by Linda Broday
“Did they take the wagon when they rode out?”
“Yes. They hitched our horses to it because they’d run theirs into the ground.”
“When did this take place?” Almost a month had passed since Clay ran the trio from the town. Of course, Eagle Springs was a week’s ride from Devil’s Crossing.
Susan drew her brows together in thought. “It took days burying my family, and another two, or maybe it was three, deciding what to do.” She gave Clay a wan, apologetic smile. “In my grief, it’s difficult to remember these details. I’ve been sleeping under the stars for five nights. The killings must’ve been about ten days or so, best I can recall.”
That sounded about right. As shot up as Pete and Otis said they left them, the trio would’ve had to hole up for a while and doctor themselves before attempting to ride very far. Now, they were probably in a hurry to get back to Stephenville and Creedmore, where they could hide within the thick stone walls of the fortress. He stood, guilt rushing through him. The Worth men’s blood was on his hands. They’d still be alive if he’d simply killed Tarver and his bunch when they’d ridden into Devil’s Crossing. This was his mess to clean up.
“You’ve just hired yourself an avenger, Mrs. Worth. I’ll ride out at dawn.”
He was going hunting—and this time he’d relish killing the bastards. Clay would find justice for Tally and Susan Worth if it was the last thing he ever did.
* * *
Later that afternoon, a little over two weeks from the day that Dr. Mary had begun the process of removing the Creedmore tattoo, Tally sat in the doctor’s tent once more. All day, she’d felt the skin pulling at the place on her cheek. She dared not get her hopes of success too high. Bitter disappointment in the past had taught her that the world could play dirty tricks on a person.
“Well? Is it ready?”
Dr. Mary had removed the bandage but had yet to say anything. “The plug has come out. Does it hurt?”
“Not as bad as at the first. Can I see?”
Dr. Mary held out the gauze on which a blackened piece of skin lay. Tally touched it, amazed how much it resembled a piece of burnt leather. Her heart raced and panic swept through her. “Oh God! What does my face look like? Did it leave a hole?”
Would Clay want a wife with grotesque features? Had she done the right thing? Could Rebel help her looks at all? And if she couldn’t?
The doctor handed her a small mirror. “See for yourself. It still has a great deal of healing to do, and the amount of scarring will depend on keeping aloe vera sap on it, so it doesn’t become dry.”
Holding her breath, Tally held up the mirror. The tattoo proclaiming her property of Creedmore was gone, and in its place was a very angry patch of skin. She went to the tent opening to get a better look, and calm filled her. It wasn’t like the rest of her face, but it wasn’t that bad. Maybe one day people wouldn’t be able to tell what had been there.
“I expected far worse.” Tally turned and sat back down. “I’m relieved to have the mark off.” She plucked a tubular stalk from the aloe vera plant growing in a pot, broke it open, and smeared the sticky sap over the wound. It stung, bringing tears to her eyes, but then felt soothing.
“I’m pleased with the results.” Dr. Mary’s bullet necklace clinked with her movements. “Frankly, I didn’t know how this would turn out.”
“Thank you.” Tally hugged her. “You’ve given me back my life. As soon as I can, I’ll let the other women know that they have a chance to get rid of theirs, if they choose. I have to show Clay.”
She found him talking to Jack and Ridge about plans to stock the mercantile and furnish the hotel. When he saw her, he broke away and strode to her.
“Notice anything?”
“Only a very beautiful woman who makes me weak in the knees.” His eyes softened, his gaze taking in the raw patch of skin. “It’s gone. I can’t believe it. Does it hurt?”
“I won’t lie. But it was worth every bit of pain.”
He hugged her tightly, his mouth finding hers. The long, deep kiss settled in her soul like silt in a riverbed.
Tally slid her arms around him, inhaling the scent of the man she loved. Her world was almost perfect. Only one thing stood between her and complete and utter happiness—Slade Tarver.
