Cowboy on My Mind

by R. C. Ryan

  Will’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Listen to him. She’s the innocent party in all this.”

  “Innocent? Even if you’re telling me the truth, and she’s your woman, Cop, that makes her my enemy as much as you are. A cop’s woman doesn’t deserve to live any more than a cop does.”

  “Not all cops are bad.”

  “Oh yeah?” He pointed his gun at Ben’s hand holding the pistol. “Look at you. Big man with a gun. If I kill your woman, I’m a scumbag. If you kill me, you’re a hero. The only difference between us is that shiny tin badge. A badge that says you’re allowed to kill without blame. You’re all alike. You know if you kill someone like me, all the local yokels will be patting you on the back.” His voice rose in fury as he waved his pistol in the air. “Look at them. They all want me dead.”

  Outside the fence, the murmur of the crowd grew to a roar.

  “And what do you want, Ranaldo?”

  The gunman was caught completely by surprise at the question. After a moment he shouted, “I want the preacher to pay for what he did to me. He took away my woman and my kids.”

  Ben turned to Will. “You’re a distraction I can’t afford. I want you to step away from the fence. Now.”

  “If I move, he’ll kill me.”

  “He doesn’t want you dead. He wants you to suffer by watching helplessly from the sidelines. You have to trust me on this, Will. Move away.”

  The fierce look in Ben’s eyes had Will acquiescing without an argument. He stepped back and was instantly swallowed up by the crowd.

  Ben kept his tone low and easy, with no hint of the range of emotions roiling through him as he turned back to the gunman. One wrong word, one wrong move, could mean the difference between life and death for the woman he loved. “I know you’re angry because Mercy won’t let you see your son.”

  “My son has a name. Hunter. His name is Hunter. And he’s my kid. Mine. Not just hers. Now she’s decided I won’t ever see our baby girl after she’s born, either.”

  “Have you thought of a name for your baby girl?”

  This line of questioning was a sudden distraction, and the gunman could be seen struggling to mentally switch gears. “Angela. I wanted to name her Angela. It means little angel.”

  “That’s pretty. I like it. What does Mercy think of the name Angela?”

  The gunman’s eyes narrowed. “You’re just trying to keep me talking while you figure out how to get what you really want.”

  “And what do I want?”

  “I know how you guys work. You want to keep me from doing what I came here to do while you get a bunch of sharpshooters lined up to take me down.”

  “Then use me as your shield. Let the woman go and take me instead. They won’t shoot at one of their own.”

  The gunman’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he gave it more thought. “Another trick. You think if I let her go, you can overpower me. Look at you. Big, muscle-bound cop. You’re just waiting for your chance to kill me.”

  Ben took a step closer, keeping his gaze steady on the gunman’s. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be lying on the ground.”

  “Not while I use your woman as a shield.”

  “Is that what you think?” Ben managed a grim smile. “I think you should know, I’m a crack shot. If I aim at something, or someone, I never miss. Right now, you’re a head taller than the woman in your arms. If I’d wanted to, I could have put a bullet between your eyes before you had time to blink.”

  The last of the crowd that had gathered for the race and festivities had now heard about the drama and milled around the fence, doubling the size of onlookers. At Ben’s words, some in the crowd gasped, while others began spoiling for a gunfight.

  “Come on, Monroe. Do what a lawman’s supposed to do.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Tough Guy. Let’s see you take out this punk.”

  “Quit all your talking. I know what I’d do if someone threatened my girlfriend.”

  “The best way to treat a scumbag is to shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Hearing them, Ben realized that all this attention from the bystanders was adding to the gunman’s already out-of-control temper. Ranaldo was twitching with nerves, like a puppet on a string. Ben knew if he didn’t act quickly, it could cause this city thug, lost and far from his comfort zone, to do the unforgivable.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw the sheriff motioning for the crowd to move away, while taking up a position to back up his deputy with a rifle.

  Since Ranaldo Rider was considered armed and dangerous, his job was to take out the shooter whenever he had a clear sight to the target.

