihood, same as those men!" she said, though not a soul could be seen through the curtain of dust.

  "We can do that! You need to get back to the ranch."

  She may not have been standing on ground, but she dug in her heels anyway. "Unless you're planning on taking me back, I'm going. And judging from that smoke, we don't have time to waste."

  His nostrils flared. His jaw clenched so hard he could have cracked teeth.

  "I can take care of myself. Now let go! I'm not losing my saloon!"

  "Fine," he answered grudgingly, "but don't do anything stupid."

  Other than falling in love with you? she thought as she gripped her reins and charged forward.

  ***

  Jillian's heart broke for Eileen. What should have been one of the happiest days of her life and instead she was sitting at her own wedding reception, without her groom, staring out at the cloud of smoke that, if anything, was growing.

  "Are you sure I can't get you anything?" Jillian asked.

  Eileen shook her head, never taking her eyes off the horizon.

  "I can't lose him, I can't lose another one," she whispered.

  Letty shifted her chair closer, put a reassuring arm around Eileen. "You won't. He's loved you since he came to work for Samuel. He waited twenty years to marry you. Come Hell or high water, he'll come back to you." She handed Eileen a handkerchief, but all she did was twist it in her hands.

  The waiting was going to be torture. Out of respect, and likely out of fear as well, conversations were kept quiet. The food remained covered, but coffee was being made in the kitchen. Other than Jillian and Letty, most left Eileen to her worrying.

  Reverend Donnelly suddenly spoke from the porch. "I think this would be an appropriate time for prayer."

  He led them in worship, and while Jillian believed in God, she found it difficult to concentrate. Her mind was in town and what was happening there. When the reverend was finished, he came to Eileen to offer words of comfort.

  Allowing them their privacy, Jillian decided to see if she could be of help in the kitchen.

  Before she could reach the porch a piercing scream rent the air. A hard jolt of fear slammed down Jillian's throat. She grabbed her skirts and along with everyone else, raced toward the sound, which had come from behind the house.

  Rounding the corner Jillian gasped. Her knees shuddered. Oh, dear Lord!

  Harvey Black held a pale and terrified Jacob around the throat with one hand. And a gun to his head with the other.

  "Jacob!" his mother whimpered.

  Everyone who'd come running stood in stunned silence, their faces as ashen as Jacob's.

  Jillian had no idea how Harvey had gotten onto the ranch without being seen. But with the madness as men had scrambled for their horses when they'd seen the smoke, she supposed it would have been easy enough to slip by. Especially when he wasn't expected.

  If Harvey was there it could only be for one reason. Jillian blew out a trembling breath and took a step.

  "No!" Annabelle reached for her.

  Jillian thrust her arm out to block Annabelle at the same time Mrs. Hollingsworth grabbed the back of her granddaughter's dress. The women's gaze's locked. Held.

  "Keep her safe," Jillian said.

  "With my life," Mrs. Hollingsworth added.

  Then, despite Annabelle's sobbing protests, Jillian stepped from the group. Standing alone scared the air from her lungs, but she couldn't let anything happen to Jacob.

  "I thought this would get your attention," Harvey sneered.

  "What do you want?"

  "What I want is for you to remember your place," he said as his vicious stare raked over every woman there. "For all of you women to remember your place in life. It's to get married and birth babies. To obey your man and to take care of his home, the home he works to provide. It's not to be gallivanting around doin' things that ain't your business." His eyes narrowed. "And it sure as hell isn't making noise about your right to vote!"

  Jillian had no idea what he was talking about. She'd heard, of course, about the right to vote movement that was happening across some of the states and territories, but it wasn't in Cedar Springs.

  Yet none of that mattered. What mattered was getting Jacob safely back in his mother's arms.

  "Jacob, are you all right?"

  She could see the boy was struggling to control his fear.

  "I-I'm scared."

  "I know you are. Just stand still, all right?"

  "I'll give the orders around here!" Harvey yelled, causing everyone to flinch.

  "Don't hurt him," Mrs. Garvey pleaded.

  "Shut up!" Harvey bellowed.

