by Joyce Alec
Revulsion climbed up Annie’s throat.
“The only way I could stop him from going after her, the only way I could make sure he didn’t go to my father and ask to marry her was to do what he said,” Joe continued, his voice breaking with emotion as he turned himself away from her, clearly unwilling to let her see the shame he felt. “It was wrong of me, I know it, but I love my sister.”
Annie felt her heart break with sympathy and compassion, wondering at what agonies he must have faced in doing what he knew was wrong just to save a sister.
“My father didn’t care, of course,” Joe said, dropping his head for a moment. “I was taking money from places I shouldn’t, threatening people I’d once thought of as friends…and they knew full well why I was doing it. That was the worst thing, you see. Knowing that they understood why I had to do what Bretton asked.”
“Until it got too much,” Annie finished with some hesitance. “You couldn’t take it any longer.”
His eyes shot to hers, and Annie felt a jolt tear through her.
“That’s right,” he agreed. “Bretton told me to go tell old Mrs. Anderson that she owed Bretton a bit more money. Interest, he said, on something he’d lent her.” Putting his head in his hands, he sniffed once, struggling to keep himself composed. “That lady had nothing left. Bretton had taken all of it. When I went to speak to her, she broke down.” He bent down on his haunches, his eyes tormented as he caught her gaze. “What could I do, Annie? What could I do? I had to get this money. Otherwise Bretton would go after Laura, but I couldn’t force Mrs. Anderson to give something she didn’t have! If I’d taken her house from her, where would she go? What would she do? Where would she live?”
“Then what did you do?” Annie asked softly, watching him closely and seeing how his emotions flickered across his face, one after the other.
He dropped his head for a moment.
“I gave Mrs. Anderson some of my own money to see her through. Then I sold my bit of land, the one I’d spent years saving to buy, and threw it at Bretton’s feet. I told him that I’d have nothing to do with his life any longer. I told him that I was taking my sister and leaving the town. I swore I’d do everything I could to somehow remove his hold over the town.” He shook his head sadly. “I don’t remember much after that.”
Annie gasped, her hand at her mouth. “They beat you?”
“Black and blue,” he admitted with a small shrug. “It took me three days just to be able to stand.” A small smile tugged at his lips, his eyes narrowing. “Bretton didn’t believe I had the strength to even get out of bed, but I proved him wrong. The first moment I could, I got ahold of Laura and we rode out of town. I guess someone must have seen us, but I thought we’d made it. I thought we were free.”
“And then someone shot you in the shoulder,” Annie whispered.
He nodded. “There’s that rocky stretch a few miles back. I don’t know how someone found us, but the next thing I knew there was the sound of gunshots and a slice of pain in my chest.” Closing his eyes for a moment, he dragged in air, steadying himself. “Laura was safe, that was the main thing. We rode hard and fast, until I was sure we’d lost them.” His eyes opened, fixed on her own and filled with gratitude. “You can’t imagine what a relief it was seeing your place. I had to pray you’d be willing to help us both. You’re a remarkable woman, Annie. If it wasn’t for your kindness and your trust, I don’t think either of us would be here now. Laura would most likely be married to Boyd Bretton, and I would…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
Annie’s heart went out to him, her mind shuddering with the thoughts of what Boyd Bretton might have done to Joe if he’d found him. She believed him when he said he hadn’t shot Simon. There was no doubt in her mind, not now. There was honesty and truth in everything he’d said, and so she found herself reaching out her hand towards him. “Come and sit by me, Joe. You look done in.”
His face crumpled. It was as though, by asking him to come and sit by her, she’d told him that she believed him, that she trusted him. After what he’d told her, Annie didn’t feel anything but compassion for him and understood why he’d had to do what Bretton wanted for so long. There was understanding in just how terrible a choice that must have been each and every time.
His hand reached for hers. As his fingers crept over her own, she held onto them tightly, trying to reassure him. Slowly, he moved forward and sat down beside her, his breath shooting out of him in a shuddering sigh.
