Rides a Hero sb-2

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Rides a Hero sb-2 Page 25

by Heather Graham


  The man cracked Kristin hard upon the head and she fell at his feet. He smiled at Shannon and aimed the gun toward her sister's back. "Drop it."

  "Do it, Shannon," Iris advised wearily. "That's Fitz. And he will shoot her, without a thought."

  "Why, thank you, Iris," Fitz drawled softly, "for that fine commendation. Girl, drop the gun."

  Shannon inhaled and exhaled. Fitz cocked the gun. Shannon slowly bent and lay down her Colt.

  "That was a very fine idea, young woman." He nodded to Bear. "Bring her to my office."

  Bear set his arms upon Shannon. She tried to shake him off. "I can walk on my own!" she spat out.

  "Fitz, you can't hold this girl—" Iris began.

  "Iris, I am so disappointed in you!" Fitz said, shaking his head with a half smile. "Fulton, escort our friend Iris to my chamber, will you? Iris, I don't know what promises you made to get in here, but we'll just discuss them all. Later. And you will pay up."

  Fulton grabbed Iris, sweeping her little pistol from her hands and jerking her around. "Come on, Iris. You heard the boss."

  "Fitz, you can't hold her! Fitz, you—"

  "I can, and I will, Iris," Fitz said. He stepped over Kristin and started down the stairs. "Get her out of here, Fulton. You'd better start worrying about yourself, Iris. Harboring a known criminal like this one here. Why, we could just shoot you down on the spot, Iris, and no court of law in the country could have a thing to say about it. Fulton, get her out of here!"

  "Fitz, you'll pay!" Iris vowed as Fulton wrenched her arm behind her back. Iris cried out in pain. Shannon couldn't bear seeing Iris so hurt on her behalf. She flew at Fitz, her nails gouging his flesh.

  "Let her alone, you bastard!" she hissed.

  She didn't expect the iron grip of the man. He caught her flailing fists and pressed her against the banister. When she tried to kick him he lashed out, slapping her so hard that she staggered to her knees. He jerked her to her feet and prodded her before him. He threw her through a door in the foyer, and she fell to the ground.

  He followed her into the office, stepping over her skirts. He closed the door behind him and walked around his desk to sit, idly watching her for several moments.

  Shannon barely dared move. She stared at the man and waited.

  "Well, well, well," he murmured at last. "My net is closing fast around all the little fishes."

  "I don't know what you mean," Shannon said.

  "Don't you?" he said, arching a distinguished white brow. "I think that you do. After all, my dear, you are here now, aren't you?" He smiled. "I hear things, you know. Nothing much happens in these parts that I don't hear about. Captain Malachi Slater was with you in Haywood."

  Shannon shrugged. "I'm here on my own."

  "Come, come, my dear. Malachi Slater gunned down half my men in the woods along with his bushwhacker friends. Bushwhackers. You never can trust them. I even heard that Malachi Slater gunned down a fellow Reb just the other day."

  "He didn't gun down anyone," Shannon said.

  "Ah, but he is near!" Hayden Fitz said. He smiled. "And your name is Shannon, and you're a Slater now, too. Is that true?"

  Shannon shrugged. "Malachi despises me. If you hear everything, you must know that he and I are enemies. We were on different sides during the war, Mr. Fitz. Perhaps you should know, too, that my brother is a highly respected Union officer. When he gets his hands on you, you'll be really sorry."

  Fitz laughed, delighted. "Don't fret, girl. Your brother will be too late to help you. Oh, young lady! I can't tell you just how happy I am to have you. The net does draw tighter and tighter. And I know you are Mrs. Malachi Slater." He stood up, coming around the desk. He looked down at her. "You're even prettier than your sister, and I didn't think that possible. My men would really enjoy you. And they just might, you know. I could enjoy an evening with you myself—" He broke off, shrugging. "But I want the Slaters first. I want every last one of them dead."

  "You'll never do it," Shannon said defiantly. "They'll kill you, and you know it. You're so damned afraid of them that you can barely stand it!"

  "Those Slaters are cold-blooded murderers!"

  "The Slaters! Your brother swept in and murdered innocent women! How dare you talk about cold-blooded murder?"

  "Bushwhackers deserved to die."

