The Reward

by Beth Williamson

  “Get your asses out here. The sun’s gone down and we need to take up position.” Tyler’s voice came through the door.

  Leigh let go of Malcolm enough to look him in the eye. “Is he always this friendly?”

  “And put some clothes on first.”

  They heard him stomping away.

  Malcolm smiled. “No, he’s usually meaner.”

  She laughed and hugged him again. When she pulled back, her expression was more serious. “It’s time.”

  “Yes, it is time. We need to be done with Damasco tonight so we can have tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  When Leigh and Malcolm made it downstairs ten minutes later, everyone was gathered in the kitchen. Ray stood in the corner, big arms crossed, silent. Jack sat at the table with Nicky. They were like two peas in a pod with their expressions and mannerisms as they discussed the merits of the Colt pistol versus the Winchester repeating rifle. Tyler stood near the door, ready, it seemed, for anything.

  Leigh wasn’t sure what to make of Malcolm’s friends, but they looked like they knew their way around guns.

  “I wanted to say thank you again for being here. This isn’t your fight. You don’t even know me. I will never forget this and if you ever need anything from me, you only need to ask.”

  Malcolm reached out and squeezed her hand.

  Nicky smiled. “Nothing to it, Leigh. You’re family now.”

  You’re family now.

  Nicky’s response was enough to bring back the damn tear to her eye. She’d never really had a family. Now here they were, announcing to all and sundry that she was a part of the family.

  “What’s the plan, boss?” Jack asked her.

  She squared her shoulders and took hold of her rampant girlie side. “I was thinking me and Nicky here in the house. I’ll take the front, she can watch the back. Jack and Ray in the barn, one in the loft, one by the back. Tyler and Malcolm in the bunkhouse at either end. Anybody sees anything, hoot like an owl three times in a row, one hoot response.”

  Murmurs of agreement met her plan.

  Nicky looked up at her husband. “Anything you want to add, bounty hunter?”

  When he smiled at her, Leigh saw why Nicky loved him. He was simply gorgeous and the love shining from his ice-blue eyes was clear for all to see.

  “No, magpie, I think she’s got it all planned out.”

  Nicky stood and handed pouches made from potato sacks with bullets and shells to each of them.

  “Everyone has a Colt and a rifle. This is all we have. Make every shot count because we don’t know how many will be coming.”

  Jack had lunch buckets made up. “We cut up the bread, sliced some ham and put some water in jars. Didn’t know how long this would last.”

  He handed a bucket to Tyler and Malcolm, one to Ray and one to Nicky.

  “Thanks, Jack. I didn’t even think about food and water.” Leigh hated to admit she was forgetting things.

  “No problem.” He smiled.

  “Okay, then, we should split up. Remember the signal for help is two shots fired close together,” Tyler said.

  Nicky went to her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck in a natural movement that spoke of deep closeness. His arms circled her and they whispered softly.

  Jack looked at Ray and batted his lashes. “Since Becky’s not here, will you give me a hug, big brother?”

  “Go hump a tree, Jack,” Ray responded.

  Jack laughed and stood. “Shall we go then?”

  Ray grunted and the two of them headed for the door.

  “Be careful,” Leigh said.

  Jack saluted her with a blue-eyed twinkle and Ray nodded. How could two totally different people be brothers?

  Malcolm’s hands landed on her shoulders and he pushed his cheek against her hair.

  “Amante. Cuidado, por favor. I do not want to lose the woman I just promised to be with forever.”

  “I’ll be careful. But you have to promise that you won’t do anything stupid like run out with your guns blazing.” She had to have that comfort.

  She felt him smile. “I promise.”

  Her throat grew very tight and fear skittered through her. Turning, she hugged him tightly.

  “I love you,” she said into his shoulder.

  “Sí, te amo, amante.”

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I promised, didn’t I?”

