Rocky Mountain Oasis (34 page)

“Good morning, Jason.”

“Morning.”

“Have you seen Jed?”

He nodded. “He headed down to the livery for a minute. Said he’d be right back.”

“Thanks, I’ll go talk to him there.” He turned toward the door, hating the strain that stretched tight between them. They had been so close once.

“Sky.”

Sky stopped and faced his cousin.

“I was wrong in what I said about Chang last night. I know I need to forgive him. You pray for me about that, would you?”

Sky blinked in surprise. “You better believe I will. I have been.” He turned back toward the door, but his movements stilled once more as he contemplated. Should he include Jason in his contingency plan after all? The contrition he had just seen on his cousin’s face was no bluff and he praised God for softening Jason’s heart. But should he put him through what might become such a great temptation so soon after his newfound resolve?

He decided to compromise; he would ask for Jason’s help but make sure he was within eyesight at all times. “Jason, some of the men are talking about forming a lynch mob. We might have a little trouble on our hands today. Can I count on you to back me up if I need your help?”

There was a catch in Jason’s voice as he said, “Just like old times, huh?” He cleared his throat.

Sky smiled. “Something pretty close anyway. Usually it was
me
backing
you
up, remember? You were the hothead who always rushed headlong into a situation without thinking first, and it’s only because of my lightning-quick reaction time that you are alive today.”

There was a full-fledged grin on Jason’s face now. “I seem to remember things a little differently. You remember that time Tiny Jack had wedged himself into that hollow log out in the desert and told us we would have to shoot him if we wanted to get him out?”

“Now just a min—” Sky began to protest, but Jason cut him off.

“What did you do but pick up that mean-lookin’ snake that was slithering past and proceed to toss it into one end of that log? Only when you picked it up, it bit you on the calf. Remember that? Tiny Jack came out of the other end of that log like a race horse at the starting line. After I tied him up, I killed the snake, sliced your leg with my hunting knife, and proceeded to suck the venom out of your leg, remember? Now
who
was backing up
who
on that day?”

By this time Sky was laughing so hard, remembering, that he held his stomach. “And when we got the snake home, Dad looked at it and told us it was nothing more than a harmless garden variety snake that could do no one any harm.”

Jason gave a snort. “And I sucked your blood,” he said in disgust.

Sky guffawed again. “All the way home that day I was sure I was going to die.” He studied the amusement dancing in Jason’s eyes and realized how much he’d missed the times like this together.

“Well, I hope I don’t have to suck any more of your blood,” Jason said. “But no matter what, you can count on me today if you need help.” His face abruptly turned serious as though he wanted to make sure Sky knew he really meant what he said.

“I’ll count on that.” Sky opened the door and went in search of Jed, hoping to catch him and Wild Bill Currey together.

Just as he stepped out the door, though, he saw Trace Johnson coming down the street.

“Mornin’,” Trace called.

Sky nodded. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something. I don’t have a lot of time, but I have this hunch and if it pans out, I think you’ll be glad we followed it. If it doesn’t, we won’t have lost anything, either.”

“What kind of a hunch?”

“Did you ever say what color of hair that girl had? The one whose parents were murdered back east?”

Trace frowned. “I don’t recall saying, but blond.”

“Alice Fraser has blond hair. Did you notice her at the funeral?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe I’m stretching a bit,” Sky continued, “but do you think this man you’re looking for might have a penchant for blonds?”

“Could be, but I don’t quite see the connection.”

“What if he had an interest in the blond girl back east? He took her out a couple of times, but then when he wanted to get serious, her father put an end to it? Maybe the robbery was a cover-up for his real intention—murder?”

Trace ran a hand down his long beard in thought.

Sky went on. “A couple of months ago Fraser mentioned in passing that this
lunatic
—that was his exact word—was interested in his daughter. He told her suitor in no uncertain terms that he was not to call on Alice again. You following me now?”

Trace nodded, understanding lighting his eyes.

“I need to know the man’s name. His tracks are all over here, and Lee Chang recognized his description. I think he had something to do with this.” Trace thought for only a moment. “Percival Hunter.”

Sky frowned. His heart rate quickened as all the pieces suddenly began to fall into place. “He rode the stage up from Lewiston with you and my wife, Brooke, didn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Trace nodded.

“Well, my wife wasn’t afraid of Percival then. She was very comfortable around him, in fact.” Sky was thinking out loud. “But on the night of the murder she saw a man, which she claimed was you, in the alley by Fraser’s store. Now, you told me you weren’t here that night, and all of a sudden at the funeral that day my wife turned pale as death itself over something. Was Percival Hunter at Fraser’s funeral?”

Trace nodded.

Sky rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe Brooke saw him and it was
him
she was afraid of. Now what does that tell you?”

“That something happened to make her afraid of Hunter between the time she first met him and the day of the funeral.”

“Exactly. I think
he
was the man in the alley. Maybe he saw her and somehow got to her and threatened her into silence.”

Sky’s body trembled as he spoke. He snatched his hat from his head and raked a hand back through his hair in agitation. To actually say these things out loud and realize that they made sense caused his blood to run cold with fear for Brooke. That someone had been near her, threatening her and causing her terror, was unforgivable.

