by Jodi Thomas
He lifted his rifle from a resting place in the office without breaking stride. Flinging the door wide, he stepped back to look before running onto the porch.
A team of horses, lathered and snorting for breath, pulled to a halt at his door. Austin struck a match and lit the lantern hanging from one of the porch poles. When he looked up, he couldn’t believe the sight in the wagon. True sat on the bench, eyes wide with fear and hands bleeding from trying to hold the reins tightly.
“Marshal!” True cried. “Marshal, you’ve got to help us!”
As he rounded the wagon, Austin strapped his gunbelt around his waist.
“They shot at us from all directions!” True was sobbing so hard the marshal could barely understand the child’s words. “There must have been a hundred of them, maybe two hundred.”
“Who?” Austin looked around, making sure the wagon hadn’t been followed.
“I don’t know,” True answered. “I was asleep in the back, but I think we were about halfway to Colton’s ranch, and all at once I heard gunfire. Colton fired back into the blackness as he ordered us to keep down. When shots came again, he was hit hard.”
Austin pulled the covers from the back bed. There, cuddled as close as she could to the bench sat Delta, wearing her green dress and cape. Colton’s head rested on her skirts as if in sleep, but he looked more dead than alive.
“Is he breathing?” Austin placed his hand on Colton’s throat and felt a weak pulse still beating. Blood was splattered everywhere across his clothes.
Delta gently brushed Colton’s black hair off his bloody forehead. “It’s all my fault,” she mumbled. “The bullet was meant for me.”
The woman must be in shock, Austin thought. She wasn’t making any sense.
He quickly lifted Colton from her arms. “We’ll look at whose fault it is after we get this man some medical help.”
Delta and True followed him into the office. “He’s been gut-shot!” Delta cried. “I couldn’t make him stop bleeding.”
Jennie ran from the back room. She was within a step of Delta when the tiny blonde’s blue eyes rolled up. With Jennie cradling her, the two women slid to the floor together. “It’s all right,” she whispered to Delta as if the words could somehow make it true. “Everything’s all right now; you’re here. You’re safe.”
Austin carried Colton into the first cell and placed him on one of two bunks. A crimson puddle of blood darkened his white shirt from just above the belt line to his shoulder. He also had a cut across his forehead just below his hairline that looked like it might have happened when he fell from the wagon.
Pulling clothes away from the wound, Austin glanced at True. “Can you help, son?”
“Yes, sir,” True answered, hiding tiny bloody hands from sight.
“Good, ‘cause I need you now.” Austin didn’t like the size of Colton’s wound. Whoever had shot at the man meant to kill him. “Go tell the doc I need him fast, then go over to Spider Morris’s house and tell him what happened.”
“Yes, sir,” True said while already running to follow orders.
Austin spread a blanket over the wounded man and turned to Jennie. “How’s Delta?”
For once Jennie didn’t bother to defend her lie. “I don’t think she’s hurt. She just fainted.”
Austin lifted Delta and carried her to the other bunk inside the cell. “I think it would be best if I ran over to the Harvey House and got Audrey.” The look on his face told Jennie he didn’t give Colton much hope. “She’ll probably do as much good as the doc.”
Jennie nodded. For a breath’s length they stood, staring at each other, wishing there was time to say goodbye. Wishing their night together hadn’t ended so quickly. Both wishing there were no lies between them.
Without a word Austin disappeared into the back room to finish dressing.
DELTA WOKE, THINKING for a moment she’d had a nightmare. Then the memory of the night before focused. When they’d left the dance, she’d been feeling dizzy and had feared she might have to ask Colton to stop alongside the road if her stomach didn’t settle. Too much punch and dancing, she’d decided.
But her queasiness calmed as they traveled along the midnight dark road, avoiding holes as best they could. True was asleep in the wagon bed. Colton remained silent as always, but he put his arm around her for warmth and she leaned into him. The shadows moved like an old man needing slumber, fanning Delta to sleep with a cool breath.