  "There weren't any bushwhackers back when Cole's wife was killed! Just bastards like your brother!"

  Fitz clenched his teeth and struck out at her with his booted foot. She screamed with the sudden pain.

  The door burst open. Bear and Fulton rushed in.

  "Trouble, boss?" Bear asked. Fulton was frowning, staring at Shannon.

  "Boss, you know you can't hold another woman here. Someone will protest—"

  "Shut up, Fulton."

  "But boss, if this gets out, too, now…"

  "Mary Surratt was hanged for complicity in the Lincoln assassination," Fitz said quietly, staring at Shannon. "I'm sure that I can pin complicity on these lovely ladies, too."

  "But boss, what about Iris?"

  "Fulton, are you questioning me?"

  "Sir, it's just—"

  "Bear, go out, will you? Check the street and see if we've got any other visitors running around tonight."

  "Yes, sir."

  Bear ran out. Fulton asked, "Mr. Fitz, should I go out with him?"

  Shannon should have seen the curious cold light in Fitz's strange gray eyes, but she wasn't prepared for what happened next.

  "No, Fulton, you stay here," Fitz said. "I need you." Then he pulled out his little pistol and aimed it at Fulton.

  "No!" Fulton gasped, his eyes widening with horror.

  Fitz fired. Fulton dropped to the floor.

  And Hayden Fitz threw himself on top of Shannon, pretending to struggle with her.

  The door burst open. Bear was back.

  "She shot him!" Fitz cried. "The little bitch came flying at me and stole my pistol and shot Fulton, shot him down dead, in cold blood."

  "Liar!" Shannon raged, trying to free herself. Fitz held her tightly, meeting her eyes with a cold smile.

  "Murderess!" He stood and dragged her to her feet. "Damned bushwhacker's murderess!" he swore. He held her very close in a deadly challenge. "You'll hang for this!" he promised, and shoved her toward Bear. "Lock her up. Lock her up with her sister. They can both hang for murder, and for conspiracy to do murder!"

  "You can't get away with this!" Shannon cried.

  "Watch me, Mrs. Slater. Just watch me. You'll feel the rope around your neck and then you'll know."

  She escaped from Bear and flew at Fitz with such a rage that she managed to rake bloody scratches down his cheeks with her nails. He hissed out something, and Bear came up behind her. He struck her hard on the head with the butt of his gun.

  Hayden Fitz went hazy before her. Then the world went black.

  "Lock them both up," Fitz said. "And make sure poor Fulton is brought over to Darby's funeral parlor. See that he's done up right. Stupid, murdering bitch."

  "Yes, sir, yes, sir," Bear said. He scooped Shannon up into his arms and left the office.

  Hayden Fitz stepped over Fulton's body. He walked to the stairs and looked up them. He smiled.

  Iris had yet to pay for her part in the night's proceedings. She had yet to pay…

  But she would pay very dearly.

  He set his hand upon the banister and started up the stairs.

  "That's—that's all I know," Cindy said unhappily, staring at the three Slater brothers. "A friend of Bear's come in here about midnight, and told everyone what happened. We've got to move the three of you—they'll come here looking for you, and I'm giong to have to pretend to be innocent. I—"

  Malachi stood up. "Cindy, you don't have to do anything. I'm going in tonight," he said softly.

  "No! Malachi, no, that's just what Fitz wants!" Cindy protested. "If you go raging in—"

  "He's got my wife," Malachi thundered.

  Cole stood and c
lapped Malachi on the shoulder. "He's had my wife, Malachi, don't forget that. I admit, bursting in, guns blazing, was my first thought. But Fitz will kill them, Malachi."

  Malachi slunk back into his chair. He stared across the room.

  "We have to bide our time," Jamie murmured.

  "There will be some kind of a trial," Cindy said. She looked unhappily at Malachi. "But Hayden's telling everybody that Shannon McCahy Slater shot one of his men in cold blood. The trial will be rigged. She'll be condemned, and unless he gets his hands on you, he will hang her. He'll hang them both."

  Malachi stood again. He strode across the room and came back to stand before Cole.

  "A hanging. A big crowd, ropes. Lots of confusion."

  Cole smiled slowly. "A few sharpshooters could do a fair amount of damage in a crowd like that."

