Heather's Choice

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Heather's Choice Page 19

by Shirleen Davies


  Caleb agreed with Quinn, hoping he was right.

  “Three against seven.” Colin grinned. “I like the odds.”

  Checking the guns around their waists, they holstered them, then pulled out their rifles, looking at each other.

  “Ready, lads?” Quinn asked.

  “We shoot to kill?” Caleb asked.

  Quinn smiled. “Aye.”

  “Then I’m ready.”

  Holding the reins in one hand, their rifles in the other, they touched their spurs to their horses. Leaning low over the saddles, the three hurried down the hill, riding to intercept the rustlers. Before the outlaws spotted them, Colin nodded to Quinn and Caleb, bracing his rifle against his shoulder as they let loose with the MacLaren war cry.

  “Creag an Tuirc.”

  The ferocious roar alerted not only the outlaws but those guarding the herd. Rifles discharging, they downed two men in quick succession, a third falling an instant later before the man in front, the one dressed all in black, raised his gun and fired.

  The bullet whizzed past Quinn’s cheek, slamming into Colin, knocking him off his horse. Seeing him fall, Caleb took aim, hitting the man he believed to be Black in the shoulder, as Quinn clipped another in the leg. As fast as it started, it ended.

  Reining up, Quinn and Caleb turned around and sprinted back to Colin, as the remaining outlaws raced over the hill and out of sight.

  Not waiting for their horses to stop, each jumped to the ground, kneeling by Colin.

  “Colin.” Quinn slid a hand under his head, while Caleb pulled away the fabric around the wound in his chest. “Colin, lad…”

  “He’s out, Quinn.”

  “The bullet?”

  “It went straight through his shoulder.” Standing, Caleb peeled off his shirt, wadding it into a ball before pressing it onto the wound. “We need to get him back to the house. Someone needs to ride for a doctor.”

  Neither noticed Heather, Emma, Blaine, and Fletcher ride up. Blaine jumped from his horse and leaned over them, staring down at his brother. “Is he…” His voice wobbled, moisture beginning to pool in his eyes.

  Quinn shook his head. “Nae. Passed out, lad.”

  Heather placed a hand on Caleb’s shoulder as Emma knelt beside Quinn. “What can we do?”

  A moan left Colin’s lips, his eyes fluttering but not opening.

  “Colin!” Blaine called down to him, his voice strained.

  Another moan sounded, his eyes opening, then rolling back in his head before he passed out again.

  Quinn looked at Caleb. “We don’t have time to get a wagon. Fletch, get his horse. I’ll ride back with him on Chieftain. Blaine, you’ll be riding beside me. When we get to the house, we’ll send Thane for the doctor.” He looked at Emma. “You’ll be coming with me, lass. I’ll not be leaving you here.” Sucking in a breath, Quinn sent a worried glance at Caleb. “You and the other lads will be handling things here.”

  Caleb settled a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “You take care of Colin and don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”

  Shooting a quick look at Heather, Quinn’s gaze narrowed on Caleb. “You take care of Heather. You’ll be answering to me if anything happens to her.”

  A grim smile curved the corners of Caleb’s lips. “She’s safe with me, Quinn. She’ll always be safe with me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A Cabin Miles North of Conviction

  “Black…” Rushing outside, she lifted her arms up. Her small stature made it difficult to provide much support as he slid off his horse, struggling to keep from collapsing. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Looks worse…than...it is.” They made it to the bottom of the porch steps where he braced a hand against a rail and rested.

  Glancing up, she grimaced at the dark clouds and the sting of the cold wind. “You can’t stop here. You have to get inside where I can tend your wound.”

  “Bleeding’s stopped,” he ground out, sucking in a breath before taking the steps to the front door.

  “That doesn’t mean it won’t start up again if we don’t get it bandaged.” Kicking the door closed behind them, she waited as he lowered himself onto the bunk, feeling somewhat helpless at his much larger height and weight.

  Shoving the thought aside, she dashed to the stove. Ladling more water from a bucket into a simmering pot, she added more wood to the fire, then grabbed towels off nearby hooks. Dipping one into the pot, she wrung it out, then moved back to the bed.

