by Linda Broday
“Now, Mr. Granger, you’re such a charming devil.” Josie shot Luke a glance, grateful he was there as Granger moved her skirts aside and sat next to her.
Luke stood in front of the fireplace with his hand resting on the mantel. His grim expression darkened the lines of his face and made him appear even more dangerous. And she knew that he knew how threatening he looked. Damn the scoundrel! But the good news was that Newt didn’t appear to recognize him.
“What’s the size of your spread, Ranger?” Luke asked casually.
“That’s Granger, with a G,” Newt corrected.
Josie tried not to laugh. Luke seemed determined to ruffle the short man’s feathers. He was more like Stoker than he ever dreamed. She wouldn’t dare tell him that, though.
Unperturbed, Luke brushed a fly from his short black vaquero jacket that accentuated his lean waist. “My mistake. The size of your ranch?”
The despicable little man reached for her hand but she warded him off by fussing over her skirts. “I have a thousand acres.” He finally glanced at Luke. “But I’m about to increase that considerably. Soon, I’ll own everything around here.”
Josie squealed. “You’ll be very important. I just knew I came to the right place.”
The besotted Newt finally caught her hand and left a slobbery kiss on the back, which made Josie squirm, wishing she could wipe it off.
Luke shifted. “Legend has this area all sewn up, senor.”
Granger smirked. “Not for long. I’m going to take him down. He sits up there in his big house, acting like some damn king or something.” He leaned closer. “But enough about the lying, cheating thief. Miss Josie, what is the purpose of your visit?”
“I’m very concerned about this feud of yours with the Legends.” She scowled at Luke when he coughed and jerked his head toward the window where a group of riders had gathered. Were they trapped here? Momentary fear swept up her spine, then she glanced at Luke and everything settled. She was as safe as a baby in its mother’s womb.
Newt jerked back. “Did that cheat send you?”
“No, in fact, he tried to keep me away.” She slowly drew a fingertip down Newt’s chest. “I have a proposition, just for little ol’ you.” Josie watched greed glitter in his eyes. She dared not glance at Luke because she could already sense the anger rising from the top of his Stetson.
Dust in the room suddenly made her sneeze.
Newt removed a handkerchief from his pocket. Before he handed it to her, he noticed it was dirty and stuffed it back into his pocket. Luke stepped forward to offer his.
“What sort of proposition?” Newt reached again for her hand. His grimy palms were harder to escape from than sticky molasses. Luke had moved away from the mantel. Josie had to conclude this quickly, before Luke took things into his hands.
“The fact is, Mr. Granger, no good can come of this feud. Decent folk can’t even travel down the road. It’s time to end this blockade of yours.” Josie widened her eyes and made her voice breathless. Where she’d learned to do that she didn’t know, but it seemed natural. “Before I or others get hurt. Or killed.”
Newt frowned. “Legend is finally taking me seriously. He’s not laughing now. I’m not ready to end this.”
“Granger, you can be the big man here,” Luke said. “You call the shots, so you can get a few things you want.”
Josie threw him a smile. “Newt,” she purred, “you can be the most important man in the area if you play your cards right. You’ll be far more famous than Stoker Legend.” She squealed. “He’ll envy you.”
“Imagine that.” Granger’s eyes glittered with greed. “Him envying me after all these years.”
“Oh, yes indeed.” Josie cringed but leaned closer. “You just have to be willing to bend—like a sapling in the wind. Feuding with your neighbor has got to stop.”
“Or else what?” Newt stared at her palm. If he spit in it, she’d wallop him good.
“If you don’t settle this, you’ll wind up with nothing.” Josie stared into his beady little eyes, trying to find some hope she could draw from. “You could lose every single thing unless you play your cards right.”
Granger scowled. It hit her that he liked fighting with Stoker. Maybe it made him feel powerful somehow.
Josie held her breath. This was the sticky part. “Now, I’ve already spoken to Mr. Legend and he’s agreed to return your beautiful racehorse. All you have to do is let him have his land back.”
