Little Sam's Angel (13 page)

* * *

At the same time, other things were disturbing for Sammy. News from Pierce on the sale of her cattle was late in coming. Word she would have been eager to get otherwise, she looked forward to with dread because it meant she'd have to pay Gabe, and he and Danny would be leaving. She wanted to ask him to stay, racked with feelings of guilt and selfishness in taking a house that he had turned into a home. She wanted to offer it to him, but she knew what he'd say. Damn him for being so proud, and damn her for having so much land he considered her too good for him to even associate with.

She knew he avoided her every chance he got, so she never gave him a reason and stayed away from the homestead. She fretted over not hearing from Pierce, almost wishing something had happened so she wouldn't have the money to pull herself out of debt and redeem, not only the claim that Gabe held, but the claims her other men held as well. Even with the cattle money, she'd have very little cash left for the coming year once they were paid off. A lot of hard work was the only thing that would save it, but then she was used to that. Work at keeping the ranch whole never seemed to end, and nothing ever seemed to get easier.

Years before, Sammy had realized that men either wanted her for what she had or stayed away because of it, the way Gabe did. When her father died, she tried to get Morey to take all but the claim Gabe held, and he'd refused.

She didn't want the whole of the ranch, and she couldn't in good conscience get rid of it. Morey, who had worked for her father all her life, was the only one who had a right to it in her reasoning. It was fair to give it to Morey as he had given his life to the ranch. To just give it to anyone else would be breaking the trust her father put in her. There were ways she could lose it, but she was too smart and experienced not to see them in time, and out of that sense of responsibility and duty, avoided them.

She was bogged in a mire of quicksand, holding her in place against her will and forbidding the things she wanted most in life. She couldn't run away from it, and there was no one to rescue her. After Gabe and Danny moved out of the house she would live in it until she was old and gray, alone, with the quicksand still around her feet.

She'd wither and shrink, letting the bitterness that sometimes sprang to the surface turn her into a hard, hateful woman. Not a very pretty future she pictured for herself. The cash from the sale of the cattle just wouldn't be enough. Then the worst possible news came. Pierce had been robbed, and there was no money at all. She wouldn't have the money to pay for any of the homesteads, not even the one holding the house she lived in.

Resigning herself to the hard things she knew she was going to have to do to save her father's ranch was going to hurt a lot of people. She was going to hate herself for the rest of her life, but it had to be done.

* * *

When Sally gave Gabe the news of the robbery, he spent the rest of the day in indecision. He'd offered Sammy the homestead several times and been turned down flat. She wouldn't take it if she couldn't pay for it. Neither of them, however, had discussed her taking it on a note. If he could get her to do that, then what for him and Danny? Take Hedges up on his offer and stay there or take what money he had and move on? Everything would be so much easier if he didn't like the town, didn't like the people, and wasn't so attracted to Sammy. He could make his decision then based only on what was best for Danny.

With all that on his mind, he had some trouble drifting off to sleep, only to be jolted awake in a daze of incomprehension. First a boot in the ribs jarred him painfully, and then a gun barrel across the head stunned him.

He could feel himself being dragged, but couldn't fight it. A light somewhere danced drunkenly through his blurred vision and figures that refused to be recognized. Then they stood him against the wall, shaking him, demanding something with words he couldn't understand.

"Throw some water on him," one of the figures ordered.

The water hit him in the face, shocking sense back into him. The light quit dancing, and as he blinked the water out of his eyes, he could see them. Three men wearing black hoods over their heads had him in the kitchen, and he knew it wasn't a dream.

"What…" he started to ask.

The man directly in front of him shut him up viciously with a fist in his unprotected face. Gabe's head whirled again, causing him to reel. Two of the men slammed him back up against the wall and held him there by his outstretched arms.

"Where's the deed?" the third demanded.

"What?" he asked, still unable to understand what was happening.

A flash of rage shot through Gabe when the man hit him in the face again. Gabe didn't care anymore what they wanted. He reacted. Braced against the wall he let his legs fold, his weight pulling off balance the two men holding him. All three made the mistake of thinking he had collapsed and leaned in to force him back up. Gabe surged up on his own, using the power of both legs. The man who punched him paid first, with a head butt to his face. He yowled in pain and surprise and staggered back, blood pouring through the mask from a broken nose. Gabe twisted an arm free and swung his arm. One man doubled over from a fist in his gut. The third kicked. Because Gabe was moving, the high-heeled boot caught him on the hip, not in the crotch, but it did stagger him.

All four stumbled and fought, careening into the kitchen table. The legs of the table scraped across the wood floor as one of the men leaped on Gabe's back. His arms locked around Gabe's chest with his weight pressing Gabe down, sprawling both across the table. The hammer and nails Gabe had left there earlier that evening scattered as Gabe rolled back and forth to throw the man off. A kick took Gabe's feet out from under him, and the table collapsed. Gabe bucked, and the man's arms slipped, one hooking around Gabe's throat.

Gabe threw back an elbow and heard a grunt that carried a rush of warm air against his face. He reached over his head, trying for the man's eyes, but the man kept ducking his head away. Gabe had to do something fast. He couldn't breathe right, and his lungs were beginning to burn. He tried one elbow again while the other hand followed the choking forearm around his neck to a hand to twist a finger back. He had to break that arm loose at least long enough to get a breath. His vision was going, and his ears were starting to roar.

"Grab his feet," someone shouted, so Gabe kicked.

"Damn you," the man on his neck said, heaving and twisting to bring Gabe off the wreckage of the table, while the other two got a hold of his feet and slammed him face down on the floor.

