Fate's Intervention (58 page)

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Authors: Barbara Woster

BOOK: Fate's Intervention
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Don

t worry, Matthew,

Mark said, his hand moving below his belt in what appeared to be a protective gesture,

I value the family jewels too much to let that little hellcat get a hold of them. Lesson learned there,

Mark laughed shortly, without humor.

You should have seen the fight she put up when I finally managed to sneak in through the kitchen door. Told her we were going for a ride, but she didn

t want to come. Tsk. Tsk. Had to
threaten
to pistol whip her old man if she didn

t.
T
hen he had to show up and I had to
threaten
to pistol whip
her
for
him
to come along meekly as well.

He turned his head so that Matthew could see the scratches lining the side of his face.

The
se are courtesy of her, by the way. I repaid that with a little gift of my own. It should take quite a while for the shiner on her jaw to disappear. Should have broken her nose like she tried to do mine, but I didn

t want you more mad at me than your expression tells me you are right now.

Matthew sat there staring at his brother incredulously. He was relating the details of his escapades as if he were at a social function, not like the madman
Nancy
described. Perhaps his calm stemmed from the secure knowledge that he

d bested his brother. Matthew wondered what changes would take place in his brother

s demeanor when he learned that he was the one bested.

All
Matthew needed to do was stall long enough for Brixton or the Indians to locate Marcelle and Peter and then he

d be able to deal with Mark as needed. His only concern was that
Mark
hid
them outside the
confines of the fort.

No, they were here. He had to believe that his brother wasn

t smart enough to put them elsewhere, nor was he familiar enough with this state, or the terrain . . . the hair on the back of his neck jumped to life and the knot in his stomach tightened.


How did you know how to find this place?

Matthew asked, his voice barely above a
whisper.


Very good, Brother,

Mark laughed, clapping his hands childishly.

I was wondering how long it would take
you
to figure out that I have my own reinforcements. Some local talent, obviously. They are the ones who recommended this old fort. It

s not only isolated, in case things get messy, but there are all kinds of places to hide a body
in which it
would take quite some time to find,

Mark said, and then laughed again at the look of surprise on Matthew

s face.

I know, bad form. But you didn

t really think I

d be foolish enough to face you alone, did you?

The sound of a rifle hammer sounded in Matthew

s ear and he mentally berated himself for being so naive. What he didn

t count on when he turned his head was to see Ed Brixton

s grinning face.


Thank
s for the extra ten dollars, Mister,

Ed laughed.

It sure will come in handy. Had you going there for a while, too, didn

t I?

He laughed, pretending to quake in his boots.

I should take up life on the stage. Sure had you fooled, sure

nough. Still can

t believe you paid me up front. Never,

he lectured, grinning,

ever pay a man until the job is done.


I

ll remember that,

Matthew said sarcastically.


Ten
dollars, eh?

Mark laughed.

He swindled you out of a pretty penny and he was working for me all along? Damn! That would make me feel a sight bit better if that ten dollars had been yours to give, but since you

re about to sign every dollar over to me, well, hell, that ten dollars could

ve bought me a fancy hotel room and a mighty-fine looking whore for a night

s
pleasure
. Think Marcelle will spread her legs for a few dollars?

Matthew started to rise and bash his brother

s face in, but the gun in the back of his head
reminded him of the dangers of being impulsive and he forced himself to calm down.


S
hoot,

Mark continued, ignoring his brother

s apparently increasing rage,

I

m surprised he didn

t turn traitor and really help you out of this predicament for that ten dollars. Hell of a lot of money.
I
t might be that he decided to stay loyal because I offered him an extra one hundred dollars if he delivered you promptly

and of course, as he

s better with a gun . . . ,

Mark reached into his coat pocket while he spoke and pulled out a pouch full of jingling coins and tossed it to Brixton.

It

s money well spent, wouldn

t you say? Now, back to business, shall we?


Now hold on there just a minute, Mister Daragh,

Brixton said, placing the money in his coat pocket. He motioned through the window for his companions to join him.

I figure since I

m the one holding the gun and the hostages, that maybe I should be the one that takes over these here negotiations. What do you think?

The two Indians came through the door, their guns pointed at the backs of Marcelle and Peter.


Matthew!

Marcelle
breathed
in relief and flung herself into Matthew

s arms. Peter joined them and patted Matthew on the back.


It

s good to see you son,

he said,

A
lthough
I

m sorry that you ended up being a part of this mess.


If it wasn

t for me, none of us would be in this sorry mess to begin with,

Matthew said bitterly.


The blame isn

t yours
, Matthew,

Marcelle said.

If it wasn

t this, then it would have been something else. I don

t think your brother is a sane man,

she whispered.


A
re
you okay,

he asked, gently raising her face and scanning the bruise that was already forming along the line of her jaw.


I

m fine,

she whispered, tears stinging her eyes.

A
t least I didn

t make things easy for him.


I love you,

Matthew said, and pulled her back into his embrace.

If anything happens,

he said after a moment,

you two hit the floor and stay there, okay?

He whispered while Brixton and Mark argued.

Maybe we

ll get lucky and they

ll shoot each other.


You can

t do this, Brixton,

Mark whined louder, drawing Matthew

s attention back to the disagreement.

I paid good money for your services.


You did at that,

Brixton grinned, signaling for the Indians to take hold of Marcelle and Peter once again,

but I figured there

s got to be a hell of a lot more where that come from, so . . . would you mind keeping it down a mite bit, ma

am. I wouldn

t want to shoot you before the negotiations were finished.

Marcelle stopped protesting and calmly moved to the other side of the room with her
father
.


Thank
you,

Brixton said politely, then turned his attention back to Mark and Matthew.

Now, as I was saying
.
I figure those two bodies over there are a sight more valuable than just a measly hundred fifteen dollars
. A
nd since each of you have your own
reasons
for wanting them: you want

em as leverage over your brother,

he said, pointing his rifle at Mark,

a
nd
you just plain want

em,

he continued, turning the barrel toward Matthew,

t
he
n I figure we

ll have ourselves an auction to see who bids highest for their return.


T
his is crazy!

Mark yelled.

I

ve already paid you good money, now keep the muzzle of that rifle aimed at my brother and make him sign these blasted papers.


A
ctually, Mr. Brixton,

Matthew said calmly, feeling a modicum of control return to his corner. He had to raise his voice a bit to be heard over his brother

s continued protestations, but if he could sway things in his favor, then he

d yell the roof down,

That
money my brother paid you is all he has. If you

ll look at those documents
lying
on the desk, you

ll see that I

m telling you the plain truth of the matter. That

s why he wanted me here so desperately. He wanted to force me to sign a document handing control of my fortune over to him. He

s also wanted for rape, murder, and attempted murder by the sheriff in
New York City
, so if you have a mind to take him into custody, there

s likely to be a generous bounty on his head.


Now, see here!

Mark yelled louder, snatching the papers away before Brixton could scan them any closer.


Well, that seemed like a mighty suspicious action, there, Mr. Daragh. Kind of adds credence to what your brother was saying about you being penniless, and if that be the case, then I

d say these here negotiations are over,

Brixton said. He laid his rifle aside with a command to one of the Indians to keep his rifle trained on Matthew, then removed a coil of rope from his belt and moved toward Mark.

No one saw the gun until a loud report sounded, reverberating off the wooden walls, startling the occupants. It only took one shot and then the sound of gunfire erupted from seemingly every corner of the small room.


Marcelle! Peter! Get down!

Matthew yelled above the din, then dropped to a prone
position for the second time that evening.

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