by Janis Jakes
Luke squatted down and touched the ground at his feet. Heat seared his eyes as a release rolled from his innermost being. Anger and regret flowed from his soul, cleansing him in a gentle current of grace. No one spoke. They let silence do its work, until Henry, Jr., began to whimper.
“I’m sure he’s hungry and tired,” Abigail said.
“We should head back.” Henry, Sr., patted her shoulder.
“We’ll go with you,” Luke said, glancing toward his father. “We’ve got to go to El Paso for business.”
Walking Stick lifted his hand upward, drawing their attention. Luke knew it was the way he’d done before speaking in the tribal council. It meant his words held weight.
“I want to stay here,” he said.
“Since when do you stay anywhere?” Luke asked in confusion.
“Since today.”
“With us?” Abigail asked, hope upon her features.
Walking Stick made a slow circle. “Where I should have stayed all along. At this place. On this land.”
Abigail looked to Luke.
He nodded in approval. “Then consider it yours. But what happened to the lone wolf?”
“My soul has found its rest. I am no longer searching.”
Abigail reached out, placing her hand in her father’s and laying her head upon his shoulder. Just the sight warmed Luke’s heart. His father would get to see Abigail often—probably more often than he wanted. He’d also get to know Henry, Sr., and come to admire his quiet wisdom. He’d get to watch Henry, Jr., grow into a man and even teach him how to make arrowheads and string a bow. And he’d have a chance to be part of a family. Not just any family, but his own. He knew it was exactly what his mother would want.
The thought brought sweetness to his soul and clarity to his vision. Confusion and doubt vanished. He knew what he had to do. Like his father, he was no longer searching. He had found his home—with Billie.
~*~
Luke sat in Theo’s office. “Your man hasn’t come up with anything?”
“Sheriff McGregor is slicker than you think.” Theo twisted the tips of his mustache—first one side then the other. “Our man says he never lets his guard down and looks as clean as the Rocky Mountain snow. He won’t take a drop of liquor, so there’s no chance of loosening his lips. Our man’s starting to think McGregor is innocent, and we’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“And you? What do you think?”
“I’m still on your side. But we’ve got to prove you’re right—preferably before your friend ends up dead.”
“I have her hidden away.”
“Where is she?” Theo asked.
Luke eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”
Theo shook his head, not bothering to hide his growing annoyance. “All right. Keep your secrets. But is she safe?”
“For now. Don’t act so offended. At this point, I don’t trust my own shadow. I’m keeping Billie Jo’s whereabouts to myself.”
“We need more time. Suspects always crack. I’ve learned that criminals like to brag. Our guy will eventually get him to talk.”
Luke shook his head. “No, Theo. I appreciate your help on this one, but I’ve got a new plan.”
“How about you share it with me since Littleton and Clark is the one who hired you, and I’m the director of this operation?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Did you forget that I’m the one who pays you?”
“You’ve never interfered in my plans before,” Luke said, working to keep his temper. “Why would you want to start now?”
Theo held up his hands in resignation. “Very well. Do what you need to do, but the insurance company wants someone to blame for taking their money. They’re not paying until there’s an arrest, which means we won’t get paid either. So whatever you do—“
“It all comes down to money, doesn’t it?” Luke shook his head, a smirk upon his lips. “You don’t care who gets arrested as long as someone does.”
“I don’t know what’s got you all twisted up, but that’s not even close to the truth.” Theo thumped his desktop with his finger. “I want the person responsible for the murder of Malcolm Jones and the stolen gold to be caught and sentenced. That’s what I want.” He straightened his back, his stare unflinching. “Now, I’d appreciate an apology.”
Luke sank back into the chair with an exhale.
Theo loosened his stiff spine, leaning forward with a kinder gaze. “Must be woman troubles. Nothing messes with a man’s head like a woman.”
Luke growled under his breath. “My personal life is none of your business.”
“It is if it affects your job.”
