Taking a deep breath as he experienced the agony all over again, he remembered the hurt and how weak he had felt being unable to stop them. Helpless and angry. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t prevent what he felt he’d set in motion.
“After Jenny and I buried—”
“Jenny.” Terrifying realization washed over Anna. “And Jenny was pregnant with your—”
“My nephew, and his name is—”
“Ethan Robert Kimble,” she said in a broken whisper.
“How did you know?”
God how she didn’t want to tell him because she felt so small, but she had no choice. She’d told him too many half-truths already. “I saw their picture when I got the deck of cards out of your saddlebags.”
Ethan clenched his jaw and his intense blue eyes narrowed. His stare drilled into her.
“Ethan, I wasn’t snooping. Bones jumped up and knocked the box out of my hand.”
“So that’s where you got the idea that I had a child?”
“Yes. And I’m so sorry.” Her heart broke for all the things she hadn’t been totally honest about with him, thinking he’d jump to conclusions, when in fact she was the one who was equally to blame for doing the same.
“He has dimples just like you,” she whispered.
“Jenny calls him Bobby, after his father.”
Tears flowed down her face.
Ethan looked deep into her eyes and brushed away a tear. In one forward motion, he took her into his arms. His mouth moved over hers, devouring its softness. His hands slipped up her arms, bringing her even closer.
Anna relaxed, sinking into his cushioning embrace.
They momentarily parted a few inches, and then his lips seared a path down her neck, her shoulders before they recaptured hers, more demanding this time.
The touch of his lips was a delicious sensation, and she gave herself to him, having a burning desire, an aching need, for his kiss. He caressed her mouth with his, his lips more persuasive than she cared to admit, and she found herself swallowed up in his slow, drugging caresses.
They shared a dreamy intimacy.
Like a lariat around his neck, rationale jerked Ethan out of the moment and back to reality. In his arms he held the one woman he’d loved since the first day he’d laid eyes on her.
“Ethan, did you mean it when you said you loved me?”
He nudged the hollow of her neck with his nose, ran his lips down its length, but not kissing, only nuzzling. He lifted his head. “With all my heart and soul.”
“And I love you too.” She let her eyes droop shut, then opened them again.
As hard as it was on Ethan, he forced himself to say, “Sleep while you can. We’ve got a lot of years left.” He kissed her on the temple and held her even closer. “Inside a cave with you being injured feels too much like taking advantage, so when it’s the right time, we’ll both know it.”
A shadow slowly backed away from the mouth of the cavern.
Chapter 15
Uneasiness mocked Ethan as he continued to watch the entrance to the cave. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone lurked outside, which only heightened his awareness. He roamed the cave like a caged animal . . . watching, listening, and wondering.
Except for the occasional howl of a lonely coyote, Ethan heard nothing but Anna’s soft breathing and his own footsteps.
The rain moved out, leaving a ceiling of sky flooded with a million stars and a moon that watched precariously over the countryside.
Even with the tranquility of the night, every now and again Ethan spied shadows crossing the entrance to the cave. More than once he raised his shotgun and aimed it into the darkness.
At first dawn, Ethan walked outside and scanned the outskirts of the ledge. In the east, a new sun iced the edge of the canyon’s rim in red and blue. After taking care of nature’s call, he walked back into the cavern. Low, soft light filtered beneath the rock overhang into the darkened cavern.
Anna stirred and he was instantly by her side. “Are you okay?”
“It’s nothing.” She twisted a little bit, holding her shoulder with her free hand. “I’ve been hurt more having to carry my wanted poster over my head for so long.” She managed a feeble chuckle.
“Do you think you can make it back down to the horses, Savannah?” Ethan asked.
“I’m no quitter.” She took a deep breath. “I made it up and I’ll make it down.”
He kept his gaze on the opening as they talked, still a little gun-shy from watching for movement for hours on end. It wasn’t the first time he’d stood watch all night long, but it was the first time he’d watched over someone he truly cared about. Hell’s bells . . . loved.