  "It's me you're after. It's me you've been after from the beginning. Let him go."

  Harvey pointed his revolver at Jillian's heart. "I'm about done with your orders." He cocked the hammer.

  Jillian froze. Sweat ran cold down her back. She didn't know what to do but she had to try, couldn't let anything happen to the little boy who'd defied his father because of his love for a dog. Knowing Harvey hated strong women, she lowered her gaze, raised her hands in surrender.

  "I'm sorry. You're right. You have the power here. What would you like me do?"

  "That's better," he said.

  Though she couldn't see him, his voice, at least, sounded less volatile. But he didn't move, nor did he say anything. What if he didn't let Jacob go? She counted the passing of time by the thumps of her heart and wished fervently that the reverend had a few more prayers in him.

  "Come here."

  Jillian raised her head. As she'd assumed, he was looking straight at her. She took a breath and forced her frozen limbs to move.

  "Jillian, no!" It could have been either Eileen or Letty who said it, Jillian couldn't hear for the rush of blood pounding in her ears.

  The moment she stepped before him Harvey grabbed her, shoving Jacob aside. Though she'd expected it, the cold barrel of the gun against her temple made her shudder.

  He backed them toward the front of the yard. Sure enough, next to the bunkhouses she saw a tethered horse. So he had come in during the hullabaloo. Which meant he'd known the men weren't going to be there. He'd set the fire.

  She felt the stares, heard the whimpers and the whispers, but she couldn't look up. Couldn't see Letty and Eileen, who'd both become such good friends. Couldn't bear to see Annabelle's little face. Not if she hoped to keep her head.

  The men were all in town, and she doubted the Reverend would come after her, since he was a man sworn to God, not to violence. Which meant Jillian was on her own. If she hoped to get out of this alive, she had nobody to rely on but herself.

  TWENTY-THREE

  They were making so much dust it felt as though his eyes were being rubbed with sandpaper. Despite that, Shane smelled smoke. They were almost there.

  Suddenly his reins were grabbed the same way he'd grabbed Silver's moments ago.

  "I'm heading back," Wade said, not wasting any time. "I have a bad feeling about this. Harvey disappears and now we have a fire that's drawing every man away? Seems handy."

  Shane agreed, but he looked ahead. Through the rumbling hooves and churning dust, Silver ploughed ahead. Dammit, he couldn't leave her.

  "Can you spare me?" Wade hollered over the noise of passing riders.

  "Do you have a weapon?"

  Wade jerked his thumb to the scabbard tied to his saddle.

  "Wade, I can't go with you. I need-"

  Wade slapped him on the back. "Go! I'll see you later."

  Before Shane could tell his friend to be careful, he was gone.

  ***

  Wade's heart was thudding faster than Whiskey's hooves, which was saying
something since the countryside was flying so fast beside him it was nothing but a blur. The animal was breathing hard, but he nonetheless gave Wade everything he asked. The wind whistled in Wade's ears. He was leaning so far over Whiskey's neck he was almost parallel to the ground.

  Please, let him be wrong. Let the fire be just a random thing, and not the trap he feared it was. If it was a trap that meant Black had been ready and Wade could be riding hell for leather toward God only knew what. He nearly choked thinking of those he loved being in danger. Or worse.

  Though Whiskey's hooves ate the ground, it felt like an eternity before Wade saw the ranch, saw the crowd outside. Were they all right? He couldn't tell; he was still too far away. They turned as he approached. He knew, holy hell he knew, something was terribly wrong when his ma burst from the crowd and ran to meet him.

  Whiskey's hooves skidded on the road as Wade reined him in. The animal's hide was lathered, its sides heaved.

  "What, Ma? What's wrong?"

  Her cheeks were streaked with tears. Her lips were white.

  "He's got her! He took her!"

  The leather cut into Wade's hands. "Who, Ma? Who does he have?"

  "Jillian." She pressed her hands over her heart. "Harvey Black took Jillian."

  Wade drew in a sharp breath. "How long ago?"

  "Five minutes. Not long. They went that way." She pointed in the direction they'd headed.

  "Where's Annabelle?"

