Sarah lifted her face to him, inviting his kiss with a smile. He responded, just as she’d known he would, bending to her again, his mouth moving against hers with the passion of a man totally besotted with his wife. Sarah basked in the warmth of his approval and answered his desire with a heated acceptance of his kiss, her mouth opening to him, tilting her head, the better to fit their lips together.
Brace inhaled sharply then and lifted his mouth from hers, his cheeks stained with crimson, his nostrils flaring, his mouth damp from the kiss he’d begun so casually. “Where’s Stephen?” he asked after a few minutes. “Is he home alone?”
“No,” Sarah said. “My father rode in and picked him up an hour or so ago. He’s going to spend the day there. They took Bear along, and Daddy is planning on helping Stephen with the dog’s training. He’s really quite good at it, you know.”
“Does that mean the house is empty?” Brace asked hopefully.
Sarah assumed a pose of innocence. “It probably is,” she said. “I thought I could get things done more readily if I had the place to myself for the morning.”
“I believe I’ll come home for dinner right now,” Brace told her. “I’ll take this mail along,” he said, scooping up the small pile of envelopes and circulars from his desk. “I can look at it while you put together something for us to eat, and then we’ll have to rest a while. You can’t be rousting around all day without taking it easy for an hour or so.”
“Rest a while?” she asked. “You mean, like in bed?”
His grin was wide. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
“Alone?” she asked, her desire for him imbuing the single word with invitation.
“Not on your life, baby,” he said softly. “Not on your life.”
“All three of them are back in town,” Brace said quietly the next evening, aware that Stephen was just down the hallway in the parlor with his grandparents. “They’re at the hotel.”
“What does that mean to us?” Sarah asked, aware that Brace would not have brought up the subject without good cause.
“He’s entitled to have one more supervised visit with Stephen at the jailhouse, Sarah. And he’s asked for it to be day after tomorrow.”
“Are you worried about it?” she asked.
“Not worried, exactly, but concerned. He acts like he has something up his sleeve, and I haven’t any idea what it might be.”
“Would he try to take Stephen away from you?” she asked.
“I don’t think he’ll try that. And we know that Stephen would never go willingly.”
“Have you told Stephen yet?”
“No, I thought I’d better let him know in the morning. If I tell him tonight, he’ll worry about it, all by himself in the dark. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Aunt Sarah?” Stephen’s voice called from the front of the house, and Sarah stepped across the kitchen doorsill.
“I’m here,” she said, and was not surprised to see him standing in the parlor archway, a book held against his chest. “I’ll be finished up in the kitchen shortly.”
“Well, are we gonna read?” In an aggrieved voice he uttered his complaint, and Sarah laughed at his frown. “Grandpa and Grandma are getting impatient at waiting so long.”
“I know very well who’s getting impatient,” she said sternly, but her grin gave her away. “We’re going to read,” she assured him. “Just as soon as I finish hanging out my dish towel and sweeping the kitchen.”
“I don’t know why you have to always sweep,” he said dolefully. “I think the kitchen floor looks pretty clean already.”
“That’s because I swept it last night,” she told him. “I like it to be clean all the time.”
“Sweeping is a fact of life when you’re a woman,” Colleen said from the parlor, and Stephen turned to listen. “You’d might as well let your aunt do her chores, Stephen. The quicker she gets done, the sooner she’ll read to all of us.”
“Well, it sure seems like a waste of time to me, sweeping all the time,” he said. “Then you can’t even tell when you scrub it. It just always looks nice.”
“Well, thank you, Stephen,” Sarah said, earning a look of surprise from him. Her smile widened and she shot a look of conspiracy toward her mother, silent thanks for the support she’d given. “I’m glad you approve of my housekeeping.”
Stephen walked toward her, pausing just a foot away, and then his arms circled her waist and he hugged her tightly. “I approve of everything you do, Aunt Sarah. You’re just about the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Me, too, son,” Brace said from the depths of the kitchen. “I’d say she’s just about perfect. Don’t you think so?”
