Lone Wolf's Lady

by Beverly Barton

  “What are you going to do?” Luke asked, turning her in his arms, so that she faced him.

  “What am I...Oh, God, Luke, I was so sure that Mother or Eddie killed Daddy. I had no idea that Junior had plunged that pitchfork into Daddy. That he was trying to protect me. And—and trying to avenge what Daddy did to Benita.”

  Luke released her and eased out of bed. Deanna looked up into his shadowed face, into his hooded eyes, and felt his withdrawal. Once again she had to choose between her family and Luke. This time it was a choice between a brother who had killed to protect her and the man she loved, the man who had spent five years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.

  “Luke?”

  “No one ever has to know,” he said. “The truth doesn’t have to go any further than this room. Junior’s your brother. You can’t—”

  “I can’t lie anymore.” She slid to the edge of the bed. “Not to myself. I know the truth now and, if you’ll go with me, I’ll face Junior and my mother and tell them that I remember everything.”

  She held out her hand to him, silently pleading for his understanding. He hesitated momentarily, then took her hand in his and lifted her up and into his arms.

  “I’ll go with you,” he said, as he buried his face in the soft fall of honey-brown hair draped over her shoulder.

  Chapter 16

  “I don’t think you and Deanna should go over to the Circle A and confront her family alone,” Kizzie said. “You should call Tyler and have him go with y’all.”

  “I thought I explained why I didn’t want to involve Tyler at this point.” Luke placed his hand on Kizzie’s shoulder. “I don’t know how Deanna’s going to handle this situation. Once she has a chance to talk to Junior, all her sisterly instincts will kick in and she might not be able to go through with turning him in to the law.”

  “That girl loves you, son.” Kizzie patted Luke’s hand where it lay on her shoulder. “She came back to Texas to regain her memory and she’s done that. Now, all she needs to do to fulfill her mission is clear your name. Unless she reveals the true killer’s identity, she can’t do that.”

  “I’m not sure that I want my name cleared bad enough to see Deanna destroyed by having to turn against her own brother.” Luke released his hold on Kizzie’s shoulder, walked out on the back porch and lifted his Stetson from the hat rack. Glancing back, he said, “I don’t want to risk her having another breakdown. She’s suffered enough.”

  “I wish we’d known just what that child went through all those years ago.” Kizzie stood in the open kitchen doorway. “To think that during the five years you spent in Huntsville, she was in a mental hospital.”

  “She’s a strong woman now,” Luke said. “But there’s still a part of her that’s very fragile. And she always loved Junior. It’s going to kill her if she has to—”

  “You’re right.” Kizzie shook her head sadly. “But don’t tell me that you and Deanna will have any kind of future together if she chooses her brother’s best interests over yours.”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Selfishly, I want the truth to come out. The whole truth. And yes, I want Deanna to love me enough to stand against her family. Even stand against the brother she loves.”

  “Won’t y’all sit down,” Phyllis Atchley, model-perfect in her navy slacks and white silk blouse, invited. “I must admit that when you called, Deanna, and asked to meet with the whole family, I was surprised.” Phyllis glanced at Luke, who stood rigidly at Deanna’s side. “And I’m even more surprised to see Luke McClendon with you.”

  “Where’s Eddie and Junior and Benita?” Deanna asked, making no move to sit down in her mother’s elegant living room.

  “They’ll be here shortly,” Phyllis said. “Perhaps you could tell me the meaning of this urgent meeting today? I’m at a total loss for why you would bring Luke into a private family gathering.”

  “Luke is with me because what I have to tell my family involves him, too. After all, he’s the one you and Eddie framed for Daddy’s murder. He’s the one who spent five years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. And he’s the one whose name I intend to clear. Today!”

  “You must be having another breakdown,” Phyllis said softly, fixing her daughter with a pleading look. “You’re delusional if you think anyone framed Luke for Rayburn’s murder.”

  “Cut the act, Mother! I remember. I remember everything.”

  All natural color drained from Phyllis’s face.

  “What do you think you remember, DeDe?” Eddie Nunley asked from where he stood outside in the entrance foyer.

