And he was worried about the consequences for both of them.
The wind picked up from the west and carried rain with it. The downpour was hard and short-lived, like most in the area. They kept walking through it following the light they could no longer see. By the time the storm blew over, they were soaked to the skin. The strong scent of wet sage permeated the night air.
Sarah walked with both arms wrapped tightly around her body. Her hair curled, cupping wet around cheekbones, jaw and collarbone. Her chin trembled with an endless shiver.
“You okay?” He wished he had a jacket to put around her shoulders. As it was, he was starting to shiver, too.
“Fine.”
He doubted that. But at least he could get her to Layton’s. The foreman would take care of her. Get her clothes dry. Lend them a phone. It would all be over soon.
Layton’s place was less than impressive. A small trailer nestled at the foot of a flat-topped hill referred to as a bench. At least the bench offered some shelter from the wicked basin winds. To the rear of the trailer sat a nice-sized horse barn flanked on one side by a corral fenced in lodgepole pine rails. As far as Eric knew, Layton’s horses were kept at the Buckrail. But all horse people he’d ever met invested far more in their horse operation than their own homes. Layton Adams seemed to fit that mold to a T.
“Looks like no one’s home.”
Earlier he’d been surprised Layton wasn’t at the ranch. If the foreman and the other hands had been, the sheriff would never have been able to nearly get away with hurting Sarah. “Where is he?”
“He and the other hands took a herd of steers to the BLM. I knew they’d be late getting back, but he should have been home by now.”
Eric nodded. The BLM was a shorthand way of describing the vast amount of acreage in Wyoming controlled by the federal government’s Bureau of Land Management. Sarah must have leased some of the land to graze her cattle. “Maybe he got detained.”
Sarah snapped around to stare at him. “You think the sheriff might do something to Layton?”
“I’m sure he’s okay.” Truth was, he didn’t know. And judging from the way Sarah looked at him, she took his assurances for what they were worth. Not much.
He gestured to the trailer. “Is there any way we can get in? Use his phone?”
“I don’t have a key, if that’s what you mean. And I doubt he would stash one outside. Not after what happened to his daughter. He’s been pretty paranoid about things like locking doors ever since.”
“His daughter?” As long as Eric had known Layton, he was a man alone. No wife. No family. He lived for his work and the only emotional attachment he seemed to have to anyone was his devotion to Sarah. “I didn’t know Layton had a family.”
“His daughter was murdered.”
“Murdered?”
“It happened years ago. Layton’s daughter was shot at a friend’s slumber party. An ex-boyfriend of one of the girls. It was the stuff of legends at my school. Only difference was, I knew one of the families.”
“Man. That had to be tough.”
“He and his wife split a few months later. That’s when he came to work at the Buckrail.”
Eric wiped a hand over his face. It explained a lot about Layton. The man had no sense of humor and little personality. Life had obviously kicked it out of him.
But as bad as he felt for the Buckrail’s foreman, all the sympathy in the world didn’t earn them the use of a phone. “Is there some other way in?”
“You mean break in?”
“You got a better idea?”
Sarah frowned at the tiny trailer. “If you lift me up to a window, maybe I can jimmy the lock.”
They wound through Layton’s sorry excuse for a lawn, shadows making the sage look as big as hedges. When they reached the trailer, Eric clasped his hands and lowered them, ready to boost Sarah up to the window like he’d boosted her onto the bay mare’s back.
A click and scrape came from somewhere behind his head. The sound of a rifle chambering a round. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Chapter Five
“Layton.” Sarah turned and wobbled on one foot, her other cradled in Eric’s hands. “It’s okay, Layton. It’s me.”
She could barely see her foreman’s frown in the darkness. He held a long gun at the ready, its barrel pointing square in the center of Eric’s back. At her feet, Radar scootched in close, trying to catch Layton’s attention. His wagging tail wiggled his whole body.
“Sarah.” Layton glanced at her but didn’t lower the weapon. “Thank God you’re okay.”
“I’m glad you’re here. Some bad things are happening. We need to use your phone.”
Layton’s bushy gray brows dipped. His narrowed eyes drilled into Eric’s back. “Bad things. Yeah, I heard.”
Eric released her foot. He started to straighten.
“Don’t move, son.”
Sarah stepped toward him. “Layton—”
“Careful, Sarah. I don’t think you know what this man here has done.”
“Done?” She scrambled to make sense of what he was saying. Eric had done nothing…unless Layton was talking about how he’d ambushed the sheriff to save her. “Did you see Sheriff Gillette at the Buckrail?”
“’Course I did. Had to put up the horses and park the rig, didn’t I?”
“I don’t know what he told you, but…”
“He told me all I needed to hear. The law is looking for this man.”
Eric raised his hands to the level of his ears and stood straight. “Maybe I can—”
“You shut your mouth, boy.”
Sarah gasped. For a moment, she thought Layton was going to pull the trigger. She held her breath.
“I ain’t listening to anything you have to say, after what you did. You move again, and you won’t be alive to say another word.”
