The Redemption of Jake Scully (21 page)

BOOK: The Redemption of Jake Scully
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You’ll never be free of those nightmares until you face them down, Lacey, and there’s only one way to do it.

Scully shuddered as his words returned to taunt him. Lacey had gone back to old Charlie’s cabin because of him. Because of his feelings for her and emotions he was unable to control, he had abandoned her to her fears and left her with no recourse but to meet them alone.

He should’ve known. He should’ve realized what he was forcing her to do.

His hands shaking as myriad images flashed across his mind, Scully drew open his dresser drawer. He hadn’t warned Lacey of his suspicions about Barret because he hadn’t wanted to frighten her. She had no idea of the possible danger she faced. She was vulnerable and alone, and hours ahead of him on the trail.

Scully reached for the gun belt in his drawer, fear for the woman he loved shaking him to the core. Lacey was at the mercy of men who had no mercy at all, yet he could not help her unless he could reach her in time.

His need profound, Scully felt the desperate stirring of a part of him that he had thought long dismissed. He sank slowly to his knees and raised his eyes toward the God so familiar to him in his youth, the supreme power with whom he had become estranged. His throat tight, he reminded himself that Lacey was unlike him, that this same God was the source of her strength, that she was devoted to His Son’s teachings and had charted the course of her life accordingly. He began earnestly, “I’ve strayed from you, dear Jesus. I’ve done my share of sinning. I’ve done little to deserve your love or intercession, but I’m not asking for your help for myself. I’m asking for you to help Lacey. She’s familiar to you, I know, and far more worthy of your protection than I ever was. I’m asking you…pleading for you to find a way to keep her safe from whatever bad intentions are stalking her until I can reach her. I’m asking you to keep watch over her and hold all evil at bay until I stand at her side. I’ll take it from there, Lord. I’ll fulfill the promise I made to Lacey’s grandfather at any price that’s asked of me. That’s my promise to you, Lord Jesus, and it’s a promise I will not break.”

Pausing for a stabilizing breath, his eyes brimming with the power of his plea, Scully added hoarsely, “I beg you to answer this prayer, my dear Lord Jesus, not for my sake, but for Lacey, who is so worthy of your love.”

Shaken by his heartfelt appeal, Scully stood up and strapped his gun belt around his hips. He would honor his promise to Charlie, and he would fulfill the sacred promise he had just made. He would do it, at any price.

The day had turned hot and bright. Lacey glanced at the position of the sun in the cloudless sky as she followed the dusty trail at a steady pace. Her expression sober, she ignored the perspiration trailing down her cheek from underneath the damp band of her hat. She scrutinized her mount, then looked back at Careful as he trotted behind. Like her, both animals were thirsty and tired, but they’d reach her grandfather’s gravesite soon.

Lacey paused at that thought as her mount continued dutifully forward. Strangely, the same terrain that had seemed so foreign to her previously had now become familiar. She took each turn in the trail instinctively, with certainty in her direction. She was able to calculate the time it would take for her to reach her grandfather’s cabin easily when she had been formerly at a loss. She sensed this change in her had no relationship to her previous journey with Scully. Instead, it was as if a part of her was gradually returning to life—a part that had been asleep, or had been paralyzed by the terror of a fateful night.

More certain than ever before of the necessity of the journey she had undertaken, Lacey glanced at the emptiness surrounding her as her thirsty mount increased his pace. The emptiness stirred memories…painful memories of a long, exhausting walk while her head had throbbed incessantly and her weakened legs had seemed ready to fail her. She recalled her fading consciousness and the echo of her grandfather’s gruff, beloved voice that had urged her on. She remembered the name of the man he had sent her to seek with his dying breath.

The name rebounded again inside her.

Jake Scully.

It seemed ironic that years earlier she had walked this same trail hoping to find Scully, while she was now making this journey hoping to find the courage to leave him.

That thought raised the mist of tears to Lacey’s eyes as the remains of the cabin came into view. Somehow unwilling to immediately face the blackened timbers and the small mounded spot a short distance from it, she headed to the stream to water her animals. Dismounting, she released Careful so he might drink more easily. She then kneeled at the stream’s edge to cup the water in her palms and splash it against her face.

