by Linda Broday
Seamus Belew stared down, his grin cruel, eyes cold.
Twenty
Deputy marshal Seamus Belew yanked Jack up over the edge of the ravine, giving no heed to his cries of agony. Taking Jack’s guns, the lawman tied his hands behind his back. “We’ve got some settling up to do. My brother demands justice and I’ve waited a long time to deliver.”
Jack gritted his teeth against the searing pain of his bonds and the cuts from the fight.
The gray, overcast sky had lightened a bit, allowing him a good view, although it was nothing to lift a man’s spirits. No other members of the posse gathered around. No Guthrie. No one. It seemed odd to see a wagon standing a few yards away. Must belong to Belew. It seemed to be carrying supplies in the bed, and Jack would wager everything he had that the wagon contained a long-handled shovel.
Dread crawled up his spine.
That meant only one thing—Belew meant to kill him and concoct some story. He might even bury him alive and no one would ever know what happened.
“I never figured you as one to get your hands dirty. Always thought you’d order someone else to do the deed. Reckon I was wrong.” Jack glanced around for a place to run. He wasn’t going to make killing him easy. He estimated the distance back to the ravine he’d crawled from. Maybe he could outrun a bullet.
But not in the rain and on the muddy ground. He’d get no traction.
“On your knees, Bowdre.” Seamus jerked him down. “This is as good a spot as any.”
Contact with the ground sent waves of liquid fire crashing over Jack. He glanced up at the sad sky, rain pelting his face, and thought of Nora. Thank goodness she wouldn’t see him die.
Not like this. Best if she never knew.
He regretted not making love to her just once. Something said that would’ve been real special. Maybe she’d find another husband to take care of her and give her a good life. She’d raise baby Willow, not looking too hard for kin, and maybe finish Sawyer’s upbringing. Nora Kane Bowdre would make a loving mother, guarding her children like a mother lion.
“Say your prayers,” Belew growled. He knocked off Jack’s hat and pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of his head.
The man was going to execute him on the spot. No judge. No trial. No gallows. One bullet to the back of his skull. Nice and neat.
“Got a cigarette?” Jack forced a casual tone.
“No, besides, you don’t smoke.”
Jack shrugged “Thought this might be a good time to start.”
“Funny.” Belew widened his stance. “This is for my brother.”
The next second seemed an eternity. Jack closed his eyes and waited for the explosion that would end his life.
Belew pulled the trigger and got nothing but a click.
The gun had misfired. Seamus released a string of curses.
“Go on believing that Max was innocent,” Jack snapped. “Won’t change the facts, that I was just doing my duty as a lawman.”
“Shut up.” Another click of the hammer readied Jack to plunge into eternity. He wouldn’t get lucky a third time.
He closed his eyes in anticipation of the pain of the searing bullet. He wouldn’t beg. “Get it over with, dammit. The rocks are jabbing into my knees.”
The sound of horses reached him, but he couldn’t turn to see who it was.
“Belew!” a deep voice barked. “Shoot him and you’ll be the next to die.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand plenty. Lower your weapon.”
The gun barrel eased from Jack’s head. He swiveled to see ten of the posse and the old marshal who’d spoken. That one wasn’t out for blood—only doing his job and seeing that Jack went to jail.
“Dammit, Hays, he was trying to get away.” Belew thrust his gun back into the holster so hard Jack heard the leather complain. He let out the breath trapped in his chest.
He’d lived to fight another day. But he knew Belew well enough to know the man wouldn’t give up. They would eventually settle this.
Only which one would walk away when they were finished?
Wearing a rain slicker, Marshal Hays moved to Jack on his bowlegs. “Stand up.” He turned to his men. “We’ll make camp here tonight. Can’t see a blasted thing in this rain. We’ll chain Bowdre to the wheel of that wagon. I hope you brought supplies, Belew.”
“I did. Figured we should have what we needed.”