Sarah tried to angle her body between Layton and Eric. She had to convince her foreman to lower the rifle. She had to make him understand. “Eric only did what he did to save me.”
Layton stared at her, brows arched. “Did what he did? For you? I don’t think you know what’s gone down today, Sarah.”
“The sheriff. He was asking me questions. He threatened me. He was going to hurt me, Layton. Eric stopped him.”
He shook his head. “What I’m talking about don’t have much to do with the sheriff. It’s Randy, Sarah. He’s dead.”
Even though Sarah had spent the last hours dwelling on her brother’s loss, hearing Layton say the words out loud jolted through her as if she was experiencing them for the first time. She swallowed and willed herself not to begin crying anew. “I know.”
“There’s more. More that you don’t know.”
Her head felt light, like it was spinning. She needed to ask, to find out what else had happened. But she couldn’t manage to squeeze the words past her lips.
“It’s him, Sarah.” Layton tipped the brim of his Stetson at Eric. “He’s the one who did it. He killed your brother in cold blood.”
“No. No. Listen, Layton—”
“I’ll listen. Long as you need me to. First I got to call the sheriff.”
“No, please. Wait. Just for a second. You don’t understand.”
“I think I’m understanding everything just fine. He’s wanted for murder. Your brother’s murder. There’s a statewide manhunt.”
A manhunt. For a fugitive. Sarah felt dizzy. So much for convincing other law enforcement agencies to help. The sheriff had beaten them to it. But maybe she could convince Layton to at least give Eric a chance to get away while he could. “Please, Layton. For me.”
Layton paused. His breath fogged the air before dissipating into the night.
“Talk to me. Inside. Alone.” She glanced at Eric. She could tell by his wary expression, he was worried about letting her out of his sight. Despite herself, a warm flutter centered in her chest. She pulled in a sharp breath of cold night air. “It will just take a minute. Then you
can do what you need to do.”
Layton focused on Eric and frowned. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“He won’t.” She exchanged looks with Eric, willing him to see she was giving him a chance to flee.
Layton shook his head slowly. “I ain’t taking the chance that he’ll run off.” He motioned for Eric to walk toward the trailer door with a wave of his rifle.
“What are you going to do?”
He eyed a lariat that was laying on the steps leading to the door, as if he’d dropped it when he’d seen them approaching his home. “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t sneak away before our talk is over.”
“This isn’t necessary, Layton. I’m not going to run off and leave Sarah here.”
She tried not to think about how he’d done exactly that just three months ago, but some bitter remnant inside her couldn’t help taking note. It figured that when his leaving finally made sense, Eric resisted the urge. “Please, Layton. He won’t leave.”
Layton dropped his gaze to the ground. “Take off your boots. Socks, too.”
Eric glanced at Sarah, then knelt and did as Layton ordered. He tucked the socks into his boots and stood barefoot on the rocky ground.
“Bring those along, will you, Sarah?” Layton asked, his stare not wavering from Eric. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Lander. You wander out of the light here, and you’re game during hunting season, as far as I’m concerned. Understand?”
“Understand.” Eric met Sarah’s eyes and he mouthed, Be careful.
Sarah focused on Layton. She’d known him most of her life. Layton was like a second father to her. No, more than that. He was far more attentive and caring than her own father had ever been. Layton wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t turn her over to the sheriff. He couldn’t.
Unease fluttered over her skin like the cold wind. She followed him into the trailer, carrying Eric’s hiking boots in her hand. Once the screen door slammed behind her, she set the boots on the floor and faced Layton.
The foreman closed the solid door and stepped to the living room window. Watching Eric outside, he lowered the rifle, pointing the barrel at the floor, and slipped his finger out of the trigger guard. “That man killed your brother, Sarah.”
“That’s what the sheriff told you?”
“Not just him. It’s been all over the news. Like I said, there’s a statewide manhunt. We have to call the sheriff. Report that he’s here.”
“Eric didn’t kill Randy.”
“I figured you’d say that.”
“He didn’t.”
“Were you there?”
“No.”
He let out a breath. “Then you don’t really know what happened.”
“Neither do you.”
“The sheriff does. They have forensics people. They found his hunting rifle.”
“Eric’s?”
“That’s what Sheriff Gillette said. They think it’s the murder weapon, Sarah.”
“No. It can’t be. Or at least Eric wasn’t the one who fired it.”
“They found his truck at the ranch. Towed it away for testing. It had blood in it.”
“His head was bleeding. Eric didn’t kill Randy.” Sarah had to find a way to make Layton listen. He didn’t understand. How could he? He hadn’t seen the sheriff’s desperation when he didn’t get the answers he expected. He didn’t know what the man was willing to do to her. What he’d almost done. “It’s the sheriff, Layton. Two of his deputies shot Randy. The sheriff himself threatened to hit me.”
Layton focused his full attention on her. “He…what did he do?”
“He handcuffed me and asked me questions about Randy. Where he was going. What I knew.” She held up her hands to show him the bruises on her wrists, starting to purple.
“And what did you tell him?”
