Summer Breeze

by Catherine Anderson

  Tansy. As he entered the Pritchard shack, he kept remembering Rachel’s face as she had described the child’s blood-soaked dress. And her mother, with no face. Rage roiled within him. How could these filthy excuses for human beings have done such things? It went beyond evil. To sight in on a little girl and pull the trigger? Joseph shuddered as he upended beds, opened cupboards, rifled through drawers. Bastards. He wanted to find enough evidence to see them hang. Nothing less.

  David stepped on a loose floorboard and dropped to his knees to rip at the planks like a madman. As Joseph went to help him, his nostrils were filled with the stench of the men who frequented the house.

  They ripped up half the floor. David had just jumped down to search beneath the remaining planks when a shout sounded from outside. It was Charley Banks. “We found it! Gold! A bunch of gold!”

  David and Joseph raced outside. Charley stood outside the barn doors, holding up two partially filled burlap bags. Joseph could see by the strain on the man’s face that the sacks weighed a great deal. He and his brother ran across the pocked yard.

  “Are you sure it’s gold?” David demanded.

  Charley dropped the bags at his feet and reached into his shirt pocket to extract a chunk of yellow. “It’s gold, all right.” He turned the piece of ore in the sunlight. “Christ almighty, that must be a thick vein.”

  Joseph had seen the vein, and Charley was right; it ran deep into the rock. The tension eased from his body. The Pritchards were finished. Justice would be done. The blood on a little girl’s pink dress would be avenged. And perhaps, somewhere along the way, Rachel would finally find peace, knowing that her family’s killers had been punished.

  David opened both bags, stared at the contents, and cursed vilely. Turning to Joseph, he said, “You had it right all along, Joseph. Those filthy bastards slaughtered the Hollisters.”

  Following that pronouncement, Joseph heard a shout. He turned to see Jeb Pritchard and his boys riding in on sweaty horses. Jeb swung down from the saddle before his sons even got their horses reined to a stop.

  “So it was you!” he cried. “You cut our fence wire and chased our cattle off our land!” He turned a fiery gaze toward his house, saw the dismantled porch, and shook his fist. “What in God’s name have you done? You come in here and tear apart our home? What’s the matter with you?” He sent Joseph an accusing glare. “Enough of this bullshit. I ain’t done nothin’ wrong. My boys ain’t, either. You’ve bedeviled me for weeks. I’m thinking you learned nothin’ from what happened to your pa. Hanged, he was! And for somethin’ he didn’t do! Now you’re hell-bent to do the same to me and mine!”

  For just an instant, Joseph wondered if he’d been wrong. He disliked Jeb Pritchard. The man was so filthy that Joseph could have scraped the crud from his skin with the dull edge of a knife blade. But did Jeb’s failure to bathe regularly make him evil?

  Then Joseph’s gaze shifted to the burlap bags at Charley’s feet. Hard evidence didn’t lie. Pritchard had been caught red-handed. Bags of gold, hidden in his barn. That hen nesting in his bathtub hadn’t laid two bags of golden eggs.

  “Hands behind your back,” David ordered. “And I’m warning you, Pritchard, if you give me a moment’s grief, I’ll shoot you and dance on your grave.”

  Men surrounded Jeb’s sons. Alan started to reach for his gun.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Joseph warned him.

  Charley Banks jerked the thin younger man off his horse and none too gently pulled his arms behind his back while Garrett Buckmaster tied his wrists.

  “You’ll regret this!” Jeb cried. “And, by God, you’ll fix all that you tore up. You got no right to come onto my land and destroy what’s mine.”

  “We found the gold in your barn, Jeb,” David said coldly.

  “What gold?”

  “That gold.” David pointed to the bags. “And I’ll venture a guess that we haven’t found the half of it.”

  “You’re crazy. Gold in my barn? You think I’d wear shoes with holey soles if I had gold stashed away? And where would I get it? Huh? Ain’t like it grows on trees.”

  “I found the mine,” Joseph inserted. “You didn’t kill my dog, by the way, and it’s lucky for you.”

  Just as Joseph spoke, he heard a distant barking and turned to see a red-gold ball of fur streaking through the trees. Buddy, in a flat-out run, barking every inch of the way. As the dog skidded to a stop, Joseph cried, “When are you gonna learn that stay means stay?”

