Stormy Glenn - Blaecleah Brothers 06 - Cowboy Convenience (16 page)

Yancy drummed his finger on the window seal of the truck, nervous and frightened all at the same time. They were headed to Sheriff Miller’s house to see if the former sheriff had any knowledge of Webber’s plans or where the deputy might be.

Yancy was so anxious that his stomach was one continuous knot. He was going to throw up!
“We never did tell you about our legends, did we?”
Yancy glanced up to see Lachlan staring at him in the rearview

mirror. “No, we never got around to that,” he replied, wondering why it was important when the loves of his life were missing and in the hands of a madman.

“The Blaecleah family has been around for hundreds of years, Yancy, long before we came to America. There’s an old Blaecleah legend that says each Blaecleah will have one mate, one person that they know on sight is meant only for them. And they will love this person, man or woman, for the rest of their lives. There will be no other for them.”

Asa was grinning as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m Lachlan’s legend. Da explained it to me the day I bought our rings and proposed to Lachlan.”

Lachlan smiled as if the thought in his head brought him great joy. “I knew the second I saw Asa that he was it for me. I would never love another, and I never have. I’ve never even looked at another man since I met him. I imagine it is much the same for Seamus.”

“I don’t think I’m Seamus’s legend.” Yancy grimaced, glancing down at his fingers as heartache swelled up inside of him. “John maybe, but not me.”

“Bullshit!” Lachlan said vehemently. “I’ve seen the way my brother watches you when you’re not looking. John may have hung the moon for Seamus, but you hung the stars. Together, I believe that the two of you will be Seamus’s greatest joy.”

Yancy wished he could believe that. He was desperate to believe that. He had known from the very beginning that part of Seamus’s heart belonged to John. He just wanted to have the other half.

“Trust me, Yancy,” Lachlan continued. “You’re Seamus’s legend as much as John is. Granted, it’s a little odd to have two, but it’s happened before.”