  Malachi grinned his slow, crooked smile. Cole laughed, and as Cindy watched, even Jamie smiled with a leisurely pleasure.

  "You've all lost your minds!" she told them.

  "No, darlin'," Malachi drawled softly. "I think we've just found our way out of this mess."

  "What are you—"

  Cindy broke off. Someone was knocking at the door. A voice called, "Cindy! It's Gretchen. I need to see you."

  The Slaters quickly stood. Malachi came around behind the bar. Cole and Jamie sank against the pillars. Gretchen pushed open the door. She was followed, by a tall man clad in the dark blue uniform of the Union cavalry man.

  "Cindy, this man insists he get to you!" Gretchen said, rubbing her wrist and looking at the stranger in the shadows. "He said that he knows the Slaters are around here somewhere, and he wants Cole to know that the baby is fine." Pretty, sandy-haired, freckle-faced Gretchen looked at the man resentfully. "He said something about a house shouldn't be divided, not a family, and that the Slaters ought to know what he was talking about."

  Malachi came around the bar. He looked closely at the aranger. He started to laugh. "Matthew! Matthew McCahy! How are you?"

  Matthew stepped forward. "Well, Malachi!" Matthew pumped his hand firmly. "What in God's name is going on? I've been following a trail of the most absurd stories to get here. Red Legs and bushwhackers, corpses all over. I've got friends investigating Fitz, but I don't seem to be able to get to my sisters. What the hell is going on? I hear tell that they arrested Shannon today, too, for murder."

  "It's all right," Malachi said. "We've got a plan."

  Cole and Jamie stepped out of the shadows. Cindy sighed with relief. "Well, I think that this calls for drinks all around," she murmured.

  "Drinks, then we've got to get out of here before we cause Cindy any trouble," Cole said.

  He took a seat at the round table. The other men followed him. Matthew McCahy looked hard at Malachi. "All right What's the plan?"

  "It's dangerous, Matthew. We might get ourselves shot up."

  "They're my sisters," Matthew said. "My flesh and blood. I'll darned well get shot up for them if I feel like it." He narrowed his eyes. "Kristin is Cole's wife. But I've got more of a stake in this thing than either of you have, Malachi and Jamie."

  Malachi shook his head. "Shannon is my wife," he said, finding with surprise that breaking this news got easier with practice.

  "What?" Matthew said incredulously.

  "Malachi married Shannon," Jamie answered, smiling with amusement.

  "Yes, I married Shannon!" Malachi said dryly. "Now, if you all don't mind, think we could get on with this?"

  "Sure," Matthew said.

  Malachi leaned across the table and started talking. Matthew listened gravely. When Malachi was done, he sat back, nodding. "Think we'll have any help on it?" he asked.

  "Jamie's got a couple of friends from Texas here," Malachi said.

  "And I've met some people in the area," Cole added. "Maybe they won't take a stand against Fitz alone, but if we give them half a chance, they'll help us."

  "It doesn't matter what we do or don't have," Malachi said. "As far as I see it, it's our best shot. Are we agreed?"

  All around the table, they nodded to him one by one. Jamie lifted his whiskey glass. "What the hell. A man's gotta die sometime," he said cheerfully.

  Malachi stood. "Let's get out of here. Cindy, you'll keep us up on everything that happens. Everything."

  "Of course, Malachi. You know that."

  An hour later, the Slaters and Matthew McCahy had slipped away into the night.

  When Fitz's men came to the house, there was no sign that they had ever been near.

  The only benefit to being held was that she was with her sister.

  For the first day, Shannon nervously paced the room, but she was grateful that they had at least been kept together. She hadn't really meant to say much about her own strained relationship with Malachi, but the hours dragged on and Shannon found herself telling her sister almost everything.

  Almost…

  She didn't tell her how easily she had fallen into her old enemy's arms, or how she had longed for him to touch her again and again. She didn't tell her that even as they waited now, prisoners in the room, she thought of her husband, longing to be with him, aching to see his slow, lazy grin and the spark it ignited in his eyes. She didn't speak about that longing…

  But watching Kristin's smile, she thought that her sister read her mind, and her heart, and that she knew.

  "Actually," Kristin said mischievously, "I think you just might be perfect for one another."