  Buddy lunged at Joseph’s boots, snapping and snarling. Then the dog whirled, ran off a ways, and stopped to look back.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Joseph asked.

  The shepherd dashed back, circling Joseph, nipping at his calves, and barking wildly. Buckmaster laughed. “Damn, Joseph. Dog needs lessons on the difference betwixt people and cows. He’s trying to herd you.”

  When Buddy ran off again, Joseph gazed thoughtfully after him. “He got knocked into a cocked hat yesterday. Maybe his brains are still rattled.” Only even as Joseph spoke, he looked into his dog’s intelligent amber eyes and doubted his own words. “What’s wrong, boy?”

  The shepherd wheeled in a circle, then darted back toward the trees—and home. Joseph knew it was crazy, but his gut told him that the dog was trying to tell him something. “I gotta go,” he told David.

  “What?” David cried incredulously. “We aren’t finished here yet.”

  Joseph was already racing for his horse. “Something’s wrong at home. I gotta go!”

  Joseph swung up into the saddle, turned Obie, and urged him forward into a run. Buddy barked and took off through the trees, his white paws moving so fast his legs were a blur. Feeling just a little foolish, Joseph leaned low over Obie’s neck, guiding the stallion to follow the dog.

  When they reached the fence line that divided the Bar H from Pritchard’s land, Buddy sailed over the four strands of barbed wire as if they weren’t there. Joseph nudged Obie with his heels. The stallion’s powerful muscles bunched to leap, and over the wire they went.

  As they neared the creek, Joseph saw the smoke—a huge mushroom of roiling grayish black reaching ever higher into the blue sky. Oh, Jesus. He became one with his horse, bent legs supporting his weight, torso parallel to Obie’s back, his cheek riding the animal’s sweaty neck. Rachel.

  Joseph’s heart almost stopped beating when he saw the house. The place was a blazing inferno, flames leaping far higher than the oak tree. He was out of the saddle and running before Obie skidded to a complete stop. He saw Ray Meeks, Amanda Hollister’s foreman, racing back from the spring, water sloshing from the bucket he carried.

  “Help me!” Ray yelled. “You gotta help me!”

  But Joseph knew it was already too late. The entire house was afire, the heat rolling from it so intense that it seared his face. Rachel. He dropped to his knees and screamed, “No! No, God, no-oo-o!”

  And then he heard wild barking. Buddy was at the courtyard gate, frantically trying to dig under it. Joseph staggered to his feet. Since his marriage to Rachel, he’d had duplicate keys made for the kitchen doorways and courtyard gate so he could let himself in and out. Digging in his pocket as he ran, he pulled out the three skeleton keys. Which one went to the gate? He was so terrified that he couldn’t remember their shapes.

  He reached the ironwork, shoved in one of the keys, and sobbed with relief when the lock turned. The metal was so hot that it blistered his hands as he jerked it open. “Rachel? Rachel!”

  He ran into the courtyard, looking everywhere for her. The plants were already scorched. A birdhouse hanging from an iron bar burst into flame and exploded like an Independence Day firework. Joseph threw up an arm to protect his face, knowing that Rachel couldn’t have survived this, not even if she’d come out into the courtyard. He moved toward what had once been the porch, yelling her name, wanting to throw himself into the flames and die with her. But something inside the burning house exploded just then. The force of it knocked
him clear off his feet and backward.

  He lay sprawled on the ground for a moment, dazed and disoriented. Then he rolled onto his knees. As he came erect, he saw Buddy in a corner of the enclosure digging at the dirt. Joseph scrambled over on his knees. Not dirt. A pile of wet blankets. Joseph prodded the hot wool, felt firm softness underneath. Rachel.

  He grabbed her up in his arms, blankets and all, lunged to his feet, and ran from the courtyard with his shoulders hunched around his burden. When he reached the old oak, he dropped back to his knees, pulled away the blankets, and saw her pale, soot-streaked face.

  “Rachel?” He grabbed her up into his arms again. “Don’t be dead. You can’t be dead. Rachel!”

  Her body jerked. Then she coughed. Joseph made a fist in her wet hair and cried like a baby. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ll never leave you again. I swear to God, I’ll never leave you again.”

