“Sons-of-bitches.”
Banner looked at Callum, sharing his disgust but not the wrath stamped on his chiseled features. She touched his hand. “Callum . . .” she whispered, trying to calm him.
He backed away, having none of it. “No. Don’t. Not now, Banner.” Then he spun about and marched toward the house again, yelling to Shane. “Take that bullshit down off the barn and burn it. The flag, too! Do it now.”
“Yes, sir,” Shane said, already trotting toward the barn.
Banner stood rooted to the spot as Callum swung up into Butter’s saddle and rode away, the horse’s hooves muffled by the snow. Cold air wrapped around her and she shivered, her teeth rattling.
Looking toward the house again, she saw Seth Latimer standing on the front porch, his squinty eyes fixed on the barn. He shook his head slowly, then turned and made his way back into the house.
Banner went inside, too, but she stood at the kitchen window and watched as Shane jerked down the big sheet and Confederate flag. He bundled them up and set them on fire, standing near them until they were nothing but ashes scattered by winter’s breath.
Gone. But the malevolence had left its stain like the black hole in the snow.
###
After spending a few hours tracking the four men on horseback who had ridden from his home in the general direction of town, Callum spurred Butter into a gallop to Piney Ridge. He slowed the big horse to a fast walk onto the main street, weaving in and out among slower traffic. Reaching the sheriff’s office, he tied Butter to the hitching post and strode into the small, stuffy building. It was empty.
“Anybody here?”
“Yeah!” someone called from back where the jail cell was located. Sheriff Jacoby came into view, holding a dripping mop. “Had a drunk in here last night and he vomited all over the floor.” He made a face of disgust as he shoved the mop into a bucket. “What can I do for you, Latimer?”
“I’ve about reached the end of my rope, Sheriff.” Callum told himself to hold onto his temper, but it was like trying to rein in a randy stallion. “The cowards that call themselves vigilantes paid a visit to my place this morning and wrote a threat on the side of my barn. When are you going to call in the Texas Rangers to help with this?”
The sheriff thumbed his white mustache. “What kind of threat?”
“Join or die.” He stared at the sheriff through narrowed eyes. “I don’t intend to do either. I know you’ve been to their meetings. I’ve seen you there. Have you joined?”
Sheriff Jacoby bristled. “Hell, no. I was there to keep an eye on things. And I’m not calling in the Texas Rangers. I can handle this.”
“Uh-huh.” Like hell. “Who shot at me?”
“You didn’t give me much to go on.”
“Got any ideas? Any suspects?”
“I talked to Jeb Johnson and he didn’t know anything about it. Said he was over in Gainesville last month.”
“Huh. He didn’t confess to trying to kill me? Did he also say he’s not part of the masked riders roaming around and causing havoc? Guess he didn’t know anything about my herd being scattered either.”
The older man stared hard at Callum and Callum stared right back, harder.
“Latimer, I’ll handle this my way.”
“Sheriff, we’ve known each other since I was a boy and I’ve always respected you, but like I said, I’ve reached my limit on this. I didn’t go through hell and back to let some hotheads threaten me and my operation.” He started to point a warning finger at the sheriff, but his frustration reached a boiling point and he rammed the side of his fist onto the sheriff’s desk instead, making the lawman flinch.
“Hey, hey. You threatening me now?”
“No.” Callum sucked in a deep breath. “Get reinforcement, Sheriff. It’s getting dangerous out there.”
Sheriff Jacoby nodded and crossed his arms against his barrel chest, waiting for Callum to make tracks. After a few more tense seconds, Callum stalked out to Butter. Flinging himself up into the saddle, he turned the Palomino toward home, barely avoiding a young black man riding a little Shetland like they were being chased by the hounds of Hell.
He was about halfway home when he heard hoof beats behind him and turned in the saddle to see Sheriff Jacoby astride his sturdy Morgan racing toward him. He angled Butter off to the side of the road and waited for the sheriff to catch up, wondering what was so important to go chasing after him.