Yancy’s head snapped up. “It has?”
“When Seamus brought you both home, we were a little shocked. Not that he was with a man, mind you, but that he was with two men. Da took us all aside and explained to us that our great uncle Syros had two legends, although his were a man and a woman. All three of them lived to the ripe old age of ninety-eight, dying within minutes of each other.”
Yancy wasn’t too keen on the whole dying thing, especially under the current circumstances, but it was nice to hear about another Blaecleah that had two legends, as well as to hear about a threesome that lived together—hopefully happily—until their dying day.
“Were they happy?” He just had to know.
“Da says they were. He was pretty young when they passed away, so he doesn’t remember much, but his ma told him they died with smiles on their faces, all three holding hands while they took their last breaths.”
“And you really think both John and I are Seamus’s legends?”
“Without a doubt,” Lachlan replied. “My brother has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you two. You’re more than his legends, Yancy. You and John are his entire world.”
That was good enough for Yancy.
“You know that Seamus was really worked up about bringing us home,” Yancy said. “He was terrified that you wouldn’t accept two men into his life.”
“Two men are different than two legends, Yancy,” Lachlan explained. “If you all were just dating, we might have had a problem with it. You both being his legends puts you into another ballpark all together. Legends don’t go away.”
“What do you mean?”
“If either you or John were to leave Seamus, he would continue to love you until the day he died,” Asa said. “It doesn’t matter if you are there or not. He will never love anyone except you and John.”
Damn!
“That’s a lot of responsibility,” Yancy said as he pushed his hand through his hair, ruffling the edges.
“It is,” Asa said, and Yancy figured the man knew what he was talking about since he was Lachlan’s legend, “but ultimately, it’s worth it. Lachlan and I butt heads a lot. We’re both pretty stubborn, but I’ve never been happier than I have since the day I decided to stay.”
“I want to stay,” Yancy insisted. “I want to be wherever Seamus is.”
“And John?” Asa asked. “What about him?”
Yancy’s heart clenched at the mention of the handsome sheriff. “Him, too.”
“You know, you get to love them both.”
Yancy inhaled a shaky breath. “I think I already do.”
“Hey, guys, we’re here.”
Yancy glanced out the window as they pulled up in front of a tan ranch-style house. The house was in pretty good condition, but even Yancy could tell that it was an older home. “This is where Sheriff Miller lives?”
“Yep.”
That surprised Yancy. He would have thought that a man that had been the sheriff of Cade Creek for over thirty years would live in something a bit grander. “Doesn’t he have a pension or something?”
“How the hell would I know?” Lachlan asked. “I’m not a sheriff.”
Yancy climbed out of the truck and met Asa and Lachlan near the front. “How do you want to play this?”
“I don’t think knocking on the front door would be a good idea,” Lachlan said. “Sheriff Miller is not a big fan of the Blaecleahs. We’ve butted heads more than once. He’d probably shoot me rather than talk to me.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“You go knock on the door and question him,” Lachlan said. “He doesn’t know you.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“Asa and I are going to go check out the garage and around back. If we find anything, we’ll let you know. If we don’t, we’ll meet you back at the truck.”
“Okay.” Yancy didn’t like the idea of them separating under the circumstances. The last time he had separated from someone, John and Seamus had gone missing. But, with no other option, he headed for the front door while Lachlan and Asa started toward the garage.
He had barely reached the front door and raised his hand to knock when he heard a loud shout from the side of the house. Thinking that Asa and Lachlan might be in trouble, Yancy ran around the side of the building, heading for the two men.
Asa was on his knees by the shrubs on the side of the garage, emptying the contents of his stomach into the bushes. When Yancy paused at his side, Asa just pointed to the garage. Yancy felt like his heart had stopped beating as he slowly walked to the garage door, not knowing what he would find inside.
Lachlan was just inside the garage, standing over a freezer. He had a hand over his mouth as he stared down into the freezer. His face was so pale that Yancy worried the man might pass out. He worried more about what Lachlan was looking at.
“Is it…” Nope, he couldn’t ask.
Lachlan shook his head. “It’s Ira Thornton.”
Yancy vaguely remembered mention that Ira Thornton had escaped from prison during a transfer to the hospital. He didn’t know much about the man other than the fact that Billy had been raised believing that the man was his father.
Yancy still wasn’t sure if Billy was relieved to learn that Sheriff Miller was his actual biological father instead of Ira, or not. Neither of the men would ever win father of the year award.
Yancy stepped closer to the freezer, quickly covering his mouth when a noxious odor reached him. There was one scent that he had learned when he was a detective that he had never been able to forget, no matter how many years he had been gone from the police force— the smell of a decomposing body.
There wasn’t another scent like it in the world.
Yancy tried to breathe through his mouth as he checked the body out. Whoever had killed Ira had dumped his body in the freezer, most likely to mask the scent. The man was a frozen icicle.
“He’s been dead awhile, Lachlan,” Yancy said quickly. “I’d say at least two weeks, maybe three.”
“That’s not long after he escaped.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Can you tell how he died?”
Yancy glanced around until he spotted a set of gardening gloves. He quickly grabbed them and pulled them on before leaning over the freezer to check out the dead body. It didn’t take him more than a moment to find the gunshot wound in Ira’s chest. The blood had frozen, but the stain was clear as day.
“He was shot.”
“Yeah, but who did it?” Lachlan asked. “Webber or Sheriff Miller?”
“I think the better question is where are they now and who has John and Seamus?”
Before Lachlan could say anything, they both heard a loud crash from inside the house. Yancy froze for about half a second before he went running toward the door leading to the house. He could hear Lachlan calling out to him as he ran, but stopping to talk to the guy wasn’t on his current agenda.
Finding his lovers outweighed everything else, even his own safety.

Seamus’s stomach rolled, threatening to rebel, as he glanced at the body lying on the floor in the corner of the room. He had been trying not to stare at it since he had woken up. It wasn’t working. As much as he tried not to look, his eyes kept straying in that direction.

After everything his family had been through because of Sheriff Miller, seeing the man’s dead, bloody body slumped on the floor was kind of anticlimactic. It was also somewhat terrifying. If Webber could kill the former sheriff and callously discard his body like a piece of trash, there was no telling what he would do to him and John.

Seamus was still shocked that Deputy Webber was the one that kidnapped them. Granted, he knew that the man was up to no good from the threatening phone calls he had left on John’s answering machine, but he never dreamed that Webber was up to murder.

And judging by the amount of blood on Sheriff Miller’s body, it had clearly been murder. The bloody knife lying a few inches from the former sheriff’s body only reaffirmed that belief. Webber had killed Miller.