  "Harvey had Jacob at first, but he let the boy go when Jillian offered herself instead. Annabelle's in the house with Jacob now."

  Wade knew a moment's relief for his daughter's safety. It was quickly followed by heart-stopping fear for Jillian. He couldn't lose her, not before he told her he'd been a fool. Before he told her he loved her.

  "Was Harvey alone?"

  "Yes." She wiped her cheeks, but horror lingered in her eyes. "Find her, Wade. She was so brave, she can't-she just can't-"

  He leaned down, touched his Ma's cheek. "She won't, Ma. I'll bring her back." He wheeled Whiskey around. "Sorry, boy, a little longer." And once again Wade was racing over the ground.

  ***

  Fear was a metallic taste in her mouth. Or perhaps that was blood, since she was biting her lip as she tried to think of a solution. Unarmed and jammed in the saddle in front of Harvey, she was in no position to jump off without risking getting her skull trampled. Even if she did manage to keep her head intact, she didn't doubt he'd simply shoot her.

  Which meant it wasn't escape she needed to concentrate on, it was getting his revolver. A difficult task as it was currently lodged in the small of her back. What she needed was to get them off the horse. Then maybe she'd have a chance.

  She turned her head, grimaced as his fetid breath fell over her face.

  "I'm not feeling well," she said. And the more he breathed on her, the truer her lie became. Between being jostled about, the fear of having a gun pointed at her and his terrible breath, her stomach was in knots.

  "I don't give a good goddamn how you're feeling," he rasped.

  "You want me to be sick all over you?" she asked. Then, for good measure, she made an act of swallowing back hard, pressed her hand to her mouth as though she'd vomit.

  He jerked on the reins, tossed her to the ground before the horse had even stopped. She landed hard on her hands and knees. She felt the burn of the scrapes but she had to keep to her ruse. Moaning, she clutched her belly, rocked back and forth. Soon his dusty boots were in her line of sight. She willed herself to be sick, tried envisioning all manner of disgusting things, but she was a doctor and, as such, had an iron stomach.

  "Well?" he said.

  She inhaled deeply, wiped her mouth, and met his gaze. "Now that I'm not being tossed about in the saddle, my stomach's settling. Maybe if we stopped for a few-"

  His hand came from nowhere, caught her across the cheek and snapped her head back. Even on her hands and knees she struggled not to fall.

  When the spots had cleared from Jillian's eyes and she met Harvey's, she saw that his were wild, mad. He leaned over her, fists curled.

  "You think you're smart? You think you can outwit me? Well, you can't! You're nothing! Nothing, do you hear me?"

  Terror filled Jillian until she shook with it. She was out of ideas. She wasn't physically strong enough to best him. He had the gun. Even if she could get to the shotgun he had tied to his saddle, she had no idea if it was even loaded.

  "I asked if you'd heard me?" he yelled, spit flying from his mouth.

  "Yes. I heard you."

  He nodded. "Get up. We need to keep going."

  She rose to her feet. "To where?"

  His smile was loathsome. "Where you'll never cause trouble again."

  If she was going to die, Jillian decided with a sudden determination, then she was going to die on her terms. Jillian took a step back.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you. You want to kill me for being a doctor? For taking on a man's role? Then you can do it here!"

  Chin high, shoulders back, knees trembling harder than the last leaf hanging in the fall, Jillian stood her ground.

  Harvey's lips peeled back. The devil himself looked at her from eyes colder than a rock in the dead of winter. He cocked the revolver, raised it.

  "Just remember as you're rotting in hell, that you brung this on yourself."

  "I know about your missing wife. It won't be me going to hell. It will be you, for murdering two women."

  "Bloody meddlin' sheriff," he grumbled. "Well neither he nor anyone else can prove nothin'."

  "Then you did kill your wife?"

  He laughed. "'Course I killed her. Women voting. Whoever heard of such nonsense? Just 'cause Wyoming and Utah did it, don't mean the rest have to follow. But she insisted. Was gathering a group of women in our town, making noise about women's suffrage."