“Give up the land?” he squeaked.
She fought to seal the deal, trying to grab at anything. She just prayed Stoker wouldn’t kill her when he found out she was changing the plan. “Oh, I didn’t tell you. Mr. Legend is prepared to help build you a town. Just imagine. You could own”—she searched for a name—“Grangerville.”
“Grangerville?” He brightened.
“You belong in town, not living out here on dead land. You could be mayor, someone important, someone people look up to. How does that sound?”
Granger looked ready to cry. “I don’t keep the land?”
“Now, Newt, you know it belongs to Stoker.” She fixed him with a hard, piercing stare. “Admit you manipulated those cards.”
“I just want that land so bad. I had to have it. He’s got everything.”
“Picture this—an annual horse race here that would bring folks from all around. And it would provide a way to show off the beautiful racehorses I heard you’ve acquired.” She gasped. “I see Grangerville packed with people who come to take part in horse racing, shooting matches, and other events. You’ll make it famous.” Josie prayed this did it because she was out of ideas.
“It’s mighty tempting.” Silence spread in the room. Finally, Newt Granger turned to her. “No, I won’t do it. I’m keeping Stoker’s land. I’m going to show him a thing or two.”
Bitter disappointment swept over her. She thought for sure the town would sway the greedy little man. Apparently, nothing would. Well, on the bright side, at least Stoker wouldn’t kill her. Yet, she’d failed. Josie had nothing else left to say. Her silk dress rustled as she pulled her hand from Granger’s. She set her chin and stood.
Luke moved to her side and placed his hand on the small of her back. “Then our business is concluded. Let’s go, Miss Morgan.” He shot Granger a look of scorn. “Newt doesn’t even know when he’s hit a gold mine.”
They left Granger sitting in the parlor. There was no sign of the men who had gathered while they talked. But this was no time to dawdle. Before Luke could get her to the buggy, a rider galloped up to the house. She froze at the sight of the white man wearing a wide sombrero.
In an instant, she was back upstairs at the Lucky Lady, fighting to escape. She could still feel his dirty fingernails digging into her skin, smell his putrid breath, all the time knowing that Luke couldn’t save her.
Now the man stared at them from his discolored face. The bruises and split lip were the result of tangling with Luke. Josie could tell by his puzzled expression that he hadn’t placed them yet. They needed to hurry.
Luke stiffened. “When the shooting starts, duck.”
She clasped her hands together as he strode toward Reno’s henchman. If something happened to Luke, what would she do? With the road barred, the Lone Star was too far away.
If only she’d stuck her gun in a pocket. Hell! Look what trying to be a lady got her.
She’d failed in her mission and now she couldn’t even help Luke.
Twenty-eight
Before Luke was halfway to the outlaw, Granger hurried from his adobe dwelling. “What’s going on, Artie? Why aren’t you guarding the road like I pay you to do?”
Artie’s eyes never left Luke. “Fisher sent me, boss.”
Granger stood waiting until finally snapping, “Well, spit it out. I don’t have all day. Leave Miss Morgan alone. They need to get going
.”
Luke tensed, waiting for Artie’s move. Just wound him, he told himself as he moved closer. He needed the man alive to get answers to the questions he now knew to ask. Failing that, he needed Artie to lead him to Reno. Or Brenner. A little voice inside told him someone wasn’t going to walk away from here.
The memory of Josie’s torn dress swept across his vision.
No one harmed her and lived.
“This man is wanted. He’s Luke Weston.” Artie licked his split lip.
Granger took a step back. “Are you sure?”
“The man’s sure, Ranger,” Luke drawled, his attention riveted on Artie’s eyes. “You won’t have to pay him. He’s about to die.”
This time Granger didn’t correct him on the name. The little man didn’t seem to be able to utter a single sound.
Shoot at me, Artie. Just draw and shoot. Don’t go wide and hit Josie.
Movement behind Luke barely registered, so intent was his focus.