From somewhere up ahead gunfire flashed in the blackness like ground lightning. Delta came full awake, staring into the night that seemed even blacker after the flashes of light. Colton reached for his rifle and swung her over the bench to safety before he stopped the horses.
“Stay down,” he ordered. “No matter what happens, stay down!”
When True appeared at his back, Colton shoved the reins into his tiny hands and whispered, “Hold on tight, boy, no matter how much it hurts. If you lose control of the horses with the next round of fire, we’re all dead.”
Colton stepped down, away from the wagon, making as much noise as he could. He raised his rifle and fired one shot into the night.
Delta screamed, suddenly aware of what he was doing. Any future shots from the highwaymen would be pointed toward him and away from her and True. Bright light flashed from another round he issued, marking him for the attacker.
An answer came before her scream died in the air. Colton took the bullet straight on, as though he’d been bracing himself for it for years. Then he crumpled without a sound.
Delta jumped from the wagon and felt in the darkness for his body. “Colton?” she cried as her hands moved along him.
No answer.
“Colton!” Panic hit Delta so hard she shook from the blow. She pulled at his arm while her ears ached with waiting to hear the unseen killer fire again.
Silence. Only silence. Whoever was out there seemed in no hurry to kill her.
Delta moved her fingers over Colton’s clothes until she felt the warmth of his blood gushing out an opening at his waist. Frantically, she pushed against the wound, trying to stop the flow.
True tied the reins around the brake and climbed down. “We got to get out of here, miss.”
“Not without him,” Delta answered. She couldn’t just leave Colton to die in the roadway.
“But it ain’t gonna take whoever shot Colton long to figure out we’re here. Our only chance is to try and make it to town by sunup.”
“Leave me,” Colton whispered between clenched teeth. “Leave me. I’ve been a dead man for years.”
Delta felt him go limp in her embrace and knew the pain had finally won over his consciousness. She also knew the boy was right. They had to move quickly. “Help me lift him.”
Together they managed to get Colton in the wagon. Delta climbed in with him and whispered to True, “Can you drive a team?”
“You bet.” True moved around to the front wheel. “Don’t look all that hard. Henry explained it all to me the other day.”
True threaded the leather through his tiny fingers as Colton had done and slapped the horses into action.
Delta forced out all thought except holding on to Colton, until she saw the outline of town at daybreak. He hadn’t moved, and she’d kept her hand over his wound, pushing as hard as she could against the steady flow of blood oozing out. But the crimson banner of death spread.
Finally, she’d known she was safe when she saw Jennie. The horror of the night slid away, and the dizziness she’d felt after the dance returned with a mighty vengeance at having been set aside because of her fears. Without warning, the world floated away, and she watched consciousness fade first to gray, then to black.
When Delta opened her eyes, she wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the dizziness had lessened. She took in her surroundings: the dusty cell, the sheriff’s office beyond, morning shining through the open door as though the sunshine could warm away all the darkness. Colton quietly slept in a bunk four feet from her.
Jennie was shoving logs into an old stove while the smell of coffee drifted across the room.
Without caring that she was ruining her dress, Delta crawled out of her bunk and knelt on the floor beside Colton. She placed her arm protectively over his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she pulled the derringer he’d given her from between the folds of her skirts. “The shooting was all my fault.” She could almost see her stepbrother hiding in the shadows waiting for them. He’d probably shot Colton just to get him out of the way. Delta was sure Ward planned to kill her more slowly.
Resting her head on his shoulder, Delta couldn’t stop the tears. “I’m so sorry,” she cried.
Colton’s hand covered her hair. “No.” His voice was so weak Delta wasn’t sure she heard it.
“What?” She turned and stared at his ghost-white face.
Colton stroked her curls with his fingers. “It’s not your fault, Mary Elizabeth. I’ve a number of men who want me dead.”
Pain won another battle as Colton’s eyes closed.
