At Tanner’s motion, McLowry’s wrist flicked toward his gun and in a single action slid it free. Tanner’s shot hit him in the side, knocking him backward to the ground and causing his return fire to miss its mark and hit Tanner’s leg.
Gabe froze until she saw that Jess wasn’t badly hurt. As he scrambled behind a corral post, she ran into the stables.
Tanner rolled behind the water barrel where she had just been hiding, and pulled the trigger again. His shot ricocheted off the corral post.
McLowry forced himself to his feet, fighting off pain and shock. Bracing his shoulder against the skinny post, he took aim, waiting for Tanner to show.
Tanner’s gun slowly began to move forward along the side of the water barrel. Soon Tanner’s hand would show, then his arm, then an eye as he took aim. That was when Jess would shoot. That was when he’d be forced to kill his own brother.
A shot rang out. Tanner’s gun flew from his hand. He gripped his wrist, his hand a blood-soaked mass of torn flesh. He stared at it a moment, then doubled over in pain.
"Drop your gun, Jess," Gabe ordered, her voice fierce, "or I swear I’ll do the same to you!"
"Keep out of this Gabe," Jess yelled, stumbling forward, his gun still pointed at Tanner, while his free hand pressed hard against the blood-soaked bullet wound on his side just above his waist.
"I won’t let you kill him."
"He’s no good. He deserves to die."
"He’s your brother!"
"Not anymore."
She stepped forward, her rifle stock against her shoulder, ready to do whatever it took to stop them both. "There’s been enough killing. You realized it long ago, Jess. And you've helped me to realize it, too. We’ll turn him over to the law in Tucson."
"Your revenge can end here, Gabe," Jess said, his voice cold. His face was pale and he blinked hard. "Here, where it all began."
"I want justice, and I’ll have it. But more important to me, Jess, is you. What you’re ready to do to him, for me, would destroy you."
"I’m doing it for me, too, for us, and for the child we would have had."
"It’s too much."
He cocked his gun. "No. It’s not nearly enough."
"I understand, Jess. Believe me, I do," she cried. "But that’s not the way. We’ll stop off quick at the doctor in Jackson City to tend your wounds and Tanner’s. The doctor’s a good man. He’ll keep it from the sheriff if we tell him what we suspect. From there we’ll go straight to Tucson and the law. We will see justice done."
Jess took a deep breath, then nodded.
"Are you strong enough to keep that gun on him while I get rope to tie him?" she asked. "I don’t want you passing out on me, Jess McLowry."
"Go," he said.
As she headed toward the barn, McLowry kept his gun trained on Tanner.
Tanner pulled himself up to a sitting position, his back against the water barrel, his bleeding hand cradled against his stomach and his wounded leg stretched out straight. His face was twisted with pain, his breathing ragged. "Pull the trigger, Jess-boy. You aren’t going to let some little woman boss you around, are you?"
Jess-boy...
Jess’s head swam, his ears painful with a strong buzz as Tanner’s sneering face turned hazy. His thoughts swirled back, twenty years or more, to a time before the war, before the killing. To the time when he’d been so proud of his much older big brother he could barely stop from popping the buttons on his shirt front...
Jess blinked hard, trying to clear his head. "If you’re so ready to die, Will, just make one move for that gun I know you have hidden in your boot. Or the one at your back. That’s all it’ll take, just one little move."
Will grimaced. "I’m not that brave, Jess-boy. Despite all, I’ve done. That’s a hoot, isn’t it, baby brother?"
Gabe came out with the rope. Jess told her where to find the extra guns and knives Tanner carried and remove them. She tied him tight, several times over to make sure, then they lifted him onto the buckboard.
Chapter 32
A month passed after their trip to Tucson. A month during which Will Tanner was hanged for murder.
Now, Gabe stood on her porch, her arms folded. The trip from the doctor’s house on the outskirts of Jackson, to the U.S. Marshal’s in Tucson had been a descent into hell. Tanner had chided them both continuously, his words vile and his innuendos ugly. But even worse than Tanner’s lies had been Jess’s silence.