  “Listen to me, Ranaldo.” Ben kept his voice low, persuasive. “Let the woman go. If you do, I give you my word I’ll drop my weapon.”

  “Liar! You’re just like all the rest. Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I don’t want you to die. I want you to live.”

  “Why?”

  “I know some things about you, Ranaldo. One shot and your son, Hunter, and your unborn baby, Angela, will be forever without their father. Is that how you grew up?”

  The gunman blinked hard, and Ben knew he’d found his weakness. “One shot and Mercy will be forever denied the comfort of the man she loves.”

  “If she loves me, why is she listening to some fancy-talking, backwoods preacher?”

  “She wants to do the right thing. Not only for herself and her children, but also for you. Because she loves you, Ranaldo.”

  “Love.” He spat the word.

  “Yes, love. The way you love Hunter. Think about this. Without a father, Hunter and his baby sister will be alone in a hard, cruel world.”

  Ben allowed himself to look at Rebecca, blood oozing from the cut at her temple. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. Shock. She’d been dealt a severe blow and was suffering the effects of it.

  His heart took a hard, heavy bounce. “Please let the woman go, Ranaldo.”

  “Please? Now you’re asking pretty please?” The shooter’s voice went up a notch, with a sudden sense of power. “Maybe I’ll ask you to crawl on your belly like a snake and beg in front of the hometown crowd. Would you do that, Cop?”

  Ben nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to release the woman.”

  “I’d love to see that, Cop. But why should I bother releasing her? She’s my guarantee I walk out of here.”

  “You harm her, you won’t live to walk again.” Ben kept his tone low and even. “I know you don’t want to trust a man wearing a badge. So, to prove to you that I’m not interested in using my badge to kill you…” So carefully that it seemed to be happening in slow motion, Ben set his pistol on the log table beside him.

  There were moans and cries from the crowd, now herded to a safe distance away. The onlookers, eager for blood, were hoping for a fierce fight, either with guns or at least with fists. After all, Ben Monroe was the town’s toughest citizen. A brawler. A known street fighter. If anybody could put on a hell of a show, it was Ben.

  Ben struggled to drown out the distraction of the crowd.

  His voice was firm, with no hint of the nerves bubbling just beneath the surface. “All right, Ranaldo. There’s my weapon. It’s proof that I trust you to do the right thing. Release the woman.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Sam and Finn needed no words between them to know what they had to do.

  While Finn raced back to the ranch truck to retrieve their weapons, Finn made his way to the hardware store and began exploring rooms until he found what he was looking for.

  Minutes later he texted Sam and the two climbed out an upper window and made their way across the roof until they had a clear view of the scene below.

  They stood, side by side, rifles aimed and ready.

  From the time they were boys, they’d always had one another’s backs. This time was no different. Ben was in trouble. They had to be here for him.

  When Ben set aside his pistol, a murmur of di
sbelief ran through the crowd. Their thirst for a gunfight had taken over their reasoning. The more agitated they became, the louder grew the words, until they were practically begging for the chance to witness a bloody shoot-out.

  Hank Henderson spotted Sheriff Kerr taking aim with his rifle and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, his voice raised in absolute terror. “Tell that cowardly hell-raiser to pick up his gun and do what he’s paid to do.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Hank, that’s what Ben is doing.”

  “He just set down his gun. While he plays some sort of Wild West poker game out there, he’s risking Rebecca’s life.”

  “Take another look. He’s risking his own life, too.” Virgil Kerr pried Hank’s hands from his shirtfront and gave him a shove backward.

  The sheriff turned to Susan Henderson with a stern look. “Keep your husband quiet, or I’ll have him hauled to jail. Do you understand?”

  She nodded before wrapping her arms around her husband, who looked for all the world like a man ready to suffer a complete breakdown.

  Virgil had to shout to be heard above the chorus of angry voices. “The rest of you will stop the noise this minute, or I’ll have the lot of you arrested. I want absolute quiet. Step back and be respectful of all that’s happening here. This isn’t a TV show. This is real life, and lives hang in the balance. Do you understand me?”