  “Lie down, Black, and I’ll clean you up.”

  “Whiskey…” he moaned as the damp cloth touched the wound.

  Leaving the towel in place, she walked to the cupboard, pulling down an almost empty bottle and the full one next to it. Resting on the edge of the bed, she lifted his head.

  “Drink this. I’ll use the other bottle to cleanse the wound.” Holding it to his lips, she gasped when he gripped her wrist, gulping down what was left. Lowering his head back onto the bed, he nodded.

  “Go ahead,” he breathed out.

  Wiping away the blood, she poured a portion of whiskey on the open wound, hearing his quick intake of breath. “The bullet is still in there.”

  “I know,” he panted. “You’ll have to get it out.”

  Straightening, she shook her head. “Not me. I have no idea what I’m doing as it is. Removing a bullet? That takes a doctor.”

  His eyes flew open, a chill making her shiver at the cold emptiness staring up at her. “There’ll be no doctor.”

  Looking down at him, the anger she’d held in check for days crept forward, taking control. Standing, she settled her fisted hands on her waist, hovering over him. “If I remove the bullet, and you live, we ride out and never come back.”

  His nostrils flared, gaze narrowing on her. “I’ve still got business here.”

  “Fine.” Turning away, she stormed to the other side of the cabin, picked up her coat, and started for the door. “I’ll come back in a few days. If you’re dead, I’ll see you’re buried.”

  She saw the instant he realized she’d reached her limit. His eyes widened, jaw tightened, lips curling before he blew out a tired breath.

  “Dammit, we don’t have time to argue.”

  “I agree.” She took a couple steps toward him. “If I take out the bullet and you live, we leave. No more deals, no more jobs, no more meetings with Giles.” She reached out her hand. “Deal?”

  Snorting, he tried to lift his arm, but it fell back onto the bed. “Deal.”

  “You’re believing the man you shot is Black Jolly?” Heather sat next to Caleb, rifles resting on their laps. No one had returned with news on Colin and tempers were running thin.

  “From your description and Emma’s, yes. Of the seven we saw, four were shot, including Black.”

  “The lads brought back three bodies. We should be burying them, but after what they did to Colin…” She looked away, swiping away the moisture from her face.

  Settling an arm over her shoulders, he tugged her close, kissing her cheek. “The bullet went clean through his shoulder. The doctor will clean him up and he’ll be fine. Besides, he’s too ornery to die.”

  A shaky chuckle escaped as she let herself sink into his side. “Aye, the lad is ornery. I know Sarah must be terribly worried.”

  “She’s strong, as are all the MacLarens.”

  Sitting up, Heather looked at him, her brows drawn together. “And would that include me?”

  Caleb threw back his head and laughed. “Especially you.”

  Shoving him lightly, she smiled before standing. “I’ve a need to walk around a bit.” She lifted a brow, her meaning clear.

  His face sobering, he stood. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Caleb—”

  “I’m not letting you go out there alone, even it is only twenty or thirty feet. I’ll keep back, but I’m going. Now, come on.”

  He caught Bram’s attention, nodding toward the bushes several yards away. As they reached a thick grouping, she ha
nded him her rifle, cutting a path through the branches. Standing with his back to her, his gaze cut to the cattle.

  With this size of a herd, they’d stayed about as long as they could. The water was sufficient, but the grazing land was almost depleted. Another day, maybe two at most, and the cattle would have to be moved.

  “Thank you.” Holding out her hand, Heather took the rifle. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Where to move the cattle next.”

  Heather looked toward the river. All the MacLarens knew they would run out of southern grazing land soon. “We’ve had lads guarding the ponds. Maybe we can go north.”

  Caleb nodded. “We’ll wait for word on Colin, then talk about it with the others and make a decision.”

  Movement from the camp had them looking up to see Fletcher. Heather hurried toward him.

  “You’ve word about Colin?”

  Shaking his head, Fletcher settled a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, lass. No word yet.” He looked at Caleb. “We’ll be burying the three men, unless you think we should be taking them to town.”