“You’re about to pay for what you did to the lady,” Luke spat, flexing his hand. “Only one way to save yourself.”
“How’s that?” Artie snarled.
“Tell me where Reno is.” Luke’s brittle words offered no room for compromise.
“I only followed orders last night.”
“Yeah, well, that’s going to send you to hell.” Luke read fear in Artie’s ugly face.
“Look here, Weston, or whoever you are,” Newt Granger sputtered but at least found his voice. “You can’t come onto my land and kill. Are you Legend’s hired gun? Did Stoker send you?”
“I’m a person’s worst nightmare. I can be whatever, whoever, anyone wants me to be.” Luke stared at Artie. “Give me Reno Kidd.”
A horse galloped into the yard, making the hair on Luke’s neck rise. “Who is it, Josie?” he asked without turning.
At her sharp, startled cry, Luke turned enough to make out the rider who leaped from his horse, but not enough to identify him.
“Well now, it seems the lady’s having trouble talking.”
The cold voice sent familiar waves tumbling through Luke. He moved so he could see both men. Reno Kidd clutched Josie tight with his filthy hand over her mouth. Fear filled her beautiful eyes.
Darkness rose up, drying the spit in Luke’s mouth. He had to keep Reno calm until he could gain Josie’s release.
“Been a while, Reno. I see you still wear my scar,” Luke said almost casually. “This time I’ll aim for the jugular.”
“You won the last fight but this one is mine.” Reno’s eyes glittered as he placed his pistol against Josie’s cheek. “The lady’s also mine. I saw her first.”
“She doesn’t want you, compadre. The lady likes a gentle hand and you play too rough. Let her go.” Luke caught Artie judging the distance to his horse. The underling apparently didn’t want to be anywhere near them. Luke had other ideas. Artie could bring back the third one of the group—the one with a half-missing ear. “Take another step, Artie, and it’ll be your last.”
A closing door told him Granger had taken refuge inside the house. But would he get a rifle and start shooting? The thought crossed Luke’s mind.
Reno shifted, freeing his gun hand. The outlaw was getting ready to make his play. Luke waited, praying that he’d be a second faster.
If not, Josie would be at Reno’s mercy. Luke had seen what remained of women after Reno got tired of them. “Reno, I wondered what happened that night at Doan’s Crossing. Why did you attack Brenner and Walt Preston?”
The outlaw shrugged. “Thought they might be worth robbing. I didn’t recognize Brenner McCall at first. The stupid fool looked all dandified. Glad I shot him.”
“He’s still alive and kicking. Seems you don’t shoot that straight anymore, amigo,” Luke taunted.
“Maybe you don’t either, Weston.” Reno’s mouth curved in a smile, showing his rotten brown teeth. Keeping his eyes locked on Luke, he licked Josie’s cheek. “You and me, we only live until we die anyway.”
The crazy outlaw seemed to enjoy rubbing Luke’s nose into the fact that he couldn’t do a blessed thing without risking Josie’s life. Hell!
“What’s good about living only half a life, Reno? Surely, you’d like to buy a few more days. Everyone wants more time. Hell is a hot place, I hear.”
“Don’t need to go—I’m already there. I was born in hell. My father was the devil.”
In unison, Josie bit down on Reno’s hand with her teeth, stomped his foot, and ducked. “Shoot him, Luke!”
Reno raised his gun as Luke fired. The bullet hit the outlaw square in the chest, freezing the gruesome grin in place.
From the corner of Luke’s eye, he saw Artie yank out his pistol. Luke whirled and fired. His bullet sped through the air, hitting the man between the eyes, propelling him back into his horse. The animal reared up in alarm before galloping off.
Through the smoke, Luke saw Josie kneel beside Reno, wiping away the blood trickling from his mouth. Luke squatted next to her. Reno was working his tongue, trying to speak.
Luke got some water from his saddlebag and placed the canteen to Reno’s mouth.
After drinking, most of which dribbled out, Reno clutched Luke’s vest. “McCall is the…one you…want. He planned your death with…politician.”