When Clay broke the kiss, Tally stayed in his arms. She saw worry in his eyes. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
He relayed Susan’s tale and that he had to go after Tarver and the other two. “I can’t turn a blind eye. I can’t live with myself if I don’t fix my mistake.”
“I wouldn’t want you if you didn’t. Each man has to live by the rules he sets down for himself.” She patted his vest. “You’re a good, decent man, and the code of justice inside you calls you to make the world a safer place. You can no more stop being who you are than quit breathing.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“You have to be you.” She brushed her lips lightly across his, but worry gripped her. To lose Clay would be like losing her heart. “I’ll never ask you to be someone else. When will you leave?”
“Morning. I have to make preparations. Even if I left last week, I couldn’t catch them before they reached Creedmore anyway. Too much time has passed.”
“I agree. I’m glad we have tonight.” And she’d make it count.
“Excuse me while I speak to Luke and Houston.” Clay gave her a quick kiss and went toward the two Legend brothers.
Tally went to find Rebel, and together they went to Tally’s trunk, where Tally pulled out two plain dresses—one of muslin and one calico. “I didn’t forget. These are yours if you still want them.”
Rebel’s smile was blinding. “Of course I do. Now let’s see about hiding your scar. I’m glad you removed that awful tattoo.”
For the next hour, Rebel taught her how to lightly dab cream from a jar onto her face and smooth it in. “What is this cream?” Tally asked.
“A concoction I make myself from almonds, butternut, and goldenrod. I’ll teach you how.” Rebel smoothed it around the edges of the wound until it hid a good portion. “Once this heals, it will be easier and take less time,” Rebel explained.
“I’m happy with it now. Do you think Clay will notice?”
Rebel winked. “That man notices everything where you’re concerned. He can hardly take his eyes from you.” She opened up a small tin filled with a firm, rose-colored substance and put a tiny portion on her fingertip, then dabbed it on Tally’s cheeks and lips, staining them a soft rose.
The results stunned Tally. Her skin was smooth except for the redness of the wound.
“The trick is to use very little where no one can tell. You simply want to enhance, not change totally. Remember that.” Rebel put her jars away and went to change into one of the dresses Tally had given her.
Satisfied, Tally turned in search of Josie and found her in the dugout nursing the baby. “You wanted to know what my face would look like once this bandage came off.”
Josie squealed, startling little Elena, who let out a cry. She put the babe on her shoulder and rose. “I’ve got to get a good look.” She came closer to study the wound. “You know, when the red fades and the skin smooths over, no one will be able to see any difference in the left and the right. I’m so happy for you. Was it very bad?”
“The procedure was extremely painful but I have no regrets.”
No one owned her. Not Creedmore, not Tarver. Not even Clay. She could determine her own fate. A headiness swept over her. The long nightmare was almost over. Clay was going to take down Tarver, and she was going with him. Only one task remained after that.
God help her, a reckoning was coming. One day, Lucinda Shannon would pay for her crimes.
* * *
The mood was somber around the fire that night. The looming fight weighed heavily on the men’s minds as
they passed a bottle of whiskey around the circle.
“I’m going with you.” Jack delivered the statement in a voice that could’ve sliced through steel. “We’ll teach the murdering, godforsaken bastards not to mess with us. They need killing for what they did to Tally and those women alone. And because of them, Mrs. Worth has lost everything and everyone.”
“Count me in,” Dallas Hawk growled, clenching his hands.
Skeet Malloy stood with his long-barreled six-shooter in hand. “I’m coming.”
Everyone around the fire added their sentiments. All were ready to ride, to help Tally and Susan.
“Hold on.” Clay held his hands out. “I appreciate you wanting to go along, but you can’t. We’re not going to leave these women and my daughter alone here and unprotected. I need you to stay behind and finish the interior of these buildings and start stocking them with supplies and furnishings. My Remington is the only help I need.”
“Beg your pardon, but you’re not an army.” Skeet sat back down.