  With Colin hurt and Quinn at the ranch, the others knew Ewan and Ian would have them look to Caleb for direction.

  “We have no men or time to take them to town, and we can’t leave them to lay out. Dig shallow graves in case Brodie needs to dig them up for identification. What do you think about moving the herd tomorrow?”

  “Along the river?” Fletcher asked.

  “If there are places for them to drink, yes.” Caleb looked at Heather. She knew the property as well as anyone.

  “The river picks up speed a mile down. We can’t be stopping them there. But three or four hours south, the river slows to a crawl for a good distance. What do you think, Fletch?”

  “You’ve got a good idea, lass. If we start at dawn, we can drive the herd and be there well before the sun sets. We’ll also be a wee bit closer to Colin.”

  Caleb didn’t need to hear any more. “Tell Bram. The two of you let everyone else know and send men to get those guarding the water north of here. We’ll need everyone to move the herd.”

  “What about guarding the ponds?”

  “We’ll have to take our chances, Fletch. Our first priority is watching out for the cattle right in front of us.” Caleb nodded toward the river and the almost three thousand head grazing its banks. “If we must fill in a hundred ponds, that’s what we’ll do. We’ve got the Boundary River and two others, plus numerous springs running through our property. In six months, they’ll be overflowing with runoff from the mountains.”

  He looked at the imposing mountains to the east, knowing within a month, the peaks would be blanketed with early snow. By Christmas, the entire range would be covered, making the trails impassable for several months. In the spring, the snow would melt, sending thousands of gallons of clean water into the rivers and underground springs located on Circle M land.

  “I’d best get Bram and tell the lads what we’re about. Tomorrow will be a long day, so we’d better be getting down early.”

  “Make sure enough men stay on watch, Fletch. I don’t think the outlaws will be dumb enough to come back tonight. Still…”

  Fletcher shook his head, his mouth twisting into a wry grin. “I’m not expecting much from eejits like them. They don’t behave like normal lads. I’ll make sure we’ve enough watching so they won’t surprise us again.”

  Caleb nodded. “Thanks, Fletch.” Shifting his gaze to Heather, he watched as she continued to stare out at the cattle. She’d been doing the same all day, her face clouded with worry. “I’m not going to let them hurt anyone else, Heather.”

  Turning abruptly, she stepped toward him. “It’s not your battle, Caleb. It’s a MacLaren fight.”

  His brows furrowed at her terse response, an odd burning sensation starting to flare in his gut. Resting his rifle butt on the ground, he let his other arm hang loose at his side. “I understand that.”

  She stared at him a moment, nodding once, then stalked past him. Walking up the hill toward their horses, she didn’t stop until she reached the top, slipping the rifle into the scabbard on her saddle.

  Caleb couldn’t move. He knew if enough time passed, she’d break down and say what she felt about him and his place in the family. She might care for him, maybe think she loved him in some small way. Deep in her heart, though, he’d always be an outsider and she the princess of the MacLaren clan.

  He knew loving her wouldn’t be easy. Over the last few weeks, he’d gotten a glimpse of the woman he wanted to share a life with, the Heather he loved. She’d shown him what their future could be like. He’d envisioned a partnership with a strong woman possessing skills to match his own. Now he knew it was all a façade.

  The passionate siren he’d held in his arms was an illusion, a fantasy he’d conjured up in a ridiculous dream of a life together. When life got hard, he’d never be the one she turned to for strength or comfort. She’d turn to her family…the true MacLarens. Not some stray they’d taken in, no matter how much he knew they cared about him. The hardest part for Caleb was he knew Quinn and the others saw him as part of the family, even if she didn’t.

  Watching her mount Shamrock, he picked up his rifle, walking the short distance to Jupiter. Never taking his gaze off her, he stowed the rifle and grabbed the reins.

  “I’d like you to make a circle south. Look for strays and drive them north. I’ll do the same in the other direction. Don’t worry about taking watch tonight. We’ll need you rested for tomorrow.” Swinging up into the saddle in one smooth motion, he took off, ignoring her when she called after him.