  She nodded, then lifted her head and gave him a hard kiss. She stepped out of his arms. His black eyes started to harden as she watched. He was preparing for battle, getting ready to face his lifelong enemy. There was so much at stake now. So much. Lives were depending on them, on everything they did tonight. Leigh hoped her little army would still be standing when the dawn broke and painted the ground red. It had been a long time since she prayed to God. But if He was listening, she was praying now.

  Please keep him safe. Keep them all safe. Don’t let them die because they wanted to help a lonely, over-the-hill widow.

  Malcolm pulled his hat low on his forehead and approached Tyler and Nicky.

  “Roja, I need to take your man for a while. I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

  Nicky stepped back and raised one eyebrow at Malcolm. “As long as you bring him back.”

  “Sí, I will. Because for some reason, you want to keep him.”

  “Yup, I do.” With one last kiss for her husband, Nicky joined Leigh.

  “How the hell did I get stuck with you again?” Tyler groused at Malcolm as they walked out the door.

  “I told you before, buena suerte, bounty hunter.”

  Leigh looked at Nicky and saw the worry written plainly in her green eyes.

  “How bad is this Damasco?”

  Leigh repressed a shudder. “Bad. He…he was twisted up inside by his mother. She is the queen of bitches. I’m surprised she doesn’t howl at the moon and shed like the dog that she is. I never believed in evil until I met Isabella.”

  Nicky nodded grimly. “Call me if you need me. I’ll do the same.”

  She grabbed the bucket from the table where she’d left it and headed to the back of the house. Leigh picked up the rifle from the table, then turned out the lamp.

  Darkness spread around the room. She let her eyes adjust before taking up her position by the sink near the rifle hole.

  It was almost time.

  ———

  It seemed like days had passed, when it had probably only been hours. Leigh was anxious. Crazy anxious. Like waiting for a whooping when she was a child. It was the anticipation that was killing her. Her palms were sweaty so she kept wiping them on her jeans. All she could hear was her own ragged breathing and the chirp and twitter of the night outside.

  Waiting was never her strong suit. Leigh always simply took or asked for what she wanted without waiting. She couldn’t do that tonight. They had to catch that bastard and his cohorts on her ranch. That way if they killed them, it would be self-defense. And if, God forbid, one of her new family got killed, it would be murder.

  Leigh felt a trickle of sweat meander down her forehead, then take a left turn to head for the side of her nose, making her glasses slide. She really wanted to take them off, but she couldn’t see six feet past her face without them. There was a six inch by six inch rifle hole for her in the boarded up window. Ray and Jack had removed one pane from each window to allow for it.

  It was one of those things if you thought about for too long you’d go crazy. But if you did it, like scratching your nose or taking off your glasses, that’s when whatever it was you were waiting on finally happened. And you weren’t ready.

  Leigh was afraid that would be her. So she just wiped the sweat off her nose as best she could with her damn sweaty hands, and pushed her glasses back up.

  That’s when she saw a shadow move by the corral. She squinted and focused tightly on the area right behind the fence.

  It moved again—a figure, crouched down, walking on its haunches. Her heart b
egan to beat faster. Its steady rhythm echoed through her ears as her pulse picked up as well. She concentrated on the shadow as it slowly made its way toward the barn.

  She leaned her mouth toward the rifle hole and hooted three times. An answering hoot came from the barn. They’d heard her. Thank God. Perhaps they had even seen the shadow, too.

  She cocked the rifle and peered outside again. The shadow had stopped moving. Leigh held her breath, never losing sight of the corral, and waited. Her shoulder and arm began to cramp, and the sweat trickled down her nose and her spine. And yet she stood, waiting, watching.

  ———

  Malcolm heard the three hoots from the house and realized it must have been Leigh. He heard an answering hoot from the barn. Ray and Jack were on point. He felt the weight of Leigh’s compass in his pocket. Carrying a piece of his woman beside him.

  “You see anything?” came Tyler’s hiss from across the room.

  “No,” Malcolm snapped.

  “That was Leigh, right?”

  “Sí, that was her.”

  Silence again. Malcolm shifted his position so he could peer in the other direction out the rifle hole. Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. What did Leigh see?

