Pemberley Ranch

by Jack Caldwell

  Darcy knew if Whitehead had been in the room at that moment, he would have strangled the bastard with his bare hands.

  “So I stayed and made the best of it. I knew when Denny would visit me—Sally always seemed to know—and so I made sure I had plenty of whiskey close by. It… it helped. Most of the time, I just wanted to die.

  “When he would finish with me, Denny would brag about what he’d done. He killed that Washington family, you know. He said, ‘Yeah, me and my boys killed them like the dogs they were, an’ they won’t be the last ones. There’s plenty o’ folks that need killin’ around here.’”

  Her story done, she turned back to him, a single tear running down her face, her hands turning white as they clutched together. “Now do you understand, Mr. Darcy?”

  Darcy submerged his rage, walked over to Lily, sat her on the bed, slowly pulled her hands apart, and held them in his. She tried to resist, but he was persistent. He knelt before her, his head and hers at the same level.

  “Miss Lily—and you are still a ‘Miss’ to me—I must tell you I don’t hold with the idea that if a woman’s attacked and taken advantage of, that somehow it’s her fault, and she’s damaged goods.” She would not look at him; instead, she stared at the floor. “You’re a victim, Miss Lily, of two evil men, and I swear to you on my mother’s grave these two things.

  “One—your family will take you back with open arms.”

  She looked up at that. “You… you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked down again, more tears running down her face. “And the other promise?”

  In as flat a voice as Darcy could manage, he said, “Whitehead and Denny will pay for what they’ve done.”

  Lily studied Darcy’s cold blue eyes. Apparently, she saw what she was looking for, because she was on her feet the next instant. “I guess we should be going now, Mr. Darcy. I sure can’t stay here anymore.”

  She walked out the door without a backward look. Darcy stood, picked up her carpetbag, and followed her down the stairs.

  Sheriff Lucas escorted Sally Younge over to the jail for her “protection,” while Fitz and the deputy followed with the stacks of papers. What no one saw was the face of Pyke, peering out of the livery stable barn and watching every move.

  Chapter 17

  November 1

  It was past midnight when six riders approached the entrance into the Bennet farm, the full moon lighting the lane between two low hills. Darcy looked to either side as they moved along the lane, spotting proper sites to stage his ambush before turning his thoughts to the task ahead. What he had to tell Mr. Bennet was beyond painful, and he hoped the man would believe him. He refused to allow himself to speculate how Beth would take the news. To hurt her was unthinkable, and he needed all his courage and resolution for the hours ahead.

  He glanced at the young woman riding next to him. Thankfully, Lily’s impassioned outburst seemed to drain the girl of any more words—that and the natural discomfort she must have felt over her impending reunion with her family. Darcy’s words to her held more hope than conviction, and for her sake, he prayed that Thomas Bennet was a Christian man in more than name only.

  The riders finally reached their destination. They passed a series of low structures—chicken coops and hog pens by the smell—and entered a large, open area before the pitch-dark farmhouse. It was a low-slung building, a porch spanning the whole of the front exposure, with two sets of windows framing the center door. The house faced due east, better to catch the morning light in what was sure to be the living area of the place while protecting it from the hot afternoon sun. There were no trees to fall on the house in case of a storm, and a large barn was off to the left. They could see no well or outhouse, and he assumed those were in the rear.

  Darcy waved his hand, and the Pemberley riders formed a semicircle before the house, Darcy and Lily in the middle. Darcy stood up in his saddle and called out.

  “Hello, the house! Bennet! Tom Bennet! It’s Will Darcy! I come in peace! I’ve found something that belongs to you! Hello, Tom Bennet, it’s Will Darcy!”

  Darcy waited for a minute, wondering if he would have to shout again, when he saw a light moving from inside the house. Motioning to his companions to be still, he watched the front door open.

  “Who’s there? I… I see you! Who are you?” A disheveled man, still in his nightclothes, peeked out, brandishing a shotgun.

  Darcy called back, “Are you deaf, Tom Bennet? It’s Will Darcy, come to visit!”