  Deanna’s body jerked, reacting to the ranch foreman’s sudden appearance. Looking over her shoulder, she gasped when she saw the rifle Eddie held.

  Luke glanced back at Eddie, noting the rifle. So, this was going to be an armed confrontation, he thought. He had suspected as much and that’s why he had come prepared. Hidden inside his jacket pocket was the Firestar 9 mm pistol Grant had left at the house several years ago. He wasn’t fool enough to come into enemy territory unarmed.

  “I remember everything about the night Daddy died,” Deanna said. “Every detail. Everything that was said and done. I know who really killed my father.”

  “And just who do you think killed our daddy?” Junior Atchley wheeled into the living room, his wife at his side.

  Deanna looked at her paralyzed brother—her weak, helpless brother, whom she had always loved. Her brother, who had stood up against their father, defending her and avenging Benita.

  “You did, Junior,” she said, her voice strong and sure.

  “No, my Junior did nothing,” Benita cried out, her hands gripping Junior’s shoulders. “Why do you lie about your own brother? A man so kind and good and...” Benita burst into tears.

  Junior leaned his head to one side and rubbed her left hand with his cheek. “Hush up, sugar. Don’t fret. We knew it would come to this sooner or later, once Sister came home to the Circle A.”

  “I say your memories are false,” Phyllis said. “No jury in the world would believe you. A former mental patient. I’m telling you that a smart lawyer could tear you apart on the witness stand and you know it.”

  “No, Mother, I don’t know anything of the sort.” Deanna looked past her mother, her gaze resting on her brother. “But it doesn’t matter one way or the other, because I’m not planning to testify against Junior.”

  Luke’s body tensed. His nerves rioted. Eddie Nunley eased the rifle he held down to his side. Benita wiped the tears from her face. Phyllis took a deep breath and smiled hesitantly.

  “Now, you’ve come to your senses, gal.” Eddie walked into the living room and moved quickly to Phyllis’s side. “See, what’d I tell you. Our DeDe would never betray her family. She stood by us once, she’ll do it again.”

  “Is that true?” Phyllis asked. “If you have no intention of telling the sheriff that Junior killed Rayburn, then why is this family meeting in front of Luke McClendon?”

  Deanna ignored her mother completely as she walked across the room, knelt in front of her brother and took his hands into hers. “I know why you did it.” Her words were a soft, understanding whisper. “I know what Daddy did to Benita. And I realize that Daddy might have killed me—that he surely would have killed my baby—if you hadn’t stopped him.”

  “I hated that sorry son of a bitch,” Junior said in a quiet, controlled voice. “He made my life a living hell. When I found out that he had raped Benita, I wanted to kill him then. But...he was right. I didn’t have the guts to kill him. Not until that night. Not until I saw him brutalizing you. He’d never laid a hand on you until he found out about you and Luke, and I was glad you’d never known his fury the way Mother and I had. But I could tell he meant to beat you until you lost that baby, even if it meant killing you in the process.”

  “I know.” Heavy tears accumulated in Deanna’s eyes. “Thank you for saving my life.” She embraced her brother.

  Junior wrapped his arms around
his sister and hugged her fiercely. “You want me to confess, don’t you, Sister? That’s why you came here today. You want to give me a chance to turn myself in.”

  “I’ll be there with you through it all,” Deanna promised. “I’ll explain what happened, that your actions probably saved my life.”

  “No!” Phyllis yelled, then said in a calmer voice, “No. Your brother will not confess to anything. I won’t allow it! Do you hear me? For pity’s sake, Deanna, look at him. He’s paralyzed!”

  Junior lifted his head and sighed. “Give it up, Mother. It’s past time I did the right thing, don’t you think?”

  “Please, darling, don’t say any more,” Phyllis said. “We’ll make Deanna see reason. She’s your sister. She won’t—she can’t betray you.”

  Eddie lifted his rifle, using it as a threat. “Your mother and I did what we had to do to protect Junior. And to protect you from Luke McClendon.” Eddie glowered at Luke as his hands tightened on the rifle.

