She said nothing though her chin trembled. Fear and anger, which he tried so hard to repress, surged through him. His hand itched to feel the weight of his revolver, put an end to this standoff, and free Kathryne from this madman’s clutches.
Such trust radiated from her tear-filled eyes, he felt he could do anything. He released his breath then gave a slight nod. Kathryne’s eyes widened for a moment before she went limp in the sheriff’s arms. Unprepared, Townsend stumbled, the gun held against Kathryne’s neck moving just a bit.
More than enough to take the chance.
Chase drew his pistol and fired. The bullet pierced Townsend’s right shoulder. The sheriff’s pistol landed on the sidewalk with a thump. Chase fired thrice more, each time aiming for a place that would cause pain, but not kill the man.
Townsend screamed as each bullet lodged in his body. He struggled to remain on his feet, but fell to the wooden sidewalk. Still, he tried to reach for his gun, cursing Chase.
Chase jumped to the sidewalk beside him and kicked the revolver into the street. He spared barely a glance for the bleeding man and gathered Kathryne in his arms. “Katie,” he whispered in her ear before his throat constricted and tears blurred his vision.
She trembled within his embrace and he could feel the frantic pounding of her heart. “Sarge?”
“He’ll be all right.”
“I was so scared, Chase.”
“So was I. Seeing you in Townsend’s arms, seeing his pistol pressed against your neck…” Even now, with her safe, he couldn’t help thinking what could have been, how quickly she could have left his life. “I love you, Katie.”
“He killed them, Chase. All of them.” Tears rolled down her cheek. “Anders. James. Amanda. He told me.”
The townspeople, unable to be held back any longer now that the danger was over, swarmed around them. Terrence dropped to his knees beside the sheriff, opened his medical bag and ordered several people to help him stop the flow of blood.
Chase watched the doctor work, but didn’t let go of Kathryne. Indeed, he didn’t think he’d ever let go
Blood stained Townsend’s coat, not only the sleeve where Sarge had bit him, but from the shoulder and arm where Chase had shot him. Red splotches spread on his trouser legs as well though Mrs. Cabot laid heavy hands over the wounds.
“Will he live?” Chase asked, even though he didn’t care one way or the other. As long as Kathryne was in his arms and safe, Townsend could expire on the spot. And the world would be a much happier place.
Terrence glanced up at him and grinned. “By the time he goes to trial, he’ll be good as new.”
“Good.” Chase leaned down and whispered in Townsend’s ear. “Do you know how easy it would be to kill you right now?”
Townsend glared at him. “What’s…stopping you?” he panted, his eyelids beginning to droop.
Chase smiled. He couldn’t help it. “The pleasure of seeing you on trial, answering for your crimes.”
Epilog
Chase rose from his seat and poured himself another cup of coffee, his fourth, but that didn’t count because he hadn’t drunk any of them. They’d all gone stone cold in the cup as he waited for news. He sipped the steaming brew and paced back and forth between his desk and the Ben Franklin stove in the corner, his boot heels heavy on the floorboards. His patience, never his strong suit to begin with, thinned and he muttered beneath his breath.
“Why don’t you just go home?” Joe grinned, folded his newspaper, and tossed it into the basket that held kindling. The shiny deputy’s badge pinned to his shirt glistened as he returned to his desk. “You’re not much good here today and I can handle anything that comes up.”
Indeed, he could, as Chase well knew. Though only twenty, Joe Rawlins had become a great deputy; he’d be an even better sheriff when the time came. The knowledge warmed Chase’s heart and made him glad he’d taken Joe under his wing so long ago.
Chase smirked and took another sip of coffee. “Can’t go home. I wasn’t much good there either.” A flush warmed his face as he said the words. “They said I was in the way and kicked me out.”
“They? Who’re they?”
“My folks from Colorado, Katie’s folks from Washington.” He smirked again. “Doc Leslie and Emy are there, of course. So are Laurel and Ty. The colonel and Prudence are staying as well.” He put down his cup and paced the floor. “It’s a good thing I built that big house as it doesn’t look like anyone’s leaving anytime soon.”
Joyous barking outside the office drew his attention. He glanced out the window and saw Sarge and Bullet, Sarge’s offspring, running circles around Walter as the boy tried to make his way up the street. His heart thundered in his chest as his mouth spread into a wide grin. He grabbed his hat and jammed it on his head. “You’re on your own, Joe, but if there’s trouble, come get me.”
“When was the last time we had trouble in town aside from a few drunken rowdies? Go. Be with your wife.” Joe grinned and ushered him out of the office.
Sarge and Bullet met him as soon as he stepped outside and closed the door, bodies wriggling, tails wagging and slapping Chase’s legs. Wet noses nudged Chase’s hand, looking for a show of affection. Without conscious thought, Chase obliged, sending them both into fits of pleasure.
“They sent me to come get you,” Walter said as he stepped onto the raised sidewalk. “You can come home now.”
“Is Katie all right? Do I have a son or a daughter?”
The boy shuffled his feet and shrugged his shoulders. A blush reddened his face, making his freckles stand out even more as he frowned. “They made me, Sarge and Bullet stay outside, but I heard a baby cryin’ and lots of laughin’ so I guess everyone is fine.” He looked at Chase, a touch of jealousy in every aspect of his expression. “Why’d they make me stay outside?”