  “Joseph,” she croaked. “Tried—to—kill me. Wet the bl-blankets in the p-pond.” She coughed again. “Saved myself.”

  Then she looked past his shoulder and he felt her whole body tense. Joseph knew it had just dawned on her that she was out in the open. He quickly drew the blanket back over her face. “You’re all right, honey. You’re all right. I’ll get you somewhere safe. I’ll get you somewhere safe.”

  She turned her face against his shirt, her hands knotted on his arms. Joseph was about to reassure her again when Buddy let loose with a low, vicious snarl. Joseph darted a surprised glance at his dog. The shepherd’s hackles were up. Turning, Joseph saw that Ray Meeks was staggering toward them. The closer the man came, the more viciously Buddy growled.

  Such behavior was completely unlike Buddy. Joseph felt his wife trembling against him. Was she terrified by the openness, as he’d first thought, or by the man? He spoke softly to his dog and told him to sit. Buddy obeyed and stopped snarling, but Joseph could tell the animal was ready to attack if Meeks made a wrong move.

  “Ah, Jesus, Joseph, I’m so sorry.” Tears trailed down the man’s cheeks, leaving pale tracks. “I am so sorry. Amanda took gravely ill. I promised Darby that I’d look after Rachel while he went to be with her. And I tried, I swear to you. I only went as far as the barn to unsaddle my horse and give it some water, and I never took my eyes off the house the entire time.”

  Wariness tightened every muscle in Joseph’s body.

  “I don’t know how they sneaked in on me like that. The first I knew they were here was when I saw them riding away, and then flames started shooting up from the house. I tried my damnedest to put the fire out, but they’d doused the whole place with kerosene.” Ray held out his hands, which looked to be charred. “I tried, partner. I put everything I had into saving her. I’m so sorry.”

  Meeks had missed his calling as an actor. If Joseph’s wife and dog hadn’t been telling him different, he would have believed the man was sincere.

  “Who rode away?” Joseph asked, stalling for time. He had never in his life been afraid to draw down on another man, but he held Rachel in his arms. He was fast enough to take Meeks out. He had every confidence in that. But he couldn’t slap leather with Rachel in the line of fire. “Who set fire to the place?”

  Ray passed a sleeve over his tear-filled eyes. “I can’t be positive. They were some distance off and riding fast. But it looked like Jeb Pritchard and his boys.”

  Meeks glanced at the sodden lump of wool in Joseph’s arms. “I’d give my right arm to undo this. I’m so sorry about your wife. I should never have gone to the barn.”

  Joseph prayed that Rachel wouldn’t move. Meeks had tried to kill her and clearly believed that he’d been successful in the attempt. Joseph bent his head. He needed to put distance between himself and Rachel before Meeks realized she wasn’t dead and went for his gun. Only what if Rachel cried out when Joseph tried to move away from her?

  Before Joseph could think what to do, he heard the sound of approaching horses. Meeks turned to squint into the distance. When he recognized the riders, his blackened face went pale.

  Amanda Hollister and Darby McClintoch rode in. Despite her palsy, Amanda swung out of the saddle with the skill and grace born of a lifetime on horseback. She quickly jerked her rifle from its boot, turned aching blue eyes on Ray, and said, “I dumped the tea in a potted plant.”

  Ray licked his lips, gave a shaky laugh. “Pardon me?”

  “What was in it?” Amanda’s whole body was shaking. “Arsenic? You were so worried about making sure I drank it that I grew suspicious. Then I noticed an odd taste. While you had your back turned, I dumped it out. You thought I’d swallowed it all when you left to come here for Darby. You figured I’d be dead by the time he reached my place, that I’d never be able to say I hadn’t sent for him.”

  Joseph looked back and forth from Ray to Amanda, not understanding any of the exchange. Poisoned tea?

  “You killed my nephew.” Amanda raised the rifle to her shoulder. “You murdered his wife and Daniel and little Tansy. Shot them down in cold blood. I never wanted to believe it was you. The very thought broke my heart. God forgive me, it was so much easier to lay the blame on Jeb. So I turned a blind eye and told myself that my son, my long-lost child, couldn’t have done such a heinous thing.”