The maneuver cost the man on his back his strangle hold. Gabe could breathe again. He braced both hands on the floor to push up before his vision cleared and before they crushed him down with their weight.

A white hot pain seized him, burning like lightening up his arm from his hand. His stomach balled in a knot that threatened to expel its contents the pain was so extreme. He jerked his hand to move it away from whatever was causing that pain, but his hand wouldn't move, and the pain of pulling on it crippled him.

"God, Boss," one man exclaimed when Gabe collapsed under them.

"Shut-up," the man with the broken nose snarled. "Hold him down."

"You ain't gonna…"

"Hold him," he snarled again, the voice sounding distorted from the blood in his nose.

Gabe gave up getting their weight off him. He couldn't do it, and he couldn't make his hand move, no matter how hard he pulled, nor could he bear the pain pulling his hand caused. He reached for that hand with the other, but the weight of a man on top of him pressed the air out of him.

"Where's that deed?" the boss demanded.

Gabe stared at his hand, shaking his head to clear it further, unable to believe what he saw, his hand nailed to the floor.

His assailant saw the look of horror in Gabe's eyes and swung the hammer he held again, striking the nail that impaled Gabe's left hand, driving the nail even deeper into the floor beneath it.

Gabe groaned, as much over what was being done as the increase in pain. That wasn't a thing one sane man did to another. It wasn't a thing a man could take, not like he could take being punched or kicked. It was different, different from being shot or knifed. It ripped at something deep inside, something that repelled and sickened.

Horrified at seeing it done to his own body, Gabe stared at the hammer swinging, cold metal slapping into the man's palm, threatening to pound down into that nail again if he didn't answer the question.

"He don't hear you, Boss. Let him rest a minute," the man on Gabe's back suggested.

"He hears me," the boss answered, looking around the floor.

The man sitting on Gabe's legs asked, "Can't he just sign a bill of sale?"

The boss lifted his head in an attitude of thought. "Yes, he can do that." He got to his feet, looking around the room. "But it should be the deed. Keep him down. I'll look for it."

"It's not here," Gabe said through clenched teeth. "It's in town."

Dead silence. Gabe could feel the men holding him down, relax their grip on him. That was what he wanted. When they weren't expecting it, he was going up. He'd have to rip that nail through his hand, but he'd get up, and he was going to kill them.

"You're lying," the boss hissed, his voice still nasal from his broken nose.

Gabe went as limp as he could, letting them think he was through, too weak to keep fighting. "It's in Hedges' safe," he said.

Silence again. The man sitting on his back broke it. "What do we do now, Boss?"

"I don't believe him. I think he needs more persuading." He bounced the hammer in his palm a few more times them pointed to the man on Gabe's back. "You stay there." While he picked up another of the scattered nails, he told the other man, "Get his other arm out straight."

Gabe gathered his remaining strength. Surging through him, fighting against the weight that held him down, Gabe fought. Pain, exhaustion, and three to one defeated him. Gabe couldn't keep the second nail from being stabbed into the back of his second fisted hand. Clenching it in a fist, didn't keep the sharp point from being driven into his flesh, and Gabe nearly passed out when the hammer connected to drive the nail in further. With the second hit of the hammer, he did faint, but came to as his head was shaken by a hold of his hair, and pain shot up from his second hand, open and nailed flat to the floor the same as the first.

"Where's that deed?"

When Gabe didn't answer, the hand tightened in his hair.

"I want that deed, Taylor. You got a week. Have it here and have it signed, or I'll do worse when I come back."

"You better kill me," Gabe moaned.

Nasal voice laughed. "You better not try to run or give that deed to anyone else. And don't you go running to the sheriff either, or I'll kill you. One week, we'll be back in one week."

He slammed Gabe's head down, chin into the floor hard enough to split the skin, and shot to his feet. Gabe went limp, hanging on the edge of consciousness.

"It'll be that long before he can travel," one of the other men said as he stood, relieving the weight on Gabe's back.

The second man snorted as he stepped away. "He ain't gonna be signing anything, either. Your woman's gonna be disappointed."

"He can make an X," their boss retorted.

"Ain't this gonna to mess up your time schedule?" the other asked.

"Yeah," the first said with a snicker, "she might not like the waiting."

"I'm the boss and don't forget it."

"Sure, Boss, just saying that pretty little filly seemed pretty anxious when you told her you'd get them deeds for her."

That was all Gabe heard before he passed out, before a sharp toed boot drove into his ribs. It was enough.

* * *

Danny was crying and Brenda was laughing, telling him what a fool he'd been for ever believing she'd lower herself to crawl in bed with him, for any reason. She kept laughing, calling him a fool, only she didn't look like Brenda. She looked like Sammy, and Danny kept crying.

"Go back to sleep, buddy," Gabe murmured, then groaned, twisting on the floor in pain that racked through his head, hands, and side, but Danny kept crying.

Gabe couldn't move his hands, pull them towards him, or draw his arms down to ease the pain in his side. He couldn't cradle his hands in an effort to ease the aching, and Danny kept crying.

Brenda wouldn't go to Danny, she just stood there laughing, laughing at what a fool he'd been for thinking Danny might be his for even the short time he had believed her, laughing at how stupid he'd been. He wanted to tell Danny it was all right, not to cry anymore, but he couldn't make the words come out. Danny kept crying, Gabe's hands hurt, his side hurt, and Gabe damned Brenda for turning into Sammy, and then Sammy for laughing, telling him what a fool he was to trust any woman.

The floor vibrated under him first with a crash and then footsteps running toward him. Finally Brenda quit laughing, but Danny still cried, and someone touched him, jarred him, made him hurt more.

* * *