“Grace?” Jarrett whispered as he inched closer. “Is that you?”
The figure lifted her head and looked from side to side.
“It’s all right, darlin’,” he said.
Before Jarrett could take one more step toward the clearing, another voice cut through the air like a knife.
“That’s close enough,” Clay shouted as he took half a step out from behind one of the boulders at least forty to fifty yards away from the fire. He had a rifle in hand and held it to one shoulder. “I got you in my sights and I know there ain’t no more of you on their way.”
“You’re done, Clay,” Jarrett said. “I’m taking this girl along with any other prisoners you have with you and we’re going home.”
Clay moved a few steps farther from the boulder. Squinting at Jarrett, he asked, “That you, rancher?”
“The name’s Jarrett Pekoe and yes. It’s me.”
“Now, this is a surprise! I figured there’d be a posse comin’, but I guessed that sheriff in Flat Pass was lazy enough to give me a bigger head start.”
The outlaw’s words barely registered in Jarrett’s head. All he could think about was the slender figure tied to the tree. “This ends here,” he said. “Your men are all dead or in jail.”
“Well, that still leaves me,” Clay said. “And that’s all I ever needed.”
From somewhere nearby, a baby’s voice rose to a shrill cry.
“You want that little brat,” Clay snarled, “you’re welcome to it. I only kept it alive this long to keep the womenfolk busy.”
“Where’s the rest of the people you’re holding?” Jarrett asked.
Even from a distance, Clay’s leering smile could plainly be seen. “You mean that brat and its mother? They’re close. You harm a hair on my head and I’ll put an end to both of ’em real quick. You kill me, and I swear you won’t never find that woman.”
“Tell me where they are!” Jarrett roared. He already had his pistol drawn but didn’t have a clear shot. When he heard movement beside him, his finger twitched against the Colt’s trigger.
“Take a breath,” Lem said from directly beside Jarrett. “Let me handle this.”
“Lem?” Clay shouted. “No matter how many times I heard that you ran off and no matter how many told me it was true, I didn’t want to believe it. I never had you pegged as a coward.”
“I’m not a coward, Clay.”
“Stop right where you are!” Clay snapped as he pressed the rifle’s stock even tighter against his shoulder and set his feet in a firing stance. “Show me them hands!”
Lem raised his hands and opened his jacket to reveal the gun belt at his side.
Shifting to a more casual posture, Clay asked, “Where’s that rifle of yours?”
“Didn’t think you’d let me get far if I was carrying it.”
“You’re right about that. I’m surprised you even showed your face. Ain’t it more like you to hide somewhere and try to pick me off from a distance?”
Lem shrugged. “Couldn’t get a clear shot from a distance. I imagine that’s because you believed what those others were saying about me a bit more than you just said.”
“Maybe that’s so. Did you come all the way out here to prove yourself to be something other than a dog that scurried away with its tail between his legs?”
Taking a step forward, Lem said, “I’ve already heard the insults from Dave and the others. They were the last things they said to anyone on this earth.”
“Not another step!” Clay said.
“Maybe we can rush him,” Jarrett whispered.
Keeping his eyes on Clay, Lem said, “He’s ready for that.”
“But if we both start shooting . . .”
“He’s keeping his distance for a reason,” Lem said in a louder voice. “He likes to stay outside effective pistol range, which means our shots will go wide while his stay nice and level. Ain’t that right, Clay?”
“I learn from the best,” Clay replied. “Hanging back does have its advantages after all.”
“Let me take the baby, at least,” Jarrett said. “You told me I could—”
“That was before I saw who was with you,” Clay cut in. “The brat’s here with me where I can reach her with the back of my hand, the butt of this rifle, or even my bootheel if I’m so inclined.”
“Get away from her, damn you!” Jarrett roared.
Clay laughed. “I was told I might be able to get a price for this little nuisance, but didn’t think it would be much. Now I see it was worth dragging this brat along just for the show I’m getting.”
The more the men shouted back and forth, the more the baby cried. As the noise grew, Grace struggled against her ropes. She tried to shout as well, but her cries were muffled by what must have been a gag hidden beneath the sack covering her head.
“So, what now, Clay?” Lem asked. “We just stand here and yell at each other?”
“I’ve got business to conduct,” Clay replied. “Even if what you said about the others is true, that just means more cash for me. The two of you can either turn around and ride away now or I can pick you off. Doesn’t much matter to me.”
“I can get to Grace,” Jarrett whispered.
“No,” Lem quickly said. “Clay wasn’t bluffing about what he might do to the baby.”
“Could anyone do something that vile?”
Lem glanced over at him with a look that told him everything he needed to know. Even after what he’d seen and been through, Jarrett realized he hadn’t fully experienced how dark another man’s soul could be.
Even with Grace and Autumn so close, he felt more desperate and hopeless than ever. If Jen was stashed somewhere else entirely, that made things even more complicated. “What do we do, then?” Jarrett asked.
“Go on and leave,” Clay said. “Get on your horses and ride away. I’m feeling generous.”