“We rode for a few miles before I couldn’t ride any longer,” he whispered, the memories of what had happened tormenting his mind. “I was dizzy and weak. How Laura managed to hold me up for so long, I don’t know.”
“But you made it here,” Annie said, looping her arm through his. “I don’t know what you’re planning on doing next, but I believe you, Joe. If you say you weren’t the one to shoot Simon, then I’ll believe you. You don’t have to worry about that no longer.” She looked behind her at her house, her gaze traveling towards the field, where the three horses still grazed. “You’ve taken care of me and protected me just like you said. Somehow, Simon’s threat is gone, but now there’s another threat in his place. But this time, it’s facing you, not me.” She shook her head, turning back to look at him. “What are you going to do about Bretton?”
Joe ran one hand over his eyes. “I don’t know,” he muttered quietly. “Part of me thinks I ought to just let him get on with things. He can’t get near Laura now, not now that she’s married to Robert. But still, there’s that promise I made to him, the one I can’t simply forget.”
She saw the dedication in his eyes, the determination to almost right his own wrongs. “You want to stop Bretton from going back to Steerhorn?”
“I do,” he said hoarsely. “He can’t carry on like that.”
Tilting her head slowly, Annie thought hard. “This town doesn’t have a sheriff, Joe. What if…?”
“What if I was to set myself up as the sheriff?” he asked, a look of surprise etched on his face. “I can’t. These townsfolk, they don’t know me. On top of that, Bretton would have something to say about my character and all the things I did.”
“Would he?” Annie asked quickly. “He can’t say nothing without revealing to everyone what it is that he’s been doing during his time as a deputy. Even if he doesn’t confess in his own town, even if he accidentally tells folks what he’s been doing, the town council can—”
“Make sure that he doesn’t get to keep his badge as a deputy sheriff,” Joe finished, his eyes widening just a little. “That’s a sound idea, at least. But it doesn’t solve the problem of Simon’s murder.”
She sighed, her hopes doused with icy cold water. “Of course.”
“Bretton could easily try to pin that on me,” he said slowly. “I know he’s looking for me and this is an easy way to get rid of me for good. It won’t matter what I say, he’ll only care about trying to blacken my name so bad that I won’t ever see the light of day again.” His voice became thick, dulled with emotion. It was as if they’d had a moment of hope, only to be plunged back into a deep, dark pit with not even a single spot of light.
“What did happen to you last night, Joe?” Annie asked tentatively. “I know you were planning on heading out to speak to Simon, but–”
Joe shrugged. “I went to the saloon and one of the men there told me where I might find him. When I went to the door, I knocked a few times, but there was no reply. When I pushed open the door, well, that’s when I saw him.”
Fighting back her nausea, Annie tried to carry on the conversation. Every single detail was important. “What did you see?”
“He was just…lying there,” Joe replied slowly. “Flat on the floor. Blood everywhere. Gun in his hand. I knew at once he’d been shot. There was no way there would be that much blood on the walls of the place if he’d just done it himself. No, that had to come from a distance.”
Annie blanched, her fingers tightening in his as she l
ooked away.
“Sorry,” he murmured, sounding a little embarrassed as one hand rubbed the small of her back. “I wasn’t meaning to—”
She tried to smile and waved it away. “It’s fine. So that’s why Mr. Stewart and Boyd Bretton are saying he was shot with his own gun.”
“Sure,” Joe agreed with a lift of one shoulder. “But it was a poorly done job. Whoever did it doesn’t know much about shooting, that’s for sure.”
Her head was aching again. “I don’t know what to think, Joe,” she said quietly. “This has all been…overwhelming.”
A small laugh escaped him. “I’m sure it has. You’ve been through a whole lot, Annie. I’m sorry for my part in it.”
Turning her face to his, she looked up into his face, seeing his features illuminated by the setting sun. There was something peaceful about just sitting here with him, finally feeling her heart at rest. She could tell he felt it too. The torment was gone from his expression as he looked back at her.