Chase stepped off the sidewalk, his hand resting on the boy’s shoulder and shook his head. “I don’t know, son. Don’t feel too badly though. They made me stay away too.” He lowered his voice. “It won’t be long before you have a brother or sister and they’ll probably make you stay outside for that, too, but you can come to my house and we’ll play checkers.”
The boy shrugged and sighed. His face retained its pinkish hue as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his trousers and fell into step beside Chase. Sarge ran ahead, his son racing along side him, to stop and smell every little thing that caught their interest. They watered a few trees as well.
“Good afternoon, Sheriff. Walter.” Francine Maitland stopped in the middle of the street outside Graham’s General Store, her arms loaded with paper-wrapped packages, the warm expression on her face conveying the fact she wasn’t opposed to chatting for a bit.
Chase stopped, but only for a moment as he acknowledged the greeting and her expression with a slight nod and a hastily spoken apology. “I’m sorry, Fran, but I gotta get home.”
The woman’s brow raised as her smile widened. “Everything all right? Did Kate have the baby?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned then squeezed Walter’s shoulder and pointed at the packages in Mrs. Maitland’s hands. “Help Mrs. Maitland home, please.”
“Yes, sir,” the boy responded and began to take the packages from the woman’s arms.
Francine, though she relinquished her burden, didn’t move. She eyed him with curiosity. “Well, what is it?”
“Don’t know, ma’am. I’m on my way to find out,” he said over his shoulder as started walking away at a quick pace.
“Give my best to Kate.”
Chase grinned. He couldn’t help it. So much had changed since the day he rode into Crystal Springs, holster slung low on his hips. Four years ago, Francine Maitland would have crossed the street to avoid him. And she wouldn’t have been the only one. Indeed, everyone, except for Kathryne and a few others, had done their best to let him know he wasn’t wanted.
Now, he couldn’t walk down the street without someone drawing him into conversation. Kathryne had brough
t about most of those changes with her unfailing belief in him as a good man. Arresting Townsend and Cassandra Kinsbrough for murder among other crimes hadn’t hurt, either.
He crossed the bridge, the dogs ahead of him and walked up the stone path to the front porch of his home. Pride swelled his chest, not only for the home he’d built with his own two hands, but for the friends and family gathered inside.
He peeked through the lace curtain in the parlor window. Too many people crowded the room. His parents as well as Kathryne’s and friends he’d come to love. Laurel, belly rounded with her second child, due any day, and her husband, Ty. Emy, cousin by marriage and friend by choice, just beginning to show the first blushes of her pregnancy, sat beside Prudence Barstow. Colonel Barstow, retired now, watched his wife with such love in his eyes, Chase sucked in his breath.
He knew that if he walked through the front door, they’d want to shake his hand or hug him or slap him on the back in congratulations when all he really wanted was to see Kathryne and the baby. He stepped off the front porch and walked around the back of the house. Except for Terrence washing up at the sink, the kitchen was empty. He let himself in to the smells of freshly brewed coffee and a roast in the oven.
“Chase! Congratulations, Papa!” Terrence wiped his hands on a towel then tossed the damp item onto the counter. “Sorry we had to ask you to leave earlier.”
“It’s all right. How is Katie?”
“She’s fine.” He adjusted the newly acquired glasses on his face. “Her labor progressed much as I expected. Easiest delivery I’ve had in a long time.”
“And the baby?”
The doctor grinned. “Ten fingers. Ten toes. Strong, healthy lungs. In short, perfect.”
The air wheezed out of Chase with relief.
“She’s waiting for you.”
Chase took the back stairs two at a time, ran down the hall to the bedroom he shared with Kathryne and just stood in the doorway. He couldn’t seem to get his legs to move any further into the room as his gaze settled on his wife and the bundle in her arms. She lay in their bed, propped up by a mountain of pillows behind her back. He studied her, committing to memory how she looked at this moment, her face alive with happiness, her eyes soft and filled with love as she smoothed her fingertips over the baby’s face.
He cleared his throat over the lump that threatened to choke him.
Kathryne’s smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen as she held out her hand.
“Chase,” she whispered, her voice sounding tired to his ears, but holding a note of pride just the same. “Come and meet your son.”
Oh, what those words did to his heart. “A son? We have a son?”
Tears misted his eyes and blurred his vision as he entered the room. He sat on the edge of the bed then clasped her hand in his, his heart taking flight as the love they shared filled him before he leaned over and touched her lips with the gentlest of kisses.
Pride, love, and happiness rocked him to his soul and his hand trembled as he pulled back the blanket swaddling the baby in her arms. “He’s beautiful.”
“Yes, he is. You can hold him.”
Chase shook his head. He’d never held a baby, at least not one this small. He might do something wrong.
Kathryne grinned, her smile lighting up her whole face. “He won’t break, Chase. He’s quite sturdy.” She placed the baby in his arms, not giving him any choice, but to accept the gift she offered.
Chase’s throat constricted as he gazed at his son. “Welcome to the world, Charles Galen.”
A word about the author...
Marie Patrick has always had a love affair with words and books but it wasn’t until a trip to Arizona, where she now makes her home with her husband and two furry, four-legged “girls,” that she became inspired to write about the sometimes desolate yet beautiful West. Her inspiration doesn’t just come from the wild west, though. It comes from history itself. She is fascinated with pirates and men in uniform and lawmen with shiny badges.
When not writing or researching her favorite topics, she can usually be found curled up with a good book. Marie loves to hear from her readers.
Drop her a note at:
[email protected]
or visit her website at:
www.mariepatrick.com.
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A Good Man for Katie Page 29