Give My Love to Rose (41 page)

“
That’s fine with me,” she
assured Jeremiah.

He nodded. “Kaitlyn is already downstairs
cleaning,” he added before slipping back out the door.

Rose sighed. She knew that was code for ‘get
your backside out of the bed’. She stood from the bed and slid on
the blue dress that had always been Marston’s favorite. She laid
her hand over her stomach which was beginning to swell a bit under
her skirts.

Rose slipped into her shoes and left the
room, knowing that the only reason she was carrying on was because
she had promised Marston she would when the law had taken him
away.

***

Marston slid into the clean shirt that Duke
had given him. “I’m out of here,” Marston growled.

“
But my shack will be so
lonely without you,” Snelly complained from where she rocked beside
the fire. “How will I fill the silence without your bitching and
moaning?”

Marston laughed. “I’ll just have to get
myself shot again and come visit soon.”

That seemed to satisfy Snelly and she smiled
before going back to the knitting in her lap. Duke tossed a sack at
Marston. “Put all this on and I’ll go get the horses saddled.”

Marston poured out the sack and a hat, gun
belt, revolver and bowie knife tumbled onto the bed. Marston
frowned. “Where did you get all this and a second horse?”

Duke grinned. “Does it matter?”

Marston found himself chuckling. “No, I
don’t guess it does.”

Duke left the shack and Marston took his
time strapping on the weapons. He rolled his shoulders once his
task was completed and winced. The skin on his back was tight and
it still pained him to move but Snelly assured him the wounds were
closed and as long as he took it fairly easy they should remain
that way.

The biggest trouble Marston had was with his
aching right hand. He’d done a number on it when he’d sent it
crashing into the stone wall. He had a feeling he’d never be able
to use the thing quite the same as he had before but he wasn’t too
concerned about that—his left worked just as well.

All in all, he felt fit and healthy and more
than ready to get back to his wife and children. There was only one
stop he needed to make before he went and he knew Duke wouldn’t be
too happy about it.

***

“
You want to what?!” Duke
demanded as the two men stood on the porch a short time
later.

“
I want to go back to
Millerton,” Marston repeated.

“
Why in the holy hell
would you want to do that?” Duke asked, his voice tight.

Marston raised his brow. “Since when is hell
holy?”

Duke’s eyes narrowed. “Just answer the damn
question.”

Marston sighed. “I want to make sure they
believed I was dead and I want to kill that good for nothing
Marshall.”

“
I’ll do it for you,” Duke
insisted. “You don’t need to be riding around
Millerton.”

Marston bristled. “I’m not asking your
permission. If you don’t want to come that’s fine but this is
something I need to do and I’m going to do it myself.”

Duke glared at Marston before shaking his
head and grumbling under his breath. “I guess I understand… But if
you get yourself caught again I’m not saving you this time.
Understood?”

Marston grinned. “Understood. My ass is my
own responsibility. Don’t worry, Duke, I ain’t gonna get caught
again. Now that I know that Rose and the children are safe and
hidden, the Marshall won’t find me nearly as cooperative.”

***

“
See? I told you Marston
Jacob’s is a dead man.”

“
That is a really
disturbing thing to see,” Marston admitted, staring down at the
wooden cross with his name carved into it. Graves surrounded them
and a shiver ran down Marston’s spine as light rain misted down
upon them. It was dark and the streets of the quiet town were
silent.

“
I did good if I say so
myself,” Duke boasted. “They never knew the difference between you
and this man.”

“
You wouldn’t happen to
know what his name is would you?” Marston asked, tilting his head
toward the cross.

Duke shrugged. “Dead Guy?”

Marston chuckled but forced himself to stop
quickly when he remembered that this wasn’t a laughing matter.
“That works.” Marston pulled off his hat. “Thank you, dead guy, for
allowing Duke to kill you so that….”

“
Did I mention that I
whipped him too?” Duke interjected.

“
While he was alive?”
Marston demanded.

Duke shrugged. “I was drunk and I wanted it
to look authentic….” He shrugged. “Beyond that my reasoning was
clouded.”

