Devils on Horseback: Zeke, Book 3

by Beth Williamson

  “Who was it, preacher man?” came a question.

  “An appointed man we all rely on to keep us safe. I don’t think I need to say his name, do I? He violated our trust by falling victim to man’s oldest vices—liquor and women. We need to help him, and thereby help our town.”

  Byron Ackerman stood and Naomi’s hands clenched into fists. This definitely did not bode well for Zeke.

  “I know of whom he speaks. Sheriff Zeke Blackwood has made a mockery of lawmen everywhere. He has embarrassed this town too many times.” Murmurs of agreement rippled through the church. “I agree with Reverend Conley, something must be done.”

  Naomi didn’t wait to hear what else Byron or Gregory had to say. She jumped out of the pew and ran from the church, her heart pounding so hard, her ears hurt from the vibrations. She had to warn him, to protect him from small-minded fools like Reverend Conley and whatever frenzy he could whip up in church with the unsuspecting citizens of Tanger. She’d been wrong about him—he wasn’t as sweet as he appeared.

  The streets were nearly deserted, giving an unreal feel to the morning. She should have been embarrassed by her behavior in running through Tanger, but there was no time to be. A fierce protective urge gripped her and she had to follow through on it.

  There was a time in her life when she would have run the opposite direction from conflict or fear, but no more. She had grown up in the last three years, like it or not. Now her man, the one who held her heart, needed her and she’d damn sure be there for him.

  She slammed into the restaurant and ran up the stairs, regardless of the astonished looks thrown her way by several folks. Although she was going too fast to see who they were, one of them was probably Zeke’s brother. More than likely he’d follow her up the steps, but she didn’t care one whit.

  She wanted to burst into the room, but knocked on the door instead in a staccato rhythm designed to wake the dead.

  “What?” came a groggy, annoyed voice.

  “Zeke, can I come in?”

  “Naomi?” A thump, a groan and a curse preceded him opening the door.

  Naomi had to stop herself from breaking it down.

  He looked out at her with bloodshot eyes and a terrible smell of stale whiskey—definitely a man who had been raked over the coals. She stepped back and covered her mouth. He ran a hand down his whiskered cheeks. She gazed down and realized he was quite naked.

  “What is it?”

  “You’re still drunk and you haven’t got a stitch on.” How was she going to clear his good name if he resembled the exact sins Gregory spoke of?

  “Did you come here to tell me what I already knew? I ain’t still drunk, just got a hangover bad enough to kill a buffalo.” He opened the door wider and gestured with his hand. “You might as well come in before somebody sees you up here.”

  “I don’t care if they see me or not.” She marched into his room, head held high. “You’ve got to come to church with me.”

  The last thing she expected was for him to burst out laughing, but that’s what he did. Then he moaned and grabbed his forehead.

  “Jesus, no laughing, that really hurts.” He closed the door and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “Why do you want me to go to church? You planning on getting hitched today?”

  “Reverend Conley and Byron Ackerman are stirring up the town to lynch you.” It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say, but it got his attention.

  His face lost all color and his jaw tightened. “Who’s lynching me?”

  “Well, not actually lynching, but they’re talking about your sins, or judging you for what they believe are your sins.” She wrung her hands together. “You need to get over there and set them straight before the town council decides to fire you.”

  He scowled at her. “You mean he’s telling about what he saw this morning? What a little shit.”

  “Zeke, you’re missing the point.” She knelt in front of him, ignoring his nakedness in favor of saving him from small-minded fools. “Regardless of the drinking binge, and your behavior toward me, I’ve seen what you can do as a sheriff. You’re good at it and I believe Tanger needs you.”

  He shook his head, the scowl fading. “You came over here to warn me.”

  “Well, yes, I did. Somebody’s got to protect you.” Naomi had no idea how to explain to him why she needed to shield him from harm without confessing she loved him. He certainly wasn’t ready for that considering he could barely stand or think.

