by Linda Broday
Ridge shot her a quick glance. “Are you all right, Addie? Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head and took the chance to run from Tiny and stand beside Eleanor.
The men closed a circle around the two varmints. “I recognized your kind when you came into town.” Ridge took their guns. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I will protect my wife to my last breath.”
Tiny glanced from one face to the other and licked his dry lips. “We weren’t gonna hurt her. I swear.”
“We haven’t had a hanging yet in Hope’s Crossing.” Jack poked Pickens in the back with his gun. “Might be time to change that.”
Clay studied Tiny, looking him up and down. “Just because we haven’t had one doesn’t mean we don’t know how a hanging’s done. In fact, we know better than most.”
“We don’t even need a judge or a gallows, either,” Travis added with a cold smile. “We can make it short and sweet.”
“Hell, man, hold on there.” Tiny’s eyes bulged, a rivulet of sweat running down his face.
Pickens swung his stony gaze to Addie. “We ain’t done nothing but talk. If she says different, she lies. No law against talkin’.”
Ridge snorted. “It appears to me that we stopped you before you had a chance to carry out whatever it was you meant to do. We’ll put you in our strap-iron jail until we decide what needs doing. Now march.”
Once the others were gone, Ridge put his gun away and went to Addie. She snuggled against him, safe and warm in his arms.
And she rather liked it.
Fifteen
Ridge understood Addie’s quiet mood on the way home. Pickens and Tiny had given her a big fright. He was just grateful that he’d seen them ride in earlier that day and realized who they were. Since the guard had only been on the lookout for Hiram, he’d let them pass. The two had hung around the saloon for a good bit, then Ridge had followed them to Eleanor’s. He trembled to think how easily he could’ve lost Addie today if he hadn’t been paying attention.
The light would’ve gone out of his world.
Ridge shot Addie a sideways glance. She stared straight ahead, her plump lips trembling, the breeze fluttering short tendrils of hair next to her ear. He needed to ask her what the men meant with their questions about a kid, but he wouldn’t press her tonight. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder. Who was the child, and why would Addie know? Was the child hers?
The silence was a little awkward. He didn’t exactly know what to say to her. They’d moved onto unfamiliar ground, and he wasn’t sure when or why.
He’d wanted a few private moments with the pair Addie’s father had sent to get some answers, but Jack and Clay sent him to Addie. Ridge reckoned there was time enough for some justice later. Tiny and Pickens weren’t going anywhere.
With a beautiful sky overhead and a few lazy clouds on the horizon, Cob and King snuffled softly as they entered their property and headed toward the house. As had been Ridge’s custom, his nerves even more on edge now, he gave the place a wary scan, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Bodie came around to the front to wave, and Ridge relaxed. Everything was fine. For now.
“Your cats are waiting for you on the porch. They must’ve heard us and come running.”
Addie craned her neck and smiled. The sight of her smile was a relief after seeing her so somber. Now if only she would find her voice again—there was lots he wanted to ask her. Things he wanted to say that were best spoken, and answers gotten directly from her own lips.
Tonight, though, he’d find a way to tell her—somehow—why he became an outlaw. No more putting that conversation off. He’d skirted that issue for too long. Not because of her speaking problem but due to his, and the fact he’d intended to keep that hidden from her. Yet he saw now that keeping secrets from a spouse kept a relationship from growing, and Addie had to feel it between them.
He sure as hell felt hers and hoped she would trust him enough to let it out soon.
Bodie walked beside them to the barn, grinning from ear to ear. “I got all my work done early, then started on my learning. I can recite the alphabet start to finish. Wanna hear?”
Clearly, he’d been itching for them to get home. Ridge chuckled at the kid’s enthusiasm. “Sure.”
With a deep breath, Bodie started. He stumbled a tad toward the end and had to correct himself but got it right by the time they reached the back of the house.
“That’s great. I’m proud of you.” Ridge dismounted and took the basket of vegetables, setting them aside to give Addie a hand down from King.
“Do you really think so? You’re not just saying that?”
“I meant it, son.” Ridge collected the reins of both horses. “Addie, I’ll take care of King.”
She nodded, then went to their young ranch hand. She patted his chest, then put her arms around him and gave the boy a hug, acting like a proud mama.
Bodie pulled away, happy but obviously also embarrassed at the show of affection. After Addie went into the kitchen with her basket, he faced Ridge. “I wanted to please you most of all, but I also want to learn. I want to be able to read and write and all that other stuff that will make my life easier. You know?”
“Yes, son, I know. I’m glad to help.” Ridge walked the horses into the barn, and Bodie followed, talking away.
“I think my pa would be happy I’m trying to get smart. He always said a man never knows all of anything and keeps learning all his life.”
Ridge removed the bridle from King and slipped a halter on. “Your pa must’ve been a good man.” What had gotten into the kid? Ridge suspected he’d kept a lot inside, and now that Bodie was safe, it needed to come out.
“He was. He sure loved my mama. They used to kiss a lot.” Bodie unsaddled Cob. “I can tell how much you love Addie,” he added quietly.