Marston placed his hat back on his head and
rubbed at his freshly shaven face. “Thank you, dead guy, for
getting whipped and then killed so that I could make an escape and
go be with my family—” Marston paused and glanced at Duke. “He
didn’t have a family did he?”

Duke shrugged again and Marston wondered if
that’s all he knew how to do. “I don’t know if he had a family or
not. We didn’t exactly have a conversation. If he did they’ll
probably be happy to be rid of him. He reeked of whiskey when he
came stumbling out of the whores room at the brothel.”

“
What were you doing at a
brothel?”

Duke grinned. “What would you do at a
brothel?”

“
Nothing. I’m a married
man.”

“
Well before you got
boring, what would you have done at a brothel?” Duke
amended.

Marston snorted with disbelief. “So you were
drinking and sleeping with whores? Where exactly did I fall on your
priority list… and something else that’s been bugging me. If that
executioners knot had worked, I would have died long before you
sent them cows to the gallows.”

Duke laughed heartily and patted Marston on
the back—Marston hissed in pain and punched Duke solidly in the
jaw. Duke stumbled back and glared at Marston. “Would you stop
punching me? I’m over fifty years old!”

Marston shrugged. “Don’t piss me off.”

Duke rubbed at his face. “I knew the knot
wouldn’t work, you bastard. I’m the one that altered the knot so it
wouldn’t snap your neck.”

Marston grinned sheepishly. “Well, thanks
for that then.”

Duke nodded. “Now what are you going to call
yourself? You can’t very well keep going by Marston Jacobs.”

Marston stared down at his grave marker for
a long time while rain collected on the brim of his hat. Duke
cleared his throat. “I was thinking something like Phillip….”

Marston winked mischievously. “Jacob
Marston.”

Duke’s eyes widened. “Are you really that
big of a cocky bastard?”

Marston laughed. “You know damn well I
am.”

“
Well let’s go then,
Jacob. We got a few weeks of riding before we reach the
family.”

“
Not yet,” Marston pulled
his hat lower. “I’ve gone one more thing to do in town.”

“
You better not be sloppy
this time,” Duke warned.

Marston’s fists clenched. “I oughta punch
you again for saying that. I’m one of the best damn outlaws that’s
ever lived.”

“
Except now you’re
dead.”

Marston grinned. “Well, that just makes me
even better. Now, I’m gonna go kill that Marshall and we’ll head
out for home.”

Duke chuckled. “Spoken like a true family
man. Let’s go murder someone before we got get some bedtime kisses
from the family.”

Marston ignored Duke and slipped silently
through the shadows. The streets were deserted this late at night
as he made his way to the jail with Duke on his boot heels. Marston
rolled his eyes. He had no idea what had gotten into Duke lately to
make the man so protective, but he was ready for the bastard to
back off.

Marston peaked through the window of the
jail office and saw Marshall Montgomery sitting behind his desk.
The man was slumped in the chair and sound asleep. The wispy hairs
of his blond mustache were dancing in time with his light
snores.

Marston felt hatred in its purest form
burning in his gut. Sitting there with his legs propped up on his
desk and his arms crossed on his belly was the man who dared
threaten his family. The man who had beaten and whipped him.
Marston grinned. Marshall Montgomery was not going to live to
regret the mistakes he had made.

Marston motioned for Duke to get around the
side wall and out of sight. Stepping to the door, Marston knocked
and stood to the side so he wouldn’t be visible through the
peephole. He heard the Marshall’s chair scrape against the floor
and his footsteps came to the door.

“
Who’s out there?” the
Marshall called.

Marston pulled his knife and remained
silent. When the door opened, Marston sprang forward and the
Marshall’s eyes widened when his knife sank deep into his
chest.

Marston used the force of their impact to
propel their bodies backward and slam the Marshall back into his
chair. “Remember me?” Marston growled, driving the knife
deeper.

“
You’re…dead…” the
Marshall gasped, tears gathering in his dying eyes.

Marston grinned. “Like I said, Marshall, you
better be praying like hell that men like you and me stand a chance
with God cuz you’re about twenty seconds away from meeting
him.”