  “Believe it or not, I do have friends, little one.” He reached out a shaking hand to cup her cheek. “But having a fierce little doe stand by my side is an amazing thing.”

  Naomi wasn’t sure she wanted to be known as a fierce little doe, but the sentiment made her heart gallop. He wasn’t the type of man to give compliments lightly, or ever flatter anyone, which meant his words carried more than their weight. He kissed her.

  “You deserve better than a broken-down soldier who crawls into the bottom of a whiskey bottle.”

  “That’s my choice to make, not yours. Now let’s get you cleaned up and go to church.” She tugged at his shoulders, but he didn’t budge. “I’m not going to let you lie here and let him win.”

  Zeke looked up at her, his beautiful brown eyes swimming with agony. “Why shouldn’t I let him win? He’s right about me.”

  Naomi had had enough. She spotted a basin of water on the washstand. Before he could realize what she was doing, she threw the water in his face.

  “Get up.” This time she didn’t wait for an answer, she took the pitcher and refilled the washbasin. “I haven’t shaved anyone in two years, but I’m sure it will come back to me quick.”

  He wiped the water off his face and glared at her.

  She had wanted him to jump up and fight for himself, but he didn’t. So she had to do it for him, come hell or high water. Naomi would wash, shave and dress him. After finding his shaving gear, she set to work. He winced a few times when she scraped the razor across his face, but other than that, he didn’t speak or stop her from what she was doing.

  After wiping off his face with a towel, she used soap and a rag to wash his face and armpits so he didn’t smell quite so badly. Spotting clean clothes on a hook, Naomi grabbed them and dressed Zeke as she would a small child. He simply let her do what she wanted.

  It scared the hell out of her because it appeared he’d given up.

  She wouldn’t allow that to happen.

  It took about ten minutes, but she had him somewhat presentable and ushered him down the stairs. They went slowly because he gripped the banister as if it had magical powers to keep him upright. Naomi had a hard time believing he wasn’t still drunk because he sure acted like it.

  Either way, they made it out to the street and to the church within twenty-five minutes. Fortunately it appeared the congregation was still inside since the town was almost empty of folks. When they arrived in the church, Zeke started to drag his feet.

  “Get moving, Ezekiel, you’re not backing out now.” She pushed him up the steps and into the church.

  The doors banged open and every head turned to face them. Zeke’s face flushed red and Naomi straightened her shoulders, not in the least afraid of what would happen. Or at least that’s what she told herself as her knees knocked together.

  “Sheriff.” Gregory frowned, looking a bit startled at Zeke’s appearance.

  “Morning, Reverend.” Zeke glanced around, his thumbs tucked into his waistband. “I hear you folks are talking about me this morning.”

  He strolled in slowly, as if he didn’t have a care in the world or that he was drunk and naked half an hour earlier. The low buzz of conversation followed his progress.

  “I came by to see what was going on.”

  Byron popped up from the front row. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. You’ve been flaunting your fornicating and
drinking, a poor example for the rest of the town to follow. You’re a poor excuse for a sheriff and if the town council won’t get rid of you, perhaps we can.”

  The threat hung in the air, leaving a tang of disbelief and outrage on Naomi’s tongue. She stepped towards him, but Zeke grabbed her arm.

  “Let me fight my own battle, little one,” he whispered.

  As Naomi watched, Zeke walked towards the altar and turned to face everyone. They likely saw a big blond man with guns and an attitude, but she saw a man consumed by pain and self-loathing who did his best to survive moment by moment.

  “I ain’t perfect and probably not the best person to be sheriff.” He nodded to Hettie and the rest of the town council. “Folks gave me a chance to do my best and I guess I didn’t do what was expected. I appreciate that chance, but there’s no need to talk about getting rid of me. I quit.”

  To Naomi’s horror, he walked out of the church.

  Reverend Conley thanked the congregation for coming to church and announced the services were over. Pandemonium reigned as rumors and innuendo flew through the crowd.

