Gabriel's Law

by Pierson, Cheryl

  Owen grinned. "Thought you just might. Shall I send Jimmy over to your place, or home?"

  Brandon hesitated. He didn't want Jimmy at his place. Jay's place. He didn't want Jay to ever have to deal with Jimmy again. But it wasn't in him to send Jimmy home alone. Arnie would have to go into town, to Doc's office.

  Had Carver acted alone? Or did he have an accomplice? Would Jimmy be safe? He needed some answers before he sent the boy away by himself. It was best that he was among other people for now, as long as he could behave.

  "Our place," he murmured.

  Relief flooded Allie's face.

  "At least, for now." He turned away and started after Doc.

  Allie took his hand, almost shyly, and he stopped. "I want to go with you," she said.

  "You might not like what I have to say."

  She squeezed his hand. "I won't interfere."

  He turned away from her and walked through the door just as Jimmy stood up to leave. Doc shot Brandon an exasperated glance, then turned back to Smith, who lay sprawled on the dirty mattress in the corner of the shack.

  Brandon laid a palm on Jimmy's shoulder, and the boy looked up at him.

  "No problems, Jim. You understand?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Head back over to our place. If you hurry, you'll catch the others. Sam and Ben are in charge."

  Jimmy nodded, all trace of animosity wiped from his expression. He hurried past Brandon and ran after the other boys.

  Brandon slowly raised his gaze to Arnie Smith. Doc was putting a new bandage over the wound in Arnie's side.

  "You gonna kill me now, Gabriel?" Fear wore a thin track in Arnie's voice, and Brandon let the satisfaction slide through him.

  "I should."

  "You would, if there were no witnesses," Smith whined.

  Brandon's smile was cold. "Well, having witnesses didn't stop you. You had the whole damn town helping you, there at the livery stable."

  Arnie winced as he tried to move. From outside, they could hear Owen dragging Carver's body off the porch to the ground.

  "Allie fixed that." Smith waved a hand at his wounded kneecap. "Busted me up good."

  Doc snorted. "Luckily, she was in a charitable mood. It could've been a lot worse." He started for the door.

  "Reckon you'll want me to pack up and move," Smith muttered, meeting Brandon's gaze.

  "No," Brandon replied flatly. "I don't want you going anywhere. I want you in Spring Branch where I can keep an eye on you."

  "But—"

  "No buts, Smith. You're going to be a model citizen from here on out. You're going to have a talk with your friends, and end this hostility between us."

  "Don't have any friends," Smith said. "After…what happened, they—" He broke off, clearing his throat. "They all left me pretty high and dry. Only friend I had left, I thought, was Tom."

  "What about his partner?"

  "I can deal with him. He ain't all that smart."

  Brandon regarded him in silence for a moment, then, "I'm not killing you, Smith, because you have a son to finish raising. But I have a son, now too – and a passel of boys that are counting on me. If it comes to you or me, that this place is too small for both of us, you'll be the one to go. If that means I have to kill you to protect my boys, my woman, my land… I'll do it."

  "I know."

  "Don't forget."

  Arnie looked past Brandon to where Allie stood. "I really did want you, Allie. Not just the land."

  "It doesn't matter, Arnie. I'm with the only man I've ever loved."

  Brandon glanced at her when she spoke, the truth of her words rolling over him in her tone and her look. She meant it. In that moment, Brandon knew they would never be separated again, if Allie had any say in the matter. Her unconditional love and acceptance was a gift he never thought he'd have. She was handing it to him – telling the world they belonged together and let the nay-sayers be damned.

  Arnie nodded, looking down. "I see that." After a moment, he met Brandon's steady gaze once more, understanding in his expression.

  "Who else was in on your plan – other than Tom Carver?"

  It took him a few seconds to answer. "Tom, he was the main one. The others – they joined in, but…they haven't been too helpful since…well, since all that happened." He waved a hand at his wounded leg.

  "Let me tell you – exactly – what I expect, Smith, so there'll be no misunderstanding." Brandon's voice was hard-edged. He didn't want to have to do this – ever again. Once should be enough, to insure the safety of all of them…Allie and the boys.