“Come with me!” The sheriff’s face was set in haggard lines. “There’s trouble at Altus Decker’s place.”
Callum smirked. “What? Did they threaten him, too?”
“No. They killed him.”
###
Putting away the last of the dinner dishes, Banner removed her apron and hung it on its nail. All of the men, with the exception of Callum, had come in for the meal. Hollis reported that Callum had followed tracks into town. He’d left instructions with Hollis to escort Banner to and from the Latimer ranch from now on.
“Whatever for?”
“Because he says it’s dangerous times and a lady shouldn’t be riding by herself,” Hollis had replied. “And he’s right.”
“I can take care of myself. I’ve been—”
“I don’t want you coming here if you’re not going to let Hollis ride with you,” Seth had interrupted her.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” But she’d dropped her protests because she could tell by the stubborn set of the men’s jaws that they were about as flexible as a rock.
Seth looked up from the newspaper he was reading when she entered the parlor. “Hollis should be around in an hour or so.”
“I could be home by then.” She sat on the sofa with a sigh. “I worry about Mary and Ki and their sons with all this crazy talk about Indian raids or horse stealing.”
Seth folded the paper and set it aside. “So do I. I’ve talked to Ki about it. This isn’t anything new to them, you know. Whites against red people? Been bad blood ever since we started staking claims on lands that the Indians had camped on for generations.”
“My pa was even distrustful of Indians,” she confessed. “He often said he couldn’t understand how you could have them working for you. He said they’d end up slicing your throats and stealing you blind one day.”
Seth smirked. “I might have been thinking the same if I hadn’t been raised around Comanche, Kiowa, and Cherokees.” He tipped his head to one side slightly. “Did you know that my grandmother was Comanche?”
“No, I didn’t.”
He chuckled as if the very notion of it delighted him. “Yep. My grandfather came over from Ireland and was a scout and a trapper. He took himself a Comanche wife. I think she was given to him by the chief.” He shrugged. “Anyway, he must have liked her because he kept her and they had ten children.”
“That’s quite a family story.”
“I have a colorful history, but my wife didn’t think so. She didn’t like for me to talk about my Indian blood. On my wife’s side, they were from England and had Lords and Ladies in their family tree.”
Yes, that sounded like Lacy Latimer. She’d always had her nose poking up in the air and she’d been adorned with a pearl necklace and earbobs every time Banner had ever seen her. Settling back on the sofa where she could see out the window and watch for Hollis, Banner tried to relax. Hollis wouldn’t be around to collect her for a while. He’d work with the others until the sun was almost ready to set before he’d call it a day.
“Did you ever meet my wife?”
“Yes, sir. A couple of times.” Banner left it at that since she’d never liked Mrs. Latimer. A beauty, she’d had porcelain skin, raven hair, and deep brown eyes. She’d spoken with a Georgia accent and her voice had been breathy and soft as duck’s down.
“I was lucky she consented to marry me,” Seth mused. “Seeing as how she knew she was my second choice.”
Banner arched a brow, intrigued. She’d heard rumors all her life about her father and Seth and what the
real bone of contention was between them. Was he on the verge of actually admitting it?
Seth reached for his pipe and tamped the tobacco down into the bowl. He lit it, puffing and puffing until he finally got it going to his satisfaction. His gaze searched out Banner through the smoke. “I courted your mother. Did you know that?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, I’ve heard talk about that.”
“Folks still talk about it, do they?” He chuckled at that, clearly amazed. “She liked me and I was head over heels in love with her. I was winning her over to my side, little by little, until she met your papa. He was in town picking up some supplies and her bonnet blew off and went sailing down the street. He chased after it, caught it, and brought it back to her. And that was that.” He drew strongly on the pipe a few times. “She was done with me.”