  “You shot Luke, didn’t you?” Deanna moved slowly toward Eddie. “You tried to kill him, after slaughtering the cattle and setting fire to the pastureland didn’t run me away from Montrose.” Deanna focused her gaze on her mother. “And you’re the one who gave the orders.”

  “No, Sister, you can’t believe that Mother ordered Eddie to kill Luke!” Junior’s face turned scarlet. His nervous glance jumped back and forth between Eddie and Phyllis. “My God, you did it on your own, didn’t you, Eddie? Wasn’t it enough that we sent him to prison, that we destroyed Deanna’s life?”

  “Eddie, you didn’t...you wouldn’t have,” Phyllis stammered. “Letting Luke go to prison to save Junior and get him away from Deanna was one thing, but to kill him...Please tell me—”

  “You didn’t know what Eddie was doing, did you?” Deanna stared at her mother as if seeing her for the first time.

  Eddie aimed his rifle at Luke. Instinctively Deanna stepped in front of Luke, trying to protect him with her own body.

  “I did what had to be done.” Eddie spoke directly to Phyllis. “All your pleas to Deanna weren’t having any effect on her. I couldn’t let her stay here and remember everything, could I? We framed an innocent man for murder to protect Junior. We couldn’t be sure of Deanna’s loyalty this time. We could all wind up in jail if she tells what really happened.”

  Phyllis turned to Deanna, held out a trembling hand and said, “What are you going to do? Are you going to tell the authorities that your brother killed his own father? If you do, it won’t change anything for Luke or for you. Nothing can undo what’s been done.”

  “She ain’t going to turn Junior in,” Eddie said. “There ain’t no need to try to clear the name of a dead man.”

  Phyllis gasped. Deanna stood her ground in front of Luke, her gaze riveted to Eddie’s face.

  “So, you’re going to kill me?” Luke asked.

  “Yep,” Eddie said. “You didn’t give me no choice. Deanna came home to us. Disturbed and frantic. Luke, you didn’t want us to help her. You tried to make her leave with you against her will. When I tried to stop you, you shot at me, so I had no choice but to shoot you first.”

  “But Luke doesn’t have a gun,” Deanna said.

  “You’ve got a gun, haven’t you, McClendon?” Eddie grinned. “A man like you wouldn’t be stupid enough to come over to the Circle A unarmed.”

  “You can’t get away with murdering Luke,” Deanna said. “Kizzie knows that Luke and I came here together and she knows why.”

  “Kizzie’s knowing about your delusional ramblings doesn’t alter the fact that you’re having another nervous breakdown or that Luke’s influence over you forced you to confront us with your lies.” Eddie told Deanna. “When we—your family—tried to help you, Luke became violent. He pulled a gun on me and... Well, you see how this has to end.”

  “No! No, you’re not going to do this!” Junior wheeled across the room, Benita rushing behind him. “I can’t stand by and see you—”

  “Shut up!” Eddie narrowed his gaze on Junior. “I’m trying to protect you. Protect this family. And once and for all, we’ll free ourselves from the curse of Luke McClendon.”

  Luke moved Deanna aside. And when she tried to shield him again, he shoved her toward Junior. In that instant—when all eyes were on Deanna spinning away from Luke—Luke drew the Firestar from his jacket and rushed Eddie Nunley. Momentarily caught off guard, Eddie reacted a split-second too slowly and the rifle shot he got off whizzed past Luke and embedded the bullet in the wall.

  Deanna flopped down, her backside hitting the floor. When she realized what was happening, she jumped to her feet in time to see Luke barrel into Eddie, knocking the man’s rifle out of his hand. But during the ensuing struggle, Luke also lost his gun. The pistol hit the floor and slid across the polished hardwood.

  Phyllis dashed toward the gun. Deanna dove onto the floor, reaching for the 9 mm. Mother and daughter collided. Phyllis snatched the gun up into her hand.

  “Stop! Do you hear me, Eddie! Stop this insanity!” Phyllis held the gun in both hands and aimed it at the two struggling men.”

