Her Winding Path_Seeing Ranch series_A Historical Romance

Home > Other > Her Winding Path_Seeing Ranch series_A Historical Romance > Page 20
Her Winding Path_Seeing Ranch series_A Historical Romance Page 20

by Florence Linnington


  At least she would die next to Tom. Their relationship had been a fraught one, but she cherished it nonetheless. She cherished him. And she would be honored to die fighting tooth and nail right alongside him.

  The hoofbeats grew louder, multiple riders taking form in the dark. Ida Rose clutched Tom’s shoulder, her head pounding. She waited for the bang of a gun, waited to feel the bullet piercing her skin. Two horses appeared, then two more.

  One of them Sheriff Mayes.

  “Sheriff!” Ida Rose cried. She could hardly believe her eyes.

  The rest of the Shallow Springs posse rode up, at least twenty men in total. One of them lit a lantern and a pool of light spewed forth. Relief flooded Ida Rose so strongly that her knees shook from the force of it. The posse was here. With all of them, the bandits that had been no more than ten would be no match.

  They were saved. The nightmare was over.

  “Lord, there you all are,” the sheriff exclaimed. “And who is this here?” he jerked his chin at Rocky, who only stayed silent.

  Everyone started talking at once.

  “The stagecoach was attacked,” the driver explained.

  “I found them at a camp in the hills,” Tom answered.

  “It was terrifying!” Mrs. Scotts shrieked.

  Ida Rose said nothing. They were safe. That was all that mattered now. There would be time for talking later, once they were all in town.

  Sheriff Mayes guided his horse closer to Rocky, quietly sizing the man up. “Let me guess. You’re a part of all this.”

  Still, Rocky said nothing.

  “Huh. Well, now, you’re going to take us up to this camp. And no horsing around, either. One wrong move and it’s gonna cost you your life.”

  “I reckon I don’t have that much to lose anyway,” Rocky muttered.

  “McGraw, Tyson, Donaldson.” The sheriff pointed out a small group of men. “Take these folks back to town.”

  “Take the prisoner with,” Tom interrupted. “The camp is easy to find. I can tell you right where it is.”

  “Thank you so much,” Mrs. Scotts gushed as one of the men helped her onto his horse.

  “Here.” Tom took Chestnut’s rein and gestured for Ida Rose to climb into the saddle.

  She hesitated. “You are coming, correct?”

  “I’m going with the sheriff.”

  Ida Rose stepped closer to him, lowering her voice so no one could hear it. “But you do not have to. The… He can show the sheriff where the other bandits are.”

  She could not bring herself to say the name of the man who had kidnapped her, made her fear for her life… the man who had abused Elizabeth so long ago. If his name never fell from her lips for the rest of her life, she would be happy.

  “I need to. He might lead them astray, or tip the bandits off somehow. And for all we know, the bandits might not be at the camp anymore. That dirt bag must have woken up by now. They could be a mile away already.”

  “But...”

  “Ida Rose,” he softly said. “It’s all right.”

  “I am worried.”

  “Don’t be,” he gently assured her. “There are more of us then there are of them. Go back to town with the others.”

  She nodded, the right words—whatever they were—stuck in the base of her throat. He was being so sweet, so tender… Just like when he had touched her cheek, it was a confusing moment.

  Cousins did not act this way. They were not drawn to each other in such a manner. Not even when their lives were on the line.

  Behind Tom, the posse was growing restless. “Ready, Adkins?” Sheriff Mayes called. “We need to move out.”

  Tom kept his focus on Ida Rose. “There is something important I need to tell you.”

  “Wait.”

  “Ida Rose-”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Tell me when you arrive back in town.”

  “Adkins,” the sheriff repeated.

  Tom sighed. “All right. I will see you soon.”

  “Take Chestnut,” she offered. “I will ride with someone else.”

  She watched him climb into the saddle and turn away with most of the posse, then finally accepted help getting onto Mr. McGraw’s horse. Still, they went at a slow pace, as Rocky was still in front of them, hands now bound behind his back.

  Ida Rose turned in the saddle, trying to peer through the darkness, but there was nothing to see. Her guardian angel had swiftly departed.

  What could he have to tell her? Her temperature climbed. The entire day had been one surprise after another—some heart-stopping and some miraculous. At this point, Tom could have told her that all the pigs on his farms had sprouted pigs and were flying and she would have believed him.

  But the tone of his voice when he said he needed to share something with her… It had been light, sweet, hopeful.

  Whatever he had to say, it was good. She knew it. And she had told him to wait to tell her until he arrived back in town, as that was his promise that he would return safely.

  Take care of him, God, she silently prayed from the back of Mr. McGraw’s horse.

