by A. T. Butler
Jacob moved away, before George could notice what he was looking at, but he wasn’t quick enough. The boy saw it right away and gasped.
“What happened? What happened here? Whose blood is this?”
“Let’s not panic,” Jacob said, putting his hand on the other’s shoulder. “That’s not enough blood to worry.”
“Not enough to worry? How can you say that? Of course I’m worried! What has that man done to my mother?”
“Hopefully nothing,” Jacob said, though in his heart he knew they couldn’t count on that. “That’s why we need to keep looking for clues. We need to know what happened here. And where he has taken them. What else do you see?”
George’s searching of the room became frantic now. Jacob stepped to the doorway and looked down the hallway, anxious that Maloney might be nearby and hear them.
“Here,” George said.
When Jacob went to look, the teenager was standing in the opposite corner of the room, near the bureau.
“All of this.” He gestured to the floor. “This was all on top of the drawers. It got knocked off.”
Jacob looked to see a framed photo and a cracked porcelain dog figurine on the floor. Damage, yes, but again it didn’t indicate what could have happened to the couple.
“Good. That’s good, George. So we know there was a struggle here. Likely your father fought back. You should be proud of him.”
“But then what happened?”
“We know they were in here long enough that he needed to light the lamp. We know one of your parents was injured, though not badly. And we know they’re gone now.”
Jacob sighed and walked back across the room, looking for a clue or sign he had missed.
“Were there any weapons in here?” he asked George.
“Oh! Yes! Let me— “ George fell to his knees to look under the bed. “No. It’s gone.”
“I’m not surprised,” Jacob said. “That would have been the first thing that Maloney got out of them.” He turned and paced back across the room the other way.
“What else would he have done?”
Jacob kept his back to George, not wanting to entertain any speculation into what a man like Maloney might have done. Short of murdering them, it could have been anything.
“George, let me ask you something. I noticed there weren’t any horses in the barn when we were in there. Where else does your family keep your animals?”
He shrugged. “Just the corral. Unless someone is riding one, but that’s not happening right now.”
“Good. That’s what I thought. Let’s check. Come here next to me.”
Jacob crossed the room to the window, but stayed to the right side of it. With the room lit from within, he knew that he could be a sitting target to anyone outside looking in. He cupped his hands to the glass and looked out, toward the corral.
It was quite dark out now, but Jacob could just barely make out Blaze across the ranch and tied under the tree by the road. The only reason he could see the horse was because he knew exactly where to look.
Between him and Blaze was the corral, where Jacob counted five horses, including Maloney’s.
“George, do you see that? The horses in the corral. Is that all of your family’s animals?”
“Let’s see … ” George also cupped his hand to the glass to look out. “Yes, that looks like all of them.”
“So, Maloney hasn’t left yet. He must still be on the property.”
“But where?”
Just as Jacob was about to withdraw from the window, a small glint of light caught his eye. Somewhere nearby another lamp had been lit. Taking care to stay as close to the edge of the glass as possible, Jacob swiveled his view to look out the other direction.
The small bit of light was coming from an open door. Jacob squinted, trying to adjust his eyes to the light.
“No,” he whispered. “George, we have to go.”
“What? What is it?”
“Did you remember to close the barn door when we left?”
“I … Yes. I’m sure of it. Or, I think I did. I must have.” George pressed his face harder to the glass. “What is it?”
“Do you see that light?”
“Yes. I— Oh no! My sisters! We have to go save them.”
“We will. We must.”
Both men left the window and hurried out of the bedroom. George elbowed Jacob out of the way in his haste to get to the home’s front door.
“George, wait!”
“But, my sisters!”
The anguished look on his face when he turned back to face the bounty hunter broke Jacob’s heart. The poor boy just wanted to help his family. But it was Jacob’s responsibility to make sure he didn’t also get hurt in doing so.
“George, we don’t know what we’re walking into,” he said sternly. “We have to assume Maloney is in there with them, with your parents and your sisters trapped, maybe hurt, we don’t know. Remember, we didn’t hear the girls scream. Who knows what could have happened? But, you have to remember. This is my job. This is what I am good at. I need you to trust me and to listen to me. I need you to follow every instruction I give you without hesitation and without arguing. Am I clear?”
“But what if—”
“Without arguing. You will be no good to your family if you are injured or killed. Trust me to keep that from happening.”
“But—”
“George. Promise me.”
He sighed deeply and dejectedly. “Alright. Fine. Fine. I promise. But can we go now?”
“Yes. We’ll go now. We’ll run across the yard to the barn as quickly as we can, then wait outside the door for me. We need to assess what we’re dealing with before we just walk in there guns blazing. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“Yeah, okay. I understand. Let’s just go.”
Jacob nodded and let the boy lead the way down the hallway to the front door. He had a bad feeling about this. Knowing that the safety of the whole family was in his hands was bad enough, but with as anxious as George was, Jacob wasn’t sure he could keep the boy reined in.