Her chest had ached with unshed tears for him. She had been unable to think of any words or condolences that didn’t sound trite. He was going to turn his brother over to the law, and they all knew what the outcome of that action would be. Tanner was everything evil, but he was Jess’s only living relative.
The torment he felt must have been all but unbearable.
They delivered Tanner to the marshal, and told him enough about the sheriff in Jackson City that he would be arresting the man as well. When the ordeal was over, Jess had simply walked away from her without a word. Well, perhaps that hadn’t been exactly true...
An unspoken word had passed between them. It was good-bye.
She had returned to her ranch alone. Alone, over the long summer days, she had watched the monsoon rains sweep the desert, rains that washed the land fresh and clean and gave new life to plants and animals.
They were strong, these desert plants. They seemed hard and craggy, thorny and ugly, but they held onto life with a tenaciousness that was glorious, and when given bounty, they drank deeply, saving their life force for a time when living was difficult again, and simply surviving from one day to the next seemed impossible.
Whatever bounty Gabe may have been given was gone now. She could sustain herself no longer. Inside the house earlier, she had tried to pack a few clothes, but she couldn’t seem to decide which to bring and which to leave behind. Out on the porch she hoped to clear her head.
She had made plans to go to Denver, to visit Chad, and to give some thought to living there. Manolo and Kaiya could take care of the ranch while she was gone, while she was deciding whether to return, or to sell. Chad had told her the Rocky Mountains were quite beautiful, and that the snows, when they came, were so cold and so deep they didn’t seem real. He assured her she’d love them.
She doubted it.
She turned to go back indoors, but she’d only reached the doorframe when she pressed her forehead to it. She didn’t want to leave, but staying, remembering, was so very hard.
The sound of approaching hoof beats made her turn and straighten her spine, her head high. As she squinted hard against the bright sun at the figure on horseback, her heart began to beat faster. The flat-crowned hat, the long, lazy way he sat in the saddle...
She put her hand to her chest, then slowly began to move forward. Tears filled her eyes. Then she was running down the front steps and across the yard, running to him. Her tears, unshed for so long, now fell.
Jess dismounted.
She hesitated for just a moment, unsure of why he was here, but unable to find the words to ask him.
"Gabe." He took a step toward her and lifted his arms. She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around him, just as his tightened around her. Her gentle tears turned then to heavy sobs, filling her, wracking her, and she didn’t know why. At this moment, all that mattered was that he was with her once more. At this moment, she could touch him, feel him, hold him. She had no doubt that he would leave again, but right now, he was here. Tears of thanks, joy, and loss poured from her eyes.
‘What’s all this?" he murmured, running a thumb over her wet cheeks. "Are you so unhappy to see me?"
She shook her head, unable to talk, unable to do anything but bury her face against his shoulder and let fall all the tears she had kept within her for so long.
"Finally," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead as he held her close and guided her toward the shelter of the house.
They sat on the porch and he patiently held her as she let go of the grief she�
�d bottled up. She didn’t know where so many tears came from, didn’t know how she had held them inside.
After a while she pulled back and lifted her gaze to his. "I’m so sorry--"
"Hush." He took off his bandanna and used it to wipe her nose and eyes. His gentleness made her cry again.
Her fingers lightly touched the front of his shirt. "It’s all wet."
"Yes."
She could see an unreadable glint in his eye. She was being foolish again. "I don’t know what came over me."
"It’s all right," he said as he eased her head against his shoulder once more.
She wanted to ask why he was here, but afraid of the answer. Instead she sat quietly in the comfort of his arms and wished this moment could last forever.
After a while, he spoke. "You’re not at the celebration."
"Celebration?" For a moment she couldn’t think of what he was referring to. "Oh, the Jackson City anniversary. I stopped going to them."
"Never know who you’ll meet there, right?" he said.
