by DiAnn Mills
A small dilapidated barn stood about forty feet from the house, a good place to hide. He crouched low and hurried across the yard separating him from the barn. He waited outside and listened.
Wirt pounded on the front door of the house. “Miss Hanson, this is US Marshal Wirt Zimmerman. Ma’am, I’d like to speak to you, if you don’t mind.” The man’s booming voice could wake the dead. “Ma’am, if you’re here, I’d like to talk to you. The marshal told me you live alone, and I assure you I only want to ask a few questions about your brother Ralph.”
John glanced about. A fence needed mending. The house and barn roofs were in sad repair. A window on the side of the barn caught his attention, but he’d stay put until he heard from Wirt.
“Ma’am,” Wirt said. “I’m asking you one last time to open the door. If not, I’m coming inside.”
A few moments later, Wirt appeared from around the house. “The door’s locked.” He turned the knob to the backdoor, and it creaked open. He nodded for John to join him.
John clenched the handle of the weapon in his hand. Lingering smells of bacon and eggs from breakfast clung to the air. Wirt motioned for John to cover him before he stepped inside. In the kitchen, a small table covered with a blue and yellow tablecloth sat under a yellow curtained window. The curtains were drawn, decreasing the men’s view in the small shadowed house. Gun positioned, John scanned every corner while Wirt moved on to a bedroom. A single bed and trunk filled the area, definitely a woman’s quarters with a quilt and what looked like embroidered pillowcases—hard for John to discern in the dark shadows.
“Miss Hanson. Don’t be afraid. We only want to talk to you.” Wirt kneeled and looked under the bed. No one hid from them there.
The men made their way into the parlor with its sparse furnishings. The only sound came from a mantle clock above the fireplace.
“Odd she’d leave the backdoor unlocked,” John said. “Let’s check the barn. I didn’t hear anything when I was out there, but a window facing the back side of the house would give somebody a clear shot.”
Wirt shrugged. “Then we’ll go out the front and circle around.”
A short while later, they slipped up to the barn door. This time John lifted the latch while Wirt covered him. The latch lifted and dropped with a dull thud. Sunlight lit a golden path down the middle of the neatly kept barn. A cow was tied on the left side and a swaybacked mare stood beside her. Both animals had fresh hay. A person could hide here but not for long.
Wirt pointed to the hayloft. John started up the ladder, tucking his boot into each wrung without a sound.
“We might as well give up and head on back to Rocky Falls,” Wirt said. “This place is deserted, and we’ve got plenty of work to do. What’s wrong with Miss Hanson that she won’t answer the door to a couple of US Marshals?”
By then John had climbed to the loft. The wound to his shoulder was still sore enough to breathe caution into every step. Wirt stood below with his revolver poised, but he didn’t stand beside John. He peered over the top. The loft had a small pile of hay in the far corner. No one cowered in the corners. A rustle in the pile caught John’s attention. He crept over the top of the loft and made his way to the hay.
“I’ve got my gun aimed at you,” John said. “Come on out of there, or I’m opening fire.”
The rustling increased, and a gray-haired woman crawled out of the hay with a rifle in her hand. “Please, mister, don’t shoot me. I don’t know where Ralph is.”
John took her rifle, then helped her to her feet. “If you have nothing to tell me, why are you hiding?”
Her eyes widened. “Because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Are you one of them?” Her lips quivered.
“You heard the US Marshal. We’re here on law business.”
Her eyes darted back and forth across the loft like a frightened animal.
“Ma’am, let’s climb down the ladder so we can talk. We’re not here to hurt you but to find out information on Ralph’s whereabouts.” He took her hand and led her to the ladder.
The woman didn’t look over ninety pounds. She picked at the pieces of hay sticking to her faded brown dress. With a sigh she followed John to the ladder. Once she was near the barn floor, Wirt helped her the rest of the way.
“Miss Hanson, I’m US Marshal Wirt Zimmerman, and the young man climbing down the ladder is the deputy from Rocky Falls. Your brother is missing, and we have reasons to believe he’s a part of a cattle rustlin’ gang.”
Her eyes pooled. “I haven’t seen him.”
“When did you see him last?”
She moistened her lips.
“Miss Hanson.” Wirt’s voice softened. “Is Ralph running from the law or someone else? Or both?”
John thought how much Wirt’s questioning sounded like the unanswered questions he’d posed to Ember.
“Ralph is my only brother.”
“Yes ma’am. Has he been here?”
She hesitated and looked from Wirt to John and back again. “I know my brother has broken the law, but I don’t know what he’s done. He said if I told anyone he’d been here, we’d both be killed.”
The similarities between Miss Hanson’s and Ember’s circumstances reinforced John’s thoughts about the thieves. The connections … the man or men who used manipulation and fear to accomplish what was needed. Granted, most lawbreakers used clever tactics to outsmart the law. But what Ember refused to state was linked to fear, not only for herself but for the entire Timmons family. “Who would kill you?” John said.
“I don’t know who they are. Ralph said he had a job to do for them; then he would have enough money to leave the territory. But if he made a mistake or if I told, those men would kill us.” Her voice cracked, and she sucked in a sob.