“Thank you for telling me the truth, Joe,” she murmured quietly, turning her face back towards the sunset. “I sure am sorry you’ve had to go through all this on your own. I guess we both know what that’s like.”
“What do you mean?” he asked a little gruffly, as though he was struggling to contain his emotions.
She smiled at him. “I mean, I guess we both know what it’s like to be lonely. To feel as though you ain’t got no one else to turn to. To feel so alone that you think your heart might break from the pain.” Swallowing the ache in her throat, she looked at their joined hands and felt something lift inside her. “But not anymore.”
Joe’s chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. Despite her uncertainty, Annie gave in to what she was feeling and rested her head on his shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arm around her shoulders, holding her a little closer than before. Her doubts and fears slowly faded, as though tomorrow might never come. There was only herself and Joe, sitting on the old front porch steps, watching the sun go down.
“You’re going to stay here with me, won’t you?” she asked, nervousness sweeping her, as she realized that he might take her meaning the wrong way. “I mean, like you did before.”
His lips brushed her forehead. “I ain’t sure that’s a wise idea, Annie. I’ll sleep in the barn.”
She didn’t dare to look up at him, not sure what would follow if she did. Her mind and heart had been tormented enough already for one day, and she found herself simply remaining where she was, her heart quickening its pace for an altogether different reason.
“Just so long as you’re nearby,” she whispered.
9
The following morning, Annie was up as usual, but this time preparing breakfast for two. She was still as unsure and as uncertain as to what they were meant to do in order to bring Boyd Bretton down, as well as trying to find out who had killed Simon so as to clear Joe’s name. However, just knowing that he was nearby brought her a good deal of peace.
She wasn’t struggling with the fears about who he really might be any longer, knowing the truth about his past and believing it wholeheartedly. She wasn’t afraid of him. She didn’t want to avoid him. Instead, she wanted to find a way for him to be free from Boyd Bretton’s grip. There hadn’t come any easy answers in the night as she’d tossed and turned in her bed, but she hadn’t yet given up.
“Good morning.”
Her stomach dropped to her toes, as she turned around to see none other than Boyd Bretton striding into the kitchen, as though he owned her house. His hands were in his pockets, and he hadn’t even had the courtesy to take off his hat.
“Excuse me, Mr. Bretton,” she said, as calmly as she could. “Might you think of knocking first?” She arched one eyebrow, praying that Joe would see Bretton’s horse and would stay in the barn.
Bretton chuckled darkly. “Of course, Mrs. Hartford. I’ll make sure and remember that for next time. You see, back in my hometown, I’m well used to just being welcomed into any house I set foot in.”
Having heard the kind of man he was, Annie found this hard to believe. “Is that so?” she murmured coolly. “Well, you will find that in this town, even if you’ve got good friends to call on, it’s always polite to knock first.” She gestured towards the door. “Go on.”
Bretton’s face darkened. “I really don’t think—”
“I won’t have it any other way, Mr. Bretton,” Annie replied firmly. “For goodness sake, I haven’t even taken off my apron!”
Forcing herself to look steadily at Mr. Bretton and not at the two sets of breakfast things out on the table, she narrowed her eyes just a little as he glared back at her. She was determined to remain strong, and she refused to allow him to intimidate her just as he’d intimated everyone else in Steerhorn.
A long, pained sigh escaped from Mr. Bretton’s mouth. Inside, Annie was awash with relief. She planted her hands on her hips and waited until he’d left the room, hesitating only so she might hear the front door click closed. Then, frantically, she gathered up the extra plate, bowl, mug, spoon, and knife and hid them away, just as Mr. Bretton knocked loudly on the front door. Her heart was hammering as she approached it, opening it just a little so that she might see Mr. Bretton but not so much that he could step inside.
“Good morning, Mr. Bretton,” she said with as warm a smile as she could manage.
His jaw clenched. “Good morning, Mrs. Hartford. Might I be permitted entry into your lovely home?”