Refreshed and resolute, she stood up and looked back at the cabin debris. She had come to confront her past and to face her future. She would not leave until she met them both.

Chapter Thirteen

T
he sun dipped slowly toward the horizon with colors expanding brilliantly against the darkening sky. Immune to the glorious display, Lacey struggled to subdue the trembling that had begun inside her with the advent of twilight shadows.

Feeling an overwhelming sense of dread, she looked at the charred remains of her childhood and gathered her strength as she determinedly kneeled to set up her bedroll. She glanced back at the mound marked with a simple wooden cross. The lonesome sight revealed none of the goodness of the old man who had lived and worked nearby. It reflected nothing of the generous nature and loving qualities that compounded the tragedy of his death, and Lacey was suddenly alone—more alone than she wished to be.

Her skin was burning hot, and choking smoke filled her lungs.

She was afraid, but Grandpa held her hand tightly as he dragged her from the flames.

Disoriented, she looked up at Grandpa. Her head hurt. She wasn’t sure what had happened, why the cabin was burning, why Grandpa was looking at her so strangely.

She gasped as Grandpa fell to the ground clutching his chest, and she saw the bloody wound there.

Grandpa!

She was trembling so hard that she could hardly talk when Grandpa clutched her hand and started to speak. She—

A playful tug on her hair snapped Lacey back to the present with a gasp. Her heart pounding, she looked up into Careful’s expectant expression, then raised a shaky hand to stroke his graying muzzle. With supreme strength of will, she shook off the images that had made determined inroads into her consciousness and stood up. She was an adult now, not a child. She could not afford to surrender to her fears.

Lacey surveyed her camp, then turned her attention back to the patient burro, still feeling truly alone.

“The boss ain’t going to like this.”

Blackie’s mumbled words ended the silence that had prevailed between Larry and him as he watched Lacey’s camp through his spyglass. It hadn’t taken them long to find Lacey on the trail, but that’s where the problems had begun.

Blackie adjusted his spyglass and studied the scene more carefully. Something was wrong. Lacey Stewart had made her way directly to her grandfather’s old cabin site as expected, but that’s where the expected had ended. In the time since, she had done nothing but water her animals and walk around the camp she had set up. She had shown no interest in the surrounding terrain, had made no attempt to forage out into the wilderness for old trails or possible signs her grandfather might have left indicating the direction of his strike. In fact, she had shown no interest at all in anything but the old man’s mounded grave. What was she up to?

“What do you mean the boss ain’t going to like this? Give me that glass!”

“Hey!” Protesting when Larry snatched the spyglass out of his hand to survey the scene for himself, Blackie added, “You ain’t going to see nothing more than I did, no matter how hard you try, ’cause there ain’t nothing to see.”

A low growl his only comment, Larry watched the camp a few moments longer, before lowering the spyglass and replying, “I’m not going through this again, you know—watching and waiting who knows how long for that woman to make a move. I’m tired of the boss making out like I’m dumb, and I’m tired of taking his guff. I
ain’t
dumb, and I ain’t letting no woman lead me around in circles. I’m telling you now, Lacey Stewart’s going to point out where that strike is located, and I ain’t going to take no for an answer.”

“I know what you mean.” Blackie studied his cohort’s flushed expression. “But you know what’ll happen then. Scully will be on us faster than chain lightning.”

“You heard what the boss said about him.”

“Yeah, but I’m thinking taking care of Scully will be easier said than done.”

“The boss don’t care about what you think! All he wants is for us to come back with a map of that strike, and that’s what’s going to happen.”

“But—”

“He wants what he wants, and I’m going to make sure he gets it.”

Blackie did not immediately respond to Larry’s unexpected turnabout in attitude. He supposed Larry was thinking differently now because the boss had been so mad that they’d let Lacey get a head start on them, and because, like Larry said, the boss was crazy when he was mad. The truth was, like Larry, he didn’t fancy the thought of the boss getting any madder at them than he already was.

Blackie said belatedly, “We told the boss we’d get him what he wanted, one way or another.”