  Luke landed one final blow to Eddie Nunley’s jaw, knocking him to the floor. Eddie stared up at Phyllis, his bloody mouth curving into a smile.

  “Shoot him!” Eddie ordered. “Kill the son of a bitch!”

  “No.” Phyllis dropped the 9 mm to the floor, then crumpled onto her knees. “No more of this. Do you hear me?”

  Eddie dove forward, his arm extended, as he reached for the weapon. Luke jumped him just as he grasped the gun. The two men rose to their feet in a struggle—Eddie trying to aim the gun barrel into Luke’s belly and Luke trying to take the weapon away from his opponent.

  The sound of a gun firing—once, then once again—echoed in Deanna’s ears. Spinning around, she stared helplessly as Luke fell backwards. Eddie fell forward, landing on top of him.

  “Luke!” Deanna screamed.

  Luke shoved Eddie Nunley’s body off his. “I—I’m all right.”

  Kneeling over Eddie’s body, Phyllis felt for a pulse. “He’s still alive. We must call for an ambulance.”

  While Benita dialed 911, a car screeched to a halt in front of the Atchley home. Within seconds, the front door flew open and Tyler McClendon stood in the foyer.

  “What the hell happened here?” he asked. “Dammit, Deanna, I told you to wait until I got here before you and Luke confronted your family.”

  “What?” Luke asked, puzzled by his stepbrother’s statement.

  “Deanna called me this morning and told me that she remembered everything and that she wanted me to meet you and her here at the Circle A. She seemed certain that her brother would have something to tell me.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” Luke said.

  Deanna stood over her mother, who had sat down on the floor and lifted Eddie’s head onto her lap. She stroked his cheek and brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.

  Phyllis moaned. “Deanna.”

  “Yes, Mother?”

  “I’m so very, very sorry,” Phyllis said. “I did what I thought was right for both you and Junior. I never meant—”

  “Oh, Mother!” Tears poured down Deanna’s cheeks.

  Luke hovered behind Deanna, wanting desperately to pull her away and enfold her in his arms.

  Junior Atchley wheeled over to Tyler. “You’ll be arresting Eddie if he lives. He’s the one who slaughtered Montrose cattle, set fire to Montrose range and tried to kill Luke.”

  “Then he’s still alive?” Tyler asked.

  “Just barely,” Deanna said.

  “Poor Eddie,” Junior said. “He thought he was protecting Mother and me.” Junior looked up at Deanna. “I’m sorry, Sister. God, I’m so very sorry. But I’m going to make it right, if I can. I promise you that.”

  Benita fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around her husband.

  Eddie Nunley died on the way to the hospital. Phyllis Atchley buried him in the family cemetery on the Cir
cle A.

  Two weeks later, after he had confessed to killing his father, Junior Atchley was sentenced to prison. But due to the circumstances, Junior’s physical condition, and the plea for mercy by Deanna and Luke, the judge gave Junior the minimum sentence.

  Phyllis Atchley was sentenced to probation and two years of community service, which seemed appropriate punishment for a woman whose social standing had once meant everything to her.

  Luke helped Deanna pack, but when she headed for her car, he kept walking—straight toward the main house.

  “Where are you taking my luggage?” she asked.

  “Up to the house,” he said, not slowing his gait. “To my room. Where else would I take my future wife’s luggage?”

  “What?” She ran after him, catching him just as he stepped onto the back porch. “What did you say?”

  He dropped the luggage, turned and smiled. “I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to go back to Jackson. I want you to stay here on Montrose.” He knelt down on one knee, took her hand in his and said, “Deanna, will you marry me?”

  Not once in the weeks following the deadly confrontation at the Circle A had Luke mentioned the future. He had stood by her, protecting her, supporting her and caring for her. He had even encouraged her to accept the plea from Phyllis for a second chance at being a real family. But she hadn’t dared hope that when everything was settled Luke would ask her to marry him.

  He hadn’t told her that he loved her.

  “Luke, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say, yes.”

  “But...are you sure?”

  “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. We’ve lost fifteen years that we should have spent together,” he told her. “Let’s not waste the rest of our lives.”