“Maybe so, but I’m about done with this line of work. After this assignment, I’m doing something different with my life.”
Theo gaped. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m every bit of serious. It’s getting harder to tell the good guys from the bad guys. When I first started, I felt as if I was doing something positive. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“You’re our most trusted recovery specialist.”
Luke hesitated for several seconds, staring out across the room and the busyness that continued within them. The hectic pace of life. The faces that changed every week. The demands of a job that took a toll on the human existence. It was getting more difficult every day.
Was it because of Billie Jo? In part, he admitted. But she wasn’t the only reason. When he took the time to examine his life, there was more—more reasons to rethink his goals and decide where he wanted to spend his future, and with whom.
She’d been right about his father. Walking Stick had made the wrong choice when he’d left his family behind, walking away from those who loved him the most. He didn’t want to make that same mistake. He didn’t want to look in the mirror and see the face of regret. If ever there was a time to rethink his life, the time was now.
“You’re going after her, aren’t you? You’ve fallen in love with Billie Jo Batson.” When Luke didn’t respond, Theo sighed—a heavy sound that drew his shoulders upward then down in one fluid movement. “Luke. We need you.”
“Maybe. But someone I love needs me more.” Luke’s heart pounded as he said the words. He loved her. It was an admission that filled him with joy…and fear. Would she forgive him enough to take him back?
“I hope she’s worth it. You’re walking away from a lucrative way of life—a job most men only wish they could have. If you need more money—“
Luke stood up. “She’s worth it—and no, I don’t need more money.” That wasn’t entirely true. He didn’t have enough to purchase a spread like he wanted, but if he could convince Billie Jo to be part of his life, he’d settle on a smaller place.
“All right, then.” Theo rose, extending his hand. “One last job. Let’s make it a good one.”
23
The early morning sun shone upon the small house with fresh paint and yellow curtains. Chickens pecked about the yard. A rooster stood nearby, giving him a scrutinizing eye. An arrow-shaped weathervane twirled about the roof. All and all, the house seemed well maintained but ordinary.
Luke made his way up the steps to the wrap-around porch. Boards creaked beneath his weight. He’d barely finished knocking when an attractive older woman stood at the door. She wiped her hands upon a white apron and giving him a blank stare. “Hello?”
His eyes lingered upon copper hair streaked with gray. “Good morning. My name is Luke Lancaster, and I’m a friend of Billie Jo’s. Are you Mrs. Batson?”
“Yes …” She straightened and her features twisted in turmoil. “I’m sorry, but Billie is not here. I’m not sure where she might be at the moment.”
“I know where she is, ma’am.”
A faint light flickered across her gaze. He knew that look. It was one of hope. “You’ve talked to her?”
“Billie Jo wants you to know that she’s safe.”
“Oh, my …” Mrs. Batson’s hand lifted to her c
hest as she opened the door. “Come in. Please.”
He stepped inside, noting the neatness of the house and the sweet smell of peaches and cinnamon that permeated the air. She led him down the hallway toward the dining area, where she removed a kettle of boiling water from the stovetop. “I was about to do the dishes. I’m sorry I don’t have anything to feed you at the moment, but if you can stay a bit, I’ve got peach cobbler baking.”
“I can’t stay. Billie Jo told me it wouldn’t be safe.”
“No. I suppose not.” Thin shoulders slumped in disappointment. “How is she doing? Is she well? Where has she gone?”
He grinned. “How about we take one question at a time.”
“I’m so relieved.” Her blue eyes gleamed. “I thought I’d never see her again. I thought—well, I’m sure you know what I thought.”
“You look a little pale. Do you want to sit down?”
“I’m fine.” She reached out, placing her hand on the back of a chair to keep steady. “Just so relieved—“
“Billie Jo is doing well. Yes, she is safe, and I’m not telling anyone where she’s staying. I’m sure you’ll learn soon enough.”