  He was wracked with the urge to go running to the house to make sure she was okay. That urge battled against his common sense and experience. He had to keep his ass glued in place and stick to the plan. Leigh had a good plan; she was a smart, capable woman, but still…

  Malcolm worried about her.

  It was a completely new experience, along with loving her, which he just had not gotten used to. Hell, the whole thing was hard. Harder than running and hiding for fifteen years.

  Something moved by the corner of the house.

  He wasn’t really paying attention, dammit, but his night vision was keen enough he caught it out of the corner of his eye.

  “North side of the house,” he whispered to Tyler.

  “I see ‘em,” Tyler whispered back.

  No, there were two, no, three somethings moving. They headed for the front of the house down the porch. And Leigh.

  And she couldn’t see them because they were coming up under her line of sight.

  Malcolm wasn’t worried anymore—he was scared shitless. He leaned his mouth close to the rifle hole and hooted three times. If he didn’t hear her answering hoot, to hell with the plan, he was going out there.

  ———

  Leigh heard three hoots from the bunkhouse. Malcolm or Tyler must have seen something near the house or barn. She hoped it was the barn, but her gut told her it wasn’t. Someone was near the house.

  It was nearly time. She tasted fear, excitement and anxiety on her tongue. This would be it. Live or die. The rest of her life would be decided tonight.

  Leigh cupped her mouth and hooted back, then eased herself into position to wait for the attack. She wiped her hands again on her pants and her forehead across her sleeve. She had just taken her glasses off to wipe her eyes when she saw the barrel of a pistol poking through the rifle hole. At her.

  ———

  From the loft, Jack tracked three men as they approached the barn. He didn’t want to take his eyes off them or he’d lose sight of them in the darkness. Starlight shone in the lonely night and the blackness was as deep as a well without the moon for company.

  There were probably more of Damasco’s men in the back, but Ray was positioned with his rifle and pistols. He was damn deadly with both weapons.

  Jack was so focused on his three shadows he almost missed the ones by the house. They were creeping up on the southeast side, where Nicky waited. A quick look showed at least three, perhaps four or five.

  He hooted three times in the direction of the house and hoped his sister heard him.

  ———

  Nicky heard the hoots from the barn, the house and the bunkhouse and figured they were being surrounded. She checked her ammunition supply again, made sure it was within reach, and cocked both guns. She hooted once then settled herself.

  Waiting was always the hardest part. She hoped Tyler and Malcolm were okay. They were both seasoned fighters, smart, deadly men. They wouldn’t be taken down unless someone got a lucky shot.

  But both she and Leigh were in the house alone, and she had a feeling they would be a big target. Nothing motivated a man more than having his woman in danger.

  She hoped those two fools wouldn’t take it in their heads to come charging to the rescue.

  ———

  Malcolm couldn’t see the porch because the shadows were too deep there. That meant he couldn’t see the bandejos who were sneaking up on the house.

  His palms itched and his heart thumped. He was going to lose his mind waiting.

  “They’re on the porch,” he whispered to Tyler.

  “I know.”

  “I can’t see them, dammit.”

  “I know.”

  He stood and ran over to Tyler who crouched on the other side by his rifle hole.

  “I can’t stay here and let those women fight three men alone.”

  Tyler turned to him in the gloom, his blue eyes pools of shadows.

  “Do you think I would let my wife die?”

  “No.”

  Tyler rose so he was eye to eye with Malcolm.

  “You ready to die for your woman, amigo?”

  “Yes.”

  A gleam of white in the darkness told Malcolm that Tyler smiled at his response.

  “Let’s go.”

  ———

  Leigh cursed herself. She knew if she wasn’t ready, the attack would come. Only she didn’t think it would be so soon. She didn’t move a single smidge. It was dark enough in the kitchen she didn’t think whoever owned the pistol would be able to see her. Unless she moved.

  Her glasses were hidden in her right hand so hopefully they wouldn’t reflect anything. The damn sweat slid down her nose. It itched something fierce, but she dared not move.