Why was the big question. While Seamus didn’t understand why Webber would kidnap him and John, it made a whole lot more sense than killing Sheriff Miller. John was Webber’s boss, a person in authority over the deputy. If Webber wanted to rage at someone, John was the most likely target.

Well, at least Seamus had thought so until he saw Sheriff Miller’s body. Webber obviously had something against the man as much as he did John. After seeing what Webber had done to the former sheriff, Seamus was terrified of what he would do to him and John.

He was more worried about John than himself. Seamus was pretty sure he fell into the “wrong place, wrong time” category. If he hadn’t followed John out to the barn, he’d probably be home safe and sound right now—going out of his mind with worry, wondering where John was.

He was still going out of his mind with worry, but at least he knew where John was. The sheriff was just feet from him, his arms and legs tied to a chair just like Seamus. His head hung down to his chest, his shoulders slumped.

John had been that way since right after Seamus walked into the barn. He had been momentarily stunned to see John and Webber fighting when he walked in, but not more than John. The man had shouted out a warning, giving Webber time to hit him over the head with the butt of his gun. John had slumped to the floor, and he hadn’t moved since.

Seamus was terrified that he never would. A thin trail of blood trickled from a gash in John’s hair down the side of his face. After suffering a concussion just days before, getting knocked out again couldn’t be good. Seamus was worried that this injury would be even worse.