Sarah turned her head and glared in his direction. “We’ve talked about this before,” she said grimly, aggravated at Brace’s words. “I’m far from perfect.”
“Well, we’ve never gotten Stephen’s opinion on the matter,” Brace said with a grin. “What do you think?” he asked the boy.
“Aunt Sarah’s just the best there is,” Stephen said stoutly. “And I guess that’s as close to perfect as you can get.”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on that,” Brace told him, reaching the boy’s side with two long strides. “Now, find yourself a place to sit and get the footstool for your grandmother. As soon as Sarah’s done, she’ll be joining us. ’Cause I’m telling you, boy, there’s no way she’s not gonna sweep the kitchen floor first.”
The two of them went back into the parlor, leaving Sarah behind, and she simply shook her head and turned to complete her chores before the evening of reading should begin.
Chapter Thirteen
Brace found that dealing with a young man who was digging in his heels was almost more than he wanted to handle. Leaving school, Stephen had questioned the wisdom of heading back to the jailhouse to meet with Lester.
“We don’t have much of a choice,” Brace told him. “I know this isn’t what you want to do, but we have to obey the law.”
“I thought you were the law,” the boy answered angrily.
“I represent the law in this town,” Brace said, correcting him even as he sympathized with Stephen’s problem. “But Lester is your legal father and as such, he has certain rights where you’re concerned. Number one is his right to visit you under certain conditions.”
“What if I don’t want to see him?”
Brace shook his head resignedly. “That doesn’t make a whole lot of difference,” he said quietly. “It’s called upholding the letter of the law, and it’s what I promised to do the day they pinned this badge on my chest, Stephen.”
The boy’s feet dragged as they neared the jailhouse. “Just remember I didn’t want to do this,” he muttered as Brace opened the door and they stepped inside the office. From across the room Jamie lifted a hand in welcome and Stephen grinned in his direction, then allowed a frown to take residence on his face as Lester spoke up.
“About time you got here. You know I only get a short visit, Sheriff. Seems like you could have hustled the boy along.”
“You’re lucky to be allowed to see him at all,” Brace said sternly. “Just take what you can get and like it, Clark.” He turned aside and undid the buckle of his belt and holster. Then, changing his mind, he put the weapon back in place.
“Think you’ll need that?” Lester asked with a sneer. “You think I’m gonna run off with the boy.”
“Not while I’m wearing the gun,” Brace told him. “Even a man like you wouldn’t be so stupid.”
“We’ll see who’s stupid when this whole thing is over,” Lester said.
“Sit down and visit with Stephen,” Brace told him. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to spend with him.”
“Fifteen minutes? Is that all a father’s rights are worth in this godforsaken town?” Lester blustered loudly as he approached the extra chair near the desk. Settling down on the hard wooden surface, he beckoned to Stephen. “Come on over here, boy, and talk to your pa.”
Stephen walked unwillingly p
ast his father to where Brace’s own chair sat in solitary splendor behind the desk. “I’ll sit here,” he said with an inquiring look in Brace’s direction. Receiving a nod of permission in return, he lowered himself into the leather depths and turned the comfortable chair on its castors to face Lester.
“How’s school going for you?” the man asked, his voice cajoling, his manner causing Brace’s stomach to churn. Barely able to tolerate the presence of such a creature, he walked to the window, looking out upon the street, not hearing Stephen’s brief reply.
From the saloon just across from the jail gunshots broke the small-town silence and three men ran for cover behind posts before the general store. At the next volley of shots, the three of them plunged headlong through the wide doors and sought sanctuary there. The bartender plowed through the swinging doors of the saloon, leaving them opening and closing in a strange dance of their own.
A man stood in the doorway, taking aim and finally firing his pistol at the fleeing bartender. His shot went wild, breaking a window in the hardware store, the next building over from the jail. Brace headed for the door of his office and stepped out onto the porch. The gunman in the saloon retreated, apparently thinking better of his actions, perhaps deciding not to take on the lawman. He turned aside, but not before Brace had caught a good look at him.