Larry stared at Blackie malevolently, then demanded, “Say it again, Blackie…like you mean it, or I’ll take care of both of them by myself, if I have to.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Embarrassed to be reprimanded by his cohort, Blackie repeated with conviction, “We’ll get the boss what he wants together.” He hesitated, then questioned, “How do you think we should do it?”

“It ain’t going to be as easy as the boss said it would be, that’s for sure. I don’t fancy waiting for that Stewart gal to make her move. If she don’t show me something soon, I’m going to move first.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’ll see.”

“Larry…”

“I told you, you’ll see!”

Blackie took a backward step, then turned toward his horse. As far as he was concerned, Larry was beginning to act as crazy as the boss he was always complaining about.

And he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Lacey forced herself to finish her meager supper as the wilderness shadows darkened into night. Her hands trembling, she dropped her canteen, then stood abruptly still in an effort to bring her emotions under control. She despised her realization that her courage had seemed to dissipate along with the waning light. She had striven to keep foremost in her mind the reasons she had made her expedition into the wilderness and the memories she hoped to revive. In that effort, she had stood at her grandfather’s graveside and had talked to the dear old man buried there, but while tears had welled, the blank spots in her memory had prevailed. She had missed the solace of holding her old, worn Bible and knowing her grandfather’s gnarled hands had turned those same pages so many years ago. But most of all, she had longed for Scully’s presence beside her, and the loving warmth of looking up into sober gray eyes that seemed able to read her heart.

Lacey blinked back the persistent tears, knowing the worst was yet to come. She would not wait for sleep knowing that Scully was nearby. She would not close her eyes knowing he cared. She would not hear the echo of his whispered reassurances or feel his comforting touch. She had lost those moments forever.

Lacey glanced back toward her horse at the sound of his nervous whinny to see that Careful had disappeared into the shadows. She heard him bray abruptly, and she frowned. She had not bothered to tether the faithful burro, but neither had she expected that he would wander from her sight in a darkness that held possible danger for him.

Myriad thoughts filled her mind when Careful brayed again. Lacey started spontaneously toward the sound. Her mount was moving restlessly at his tether when she paused at the edge of the campfire’s light and called out, “Careful…come here, old fella. Come on.”

Silence.

Lacey swallowed against a gradually expanding fear. She remembered the ancient six-shooter her grandpa had kept handy for varmints that foraged in the night. She had not thought to carry a similar reassurance, and she repeated tentatively, “Careful…?”

When no response was forthcoming, she walked tentatively into the shadows, only to stumble and fall to her knees over an unexpected obstacle on the path. She reached out and gasped when she touched a male figure lying on the ground. The sound choked in her throat when a shaft of moonlight illuminated the face of a man whose forehead was streaked with blood.

It was Buddy Cross!

The sound of footsteps in the darkness behind her brought Lacey to her feet with a jolt of terror. Somehow mesmerized, she watched as dark shadows materialized into hulking, male forms moving rapidly toward her….

Grandpa lay motionless on the ground as their cabin collapsed into a flaming heap behind them.

He wasn’t talking. He wasn’t breathing.

She stood up, staring transfixed with horror as the flickering shadows came to life in the silhouettes of two men.

She fled blindly as the men started toward her at a run. Slipping and falling, she got up to run again as the heavy footsteps drew closer.

They were directly behind her when a rough hand grabbed her by the hair and jerked her backward. She glimpsed the faces of the men then—terrifying, vicious faces—the second before a brief, shattering burst of pain brought darkness closing down around her….

Lacey returned to the present with a start as the advancing shadows neared. Terror shot up her spine when the faces of the men became visible at last.

It was they, the same men, with the same, deadly intent in their eyes!

Somehow unwilling to move, Lacey demanded, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“You know what we want!” The men halted a few feet away. The smaller of the two glared as he said, “We want the same thing we wanted all them years ago, and you’re the only one who knows where it is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Lacey’s heart pounded as she said, “All I know is that you killed my grandfather and tried to kill me. And now you killed Buddy.”