That was assuming they even made it out of here alive. Seamus had no idea what Webber had planned for them. Since bringing him and John to the room and tying them up, Webber had left and hadn’t returned, mumbling to himself as he left.
Seamus wasn’t sure where they were as Webber had blindfolded him until after he was tied up. He was pretty sure the only reason the blindfold had been taken off was to torture him as he watched John slowly bleed to death. Well, that and to see the dead body of the former sheriff in the corner.
And it was working. Seamus’s anxiety level was through the roof. John wouldn’t wake up. He didn’t know where they were. And Miller’s dead and bloody body only reminded Seamus of what might be coming.
As a torture technique, it was working fantastically.
The blood in Seamus’s veins chilled when the door opened and Webber walked in. The man’s hair was in disarray as if he had been running his fingers through it repeatedly. His uniform, usually pressed and pristine, was wrinkled and stained with blood. He didn’t look like the man Seamus knew, the one John respected so much.
He looked like a psychotic freak, one that had lost his mind ages ago and no longer lived in the here and now. Whatever was going on with Deputy Webber had started a long time ago and was only now manifesting itself in the form of the monster before him.
“Webber, something is wrong with John.” He spoke carefully, softly. He didn’t want to spook Webber if he could help it. He especially didn’t want Webber to use the gun he held in his hand. “Let me check on him and make sure he’s okay.”
Webber’s eyes were wild and unfocused as they flickered over to John’s prone form. They wavered as if Webber wasn’t real sure why John was here. Seamus prayed that was a good thing and didn’t mean that the man was about to go ballistic on them.
“John’s your friend, remember?” Seamus reminded the deputy. “We don’t want anything bad to happen to him.”
“John is…”
Seamus’s breath caught and held in his throat as he watched Webber walk over and lift John’s head. He jumped, a cry falling from his lips when John’s eyes suddenly popped open and the man roared as he lunged up at Webber, taking the chair with him.
Webber stumbled back, dropping the gun, surprise making his eyes widen and his jaw drop momentarily before his face darkened with anger. His eyes narrowed, and his mouth snapped closed—and Seamus knew the befuddled deputy was gone and the psychotic killer was back.
Webber howled with rage as he charged at John. At the last second, right before Webber reached him, John turned and used the chair to block Webber’s momentum. Webber hit the chair with such force that it broke the wooden spindles John’s legs were tied to, freeing John’s legs.
Webber crashed to the floor, but he was up just as fast. John was trying to get the ropes off his hands, but before he could, Webber attacked him again. Seamus’s scream rang through the air as Webber hit John over and over again, forcing him to the floor.
Seamus started struggling against his own ties, determined to get free and help his lover. The sounds of fists hitting flesh mingled with the whimpers of frustration that fell from Seamus’s lips when he couldn’t wiggle free. John was going to die right before his eyes, and there was nothing Seamus could do to stop it.
He had never felt so helpless in his life.
Seamus cried out in pain as John and Webber crashed into him, and he fell back, slamming his head into the unforgiving hardwood floor. With his arms and legs tied to the chair, there had been no way to keep himself upright or stop his free fall backward.
Seamus lay there in a daze, his vision swimming and his head throbbing in agony. He could hear the distinctive sounds of the fight continuing around him, John and Webber moving around the room as they battled each other.
But the sound was almost faint as if coming from a far off distance. Seamus knew he more than likely had a concussion from hitting his head, a large goose egg if nothing else. He had hit the floor rather hard.
Another crash rang through the room, loud enough to get Seamus’s attention, as dazed as he was. He turned his head just in time to catch the blur of material and hear the enraged roar of someone running past him.
Seamus blinked in confusion a moment later as the chair he was tied to lifted and he was set upright. His confusion intensified when he realized that Asa and Lachlan stood next to him. Lachlan was squatting down, untying Seamus. Asa was checking the wound at the back of his head.
“How…?”
“We’ll explain later,” Asa said, “after the paramedics look you over.”
Seamus frowned, knowing that there was more going on than his possible head injury and wondering why Asa and Lachlan were so concerned about him when John was fighting for his life.
“John…”
“I’m fine, babe.”
“Oh!” Tears filled Seamus’s eyes when he turned to find John standing in front of him. “John, you…” Seamus’s eyes widened. “Webber, he wanted to…”
“Yancy has him, love.”
Seamus’s eyes snapped around the room at lightning speed, finally landing on the corner of the room where Yancy stood over the top of Webber with a gun aimed at the deputy. Webber was sitting on the floor with his hands tied behind his back, looking confused and forlorn as if he didn’t fully understand what was happening.
“Seamus, do you know what happened to Sheriff Miller?” Asa asked.
Seamus’s head began to clear as he looked up at his brother-inlaw. “Webber killed him. He kept mumbling something about this all being Sheriff Miller’s fault and that if the man had done what he promised, none of this would have happened.”
“None of what, Seamus?”
Seamus shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I think I do,” Lachlan said. “In those letters we found back at Webber’s house, Sheriff Miller talked about training his son to take over when he retired, that he wanted his son to be the next sheriff.”
“Well, that explains why Webber was so pissed at John,” Asa said. “John became sheriff instead of Webber. If Webber knew what was in those letters, he was probably pretty angry that he didn’t get the job.”
“Or the recognition that he was Sheriff Miller’s son.”
“But that doesn’t make sense, Asa. I’ve been sheriff for a few years,” John insisted. “Why go crazy now?”
“Marla only died a few months ago. Maybe she never showed Webber these letters or let him know who his father was. If he only found out recently that he was supposed to be the new sheriff, then…” Lachlan shrugged, letting the statement hang in the air.
Seamus glanced over at Webber again. The guy had absolutely no life in his eyes as he stared off into space. It was like whatever psychotic break he had been going through was complete and he had checked out.
Seamus hoped wherever he was had really strong bars.
“Can we go home now?” Seamus asked. The vacant stare in Webber’s eye was wigging him out. He wanted to go, and he wanted to go now. “I’d really like to go home now.”
“Hospital first, love,” John said as he helped Seamus to his feet, holding onto his arm. “Then Yancy and I will take you home.”
“Your home?”
“Our home,” Yancy said as he walked up and took Seamus’s other arm, “at least until a place for all of us can be built out at your family’s ranch.”
Seamus turned to stare at Yancy until the man chuckled.
“Your brother explained what a Blaecleah legend is, Seamus. He also explained to me that you are not the first Blaecleah to have two legends.”
Seamus’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m not?”
“Nope.” Yancy’s grin began to grow wider. “It seems that your great uncle something or another had two legends. All three of them lived together to the ripe old age of ninety-eight, dying within moments of each other.”
“Sounds good to me,” John said.
Seamus thought about that for a minute then shook his head. “No, ninety-eight years isn’t enough. We need to go for at least a hundred.”
“Only if you promise to love me when I’m old and gray,” Yancy said.
“I promise,” Seamus said without hesitation.
“I promise, too,” John said.
Yancy’s eyes misted as he looked at John. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” John’s face flushed as he shrugged. “I figure if I love you both now, I’ll love you until the day I die as well. Isn’t that how this legend thing works?”
Seamus groaned. “Can we please not talk about dying?”
John chuckled as he wrapped his arms around both Yancy and Seamus. “Whatever you say, babe.”
Seamus grinned as he patted John on the chest. “Now, that’s the way to begin a relationship.”