Longing For The Tormented Sheriff (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  “What are you doing?” the man spat, kicking Samuel in the leg.

  “What…” Samuel mumbled, and Lillian opened her eyes slightly to see the other man pick Samuel up and shaking him.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” the man hissed, “Get out,” he pushed Samuel forward, causing him to stumble and fall. The man became furious and kicked him with all his might, resulting in a dull thud and a groan from Samuel. Lillian couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping her lips. The man turned around and strode towards her. Lillian cowered, trying to hide from the stampeding man, but as he was about to bend down, Samuel spoke.

  “Don’t,” he gasped, trying to stand up, “Our orders were to keep her safe…” Samuel was unable to finish his sentence, and a violent cough overcame him.

  “I’ll deal with you later,” the man growled and picked Samuel up again and threw him from the room. Lillian screamed as she heard the sound of punching and a veil of pain from Samuel.

  Oh, dear God. This man is completely insane—what will he do next? I fear that this is the end…

  * * *

  “Michael!” Rex called. Michael stood outside the Hammond farm and was about to mount the horse that Mr. Hammond had brought him.

  “Wait, just a moment,” he said, walking towards him.

  “I have to go, Rex,” Michael forestalled him, “You know that the shooter will be going back to her, right now. He might even have moved her.”

  “I’m not going to try and stop you,” Rex replied, “You need to be very careful.”

  “I know,” Michael said, but Rex interrupted them.

  “No, I mean, you need to re-evaluate how you are going to approach them,” Rex explained.

  “How do you mean?” Michael asked.

  “These aren’t your everyday criminals,” Rex continued, “They have gotten away with this for a long time, and they are very powerful—and ruthless.” Rex paused for a while and looked behind him at the Hammond house.

  “I didn’t want to say this inside, but these men are monsters. They likely extorted Mr. Wesley before his death, and they might even have planned to burn down his workshop with his family inside.”

  “Are you serious?” Michael exclaimed.

  “In our investigation, there have been many that did not dare to talk to us. People that had already lost a family member, often in a tragic accident. These men are dangerous and will stop at nothing to achieve their goal,” Rex finished.

  “I understand,” Michael replied thoughtfully. This information only lit the fire inside him to get to them and make them pay for their crimes.

  “I will stay here till morning at least,” Rex said, “You never know if they will try to send someone else over here to finish what they started.”

  “Good,” Michael said, heaving himself up onto the light brown horse.

  “If you have not returned here near sunset, I will ride out to you,” Rex said.

  “Let’s hope it does not come to that,” Michael sighed and pulled on the reins, and with a nod to his hat, he rode down the path away from the farm.

  Michael rode on in the pitch-black darkness. The horse he was riding was rather slow but kept a steady pace. It was a strong workhorse, one that Mr. Hammond used for carrying the carriage and various jobs at the farm. Michael desperately wanted to sprint forward, but it was not wise. Mrs. Wesley had marked on the map where the warehouse that had been her husband was.

  It was a long ride from the Hammond farm, and as she had only once been there, the directions weren’t as clear as Michael had hoped. According to the map, he had to be on the lookout for a small dirt road that was very easy to miss once he neared the county border. Michael had an uneasy feeling that if he would not get to the warehouse in time, he might lose Lillian forever.

  The shooter had been furious when he noticed that Michael had managed to get the children away. He thought over and over Rex’s final words to him. They are powerful and ruthless. Michael had an inkling that Rex was still keeping something away from him about these criminals, something that might be too horrible to even speak about.

  * * *

  Lillian covered her ears to try to stop herself from hearing the horrible sounds from outside the room she was in. The other man was kicking Samuel over and over, and the gurgling sound she heard was truly too awful to bear. Finally, the sound of kicking stopped, and Lillian breathed easier, but only for a moment. To her horror, the insane man returned to her room, lighting a cigarette as he walked passed the threshold.

  He looked at her, from under his black hat, his face still covered by the handkerchief. His eyes looked empty and cold, but Lillian noticed that his eyes were crinkled, like he was smiling. He had pulled the handkerchief to the side and drew a long breath from the cigarette.

  His face was obscured by smoke when he exhaled, but Lillian could see that he did not look away from her for even one moment. A cold shudder ran down her spine, but she was as if paralyzed with fear. The man took a taunting step closer to her.

  “Stay away,” Lillian screamed, curling into herself. The man laughed, hollow, horrible laughter. He took another step closer to her, towering over her.

  “Don’t you worry little bird. I will deal with you later.” He threw his cigarette at her, turned around and left the room. Lillian squealed, as she avoided the still-lit cigarette. She was about to stomp it out when the sudden realization hit her. She knew; she finally knew who this was, and the realization made everything much, much worse. It was Ray, her uncle’s assistant.