“Ready?” George said, looking over his shoulder to the other man.
Jacob nodded, gun in hand. They stepped out the front door into the dark night.
Chapter Thirteen
As Jacob exited the ranch house to make his way toward the barn, George pushed past him to begin running.
For the second time that day, Jacob heard the crack of gunfire.
He dropped, crouching on the porch of the ranch house and protecting himself as best he could behind one of the posts. George was already down the steps and several feet away from the house when he too dropped to the ground.
The cry of pain from the young man, however, told Jacob something else was wrong.
A second crack of gunfire tore through the air, but Jacob couldn’t tell where it landed. A third gunshot fired, and the wooden beam above his head splintered.
“Don’t come a step closer!” he heard shouted across the dark property.
“George!” Jacob yelled. “Are you hit?”
The young man groaned. “My arm! I can’t believe it!”
“Stay right there.”
Maloney had stopped yelling, and when Jacob looked up, he noticed the barn door had been closed tightly. Hopefully with the outlaw inside. Jacob needed to act fast. He didn’t like thinking what the man might be doing with the rest of the family all captive in there, especially now that he knew that someone else was on the ranch and coming after him.
Trapped men did desperate things, and Jacob couldn’t handle any other injury to this family on his conscious.
In a crouching run, Jacob hustled to where George lay in the dirt, clasping his right arm.
“How does it feel? Can you make a fist?”
George continued to groan and cry, holding his arm out from his body as though it were a thing separate from him. Jacob guessed this was the first time this boy had ever been shot.
“You�
�ll be alright. Do you hear me? This will be fine, but you can’t come with me any more.”
“No, I have to.” George tried to stand, but Jacob held him firmly down.
“Absolutely not. Your shooting arm is injured and you are going to lose a lot of blood if we don’t get that bandaged up right now.”
“But—”
“Look, George. You promised me that you would listen to what I say. That you would follow my instructions without questioning, remember? You promised. Now is the time to do that.”
“Oh…” He groaned again.
“Let’s get you inside before either one of us gets shot again.”
There was another shot of gunfire, and both men ducked down to the ground.
“Are you hit?” Jacob asked.
George paused a moment before answering, but shook his head.
“I don’t like this,” Jacob said. “He’s getting clumsy. He’s bound to hurt someone else. Let’s get you inside so this can all be over.”
George nodded and wrapped his good arm around Jacob’s shoulders, allowing the other man to help him to his feet. The two returned the ten feet into the dark ranch house and Jacob helped him to a chair in the kitchen.
“Do you know where your mother keeps the supplies?”
“In there,” George nodded with his head. “That cupboard. There’s a box— Yeah, that’s the one,” he said as Jacob pulled out the case.
He had bandaged up plenty of bullet wounds. He had even done it in faster, more desperate situations than this. Jacob made quick work of it, in spite having to pause often to hush George. He was just a boy still, after all, but Jacob knew that they were vulnerable here the longer they stayed in the house. The longer he had to pay attention to George instead of whatever the outlaw was doing.
“Okay,” he said as he finished. “That should keep you set until someone else can take a closer look. Now, you have to stay put, George Thatcher. Promise me you will wait here for me to bring your family to you.”
“But, how can I?” he wailed. “I can’t just sit here.”
“You must. You will be no good to anyone if you get in the way out there. Am I understood?”
“Yes. I know. You’re right. I promise.”
“And when your family all come back in here, you’ll be here to welcome them.”
“I suppose.”
Jacob sighed. That had to be good enough. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time reasoning with a teenage boy. He thought back to the way he had been at that age, the way his brother Jackson had tried to get him to do things. This had to be good enough.
“You keep the rifle,” he said. “Just in case. You never know when a fight may find you.”
George nodded, and sat up a little straighter, his hands ready on the gun.
“The next time you see me, it will be with your family.”
Without any further sentimental good-bye, Jacob trudged through the house back to the front door. This time he didn’t just walk out. He peered through the doorway toward the barn, toward where Maloney was likely still holed up with the three girls and the parents.
Jacob’s luck held—the barn door was still closed tight with a small halo of light shining through the planks. He could hear muffled yelling and thumps coming from within the structure. The outlaw must still be in there. All Jacob had to do was get in there as well and disarm the man. Maloney was trying to keep five people under control with just himself. There would be a weakness there, and Jacob would find it.
His path to the barn door was direct, no obstacles, nothing to watch out for other than Maloney shooting at him again, and that had already happened twice now. He could handle it. Jacob’s plan was just to go for it. Straight in. He was tired of chasing, tired of trying to give each outlaw a chance to come quietly.
Jacob could overpower the outlaw both physically and with firepower. It was time for him to use his leverage and his competence instead of continuing to give the man chance after chance.
He ran as quickly as he could to the barn, pausing outside the door to listen. One of the girls was sobbing. A gagged man’s voice tried to protest, but Jacob couldn’t make out any words.
