A Good Man for Katie

by Marie Patrick

  “I’ll go,” Kathryne offered. Anything to get out of the house and away from the constant battle she waged with the general, away from the feelings of resentment still rippling through her. She reached for her cape, swung it over her shoulders and buttoned it then grabbed her reticule and headed out the door before Emeline could say a word.

  On the back porch, the coldness of the day hit her squarely in the face and for the first time since she’d joined the families this morning for brunch, she could actually breathe. “Come on, Sarge.”

  The dog stood and stretched. His cold nose nudged her hand as his tail fanned the air. When they stepped off the porch, the back door swung open and Emeline popped her head out. “Get some more canned milk, too. And some of that licorice Father likes.”

  “Do you want to make a list?”

  Emeline grinned. “No, you’ll remember. And Kate, take your time. It’ll give me a chance to talk to Father on your behalf.”

  For a moment, Kathryne couldn’t say anything as the meaning behind Emeline’s words sunk into her brain. “Thank you,” she mouthed as she took the walkway around to the front of the house. Sarge ran ahead, plowing his nose through the snow that had fallen last night.

  As she made her way to Graham’s, she noticed how the sunlight sparkled on the pristine white covering the ground, how clean and fresh the mountain air. Such a glorious day made her realize Emeline was right. Not every word that came from her father was cause for battle. Perhaps, if she listened more and didn’t become so defensive so quickly, she could have a better relationship with him, but then, he needed to listen more as well.

  “What do you think, Sarge? Am I being unfair to him?” The dog gave a short, muffled woof. Kathryne grinned. “You’re right. He’s a good man and he loves me.”

  She stepped up on the sidewalk in front of Graham’s and turned to the dog. “Stay.” Sarge dropped to his haunches on the sidewalk beneath him. “Good boy.” She scratched him behind the ear, where he liked to be scratched, and let herself into the general store.

  “Good morning, Kate. What can I do for you?” Jennifer Graham stood behind the cash register, the smile on her face warm and welcoming. Her daughter Lily finished adding several logs to the pot bellied stove in the corner, wiped her hands on her apron and joined her mother behind the counter.

  “Good morning, Jennifer. Lily. I just need some canned milk.” She headed directly to the shelf that held the item she needed and collected four cans before she strolled toward them. She placed her purchases on the counter. “I need sugar as well. Oh, and some licorice, please.”

  “For your father, right?” the woman grinned as she moved toward the glass jars containing an assortment of sweets, including the general’s favorite.

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  As Jennifer stuffed several licorice sticks into a bag, she said, “He’s been in every day.”

  “He does love his licorice.” Kathryne laughed as she opened her reticule and pulled out several coins, but her laughter died quickly. Outside the store, Sarge growled.

  The dog’s growl deepened, growing in intensity, followed by a woman’s scream.

  Thinking Sarge may have attacked someone or, at the very least, startled someone, Kathryne ran to the door and flung it open. The reprimand for the dog died on her tongue as Sheriff Townsend grabbed Francine Maitland around the waist and dragged her to the sidewalk. Francine struggled, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth to scream, but the noise died in her throat when Townsend squeezed her waist. The feral gleam in his eyes bordered on desperation, with a hint of insanity.

  In the next instant, Kathryne gasped, her hand flying to her throat as Sarge lunged at the sheriff, teeth bared, snarling deep in his throat. Her heart stopped with a painful thud as Townsend, still holding a struggling Francine, slid his revolver from the holster, took aim and pulled the trigger. He missed. The bullet lodged harmlessly in the wooden windowsill.

  The dog lunged again, sank his teeth into the sheriff’s arm and hung on, his growls growing louder and more menacing. Townsend shrieked, vile words spewing from his mouth as he tried to pull his arm free from the dog’s teeth though he managed to maintain his grip on his pistol.

  Sarge wouldn’t let go and blood soaked the sleeve of the sheriff’s coat. Townsend had no choice except to release Francine, who fell to the sidewalk in a sobbing heap.

