A Perfect Dilemma

by Zoe Dawson

  Which was a first.

  Then the gray pieces of my memory began to coalesce, and I groaned. Ohmigod. I’d sung to Braxton, drunk and blubbering. Pathetic. I went there to lay out everything about Duel’s innocence and convince him we belonged together and everything got muddled. Then my memory wanted to shut down when I reached the point where he refused to give us a chance. He was such an idiot. But I wasn’t about to give up. The richness, the wholeness of my feelings for him nearly overwhelmed me.

  “River.”

  The voice came from somewhere on my right. I recognized it instantly. My brother Chase. A witness to my meltdown. I quickly calculated the odds of spontaneously disappearing without a trace, and figured they were pretty slim.

  “Are you okay under there?”

  “Yes,” I whispered into the sheets, then confessed. “No.” I didn’t have the strength to maintain a lie. I was completely wiped out, more tired now than I could have possibly been when I’d conked out. Ah, well, er passed out was more like it. My head was breaking. It was what had woken me up, and what was going to make getting back to sleep impossible: The Headache from Hell.

  “Does coffee sound good right about now?”

  Which was when I smelled the aroma and grunted.

  “Is that a yes grunt or a no grunt? Maybe we should get a couple of glasses of water into you, first, and some aspirin.”

  My brother Chase had always been very practical and sweet. Very, very sweet. The night was quickly coming back to me in bits and pieces, like a jumbled-up puzzle. I let them all cascade through my mind and fall into place, painting a rather tumultuous picture of the previous night, until one of those little memories leaped out and froze me solid where I lay under the sheet.

  I’d sung to Brax while standing on the bar.

  Ohmigod. A sudden, fierce blush burned across my cheeks.

  I heard Chase walk away, heard the sounds of him in a different room, probably the kitchen and, far too quickly, heard him return.

  “River?”

  Trying to stop the sudden rush of tears hurting my head, I wiped them away. God. Even touching my face hurt.

  Then I remembered Jack Douglas had hit me in the face. He’d started all this. I hope his head hurt worse than mine. “Hmm?” I answered quietly, politely. The small sound echoed under the pillow like I’d yelled down the Grand Canyon, and I winced, which about blew my head off.

  “Come on, River. Let’s get something into you.” He’d moved closer. I could tell by the sound of his voice. “I need to…talk to you about something important.”

  He wanted to talk to me. Ohmigod.

  Reluctantly, I pushed the pillow away. Moving carefully, I levered myself up on one elbow, letting the pillow slide off my head onto the bed. My hair was in my face and I carefully pushed it away and met my brother’s not only worried, but strained, expression. Very gingerly I rose to a sitting position. I was still in the clothes I had worn yesterday.

  “I called the house. Earl answered,” he said with distaste. “But I told him to let Momma and Daddy know where you were.”

  “Tell me you didn’t tell him about…”

  He handed me the coffee. “About you having a nervous breakdown, in public no less, and practically melting all over Braxton Outlaw? Uh, no, give me some credit,” he said.

  My blush made a really hot comeback.

  I groaned.

  “River,” he ran his hands through his hair. “I understand you’ve read all the Colonel’s journals. Earl told me. He said you are doing research and writing a speech to deliver at the Festival.”

  I was sipping the coffee, and slopped it onto my hands. “All true,” I said forlornly. “He’s a bastard.” If I could only find the last damn journal, it was my only hope.

  “I have the last journal.”

  I jerked, coffee sloshing over the rim of my cup. “You do? What does it say?”

  He got up, walked over to a cabinet, and rummaged inside. Pulling out a brown, leather-bound book I recognized, he walked back to me.

  “Read the last entry. Then we’ll talk.”

  I quickly flipped to the last words my ancestor wrote and jumped up, my eyes flying over his words. I could feel my grin spreading all over my face in spite of the hangover twinges.

