She could barely see her foreman’s frown in the darkness. He held a long gun at the ready, its barrel pointing square in the center of Eric’s back. At her feet, Radar scootched in close, trying to catch Layton’s attention. His wagging tail wiggled his whole body.
“Sarah.” Layton glanced at her but didn’t lower the weapon. “Thank God you’re okay.”
“I’m glad you’re here. Some bad things are happening. We need to use your phone.”
Layton’s bushy gray brows dipped. His narrowed eyes drilled into Eric’s back. “Bad things. Yeah, I heard.”
Eric released her foot. He started to straighten.
“Don’t move, son.”
Sarah stepped toward him. “Layton—”
“Careful, Sarah. I don’t think you know what this man here has done.”
“Done?” She scrambled to make sense of what he was saying. Eric had done nothing…unless Layton was talking about how he’d ambushed the sheriff to save her. “Did you see Sheriff Gillette at the Buckrail?”
“’Course I did. Had to put up the horses and park the rig, didn’t I?”
“I don’t know what he told you, but…”
“He told me all I needed to hear. The law is looking for this man.”
Eric raised his hands to the level of his ears and stood straight. “Maybe I can—”
“You shut your mouth, boy.”
Sarah gasped. For a moment, she thought Layton was going to pull the trigger. She held her breath.
“I ain’t listening to anything you have to say, after what you did. You move again, and you won’t be alive to say another word.”
Sarah tried to angle her body between Layton and Eric. She had to convince her foreman to lower the rifle. She had to make him understand. “Eric only did what he did to save me.”
Layton stared at her, brows arched. “Did what he did? For you? I don’t think you know what’s gone down today, Sarah.”
“The sheriff. He threatened me. He was going to hurt me, Layton. Eric stopped him.”
Layton shook his head. “What I’m talking about don’t have much to do with the sheriff. It’s Randy, Sarah. He’s dead.”
Even though Sarah had spent the last hours dwelling on her brother’s loss, hearing Layton say the words out loud jolted through her as if she was experiencing them for the first time. She swallowed and willed herself not to begin crying anew. “I know.”
“There’s more. More that you don’t know.”
Her head felt light, like it was spinning. She needed to ask, to find out what else had happened. But she couldn’t manage to squeeze the words past her lips.
“It’s him, Sarah.” Layton tipped the brim of his Stetson at Eric. “He’s the one who did it. He killed your brother in cold blood.”
“No. No. Listen, Layton—”
“I’ll listen. Long as you need me to. First I got to call the sheriff.”
“No, please. Wait. Just for a second. You don’t understand.”
“I think I’m understanding everything just fine. He’s wanted for murder. Your brother’s murder. This man’s a fugitive.”
Sarah felt dizzy. So much for convincing other law enforcement agencies to help. The sheriff had beaten them to it. But maybe she could convince Layton to at least give Eric a chance to get away while he could. “Please, Layton. For me.”
Layton paused. His breath fogged the air before dissipating into the night.
“Talk to me. Inside. Alone.” She glanced at Eric, then back to Layton. “It will just take a minute. Then you can do what you need to do.”
“And he’s gonna just sit and wait. Right.” Layton shook his head slowly. He motioned for Eric to walk toward the trailer door with a wave of his rifle.
“What are you going to do?” Sarah asked.
He eyed a lariat that was laying on the steps leading to the door, as if he’d dropped it when he’d seen them approaching his home. “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t sneak away before our talk is over.”
“This isn’t necessary, Layton. I’m not going to run off and leave Sarah.”
She tried not to think about how he’d done exactly that just three months ago, but some bitter remnant inside her couldn’t help taking note. It figured that when his leaving finally made sense, Eric resisted the urge. “Please, Layton. He won’t leave.”
Layton dropped his gaze to the ground. “Take off your boots. Socks, too.”
Eric glanced at Sarah, then knelt and did as Layton ordered. He tucked the socks into his boots and stood barefoot on the rocky ground.
“Bring those along, will you, Sarah?” Layton asked, his stare not wavering from Eric. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Lander. You wander out of the light here, and you’re game during hunting season, as far as I’m concerned. Understand?”
“Understand.” Eric met Sarah’s eyes and he mouthed, Be careful.
Layton was like a second father to her. No, more than that. He was far more attentive and caring than her own father had ever been. Layton wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t turn her over to the sheriff. He couldn’t.
Unease fluttered over her skin like the cold wind. She followed him into the trailer, carrying Eric’s hiking boots in her hand. Once the screen door slammed behind her, she set the boots on the floor and faced Layton.
The foreman closed the solid door and stepped to the living room window. Watching Eric outside, he lowered the rifle, pointing the barrel at the floor, and slipped his finger out of the trigger guard. “That man killed your brother, Sarah.”
“That’s what the sheriff told you?”
“Not just him. It’s been all over the news. Like I said, there’s a statewide manhunt. We have to call the sheriff. Report that he’s here.”
“Eric didn’t kill Randy.”
“I figured you’d say that.”
“He didn’t.”
“Were you there?”
“No.”
He let out a breath. “Then you don’t really know what happened.”
“Neither do you.”