Banner stared outside, unsure of what to say. She’d heard this “first meeting” story from her father and mother more times than she could count. However, neither one had ever mentioned that Seth Latimer had been courting her mother at the time.
“Never could understand what she saw in him.”
“He made her laugh and blush and she made him feel like a giant among men,” Banner said, feeling that she should come to their defense. “When Mama died, Papa lost his zest for life. He just hung on by his fingernails.”
Seth stared at the fire in the hearth for long minutes before he said, “I know how that feels. My heart cracked open and bled out when I got word that two of my sons were dead, but when Lacy perished, my heart crumbled to dust.” He shook his head as if awakening from a trance. “Who would have ever thought you and me would sit like this and talk of such things?”
“Makes you believe in miracles, doesn’t it?” She stood and put another log on the fire. “I was never your enemy, Mr. Latimer.”
“I know.” He dropped his gaze as if he were ashamed. “I hold a grudge.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” She winked at him when his eyes found hers in surprise.
He shook his index finger in a gentle admonishment. “I admit I’m a stubborn cuss, but I also admit that I’m obliged to you for helping me get some of my strength back. I walked all the way out to the barn and back to the house last Sunday.”
“My oh my! I’m proud to hear it.” Settling back onto the sofa, she smoothed out the doily on its arm. When she looked up, she spotted a rider in the distance. “Looks like Hollis has arrived.” Even as the words left her lips, she doubted them. The proud set of those shoulders didn’t belong to Hollis. “No, it’s Callum.” She was on her feet before she was even aware of moving and at the doorway in three steps, her curiosity piqued. What had he been doing all day?
He swung out of the saddle and strode toward the house, not even pausing to see to his horse. Head down, he didn’t spot Banner standing just inside the door until he was almost on top of her.
“Is Hollis here yet?”
“No.” She stepped aside so that he could enter the house. He smelled of leather and winter – and something else. Something that made her stomach knot. “Where have you been?”
“A lot of places.”
The grim set of his mouth sent a chill down her spine. “What’s happened?”
“I tried to track the people who put that sign on the barn.” He turned toward his father. “Went to the sheriff to try to light a fire under his – him.” He cleared his throat. Pulling in a big breath, he propped his hands on his lean hips and stared at his snow and mud splattered boots. “The sheriff caught up with me when I was heading home and had me go with him to Decker’s ranch. His ranch hands found Decker swinging from a tree this morning.”
“W-what?” Banner’s knees liquefied and she plopped down on the sofa, staring slack-jawed at Callum and then at his father. Seth’s mouth was also ajar. She covered her face in her hands, realizing what scent she’d caught on Callum. Death. She’d smelled it many times during the war when she’d worked in the hospitals.
“It’s a helluva mess,” Callum said, shaking his head as he continued to stare at his boots. “Nobody heard or saw a damned thing. But there were tracks all around the house and it looked like they’d roped Decker, beat him, and dragged him out away from the house to the hanging tree. There was blood all in the snow. I’d say there were at least four or five men on horseback.”
“Damn fools.” Seth drew on his pipe, sending billows of smoke into the air.
“I want the sheriff to get the Texas Rangers involved in this, but he won’t send for them. He’s going to hire a couple of deputies. At least he finally understands what I’ve been telling him for weeks.” He looked up, his gaze locking with his father’s. “We’re being overrun by outlaws and cowards.” He swung around suddenly and ducked to look out the window.
“Is it Hollis?” Banner asked, already moving toward the door.
“No.” Callum grabbed her arm, halting her. “Stay here. I’ll handle this.”
“Who is it?” she asked, but received no answer because Callum was already shoving open the door and stepping outside to confront the stranger. He would have shut the door behind him, but Banner held it open so that she could watch from the threshold.
Callum stood, legs braced apart, his right hand resting on the butt of his holstered gun. Banner looked from his imposing form to the man who had started to dismount, then seemed to think better of it, and settled back in the saddle. He smiled, but there wasn’t anything friendly about him.