  This was it! This was what I’d been searching for. I knew, even after everything that had happened to me, we, the Suttons, could weather this. It was time to do what Maizy told me to do. Take a risk. But it was also the right thing to do. The Outlaws deserved it.

  When my brother reappeared, I looked into his tortured eyes, and saw the same struggle I’d been dealing with. “This…this is why you disappeared. You found the journals.”

  “Yes,” he said, coming into the room, his eyes stark. “I didn’t know what to do. I was eighteen years old. The Outlaws were friends. True friends, and Daddy made us shun them. After I found out, I couldn’t make myself take over the business, sustain the lies. I didn’t want any part of our wealth or status. I simply wanted to disappear. I couldn’t tell, and I couldn’t live with it, so I ran away. I wasn’t strong enough then. I won’t judge you if you don’t want to be a part of it, but I can’t keep quiet anymore.”

  “Why, Chase?”

  “Because you love him, River, and he loves you. It’s now clear to me after what I saw last night between you. I know Brax. He’s a stubborn son of a bitch and he’s trying to protect you. Your happiness means more to me than anything. Braxton doesn’t deserve this. None of them do. They have endured countless, unspeakable acts against them. I can’t pretend any more. No more. It ends.”

  My happiness was important. I didn’t discount it, and I wanted Braxton with every cell. But the injustice hit me hardest. The secret had been kept all these long years so my family could flourish. It wasn’t such a terrible dilemma, after all. “I’ll do it.”

  “What?”

  “I already knew about this. I found several bits of information that, put together, implied it was the Colonel who committed the crime. I was just trying to find proof. Initially, I was going to tell Braxton. It’s not easy, Chase, putting this out there and it could destroy our family, but we’re strong enough to weather it. I know that. But it’s the right thing to do. I have the Founder’s Day speech. I’ll reveal it to the whole town then. Will you come with me?”

  “Yes, I will. I’ll stand beside you.”

  My eyes widened and I called out too late as Earl materialized behind my brother and hit him on the back of the head.

  Chase dropped like a stone.

  Then Earl pointed a gun at me and smiled, his cool, green eyes on mine, unblinking. “I told you not to mess with me, River.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Braxton

  “Why don’t you come in all the way? It’s Brax. Isn’t it? You Outlaw spawn all look the same to me. This is quite a fortuitous visit, as I am in need of your brawn right about now.” He inclined his head to his cousin lying across the threshold.

  I’d wondered about the half-open door. When I pushed it open, there was Earl Sutton, holding a gun, and Chase lying at his feet, his head bloodied.

  “Where is River?” I growled.

  “No need to go all protective just yet.” He motioned with the gun and River appeared in the doorway. She ran to me, and I enfolded her in my arms.

  “Brax,” she whispered, the terror in her voice making me crazy.

  “What do you want? What is this about?”

  “I’ve been looking for a particular book.”

  “A book?” I frowned, cutting a glance toward River.

  “Well, a journal. River was helping me “find” it.” At the blank look that was surely on my face, he said, waving the gun. “It’s a family spat I’m going to take care of personally. It’s actually kinda your fault, Brax. Too bad.”

  “My fault. How?”

  “Too much chit-chat and too much to do. Come over here and pick him up.” I weighed the odds, not liking them. Earl was going to kill u
s. I couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

  “Don’t,” he said, swinging the gun toward River.

  Everything in me tightened, ready to explode into action.

  “Now be a good little good-for-nothing and pick up Chase’s body,” he snarled.

  I walked over while he sidled away from Chase, keeping his gun on River. Bending down, I maneuvered Chase into a fireman’s carry.

  “Wow, you are strong. I can see why you were drooling all over him, River, honey,” Earl sneered. His attention returned to me. “What are you waiting for? Must I tell you everything? Out to the car.”

  He tucked a brown, leather-bound book in his coat pocket as I turned and stepped through the open front door and walked down the stairs. River walked beside me. “He’s alive,” I said.

  She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “River, pop the trunk.”

  “What? No. You can’t—”

  “Pop it or I’ll kill you where you stand.”

