Ana Leigh (14 page)

Still puzzled by his continued hostility, she slapped the pistol from hand to hand, surprised to discover how heavy the weapon actually was.

“Okay, now cock the gun by pressing the hammer back with your thumb until you feel it lock.”

She found that was easier said than done. It took her several attempts before she succeeded in locking it.

“Remember, Rose, once you cock that gun, it can go off easily. Now release the hammer so that the weapon isn’t ready to fire, because you’re about to load it.”

Putting cartridges into the chamber turned it into a lethal weapon. Rose determinedly swallowed the lump in her throat when he handed her six cartridges.

“Just slide one into each empty chamber. You should always be aware of how many bullets are in the gun. And I’ll give you the same advice my father gave to me when he taught me how to shoot: never point a gun at anyone unless you’re prepared to fire it, and always reload your pistol after you’ve used it. A half-empty chamber can leave you one bullet short when you need it the most.”

“I shall keep that advice foremost in my mind.”

“Now, to make the weapon useful, you have to have a good eye and steady hand. Aim at that tree trunk and see if you can hit it. It’s a lot larger than the red circle on the target.”

“Will you cut me some slack, MacKenzie?” she snapped. “We won that darn contest, didn’t we?”

She cocked the gun, took careful aim, and fired. The bullet hit the ground at the base of the tree next to the one she was aiming at.

The corners of his lips twitched. “You’re going to have to work on this. Try it again.”

He moved behind her, and she sensed his nearness even before he put his arms around her. “Now, hold your arm steady and point the pistol at the tree.” He closed his hand over hers to steady her aim.

She loved feeling the warmth and strength of his hands. Blushing, she remembered the touch of them on her breasts. Then he stooped enough to help her line up the shot, and their cheeks touched. She was tempted to turn in the circle of his arms and—

“Go ahead, Rose.”

His voice jolted her out of her musing. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I said just gently squeeze the trigger.”

This time her bullet zipped past the tree. By her sixth try, she managed to hit some leaves on the tree she’d aimed at.

After another six shots, she managed to hit the tree. She sat down with a sense of accomplishment. Zach sat down beside her and took the pistol. He reloaded it, then returned it to its holster.

After a lengthy silence Rose said, “I can’t thank you enough, Zach. I don’t know why we can’t get help from the decent people in the town.”

“Ever think they might want to stay alive?”

“Why are you so angry with me, Zach? What did I do?”

“You’ve got the crazy notion that you and your girlfriends have a chance against gunfighters and outlaws. And how come it doesn’t bother you that your fancy boyfriend’s not doing anything about it?”

“It
does
bother me. I don’t understand how Stephen can ignore the problem. With his position, his influence could help make a big difference in bringing law and order to Brimstone.”

“Maybe he has a good reason for not riding to your aid,” Zach suggested darkly.

“What reason could he possibly have?”

“Maybe he doesn’t have a white horse.” Disgusted, he got up and walked over to the buggy. “Or maybe he’s not all you think he is.”

She jumped to her feet. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You ever stop to consider that Tait would have been long gone if Rayburn hadn’t hired him to hang around here?”

“Stephen was desperate. He had no choice.”

“There are plenty of honest cowpokes looking for jobs, Rose.”

“You’re just jealous, Zach. You’re justifying your life by criticizing his.”

“And maybe denying the truth is your way of justifying marrying a rich man instead of a poor one.”

Rose angrily climbed into the buggy. “Thank you again, Zach. I’m sorry I put you to so much trouble,” she said stiffly.

They didn’t speak to each other on the way back. He stopped at the boardinghouse and before she climbed out, Rose turned to him.

“I’m sorry we quarreled, Zach.”

“So am I. Listen, Rose, while I’m in town I’m staying in Room Four at the Long Horn. If you need me, you can find me there.”

“That would start a nice scandal if I walked into the Long Horn looking for you.”

“Take the back road—nobody’s ever on it—and go to the rear door. It opens into a storage room. Opposite that room is a stairway, and my room’s at the end of the hall upstairs.”

“Thanks for your offer of help, but I don’t think I’ll need to sneak into the back doors of saloons, Zach.”

“You never know. Take care, Redhead. And remember what I told you: watch your back. Looks like things are starting to heat up around here.”

She started up the porch stairs, stopped, and looked back. He was waiting until she reached the door.

Strangely enough, she felt as if it was their final good-bye.

Chapter 14

E
arly the next morning, Rose got up to make the trip to the Wilson farm. She was not looking forward to the ride. Melanie and Andrea’s experience yesterday made her edgy, and she jumped when there was a tap at her window. Anticipating who it might be, she parted the drapes.