  She was angry and frustrated with the man who’d crawled into her heart only to step on it on his way to hell. Fury surged through her as she started after him, but the reverend stopped her.

  “Miss Tucker.” He took her arm. “I am surprised to see you here.” He blushed. “I mean, glad to see you attended church. Everyone is welcome.”

  “Except for the sheriff, right? He’s a person too, with feelings. How dare you crucify him in front of these people?” She wanted to tear her arm from his grasp, but in his gaze, she saw an earnestness that had been missing earlier.

  “Please listen to me.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’ve only been in town a short time. Mr. Ackerman had told me how the sheriff was drunk all the time or over at Aphrodite’s, ah, upstairs. Then this morning when I saw him, well, I came to the conclusion Mr. Ackerman was right. I like Mr. Blackwood, he was kind to me and I didn’t mean to hurt him. Please, you must believe me.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you say now because the damage is done.” She shifted her anger to the young minister. “You said you liked Zeke, so how could you destroy him like that?”

  Red flags of shame appeared on Gregory’s face. “That wasn’t my intention. I got a little carried away.”

  “You got a lot carried away. The job was the last thing that mattered to him. Do you understand? He’s given up and you gave him permission to do it.” Naomi wanted to howl and cry at the naiveté of the minister. Although she and the young man were probably close in age, she felt decades older than him.

  “I’ll go find him and apologize. Next week I’ll do it in front of the congregation.” He wrung his hands together. “It was my first sermon and I wanted it to be a powerful one. I-I made an awful mistake.”

  She didn’t have time for his self-recrimination or his apologies. Gregory could speak to his God about that.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.” Naomi knew where Zeke would be and she had to stop him before he truly jumped straight into hell.

  Zeke walked away from the church, ignoring the shouting and the hideous mess he’d left behind. Pain began somewhere near his toes and spread through his body until he could barely breathe through it.

  Naomi had been a beacon for him, a light he tried to reach and bask in the glow of. However it hadn’t been fated to last. She was a good person, a better person than he could ever hope to be. After all, she had at least tried to save him while he threw himself off the cliff of despair and misery. Now that he’d destroyed his chance at a respectable job in Tanger and his future with Naomi, there was nothing left for him to look forward to. He couldn’t stay there, which left him completely alone.

  A pitiful man walked towards Aphrodite’s and away from the church. The building held so many bad and good memories for him, just being there mixed him up terribly. Allison had represented all that was good in the world after the war, but she’d been taken away from him. Then there was Naomi, a tough, no-nonsense survivor who represented the person he wanted to be.

  And God help him, he loved her, enough to let her go and save her from the depths to which he was about to plunge. No doubt Gideon would try to stop him, and perhaps Lee and Jake, but this time no one would be able to stop his descent.

  When he arrived at the saloon, it was dark, but he knew Lucy wouldn’t care if he helped himself to a drink or two. He’d done it before after all.

  The gloom inside the building was only broken by shafts of sunlight sneaking through the slats in the shutters. His boots thunked on the wooden floor as he walked towards the bar. He half expected Joe to come running out with a gun and shoot him, but it didn’t happen. That’s when he remembered seeing the older man and the rest of the girls at the church.

  Lucy appeared on the stairs, as if she’d been waiting for him. By his estimation they were alone in the saloon. The look of naked longing on her face unnerved him, but he didn’t run. He stood in place and awaited his fate.

  She wore a chocolate-colored dress that complemented her eyes. Lucy was a beautiful, shapely woman, of that there was no doubt, but she wasn’t Naomi. That woman might be a wisp of a thing, but she had more strength in her slender form than he did in his entire body, which was likely almost double her size.

  Lucy was more like Zeke. Lonely, desperate and willing to do whatever she needed to make the pain go away. In this case, it was Zeke she wanted and he decided to give himself to her. Perhaps that would make Naomi realize what she’d set herself up for.

  “Mornin’, Zeke.” Lucy walked behind the bar, a knowing look on her face. “Thirsty?”