  At the sheriff’s threats, the crowd fell back to a safe distance, silent and watchful.

  The sudden silence carried its own distraction, causing the gunman to glance uneasily at the audience he’d attracted. For long moments he continued holding Rebecca as a shield while he studied the distance between Ben and his gun.

  “I don’t trust you, Cop.” He waved his gun. “Give me one reason why I should trust you.”

  Sensing that Renaldo could be wavering, Ben decided to push harder. “When you say you love Mercy and Hunter and Angela, do you mean it?”

  The gunman’s voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t you dare call me a liar, Cop. The only reason I’m here is because I love them.”

  “Then think what you’re doing. Think what their lives will be like if you go through with your plans to kill a police officer or your hostage. You’ll be dead, or doing hard time. Either way, Mercy will be forced to move on with her life, and your children will never know their father. Now think about those so-called friends of yours. Have you ever crossed any of them? Or made them mad enough to want revenge? Which of them will try to move in and make Mercy his woman?”

  Seeing Ranaldo’s stunned reaction to his words he pressed on. “Will he be tender to her? Or abusive? What kind of stepfather will he be to Hunter and Angela? Will he ignore them? Mistreat them? Worse, will he have them running with a gang by the time they’re barely in their teens?”

  “Shut up, Cop. Just shut up.”

  “You need to face the truth, Ranaldo. Or are you afraid of it?”

  The gunman waved his pistol wildly. “I’m not scared of anything. Here’s the truth. The preacher will still suffer, whether I kill the woman or you, Cop. He’ll spend the rest of his life knowing he was the cause of someone dying.”

  “Nice try, Ranaldo. That may be your version of the truth, but here’s the facts. We make choices in life, and then we have to live with them. Nobody made you do this. At least, if you’re bound and determined to have your revenge on a well-meaning preacher, release the woman. She’s done nothing to you. She’s the innocent victim in all of this.”

  “I don’t care who’s innocent. And you’re right. I’ll make the choice. And I’ve decided I want both of you.” With a savage oath, the gunman pressed his gun to Rebecca’s temple.

  Rebecca’s reaction was completely unexpected. Though she’d appeared helpless, she jammed both elbows into the gunman’s midsection. Caught by surprise, he loosened his grip on her just enough that she managed to drop to the ground, giving Ben the opportunity to retrieve his pistol and fire off a shot, aiming for the gunman’s leg.

  With a string of oaths Ranaldo dropped to the ground, blood pouring from the bullet wound, costing him precious seconds before he could take aim. It was all the time Ben needed to fire off a second shot, hitting the gunman squarely in the shoulder. The sound of the gunfire reverberated in the air, causing many in the crowd to flinch and drop to the ground in terror.

  At almost the same moment, the gunman’s shot resonated, and though Ben tried to evade, blood spurted from his side. The force of the bullet had him stumbling to his knees before he was able to regain his footing and close the distance between them. Once there, he managed to kick the gun from Ranaldo’s hand before the gunman could fire off another shot.

  Weak as a kitten, Rebecca pushed herself to her knees.

  Seeing her, bloody, disoriented, Ben allowed himself one brief moment to gather her close. He could feel the tremors rocketing through her slender body, and his heart ached for her. “Oh, baby, he hurt you. You okay?”

  “Yes.” Her lips were trembling.

  “Run.” He released her, turning her toward the gate. “Get away from here now while you can.”

  She shocked him by clutching his arm. “You’ve been shot.”

  He gave a surprised glance at the blood streaming from his side. In the heat of the moment he’d been able to ignore the pain. Now he could see the extent of his wound.

  “I’m not leaving without you, Ben.”

  His voice roughened with alarm. “Becca, this could all go wrong in an instant. It’s important for me to know you’re safe.”

  “And I want the same for you, Ben.” She took in a deep breath. “I know I don’t have your courage. But I’m not going anywhere unless you do.” She gripped his arm tighter. “We’re in this together.”