The men dismounted and roughly took possession of Jack. Two of them were familiar, Gilbert and Red, who’d searched the cave the second day Jack and Nora were on the run. Gilbert removed manacles from his saddlebags. He snapped one end to Jack’s wrist and the other to a wagon spoke.
“Mind handing me my hat?” Shivering, Jack motioned to it, lying two feet away.
Gilbert picked it up and handed it to him. “It’ll shield your head a little I suppose.”
The men stretched a piece of canvas between the mesquites and made a fire. Soon they were drinking coffee and swapping yarns about their days of hunting outlaws.
Unprotected where he was, Jack’s teeth rattled. He’d crawled as far under the wagon as the chain allowed, but the hard angle of the rain offered no escape. He pulled his bloody duster together and huddled as deep into the folds as he could.
Even if the storm passed, it was going to be a miserable night. He stared at a large elm tree with outreaching limbs fifty yards away and wished for its shelter overhead.
Just then he saw something move in the brush. An animal?
Hope soared when he heard the familiar duck call.
Clay Colby had found him. This was the first bright spot in the whole God-blessed day.
But, unless he’d brought Ridge and some others, they were severely outnumbered.
* * *
Nora and Sawyer crouched, sharing the slicker Tally had insisted she bring. They’d dismounted when the rain started and sought protection under a rocky ledge.
Sawyer shivered. “Do you think the rain will stop soon?”
Lord, she hoped so.
“Oh, sure. I think I see blue sky in the distance. How much farther to that place we’re going?”
“We haven’t passed the lightning tree yet. Or the big rocks piled up at the turn.”
“What’s the lightning tree?”
“It’s an oak tree that’s all black and scarred from being struck by lightning.”
That made sense. She tightened her arms around the kid. “How far from the pile of rocks to the turn?”
“Pretty close.” Sawyer snuggled against her. “Miss Nora, are you glad you found me?”
“I’m very happy that we took you from Bittercreek. Why?”
“Some people don’t like kids much.”
“Well, I do. Jack and I want at least half a dozen.” She hoped anyway. Strange that they hadn’t discussed that over the days they’d spent running.
“And Willow. Do you want her?”
His sad voice brought tears to her eyes. He seemed worried that she and Jack would leave him and Willow on their own. “I’ll dare anyone to try to take you or Willow away from us.” She meant the bold statement with every fiber of her being. “We love you both, and we want to care for you. You’ve been through a lot, but try to believe that we’ll never leave you to make your own way.” She kissed his forehead. “Unless that’s what you want.”
“No, I never want to be alone.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”
Sawyer sighed. “I like it when you call me that. Makes me think of Mama.”
“I’m glad.”
“What time it is?”
“I’d say it’s early afternoon. We’ve been here for hours.” They’d slept for a good while. It was probably past noon.
The rain slowed and, not long after, stopped
completely. The sun tried to come out but never could break through the clouds. They got back on the horse and pretty soon came to the lightning tree.
Sawyer grinned. “The rocks at the turn aren’t very far from here.”
“Good.” Hope rose that she’d be with Jack soon, see his face, his crooked smile, feel his arms close around her. She wasn’t cut out to be alone any more than Sawyer was.
Anticipation beating in her heart, they rode to the rocks and made the turn east. They’d almost reached the hideout when riders closed around them. She recognized Ridge, Luke, and Clay.
“Afternoon, Miz Nora.” Clay pushed back his hat. “Mind if I ask what you and the boy are doing here?”
“We’ve come to find Jack. Couldn’t bear to wait back in Hope’s Crossing. He needs my help.”
“Jack needs us.” Sawyer jutted out his chin defiantly.
The saddle leather creaked as Luke Legend shifted his weight and leaned his arm on the pommel. “He’s in a mess all right, señora. The posse has him.”
Nora sucked in a quick breath, a vise gripping her chest.