“Nice spread you have here, Latimer.”
“Yeah, and you’re trespassing, Taylor.”
“Is that how you greet visitors?”
“I generally shoot vermin like you.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?”
“No. This is.” In a blink of an eye, Callum drew his revolver and fired. A chunk of snow and frozen soil flew up a few inches from the front hooves of Taylor’s horse. The animal flung her head and danced backward as Taylor fought for control over the mare again.
Banner gasped and stared, wide-eyed, at Callum’s broad back. Had he actually just fired on that man? Dimly, she sensed Seth Latimer hitching up from his chair and lumbering toward her, the thump of his cane shuddering the floorboards.
“You crazy bastard!” Taylor shouted at Callum. “What in the hell is wrong with you? I’m here to clear the air. Have a friendly talk with you.”
“I’ve just come from Altus Decker’s place,” Callum said, quietly, levelly, as if he hadn’t just shot at him. He held his gun at the ready. “So I’m not in the mood for your bullshit. Speak your peace and make tracks.”
Taylor’s face became almost the same color as his red beard and mustache. “I heard about Decker. He tromped on the wrong toes. Ran his mouth off once too often.” He kept glancing at the gun pointed at him. “I understand that you’re friendly with the Injuns and that’s okay, I guess. But it must surely make your blood boil to see darkies strutting about like they got a right and Yankees taking over everything.”
“What makes my blood boil is for cowards to trespass on my property and leave threats tacked to my barn. What makes my blood boil is when gutless husks of so-called men hide their faces under hoods or masks while they torture and murder.”
“You need to stand with your neighbors or prepare to fall to your knees.”
Callum raised his gun and cocked the hammer. “Get.”
“You shoot me and I’ll make sure you hang.” Taylor’s dark eyes glinted with animus.
Banner was so caught up in the tense standoff that she smothered a yelp when Seth pushed her out of the way and thumped onto the porch. She reached out to him, her fingers skimming down his suspenders, but he paid her no mind.
“Son, don’t waste bullets on this dung heap,” Seth drawled. “Mister, I don’t know who the hell you are, but you seem to be thick-headed. If the bullet aimed in your direction didn’t send a strong enough message, then listen tight.” The older man stuck out his jaw and glared at Taylor. “Get off our land and stay off it. You�
��re not welcome here.”
Taylor managed a half-smile, but he turned his horse around. “You ought to listen to your cousin, Latimer. He has the smarts in the family.” He set spur to horseflesh and rode away.
Banner let out her breath in a rush. She looked from Seth to Callum; two men cut from the same cloth.
“Who is he?” she asked. “Where do you know him from?”
“He’s been at the meetings in town,” Callum said, holstering his gun. “His name is Bob Taylor and he’s good buddies with Eller.”
“Figures,” Seth said. “He’s the type Eller would stick to like a bur. Big mouth and little balls.”
Callum chuckled. “Banner, we should—”
“Here comes Hollis.” Seth nodded at the horizon where Hollis on horseback was silhouetted against the orange and pink sky.
“’Bout time,” Callum grumbled under his breath, then he jogged down the steps and strode out to greet him, leaving her to wonder what he’d been about to say to her.
Chapter 14
She was standing in the kitchen washing breakfast dishes when the sound of raised voices pierced her woolgathering and Banner glanced up from the gray, soapy water. Through the wavy window panes, she spotted Callum and Eller standing less than a foot apart, glaring daggers at each other, their hands balled into fists. Puffs of fog accompanied each bitten out word, but she couldn’t make out the conversation. Only that they were almost shouting at each other.
What in heaven’s name is going on now?
Drying her hands on a dishtowel, she walked to the back door and opened it. Callum’s voice cut through the brittle air.
“. . . yellow-bellied sonsofbitches.”
“Watch it, Cal. I won’t stand here and be—”
“What? What the hell are you going to do, Eller, when it’s only you and me, face to face?”
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