  Hearing her, Ranaldo began rummaging around in the dirt before his fingers closed around his gun.

  He took aim. “That’s real tender, Cop. Now what’re you going to do?”

  At Ranaldo’s words, Ben stepped in front of Rebecca to shield her. “Just drop your weapon, and this can all end peacefully, Ranaldo.”

  “I know every trick a cop can try. I’ve got my gun; you’ve got yours. I guess we’ll just have to see who’s a better shot.”

  “This isn’t a game. I give you my word, Ranaldo. You put down that gun, you’ll live, and be able to see the birth of little Angela.”

  That had the gunman going very still. “Why are you doing this? You told me you were a crack shot. You could have killed me with your first shot.”

  “I told you the truth. I don’t want you to die.”

  “Even after I hurt your woman? Why?”

  Ben sighed. “Because I’ve been where you are. I’ve been mad at the world and willing to hurt anybody who got in my way. And I was where your kids will end up, if you don’t surrender.” Ben struggled to clear his vision. The pain was growing intense, threatening to take him down. “Let’s just say I believe in second chances.”

  The gunman fell silent.

  Ben studied Ranaldo’s hand, still clutching the pistol. “Since you told me your son’s name, you should know that the woman you held hostage is Rebecca. Her parents are over there, waiting to hold her, the way you want to hold Hunter.”

  At the mention of his son, the gunman ever so slowly lowered his gun a fraction.

  Rebecca continued clinging fiercely to Ben.

  Ben pressed a kiss to her temple. “Go now, while you have the chance.”

  She shook her head, while tears flowed down her cheeks, mingling with the dirt and blood. “I told you. I’m not leaving you. We leave here together. Or we don’t leave at all.”

  Ben turned to the gunman. “See how our women listen to us?”

  Seeing the slight curve of the gunman’s lips in the faintest hint of a smile, he added, “Good women are like that. Loyal. Stubborn. They turn into fierce wounded bears when they see the ones they love heading down the wrong path. That’s why your Mercy dug in her heels. It wasn’t about punishing you. It was
about wanting you to choose the right path.”

  He took in a slow breath, forcing himself to keep his tone low and even, so his words didn’t come across as a stern command. If he didn’t end this soon, he would probably fall on his face. “Now, Ranaldo, you need to hand over that weapon so your good woman can see you again.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You won’t get a second chance to do it right.” He nodded with his head and Ranaldo followed the direction of his gaze and caught a glimpse of the two armed men standing on the roof.

  “Those two are my brothers. They’ll shoot before you can pull that trigger.” Ben held out his hand. “Be smart, Ranaldo.”

  For long, strained moments the two men remained mere feet apart and the crowd went deathly silent, barely able to breathe as they watched the drama unfold.

  Without a word the gunman tossed his weapon aside.

  Ben moved closer and tucked the pistol in his waistband before kneeling in front of the gunman.

  Ranaldo’s attention was captured by the small cluster of men pushing their way inside the fence. “Who are those weirdoes?”

  Ben followed the direction of his gaze. Despite the pain, his face creased into a smile. “They’re my family.” His gaze locked with Mac’s, and he saw the look of pride in his father’s eyes.

  “Even that old toothless cowboy and the black dude?”

  “Yeah. My family.” Ben’s voice softened with warmth.

  The sheriff and Detective Godfrey walked up to stand on either side of Ranaldo.

  The detective handcuffed Ranaldo and read him his rights before he was lifted onto a gurney and rolled toward a waiting ambulance.

  As soon as they left, the crowd surged forward, then stepped back a pace as Rebecca’s parents raced across the distance that separated them and caught her in a fierce embrace. All three of them were crying and clinging to one another.

  Virgil Kerr put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “You almost stopped my heart, Ben.”

  “Mine, too, Sheriff.”

  And then Ben’s family gathered around him, shutting out the voices in the crowd.

  His two brothers hadn’t bothered with stairs, lowering themselves instead by hanging off the roof and dropping to the ground just feet away.