  “Do as he says.” I walked around the end of the vehicle and, as soon as the hood came up, did my best to settle Chase carefully into the open trunk.

  “Close the lid,” Earl instructed, and there was nothing I could do. Chase’s face was pale, but I was encouraged by his even breathing.

  “Outlaw, you drive. River, you can sit with him in the front seat.”

  As soon as we were settled, he got in behind me and set the muzzle at the base of my skull. “Let’s go. It’s a pretty day for a drive.”

  I put the car in gear. In moments we were driving out of Chase’s parking lot without having passed a car or a pedestrian who might have noticed. When we were well enough away from Chase’s, alone on the bayou road, River spat out, “You won’t get away with this,” she said fire and ice in her voice.

  “Of course I will. I’ve had practice.” I saw his smug smile in the rearview. “Turn here,” he said.

  “What is this about?” I asked.

  River looked at me. “I was right. Duel was innocent. It was the Colonel who murdered those men and stole the payroll. He built Suttontowne with the money. It’s obvious Chase kept the last journal hidden and Earl wanted it.”

  I gaped at her, unable to process what she’d said. “Are you saying you have proof?”

  She threw a glare at Earl. “He does. He has the Colonel’s last journal. The one from right before he died. I wanted to tell you, but I also wanted proof first.”

  “And this secret has been kept for over 150 years. We were made to take the blame…and Duel was innocent?”

  “Yes, and the town that reviled you was built on blood money.”

  “Ain’t that a kick in the pants? Huh, Outlaw? Too bad no one will ever know.” He prodded me with the gun. “Turn right here.”

  We turned off the bayou road and onto a narrow dirt track leading deeper into the swamp. Branches clawed at the sides of the car while it crept down the path, the growth was so thick. I crossed a small stream, slowing the car to a crawl, then drove onto what passed for solid ground in the bayou.

  The path ran along a bank. “Stop the car,” Earl said, “and get out. Don’t try anything, or I will kill you.”

  “You’re going to kill us anyway.”

  “Ah, Brax, you are much smarter than your daddy.”

  Everything in me froze, and I met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “What do you know about my daddy?”

  He smirked and gestured with the gun. “All in good time. Get Chase out of the trunk.”

  I pulled the trunk release and did as he instructed, picking Chase up. He groaned softly.

  “Chase,” River said, carefully running her hand over his injury.

  Earl grabbed her by the arm and shoved her. I wanted to break his goddamned face.

  “Move.”

  River glared at him, scrubbing at her arm.

  We came out of the brush into a clearing close to the water’s edge. I stepped on a twig and when it cracked, loud in the humid air, gators, tails swishing, jaws snapping, churned up the water.

  “Ah, my pets. Ready for some more…meat?”

  The water returned to a glassy stillness, but several reptilian heads popped to the surface. Big ol’ gators, easily the length of a car.

  “Why exactly are you doing this?”

  “River insists on destroying everything that’s due me.”

  “Due to you!” she hissed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, first I had to get rid of Chase. I knew how he would react once he learned what was in the Colonel’s last journal.”

  “It was you who helped him find the journals.”

  “Yeah, sure, and it was me who told your daddy both his golden offspring were hanging around the Outlaws. I couldn’t have our name sullied.”

  “You are such a hypocrite!”

  “That’s what my daddy was all worried about when he killed my momma. She cheated on him. Told him right to his face she was leaving. It was such a sunny day, the blood so bright on the floor. Reputation is everything and I lost everything. I want it all back.” His voice was so quiet and intense. His eyes flicked to River. “And you. You were supposed to be mine. Married to me, once I took care of your brothers. Once I’m done here in the swamp…or the gators are…there will only be Jake to deal with.”

  “No…oh, God.”

  He chuckled and removed his suit coat with the journal tucked inside the pocket, setting it over a branch, mopping at his brow with a handkerchief.