  Lillian’s mind was racing. How could this be? Why would Ray be keeping her here? It made no sense! Nevertheless, she was certain now, this was his voice, and she recognized the horrible cigarettes that he smoked. He had also called her little bird, Lillian cringed at the thought alone. She had always detested that man but always figured that her uncle had a good reason for keeping him around.

  How could her uncle have been so mistaken? She thought back to the very first time she had met Ray. It had been not long after Uncle Jacob returned to Rust Canyon. Lillian thought with a pang that this had been when her father had still been alive. Lillian had been outside her home in the back garden hanging up the wash.

  There had been a strong breeze blowing through the town, and Lillian struggled to hold the sheets in place as she grabbed a clothespin from her apron. More than once, the sheet flew up in her face or upwards, causing her to hold with all her strength lest it fly away.

  She had just finished fastening a bed sheet with four clothespins and had bent down to pick up the final sheet from the laundry basket when a particularly strong gust of wind caused the sheet to slip from her hands. She had gasped and looked up to see where it had gone when she noticed someone walking toward her, carrying the now crumpled sheet.

  It had been Ray, and he had sauntered towards her, ogling at her in an untoward manner. He had handed over the sheet but refusing to let go of it. His fingers had graced over the back of her hand, causing Lillian to jerk her hand away from him, making the sheet fly away yet again. Ray had chuckled and grabbed the sheet.

  “You should be more careful, little bird,” he had said, handing over the sheet.

  “Who are you?” Lillian had asked, her voice trembling. She had clutched the sheet towards her, backing away slightly from this strange man.

  “Oh, I’m just here, looking for maidens in distress,” Ray had replied, with a wicked grin, “And I guess that I have found a fine one,” he growled. Lillian was about to scream for help when her Uncle Jacob appeared in the back garden.

  “My dear Lillian! I see you’ve met my assistant,” Uncle Jacob had said in his booming voice.

  “Uhm, yes,” Lillian had replied, trying to control her nerves. She hadn’t wanted to offend her uncle and had even thanked Ray for his help. Lillian shook her head at the memory. She hadn’t told anyone about this, but she had been certain even then that Ray Jennings was a bad seed.

  * * *

  The sky was growing lighte
r. It was not yet daybreak, but the dawn was quickly approaching. Michael slowed down and grabbed the map from his rucksack. He opened it and looked at the markings that Mrs. Wesley had written. Somewhere around here, the dirt road should be, but Michael could not see any signs of it. Had he ridden too far?

  Mrs. Wesley had mentioned that the road was near a cluster of three trees that grew unusually tightly together. He should turn left there and then immediately turn to the right. Michael noticed a cluster of trees ahead, but when he looked further up the road, he saw a similar cluster of trees as well. Where should he go? If he made a wrong turn here, he might be too late. Michael doubted that the shooter would travel in broad daylight.

  He looked at the map again but realized he would have to make a decision himself, as either pathway could be what Mrs. Wesley described. He packed the map again and rode ahead towards the first cluster of trees, hoping against hope he wasn’t making a possibly deadly mistake. There was no clear indication where he should turn to the right, so he turned blindly, beginning to ride through tall grass and rocky terrain. He would have to ride for at least two miles.

  * * *

  Ray was walking in and out of the house they were in, Lillian noticed. She could hear his retreating and approaching footsteps again and again, and she wondered what he could possibly be doing. He hadn’t closed the door to her room when he left her earlier. Lillian had been trying to move, as quietly as possible, towards the opening of the room. She wanted to see what Ray was doing.

  She did not dare try to escape again, but she desperately wanted to see if Samuel was all right. She had moved to the far end of the mattress, but she was still unable to see anything.

  I must stand up. I cannot sit idly by; I must know what is happening.

  Very slowly, Lillian stood up, clutching the rope she still had around her wrists. She heard noise from outside, and she knew she would have to be quick. She tiptoed to the doorway of the room and peered outside. Very nearly, she managed to muffle her own scream at the sight that greeted her. On the floor, a few feet away from her, lay Samuel, covered in blood and not moving.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she looked outside and noticed Ray pacing around, smoking another cigarette. Throwing caution to the wind, Lillian hurried towards Samuel. She sat next to him and whispered softly: “Samuel?”

  To her relief, he stirred, trying to open his swollen eyes, “Lillian,” he gargled.

  “What did he do to you,” Lillian whimpered.

  “Go…” Samuel murmured, “Hide.”

  “I can’t,” Lillian sobbed.

  “Must…” Samuel said, trying to sit up.

  “No, please, lie still,” Lillian pleaded.

  “I distract,” Samuel gasped.

  “Is that so?” Ray said, suddenly appearing behind them. Lillian screamed and tried to crawl away, but Ray grabbed her by the hair.

  “You still haven’t had enough, Sammy boy,” Ray taunted, and Lillian whimpered with pain as he held her tightly, “Well, I see that I will have to squash this traitor,” he spat.

  “NO,” Lillian screamed, making Ray hold even tighter to her.