She remembered the festivities so many years ago where they’d met. "Some real ornery cowboys show up now and then, that’s for sure." A stray tear trickled from the corner of her eye and she wiped it away.
"Would you come with me to the dance tonight?"
She lifted her head. "You’re just playing with me," she said, her voice husky as she repeated her words of an eternity ago.
He gave her that funny lop-sided grin of his. "Not likely."
"I..." Her heart skittered. Still, his request made no sense. She looked down at her denim trousers and man’s shirt. "I’ll have to change."
"You’ve got a red skirt that’s mighty pretty on you, Miss Gabriella."
She tried to smile, put a hand on her hip and said saucily. "Did I ever tell you what I did to the last man who called me that?"
"I heard tell he was hanged."
The smile vanished from her face and her eyes teared up once more. "God, Jess..."
"It’s all right," he said softly. "Some things can’t be helped, and some people, when they get broken, can’t be made right again. I knew what the end would be for Will; I just didn’t know when. Now, go get dressed."
She hurried into the bedroom, trying to stop her tears, but failing miserably. She didn’t understand why he had asked her to go to the dance--it was the last place on earth she felt like going to right now. Still, to be with Jess, she’d go through hell if he asked her.
But then, why should he? They’d already been there.
o0o
At the town dance, Gabe couldn’t pull her gaze away from Jess. As he walked her around the reception area, he talked to the people of the town, greeting them like old friends, turning on the full power of his Southern charm, and acting so sociable and gracious with them, Gabe was astounded. When even Cozette Beale smiled at him, and invited him to join Gabe at her house one day for tea, Gabe nearly fell over in a dead faint.
She noticed a slight pallor under the skin of his cheeks and a darkening under his eyes, both traces of how sick he’d been from the bullet wound he’d suffered from Tanner. But she also saw the strong brow, the soft blue eyes, even the down-turned golden mustache she’d fallen in love with long ago, and loved even more now. The need to tell him how she felt was a physical ache, but she held back and looked away. She knew that the past lay too heavy between them to ever be overcome: too much pain; too much heartache.
As if he could feel her scrutiny, he turned toward her. "Let’s step away from the dance area for a while," he suggested, and held out his hand.
She took it. They walked out beyond the festivities to a quiet spot on the edge of the desert. Lanterns had been strung from the trees, casting a soft glow over the area. He faced her.
"I want to know how you’re doing, Gabe. How you’re feeling. Your revenge--it’s finally over." His voice was soft, his beautiful, slow drawl like music to her.
"It is, yes. And I should be happy." Her words were hushed. "But when I think of all we’ve lost, Jess, I don’t know if it was worth it."
"There’s always a price, even for justice. And sometimes it’s necessary to pay it."
Their eyes met and she saw his understanding. "Thank you," she whispered.
"You’ve turned into a mighty fine woman, Gabe. Your father would be proud. You’ve learned not only to fight for what’s yours, but also to show compassion. You’ve got strength and purpose. It seems...you’ve got everything."
"I don’t think so," she said wryly.
"Your tears--they mean you’re healing."
She folded her arms, and studied the ground before speaking. "There are things I can’t change. I know that now. Someday I might even learn to accept them." An ache of loneliness washed over her, but she fought it. To survive, to be alone...she’d learned those lessons well. She slowly walked away from him and faced the desert. The moon hung low in the sky and the moonlit shadows were long. She gazed into the night a long while before speaking. "It’s been a hard lesson."
"Things like what happened to your father and Henry, and Chad’s legs."
"Yes. And more," she said softly, turning toward him again.
"You’ve done a fine job with your ranch, Gabe. That time I spent there with you, it reminded me of when I was a boy in South Carolina before the War. I remembered the warmth and love of my home and family, the smell of new-turned earth at planting time, of fresh hay when we filled the barns with it. The proud feeling of working for my own home and land. You made me think about that, Gabe. You made me realize what I’ve missed all these years."