“When you feel like it, we can start back.” He reached down to help her up but halted when he heard a noise.
He recognized footsteps a split second before the cave darkened dramatically, and not from a wayward cloud dancing in front of the sun.
Someone stood at the entrance of the cave.
Defensively, Ethan dropped to his knees and gathered Anna to him. Taking her with him, he rolled to the far side of the cavern, within reach of his shotgun. He put his hand over her mouth and whispered, “Don’t move,” as he drew his Colt.
Anna nodded her head, and he could see by the fear in her eyes that she recognized the danger. He rolled off of her and came to his feet in lightning speed, aiming at the figure at the entrance, whom he could now make out to be a man with a gun aimed back at him.
“Hold it where you are right now or I’ll shoot,” Ethan warned, prepared to fire.
“Do you think I can’t see you as good as you can see me?” Bradford Jackson’s helpless, almost pitiful words echoed off the walls of the cave. “I’ve waited a long time to even up the score. So when Savannah’s father fired me because he thought you’d come back to Galveston to take the job he’d offered you years before, I had the perfect opportunity.”
“And to even up the score with her father by masterminding a bank heist,” Ethan egged him on.
“So, you just had to come to Savannah’s rescue and be Alexander Parker’s lackey.”
Uncontrolled rage coursed through every bone in Ethan’s body, but before he could respond, a second figure appeared out of the shadows with a gun drawn and pointed somewhere between Bradford’s back and Ethan’s chest.
“Bad Jack. Bad Jack,” Dakota said. “Bad Jack.”
Ethan’s heart missed a beat, and his emotions wobbled between dread that he was about to commence his last gunfight and confidence that he had backup . . . but he wasn’t sure which gut feeling to trust.
“Okay, Bradford, you’ve got me. But if you get off a shot, Dakota will have you down before the bullet hits me,” Ethan warned.
“Huh,” Bradford guffawed. “You think Buckley is going to kill me after everything I did for him?” He shot over his shoulder, “Right, Dakota?”
His only response, the loud, throaty check-check-check of a blue jay, as he glided overhead.
The silence didn’t deter Bradford. “I’ve been sitting out here all night long listening to you cooing over one another. Talk about how much in love you all are, but I don’t think Savannah was feeling that much love for you when she cornered me and kissed me, just to get even with you for not taking the job at her father’s bank.” His thin lips spread into a satanic smile, and he let out a deep sordid chuckle.
The sun had pulled itself full into the sky, making it easier for Ethan to see the man with the black patch over one eye and Arlis Buckley one step behind him.
“I never did that and you know it,” Anna stormed.
Before Ethan knew what happened, she stepped to his side, so close that he could feel her breathing. “Bradford Jackson, you’re a nasty, despicable person who took more than the money from my father.”
Ethan wanted to look at her but didn’t have to. He heard the defiance in her voice. He kept his eyes leveled at the two guns facing him. Suddenly he felt her hand on the small of his back when sh
e nudged him a little as she slipped the knife she always carried in her underskirt into his gun belt.
Anna continued, “You took his pride. His dignity—”
“And his daughter, don’t forget,” Bradford snorted.
“Bad Jack,” Dakota repeated twice again, never changing the blank expression from his face, but Ethan saw something in his eyes, a recognition, as he added, “Uncle Ethan.”
“Dakota, put my shotgun down.” Anna came around Ethan in such a hurry that he couldn’t catch her. “Bradford, you’ll have to shoot me if you want to get Ethan, but if you don’t let me handle Dakota he’ll kill you.” She stood tall and proud. A true Texas woman plannin’ on defending those she loved. “It’s your choice.”
With Anna a good seven inches shorter, Ethan still had a clear shot at Bradford, but he wouldn’t take a chance on return fire. “I’ll make it easier on you, Jackson. Let her talk to Dakota, and I’ll holster my gun.”
Ethan could tell by the look in Bradford’s eyes as he cut them from the lawman back to Anna that he wasn’t sure which the better choice was, but finally he said, “Slide your gun this way.”