“We’re trying to devise a plan now to bust him loose.” Clay reached into his pocket and pulled out a sack of Bull Durham and proceeded to roll a cigarette. “They’re camped just over that ridge. But it’s too dangerous for you and the boy. Go home and wait.”
“Respectfully, I can’t do that, Mr. Colby. I’m his wife, and we face everything together.” They’d be sorely mistaken if they thought she’d leave. She was quiet a second, wrestling with frightening thoughts that lodged in her brain. “How bad a shape is he in?” she asked quietly.
“Not the best, but he’ll manage,” Ridge answered. “They chained him to a wagon wheel. He’s bloody and shivering. Please go home, Miss Nora.”
“Sawyer and I will go home when Jack is free.” Sawyer’s arms slid around Nora from his seat behind her, and she gave him a reassuring pat. The horse danced, apparently anxious to also move on. “That’s that. Now, how do we rescue him? How is he chained?”
“With manacles.” Clay lit his cigarette and waved out the match. “One handcuff is attached to Jack and the other end to a wagon spoke.”
“In other words, you need the key.”
“Yes, ma’am. Either that or plan an ambush at some spot along the way, which could get us and Jack killed.” Clay blew out a smoke ring. “I overheard the marshals saying they’d head out in the morning for Saint’s Roost.”
One line of her wedding vows came to mind. If you get arrested again, I’ll search for a key until I find one.
Did she mean those vows or not? Jack was cold and drenched and hurting. They needed to free him tonight. But how would she get the key?
Sawyer jumped from the horse. “We could pick the lock. Wouldn’t need a key. Bittercreek taught me how to pick certain ones.”
“No, sweetheart.” Nora dismounted and placed a palm against his face. “Not this time. It’s too dangerous.”
The memory of her and Jack trying to get unhooked flashed into Nora’s thoughts. That was it. Maybe.
“Are all manacles alike? Do you think they’re using the same kind Jack and I were attached with when we…ah…left the wrecked stagecoach?” Nora felt a flush rising. She hadn’t meant to tell anyone about being handcuffed to Jack and how that had come to pass. But she had to convince them to let her try.
Luke’s dark eyes sharpened, apparently catching wind that there was more to the tale, and his mouth twitched. “You and Jack were handcuffed together?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Bet it’s a humdinger.” Clay drew on the cigarette, making the end glow red.
“I’d like to have seen how that worked.” Ridge wiped a grin from his face. “But yes, they could be the same ones. They’re all pretty much alike.”
“Then I know how to unlock them.” One problem though, she didn’t have any pins in her hair this time. “If you gentlemen can find me a hairpin.”
The trio glanced at each other and laughed.
“I know. A hairpin never works.” She watched their laughter fade.
“Jack must’ve told you,” Ridge said.
“Matter of fact, he did.” Of all times to wear her hair down. But she’d left in a hurry.
“Un momento.” A smile curved Luke’s mouth. “I might have one of Josie’s in my saddlebag. I seem to recall picking one up that she dropped the other day.” He dismounted and began his search, the silver conchas on his trousers flashing. Those glittering orbs would sure be difficult to hide.
Nora waited, planning. After dark, she could sneak under the wagon with Jack and set to work.
Then what a surprise would await the marshals at daybreak. Let them find someone else to arrest. They weren’t getting Jack as long as she drew breath.
Luke came up with a hairpin and they all mounted up.
Nora and Sawyer rode with the hard men who’d fought to live free in this harsh land. She felt safe—except from her own thoughts that refused to keep quiet.
What if Jack died at the posse’s hands? What would she do? Where would she go?
Flynn O’Brien’s wealth and reach was vast. He wouldn’t stop until he found her and got his book back. And now that she had Sawyer and Willow to look after, she wouldn’t have the freedom to run that she’d had before. The stakes were definitely higher now.
She quaked inside to think about crawling into that camp with a dozen members of the posse on guard, and each an expert shot…she was sure. Still, if Jack was there, that’s where Nora wanted—no, had—to be.