  “Will Darcy?” Bennet stepped out onto the porch. “What the hell are you about, man, coming around here at this time of night?” He started as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and could see the others in the moonlight. He raised his gun to his shoulder, aiming at Darcy. “Why are you all here? I know how to use this! Speak smartly now!”

  “Put those guns away!” Darcy barked at his men, some of whom had drawn their pistols at the threat from Bennet. He dismounted and began to walk towards the irate farmer, holding his hands out wide. “Now just hold on, Bennet! I mean no harm! I’ve got something here that belongs to you, and I figured you’d want it back right away.” Looking closely, Darcy could see faces peeking from behind the window curtains. Knowing them to be the Bennet women, he wondered which one was Beth.

  Bennet lowered his gun, his face a mass of uncertainty. “Something of mine? What’re you talking about?”

  “You’ll see.” Darcy slowly turned and gestured. A moment later, Lily, still in her dancehall outfit, dismounted and walked slowly towards the house.

  “Who… who’s that?” croaked Bennet.

  As gently as he could, Darcy said, “It’s your daughter, Lily, come home.”

  Bennet gasped. “L-Lily!?”

  “Daddy?” Lily managed as the light of the lantern lit her face.

  Bennet made a strange sound in his throat, dropped the shotgun, and ran towards the girl, arms outstretched. “Lily? My God, Lily!”

  Tears running down her face, Lily met him halfway. As they embraced, a screech came from the house, and a white blur ran out the door. Fanny Bennet threw herself upon her husband and daughter, screaming and crying. Darcy tore his eyes from the spectacle to the porch. There, three Bennet girls stood, two in unbelieving confusion, the third staring directly at him. Darcy’s heart jumped at the sight of Beth Bennet, holding a robe closed at her throat, her curly hair half obscuring an unreadable expression on her face. He wondered if she knew that he was doing all this for her and her alone.

  Bennet’s voice broke him out of his ruminations. “I must thank you, Mr. Darcy, for returning my daughter.” His voice grew harder. “I don’t wish to seem ungrateful, but I must ask— how is it that Lily came to be in your company?”

  “Father!” cried Beth, capturing Darcy’s attention again. “You shouldn’t be questioning Mr. Darcy. We owe him a debt we can never repay!” By then, Mrs. Bennet and Lily had reached the porch, and the wayward girl was greeted with great emotion by her sisters.

  Bennet turned to the door. “Quiet, girl, and get yourself inside! All of you! You aren’t decent!”

  “Men, dismount and take your ease,” Darcy called and moved next to the farmer. “Bennet, I’ve much to tell you, and we’ve little time. This isn’t the place for our talk. May we go inside?”

  Darcy stared out into the moonlight outside the window in Bennet’s small study, trying to give the weeping Tom Bennet a smidgeon of privacy. After offering such a disturbing report, Darcy had needed to settle his own emotions. To convince Bennet of the gravity of the threat his family faced, Darcy had no recourse but to tell the man all the horrible indignities suffered by Lily. It was one of the most painful episodes in Darcy’s life.

  Finally, a sniffing Bennet addressed him again from behind his desk. “I… I thank you, sir, from the bottom of my heart, for all that you have done for my family.”

  “I am sincerely sorry for what has happened.”

  “Thank you, Darcy. We… we hoped she was
still alive, but in truth, we began to lose faith. I can’t tell you how we felt!” His red eyes grew angry. “But what she has suffered! Ruined at the hands of a man I trusted! Whose opinion I relied on! Who ate in my house!” A string of curses followed. “I’ll kill him!”

  Darcy turned. “I’ve no right to ask, I know, but what’s to be done with Miss Lily?”

  Bennet caught himself. “I… I don’t know. But she’s my daughter. I won’t abandon her.”

  Darcy nodded in satisfaction. “Bennet, this is your house and your family. But may I say how much I respect you for your words? I’ll stand by you, and you and yours will always be welcomed in my home.” Darcy waited until his words had sunk in. “But we’ve got other matters before us—serious matters.” Darcy leaned on the desk. “I don’t say this lightly. You and your family are in grave danger. Whitehead will not sit idly by—no sir. He’ll come, and he’ll bring Denny and his hired killers with him. You must get your women out of here.”