The last part of the conversation struck Ridge like a bullet between the eyes. He stilled. “Why do you say that?”
“You know, it’s not so much what you say but how you say it. When you talk to her, your voice gets all gentle and melty like my pa’s used to.” Bodie rested a hand on the horse’s back, and a distant look filled the kid’s eyes. “Pa’s voice made me feel warm inside. Yours does too. Thank you for giving me a chance.”
“I’m happy to do it. Everyone needs someone to care about them.” Ridge’s reply was hoarse and rough. He cleared his throat. “Anyone would do the same.”
“You’re wrong. They didn’t. All my relatives treated me like I had cholera or the pox, and it would rub off on them. I heard one uncle say they would have to burn the bedding I slept on. They couldn’t wait to pass me off to the next one.”
Ridge turned to face him. “Don’t waste another thought on those people. As far as I’m concerned, they’re downright stupid. You have worth and never forget it. You have more to be proud of right now than your relatives will ever have in their whole pathetic lives. I’m glad you’re here with us, and I know Addie feels that way too. You’re family.”
The kid coughed and turned away for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “I like that. I sure do. Can you read more in that book tonight about Oliver?”
Ridge put Cob in his stall. “Yeah, I’ll read.”
Bodie finally hushed and let Ridge think for a spell. Loving Addie? Sure, he cared for her and would take a bullet meant for her, but that was what a good man did. Sure, she made his life better, and he’d do anything to make sure she stayed happy, but it didn’t mean he was in love. Nope. Love was something big and noisy, like Chinese fireworks. The kid had everything all wrong.
He finished up and fed the horses, then stood there a moment watching Miss Kitty and Squeakers play. Finally, he took a deep breath and went inside as the evening shadows fell. Delicious smells coming from the stove and Addie hunched over a notebook at the table, writing by the lantern light, were things he’d re
member the rest of his life.
If he was right, he had just enough time for a talk before they ate.
She glanced up and offered a quivery smile, deep despair lining her face.
“What is it, love?” He moved a chair beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.
Addie turned the page of her notebook, writing: “Eleanor convinced me that I need to tell you some things. I know you have questions. But it’s hard.”
“Yes, it is.” He kissed her cheek. “I only want to know one thing, and the rest can wait. Do you have a child somewhere that you need to see to?”
She shook her head. “Not mine.”
“Is this kid in danger?”
“Safe for now.”
“Okay. I need you to listen to something I have to say, and it might make it easier for you to speak your piece in return. We’ve both kept our pasts bottled up for too long, and I don’t want any secrets standing between us. We can’t move forward until we do.” He removed his hat and laid it on the table. Curiosity sat in her pretty eyes. “First though, I’m sorry for letting those two hoodlums get so close to you. I should’ve taken care of them long before you stepped out of Eleanor’s, but I took time to go for reinforcements.”
She shook her head and scribbled: “You couldn’t stop them by yourself. Pickens is a cold-blooded killer. My father kept him and Tiny around as an added measure of control.”
“Still, I apologize that I put you in danger.” A long inhale filled his lungs with air. “You asked me how I became an outlaw and why there’s such a large bounty on my head. I hope you understand when I tell you the story.
“I once pastored a church in Silver Valley, and I was good at my job. One night I was riding home alone after visiting a parishioner’s gravely ill child.” He paused and stared at his open hand, his mind’s eye seeing a large red stain covering his palm. “I heard yelling and a woman screaming, from a ways off the road. I pushed through some trees and found myself surrounded by a group of men. They had a woman with them, a young one, doubt she was more than seventeen. Her dress was ripped nearly off and she was crying.”
Ridge got up and went to the window to look out, spreading his arms wide on the counter. “I asked the men what they were doing, although it was pretty clear. They snarled that it was none of my concern. Ride on, they ordered. I didn’t wear a gun back then—didn’t see any need for one. I made the mistake of dismounting to speak with the woman, and the men grabbed, slamming me to the ground.
“I remember them shouting and trying to figure out what to do with me. One hollered that I was the preacher and would talk. Another said it’d be a cold day in hell when he’d let me ruin them. I got back to my feet, but one of them—probably not even old enough to have been in long pants too many years—got in my face. I shoved him away.” Ridge winced at the memory he couldn’t shake. “He went down hard, striking his head on a rock. Died right then.”
Addie gasped.
Ridge tried to keep his voice even, but the words came out rusty. “The law says I killed him. His pa refused to hear the truth.”
A chair scooted away from the table, and Addie’s footsteps came to him, and her warm hand was on his back. He turned to see her tear-filled eyes. Wordlessly, he opened his arms, and she walked into them.
* * *
Addie glanced up and tenderly laid her palm against his jaw, her heart aching for the man she’d married. Telling this story was tearing him apart, yet he kept going—for her sake, because he wanted no secrets between them. A twinge of guilt pricked her. She rose on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. The kiss, though brief, would let him know she admired and cared for him.
“Let me finish while I can. I’ll never speak of this again,” he murmured.
She nodded, and he continued. “They dragged me and the girl into town to the sheriff. One of the men, her own father, forced her to say that I was the one who committed the crime against her, and my worthless accusers heaped more lies on top of that.