“No, but the element of surprise can put the odds in my favor. Number one, they won’t expect me to appear in their domain. Number two, I can sneak in before they know I’m there.” Clay hoped that would be the case. “If all of you ride up to the door with guns blazing, Tarver and his bunch will start killing the women. My way, I can get the women out before the shooting starts.” And then, whatever fate had in store for him, no one else would suffer.
The fire crackled and popped. Somewhere in the night, an owl hooted.
Houston Legend spoke up. “I know I don’t have a dog in this fight, but Clay’s right. You can’t leave the town unguarded. I’ve ridden beside him, seen his skill. No one fights better or smarter. Luke will tell you the same thing.”
Montana hobbled from his living quarters and listened without saying a word. Clay cut his eyes to the man. What the hell was he up to?
“I know what Houston’s saying to be true,” Luke said. “Colby can whip any one of you, and he’ll have no trouble with that bunch from Creedmore.” Luke declined a swig from the bottle being passed. “On another subject, we’re leaving at dawn, which will cut your numbers. Wish we could stay longer, but we need to get back to the Lone Star. We’ve given you a good start on this town. Don’t let it go to waste.”
“You can bet that won’t happen.” Clay signaled to Dallas to lift his fiddle, rose, and went to Violet. “Let’s dance, baby girl.”
A grin covered Violet’s face from ear to ear. “How did you know I wanted to, Daddy?”
“Daddies know everything.” He set her feet on his boots and held her tight.
Hopefully, his laughter covered the deep sadness inside him. He was smart enough to know that he might not make it back. This might be the last time he had to show his daughter the love he had for her.
“Yep, I think they do.” She hummed softly as they swayed to the music. “And they know how to keep the people they love safe. Would you shoot someone if they hurt me?”
Clay glanced down into her sightless eyes. If anyone hurt his daughter, he’d kill them without blinking and feed them to the buzzards. He swallowed his anger and kept his voice even. “No one’s going to hurt you, baby girl. Me and everyone else in this town will make sure of that.”
“I’m glad.”
He finished the dance, wondering why Violet feared for her life now. It had to be Mrs. Worth’s coming that had triggered it, and he vowed to watch what he said. The last note of the waltz died, and he took her back to join the women.
Rebel took Travis’s hand and they whirled off.
For a moment, Clay took in Tally’s beautiful features, her face touched by the flickering light. He would use his last night to hold her. He held out his hand. “Dallas is playing our song.”
She stood and smoothed her skirt. “I didn’t know we had one.”
Clay grinned and pulled her flush against him, hoping to banish the worry in her eyes. “Anything that I can move my feet to always gets my vote.”
Tally laughed. “That’s what I thought.”
He held her tightly, the curves of her luscious body pressing against him. The ends of her hair brushing his hand were a little damp from her recent shower, and the smell of lavender drifted around him.
He could dance with her forever, this woman who held his heart.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave at daybreak,” he murmured in her ear, gliding, sweeping smoothly across the ground. He held her like the precious, rare china that she was, drawing her tightly to him, soaking up every inch of her.
Tonight he’d create a memory they both could keep—just in case this was all they had.
Couples moved around them. Luke and Josie waltzed slowly nearby, as did Rebel with Travis Lassiter. He was surprised to see Dr. Mary accept Ridge’s hand.
“I’m coming with you, Clay.” Tally leaned back to stare up at him.
“Not on your life.”
“You don’t think I can handle myself? Is that it?”
“You know it isn’t. It’s just too dangerous. As much as I’d like to have you with me, it’s better if you stay here. Violet needs you.”
Tally had a mulish tilt to her chin that he recognized. “Look, Clay. Like it or not, you’ll need me to get Tarver and his bunch. I know every square inch of that place. I know where they sleep, and the places they’ll set up an ambush. Without the things I know about that place, how to get in, how to move around, they’ll slaughter you.”