  “Come here? Why?” Bennet’s confusion gave way to understanding. “Is it because of Lily—of what she knows?”

  Darcy nodded. “Yes, sir, that’s part of the answer. Whitehead has ambitions—of marrying well and political office. His treatment of your daughter will seriously damage those plans, should her story become widely known—if not ruin them altogether. He can’t allow her to run loose in the county; the risk is too great. But there is more to this. All of Whitehead’s plans hinge on one thing, and you, Bennet, are it. You’re the linchpin.”

  “How can that be? Whitehead has advised me on things— that’s so—but I’m not involved in any business with him.”

  “You’ve something he wants.”

  Bennet grew angry. “Lily? That bastard wants my Lily back?”

  “He wants Thompson Crossing.”

  Bennet blinked. “He wants the ford across the Long Branch? Whatever for?”

  A soft voice came from behind the men. “Does it have to do with the railroad?”

  The men whirled about to behold Beth Bennet at the door of the study. Her hair was up, and she was dressed in her usual work clothes of dungarees and an oversized gingham shirt, but to Darcy, she looked like an angel. Before Bennet could object to her presence, Darcy cut in.

  “What do you know about the railroad, Miss Beth?”

  “Something Lily said about George and railroads.”

  “What railroad?” Bennet demanded of Darcy. “Is the railroad coming here?”

  “It is,” Darcy replied grimly. “Do you own a map of the county, sir?”

  The map was found and soon spread over the expanse of Bennet’s desk. The three gathered about it as Darcy traced the course of the Long Branch River. “See how the river cuts the county in twain? It comes down from the north before turning eastward right by your farm, Bennet. It then runs generally southeast to eventually join with the Brazos. Most of the land to the north belongs to the B&R, while all south is Pemberley.

  “Last week, I attended a meeting of potential investors in a proposed railroad from Fort Worth to Abilene, Texas. The company revealed its plans, and it’s something that’ll put the town on the map. The preferred route’s along the Long Branch River, crossing it near here before continuing westward.” He ran his finger slowly across the map. “This is the route, and here’s where they wish to build the bridge—right on your land, Bennet.” His finger rested on Thompson Crossing, a half-mile south of the Bennet farmhouse. “They’ll be paying top dollar for land. Would you be willing to sell the right-of-way?”

  Bennet nodded. “It’s far enough away from the house as not to be a bother, and it would get me out from under the mortgage. If the price is fair, I’ll sell. But what does this have to do with Whitehead?”

  “Do you see something else about the route?” Darcy asked.

  Beth gasped. “It goes across the new settlement!”

  Darcy nodded. “You’re catching on, Beth.”

  Bennet shook his head. “I don’t understand!”

  Darcy straightened to his full height. “After we freed Miss Lily from Whitehead’s place, we discovered his private papers. Apparently, Whitehead has an accomplice inside the railroad company. Letters and telegrams indicate that he’s known about these plans for almost a year. I said Whitehead was ambitious. To achieve everything he wants, he needs money—lots of it. So he plans to get it from the railroad when they start buying up land for the route. He now owns all this,” he swept his hand over the homesteaders’ bottomland.

  “But I thought the bank foreclosed on all those places. Doesn’t all that land belong to Rosings Bank and Mrs. Burroughs?” Bennet asked.

  Darcy grimaced. “She thinks so, but she’s been cheated. The deeds were all transferred to a land company for pennies on the dollar, and Cate believes she owns it. Apparently, she knows about the railroad. She thought she was smart, stealing from her own bank. But she’s wrong—Whitehead actually controls the company. Billy Collins, the bank manager, is in on it. He’s played Cate false. And since Whitehead is the recorder of deeds, he simply made them out in his name. Whitehead owns all the bottomland.”

  Beth looked out of the window into the darkness. “All those homesteaders run off. That poor Washington family.” She turned back in anger. “All because of George’s greed! And Mrs. Burroughs’s, too! I suppose they had something to do with the lynching?”