“The sheriff does. They have forensics people. They found his hunting rifle.”
“Eric’s?”
“It’s the murder weapon, Sarah.”
“It can’t be. Or at least Eric wasn’t the one who fired it.”
“They found his truck at the ranch. Towed it away for testing. It had blood in it.”
“They told you all this?”
“You think I made it up?”
“No, no, but… Eric’s head was bleeding. The blood must be his.”
“You’re making excuses for him?”
Sarah had to find a way to make Layton listen. He didn’t understand. How could he? He hadn’t seen the sheriff’s desperation when he didn’t get the answers he expected. He didn’t know what the man was willing to do to her. What he’d almost done. “It’s the sheriff, Layton. Two of his deputies shot Randy.”
“Lander told you that.”
“Yes, but—l”
“But nothing.”
“The sheriff himself, Layton. He threatened me.”
Layton’s brows pulled low. “Threatened? How?”
“He handcuffed me and asked me questions about Randy. Where he was going. What I knew.” She held up her hands to show him the bruises on her wrists, starting to purple.
“And what did you tell him?”
“That I didn’t know anything. I mean, I knew Randy was climbing with Eric. He told me that much. But the rest?”
“And what did Gillette say?”
“He didn’t believe me.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No. No. Eric got there first. But if he hadn’t jumped Gillette, I don’t know what would have happened.”
Layton stared out the window. Although he focused on Eric, who was standing unmoving within the circle of light glowing from above the door, his thoughts seemed far away.
Maybe she was reaching him. “If Eric’s rifle was used to shoot Randy, then someone else was f
iring it. One of the deputies.”
Layton rubbed his chin between fingers and thumb. “You really believe him?”
“I do.”
“You believed him last winter.”
Sarah’s cheeks heated. She’d thought she’d found something with Eric. Something that would grow. Something that would last. And although she’d never told Layton exactly how she felt about Eric, it didn’t surprise her that he knew. He had to have seen it, in her happiness when she and Eric were together and in her devastation after Eric had broken it off. “I know I was wrong then. But I’m not wrong now. Eric is not a murderer.”
“If he’s as innocent as you say, he should turn himself in.”
She didn’t want to argue with him. Not when she knew she couldn’t win. Layton trusted the law. The system had delivered justice when his daughter was killed all those years ago. It was no surprise he wanted to trust it now. “That’s up to Eric.”
He shook his head. “Maybe so. But if you’re with him, you’re in danger. The sheriff will think you’re part of Lander’s plan. That you’re working with him or something.”
“I am working with him. I’m working to find the truth.”
Layton looked away. “You’re my family, Sarah… like my own daughter.”
An ache hollowed out at the base of her throat. Since Layton had lost his daughter, he’d adopted Sarah in every way that mattered. He’d watched over her, cared for her, been there for her, while her parents were too wound up in their war with one another to give much thought to their children. Sometimes she couldn’t help but feeling that Layton’s attention had saved her from following Randy’s self-destructive path. “I know. I feel the same way about you.”
“Then let the sheriff take Lander. Let the law sort things out. You can stay here with me. I’ll protect you.”
That had always been the bottom line for Layton. Protecting her. But he hadn’t seen the sheriff’s face, his desperation, his refusal to let anything stand in his way. Layton was a good man, but he didn’t have any special kind of pull in the county. As the owner of a decent-sized cattle operation, she had more political muscle than he did. If the sheriff continued to come after her, as he’d already started, a man like Layton couldn’t stop him, no matter what the foreman wanted to believe.
And she didn’t believe for one second that the law would sort anything out.
“The sheriff is framing Eric. He might even have him killed. Just like he and his men killed Randy.”
Layton’s fence-straight frame seemed to droop in front of her eyes. The foreman shook his head. “I know you loved your brother, but he chose the type of life he wanted. He hung out with a rough crowd. Scum. Keith and Glenn saw his truck down to the Full Throttle the very afternoon he got out of jail. You hang out with people like that, you become one of ’em. Any one of those friends of Randy’s might have killed him at any time.”
She could feel the tears again, that pressure, that sting. He wasn’t listening. “But Eric saw—”
“That’s just it. Eric saw. The sheriff and deputies shooting people down? That’s pretty hard to believe.”
“You didn’t see the sheriff the way I did. He’s convinced I know what Randy was looking for. He’s not going to let me walk away, even if you turn Eric over to him.”
“Do you know what he’s looking for?”
“No.”
“Lander?”
“He doesn’t know, either.”
Layton stroked the stock of his rifle with his thumb.
Did he believe her? She’d like to think so, but she couldn’t tell. “We need to find out what’s going on. We need to learn the truth.”
“Stay with him and you’re putting yourself in danger, Sarah.”
“I might be in danger, but it’s not coming from Eric.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“I’m sure.”
Her stomach tightened, making her feel sick. She had to think of something to convince him. Her and the ranch were all Layton really cared about. Maybe that was the key. “I’ll make you a deal.”
He tilted his head and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
“If you don’t call the sheriff, if you forget Eric was here, I’ll stay here with you.”
“You’re asking a lot, Sarah.”
“The sheriff is corrupt.”