In his gut, John knew she spoke the truth. He’d seen the same terror in Ember’s eyes. “Miss Hanson, I believe you.”
“I’m weary of watching the road and not lighting the lantern at night and hiding in the hayloft.” She lifted her chin. “I’d rather be dead than be a prisoner in my own home.”
John breathed in regret for the woman. Once he helped bring in the rustlers, he was devoting his time to Ember. If she didn’t tell him what and whom she feared, someday, someone would be pulling her down from a hayloft. And she’d be a frightened old woman who’d rather be dead than live another day looking over her shoulder. John turned his attention to Wirt.
“Ma’am,” Wirt said, “did Ralph tell you what he was doing? Or the names of who might harm you?”
She shook her head. “I’m so afraid.”
“Is there a place where you can go until this is over?” Wirt said. “A relative or friend?”
“My … my niece lives in Nebraska.”
Wirt smiled. “I understand you don’t trust us, but John and I would like to help you find safety.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“I’ll pay for it,” Wirt said. “You pack your things, and we’ll take you to the marshal to make arrangements.”
She gasped. “Why would you do that for me? I could be lying.”
“If you’re deceiving us, one day it’ll catch up to you. But what I see is a woman who wants to live free from the bondage of fear.”
She began to weep, and Wirt wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll never forget you. My brother has broken the law and still you are looking out for me.” She lifted her weathered face to him. “Even if you pay for my traveling, I can’t tell you more about Ralph.”
“John and I are determined to find who’s behind the cattle rustlin’ and murders. We think Ralph is involved. Understand I can’t guarantee what will happen to him.”
“Yes sir.”
John admired and respected what he’d just witnessed in Wirt. Mama had a good man. From this moment on, he’d never worry about Wirt Zimmerman and his mother.
CHAPTER 40
Dead ends. John had see
n enough of them. The ranches around Rocky Falls had not reported stolen cattle in two weeks. And like before, the folks were spooked. He held his breath and waited. Meanwhile, the weather for mid-August had stayed warm, but soon the days would drift into autumn, and that meant winter would soon be knocking on their door. Tomorrow all of the boys would haul more dead trees from higher ground for firewood. Mark had cured hides to tan. John always felt anxious this time of year with winter on their heels and so much to do.
He leaned on the corral fence and watched Racer pick up his head as a northern wind blew across the pasture. This afternoon they’d take a ride to check on the cattle.
“You feel it too?” he said to his stallion. “Soon the leaves will fall and snow will fly. Then we’ll be stuck mending bridles and harnesses instead of spending so many hours on the range.”
“And we’ll all be shivering,” Ember said.
He whirled around and smiled at the young woman who had stolen his heart. She handed him a cup of coffee. “Supper is about ready.”
“I’m on my way. Heard the dinner bell and wanted to enjoy a few more minutes of the sunset.” He took a sip. “How’s my girl?”
“Very happy.”
“Hope I can take the credit.”
“You can, especially today.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s my birthday.”
“Wonderful!” John scanned the area to see if any of his brothers could see from the house. Satisfied they were alone, he planted a kiss on her full lips. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you, Mr. Timmons. Even if it wasn’t my birthday, I’d still be incredibly happy, and you can take all of the credit.” She touched her finger to her chin. “God takes the credit first.”
John warmed from the inside out, while affection for her caused him to think things he dare not say or do.
“If you could be anything in this great wide country, what would it be?” she said.
“Strange question for you to ask.”
“It’s my birthday, so I’m asking.” She gestured all around them. “I already believe you are the best rancher in the country. But I imagine there’s more.”
Did she know him that well? “I’ve told only one other person this.”
She tilted her head, and he thought about kissing her again. “So it’s a secret?”
“Guess you’d say so.” He shook his head. “Not sure I can say it aloud again. A dream is rather personal. Although I did mention it to Wirt after he told me how he felt about Mama.”
She nodded. “A bigger ranch? Fine horse stock? A thousand head of cattle?”
“None of those things.”
“I have no idea. To me, you could do anything you set your mind to.”
He lifted his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’d like to go to law school and help Rocky Falls grow into a fine city. The railroad line hauls sandstone from the quarry, and we’ve drawn in a few folks because of their health and the benefits of the mountain air. But businesses here can only grow with the expansion of the railroad.”
“What about ranching?”
“I love the land and cattle, but it’s been a means of taking care of my family. There’s a law school in Austin, Texas, and in a few years Denver may have one too.”
She gave him a special smile, one he’d come to recognize as reserved for him. “You’d make a fine lawyer, John. You listen and you’re fair.” She pointed to the top rail of the fence. “See how straight this is? It’s you.”
He gazed into the brown eyes he’d grown to love. “I’d like to think so.”
“With the coming months, you’d have time to read up on schools. I’m sure your Uncle Parker would help.”
He smiled and watched Racer trot toward them. “How could I ever leave with the ranch to run?”
She patted the stallion. “You were younger than Aaron and Mark when you took over.”