“What are you doing here this time of morning, MacKenzie?” she asked.

“Who’s riding out for the eggs this morning?”

“Kate and I.”

“You gals stay here. I’ll do it for you,” he said.

“You’ll do nothing of the kind, Zach. This is our problem, and we can’t run from it. We’ll always be intimidated if we do.”

“That’s a noble attitude, but it can get you killed. Just once, will you do as I say, Rosie?”

“That’s ludicrous—I
always
end up doing what you say. If you insist again on having it your way, I’ll tell Kate not to come. But I’m going with you.”

“Well, there’s no sense in arguing. Let’s go, I’ve got the buggy in the front.”

“I’ll tell Kate and be right out,” she said.

Zach walked back to the buggy. Once Rose got an idea in her head, there was no getting it out. Normally, he liked that about her, because it always led to an exchange between them. But this time he was concerned about her safety. His dad was right: women had to be told the right way about something, or they balked. And the right way was to put the idea in their heads so that they believed they’d thought of it first—especially feisty redheads like Rose.

After last night, they had a lot to talk out. He figured he still held something of an upper hand—even if that hand was getting a little weak to lift. He couldn’t believe she’d go through with a crazy scheme like trying to outshoot outlaws.

She came out the door looking as fresh as a morning glory, and wearing that big hat she liked to wear, her hair loose down her back. The more he saw her, the more he wanted her. Like it or not, they were involved, all right. No use in crying over spilled milk.

“It’s a shame an armed guard is necessary to get a few eggs,” she complained as they rode along.

Ordinarily he’d enjoy the ride sitting next to her, but wondering if any moment someone would take a shot at them kept him on the edge of his seat.

“I’m sure those outlaws you associate with are behind these incidents. Matter of fact, I don’t know why I should trust you, since you’re one of them.”

“Rosie, I am not an outlaw.”

“You’re the next best thing to one—a drifter.”

“Are you going to carp the whole damn trip?” he asked. “Why don’t you just relax and listen to the birds chirping?”

“Are you always so crotchety in the mornings, MacKenzie?”

“I
love
mornings!”

She shut up. He knew her grousing was just trying to cover up her nervousness. And if Tait was behind the shootings, she had every right to be nervous. He had it in for these Harvey Girls—particularly Rose. And if Rayburn was linked to Tait in this cattle rustling, as he suspected, Rose would be in even greater danger.

He fretted on that thought until they reached the Wilson farm. The barn doors were closed and barred when they drove up.

“I’m surprised Calvin and Effie didn’t come out to greet us,” Rose exclaimed. She climbed down from the wagon and walked up to the house. “Mr. Wilson? Mrs. Wilson?” She knocked on the door. When there was no answer, she looked at Zach and shrugged. “They must be gone.”

“Would they go away without telling you?” he asked.

“Not likely; they know we come every morning. Come to think of it, I didn’t see them at the celebration, either.”

Zach began to feel uneasy. He climbed down from the wagon. “Maybe they simply forgot to tell you they were going away.”

“I don’t think so. They’re too considerate to make us ride out here on a wild-goose chase.”

“There’s no smoke coming out of the chimney.”

Rose looked up at the roof and nodded. “You’re right. Do you suppose they’re ill?”

“Let’s find out.” Zach turned the doorknob, and when the door opened, he stepped in. He recognized the stench at once. Lord knows he’d smelled it enough times. “Dear God,” he murmured. The old man was in a chair, his head slumped on the table. He’d been shot in the back. His wife lay on the floor in front of the fireplace. “Don’t come in here, Rose.”

His warning came too late. She’d already entered behind him. “Oh, no-o-o,” she shrieked, and raised her hands to her mouth in horror. He put his arms around her and tried to shield her from the sight.

Zach led her outside and held her for a long moment. “Can you stay here, honey, while I examine them?” She nodded, sobbing softly.

He went through the useless task of checking their pulses, but knew by the dried bloodstains on the floor that they’d been dead for a while.

“Wha-what should we do?” she asked when he rejoined her.

“There’s nothing we can do for them, Rose, except go back to town and report it.”

“You mean just leave them like this?”

He slipped his arm around her shoulders and led her to the buggy. “Honey, we can’t do anything now. It’s a matter for the sheriff.”

Rose was desolate with grief. “I don’t understand how anyone could do such a heinous thing to those two dear people. Do you think it was Indians?”

“The Indian wars have been over for years out here.”

“Then who, Zach?”

The image of Jess Tait’s face sprang to his mind. “Evil’s not exclusive to a particular skin color, Rose.”

“I just don’t understand such evil. How can anyone be that merciless?”