  “And you!” Ray snarled, “I will have to deal with you sooner than I anticipated… Lucky me,” he growled, pulling her towards him and sniffing her hair luridly. Lillian shuddered violently at the close proximity of Ray, the stench making her nauseous.

  “I have always wanted to get to know you better, little bird,” Ray panted in her ear, and Lillian felt rage course through her like fire. She drew a heavy breath before she smashed her head directly into his face, causing a loud cracking sound from his nose.

  “Ahhh, you tottie!” Ray yelled, letting go of her as he clutched his nose, “You will pay for this,” he growled. Lillian ran backward, terror filling her as she had never before felt. Ray was quickly approaching her, looking deranged. He bent down to grab her again, but as he was about to sink his filthy hands in her hair again a loud, ringing gunshot caused both of them to look up.

  A man stood in the doorway to the building; his dark silhouette looked impressive with the rising sun shining behind him. Lillian gasped as the man walked towards them, making out who it was.

  “Let go of her,” Michael said icily, pointing his gun directly at Ray.

  “Michael!” Lillian screamed, but Ray turned towards her and slapped her across the cheek. Michael ran towards him like a snorting bull, anger and fury blinding him. He even dropped his gun in his haste to grab the man that had hurt his Lillian. He jumped on top of the man, punching him with all his might. Michael ripped off the man’s hat and handkerchief, realizing who he was.

  “Ray!” Michael bellowed, but his momentary bewilderment caused him to loosen his hold on Ray, who kicked him off him and put his hand on his belt, trying to fetch his gun. Michael lunged at him again, kicking him and trying to grab the gun as well. The two of them struggled to reach the gun, but finally, Michael overpowered Ray, pushing him on his side, pinching his hand. Ray yelled in pain, and Michael grabbed his gun.

  His fingers grazed over the barrel, when Ray managed to turn around, narrowly snatching the weapon away from Michael. At once, he pulled the trigger. Michael felt a burning sensation on his arm, but he gritted his teeth and pushed Ray down, swinging his hand hard on the ground. The gun flew into the air and landed a far distance away.

  Ray cackled and spat blood from his mouth, that was pouring from his nose. Michael gave him a blow to the abdomen, and Ray keeled over. Quickly Michael turned him around and pulled his hands and feet back. He took the rope from his belt and tied him up, like a bull at a rodeo. Ray thrashed around and tried to pull free, but Michael pulled the roped tighter and tied a secure knot. Ray was unable to move, but that did not stop him from trying.

  “You’re going to regret this, Flemming,” Ray spat. Michael stood up, ignoring Ray. He walked towards Lillian and helped her up. She looked so frail and was shaking like a leaf. She held his hand, and silent tears were streaming down her cheeks. Michael’s relief of finding her safe was almost too much. He pulled her towards her and kissed her fiercely.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The kiss seemed to expand on for seconds, which then turned to minutes, which could have been years. Or that was at least how Lillian felt. Suddenly, all panic was gone, and she felt no fear. Michael had found her, and he was here with her now. She clung on to him, and Michael held her securely—protecting her from the evils that surrounded them. When they finally broke apart, Michael stared into her eyes, and Lillian saw only warmth and love.

  “You found me,” she whispered, still holding onto his strong arms.

  “I was not going to rest until I found you,” Michael breathed, observing her face as if trying to remember every feature of her appearance.

  “I’m shaking,” Lillian said, noticing how her hands trembled, “Oh, but you’re hurt,” she said, looking at his arm.

  “This is just a flesh wound,” Michael dismissed, looking at where the bullet grazed him.

  “I need to get you away from here,” he added.

  “How did you find me?” Lillian asked.

  “That’s a story for another time,” Michael said, looking away from her and glancing angrily at Ray.

  “I still cannot fathom that you are here,” Lillian said in disbelief, “I fear that I will wake up in a moment to have all of this have been a dream.”

  “This is no dream,” Michael reassured her, taking her hand in his, “I am here.”

  “Oh, Michael,” she whispered, wiping away her tears with her free hand.

  “It makes my blood boil, that after all this time, it was Ray Jennings that was behind this,” Michael said angrily.

  “I don’t understand it… He has been my uncle’s assistant for years. Uncle Jacob trusts him explicitly and…” her voice trailed off, and a look of horror appeared on her frightened face.

  “What is it?” Michael asked, concerned.

  “His… Years,” Lillian muttered.
>
  “Lillian?” Michael asked again.

  “Uncle Jacob,” Lillian said simply, “No.”

  “What do you mean?” Michael said.

  “I… I think,” Lillian stammered, “I think my uncle might be the one behind all of this!”

  “Jacob Frazier?” Michael retorted, thinking fast.

  Jacob Frazier, who had seemed worried out of his mind after Lillian disappeared; who had helped with the search, and warned Michael when Vincent tried to shoot him… Jacob, who had directly benefitted from all the fires and strategies and had arrived in Rust Canyon just months before the first incidents began happening. It all made sense, Michael thought.