“Sheriff Gillette believes in justice. He’s a lawman to his bones.”
Despite his obvious doubts, Layton would never believe the sheriff was a murderer. He had no reason to distrust the law and every reason to distrust Eric. She doubted anything she said could make him change his mind. But maybe she didn’t have to. “All he needs is time to find out what’s going on. Time to discover why Randy died. Listen to me. Please, Layton.”
He stared over the top of her head and out the window. Finally he gave a hesitant nod. “I’ll always listen to you. I just don’t agree that letting a murderer go is a good idea.”
“Whether Eric finds something at the place where Randy was headed or not, he’ll turn himself in, just not to Sheriff Gillette.”
“And you can promise me that?”
“Yes.”
Layton tilted his head to the side, a gesture that usually showed he was softening.
“So you won’t call the sheriff?”
“I have to report Lander was here, Sarah. It’s against the law to keep something like that to myself.”
“But you’ll wait a bit? Give him a chance to find out why Randy was killed?”
He let out a groan and shook his head. “God help me.”
Sarah’s whole body felt spongy with relief. Unfortunately that wasn’t all Eric would need. “I hate to ask you for more, Layton, but…”
“What?”
“Can Eric borrow some supplies and equipment?”
A chuckle rumbled low in his chest. He shook his head, not in a way that indicated he was turning her down, but in an “I can’t believe you’d ask” sort of way.
“You can tell the sheriff he stole it.”
“What does he need?”
“Water, food, climbing gear.”
“Fine.”
“And the ATV?”
“That belongs to the ranch, and you know it. Where I’m sitting, he’s going to have to ask you if he wants to borrow that.”
“Thank you, Layton. Thank you so much.” She reached up to him and he gathered her into a hug.
The warm scent of pipe smoke and fresh air made her throat clench. And for a moment she felt like she was a little girl once more, with Layton always there to watch out for her. Always there to make things right.
Too bad this time the problem was far too big for him to make it go away.
______
Eric sorted through ropes, harnesses and assortment of carabiners and other equipment Layton stored in the barn. Jamming the gear into a pack alongside protein bars, water and a small first-aid kit, he tried to push the myriad of what-ifs to the back of his mind. He’d cleaned the cut on his head, even if it did still throb like a son of a bitch. Now that he had transportation, food, water and most of the equipment he needed, he was in good shape to make the trek to Saddle Horn Ridge. That didn’t mean he was eager to leave Sarah behind.
The ranch foreman had promised to keep their secret and keep Sarah safe, but Eric still felt uneasy about the whole thing. He never could read Layton. The foreman was good at keeping his feelings squirreled away, at least those other than contempt for Eric. But though Sarah trusted him, Eric didn’t.
Sarah stuck her head into the tack room. Their clothes had been dried, and she was wearing an oversized coat provided by Layton. Her black-and-white shadow padded into the barn and laid down at her feet. “The ATV is gassed up and ready.”
So this was goodbye. He felt a little shaky in the pit of his stomach. “You’re sure Layton isn’t phoning the sheriff as we speak, so he can head me off at the ridge?”
“He promised.”
“And you believe
him.”
“He’s never let me down before.”
“Good to know.”
“Eric?”
A little jolt shimmered up his spine at her tone. “What is it?”
She pressed her lips together as if trying to keep words from slipping past. She raised her hand to touch him, then let it fall to her side. “Good luck is all.”
He reached out a hand and skimmed it down her arm. What he wouldn’t give to be able to pull her into his arms right now. Take her in a kiss. Show her all the things he couldn’t let himself feel, couldn’t let himself want. “Thanks.”
The tack room door flew open. Layton pushed inside. His gray hair was tousled, as if he’d been running agitated hands through it. His eyes gaped wide with alarm. “You got to get out of here. Now.”
Sarah stared at him, blood draining from her face and forcing her lips taut. “The sheriff?”
“He’s on his way.”
Eric finished shoving the equipment into the pack and yanked the zipper home. “How did he know we’re here?”
“A neighbor? A hunch? I don’t know. But he just called me. Started asking questions.” Layton motioned for them to move, scooping the air with his hands.
A neighbor? Layton didn’t have any neighbors, not for miles. Of course it probably didn’t take a big guess for the sheriff to figure Sarah would go to the closest place she could for help. Layton’s. Not that the reason mattered. The only thing important now was getting the hell out of here. He was grateful Layton tipped him off. “What did you tell him?”
“That I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I don’t think he believed me. And Sarah?”
She looked up at the older man.
“What you said before about the sheriff? It’s true. He isn’t just after Lander. He wants you, too. You’ll have to go with Lander after all.”
Sarah nodded, that determined set returning to her jaw.
As much as leaving Sarah bothered Eric, having her go with him to the ridge was not what he would choose. But he couldn’t see another way. No matter what happened, he would make sure she was safe.
Shoving extra climbing equipment into the backpack, he glanced down at Radar. The dog had been lying flat out on his side a moment ago, but now he crouched, staring at Sarah as if waiting for a command so he could fly into action and fix everything the humans were upset about.
Fugitive (A Rocky Mountain Thriller Book 2) Page 4