“We spotted him out there watching your camp. We couldn’t take any chances with what he was doing there, so you can thank him for what’s happening now, not us.” The taller fellow continued hotly, “Just like your grandpa pulled a switch on us when we tried to find out where his strike was all them years ago. He sneaked up on us with a gun when we was watching the cabin. He made us shoot him.”

“No!”

“We didn’t have no choice. We threw his body into the cabin and set it on fire so’s it would look like an accident. We didn’t know there was anybody else in there, and we figured we’d find his strike sooner or later without him.”

“What strike?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what we’re talking about.”

“You’re crazy…both of you! My grandfather never struck it rich. You killed him for nothing.”

“No, you’re the crazy one if you think we’re going to believe you came all the way back here from that fancy school in New York just to see your grandfather’s grave.”

The smaller of the two men advanced menacingly closer as he said, “All the trouble can stop here if you want it to, you know. Just tell us where your grandpa made his strike, and we’ll let you live.”

Lacey glanced down at Buddy’s still body, then replied with shaken conviction, “No, you won’t, but you won’t get rich by killing me, either, because my grandpa never made a strike.”

“Yes, he did.”

“He didn’t.”

“Liar!” The smaller of the two men raised his fist threateningly. “I’ll teach you to—”

“Don’t try it!” Scully’s deep, familiar voice sounded from the shadows, stunning the scene into motionlessness as he stepped forward into view with his gun drawn.

Incredulous at the sight of him, Lacey watched as Scully ordered, “Drop your guns, both of you.”

“No.” The smaller of the two men almost grinned. “You ain’t got the guts to shoot us head-on, Scully. You’re just a cardsharp…a gambler. There ain’t nothing in your veins but—”

A sudden blaze of gunfire shattered the silence of the clearing as the taller of the two men snapped his gun from his holster and fired—as Scully and the second man fired simultaneously, and the campsite was suddenly filled with gunshots that left only Lacey standing.

Stunned, Lacey was momentarily unable to react. She gasped with horror as the gun smoke cleared and she saw Scully lying on the ground, a bloody wound on his chest.

She rushed to his side, a voice inside her mind screaming, no, not again!

She could not lose Scully for the same, senseless reason that she had lost her grandfather.

Determined that she would not, Lacey untied her neckerchief and pressed it tight to his wound with trembling hands, hoping to stanch the flow of blood. She pleaded, “Talk to me, Scully. Please talk to me.”

Panic made inroads into Lacey’s mind when Scully’s eyes remained closed. His chest moved shallowly underneath her palm and she leaned closer to rasp, “Don’t leave me, Scully. I need to know you’ll be all right. Please tell me you’ll be all right.”

Buddy staggered into the circle of the fire’s light behind her. He brushed away the blood still streaming from his head wound as he checked the two lifeless men briefly, then came to crouch at her side.

Hardly aware of Buddy’s presence, Lacey whispered again, “Please, Scully…open your eyes.”

Scully heard her voice. He felt her touch. A teardrop fell on his cheek, and he realized Lacey was crying.

He struggled against the heavy weight of his eyelids. It hurt to move—to breathe—but Lacey was calling him.

His eyes opening into narrow slits, Scully saw her. She was beautiful, even in tears. He wanted to tell her that. He wanted to say he had never known any woman more beautiful than she, but he needed to tell her something more important, to warn her.”

“Talk to me, Scully.”

Scully struggled to speak. He needed to tell her it wasn’t all over yet. She was still in danger.

“You’re a part of me, Scully. If you die, a part of me will die, too.”

No, he didn’t want that! He wanted to protect her…keep her safe.

Buddy’s face appeared in Scully’s line of vision, and the panic inside Scully lessened. Buddy was a good man. He’d do his best to protect Lacey for the present, but Buddy didn’t know Barret was the man behind her grandfather’s death, either.

“Scully, please…”

Lacey was pleading with him to talk to her, but his stiff lips were unable to form a response. He tried harder, but his strength was fading. He wouldn’t last much longer.

He managed to say, “Lacey…”

Scully heard Lacey’s intake of breath as he spoke her name. He felt the responsive tightening of her hand on his as she whispered, “We’ll get you back to Weaver, Scully. You’re going to be all right, you’ll see.”

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