“But it was real hard. Not so sure I’d want my brothers to give up their boyhood for hard work.”
“What if they’d like a chance to prove themselves? To be men of purpose like you?”
He touched her nose and grinned. “Are you always going to challenge me?”
“Always.”
“And you’ll stay until this is over.”
She blinked and nodded. “I don’t want to leave you.”
Winter could not come soon enough. A hope for the future …
Early Tuesday morning, right after sun-up, John walked through the barn and admired the mucked out stalls. The barn hadn’t looked better since Davis took on the job.
John heard a rider and walked out into the sunlight to see a stranger riding toward the house. His rifle leaned against the side of the barn. This time of the day, his arm often stiffened, but he could shoot straight and to its mark. Cattle rustlers might still be combing the area, and he’d be a fool to trust a man he didn’t know.
He scrutinized the rider. The man looked like he’d been traveling for a while—dusty clothes, shaggy beard, lean. But his rifle lay horizontal on the right side of his saddle instead of across his lap. One hand rested on his thigh, opposite the rifle and the other hand held the reins. Good sign. But John had to invoke caution.
“Mornin',” John said. “What can I do for you?”
The stranger stayed on his horse. “The name’s Steven Lockhart. Lookin’ for work.”
The boys were heading back to school soon, and he needed help, especially with Evan leaving. “Where you from?”
“Wyoming. Gets mighty cold up there.”
“Does here too.”
“Can’t be any worse. All I know is ranchin'. Can you use me? I work cheap.”
John smiled. “My brothers help out during the summer months. Right now I don’t have much work until they get back to school in September.”
“I’d be willing to work for room and board until then.”
John continued to study the young man before him. Caution jumped into his bones. “Do you have anyone I can wire in Wyoming about you?”
“Sure do. I even have a letter in my saddlebag from the last ranch where I worked.”
With all the rustling of late, John’s nature refused to take the word of a stranger. “I’d prefer wiring myself.”
“I understand. A man has to be careful. I’d do the same. Once you get a good word about me, how long before you’d need an extra hand?”
“Not for about five weeks.” John thought by then he’d be able to do Evan’s chores plus his own without his arm paining him. “I do have fence to build and cattle to drive back from summer pastures.”
“Do we have a deal?”
“Let me send a wire and talk it over with my family.”
“All right. Mind if I camp on your land tonight?”
John had been hungry and tired many a time, but those times built character. “Why don’t you have breakfast with us, and I’ll make arrangements for you to stay at a hotel tonight in Rocky Falls?”
“Couldn’t I camp on your land after I check a couple of other ranches to see if they need help?”
“We’ve had some problems with cattle rustlers. I need to be mindful of you and those looking out for their own cattle.”
“What about the local law?”
John chuckled. “I’m Rocky Falls’ deputy. We thought we found the rustler, but more livestock are missing. Folks are edgy.”
“Thanks for the warnin'. I’d enjoy breakfast with your family, but I’d like to help with chores. Never been one to take charity.”
“I respect a man who wants to work for his keep.”
“Thanks.” Steven swung down from his horse. “What can I do to help you until breakfast?”
John pointed to where a couple of trees needed to be chopped. “I was about to chop wood until then.”
“Let’s get at it.”
About thirty minutes later, with another cord of wood ready for winter, John showed Steven where to wash up at the well. His brothers were curious an
d introduced themselves. Evan studied him but said nothing. The stranger had worked hard and been good company. John listened to every word he said. Many a man with bad intentions knew how to befriend his prey. Steven could be what he claimed, or he could be a man looking for something to steal. Still, he didn’t carry a hand gun and seemed content to leave his rifle with his horse.
“I like that you’re protective of your family,” Steven said. “Shows you’re a smart man. Of course you bein’ a deputy and all shows you know how to use a gun.”
“I’d like to think so, but life can deal us a hard blow if we’re not careful.”
“What happened to your arm?”
“Got shot trying to bring in a cattle rustler. Probably not one of my smart moves.” John handed Steven a towel to dry his face, hands, and neck. “Mama’s a good cook, and there’s always plenty.”
“Bert baked the biscuits,” Davis said.
Steven laughed. “You have a brother who bakes bread?”
“No sir. Bert’s a girl. She helps Mama in the kitchen and stuff. I used to help, but now I’m too big.”
Steven eyed Davis appreciatively. “I can see you’re about ready to bring in wild mustangs. I bet you could break them too.”
The group made their way to the front door. His brothers joked and talked to Steven as though they’d known him all their lives. Maybe since John couldn’t do much with his bandaged arm, Steven might be an answer to a prayer for help.
The door opened and Ember walked out onto the porch. “Your mama and I thought we might have to go round you all up. Breakfast is—” She blanched.
“We’ve been talking to Steven,” Davis said. “He helped John chop firewood while I did my chores in the barn.”
“Ember, this is Steven Lockhart,” John said. “Thought there’d be enough breakfast for him this morning. He’s new to Rocky Falls. Lookin’ for work.”
“Mornin', miss,” Steven removed his hat. “If the food inside tastes half as good as it smells, I’ll be one happy man.”