  28

  28. Tom

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The man Tom had knocked out was right where he had been left, unconscious as could be. He’d failed at his duty as watchman, and it made rounding up the bandits easy as pie.

  It was almost too easy, Tom mused, as Sheriff Mayes woke the gang with revolvers and shotguns pointed their way. After all those days of terror, all those hours of fruitlessly searching, the bandits were finally right where Shallow Springs wanted them.

  Once more, Tom traversed down the hill, across the creek, through the woods, and into the open field. Chestnut was showing signs of exhaustion. He was faintly aware of an aching in his muscles and temples, but the pain also seemed so far away.

  They had done it. Shallow Springs was safe again.

  But there was still so much more to deal with. Tom had Ida Rose to win back and a bandit leader to confront.

  When McGraw and the other men had been turning to leave, Rocky had stepped into the lantern’s light. What Tom had seen there took his breath away. Now, riding along the road, his friends at his side and a line of captured bandits walking in front of him, he wondered if he had imagined it. Had that really been a thick scar going through Rocky’s eyebrow?

  Or had he just seen what he wanted to? So much had happened in one day and night. Was Tom delirious, simply desperate to believe that not only had he saved Ida Rose and found the bandits, but that he had also captured the man who had hurt his mother?

  The man who had fathered him.

  Tom’s insides writhed. The information on his birth had come at him so fast, he’d had no time to properly process it. At first, he’d only been able to think about the fact that he and Ida Rose were not cousins after all, and that they really could be together. Then, after finding the empty stagecoach, all he had been able to focus on was getting her back.

  Now, with danger passed, his mother’s words from the afternoon came back to him. She’d said that the man who fathered Tom had a scar through his eyebrow… Could it be that same bandit had returned to Wyoming Territory to terrorize the land once more?

  How many lawless pieces of scum possessed such a specific mark on their faces?

  The procession crested the last hill before town and the hotel came into view. Darkness was disappearing, the sun eagerly pushing it out of the way. The entire night had passed in one euphoric or terrifying moment after another. Finally, they were home.

  And Tom had work to do.

  There were a few people in the streets, probably come out because they had heard the bandits were caught. Sheriff Mayes prodded the prisoners along, guiding them down Main Street and to the jail cell attached to the back of his office. With the bandits deposited behind bars with Rocky, much of the posse disbanded, but Tom quickly followed Sheriff Mayes into the office.

  “Sheriff.”

  “Adkins.” Sheriff Mayes shook his hand.
“You did an amazing job, son. Your Pa would be real proud of you.”

  Tom had to look away. “Thank you, sir.”

  His father… The man who had raised him. What would he say if he knew they had not been blood after all?

  Or had he known all along and still chosen to raise Tom as his own?

  The last option seemed like the most likely. Tom’s father had been not only one of the most respected men in Shallow Springs, but one of the kindest as well. He would have never turned his back on a neighbor or friend. Tom knew that meant he would have never done the same to his family.

  “I have a favor to ask, Sheriff...” Tom hesitated, not sure how to explain what he wanted. “The bandits’ leader… I need to talk to him.”

  The sheriff frowned. A heavy silence passed while Tom waited for a barrage of questions.

  But, eventually, Sheriff Mayes just shrugged. “I can bring him out here. Hold on.”

  The sheriff hustled to the jail cell and Tom tried to take a seat in one of the hard, wooden chairs. He couldn’t sit still, though. All he could do was pace around the room, his fist pressed against his mouth. What was he going to say? What if the man denied Tom’s accusations? What if he didn’t?

  The door flew open and the two men, sheriff and prisoner, entered, the latter with handcuffs on. Tom locked eyes with the man who had tried to kill him only hours earlier.

  “Sit,” Sheriff Mayes commanded.

  The bedraggled fellow lowered himself onto a chair.

  “You want me to stay?” Sheriff Mayes asked, cocking an eyebrow at Tom.

  Tom cleared his throat. “No, uh, just give us a few minutes. Thank you.”

  With a silent nod, the sheriff went back out the door.

  “What’s your name?” Tom asked. He had to start speaking right away, or he would lose his nerve or get too angry. His mouth needed to move before his fists got the chance to.

  “What’s it to you?”

  Tom gave him a hard look. “It’s a lot to me. And, honestly, it doesn’t look like you have much of a reason to be lying right now. You’re already under arrest for kidnapping, looting, and attempted murder. Not to mention there’s a witness by the name of Bernard Long who can likely pick your face out and declare it was you who killed his traveling companions. So, you might as well start being honest. Now, what’s your name?”

  The man smirked, but it was only a façade. There was no confidence left in his eyes. He’d lost at the game he’d been playing for years. “Rocky.”

  “Rocky what?”

  “Nothing else. None of your business.”