  Kathryne rushed forward and helped Francine to her feet. “Find Chase. Now!” Her voice cracked as she whispered the words. Her heart pounded in her chest, her entire body shaking as Townsend brought his knee up and hit Sarge squarely in the chest. The dog howled and released his grip on the sheriff’s arm. Francine ran from the scene, her fear-filled sobs echoing in the quiet street.

  “You bastard!” Tears filled Kathryne’s eyes, and bile scalded her throat as she, too, lunged at the sheriff and scratched him across the face with her nails. Her strength, though, was no match for the tall, lean man. He captured her arm in an iron grip as he took aim and fired at the dog once more. “No!”

  Again, the bullet missed its target as Kathryne tried to yank her arm free and push him off balance at the same time. It wasn’t enough. Indeed, Townsend seemed to take great pleasure in cocking his pistol and aiming one more time.

  “No, Sarge!” Kathryne screamed as the dog lunged toward him. This time, the bullet found its mark. The sound Sarge made as the force of the bullet made him somersault on the sidewalk would live forever in her mind. Her friend, her companion, lay still, blood spouting from the hole through the side of his neck, staining his soft fur and the yellow kerchief he wore. He whimpered as he breathed, his big brown eyes cloudy with confusion and pain and yet, he still tried to crawl toward her.

  “Oh, Sarge.” Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision. Her stomach twisted against the pain in her heart. She tried to get to the dog, but Townsend wouldn’t let her. His fingers tightened on her wrist, nearly crushing the delicate bones and yet, she fought him. Her pointed boots connected with his shins, eliciting a startled yelp. She scratched at his face with her free hand and clamped her teeth into the fleshy part of his arm before he hit her, the pearl-handled pistol smashing against the side of her face.

  Dazed, Kathryne stumbled. Townsend used the momentum to push her into the store, but not before she caught sight of Ephraim peering around the corner of the building. Help was coming, for both her and Sarge. Ephraim would see to it.

  “Get the hell in there! He ain’t gonna help you now!” Townsend shoved her again, pushing her into the wooden counter where the cash register rested. She crashed into the structure with such force, her glasses flew from her face and the bell on the cash register dinged. Pain exploded in her stomach and hips where she struck the hard surface.

  She swallowed hard against the urge to vomit and forced herself to breathe as she glanced behind the counter. Neither Jennifer nor Lily were there. She only hoped they’d run for help, but that left her at the mercy of a madman.

  And Townsend was mad. One look in his eyes and she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her like he shot Sarge, but if she was to die, she had to know the truth. She turned to face him and the words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. “You killed Amanda. And Sheriff Anders. And James Stewart.”

  Townsend smirked. The pistol in his hand didn’t waver as he approached her, his long strides bringing him close. He breathed heavily from his exertions. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Blood soaked the sleeve of his coat and dripped to the floor, the plopping sound as each drop hit the wooden planks beneath their feet loud in her ears. “They asked too many questions.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Katie!” Chase ran from the schoolhouse, blood pumping through his veins. Though he hadn’t been able to catch up to Townsend in the tunnel—the lawman knew the twists and turns of the underground passage so much better—his first thought was for Kathryne’s safety. He wouldn’t put it past Townsend to hurt as many people as he could in his effort to escape th
e hangman’s noose.

  Chase crossed the bridge and pounded up the steps to Kathryne’s front porch. He didn’t bother knocking and flung the door open. “Katie!”

  The cottage was empty, though embers in the fireplace radiated a little heat. It didn’t look like she’d been here for a while, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t in harm’s way.

  Breath pluming from his lips, Chase stood on the cottage’s front porch and took in the view. From his position, he could see quite a bit of the town. Everything seemed calm and quiet. Snow sparkled in the sunlight, smoke rose from chimneys and a few hardy souls walked the streets, but most of the townspeople were indoors and out of the cold. Even the children seemed to be absent on this cold morning. He took a deep breath to ease the pain in his side and absentmindedly rubbed his thigh where Henry’s bullet had once lodged. Footprints marred the pristine white of the snow covering the ground. He recognized Kathryne’s dainty step and the longer strides of a man mixed within the paw prints left by Sarge. All were heading down the path toward town, but he couldn’t tell if they had been made at the same time.