Laying his Colt on the ground, Ethan put his hands behind him, fingering what he thought was a knife . . . but instead he distinctly felt a pistol. He wanted to laugh and would have if things hadn’t been so serious. He thought all along that Anna still carried a knife in her underskirt, but apparently she’d traded it in for a small-caliber Derringer. And a pearl-handled one to boot. Pretty much a woman’s gun, but with his skills and the short distance between them it’d be deadly in his hand. This was one time he was glad she hadn’t been totally honest with him. He felt a whole bunch better drawing a pistol on Bradford than a knife.
Anna knelt down, so she’d be eye to eye with Dakota, and as Ethan had seen her do before, she reached out to him. Then she said, “Dakota, go to your safe place until it is suppertime.”
Dakota turned around and said, “No more bad Jack,” then repeated, “Ruts,” three times before heading back down the path.
“No more bad Jack,” Anna repeated softly and prayed he’d remember to follow the path to the ruts in the trail that would lead him to Amarillo just in case she and Ethan weren’t able to get out of this mess she’d gotten them into.
Frustration and anger took control and pulled Anna to her feet. She took a step back, lifted her skirt, and with a kick that would have made a bucking horse proud waylaid Bradford with the toe of her boot somewhere between his brains and his most prized possession, causing him to drop his gun and yelp like the injured weasel he was. He fell to his knees, bellowing words that even Ethan couldn’t understand.
Ethan had the Derringer at Bradford’s head so fast that any of the gunfighters at the O.K. Corral would have been impressed.
“The next time you decide to tell a lie, you’d better make sure who you’re dealing with.” Just for good measure, Anna gave him a second kick in the cojones, sending him into another fit of anguish. “That’s for hobbling Troubadour.”
“Savannah, get those ropes out of the saddlebags,” Ethan ordered.
Within seconds, Ethan had Bradford Jackson III hobbled and tied to a tree. “Sit tight you sonofabitch. The law ought to find you in a day or two.” Then he stood and enjoyed saying, “If the coyotes don’t get you first.”
Ethan picked up his Colt and returned it to his gun belt, then took Anna by the hand. Putting the Derringer in her palm, he said, “I don’t know what in the hell this is, but the next time you want me to shoot someone give me something more threatening than a knitting needle.” His gentle laugh rippled the breeze.
Watching the lawman, she joined him in laughter. For the first time in as long as she could remember, a release valve opened and she could laugh with life. Anna picked up her Winchester shotgun from where Dakota had dropped it. “I’m glad he found this.”
Bones shot up the path from nowhere and bared his teeth at Bradford, who was still babbling in agony. A slow growl came from the mutt’s throat as he nipped at the captive’s pants leg before lifting his leg and taking care of nature’s call on the tree trunk Bradford was tied to.
Taking another look at the man, apparently Bones thought his time would be wasted on him, so he chased ahead of Ethan and Anna as they descended into the bowels of Palo Duro Canyon.
“And you accused me of going to bed mad and waking up madder.” Ethan laughed in a deep, jovial way, enjoying the camaraderie with Anna.
Ethan whistled, then called, “Hey, mutt.”
Bones stopped in his tracks and looked back as though he recognized his new name.
It wasn’t long until they caught up with Dakota on the path, and they walked another few miles in silence.
As the threesome neared the dugout, Dakota turned to Ethan and said, “No more bad jack, Uncle Ethan.”
Ethan dropped to his knees, where Dakota could see him eye to eye, and with tenderness the lawman hadn’t felt in many years, he said, “No more bad jack, son.”
The sun smiled down on the newly forged family.
Epilogue
News Reports All Around Texas
Amarillo Champion, January 23, 1887
Quinten Corbitt, publisher of the Amarillo Champion, says he’ll start a weekly newspaper in Kasota Springs, Texas, and operate it as the Kasota Springs Bugler. Mr. Corbitt also predicts that this winter will be the worst in the history of Kasota Springs.