Having faced nothing but disappointment for so long, she was afraid to hear anymore. Her body trembled with the effort of holding back, of not allowing herself to do or say whatever it took not to hear what she knew was coming--that despite his feelings, he was leaving her again. "Your words warm my heart, Jess, but I know there’s too much in our past to forget. I only hope that somewhere you’ll find what you seek."
"Could be."
Her heart fell and she wanted to scream against the injustice of it all. "I guess you’ll leave again soon," she said.
"Sometimes, Gabe, a man gets tired of going away." He seemed to search her face. "Sometimes a man’s got to take a stand and say ‘this place, this land, is where I want to be.’"
A churning hope built in her, but she clenched her hands tight against it, her nails digging deep grooves in her palms. "When the past no longer intrudes--" She clamped her mouth shut, then bent her head downward.
Gently, he placed his hand on her chin and lifted her gaze to his. "A man might want to stop running because he meets a woman he can’t get out of his mind." He took a deep breath. "When it’s real quiet, he’ll hear her laughter in the light rustle of the mesquite, or see her face reflected in the still water of a boxed canyon pond, or smell her spicy scent on the winds before a summer rain. A man would want to make a home for that woman, to share his life with her, to be with her when she needs him...to father her children. He could go on without her--and sometimes he’d be fool enough to try--but he’d only be half alive."
True hope began to grow, filling her and closing her throat to any reply.
"It’s up to you," he said. "I want to stay...if you’ll have me...if you’ll be my wife. I love you, Gabriella."
The beautiful way he said her name drew her back to the early, happy time when she first met him, when people she loved surrounded her. But instead of the overwhelming sorrow and despair that usually accompanied her memory of those times, a simple peace warmed her. She felt the familiar presence of Pa and Henry, reminding her of the happy hours and memories she held close to her heart. Then, slowly, the feeling passed, as if her father and brother had come to say one last good-bye, as if now, they, too, could rest.
Her eyes searched Jess’s. Had he, too, felt their presence? But the look he gave her was purely of this world. It was purely love. "Jess," she whispered as, slowly, a broad, from-the-heart kind of smile spread over her face
, filling her whole being in a burst of sunshine. "You are home."
For the first time since a simple town dance, he saw again the smile he’d carried with him all those years. A tide of emotion filled his heart, threatening to burst and overflow. The music began, a waltz. He held out his hand to her. "Might I have the pleasure of this dance?"
The sweet sound of his voice echoed back to the night they first met. Unable to say all the words that filled her heart, she put her hand in his, and walked beside him onto the dance floor.
o0o
Silhouetted against a red desert sunset, a half-grown coyote named Thorn howled at the moon, then trotted right past the chicken coop and up to Gabe’s front porch. He sniffed the air, then curled into a ball and lay down, waiting for her to come home. He had no doubt he’d be welcomed once more.
-The End-
About the Author
JoMarie Lodge was born and raised in northern California. She has been an award-winning, USA Today best-selling author of other books in other genres using other names...but she now returns to her first love--romance. Her books bring you a variety of times, places, and reading experiences, from emotional contemporaries to lightly humorous contemporaries to romantic suspense as well as powerful tales of the Old West and San Francisco at the time of the Great Earthquake and Fire of 1906. The Kindle editions are all either new or completely revised editions of previously published works. http://www.jomarielodge.com.
The Ghost of Squire House
A Love that Transcends Time
When a lonely young woman inherits an old, empty Victorian house in an isolated town on northern California’s Mendocino coast, the house may not be as completely unoccupied as she believes. For everyone who loved the classic, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, a story of love, and time, and chance…
Seems Like Old Times
Can A Person Ever Truly Go Home Again?
When Lee Reynolds, nationally known television news anchor, returns to the small town where she was born to sell her now-vacant childhood home, little does she expect to find that her first love has moved back to town. Nor does she expect that her feelings for him are still so strong.
Dance With A Gunfighter Page 31