  "If I have one more piece of trouble from anyone in town, I'll come looking for you. And when I find you, I will kill you. When I say 'trouble,' I'm talking about this: None of the boys better be harmed. They'll be attending school, and I don't expect any problems from any one in town over that, including your son and his friends."

  Smith nodded. "Anything else?"

  Brandon gave a low chuckle. "Hell, yes. There's a lot else – I expect to come to Spring Branch to conduct my business. I don't want to have to consider the fact that I might have some two-bit son of a bitch hiding around the next bend in the road waiting for me or Allie or the boys. It's going to be your job to make sure everyone in town gets the message that you and I are on the same page, Smith. Anyone steps out of line, it's you I'll come looking for."

  "That ain't fair!"

  "Well, anyone you run across that can't understand the situation, you let me know, and we'll go visit them together. Otherwise, you'd better take care of it."

  He nodded slowly. "I will. I guess."

  Unspoken understanding passed between them. Without a doubt, Brandon knew everything would be made right, and soon. "Let's go," he murmured, turning for the door as he reached to take Allie's hand once more. Suddenly, he couldn't stay one minute longer in the confines of the shack with the smell of Tom Carver's blood and Arnie Smith's childish petulance. He wanted to be done with it all. He wanted to go home.

  * * * * *

  Allie glanced back at Doc as she followed Brandon out of the shack. He gave her a quick nod, reassuring her that all would be well. She didn't even meet Arnie Smith's eyes. Brandon immediately commanded her full attention, his grip tightening on hers as they stepped out onto the porch.

  Carver's upper body and head was wrapped in a rug. The corpse lay on the ground, along the length of one side of the porch. Owen had already pumped some water and hastily washed the wooden slats that had been stained with Carver's blood.

  Brandon took a long, deep breath of air as he led Allie down the steps and out into the clearing, his mouth set in a grim line. It couldn't be easy for him, Allie thought, physically or emotionally. He was trying not to show any weakness. It was important that he hide it, from her, but especially from Arnie Smith.

  She lengthened her strides to keep up better with him. He'd slowed some, whether unable or simply unwilling to keep up the pace, she wasn't sure. It didn't matter. He needed rest. His face still bore the evidence of the beating he'd taken, his gun hand better than before, but not ready for what he'd had to do today.

  Once again, worry rose up inside her. She couldn't stop him. He would do whatever he determined he needed to do. And now, he had more responsibility than he'd ever had before in his life – at a time when he should be recovering from what Arnie's town thugs had done to him.

  Regret welled inside her along with guilt. It wasn't as if she'd planned for this to happen – but she couldn't deny the unmitigated relief she felt at having him back in her life once more. Still…she couldn't help wondering if he'd had other plans before she'd ridden into town and held off Arnie Smith's wolves.

  "Brandon—"

  He glanced at her, but didn't stop. He couldn't, she realized. He had pushed himself to the extreme limits of his endurance, and was just doing his best to see an end to it.

  "Brandon, I'm sorry."

  "For what?"

  She let go of his hand, laying her palm on his upper ar
m to slow him even more. "Everything."

  There was a flash of vulnerable questioning in his dark eyes when he turned to look at her. He came to a stop. "Allie? What are you saying, here?"

  She took a deep breath. She had to offer him the choice. To let him understand that as much as he meant to her, it meant more to know he didn't feel obligated. That he was staying because he wanted to. Because he wanted her, Jay, and the dream.

  She moistened her dry lips. "I don't want to be a burden to you – now or ever."

  "You never have been," he answered solidly.

  "I know…this idea of mine was – well, kind of sprung on you." She shrugged, not sure how to proceed. But she had to be honest. "Even seeing me again was unexpected."

  "For both of us." The uncertainty in his smile nearly undid her.

  "Yes, but – what I'm trying to say is that I knew my plan all along – but you didn't. It was a surprise…a shock, I imagine. And maybe, now that you've had a chance to see what's in store, you'll—" She broke off, steeling herself. "Maybe you'll want to walk away from it."

  He stared at her a moment before walking a few steps from where she stood. He put his good hand on the smooth bark of a tall old sycamore tree, and then lowered his head. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough. "Is that what you think of me, Allison? That I'd leave you, now?"

  "I just want you to know you aren't obligated."

  His head came up swiftly. "You say that like it's dirty."