  The coolness of his words, the coldness in his eyes and demeanor, made it loud and clear he was going to kill us. “Where does my daddy fit in your grand scheme of taking over the Sutton’s wealth?” I asked, feeling sick.

  “Your daddy? He was so eager to prove to everyone he was an upstanding citizen. Such an easy mark.”

  My gut twisted, and the anticipation of what he was going to say next was excruciating. All these years I had thought…geezus. “What did you do to my daddy, you fucker!?”

  “I needed a fall guy.” River gasped and tears welled as she turned to look at me, rigid with shock and horror. Earl flicked a glance at her, then turned his attention back to me. “He was all primed with the bookkeeping certificate he’d just earned, ready to prove himself and provide for his very pretty wife and triplet sons.”

  Amusement skewed the sound of his voice, and he shot River a smug grin. “But then my embezzlement was discovered, by Braxton’s daddy, no less. Well, I had to take care of him. His bones are probably scattered all over here since the gators made a meal out of him. Don’t worry, Brax. Getting over a daddy’s death isn’t too bad. I did it.”

  Although I was shocked and repulsed at the lack of feeling in his voice, his words bulleted past that final locked door, and it slammed open, and everything poured out. The anger, the pain of being unwanted, the agony of not knowing, of being abandoned.

  Then the grief. It gripped me by the throat, stripped me down to nothing. It was like losing my daddy all over again, but ten times worse. To lose my daddy, when he’d been everything my ma said he was. To have believed he had been a thief and deserted us for most of my life, leaving us without support. The guilt and rage hurt so much, I thought I would blow apart. All of the anger I had done my best to keep at bay boiled out of me.

  With a roar of rage I lunged at Earl. He brought the gun up, but I knew he was already planning to kill all of us, and I wasn’t about to let him hurt River.

  The gun in his hand bucked once, a loud explosion in the quiet, beautiful stillness of the bayou. It caught me right in the ribs. The impact, a burning, searing, tearing pain, lanced through me like fire. Something cracked, but I hit him with all the force of my surging adrenaline, my heart hammering.

  River Pearl screamed my name. I hit him with all the explosive anger and terrible grief in me, knocking him back. He landed face-up, and we wrestled for control of the gun. I grabbed Earl’s arm and slammed it hard against the ground, but before I could shake the weapon loose, he punched me right
in the gunshot wound, and a white-hot pain made me double over and lose my breath, momentarily shorting out all thought and strength.

  Howling in pain and rage, I twisted away from the second punch he threw, nausea churning in my gut and blood and sweat flying. He missed me, but he brought the gun up again.

  River was right there, slamming a branch down at him. The gun fired again, the second explosion just as loud. The gators thrashed behind us, the water dirty with the mud and silt disturbed from the bottom.

  Earl cried out and dropped the weapon, River reached for it, but he backhanded her across the face and she reeled away, landing hard.

  I struggled to stay conscious, dizziness disorienting me while the world dipped and tilted. Then Earl and I were rolling through the water and mud, pain biting, muscles burning, heart pumping.

  I managed to scramble away, and as Earl tried to struggle to his feet, I slammed a left into his face, then lunged up and forward, scrambling for the gun just out of my reach. Earl roared and hit me like a linebacker, and the gun flew from my hand before I could grasp it. I landed heavily on my back, the excruciating pain of the gunshot wound roaring through me. I couldn’t breathe. Earl picked up a rock and slammed it into my temple, and everything went gray and indistinct.

  I knew he climbed off me, and I heard River scream. I turned my head to see him straddling her, ripping at her clothes, holding her down by the neck. She was fighting him, scratching at his face.

  From some fathomless, unseen well I drew the last drops of will and courage I had. I rolled to my side, grunting at the pain. Stumbling forward, rage and adrenaline fueling my feet, I grabbed Earl by the back of his shirt and hauled him off River. Balling up my fist, I smashed him right in the face, and blood gushed from his nose. I hit him again and again until it was pulp. With the last of my strength, I put everything I had into an uppercut to his jaw that propelled him straight into the gators.