“Some people are just born that way. None of us has the luxury of determining what course our life will take.”

Appalled, she asked, “Are you defending the likes of anyone who would commit such an act?”

“Of course not. But there will always be men like that—the Jess Taits of the world.”

“Do you think Tait did this?”

“I don’t know, Rose,” he said soberly.

She turned on him angrily. “But knowing how he is, you’re still willing to associate with him. That makes you as guilty as he is.”

“Guilt by association? Be fair. Sometimes the circumstances in a person’s life lead him to make choices that aren’t always the best. You chose Sturges, didn’t you? I chose Tait. We end up having to live with the results of those choices for a long time.”

They rode in wretched silence the rest of the way back to Brimstone.

* * *

Sheriff Bloom and his deputy, Jed Wringer, were seated in front of the jailhouse when Zach pulled up; neither of them got to their feet when he told them of the deaths of the Wilsons.

Bloom was a squatty, bowlegged man with a belly that bulged over his gunbelt, owing to a preference for food and cold beer and an aversion to physical activity.

Jed Wringer, who happened to be the nephew of Bloom’s wife, was physically the opposite: tall and skinny, he looked like a good wind could blow him away.

It was safe to assume that neither man would ever die in the line of duty.

“Me and Jed’ll have a ride out to take a look,” Bloom said.

“And just when do you intend to do that, Sheriff?” Rose asked, exasperated that neither one had moved since informed of the deaths.

“Well, since Cal and Effie are dead, there ain’t much I can do ’cept bury ’em. We’ll ride out there after lunch.”

“Aren’t you going to form a posse, Sheriff, and try to track down whoever murdered them?” Zach asked.

“You said they looked to have been dead for some time. Reckon whoever killed them is long gone. Most likely that gang of cattle rustlers.”

“The Wilsons didn’t have any cattle to rustle, Sheriff Bloom. They raised chickens!”

“I knowed they raised chickens, Miz Dubois,” he replied with a disgruntled look. “That don’t mean them rustlers couldn’t have killed them.”

“Or maybe a fox stealing into the coop did it,” Rose said sarcastically.

“Sheriff Bloom, you have a responsibility to this community. Two law-abiding citizens have been brutally murdered, and you aren’t making any attempt to pursue the culprit.”

“Told you, Miz Dubois, they wuz most likely killed by cattle rustlers. Every rancher around these parts been out lookin’ for ’em. If Rayburn and his crew can’t track ’em down, what makes you think I can?”

“Because I don’t think they were killed by cattle rustlers!”

He gave her a condescending look. “Now, now, Missy, no call to get worked up. You go back to slinging hash and leave this kind of work to men.”

Seething with anger and frustration, Rose clenched her teeth to keep from screaming as Zach drove to the livery. “I can’t believe the ignorance of those men! They didn’t seem the least bit disturbed about the Wilsons’ deaths. I intend to tell Mr. Harvey that Brimstone is no place for a Harvey restaurant.”

When informed of the Wilsons’ deaths Everett Billings expressed his regrets, but Rose thought he seemed more concerned that they didn’t have any fresh eggs for breakfast. Or maybe the events of the past few days had just driven her over the edge. Regardless, his attitude only added to her irritation.

Word of the murders spread through the community and throughout the day, the few law-abiding citizens stopped by to hear the story firsthand from Rose.

The next morning the Harvey Girls trudged to work, more leery of Brimstone than ever before.

Zach had disappeared shortly after they’d returned to town yesterday, and as much as Rose yearned to speak to him, she was relieved when the gang didn’t show up for breakfast.

However, she was pleasantly surprised when Stephen Rayburn arrived on the lunch train. Rose was reminded of how handsome and distinguished the rancher was when he came in and sat down at one of the tables. Since they had to get the customers fed and out of the restaurant in thirty minutes, she didn’t have time to do much more than say hello.

Stephen remained behind when the other customers departed, and Rose sat down at his table. “Welcome back, Stephen.”

“It’s good to be back, Rose. I missed you.”

With a guilty start, she realized she hadn’t missed him at all. Zach had monopolized her free time.

“I came to an important decision, Rose. Unfortunately, I must get to the ranch, but may I call on you Saturday? I have a question to ask you that will affect both of our lives.”

“I’d like that, Stephen.”

He was going to ask her to marry him—her hopes had finally come true. But oddly, rather than feeling jubilant, she was struck with depression.

“Then I’ll call for you Saturday afternoon at two o’clock,” he said. “Until then, my dear.” He kissed her hand and hurried away.

Rose walked to the door and saw Stephen ride away with the Lazy R riders. Zach was among them.