  The madness gleamed in his eyes like a sharpened knife. "She needed to be stopped, just like you need to be stopped. All's I need is a place to bury you where you'll never be found." His gun didn't waver, but his eyes left her as he looked around.

  "Goddammit! How the hell did he catch up so fast?"

  His gaze swung round to Jillian but hers was on the rise of dust and the lone rider heading their way.

  Harvey reached for her, but Jillian was ready. She leapt back, turned to run.

  "No, you don't!" He grabbed her by the hair.

  Jillian screamed. Pain exploded from every hair on her scalp, bringing tears to her eyes. Quickly she blinked them back. The rider was gaining. All she had to do was buy time. Drawing back, she ploughed her elbow into Harvey's ribs.

  He grunted, but recovered quickly. Then, with the revolver still in his hand, backhanded her. She spun to avoid it, but the blow caught her on the temple. A blinding pain burst through her skull. She staggered, blinked furiously but her eyes had stopped working. She reached out for something to grab but met nothing but warm air. She felt darkness creeping in. Her knees were buckling.

  Dimly, as though through fog, she heard hooves. Was it the rider approaching or Harvey leaving? She thought she heard shots fire, but why did they sound so far away? She tried to focus, but it was impossible. Everything seemed too far out of reach. The more she tried to make sense of what was happening, the less it seemed to.

  She finally gave up trying.

  ***

  Wade had never aimed a weapon at another man. He never would have considered himself capable. But when Harvey hit Jillian, when her body swayed then collapsed from the blow Wade didn't hesitate. Guiding Whiskey with his thighs, Wade aimed his shotgun.

  Harvey, however, wasn't going without a fight. He shot; the bullet whistled past Wade's ear. He wouldn't get another chance. Wade adjusted his aim, fired. Harvey jerked, staggered. Wade found it only fitting that the man reached out for something, anything, only to find nothing. With blood gurgling from his mouth, he fell dead to the ground.

  Wade reined in his horse then, not wasting a moment looking at Harvey's w
orthless, lifeless body, raced for Jillian. She'd taken a hard blow to the head, and judging by the bruise darkening her cheek, Harvey had struck her more than once. Bastard.

  Wade knew nothing about doctoring or medicine but he remembered when he'd hit his head after falling from the rafters that Jillian had said head wounds bleed a lot. His fingers carefully skimmed where he'd seen Harvey hit her, but all he felt was the warmth of her scalp. No blood. Was that good or bad?

  He lifted her, cradled her in his lap. He took comfort from her even breathing which tickled the hair at his throat. But his heart had yet to beat normally. He'd thought, no, he'd feared, that he'd lost another woman he loved. Only this time, she'd die before he could tell her the words.

  He kissed her forehead. "I need you. Annabelle needs you." His heart felt as though it would burst with emotion. He rocked her back and forth. "Wake up, Jillian. I need to tell you."

  "Tell me what?"

  Her voice was sleepy but it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. Relief made him weak.

  Gently he set her on the grass. Her eyes seemed clear, her color was good. "Are you all right?"

  She brought her fingers to her temple. "I think your whole herd is stampeding right here. Otherwise I think I'll live." She tried to sit up, moaned and lay back down.

  "Easy. Take your time."

  "I thought I heard shots. Where's Harvey? Did he get away?"

  "No. And he won't be bothering you or any other woman again." He cupped her cheek. "I was so scared."

  Her smile was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "Me too. He killed his wife. Shane suspected so but Harvey admitted it. All because she wanted the right to vote. It's why he came after me, because I threatened what he believed, that women are lesser than men somehow."

  "He was wrong. Can you sit up?"

  He helped her, kept his arm around her back until he was sure she could sit on her own. Then he took her hand, laced her fingers with his.

  "I was a fool. I was willing to let you go because I thought Annabelle needed a mother who'd be home with her, who'd stay on the ranch and never leave her." He scoffed at his own naivety. "But what she really needs is someone to love her, to teach her compassion, to teach her to stand up for what she believes in. I want my daughter to feel safe and loved enough to be the woman she's destined to be, whatever that entails. I want her to be exactly like her mother and exactly like you.