“And what was your name?”
“Luke Lancaster. I’m determined to clear your daughter’s name. I know she’s innocent. Any prayers you can spare would be appreciated.”
A frail hand reached out, touching his forearm. “Billie is my only living daughter, Mr. Lancaster. Her older sister died in childbirth. It has been so hard not knowing.” Tears clung to the tips of pale lashes. “I can’t tell you how much this means to my husband and me. He’s in town buying a few supplies, but I know he’ll be excited to hear you came to visit.”
“Does he go to town often?”
“Every week.” Her brows dipped in confusion. “It’s not very far.”
Luke reached inside his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, smoothing them out, and then handing them to her. “Billie Jo was worried about a horse she’d borrowed from the livery stable when she escaped. Would you please take this money to the stable master? It’s about double what the horse is worth, but I want him to have the cash. I know it would ease her mind.”
A gentle smile lifted her lips. “I would be honored.”
“I should go. It’s very nice to meet you.” He paused at the door, not sure what moved him to speak again. “Your daughter is an amazing woman.”
A knowing grin lifted the edges of her lips. “Thank you, Mr. Lancaster. I could not agree more.”
He walked out the door. On instinct, his eyes searched the surrounding countryside traveling over the valleys and hills to ensure he remained undetected. With his mind settled and his heart at peace, Luke leaped into the saddle and headed toward town.
He only had a couple of days to make arrangements before the showdown.
~*~
Luke relaxed in a chair at his favorite restaurant, enjoying a warm, buttered corn tortilla along with a scrambled egg topped with onion, jalapeno, and tomatoes. He’d barely finished eating when the newspaper publisher sauntered in.
Laurence plopped down in the chair opposite Luke and gave Luke a pointed glare. “This better be good. It’s a dusty trail from El Paso to Justice City, and my clothes have not fared well.”
“How predictable,” Luke said, almost smiling. “Here I am offering you a major news story, and you’re annoyed because of a little dust on your garments. Perhaps I should have left you alone—let you find out after the fact.”
“I’m not sure I trust you. Remember our last meeting?”
“As I recall, you did me a favor.”
Laurence glanced over his shoulder. “It’s only a matter of time before Sheriff McGregor and his deputies come looking for you. I’d rather not be in close proximity when that happens.”
“And that’s why I need your help.”
Laurence dipped his chin. “Why should I help you?”
“Because it gives you a chance to do the right thing and have a first-hand account of the story.”
“I’m intrigued. I admit. As a newspaperman and an investigator, I’d like to hear what you propose. But I will not risk my life for you, Luke. That I can promise.”
“I’m not asking you to, but I do need your word that you won’t tell a soul.”
Laurence leaned in closer—an eager grin upon his lips. “You have my word.”
~*~
Billie walked up and down the winding, hilly streets of the quaint Arkansas town, stepping into the clothing store to purchase a ready-made dress or two and a couple of bonnets. She couldn’t keep wearing the same clothes every day. She selected one dress in a pale daffodil color for church and another in a dove gray, which was more suitable for teaching attire. Both only needed minor alterations to fit.
Her uncle had offered her money to help her make the purchases, and she’d accepted. Although she had money saved, she could not get to it yet. Soon, she hoped, she could contact her mother and have all her funds transferred to the local bank. Then she could pay her uncle back every cent, whether he would accept or not.
She’d barely made it past a few of the shops when someone approached from behind. She turned, looking back over her shoulder to see a man giving her an attentive gaze. Her heart raced. He wore a gun and had the hard look of someone out to do no good. Billie walked a little faster, but he kept pace. Finally, when she thought she’d take off running, the man whistled and waved to someone across the street.
“Hey, Joe! Wait up.”
Her legs froze, stiffness traveling up her entire body.
The man’s spurs jingled as he scurried across the street, greeting his friend with a slap on the back and then guiding him into the general store.