  The barrel of the pistol moved slowly inch by inch right to left, then back again. The nearer it came to her, the more rapidly her heart beat, the itchier her nose got.

  That’s when the knob to the door next to her started to turn.

  Oh, damn. It wasn’t locked.

  If she moved, she was a target for the owner of the pistol. If she didn’t move, the door was going to hit her when it opened.

  Leigh figured she had about five seconds to decide.

  ———

  Malcolm and Tyler eased the bunkhouse door open. Malcolm crouched, pistols cocked and ready. Tyler sat beside him like a panther ready to spring. Both of them surveyed the immediate area and saw no one. Obviously the bunkhouse was not the attack point.

  “Malcolm,” a man whispered.

  “Diego?”

  “Sí, I am here. There are eight at the house, and another six at the barn. The rest are looking for the cattle. You hide them good, hijo.”

  “You two are making enough noise for four people so shut the hell up,” Tyler hissed. “If there’s eight goddamn men gunning for my wife, let’s haul our asses over there and stop them.”

  Malcolm couldn’t agree more. He ran at a crouch for the porch, so glad he’d slipped on his moccasins from his saddlebags. He was as silent as the stars.

  When he reached the hitching post and the horse trough, he stopped and listened. He heard a scrape of a boot on the wood-plank porch and pinpointed the noise. He crept closer with his pistol steady.

  His heart thudded in his ears as he finally got close enough to the cabron about to open the door.

  With an ear-splitting war cry, Malcolm launched himself at the man while firing at the other man by the window. The door swung open and a rifle pointed in his face as he grappled with the son of a bitch.

  “Move, Malcolm. I can’t tell which one you are.” Leigh’s terse command was easier said than done.

  With a mighty push, he broke free and rolled to the right.

  “In front of you,” he shouted.

&nbs
p; A rifle shot and a cry of pain followed.

  “Malcolm?”

  He saw it out of the corner of his eye. Another cabron hiding behind the horse trough.

  “Get down!”

  In the blink of an eye she lay flat on her belly, out of the line of fire. He whirled to find the man, but no one was there.

  Leigh didn’t call out again. She knew he was hunting.

  They heard gunfire from the barn and the other side of the house. Malcolm figured Tyler had reached where he was going and found the other bastards. Answering fire from the corral pinged and dinged off the side of the barn. The whine of bullets echoed through the pre-dawn air.

  Malcolm paused, unmoving and silent. Still nothing. That bandejo was waiting. As soon as one of them moved, he’d pick them off like buzzards on a carcass.

  ———

  Leigh stretched out flat on the porch, breathing dust and dirt into her nose. Her eyes watered and dammit, she felt like she was going to sneeze. She wanted to itch, to move, to shoot something. Instead she was trapped until Malcolm told her otherwise.

  That thought was enough to change her mind. No man told her anything. She made her own decisions.

  She sprang to her feet, rifle ready, and jumped down from the porch onto the ground. She headed for the other side of the trough to where she thought Malcolm was.

  “No, amante!” he shouted from somewhere behind her. “Diego, cover her.”

  Before she could turn and find him in the dark, something slammed into her back and suddenly the ground was heading for her face.

  “Hah! Got you, you worthless bitch,” she heard Damasco say.

  And then the pain hit. Oh, shit. She’d been shot. In the back.

  Malcolm’s cry of rage burned her ears.

  ———

  Malcolm stood, both guns aimed at Damasco. His younger brother was dressed all in black with his pistol aimed at Leigh’s prone head.

  “Will you kill me, hermano?” he taunted. “She’s an easy mark. If you even twitch on that trigger, I’ll blow off that ugly head of hers.”

  “No, you son of a bitch. You’re mine. Face me like a man,” Malcolm shouted, helpless, furious and sick to his stomach. Leigh was lying on the ground bleeding, with a gun pointed at her head. He wanted to kill Damasco so badly his mouth filled with the taste of hate.