“Looks like one of your kinfolk is makin’ a ruckus out here,” he said over his shoulder to the man who watched in silence. A smile of anticipation lit Lester’s face as he noted Brace’s moment of hesitation.
“Jamie, keep an eye on things,” Brace said. “I’ll be back as soon as I find out what’s going on over there.”
Jamie muttered agreement and drew his own gun, aiming it directly at Lester. With that, Brace ran across the street to the saloon, bending low as he watched for the gunman to reappear. The saloon doors were still swinging a bit when he got there, and the bartender was hot on his heels.
“Those men came in here the back way,” he said, puffing out the words between deep breaths. “They each ordered a drink, then made a play for LuEllen. She told them off in no uncertain terms, and I backed her up. My girls don’t have to take up with anyone they don’t want to,” he explained. “So one of them drew his gun and shot out the side window, then started on the front ones. LuEllen was long gone up the stairs, and I decided it was smart to head out the door.”
Brace listened impatiently to the barkeep’s words, knowing he must hear the story before he could set off in pursuit. “Where is the second man?” he asked.
“Don’t know,” the barkeep answered. “Probably went out the back, same way he got in.”
“I’m wasting time here,” Brace said, and then was alerted by shouts from across the street. Jamie staggered from the jailhouse door, waving his hand in the air, his gun nowhere to be seen.
Brace hightailed it to where his deputy stood. Jamie was obviously still shaken by a blow dealt to him, his head bleeding, his eyes glassy and dilated.
“Some guy came in from the back alley and got the drop on me,” he explained. “Held a gun on Stephen,” he said haltingly, “and I didn’t dare fire. I was scared for the boy. Then another fella, the other one who looks most like Lester, came running in the back way and caught me broadside with his pistol butt. Hit me over the head.”
“Where are they?” Brace asked, his words staccato as he scanned the street for any moving figures.
“I don’t know,” Jamie said. “They’re all gone, Lester with them. And they got Stephen, Brace.”
“We’ll get some men and go after them,” Brace said. “My horse is out back, but you’ll need to get yours from the livery stable. I’ll see if Bart Simms and Amos Montgomery can ride along.”
Jamie headed for the livery stable, his gait still unstable. Brace went through the jailhouse to get his black gelding and found only an empty hitching rail. He sent a piercing whistle into the air and waited, hoping that his mount would respond.
It was just a moment before the horse appeared, dragging his reins, his mane and tail flying as he rounded the corner into the alley, then came to a stop before his owner.
“Good boy,” Brace said.
Mounting and reaching for the reins, Brace rode in a half circle around the building and reached the street. Approaching from the west was a buggy driven by Nicholas Garvey, with Lin and the children by his side. Brace flagged him down, reining his horse to a halt beside the conveyance.
Nicholas was frowning, and brought his mare to a quick stop. “I just saw three fellas racin’ out of town,” he said. “Sure were in an awful hurry and they had your boy. You got problems? What’s going on?”
“Lester and his crew made off with Stephen. Left Jamie pretty battered, but he’s gone to get his horse from the livery.”
“Need some help?” Nicholas asked, with no hesitation. Lin offered a look of commiseration, but did not halt Nicholas in his endeavor. “I’ll pick up a mount at the livery and be right with you. Lin can take the buggy out to your place and wait for me there.”
His wife nodded her agreement, and without waiting for Brace to answer one way or the other, Nicholas turned the buggy in the road and headed back to Amos Montgomery’s livery stable. Once there, he leaped from the high seat and reached to grip Lin’s hand.
“Get to Brace’s place right now,” he said roughly. “Don’t linger in town. Make sure Sarah is all right and lock that house securely.”
She listened and nodded, apparently willing to do as Nicholas asked.
“There are two shotguns in the parlor closet,” Brace said. “The ammunition is in my desk drawer in the library. Sarah doesn’t know much about shooting, but I’ll warrant she can point one of those guns and look confident doing it.”