Dodge City Times, July 28, 1889
The Panhandle has been suffering for the want of rain, as several weeks have elapsed since rain has fallen; and if we don’t soon get rain we will have a long dry spell.
Amarillo Champion, August 11, 1889
The Panhandle has been blessed with a soaking rain, which was much needed.
Amarillo Champion, August 14, 1889
A man with a patch on one eye was found hobbled and tied to a cedar tree in Palo Duro Canyon on Saturday. He doesn’t know who he is or where he came from or how he got tied to the tree. Suffering from severe intestinal problems, he requested to borrow money to take a train to Fort Worth. Wishes granted.
The Galveston Daily News, October 31, 1889
The case of State vs. Savannah Kathleen Parker Kimble, daughter of prominent Galveston citizen Alexander Parker, who didn’t much want to see his only girl charged for the bank robbery, continued the entire day in the justice court. Mrs. Kimble, who was represented by her duly married husband, Ethan Robert Kimble, Esquire, was discharged, but the other bank robbers were bound over till the next term of the district court. Their bond was fixed at $500 each prisoner and paid by their lawyer, Bradford Jackson Jr., and they were taken to the Kaufman jail this afternoon.
The Galveston Daily News, November 9, 1889
Five miles north of Galveston, Gaylord Graves, a big Cajun with a bad temper, and Shorty Duncan, a short man prone to wearing long black dusters, became engaged in a difficulty, both being under the influence of whiskey. Graves struck Duncan just above the temple with a blacksmith’s hammer, smashing his skull. There was a strong suspicion of foul play.
Graves made his escape, with an officer in pursuit, going in the direction of Louisiana, his former home. Graves, who was taken back to jail on Thursday night last on suspicion of murder was denied bond before the district judge of that county and will be in jail for a while.
The Galveston Daily News, November 20, 1889
Lawyer Bradford Jackson Jr. died very suddenly last night. He had been feeling poorly and complaining a lot for several days but was feeling better yesterday. He ate a hearty supper last night of pork and apple cobbler, retired to his room, and was found dead this morning. This brought about a closing of his law office.
The Galveston Daily News, January 11, 1890
Mrs. Abigail Parker donated a Patek Phillipe pocket watch, valued at a lot of money, to the children’s home. The watch was a birthday present given to her by a no-good-scoundrel-of-an-employee of her husband, prominent banker Alexander Parker, owner of G
alveston Merchant’s Bank, the same bank that was robbed some time back.
Attending the presentation was her son, Charles Parker, along with her only daughter, Savannah Kimble née Parker. In attendance was Savannah’s husband, Ethan Kimble, who had procured a license to marry shortly before Miss Parker was bound over for trial for the robbery of her father’s bank. Looking on was their adopted son, Dakota Robert Kimble, a handsome, clean-shaven youth a bit older than her brother.
The whole town is happy for the new family.
MOST WANTED
DEWANNA PACE
Like John Wayne once said,
“Courage is being scared to death—
but saddling up anyway.”
To Dionne and James:
Life will throw you for loops sometimes.
But if you always remember who you love
and what you want most out of it,
you’ll always find the courage to
saddle back up and find the best road.
Mama loves you both.
Chapter 1
Longhorn City, Texas
West of Fort Worth, 1888
Shadow Rivers leaned back against the cell wall and stretched his long legs out over the wooden cot, wishing he had a smoke to ease him into a better rest for the night. Spending what little money he had for tobacco was a luxury he hadn’t chanced, and asking the sheriff for a second favor in one night wasn’t his way.
Sheriff Pickens, the seasoned lawman who ruled this neck of the Texas prairie with a fair hand and a mean pair of Colts, stood and grabbed his holster, strapping on his guns. His square jaw looked set in granite and his eyes were narrowed by years of watching for trouble coming. The law dog appeared rougher than he did ten years ago when Shadow first met him. His nose had been broken more than once and half an eyebrow was missing. Many a man had tested Rafe Pickens’s balding gray hair and expanding flesh to see if the lawman was past his prime, and all of them had come up short on judgment.
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