“I found out later that her bastard father had given her to them for the night to pay off a debt. They threatened to put a bullet in the man’s head unless he got his daughter to lie and save their hides. The sea of voices drowned me out. No one listened to what I had to say.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. She held him tightly, her arms around his waist, wishing she could take his pain from him.
“A group of vigilantes grabbed a rope, and they took me to a tree. I remember staring up at the stars, wondering why God had let this happen. I had always lived an exemplary life and done His work without complaint. How could my life end because people who knew me chose to believe lies instead of the truth?” Ridge shuddered. “They put the rope around my neck, and I knew I’d seen my last sunset.”
Addie held him tighter, pressing herself against his tall body. It was all she could do to make him aware he wasn’t alone.
“The next part was a bit fuzzy. As I waited to die, Clay Colby galloped in, shot the rope in half. I didn’t know him before that moment, but he helped me escape. His only explanation was that he never liked a stacked deck.” Ridge glanced down, his haunted eyes boring a hole into her. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
Addie saw how these events had crushed his spirit and turned him into someone he’d never planned to be. She took a moment to look at her situation and found that Ezekiel, the punishment, prison had also changed her in countless ways. They were both different people.
They stood in silence for several moments, and she watched a muscle in his jaw work. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed. Finally, he spat in anguish, “I’m a killer, and a lie branded me a…despicable piece of humanity.” He stepped away from her. “Me, a man of God, someone who preys on women! I vow to you that I’ve never done that. Ever!”
She reached for her paper. “I know that.”
“That wasn’t the end of it, though. The young man I killed was the favorite son of a wealthy rancher. Tom Calder and his older son gathered some men and came after me with a vengeance. I ended up shooting his namesake between the eyes. I took both his boys from him. Calder went home a broken man, vowing to see me in a grave before he dies.” Ridge rubbed the day’s stubble along his jaw. “Killing only leads to more killing. It never ends. I’m positive I’ll meet up with Calder in the near future. He just has to find me first.”
His voice had risen, but she wasn’t afraid. Her own anger rose as she faced him and shook her head, writing, “He’s a fool. His younger son’s death was an accident, and the other was due to his own stupidity. I can see that you’re a decent man, a good man, someone I’m proud to be married to—and you know who and what you are. Nothing else matters.”
“Might I remind you that I have a price on my head? I can be arrested, hanged for it.”
“We’ll make sure you’re not.”
“How?” His eyes blazed with helpless fury. “How can we do that?”
She didn’t know, but she’d do whatever she must in order to keep Ridge free—and that was a promise. She hadn’t found the only decent man in her life only to lose him now.
Sixteen
Ridge worked with Bodie’s lessons after supper, then read a chapter from Oliver Twist aloud while Addie darned socks and knitted. Anyone looking in at them would never have been able to imagine the undercurrent of danger hidden beneath their relaxation. They could be any happy family in Texas. Except they weren’t just anyone’s. Addie and Bodie were his—and they were all he had.
He thought of his four sisters, married with children, who cursed him to this day, refusing to utter his name. His parents long dead. Yes, Addie and Bodie made up his family.
Addie shifted in her chair, listening with rapt attention as Ridge got to the part in the book where the character Nancy developed a caring for the young orphan Oliver. Addie sniffled and wiped her eyes. Soft lamplight shone on
the delicate curve of her cheek, the graceful column of her neck, the sensitive glimmer in her pretty eyes. That picture might give someone the impression she was meek. But brother, would they be wrong. She had fire and passion beneath that calm exterior, and he couldn’t wait to awaken it fully.
Bodie lay on the floor, his chin propped on his hands, also riveted by the emotional story.
Reaching the end of the chapter, Ridge closed the book. “I need to take a walk around before I turn in.”
“I’ll come too.” Bodie got to his feet.
“Addie, I’ll be back in a little bit.” Ridge waited for her nod, then reached for his rifle over the mantel and went out.
The moon shone brightly, lighting up the ground. Ridge stood for a moment, listening to the sounds of night creatures. Everything appeared normal, but sometimes that fooled a man. “Bodie, you go around the house to the front. I’ll check farther up near the mesquite thicket.”
“Yes, sir.” The kid got his rifle from the barn and began his patrol, the darkness swallowing him.
Ridge moved away, his ears and eyes attuned to what belonged and what didn’t. A night hawk flew silently overhead, and a coyote howled in the distance. Despite appearances, something was off. His gut warned him as the hair stood on the back of his neck. He crept through the darkness, entering a world he’d had to learn well—the ugly side of survival, kill or be killed.
With Tiny and Pickens locked up before they got word to Ezekiel Jancy, it had to be Hiram, he felt.
The bounty hunter was close. The man’s evil greed reached, trying to burrow inside.
“Bodie, stay alert,” Ridge whispered into the slight breeze. A backward glance at the house, now fifty yards away, revealed soft lamplight shining through the windows where Addie waited.
Then he saw it—a hunched figure of a man running from the barn. Ridge couldn’t tell if it was Bodie or someone else. His gut screamed to hurry back to the house.