He straightened at the next thought. He had seen Percival’s tracks in the barn yard even before the night of the murder. Hunter had been following Brooke for a while.

Rage coursed through every vein in his body. He pictured Brooke’s strawberry-blond curls and forced himself to say the next words even as his heart hammered with dread at the thought. “I think he will be paying our farm a visit, and maybe I can help you get the information you need to arrest him and get a conviction. Probably not for this crime, because Lee Chang doesn’t seem to want to talk, but hopefully for that other one.”

Trace Johnson eyed Sky as he turned his hat around by the rim. “Are you too close to this one to think clearly?”

Sky chuckled nervously. “Probably, but I’m all the hope you’ve got.”

Trace nodded. “I’ll head out to your place right now if it will make you feel any better.”

“Yeah, I think it would, thanks. My mother and dad are out there. Dad’s a lawman, but he’s not expecting any trouble, so you might want to give him the heads-up. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Sky pushed his hat back onto his head.

Trace moved off silently in the direction of his horse.

Sky prayed like he never had before that the Lord would protect Brooke until he could get home again.

Brooke moved the horse confidently through the brush now, not bothering to keep quiet. Pierce City was just over the next little rise. She ducked under a large branch that stretched across the trail and moved ahead, intent on her goal.

When she had first left the house, all of Sky’s warnings about the men of the posse, not to mention thoughts about Percival Hunter, had come to mind. However, the heavy feel of the .22 in her dress pocket reassured her. If anyone accosted her, she would simply pull it out, point it in their direction, and they would have to let her pass.

She pressed on, wishing she had told Sky the truth earlier. Then this little morning jaunt would not be necessary. But she knew innocent men might be convicted if she didn’t arrive and tell all she had really seen. Which, when she stopped to think about it, wasn’t much, but she must have seen something important…otherwise why would Percival have threatened her the way he did?

What had she actually seen that night? She fiddled with the loose ends of the reins as she tried to think of anything incriminating she might have seen and just not recognized.

The snapping of branches caught her attention. She lifted her head and pulled her mount to a stop, listening. Another horse was coming through the brush to her right!

Sweat broke out all over and she jerked on the reins, but the horse was confused by the sudden jolt and only backed up a few steps.

Percival Hunter rode his horse into the trail in front of her.

She gasped, her heart pounding in her ears. Too late! She froze, unable to think of a thing to do. All the threats this man had made against her came rushing to mind and she swayed in the saddle.
Jesus, help me!

“Well,” Percival chuckled sardonically, “if it isn’t little Mrs. Jordan! Simply out for an early morning ride, I suppose?” He eyed her coldly. “You wouldn’t be on your way into town to confess your little lies, would you?”

Brooke’s mouth was so dry she couldn’t have spoken if she had wanted to, but suddenly her mind cleared. She had to get away from this man. Now! Spinning her horse around, she spurred it back down the trail toward home.

Hunter gave an angry roar and galloped after her.

Her breaths came in short gasps and she tried not to think about how closely this situation resembled some of her recurring nightmares. Hooves pounded on the trail directly behind her. Looking back over her shoulder, she could see that Percival was gaining on her. Panic clawed at her heart.

She kicked her heels into the horse’s side and yelled, “Come on, mov—!” As she faced forward, the thick branch that stretched across the trail caught her directly across the forehead. Pain sizzled through her in jagged shards as she jolted backwards in a head-over-heels roll off the galloping horse. She groaned once. Smashed into the ground. Then blessed blackness engulfed her.

Sky leaned one shoulder into the side of a building on the south end of town, making sure he had a clear view of all the proceedings. With his arms folded, ankles crossed, and black hat set low on his head, he affected a casual stance, but in reality his every nerve was on edge. He took note of the positions that Jed and Currey had taken up and was pleased to see they were well spread out, as he had asked them to be.

Chang was brought out first, asked one more time if he had anything to say, and when the answer was negative, he was forced to lie down with his face against the cold ground.

“You can see ‘im breathin’,” called a man from the group.

“And there are no drag marks from the noose to the body,” noted another. “We should at least make it look real.”

Sky shook his head at the unreality of it all as these little details were taken care of. Chang was moved further away from the noose so that the other prisoners wouldn’t be able to see him breathing. Another man dug the heels of his boots deep into the ground and allowed one of his friends to grab him under the arms and drag him from where the noose hung to the location of Chang’s “corpse.”

A sharpshooter stood close enough to Chang to remind him that if he made a move, it would be his last, but far enough away that the prisoners wouldn’t wonder why a gunman was standing guard over a dead body.

Then the next prisoner was brought from the jail and questioned. He was told his fate would be the same as Chang’s if he didn’t tell the truth.

The man stammered out the same story he’d been telling all along. “I-I not h-here that night. I innocent!”

Bymaster slipped the noose over his head, and two other men pulled on the rope, applying pressure. The man’s body lifted until his toes scrabbled for purchase on the cold ground.

Sky swallowed and looked down.

Finally they eased the pressure, and the prisoner gasped for air. However, when he could speak again, he still adamantly clung to his innocence.