  Her stomach clenched. He was taking this all wrong. "No." She walked to him and put her hand up against his cheek. "Brandon, obligation isn't a dirty word. I just want…desire…with it. I don't want you to stay because you feel like I can't handle this on my own."

  "'This'?"

  "The cattle, the boys…"

  He snorted. "You can't, Allie." She bristled, until the teasing light warmed his eyes. "But that's not why I'm staying. I love you. I always have." He moved away from her again, starting down the narrow, barely discernible pathway. "It's going to be a challenge all the way around. But believe me, I desire you much more than the weight of the obligation."

  It was all she'd ever wanted to hear from him. Pretty words would never be Brandon's way. But she didn't need them. Her heart was so full right now, she felt the love, the emotion disguised in the rough tease.

  "You spent a helluva long time convincing me that we belonged together, Allie." He put his hand out for her, and she wasn't sure if he was reassuring her or steadying himself. Maybe both. Wasn't that what love was? Give and take, reassurance and comfort. "You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

  Allie took his hand as they started toward the cabin again. "Not on your life, Brandon Gabriel." She stopped to kiss his cheek. "You're mine now. I've got the marriage papers to prove it."

  He was silent a moment before he spoke. "You never needed those, Allie. You've had me a lot longer than you thought, and with something just as binding."

  "What was that?"

  He grinned. "A blue hair ribbon, sweetheart. You tied my heart up with that damned ribbon so tight I couldn't have gotten away if I'd wanted to."

  "I—" Before she could respond, the sound of a horse thundering around the bend of trees ahead pulled her attention away.

  "Mama! Pa!" Jay rode Reya into their view, his body molded close to the horse as he hung on tight.

  "No saddle," Brandon muttered, but there was admiration in his tone. Allie knew he was thinking of the danger, even as he recognized Jay's skill with the animal.

  "Come quick!" He somehow managed to get the huge beast stopped before he ran over them. "The cows are here! Already!" He slid down from the horse, his dark eyes shining with happiness and excitement.

  "A challenge, I believe you said?" Allie touched Jay's ebony hair, and then looked back toward where Brandon stood. He moved past her, grabbing a fistful of mane, and swung himself up onto the horse's back.

  He expertly guided Reya with his knee as she pranced and turned in a circle. Allie lifted Jay up to seat him in front of Brandon, then reached to grip Brandon's good left hand as he pulled her up behind him.

  "We're up to it, I think, Allie." Brandon glanced over his shoulder at her, and she could have sworn she saw the same spark of excitement in his eyes that Jay had worn seconds earlier. His right hand rested on Jay's shoulder a moment. "Let's head for home, son."

  They had a burned barn, nineteen young men to raise, and five-hundred head of cattle with no pens. But they were together, at last, and Allie had never felt so hopeful in her life.

  Chapter 24

  As they came around the next bend, Allie could hear the bawling cattle. She felt Brandon's body tighten with anticipation.

  Then, the cabin and the cattle all came into view, and Brandon drew Reya to a slow halt.

  Allie's breath left her, as Brandon's did, beneath her palms.

  "See, just like I said!" Jay twisted around, a mile-wide grin on his face as he looked up at Brandon. "Something wrong, Pa?"

  Brandon didn't answer for a moment, and Allie laid her head against his back gently. He reached back to pat her leg in understanding. This really was their dream come true, and there was no need for words between them.

  "No, son. Nothing's wrong. Not one thing." The pride in Brandon's voice touched Allie as nothing else could.

  "They're all ours, Pa."

  Allie's eyes burned hot at the same tone in Jay's words. There was an understanding between them, already.

  "Yeah," Brandon breathed, resting his hand on Jay's shoulder. "They're all ours."

  "Shouldn't we go on down?"

  "Just lookin', Jay."

  Allie smiled at Brandon's roundabout way of asking Jay to have a little patience – something Brandon was usually a bit short on himself. He half-turned, kissing the top of Allie's head. "Ready?"

  She nodded, content, and raised her eyes to his. "Take as long as you need, Bran. Long as you want," she amended.

  "I've got the rest of my life," he murmured huskily. "The rest of my life to look at this." He turned around and set the horse to a slow walk.

  The boys were milling about as excitedly as the cattle were, two of the drovers staying near where they'd gathered.