“If you don’t stop it like I’ve told you, I’ll take that pretty little girl of yours and—”
That was it. That was enough. Jacob threw open the barn door, stepped inside, and trained his weapon on the outlaw.
“Stop, Maloney. You are under arrest.”
The other man spun around and glared at Jacob. He aimed his own weapon back at the bounty hunter, but held his fire. In the brief moment Jacob had to take stock of the situation, he noticed several things.
In the time it had taken Jacob to bandage up George’s arm and return to the barn, Maloney had somehow managed to tie up all three girls again. Jacob’s heart sank. He had hoped the three would be angry and scared enough to avoid being captured again. Hoped all three of them together would be enough to keep Maloney from gaining the upper hand.
The parents were also tied up. All five of the family members sat on the ground against the far wall, tied up and gagged, almost exactly as Jacob had found them not an hour earlier. It was as though he was going backward. No progress had been made. Nothing had changed. He was back where he started.
But as he looked closer, he realized that Sarah, the middle girl, was clutching her leg. A small puddle of blood had gathered in the dirt underneath her, and both of her hands tied in front of her were dark red from the wound. Eliza sat next to her, leaning close to her sister, but with her own hands bound couldn’t do any more to comfort her sister.
Jacob felt a wave of fury course through him.
Seamus Maloney had shot a child. A ten-year-old girl.
Jacob’s anger was almost palpable. This could not stand. This man would not get away with such brutality.
“Seamus Maloney, you are under arrest,” he said again.
Maloney froze where he stood but did not back down.
Chapter Fourteen
Jacob and Maloney stood only a few yards apart inside the barn. Neither man fired, but both had guns pointed at each other while most of the Thatcher family looked on. The barn was lit by a single lamp, dirty globe blocking much of the light. It had been set carelessly on the dirt floor near a bale of hay. One wrong move, one foot accidentally tripping and the lamp could get knocked over and the entire structure sent up in flames.
The arrogance of this man—of every outlaw Jacob had gone after—never ceased to amaze him. They all seemed to believe they were invincible, that somehow they were the special ones. They believed that any mistake they made was someone else’s fault. Every outlaw acted as though the whole world was against him and he was only taking his due.
And it was Jacob’s job to teach them otherwise. They should feel fortunate that he was only in charge of bringing them in to meet the law. If he was in charge of the punishments for the litany of cruelties they would be sorry.
But now. Here at the Thatcher family ranch, Jacob finally had this outlaw in his sights. Now the outlaw was the one who was stuck. Maloney couldn’t shoot and run like he had back in Haven. He couldn’t victimize any more children. He couldn’t murder and steal just for his own gain. The bounty hunter would be bringing him in.
“Your murdering days are over, Maloney,” Jacob said. “I will not stand by while you harm this family any further.”
Maloney laughed, a hard, cold laugh that revealed the deep cynicism in the man. “Who the hell are you?”
“Jacob Payne, bounty hunter.”
“Oh, well well well. You must think you’re something special to follow me all the way out here. It was you I shot back in town this morning, wasn’t it?”
Jacob declined to respond, but continued to keep his gun trained on Maloney.
“You think you can best me?” the outlaw said. “You’re not even walking away from here alive, let alone with me in your custody. This all ends for you here.”
“Do I think I can best a man who
felt he needed to shoot a child to prove his strength?” Jacob said with a scoff. “Yeah. I do.”
Jacob was seething. He had never before taunted an outlaw like this. But, to be fair, he had never before had to deal with a piece of scum like this.
Maloney narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “You don’t know nothing.”
“I know that only a coward would steal money rather than work for it.”
“What did you say?”
“Only a coward would have to be on the run.”
“I’m not a coward,” he said coldly.
“What else would you call a man who murders seven people, including women? What else would you call a man who imprisons an entire family, including young girls?”
“Shut up.”
“You need to overpower the weak and defenseless in order to make yourself feel big.”
“You shut your mouth!”
“Only a coward would shoot at the law while he ran away,” Jacob said bitterly, gesturing to the wound in his abdomen.
“I said shut it!”
“Only a coward would shoot a child.”
“Goddamn it—” Maloney came barreling at Jacob, dropping his gun to his side and shoving the man. “I’m not a coward, you motherf—”
“Prove it,” Jacob said, interrupting him and shoving him back. “Just you and me.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“Maybe. But if you do, at least you’ll know it was a fair fight, and you didn’t hurt the defenseless. It would be the first time in your life you actually earned what you took.”
“A fair fight?” Maloney laughed. “A fair fight from a man who kills for money? No bounty hunter has ever given a fair fight.”
“I’ve never killed anyone that didn’t shoot at me first,” Jacob said quietly. “If you’d like to just turn yourself in, I’m happy to take you back to Tucson alive and you don’t have to risk it.”
“And give you another reason to call me a coward? I don’t think so.”