  He pretended not to notice that his hands shook or that his stomach tightened up so hard, bile coated the back of his throat. It was too hard to keep pushing himself to be something he wasn’t. For once, Zeke wanted to do things the easy way.

  Lucy poured the amber liquid, the good stuff she kept behind the bar, not the rotgut, then pushed the glass towards him. There were at least three shots in the tall glass. The demons inside the glass shrieked at him, taunted him with their jibes, and he listened.

  As he lifted the glass to his lips, he closed his eyes. A fierce slap made the glass fly across the room, spraying him with whiskey. A second slap landed on his cheek and he opened his eyes to find a furious Naomi in front of him.

  Her chest heaved as emotions swam across her face. Disappointment, anger, love and annoyance. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

  “You are a fool, Ezekiel Blackwood. You’re just going to go ahead and throw away a good life, aren’t you? Hardships are plenty in the new south and you’ve been handed a gift of a job and a second chance on a silver platter.” Her face grew flushed as she shouted at him. He hadn’t known a lioness lurked behind the petite woman. “Before the war, I had dreams of marrying my beau, Ronald Cooper, but he was killed along with my father. On one day I lost everything I loved.”

  She poked one sharp finger into his chest. “God knows I hadn’t intended on doing any of things I’ve done over the last three years, but that was what life gave me so I did what I could with it. How dare you think for even a minute that being a lawman with good friends, a home to live in and good health were to be thrown away?”

  Naomi took a breath then swung to Lucy. “And you! What kind of friend are you to Zeke? Friends don’t give each other whiskey when they’re drunkards. You’re purposely keeping him pickled and it makes me mad enough to beat you blind.”

  Lucy stepped back a pace or two. “Zeke is a grown man who makes his own decisions.”

  “Is that so? Who gave him the whiskey last night and this morning?” Naomi was starting to scare the other woman, judging by the expression on Lucy’s face.

  “I-I was only protecting my business.”

  “I don’t even know what that means. You know
I was really grateful for the job and I still am, but I can’t be party to digging Zeke’s grave.” Naomi swung back to Zeke and he jumped.

  “You’re a pitiful excuse for a man, Zeke, and unless you walk out of this saloon for good right now, you’ll be throwing me away too.” She crossed her arms and pinched her lips so hard, they turned white. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and Zeke was sorry he had been the cause of them.

  But he couldn’t leave the saloon. Not yet.

  When he turned back to the bar and gestured to Lucy to pour him another, Naomi’s gasp of pain echoed through his body. He couldn’t even swallow the lump of regret and agony that had taken up residence in his throat.

  Zeke closed his eyes as her footsteps faded. When he opened them, Lucy was scowling at him.

  “You love her, don’t you?”

  “It don’t matter if I love her or not, Naomi don’t need a drunk husband and I can’t be anything else.” Zeke took the bottle out of Lucy’s hands and walked out of the saloon.

  Alone.

  * * * * *

  Zeke threw a change of clothes and a few other essentials in his saddlebags and left the restaurant without speaking to Gideon or Lee. Right about then, he couldn’t talk even if he wanted to. Naomi’s loss had robbed him of the ability to speak, much less think.

  He shoved a whiskey bottle in the saddlebags as he walked down the street towards the livery. Folks stood in clumps on the street, pointing and whispering as they watched him. No doubt he was adding to their gossiping, as if he wasn’t already the main topic.

  It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He needed to pick up his horse and go away for a while. He needed to be alone, to think and maybe figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

  Zeke had a feeling he knew what he wanted, but couldn’t make himself take a chance and grab it. He’d broken Naomi’s heart, and for that he’d never forgive himself, and she’d never forgive him.

  * * * * *

  Naomi went upstairs to pack, ignoring knocks at the door from Louisa, then Carmen. Her heart was shattered and nothing they said could fix it. She’d been so full of high hopes about Tanger and starting a new life, but everything had been snatched away from her.