“We can retreat now and regroup,” Jarrett offered. “If we come at him some other time from some other angle—”
“No,” Lem said in a quiet and oddly calm voice. “He’ll put a bullet into us once we’re clear. We walk away and he’ll only have more time to line up a shot. Even if he just wounds us, there’ll be less places for us to scatter.”
“Then what do we do?”
“I suggest you take what I’m offering,” Clay said. “Before I decide to cut my losses, starting with this particularly annoying one that just won’t stop crying.”
“Step back, Jarrett,” Lem said.
“Listen to your friend there,” Clay shouted. “He may be a coward, but he’s not stupid.”
Dropping his voice until it could barely be heard even by Jarrett, Lem said, “If you’re ever going to trust me . . . even for an instant . . . do what I say and step back.”
Jarrett’s mind raced through all that he knew about Lem and everything he’d done in the short time they’d known each other. All of those things, combined with the fact that he didn’t have any other viable options, brought Jarrett to one conclusion. He let out a slow breath and stepped back.
“Your turn,” Clay said.
“Is that how you want to finish this? We part ways?” Lem asked. “I would have thought you’d prefer something a bit more final.”
Clay shook his head. “You take one more little step and I’ll start cutting those losses.” For good measure, Clay took a step back himself. “This is a hard life we’ve chosen and I haven’t made it this far by being stupid. We live and die by knowing the tools of our trade. You and I both know you can’t hit me with any accuracy from where you’re standing. Not without your rifle.”
Lem’s hand flashed down to his side to draw the pistol, bring it up, and fire a shot in one fluid motion. That first shot blasted through the air and knocked Clay back. Lem fired again and knocked Clay back a second time. He then sighted
along the pistol’s barrel and squeezed his trigger to put Clay flat on his back.
As the roar of those three shots rolled through the air to dissipate like the smoke still hanging over the camp, the baby’s cry rose to a terrified pitch.
Rushing over to Lem, Jarrett said, “What on earth? I thought Clay was too far for an accurate pistol shot!”
“He was,” Lem replied as he reloaded with fresh rounds from his gun belt. “But not for this pistol. The inside of the barrel I chose is filed in such a way that improves performance. The mechanism and cylinder can hold a bullet packed with more powder than most and—”
“That gun you put together on the day we first met,” Jarrett marveled. “All those pieces you took from other pistols and put together into that one. It was all for this?”
“Yeah. Clay was right. We live and die by knowing the limits of our weapons. Ain’t no other pistol would have made that shot. Seems this one worked out even better than I’d hoped.”
Jarrett kept his Colt in hand as he ran to the spot where Clay had fallen. The outlaw wasn’t moving and the front of his shirt was so bloody that it was clear he wasn’t getting up. After kicking the outlaw’s rifle away just to be safe, Jarrett turned his attention to the source of the crying. The instant he picked the baby up, she began to settle.
“There you are, Autumn,” Jarrett cooed. “I thought I’d lost you, girl.”
“Uncle Jarrett?”
He turned around to see that Lem had cut the ropes tying the older girl to the tree and had removed her mask and gag. As soon as she was able, she rushed straight to Jarrett. Tears streamed down her face and she wrapped him up in a hug that brought a tired smile to his face.
“Thank you, Uncle Jarrett,” she said. “Thank you so much. I thought . . . I thought . . .”
“I know,” Jarrett said as he embraced her with one arm while cradling the baby in the other. “I thought so too.”
Jarrett took a few moments to look both girls over. He checked them from head to toe, looking for wounds, bruises, cuts, scrapes, anything at all that needed tending. Apart from some scuffs and bumps that could be expected on anyone making a hard journey, the girls appeared to be fine. He asked Grace if she was all right and she nodded timidly.
“What about the others?” Jarrett asked.
“What others?”
“Your mother and brother. Are they here as well? Did Clay stash them somewhere?”
Grace shook her head. Although there was sadness in her eyes, she didn’t have any more tears to shed at the moment. “They’re gone,” she whispered.
“What happened to them?”
“Scott got loose somehow back at the house. The fire had already started,” she said. “Those men had left. Scott got free and went to Mother first. When she came for me, Scott moved on to Autumn and carried her to try to find a way out. We tried windows and the back door just because they were closer, but we had to get to the front door.” Blinking as if she were looking at something very far away, Grace wiped away a few tears that poked through at the corner of her eyes. “Mother helped me and Scott carried Autumn all the way. I was almost outside when Scott fell over. There was so much fire . . . so much smoke . . .”
Jarrett held on to her tightly. Before he could tell her she didn’t need to say any more, Grace started talking again as if she absolutely needed to expel the words from her lungs.
“Scott just . . . fell down,” she said. “Mother tried to drag him a ways, but she bent down and shook him and he was just gone. He was gone. I could tell. So could she. She still tried to carry him out, but she was starting to fall over too. I started to get dizzy, so Mother grabbed me and the baby and pushed us outside to get out of that smoke. She said she just had to catch her breath and that she was going right back in for Scott. Before she could, the roof fell in. Beams started to fall. The door was blocked. It was so terrible.”