  He took another breath, forcing himself to remain calm, and left the porch at a run. He followed the footprints until he lost them in the snow. There were too many to decipher which ones belonged to whom as he got closer to town. The only ones that remained constant were Sarge’s.

  “Is Katie here?” he asked as he let himself into the house Terrence and Emeline shared a few moments later and strode through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room. The entire extended family sat around the table—his parents, Kathryne’s parents, Emeline and Terrence—all relaxing after a hearty brunch. And every eye turned toward him.

  “Chase! You shaved!” Terrence grinned and rose from his chair. “Do you want some coffee?”

  “No time. Is Katie here?”

  “She went to Graham’s for sugar.” Emeline glanced at the big grandfather clock chiming the hour in the corner and frowned. “She should have been back by now.”

  “Hell!” he ran his fingers through his hair, anxiety clenching his stomach. He noticed, for the first time, his hat was gone. Or rather, Ty’s hat.

  “What’s wrong, son?” Charles put down his coffee cup, concern radiating from every aspect of his being.

  “Townsend got away. He used the tunnel to come back to town.”

  Virginia gasped and reached for the General’s hand as she rose from her seat. “You don’t think—”

  “I don’t know what he’ll do.” A long sigh escaped him, so at odds with the blood pounding in his veins. Desperate men did desperate things and Townsend was desperate. He could kill anyone who stood in the way of his escape. He could take hostages. He could… “I need to find him. And Katie.”

  “I’m coming with you,” the general stood, his face pale. He squeezed his wife’s hand once before releasing it. “She’ll be all right. I’m certain the sheriff isn’t anywhere near here.”

  “Let me just grab my bag.” Terrence rushed out of the room. He came back within moments, his fingers gripping the handle of the durable medical bag he carried on his home visits.

  The sharp report of gunfire stopped them all in their tracks. Three shots. Chase jumped at the sound, startled, and left the house at a run.

  Once outside, he didn’t quite know which way to go. Sound echoed and bounced off the mountains and the shots could have been fired from just about anywhere. “Check Townsend’s house,” he ordered without thinking. “The livery, too. See if his horse is still there.”

  Charles and the general followed those orders without a word, heading in separate directions as Chase and Terrence headed toward the main street. Chase’s long stride brought him to the sheriff’s office, but no one was there. They continued on, Terrence huffing and puffing in his effort to keep up.

  As they turned the corner, Francine Maitland ran straight into them, almost knocking Chase over with the force of her panicked stride. Tears marred her pale face.

  “Sheriff Townsend has Kate!” Her sobs filled his ears as her arms wrapped around him, squeezing the breath from him in her terror. “He tried to take me, too, but Sarge wouldn’t let him.”

  “Where are they?”

  The woman heaved a breath as Chase gently extracted himself from her embrace. She swallowed hard as he passed her into Terrence’s capable hands. “Graham’s.”

  “Go home, Mrs. Maitland. Stay there. Lock your doors.” He glanced at Terrence. “Make sure she’s not hurt.”

  The doctor nodded as Chase left them on the sidewalk.

  Draperies were pulled aside in the homes he passed, the residents looking into the street, but a small crowd braved the cold to cluster on the sidewalk in front of the stage coach office, their voices raised. The crowd didn’t part as Chase ran toward them. Indeed, they turned as one to stare at him.

  “What the hell is happening?” Oren Jessup, his three chins trembling, demanded. Redness crept up his face as he poked Chase in the chest with an index finger. “We heard gunfire.”

  Chase said nothing as he stared at the finger on his chest, but his expression must have been enough to convey his displeasure. Jessup’s face lost all color as he dropped his hand to his side. He stepped away as Chase turned and glared at each one of the people around him. “Go home. All of you!”

  Everyone backed up a step or two, clearing a path for Chase to pass through, except for two. Ephraim and Mrs. Cabot crouched low on the sidewalk, voices soothing and calm as Mrs. Cabot pressed her gloved hand against Sarge’s neck.