  “Put that gun down, Ma.” Meeks laughed again. “You aren’t going to shoot me.”

  It hit Joseph then, like a fist to his jaw. Ray’s eyes. The first time Joseph met the man, he’d experienced an odd sense of familiarity and asked Ray if they’d met before. Now Joseph knew what it was about Ray that had struck a chord in his memory. His eyes. He had Rachel’s arresting blue eyes and her fine features as well.

  “Now you’ve killed my Rachel,” Amanda went on, her voice beginning to shake as badly as her body was. “I loved that girl like my own. How could you do this?”

  Ray held his hands out to his sides and retreated another pace. “You’re talking crazy. Arsenic in your tea? You’re my mother. I love you. Why would I do such a thing?”

  “That’s a good question.” Amanda curled her finger over the trigger. “Stand fast, Raymond. If you take another step, I’ll drop you in your tracks.”

  “This is insane!” Ray cried.

  “Is it? I noticed that someone had been in my desk last week. Then I discovered that my will was missing. I thought I might have misplaced it. But then it reappeared in the drawer, right where I always kept it. Even then, I didn’t want to believe what my common sense was telling me. What a sentimental old fool I was, hoping against hope that my boy was everything he pretended to be. But the truth was, you took the will to get legal counsel to see where you would stand if I married Darby. I’m sure you learned that everything I own will become his, leaving you with nothing.”

  Amanda shook her head sadly. “You wanted it all. Didn’t you, Ray? A little gold here and there wasn’t enough to satisfy your greed. Getting my little spread after I died wasn’t grand enough for you, either. You wanted the gold, you wanted this ranch, you wanted everything. And time was suddenly running out. I was days away from marrying Darby. You had to stop that from happening, and you had to kill Rachel, as well, to take possession of this ranch. Joseph had found the mine. You knew you’d be able to do no more digging without running the risk of getting caught.”

  “You gave me up!” Ray yelled. Swinging an arm to encompass the ranch, he cried. “It should’ve been mine. I had as much right to it as Henry, maybe more! You worked harder to make a go of this place than his father ever did. But what did I get? A tiny little spread where I’d have to scratch out a living for the rest of my life. Oh, yes, and the gold! Some compensation that was, none of it really mine to take, and me taking a huge chance every time I came over here to chip rock.”

  Ray moved back another step. “You talk about your family. What about me? Then, to add insult to injury, you decide to get married when you’re seventy years old with one foot already in the grave. I’ve worked that meager, parched piece of land for almost eight years, waiting for you to die so it�
�d be mine, and you were going to take even that from me.”

  “What happened in the past is over. I eventually found you, didn’t I? And I didn’t willingly give you up. My father forced me to do it.”

  “A lot of comfort that is to me. I got cheated out of everything, even the Hollister name!”

  “It’s no excuse, Raymond. You’ve wrongfully taken human life. You have to pay for that.”

  “Hang, you mean?” Ray shook his head. “No way. For once in your life, be a decent mother and just let me go.”

  “I can’t do that,” Amanda said sadly.

  Ray went for his gun.

  “Don’t, Raymond!” Amanda cried. “Please, for the love of God, don’t.”

  Joseph rolled sideways to cover Rachel with his body, but before he could draw his weapon, Amanda Hollister fired her rifle. Ray’s blue eyes filled with incredulity. He dropped his chin to stare stupidly at the blood blossoming over the front of his gray shirt. The revolver fell from his hand.

  “You shot me,” he whispered.

  And then he dropped facedown on the dirt, shuddered, and died.

  The rifle slipped from Amanda’s trembling grasp. On unsteady legs, she made her way to her son, dropped to her knees, wrapped her arms around his limp body, and started to sob.

  “God forgive me. My baby boy. God forgive me. God forgive me.”

  Darby knelt beside her. As he laid a hand on her heaving back, he sent Joseph a tortured look. There were no words. Amanda Hollister had just killed her own son. Joseph sorely wished that it hadn’t been necessary. But sadly it was. Ray had gone for his gun. He wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot. Amanda had done what she had to do to keep her son from hurting any more innocent people.

  Nevertheless, the memory of this day would haunt her for the rest of her life.