“For goodness sake…” Billie muttered under her breath, feeling outright silly. Her hand rested on her chest, calming her runaway heart. I can’t live like this, Lord—always wondering, always afraid. Please, Father, move on my behalf. Help Luke help me, but most of all, keep him safe.
Her uncle loomed ahead of her loading grain into the buggy with a heavy grunt. Billie hurried toward him, thankful for a friendly face and eager to return to the ranch.
“This here is Amos,” her uncle said, pointing to a large young man with a bag of grain hoisted across his shoulder.
Amos laid the bag in the buckboard as if it were a feather. The man didn’t even break a sweat. The sack would be impossible for her to carry and almost impossible for her uncle.
“Amos lived at the ranch until about six months ago.” Uncle Rupert extended his palm her direction. “This is my niece, Miss Billie Jo Batson.”
“Your uncle done told me all about you.” Amos smiled from ear to ear. “The Schumann Ranch is one of a kind in these parts. Taught me respect for myself, respect for my peers, and respect for the Word of God. It’s a good thing you’re doing with them boys, Miss Billie. A mighty good thing. No one has to tell you, but God is pleased.”
His words washed over her like a warm wave of crystal-clear water. Wasn’t that all she ever wanted to do? Make a difference in a young person’s life. That was what drew her to teaching.
“You’re pretty young still, Amos. Why aren’t you living at the ranch?”
“I was adopted by the Barker family. They had a son, but he ran off, got married, and then took off with a traveling theater group. The Barkers needed help with the chores and told me if I’d be their son, they’d adopt me and take real good care of me. So far, that’s what they’ve done.”
“But your education—“
“I still go to school part of the time. I already know my numbers and my letters.” He grinned. “But if you want me to come out to the ranch and learn more, I can ask. I just don’t want to give up my family to do it.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re happy.” She smiled. “That’s important. And as long as you’re continuing your education, even if only part-time, I’m sure you’ll do fine in life.”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s what Mrs. Matilda s
aid, too. ‘Keep bettering yourself, Amos, and one day you’ll look back and be real proud.’” He grinned. “I’m already real proud.”
“I’m glad I got to meet you today. You’ve given me something to think about.”
“Something good, I hope,” he said, adding a chuckle.
Maybe staying at the ranch and running the place was not such a bad idea after all. Amos’ words showed that better lives improved self-esteem, and a sense of purpose was as important as learning letters and numbers.
“Would you like to join us for supper tonight?” Billie asked, hoping her uncle wouldn’t object.
“I think I would. It’s been too long since I talked to Mrs. Matilda and ate some of her black-eyed peas.”
“How’d you know we’d be having black-eyed peas?” Uncle Rupert asked, giving Amos a poke with his elbow that caused the younger man to chuckle.
“Mrs. Matilda has black-eyed peas for every supper.”
“We’ll save you a place at the table.” Billie grinned.
Uncle Rupert helped her into the buggy before taking the reins and giving them a gentle flick. “You certainly took charge back there. I think you’ll work out fine in your new job.”
Billie shook her head in amusement but did not object. The notion was starting to sound good to her.
24
Luke waited for Laurence to approach.
“I did what you said,” Laurence began, looking up and down the streets. Perspiration dotted his forehead and his wide-eyed gaze locked upon Luke.
“And?” Luke asked.
“Clovis Caldwell swallowed it like a crow eating a one-legged beetle.” He lifted his chin and grinned, a look of self-satisfaction upon his features. “This is rather exciting. I see now how a person could get drawn to your lifestyle.”
“This isn’t a game. Lives are at stake.”
“It is a game, in a way.”
Luke’s stare turned stern. He could see that Laurence had no idea he was playing with fire. “What’d Clovis say?”
“After I explained to him that I was a news reporter from El Paso wanting to do a story on the female fugitive who’d run off with his money and a well-known bounty hunter, he was all ears. Then when I told him where my sources said they were hiding; he ended the interview.”