  Ben spotted them, pointing a finger their way as he spoke to the men. One of the punchers turned to look at them and kneed his mount in their direction.

  He approached them with an affable grin, tipping his dusty hat to Allie. "I'm Fred Barnes, ramrod for this outfit. Are you Mrs. Taylor?"

  "Yes," she said. "But it's Mrs. Gabriel now, Mr. Barnes. My husband, Brandon." They shook, and Jay put his hand out too. "My son, Jay."

  Fred shook Jay's hand solemnly. "Jay. Good to meet you." His gaze returned to Brandon. "I see you got a start on your pens, but—"

  Brandon nodded. "Puts us in kind of a bind."

  Fred glanced at the charred remains of the barn, his eyes returning to Brandon's bruised face. "You run into some trouble?"

  "Didn't mean to, Mr. Barnes. Trouble seems to know right where to find me these days."

  Allie felt Brandon's muscles tighten as the two men sized each other up. Finally, Barnes glanced back toward the unfinished fence line. "The boys an' me have strung many a fence wire. Day's early yet. Lemme see how they feel about givin' a hand, here."

  Allie sensed proud denial hovering in Brandon. Before he could reply, she smiled at the ramrod and slid down from the horse quickly. "We can pay for your help, Mr. Barnes, and I'll throw in a good meal."

  "The money's appreciated, Mrs. Gabriel, but I have a feeling it'll be the food that'll make 'em want to stay and help." He tipped his hat again and rode away.

  Jay slid down and ran to where the other boys stood under the shade of a black oak.

  Brandon leaned forward gingerly, dismounting in a fluid motion despite his injuries. When he turned to Allie, she could see the barest hint of anger in his expression.

  "You would've said no to him."

  Brandon reached for the reins, turning h
is back to Allie momentarily. "Allison, you shoulda let me handle it. It's my decision—"

  The rest of his sentence was cut off when he turned to face her as she put her mouth to his. Oh, yes. This was what she wanted, and what he needed. She felt him try to resist, warring with himself before he gave in, opening his mouth to her as she put her tongue inside him, along his teeth, touching his tongue, sliding over his lower lip in a wet caress.

  "Allie," he whispered raggedly. "They're watchin' you."

  She nipped at his bottom lip, fingers at the back of his neck, locked in the length of his dark hair. "No," she murmured. "They're deciding whether to put up fence or not."

  He gave a short laugh, his eyes smoldering with heat as they met hers. "If you really believe that—"

  "I don't care." She put her tongue out, licking his lip as if she were tasting ice cream.

  "We're gonna need supplies." His voice was low and edgy. Allie sucked his lip into her mouth, nipping it gently before she pulled back. He groaned, leaning toward her slightly, his eyes smoky with desire when he opened them. "Night can't come soon enough," he whispered.

  Allie's lips curved teasingly at the blatant want in his tone. "It'll be a long wait – for both of us."

  He sighed. "Here comes Mr. Barnes now."

  Allie stepped away.

  Fred Barnes rode up with a wide grin on his weathered face, stopping a few feet from where Allie and Brandon stood. "We'll be glad to help. We're looking forward to some decent vittles, ma'am." He looked at Brandon. "Can we borrow some of the boys to help out? We'll get that fence strung up in no time."

  Brandon nodded. "They'll be glad to lend a hand. They're new at this. Still look at it as fun."

  Barnes chuckled. "We'll get started."

  * * * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Ben and Sam had hitched up the wagon with what tack they had salvaged from the fire.

  Sam led the team toward the house just as Allie came through the door, tucking something into the pocket of the cotton skirt she wore.

  She nodded to Sam as he reluctantly handed her the reins. "You need someone to go to town with you, Miss Allie."

  Allie gave him a quick smile. "Yes, Sam, you're right." She knew Brandon would never let her go alone. It would be nearly impossible to convince him to let her go at all, even if she took Ben and Sam with her – but there really was no choice. She couldn't wait on Doc – not with all the hungry mouths she had to feed. If they left now, they could be back within three hours – if they loaded quickly. She'd need the boys for that. Brandon would argue that he needed them on the fence line, but Ben and Sam were the strongest, most capable of the boys and she'd need them to load and get back as quickly as possible.