“I’ll bet she can,” Lin agreed. “And I can shoot as good as most men.”
“Better,” Nicholas growled. Stepping back from the buggy, he waved Lin into action, tossing a kiss to his daughter, Amanda, as the buggy set off.
Amos Montgomery brought out a gelding for Nicholas, a gray horse with sturdy haunches and sleek lines. “This fella can catch most anything on four feet,” Amos said. “I’d ride him myself, but I think the sheriff needs you to keep up with him. Jamie just flew out of here, and I’ll be along right shortly. You got any idea where we’re heading?”
“We’ll aim for the edge of town,” Brace said. “I need to be sure my wife is safe, and then we’ll go on from there.”
“Is the boy all right?” Amos asked, his brow furrowing as he recalled the cowering child he’d met just once.
“Seems to be,” Brace said. “They took him up on one of their horses, apparently, so it’ll hamper their speed a little.”
With a wave at Nicholas, who was drawing the cinch tight beneath the gray’s belly, he set off toward his house, knowing that Nicholas would follow inside a few minutes. All was quiet as he approached, the silence almost ominous, he decided. Riding around the back, he discovered Nicholas’s buggy beneath the trees, the horse tied to a ring driven into the trunk for just that purpose. Leaving his gelding there, he hurried to the back door, catching Lin as she stumbled over the threshold.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Did you find the shotguns?”
“I was too late,” she sobbed, Amanda hanging on to her skirt, her son clutched in her arms. “Sarah’s folks just got in the house. They were out back working on the pasture fence and missed the whole thing, apparently.”
“What do you mean? Too late for what?” Brace asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“She’s gone. The dining-room window is broken, and I found a note on the floor, beside a big rock. Those men must have come here right off, Brace. They’ve got her.”
As though a knife had stabbed him to his depths, Brace felt a pain in his chest that defied description. Sarah was gone, and apparently in Lester’s hands. That they’d managed to accomplish the deed so rapidly told him much planning had gone into this operation. While he’d been sitting around enjoy
ing his time as a family man, getting acquainted with his new in-laws, three men had plotted to take his wife and son from him.
“What does the note say?” he asked Lin. “Do you have it?”
She shook her head. “I must have dropped it after I read it. I can’t remember. I was so upset at the thought of Sarah being taken prisoner, I just headed for the back door. I had some crazy idea of following them, I think.”
“Show me,” Brace said shortly, and Lin turned on her heel and led him to the dining room. Broken glass lay on the floor, and the large rock she’d spoken of gave mute testimony to the efforts of the Clark brothers. A crumpled piece of paper caught his eye, and he left Lin’s side to retrieve it from the floor.
It was short and to the point. Lester and his brothers would give up Stephen into Sarah’s care if she brought the sum of five thousand dollars to the edge of the woods that began on the west side of town. That bit of forest was thick, consisting of about fifty acres of wooded property, and was filled with all sorts of wild-life.
Brace was familiar with it, but whether Sarah knew much about it was unlikely. The depths of the wooded area held several squatters’ shacks, all of them empty, but some of them still habitable.
One in particular held memories for Brace, for it was there that a dear friend, Faith Hudson, had lived for over two years, separated from her husband, alone in the world, fending for herself, until the generous friendship of Nicholas and Lin had given her a home and released her from the poverty that had dragged her into a drab existence.
Faith had moved then into the farmhouse next to Nicholas and Lin, a piece of property they owned, and had lived there for quite some time before going back to Boston, where her ties had drawn her…and where she’d found renewed happiness.
The thought of the squatters’ shacks that might hold Lester’s prisoners made Brace shudder. Even Faith’s shack had been neglected for so long, it was no more than a shelter for wild animals.
The sound of his horse trumpeting a call caught his attention, and Brace stuffed the note into his pocket. “Does Sarah have that kind of money?” Lin asked dolefully.
Texas Lawman Page 19
