by James, Terry
Jake held up his bandaged hand, excusing himself from a hearty handshake. ‘It’s sheriff now. Can we have our key?’
‘Er … I … erm …’ The clerk burst into nervous laughter. ‘Of course, what am I thinking. Er … actually, I moved you to a nicer room. Also, I heard you were on your way over so I had some food sent up and a bath.’
‘That’s kind of you,’ Ros said, warily.
‘It’s the least any of us can do after what you two did.’
‘What we did?’ Ros asked, still uneasy with the scene that had left Emmett, Radley and Carlson dead, Jake nursing a busted hand and her brother bruised and battered.
‘You gave us our town back.’ He handed them a key on a brass ring, then backed away. ‘Enjoy your evening, and if there’s anything you need, just let me know.’
Around the lobby, doors that had creaked open now swung wide and faces appeared, young and old, men and women. Ros and Jake started up the stairs, baffled by the attention, especially when a ripple of applause followed them. When they reached the first and second floors, the reception was the same. By the time they reached their room, Ros was struggling to control a fit of laughter.
Jake opened the door, releasing the aroma of steak and gravy as it rushed to meet them like another round of applause. Pushing her way inside, Ros stood in the middle of the room, turning on her heel as she surveyed her grand surroundings. By the window, a small table laden with covered trays had been set with two places and finished with a bottle of wine and two glasses. A full tub stood at the foot of the bed, the faint scent of lavender competing with the smell of the food.
‘Can you believe this?’ Ros asked, throwing herself across the high bed covered with an elaborately detailed quilt. ‘It’s as though we did something … heroic.’
Jake seemed less impressed, his answer barely more than a casual observation. ‘Swain hurt a lot of people. Some lost their livelihood to him, others lost their dignity, some even lost loved ones.’
Ros stopped laughing, the simple truth acting like a slap in the face. ‘I know how that feels. I’d love to have seen my brother Bill again, and my pa.’
Jake slowly untied and unbuckled his gun, laying it on the table next to the bed. ‘Uh-huh.’
Ros lay on her side and propped herself up on one elbow, watching as he struggled to kick off his boots. He’d been subdued since the smoke cleared. They’d barely got a word out of him when they went back to Tom’s house. The only spark he’d shown had been when Jimmy asked for him, the first coherent word the boy had spoken since Cade had tried to kill Ros. However, spending time alone with the boy seemed to have plunged Jake into a deeper silence.
Now, kicking off his boots, he stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, effectively shutting her out. He started to wedge his hands behind his head but reconsidered and rested his injured right hand across his chest.
Ros adjusted her position, rolling onto her stomach, leaning on her elbows, hands forming a rest under her chin as she watched him. Below a frown, dark shadows ringed his eyes and stubble darkened his jaw. It seemed to underline the mood that had come over him since the showdown with Radley.
‘Jake.’
He didn’t move.
‘Are you all right?’
He took a breath but didn’t say anything.
‘Want something to eat?’
He shook his head, his mouth tightening into a line.
‘Want to tell me what’s wrong?’
Silence.
‘Please, Jake. Is it something I’ve done? Something I’ve said?’ Cold dread made her work harder. ‘Have you changed your mind about us?’
He opened his eyes and smiled at her. It was a strange smile that seemed to dip the corners of his mouth instead of raising them. A sad smile. ‘No. I’m just tired, that’s all.’
She lay down, resting her cheek on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. Beneath her palm his muscles felt tense as she caressed his stomach. Even his breathing sounded loud in the quiet of the large room. Suddenly, his hand came around her shoulders, hugging her tighter, as though he were worried she might leave if he didn’t hold her.
‘Jake, I think there is something bothering you. Can’t you tell me what it is?’
He pushed up into a sitting position, his back rigid against the wrought iron bedstead. ‘What I did today bothers me.’
Ros waited, but that appeared to be all he had to say. ‘You rid the town of a killer.’
‘Did I?’
‘Of course you did. Radley’s dead. Emmett’s dead. Carlson, if you want to include him. Who else was there?’
‘What about Jay Langerud?’
Suspicion tickled her neck. She’d experienced guilt often enough to know the signs. She tried to sound genuinely bemused. ‘What about him?’
‘He was fast today. I was fast. I thought I put him behind me, but when the chips were down, he was as easy to wear as a handmade suit.’
‘What are you saying, that you like being a gunfighter?’
‘No. I never liked it, wondering whether I was faster than the next man. But what if that’s the man I really am?’ He looked her in the eye, the glint of mischief she was accustomed to seeing, strangely absent. ‘You’ve been through enough, Ros, you and your family. I can’t ask you to marry a killer.’
She came to her knees. ‘You’re not a killer. You fought because you had to. What else could you have done except stand there and let Radley shoot holes through you? This is not you. You embrace life. I’m the one who’s afraid of it, afraid of the past, afraid of the future. What’s happened?’
His eyes narrowed and it was a minute before he answered her. ‘Jimmy says he wants to be just like me. Bang, bang, bang. He wants me to teach him the quick draw.’
Ros breathed a sigh of relief. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘I started out like Jimmy. The first man I ever killed was the man who killed my pa.’
‘And you became a marshal. Now you’re a sheriff. What’s wrong with that?’
‘I told you, I was lucky. I could just as easily have gone on the way I was – killing.’
She didn’t believe it, despite what she’d seen out in the street, but the way Jake was acting it would take a miracle to change his mind. And maybe she had one…
‘If the boy’s worrying you that much, why don’t you share some of your luck with him?’
‘Share my luck?’ he asked, confusion finally rousing him from his daze-like despondency.
‘You talked about wanting a family, having what Matt and Ava have. Why not you, me and Jimmy?’
He stared at her, the mood visibly lifting from him like a veil.
‘I’m serious, Jake. You can teach him to use a gun, for the right reasons.’
His teeth flashed in the lamplight. ‘You’re going to make a great wife.’
By the Same Author
Ghosts of Bluewater Creek
Echoes of a Dead Man
Copyright
© Terry James
First published in Great Britain 2009
This edition 2014
ISBN 978 0 7198 1386 3 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1387 0 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1388 7 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7090 8740 3 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Terry James to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
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