“That I didn’t know anything. I mean, I knew he was climbing with Eric. That’s all he told me. But Sheriff Gillette didn’t believe me.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No. No. Eric got there first. But if he hadn’t jumped Gillette, I don’t know what would have happened.”
Layton stared out the window. Although he focused on Eric, who was standing unmoving within the circle of light glowing from above the door, his thoughts seemed far away.
Maybe she was reaching him. “If Eric’s rifle was used to shoot Randy, then someone else was firing it. One of the deputies.”
Layton rubbed his chin between fingers and thumb. “You really believe him?”
“I do.”
“You believed him last winter.”
Sarah’s cheeks heated. She’d thought she’d found something with Eric. Something that would grow. Something that would last. She had been wrong. Although she’d never told Layton exactly how she felt about Eric, it didn’t surprise her that he knew. He had to have seen it, in her happiness when she and Eric were together and in her devastation after Eric had broken it off. “I know I was wrong then. But I’m not wrong now. Eric is not a murderer.”
“If he’s as innocent as you say, he should turn himself in.”
She didn’t want to argue with him. Not when she knew she couldn’t win. Layton trusted the law. The system had delivered justice when his daughter was killed all those years ago. It was no surprise he wanted to trust it now. “That’s up to Eric.”
He shook his head. “Maybe so. But if you’re with him, you’re in danger. The sheriff will think you’re part of Lander’s plan. That you’re working with him or something.”
“I am working with him. I’m working to find the truth.”
“I don’t want you hurt, Sarah. You’re my family…like my own daughter.”
An ache hollowed out at the base of her throat. It was true. Since Layton had lost his daughter, he’d adopted Sarah in every way that mattered. He’d watched over her, cared for her, been there for her, while her parents were too wound up in their war with one another to give much thought to their children. Sometimes she couldn’t help but feeling that Layton’s attention had saved her from following Randy’s self-destructive path. “I know. I feel the same way about you.”
“Then do as I say. Let the sheriff take Lander. Let the law sort things out. You can stay here with me. I’ll protect you.”
That had always been the bottom line for Layton. Protecting her. But he hadn’t seen the sheriff’s face, his desperation, his refusal to let anything stand in his way. Layton was a good man, but he didn’t have any special kind of pull in the county. As the owner of a decent-sized cattle operation, she had more political muscle than he did. If the sheriff continued to come after her, as he’d already started, a man like Layton couldn’t stop him, no matter what the foreman wanted to believe.
And she didn’t believe for one second that the law would sort anything out. The sheriff couldn’t have Eric and her testifying in court. He would never let things go that far. “I can’t do that, Layton. I can’t sit by and let you turn Eric over to the sheriff.”
The older man looked at her. His fence-straight frame seemed to droop in front of her eyes. “Don’t throw your life away on someone like him.”
“The sheriff is framing Eric, Layton. He might even have him killed. Just like he and his men killed Randy.”
The foreman shook his head. “I know you loved your brother, but he chose the type of life he wanted. He hung out with a rough crowd. Scum. Keith and Glenn saw his truck down to the Full Throttle the very afternoon he got out of jail. You hang out with people like that, you become one of ’em, Sarah. Any one of those friends of Randy’s might have killed him at any time.”
She could feel the tears again, that pressure, that sting. He wasn’t listening. “But Eric saw—”
“That’s just it. Eric saw. You don’t know what reasons he might have to lie. The sheriff and deputies shooting people down? That’s pretty hard to believe.”
“You didn’t see the sheriff the way I did. He’s convinced I know whatever it is Randy was looking for. He’s not just
going to let me walk away, even if I am not with Eric.”
“Do you know what he’s looking for?”
“No. And neither does Eric.”
Layton looked down at the floor. He stroked the stock of his rifle with his thumb.
Did he believe her? She’d like to think so, but she couldn’t tell. “We need to find out what’s going on. We need to learn the truth.”
“Seems like the truth is staring you in the face, but you don’t want to see it.”
She was sure it did seem that way to him. She shook her head.
“You stay with him and you’re putting yourself in danger, Sarah.”
“I might be in danger, but it’s not coming from Eric.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“I’m sure.”
Her stomach tightened, making her feel sick. She had to think of something to convince him. Her and the ranch were all Layton really cared about. Maybe that was the key. “I’ll make you a deal.”
He tilted his head and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
“If you don’t call the sheriff, if you forget Eric was here, I’ll stay here with you.”
“You’re asking a lot, Sarah.”
“Please, Layton. The sheriff is corrupt. I’m afraid if he catches Eric, he’ll kill him.”
He shook his head. “Sheriff Gillette believes in justice. He’s a lawman to his bones.”
Despite his obvious doubts, Layton would never believe the sheriff was a murderer. He had no reason to distrust the law and every reason to distrust Eric. She doubted anything she said could make him change his mind. But maybe she didn’t have to. “All he needs is time to find out what’s going on. Time to discover why Randy died. Listen to me. Please, Layton.”
He stared over the top of her head and out the window. Finally he gave a hesitant nod. “I’ll always listen to you. I just don’t agree that letting a murderer go is a good idea.”
Rocky Mountain Fugitive Page 4