“
Why…?”

A low rumbling chuckle left Marston’s chest.
“You have to ask? You threatened my family, you son of a bitch, and
no one threatens my family. I just had to rise from the dead and
make sure you understood that.”

Marston twisted the knife and yanked the
knife from the Marshall’s chest with a wet plopping sound.
Warmblood gushed from the wound, covering Marston’s hand. Marston
watched as the Marshall grew pale and his breaths turned
shallow.

The fear in the man’s eyes grew weaker and
weaker and then it died completely as the Marshall took one last
shuddering breath and then breathed no more.

Marston wiped his hand and knife clean on
the Marshall’s shirt before turning to see Duke standing in the
doorway with a proud smile on his face. “You still got it.”

“
Were there any doubts?”
Marston asked.

“
A few,” Duke
admitted.

Both men laughed, but the sound fell silent
when a boot shuffled on the other side of the door to the cell
hall. Marston put his finger to his lips which caused Duke to roll
his eyes. The door to the hall opened and Marston barely managed to
stop Duke before the man pulled his gun and shot Pete dead.

The young deputy was pale as he glanced at
the dead body beside the desk. “You killed the Marshall.”

Marston nodded. “Yeah.”

Pete swallowed hard and met Marston’s gaze
full force. “He deserved it. I’ve been looking into things since
your hanging and he deserved it and more.”

Marston sighed. “The only problem now is
that I have a witness. What should I do about that?”

Pete held his gaze bravely. “You should
probably kill me, but you don’t have to. I won’t say a word to
anyone. I knew you weren’t dead. I saw that man get you down and
leave with you, but I kept my mouth shut because I respect you,
Marston, and I still do.”

Marston studied the boy a few moments and
then nodded. “Fair enough.”

“
Marston, are you
forgetting that leaving witnesses is what got you in this mess to
begin with?” Duke grumbled.

Marston glared at the man. “Duke, I
appreciate you helping me, but you’re beginning to piss me
off.”

Duke threw his hands in the air and left the
jail. Marston growled. For as long as Marston had known him, Duke
had never acted like he gave two hoots in hell about Marston or
anyone else. Now suddenly Duke was saving his life, having his back
and acting like a friend… Marston shivered. He wasn’t sure he liked
this new relationship.

“
I’ll let you live, Pete,”
Marston said. “I trust you.”

Relief caused Pete’s shoulders to sag.
“Thanks, Marston. I appreciate it.” The deputy shoved his hand into
his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it out
and Marston took the letter he’d written for Rose so long ago in
his hand. “I figured you might want it back.” Pete shrugged. “You
can give it to her yourself now.”

Marston nodded and shook Pete’s hand. “It
was an honor to know you, Pete.”

“
You too, Marston,” Pete
replied, wincing at the strength in Marston’s hand. “And I didn’t
see a thing here tonight.”

Marston winked, tipped his hat and stepped
out onto the porch. “You done kissing your lover boy in there?”
Duke grumbled, his hands deep in his pockets as he stared out at
the rainy night.

Marston came to stand beside him. “Why, you
jealous?”

Duke snorted. “Hell no. You’re a prickly
bastard.”

Marston chuckled and patted the older man on
the back. “You coming to the Dakotas with me?”

“
Of course I am.” Duke
smiled thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t miss out on a chance to look at
Rose.”

It was Duke’s turn to laugh as Marston’s
expression turned dark. “It’ll be hard for you to look at her if I
cut out your eyes.”

Duke just laughed harder. “I’d say it would,
Marston. I’d say it would.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“
Did you see that, mama! I
blasted a hole straight through that target! I can’t believe I just
did that! It must be because I’m using pa’s rifle. I’ll bet that’s
it.”

Rose barely glanced at her son as she
continued hanging clothes on the line. Her mood was dark today.

“
You’re damn near as good
a shot as your pa was too,” Jeremiah agreed proudly.

Rose didn’t miss the happy smile that split
Langley’s face and she was quick to grab up one of Kaitlyn’s skirts
and hang it in front of her so that Jeremiah and Langley wouldn’t
see her pained expression.