  The sight of the dog lying on the sidewalk, blood staining his fur and the kerchief around his throat stopped Chase in his tracks. Tears sprang to his eyes as he hunkered down beside them and reached for Sarge. “Hey, boy.”

  The dog whimpered and despite his injury, licked his hand.

  “He’ll be all right,” the woman assured him. “The bullet passed right through.”

  Terrence joined them, dropped his bag and gently untied the kerchief around the dog’s throat. “Go. I’ll take care of him.” Chase took one last look at his faithful companion, and sidled up to Graham’s. He peeked into through the big plate glass window. His breath stuck in his lungs.

  Kathryne looked unharmed though he could see how she trembled. Her back pressed against the counter near the cash register, hands folded in front of her, eyes wide and shiny with tears as she stared straight into the bore of Townsend’s pistol. His heart ached as his greatest fear sprang to life.

  Hold on, Katie!

  “Come on out, Townsend,” he called through the window. “It’s not Katie you want.”

  “I should have killed you when you first came to town.” The sheriff laughed, an odd, eerie sound that made Chase shiver. Madness filled that laughter.

  “Here’s your chance.” He took a step and stood in front of the window, making himself a target.

  The sheriff didn’t move, neither did the pistol in his hand. “I want my horse.”

  Chase gauged the tableau in front of him. He could try to shoot Townsend through the window and although his aim would be true, Townsend could move at the last minute. Better to wait and see the sheriff’s eyes before pulling the trigger.

  “Release Katie and I’ll have your horse brought to you. You can ride out of town. I won’t follow.”

  Again, Townsend’s maniacal laughter sent a shiver up his spine. “Do you think I’ve lost my mind?”

  Chase didn’t answer. In truth, he didn’t doubt Townsend’s sanity, or lack of it. The man knew exactly what he needed to do. If he were in the situation the sheriff found himself in, Chase would do the same and use whatever means necessary to escape alive.

  He glanced behind him and noticed the crowd had grown. Of the faces staring at him, he saw his father’s and General O’Rourke’s. He also saw his mother, her eyes bright with confidence as she comforted Virginia and Emeline. His resolve hardened. He would get Katie out of there unharmed. “Ephraim, would you get Townsend’
s horse?”

  “That’s my daughter in there.” General O’Rourke grabbed his arm and pulled him further down the sidewalk, away from the window. “Are you just going to let him ride out of town with her? He’ll kill her as soon as he feels himself safe.”

  His gaze took in the man’s pale face and stiff body. He understood. He did. “Begging your pardon, General, but you’re not helping. I love Katie. I’d never let any harm come to her.” He lowered his voice and nodded toward the crowd behind them. “Get these people off the street.”

  His words appeased the older man. For the moment at least. The general took a step back, though his face remained pale, then did his best to push the townspeople further away from Graham’s.

  The steady shoosh of horse’s hooves in the snow drew Chase’s attention. Ephraim led the sheriff’s mount up the street and laid the reins in his hand. “Thanks, Ephraim.” He spoke without looking at the blacksmith. “You need to get out of harm’s way, too.” Once Ephraim was safe, Chase stepped into the street and led the horse toward the front of the store. “Come on out, Townsend.” He stood in plain view as he wrapped the reins around the post in front of the store. “Your horse is here.”

  The sheriff stepped closer to the window, his lips curled into a cold, calculating smile.

  The urge to draw his pistol and shoot Townsend through the glass almost overwhelmed him, but as if reading his thoughts, the sheriff’s grin widened. He moved quickly, grabbing Kathryne around the waist and bringing her against him.

  Chase sucked in his breath.

  Holding Kathryne as a shield, Townsend opened the door. He squinted against the brightness of the sun, but his revolver remained steady and pressed to Kathryne’s neck as they stood on the raised sidewalk. They still had to step into the street before Townsend could retrieve his mount.

  “Back up,” Townsend ordered.

  Chase took a few steps away then stood absolutely still, his hands relaxed at his sides. “Katie,” he whispered.