  Caleb couldn’t think about her now. Couldn’t think about them. He had a job to do and that would be his focus. Until the men and cattle were safe, the threat to the MacLarens eliminated, he’d stay, giving every waking hour to his adopted family. When the danger had passed, he’d do what he originally intended.

  Caleb would focus on his own future.

  Conviction

  “We have him, Brodie. Giles Delacroix is our man.” Sam sat across from him in the sheriff’s office early in the morning, Seth Montero next to him. It had been almost a week since they’d started following Giles, five days since Colin had been shot. He and Seth hadn’t left Giles alone for a single moment. “He finally made a mistake. Rode out to a remote cabin north of town.”

  Brodie sat forward, resting his arms on the desk. “What did you find?”

  Sam looked at Seth. “It was Montero’s turn to follow the man.”

  Brodie nodded at Seth to explain.

  “Delacroix met with a man he called Black.”

  “Black Jolly…” Brodie breathed out.

  Seth nodded. “That’s what I think. I couldn’t hear all they said, but they were yelling about something Black did. When Black came to the door, his arm and chest were bandaged. He moved slowly, and was stooped over in pain. It didn’t stop him from threatening Giles.”

  “Did you hear what they argued about?’ Brodie asked.

  “Black was hired to do whatever he could to hurt the MacLarens. Giles wants their land.” Seth shook his head.

  Sam looked at Brodie. “It wasn’t complicated. Seems Black had been hired to do the same before. He’s a gunfighter with no qualms about how he makes his money. The problem this time was he went up against a family who fought back and had the resources to stick it out.”

  “Did you try to bring them in, Seth?”

  Seth started to speak, but Sam held up his hand, stopping him. “I told him not to get into a gunfight, Brodie. I thought it best to get you the information and figure out a way to bring them both in for trial.”

  “When did you see them, Seth?”

  “Late yesterday. I followed Delacroix back and told Sam what I saw. By then, it was close to nine, so we decided to talk to you this morning.”

  Sam sat back, crossing his arms. “Delacroix is still in town, Brodie. I saw him eating breakfast at the Gold Dust this morning. He doesn’t suspec
t anything.”

  Brodie rubbed his fingers back and forth across his forehead, his gaze focused out the window. After a few moments, he stood. “We need to talk to Bay. He’s been working with a contact to come up with more information on Giles. With what he has and what Seth heard, we should have enough to arrest both Delacroix and Black Jolly.”

  “There’s one more thing, Sheriff.”

  “What’s that, Seth?”

  “There’s a woman involved.”

  Brodie’s brows drew together. “How do you know that, lad? Did you see her?”

  Seth shook his head. “No, sir. I heard Black say he wasn’t doing anything more without speaking with the woman. He and Delacroix argued about it. When Black pulled a gun, Delacroix closed his mouth.”

  “They didn’t mention the lass’ name?”

  “No, sir, but I got the feeling she was Black’s woman.”

  “We’ll talk to Bay about her. Maybe he’ll know something.” Standing, he grabbed his hat. “Let’s go, lads. If we’re lucky, we’ll have them behind bars by the end of the day.”

  Circle M

  Heather groomed Shamrock, tossed the brush into a bucket, then set the mare loose in the corral behind the barn. A week had passed without any further problems—no fires, shootings, or raids on their cattle. They didn’t know if the outlaws had given up and moved on or if the last attempt had killed off the majority of their number. The MacLarens hadn’t let down their guard, though.

  They kept the herd together, close to the river with men watching them day and night. It wasn’t easy. That many head required huge amounts of acreage and water. They’d have to move them north soon.

  None of that weighed on Heather’s mind. All she could think about was Caleb and how he’d managed to avoid her for days, taking different shifts watching the cattle, eating when she slept, riding out when she came in. He wouldn’t even look at her when they passed within feet of each other—and it was all her fault.

  Heather knew the others noticed, but no one dared say a word, not even Quinn, who usually dared to say whatever popped into his head.

 

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