  Darcy reported what Lily had said.

  Bennet sat in his chair. “So much evil in a small town! But, still, what does this have to do with me?”

  “Thompson Crossing isn’t the only place the railroad has considered crossing the Long Branch. There’s another ford several miles downriver. If they build the bridge there, they would bypass the town and cross Pemberley land several miles south of my house. The company would prefer Thompson Crossing, as they planned to build a station in Rosings. Should they choose to cross at the other place, there wouldn’t be a stop for another twenty miles.” Darcy moved closer to the other man. “Knowing what you do now, would you still sell?”

  Bennet rubbed his face. “I… I don’t rightly know. I hate the idea of putting money in the pocket of the man who has caused so much pain to my family.” He glanced at Darcy. “I suppose you would prefer I didn’t.”

  Darcy shook his head. “You’re wrong, Mr. Bennet. Rosings needs that train stop. It means a stockyard for all the cattlemen. No more drives to Kansas City. New people, new goods, stores, schools—the town needs the railroad, sir.”

  “That’s generous of you, Darcy, as the other route would mean the railroad would be paying you.”

  “The company would still be buying Pemberley land on the other side of Thompson Crossing,” Darcy admitted, “and I’m an investor, so I’ll make money no matter what. This way, we get a station. Everyone benefits.”

  “So, if I agree to sell, where’s the danger?”

  “Whitehead doesn’t have your goodness. All he sees is that you could be a barrier to his plans. How much are you in for to Rosings Bank?”

  Bennet held his head in his hands and told him, a figure that drew a gasp from his daughter. “Father! That’s more than half the value of the farm. How can we repay that?”

  The man moaned. “I’ve been a damn fool, Beth, listening to Whitehead’s silver tongue. He said the improvements would increase the farm’s yields by fivefold. And now, I know it’s all been a lie!” He looked at her. “I did it all for you and your sisters, child. I wanted you all to have a better life.”

  Darcy leaned on the desk, thinking. “I take it Whitehead’s ‘advice’ began around the New Year?”

  “It did. So, I suppose he wants this place?”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps he just wanted to be able to apply pressure on you to make sure you sold when the time came. Or maybe he’s just greedy and wants it all. It doesn’t matter now.” Darcy leaned in. “What I want to know, Bennet, is what are you going to do about it?”

  Bennet was anguished. “What can I do? Whitehead and Rosings Bank hold the
mortgage! They have all the cards!”

  Darcy grinned. “Perhaps not. May I have pen and paper?” He was quickly supplied, and the others watched in speculation as Darcy wrote furiously. A few minutes later, he presented the paper to Mr. Bennet. It didn’t take long for him to cry out in surprise.

  He lowered the paper, a look of wonder on his face. “Are you in earnest?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Beth could stand no more. “Father, what did Will write?” He handed her the paper.

  “Darcy is offering to assume all my debts.”

  Beth’s eyes flew to a composed Darcy. She then turned her attention to the document in her hands. Sure enough, William Darcy proposed to assume all debts held by Thomas Bennet immediately in exchange for a minority ownership portion of Bennet Farm.

  “Rosings Bank won’t be able to foreclose on the farm if I’m a partner,” Will said as she read, “as I can pay the whole off in an instant. Whitehead, Catherine, and Collins will have no financial power over you if you sign that paper, Bennet.”

  “But how can I repay you?” Bennet asked.

  “That we can talk about later. Perhaps we can use the proceeds from the land sale to the railroad, or we can join our herds together. We’ll work out something to our mutual satisfaction.”

  “Join our herds? You’ve a hundred head to my one!”

  “Bennet, I won’t cheat you.”

  Bennet frowned. “I didn’t think you would, but I’m afraid that this is not a fair deal for you! Why should you be so generous to me, a man who hasn’t been very neighborly to you? This is surely a gift, for you know I can never pay it back.”

  Beth knew instantly Darcy’s motivation, and her heart danced as her eyes sought his, but he refused even to glance her way.