  Tom crossed his arms. “Have you been to Shallow Springs before? Say, about twenty-five years ago?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Tom took a menacing step toward Rocky, his hands dropping to his sides and curling into fists. He would have liked nothing more than to lay one on the man in front of him, but he was holding himself back. This was a moment when violence would do no good.

  Rocky spat on the floor. “Fine. I think I was. Sure.”

  It was all Tom needed. He could have asked Rocky a dozen other questions. He could have brought his mother in to see Rocky’s face and confirm his identity, but Tom wasn’t going to do any of that. He wasn’t going to put himself or his sweet, fragile mother through any more pain.

  “Anything else?” Rocky demanded. “Or can I get back to my nice and cozy jail cell now?”

  Tom stared back. This was his moment, and he was going to take all the time he needed to decide what to do with it.

  There were a lot of options. He could break down. He could pummel the man. He could let him know just what he had done, how much pain he had surely inflicted upon Tom’s mother. He could open his mouth and say just a few simple words, “I’m your son.”

  Or he could say nothing.

  Truth be told, the man in front of him was no father. Not to Tom, and likely not to anyone, no matter how many young people were walking around with his blood running through their veins. It took more than a physical bond to be a father.

  Parenthood wasn’t born from violence, nor from hatred. It came out of love.

  Tom’s real father had passed on years ago, going to be with the Lord after nurturing and teaching Tom everything he knew. The person sitting in front of Tom right then? He would never be half the man Henry Adkins was.

  “I hope God forgives you for everything you’ve done,” Tom said. “All of it.”

  Rocky’s eyes went wide. Tom knew he was probably going to respond, but he didn’t want to be there to hear any more. Crossing the room, he knocked on the door leading to the jail cell. Sheriff Mayes opened it right away.

  “We’re done here,” Tom announced, looking at the floor.

  Eyes still diverted, Tom left through the front as the sheriff took Rocky back to his cell. He kept it together as he crossed and walked down the street. At the front of the hotel, though, all strength suddenly left his body. He collapsed on the front steps, his head coming to rest in his hands.

  For a long time, he sat like that, so many raw, unformed thoughts bouncing across his mind. His father… His mother… Why had they never told him? Did that even matter?

  Eventually, he lifted his head and blinked against the blinding light. The sun had steadily risen while he sat there, and now, the street was heating up. Tom had stayed up all night long, living through what would likely be the longest twenty-four hours of his life.

  His limbs ached. His heart bled. He needed to sleep, to go to a place where there were no thoughts. But first, he needed to find Ida Rose.

  Opting to avoid the mass of people still staying in the hotel, he cut along the side of the building, meaning to enter through the kitchen. He didn’t have to go into the hotel at all, though. Ida Rose was in the back yard, standing next to the clothesline and staring out at the road, her back turned to him.

  “Ida Rose.”

  She whipped around, her eyes widening. “Tom!”

  They rushed toward each other, meeting halfway across the yard. Little more than a breath apart, they stopped and just looked at each other. There were dark circles under Ida Rose’s eyes. Her hair had been pinned back on top of her head, but in a loose, haphazardly way.

  “Did you…”

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “We got them. They’re in the jail now.”

  Her chest heaved as she took in a long breath and slowly let it out. “Thank goodness.”

  Tom swallowed, not sure how to get to the next part. There was so much he needed to tell her. Where to start?

  “That man, their leader...”

  “Rocky.” Her eyes flashed.

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “Hold on. Did he… did he hurt you at all?” He put his hand on her elbow. If Rocky had put his grimy paws on Ida Rose, Tom would no longer be able to keep his anger in check. He would storm right back to that jail cell and…

  Ida Rose interrupted his thoughts. “No. I know of him. He… Tom, listen. I know this is going to be a lot to take in, but he came to Shallow Springs years ago, to your farm. Before you were born. Elizabeth told me about it.”

  “I know. She told me as well.”

  Ida Rose’s lashes fluttered and she looked confused. “She did? When?”

  “Yesterday. Right before I took off to find you.”

  Her brows knit together. “I am still confused. How did you know the bandits had stopped the stagecoach?”

  “I didn’t.” He noticed that his hand was still on her arm but made no move to withdraw it. “I was coming to find you because of something else Mother told me. Ida Rose, that man, Rocky… He is my father.”

  Ida Rose’s jaw dropped and she covered her mouth in horror.

  “I know,” Tom said through tight teeth.

  “I knew that he had taken advantage of her.” Her palm moved from her hand to press against her chest. “That’s what she told me the day of the party. I wanted to believe she was simply confused. I should have...” She shook her head, her voice becoming t
hick. “I should have just believed her, but I wanted so badly for it to not be true.”

  “Of course. Who wouldn’t?”

  “How did you know that it was him?”

 

‹ Prev