  Shannon shook her head. "Kristin, I don't know. I should let him out of the marriage. But Iris says that I'm a fool if I don't fight for him."

  "I agree with Iris," Kristin said. She took Shannon's hands. "I'll never forget how miserable I was about Cole! I was tied up in knots, hating him, loving him. But it worked out for us, Shannon. I didn't think that he would ever forget his first wife, but he did fall in love with me. Shannon, even when I gave birth to Gabe, I was so afraid that Cole would never, never love me. You have to fight sometimes, for anything in life that is good. Look at the two of us now. Things have worked out—"

  She broke off and Shannon bit her lip, watching her sister. Nothing had worked out for any of them. They were in the midst of disaster.

  "I'm so scared!" Kristin said softly.

  Shannon threw her arms around her. "It's all right. It's going to be all right!"

  The two sisters hugged one another, shivering. They didn't know if it would be all right at all.

  The next day was the mock trial, which took place in the town courthouse. Hayden Fitz sat on the bench as judge; the jurors were selected from among his men. Shannon was accused of murder. She stood at the witness stand and listened silently to the charge, then turned scornfully upon Fitz.

  "I didn't murder anyone. You shot down your friend, Mr. Fitz. You shot him down in cold blood because he was protesting your cruelty to me. You may own this town, Mr. Fitz, but I can't really believe that you own everyone in it. Someone will get to you. The war is over, Hayden Fitz. No one will let you do murder endlessly!"

  There was a murmur among the crowd. Fitz stood, pointing his gavel at her. "You murdered Fulton. I saw you with my own eyes. You murdered him to free your outlaw sister. You shot down men in Missouri, too. You're in league with your husband, and the two of you rode around the country in Cole Slater's gang, bushwhacking, murdering innocent Union women and children."

  "Never," Shannon said quietly.

  Fitz slammed his gavel against his desk. "You may step down, Mrs. Slater."

  She didn't step down; she was dragged down. Kristin was brought up. Kristin denied everything, and threw at Fitz his brother's activities as a jayhawker. She described graphically how Cole's first wife had died.

  A murmur rose in the courtroom, but Fitz ignored it. Kristin was handcuffed and led back to Shannon. They were both returned to the room with the barred windows at Fitz's home while the carefully selected jury came to their decision.

  By night, the verdict was brought back to them. They were both co
nvicted of murder and conspiracy against the Union.

  They were to be hanged one week from that night at dawn.

  "One week," Kristin told Shannon bitterly. "They want to make sure to give Cole and Malachi and Jamie a chance to show up."

  Shannon nodded. One week. She looked at her sister. It had already been three days since she had been captured.

  "Kristin?"

  "Yes?"

  "Where do you suppose they are? I'm scared, too, Kristin. They were in town. And now it's so silent! What if they've already been caught, and been taken…" Her voice trailed away miserably.

  "They haven't been taken," Kristin told her dryly. "Fitz would have men walking through the streets with their heads on stakes if he'd caught them."

  That was true, Shannon thought.

  But as the days passed, they still heard nothing. An ominous silence had settled over the town. A harsh, brooding silence, as if even the air and the earth waited…

  And prayed.

  Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, the week passed. Finally, the night before the scheduled hanging came. Kristin sat in the room's one chair; Shannon stood by the window.

  The scaffold had been built beneath the window, right in the center of the street, because Fitz had wanted them to watch its building. Shannon stared at it with growing horror.

  It was a long night.

  Morning finally came. "I—I can't believe that they haven't tried to rescue us!" Shannon told Kristin.

  Kristin stared at the ceiling. "I was wrong. They must be dead already," she said softly.

  Shannon felt as if icy waters settled over her heart and her body. She had endured too much. If Malachi was dead, then so be it. She wanted no more of this earth, of the awful pain and suffering. He had just taught her how to live…

  And now, it was over.

  When Bear came for them, he tied their hands behind thier backs and led them out. Kristin smiled at her sister as they walked into the pearly gray dawn. It was going to be an absurdly beautiful summer's day. "Pa will be there, I'm certain," she said. "It won't be so hard to die. Mother will be there, too. And Robert Ellsworth. Oh, Shannon! What about Gabe, what will happen to him?"

  "Delilah will love him. Matthew will come home, and he will raise him like his own."

 

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