Besides, she’d vowed to free him if he needed her. The moonlight had been so bright, and Jack’s kisses, his arms around her, had made her feel like the most beautiful and the most desired woman in the whole world.
A few miles across the rugged country, they stopped and tied their horses up, going the rest of the way on foot. When they topped the ridge, no campfire burned. Had the marshals extinguished it?
Was this a trap? Needles of worry crawled up her spine and neck. She couldn’t breathe.
“Stay here, Miz Nora,” Clay Colby whispered. “Let us see what’s going on.”
She put an arm around Sawyer and watched Jack’s friends inch toward the camp, saying a prayer for their safety. The shadows swallowed them.
Time passed very slowly, and the longer it went, the more nervous she became. Had the posse caught them? How many would she have to free? She only had one delicate hairpin.
At last, a voice called out to her, and the trio reappeared, their faces grim.
Nora grabbed Luke Legend’s arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Jack’s gone.” Luke huffed out a breath. “Gone.”
Twenty-one
How could Jack be gone? What was Luke saying?
Nora bit back a sob. “Gone how? Dead?”
The man rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. “We don’t know. The posse packed up camp and there’s nothing down there now. They might’ve taken Jack with them. Or…”
“Or they killed him,” Nora choked out. “We didn’t hear a gunshot, but they had other ways of taking a man’s life.” She hated asking the question but she had to know. “Did you look in the trees?”
Sawyer broke free of her. “Did they hang Jack? Did they? We gotta find him.”
“We’ll have to wait for daylight, son.” Clay draped an arm across his shoulder. “Don’t think the worst or it’ll eat you alive.”
Ridge met Nora’s searching gaze. “They could’ve gotten wind of us and decided to head into Saint’s Roost early to put Jack behind sturdy bars. They probably didn’t want to fight with us. Who knows? Jack’s taunted them for too many years. Catching him was a real feather in their cap.”
“We have to find him.” Nora stalked to her horse. “He may be dead or dying.” She untied the reins, put her hand on th
e pommel, and a foot in the stirrup.
Clay’s large hand covered hers. “No. We wait until morning. If Jack’s there, we’ll find him, and the ground will run red with their blood. I promise you that.” The rage coloring his words shocked Nora, yet she knew he meant everything he said. Something told her he’d delivered on those promises in the past with others, and she pitied anyone who stood in his way. “Also, they might’ve laid a trap for us. We’ll find out come daylight.”
Anger swept over her. “I have no say in the matter?”
“Not this time. You don’t know this country and you could wander out here for months.”
That was true. “Darn you for being right.” She rested her forehead against the saddle’s worn leather, feeling a hundred years old.
Luke laid a hand on her shoulder, then pulled her close. “A storm always leaves the darkest, scariest shadows, but it’s only for a little while. We’ll get to Jack, and I vow on my mother’s grave that I’ll not stop until he’s back home with you.”
His voice trembled with the fervent pledge, and Nora realized just how deep and unshakable this bond between these men and Jack must be. They were truly brothers.
She raised her head and met Clay’s gaze. “For the first time since my parents went to glory, I feel like I have family. You and Tally, Ridge, and Luke, are my people.” She took his hand. “I belong here.”
Luke strode to them. “Yes, you do. We’re going to take care of you, Miss Nora.”
* * *
Dawn found them at the posse’s campsite, and it appeared the marshals had left in a hurry. Jack was not hanging in the trees. Nor was there a fresh grave. Nora took her first deep breath since learning of the abandoned campsite.
Sawyer pressed close to her side. “We’ve gotta find him, Nora.”
“We will, sweetheart.”
Luke, Clay, and Ridge scoured the area, looking for signs.
Clay straightened. “Tracks lead toward Saint’s Roost, Nora. They must’ve had a premonition that we were close and hurried him behind bars.”
Not that bars would hold a man like Jack Bowdre. She strode to her horse. “Let’s ride.”