“It’s all right, honey,” Jarrett said. “There was nothing you could have done. You were so brave.”
Grace shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. I just ran.”
“That’s not true. You survived. That’s no small feat.”
“Mother . . . stayed with us for a while,” she continued. “The men took her and me and the baby. They said they were going to sell us. One night, after that man took the three of us away, Mother tried to escape. She tried to get us all away from him. She got loose somehow and was untying my ropes, telling me we were going to run and be safe again when . . . he killed her. That man,” Grace said as she looked over to Clay’s body. “He stabbed her in the back.”
Recognizing all too well the hatred brewing in the girl’s eyes, Jarrett took hold of her and spoke firmly. “This is a terrible thing,” he said. “It’s over now. We’ll all miss your parents and brother, but we need to honor their memories, not turn them into something ugly inside you. Understand me?”
Some of the rage in her eyes dimmed as Grace nodded but didn’t go out completely. It was a good start.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” she asked. “To get back the rest of what Clay stole from us?”
“You don’t worry about that. It’s just money. There’re more important things. Your aunt Catherine has a real big house and I’m sure she’ll love having you and Autumn as guests. It’ll be good for you to be with family again.”
“Will you stay there too?”
“I don’t know just yet,” Jarrett replied. “There’s still some things that need to be taken care of.”
Lem remained quiet until Jarrett approached him and asked, “You knew about Jen when you killed Clay? That she was . . . gone and he wouldn’t have been able to get her back?”
Lem nodded. “Clay wouldn’t have let her out of his sight if he was going to trade her.”
Deciding to trust Lem enough to let the matter drop right there, Jarrett introduced him to Grace. All of them wasted no time before starting their ride back south toward Nebraska.
Clay Haskel was left to rot where he’d fallen. It was better than he deserved.
Chapter 35
One month later
It was dawn and the approaching summer could be felt from the dew in the grass to the growing thickness of the air. When the men had first ridden through the gate surrounding the impressive spread that was the Triple Diamond Ranch, their numbers were smaller. Like snow rolling downhill, the group had gathered mass from its surroundings until it became something more than what it had originally been. The original members of that group were easy enough to distinguish from the rest. They were the ones carrying torches and wearing burlap masks over their heads.
The owner of the spread stepped out onto the wide porch surrounding his three-level house. He pulled his suspenders over his shoulder and ran a hand through the rumpled hair on top of his head. When he’d first seen the masked riders, he scowled as if they were nothing but a nuisance. Once he spotted the additional men that had been collected along the way, his expression became much more serious.
“What the hell is going on here?” the man on the porch asked.
One masked man separated from the rest by riding a few paces forward. He carried a torch in his left hand and used his other to continually tug at the reins of his nervously fretting horse. “John Brakefield?” he said.
“You know damn well who I am,” the man replied. “This is my ranch, my land, and my home. You’re trespassing, so I suggest you leave.”
“You’ll come with us and answer for what you’ve done.”
Brakefield cast his eyes at the crowd of men, most of whom stared right back at him through square holes cut into their masks. The rest shifted in their saddles, trying to keep their balance even though their hands were either tied behind their backs or bound to the horns on their saddles. “What I’ve done?” Brakefield replied. “You’re the ones who’ve come onto m
y land, taken my men prisoner, and made threats.”
None of the men said a word to that. The quieter they became, the eerier they appeared.
“Who sent you?” Brakefield demanded. “What right do you have to take my men hostage?”
Although the men who were tied up didn’t appear to be hurt, they obviously weren’t free to do much more than sit where they were and look frightened.
“We know about the men you hired,” announced the lead masked rider. “The men sent to put those ranchers out of business.”
“If some ranches burned down, that doesn’t have a damn thing to do with me,” Brakefield said.
“How did you know they were burned?”
“Release my men.”
“I don’t think so. Not until you tell them what kind of man they’re working for.”
Brakefield stomped to the edge of his porch. As he clenched his fists, his hands shook with the desire to take a swing at any or all of the men in front of him. “You want to know what kind of man I am? I’m the kind who’s got the law in this county and every surrounding one eating from the palm of his hand! Those men you’ve got there are just the ones on this ranch. When I call down the rest of my group, they’ll bury every last one of you!”
“You’re a killer,” the masked man said.
“You don’t know the half of it. I’m also rich enough to pay to have your families strung up in front of you and there’s not a judge within twenty counties that will make me spend so much as a single night in jail! How do you think some bunch of ignorant vigilantes will survive once I call down some real killers?”
“You mean like Clay Haskel?”
“Him and worse,” Brakefield snarled. “Now get the hell out of my sight before I burn your houses down too.”
The riders shifted in their saddles and looked at each other anxiously. The man next to the one who’d done all the talking thus far asked tentatively, “You’re the one who hired Clay Haskel?”
Vigilante Dawn Page 24