“No. It’s asking them to capture and torture you again.” He paused in the deep shadows where the firelight couldn’t reach and slid his fingers across her jaw and down her throat. “I can do this better alone.”
Where he could focus once and for all on killing the bastards and burning Creedmore to the ground.
As though she could read his thoughts, her voice rose. “I need to get the rest of those women out and you cannot do that alone. They trust me and will follow my instructions.”
She did make a strong argument, but he’d find a way to succeed. He had to. He wouldn’t have time to throw the women over his shoulder and carry each one out individually. And if one screamed…
But even that possibility didn’t change Clay’s mind. “No.”
Damn her! Why couldn’t she see this was foolish and that she was no match for those Creedmore bastards? Hadn’t she learned anything? Sweat formed on his palms just thinking about their level of violence as he tightened his hold around her and swept her away in the waltz once more. They glided effortlessly in large circles, Tally’s pretty dress, a new one he’d bought her, swishing against the legs of his trousers.
Clay twirled her under his arm and pulled her close, his mouth next to her ear. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Tally tensed, her voice brittle. “No, we’ll clear the air now. Why are you always so hell-bent on doing everything yourself, refusing to ask for help? Building this town, finding the right people to live here, making sure we have enough to eat, a place to sleep? Why are you determined to raid Creedmore alone, going in blind? Why, Clay?”
“Simple. Nothing works without someone pushing it. I have to make things happen. I’ll take care of Creedmore. I have to rescue those women.” He had to atone for those he let die in Vicksburg. He hit back with, “Why are you still unable to trust me? Admit that you’re only marking time until spring. That you have one foot out the door waiting for a reason to leave.”
Her eyes widened and she looked as if he’d slapped her. “I have no choice. The past delivered hard lessons.”
“That’s right and you’re never going to let me forget it. Everyone among us here has suffered, bled, spent sleepless nights. All of us.” The minute the words left Clay’s mouth, he wanted to call them back, to apologize. But she jerked from his grasp.
“Leave.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, his heart breaking. “It’
s what you do best.”
Tally gave a cry and ran into the darkness, leaving him alone, angry words ringing in his ears like a funeral dirge.
Twenty-seven
Tally read a story to Violet, then slept alone in their unfinished house, her arms aching for Clay. She had no idea where he’d bedded down, or if he sought sleep. Wherever he was, he was sure to seek the company of a bottle to silence those demons in his head. She knew, come daybreak, they’d have more harsh words, because he wasn’t going to stop her from riding along.
Not this time.
Tears ran down her face and she bit back sobs, not wanting to wake Violet, who would be sure to ask questions. Her fight with Clay had revealed deep cracks in their marriage. All the accusations he’d leveled at her were true. What she’d gone through wasn’t much different from everyone else here. They all dealt with dark pasts. Rebel had her share. Clay had hinted at darkness he was unable to bear. Jack, Ridge, Dallas, Skeet, Susan Worth—they’d all endured the worst life could throw at them.
Who was she to say her pain was worse than theirs?
An inability to trust. That was really what lay underneath it all. How did she go about believing in Clay totally without doubt and having full confidence in him? Tally sighed and wiped away a tear. This loneliness was unbearable.
Why couldn’t she relinquish this need to control?
Until Clay, it had always been just her. In Deliverance Canyon, she’d had to be the protector, and now it seemed turning loose of that and letting him assume that role was impossible.
The sudden stab of pain in her chest wasn’t from heart damage. No, this was anxiety over the fight and the angry words. Tally clutched her chest, praying it would pass quickly. The squeezing tightness burned like pure fire, closing the narrow passage of her throat, cutting off air. She didn’t know how long she lay there until she could relax and it passed.
At last, she let sleep take her and she dreamed of the musty halls and black stone rooms of Creedmore. Danger lurked in every corner and the success of their mission appeared uncertain. Shadows stalked the place of torture. Women’s cries sprang from every crevice.