“What are you saying?” Luke asked. “You’re not making sense.”
“Watch. Back.” Reno’s grip was starting to loosen—he didn’t have much time left. He glanced at Josie. “You’re his.” A gurgle came from his throat. Reno’s eyes rolled back into his head as he took his last breath.
“What did he mean, Luke?” Josie shivered. “I’m his what? Who’s what? Who was he talking about? I need to know.”
Luke shook his head, reeling. He was still trying to figure out what Reno had said. Brenner and Walt Preston planned his death? His old friend, Brenner, had betrayed him? And Josie was what? Brenner’s daughter? Or Walt’s daughter? Or had Reno meant something else? Wife, lover? Dammit! All he had were questions.
Josie clenched Luke’s shirtsleeve as she stared into the distance, that look on her face like she was caught in another memory.
The sudden rifle blast from a window of the house told him to get her out of there. He threw her over his shoulder and ran for the buggy.
“Make yourself small.” He rushed his gelding to the back and tied it.
Hot lead fell around him. Though Granger was a poor shot, the noise of the blasts would bring his men.
Luke jumped in next to Josie and whipped the horse into a gallop. “Hold on.” No one was going to make him take the long way around. Not this time. He set his jaw and headed toward home as fast as he could make the buggy go.
A hail of bullets suddenly struck around the buggy. Luke glanced up on a hill and there sat Brenner McCall with a rifle. Urging the horse faster, Luke jerked out his Colt and fired. McCall swung around and galloped off.
Luke’s hunch had been right. But he was still no closer to Ned Sweeney.
A quick glance behind assured him no riders were upon them. He hoped their luck would hold. Yet, five miles from Newt Granger’s house, where his land butted up against the Lone Star, five gunmen blocked the road.
Luke pulled the buggy to a halt. He gripped the handle of his Colt and got out, leveling the gun barrel at the man in the center.
“I’m coming through, however I have to do it,” Luke ground out. “Step aside or I’ll litter this road with dead bodies.”
A man on the end hollered, “We got orders not to let anyone cross.”
“Are you willing to die for Granger?” Luke asked.
Josie’s voice rang out. “Weston’s killed more men than a dog’s got fleas. Want him to add five more notches to his gun? I’d take him very seriously. Believe me, I’ve seen him shoot. No one can beat him. Five are no odds for him
.”
The armed men glanced nervously at one another.
Luke knew he was running out of time. “I’m out of patience, gentlemen. Who wants to go first? You? You?” He aimed his Colt from one to another down the line.
At last the men moved aside, giving them room to pass.
Satisfied, Luke climbed into the buggy, handing his Colt to Josie. “Keep an eye on them.”
“Don’t worry.” She glared at Granger’s men. “You move a hair and I’ll put a damn bullet in your heart. If you think a woman is too soft, I can assure you this one is not.”
Pounding hooves sounded behind them, coming from the direction of Granger’s house and gaining ground. Luke lifted the reins and set the buggy in motion. Granger’s men galloped behind at a frantic pace, getting closer and closer.
Lone Star headquarters lay too far away.
Shots from the riders’ rifles rent the air as hot lead crashed around them.
Yelling blistering curses, Josie leaned out to return fire.
Closer and closer the pursuers came. Luke could hear the sound of the horses’ hooves thundering along the ground behind them.
They weren’t going to make it.
Luke searched for a place to take cover and fight them off until help arrived but the flat land offered little. He didn’t give any thought to himself—he’d been in worse messes. It was Josie who drew his concern. He was going to keep her safe or he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
The buggy was too slow. They could never outrun the men on horseback. He whipped the horse until they careened ahead at an unsafe speed, the buggy threatening to tip over.
Then, just as Luke’s hope faded, ranch hands rode to meet them, Sam and Houston leading the charge. Luke breathed easier. Josie was safe.
He slowed the buggy. “Thanks for helping.”
Josie shrugged. “It was both our necks on the line. Had to do my part.”