She raised one eyebrow. “And is there a reason you’ve come to call so early, Mr. Bretton? I’ve not had my breakfast yet, and the animals will need seeing to.”
His eyes grew dark, but he maintained his easy speech. “A murder is always urgent, Mrs. Hartford. I have some questions about Mr. Hartford.”
Aware that she had no other choice but to let him inside, she stepped back and held the front door open. “Into the kitchen, please,” she said grandly. “I’m just getting on with breakfast.” She deliberately didn’t offer him anything, wanting him out of her house just as soon as she could manage. Forcing herself to keep her gaze away from the window that looked out towards the barn, she indicated for Mr. Bretton to seat himself at the kitchen table before carrying on scrambling her eggs.
“That is rather a lot of eggs, Mrs. Hartford,” Bretton commented drolly. “Hungry?”
“Famished,” she agreed at once, not hesitating for a second. “After yesterday, I’m afraid I didn’t eat much at all, all day!” Pouring herself a cup of tea, she reluctantly offered him a cup, but to her relief, he refused, eying the teapot itself as though it might poison him.
“As you know, Mrs. Hartford, I am taking on the role of sheriff for the time being. That means I must know all about this dead man, Simon Hartford.” He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “You didn’t like him much, did you?”
Annie lifted her chin. “No, I didn’t,” she said plainly. “He wanted to get his hands on things and used all sorts of ways to get them. That’s not the kind of man I admire.”
Bretton scowled at her. “What was it he was doing?”
She shrugged. “Coming up here, threatening me, trying to force me to give him this house and myself—by force. Not that he succeeded.”
To her horror, Bretton chuckled darkly. “Trying to wear you down, I’d reckon. You say you didn’t give in?”
“No,” she replied, her fear like an icy hand gripping her heart. She didn’t like how Bretton was looking at her, or how he’d laughed when he’d heard what Simon had been trying to do.
“And you think he broke in here last night?” he replied, looking all about him. “Don’t look like there’s been a break in.”
She lifted her chin a notch. “That’s because it’s all been cleaned up. If you take another look, you’ll see the windows are boarded up, and there’s a bullet embedded in my front door. Two, in fact.”
Bretton didn’t even turn to look. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on Annie, making her sk
in crawl as he let his eyes travel down the length of her body and back up again.
“When did Laura come here?” he asked, changing the subject completely. “Was it you who set her up with that marriage?” He took a step closer, his jaw jutting out with anger. “I know that Joe is here. I want to know where you’re hiding him.”
His hot, furious breath brushed across her cheek as he looked down at her. His arms were folded across his chest, making her keenly aware of just how broad he was, just how much strength radiated from him. He was trying to make her feel unsafe and—despite her attempts at courage—she knew it was working.
“I introduced Laura to Robert, sure,” she admitted, her voice breathless with anxiety. “I’m glad they got themselves hitched. Seems like she needed a good man, and there’s not always a lot of them around these parts.” Where she was finding the strength to speak to him like that, she couldn’t be sure, but she knew in her heart she’d never tell this man where Joe was. She was glad that he couldn’t get to Laura, and she was glad that she’d been able to help Laura get herself married to a good, kind, hardworking man who would keep her safe for the rest of her days. Now that Bretton was here, standing right in front of her with his narrowed eyes, thin lips, and furious expression, she could well understand why Joe had been so desperate to keep his sister away from him.
Bretton let out his breath between his teeth, letting it hiss out as he made his irritation evident. “You ain’t helping, lady.” One hand shot out and grabbed her arm, holding her tightly. “Where is Joe?”
Trying to shrug him off, she shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know who this ‘Joe’ is. The only person I met is Laura.”
“Liar!”
Bretton shouted the word as his other hand grasped her arm and shook her like a rag doll. “Liar!”
“That’s enough!”
Her breath was coming so hard it was painful. Bretton dropped her immediately at the sound of Joe’s voice, turning around slowly to see his quarry framed in the doorway.