Delta held his hand as tightly as she could. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I won’t leave you.” He was the only man she’d ever admired in her life. In the two weeks she’d been with him, she’d known what it was like not to be afraid for the first time in her memory. “Promise you won’t die and leave me.”
Colton was too far into his battle to answer, but Audrey took up the challenge. “He’s not going to die.” The tall redhead set down her sewing basket that doubled as her medical bag. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”
True stood behind Audrey, close as a noonday shadow. “The doc’s out of town delivering a baby but Sheriff Morris will be here in a minute.”
Audrey looked down at Colton, then smiled at Delta. “Does he really treat you good, honey?”
The question was too honest to be answered any other way but directly. “Yes. He’s been good to me. In the two weeks I’ve been with him, he’s never said an unkind word.” In fact he’d said very few words at all.
“Well, then, I’d best go to work, ‘cause he’s too handsome a man to die.” As she worked, Audrey continued talking. “Let the bushwackers kill off a few of those no-accounts a poxed pig wouldn’t breed with and leave the good-looking men alone.”
Delta wiped tears from her cheeks and smiled. With Audrey around, it was hard to believe everything wouldn’t be all right.
Audrey smiled back. “That’s better. Even death can’t ride in a buckboard full of smiles.”
The redheaded woman yelled orders so fast at True and Jennie, the little jail seemed like a crowded train station. Delta helped when she could and steadfastly refused to leave Colton’s side. Austin and Sheriff Morris appeared, wanting to ask Colton questions.
But Audrey shooed them out of the cell. “We’ll worry about saving this man’s life first, before you two try to figure out who used him for target practice.”
Both lawmen moved reluctantly to the porch. “I’d rather step in a nest of rattlers with one bullet in my gun than argue with that woman.” Spider shook his head. “I sure hopes she marries Wiley. With her fire and his strength they oughta have some fine younguns populating this country in no time.”
Austin agreed as he stepped off the porch. “I’ll ride out to the site where they were attacked and see if I can find out anything.”
Spider Morris pulled up a chair in the morning sunlight to wait out the day’s events. “I’ll keep my eyes on things around town.”
Within a few minutes Austin had ridden out and Spider’s eyes were half-lowered in sleep. Forcing himself alert, he pulled out his pipe and was about to light it when he heard someone crying very softly. For a moment he just listened, placing the sound, then he moved around the corner of the jail to the alley.
A tiny ball of rags looked like it had blown up in the corner between two buildings.
“True?” Morris moved closer. “Is that you crying?”
True looked up with eyes burning in anger. White streaks washed down dirty cheeks. “I ain’t cryin’!”
Spider drew out a knife and began cleaning his pipe. “Course you weren’t. Everyone knows nobody but sissy girls cry.”
“I ain’t no sissy!” True’s body straightened.
Only one bushy eyebrow showed Morris’s surprise. What True hadn’t said told far more than what she had said. Morris moved a little closer. “But you are a girl, aren’t you?”
True shoved a tear from her face. “Maybe I am. I don’t see that it’s none of your concern. I ain’t breaking no law if I’m a girl or a boy, am I?”
Spider shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or the other and leaned against the side of the building. “Boy or girl, what you did last night was a mighty brave thing. I don’t know many pint-sized younguns who could have driven a team as well as you did.”
“A fellow has to do what needs doing sometimes, no matter how much it hurts.”
“Or a girl,” Spider added and noticed True didn’t argue. He looked down at the hands she’d hidden in her armpits. “Driving a team can be hard on even a man’s hands.”
“They don’t hurt much,” True lied. “I’ve been hurt more and never even cried one tear.”
Spider acted as though his pipe were the only thing that really interested him. “Why don’t you go inside and let Jennie or Audrey take a look at those cuts?”
True shook her head. “I ain’t gonna bother them. They’re trying to keep Colton alive. And I want him to live powerful much.” She sniffed. “They don’t need me whining about a few little scrapes. I can take care of it myself.”
Morris nodded. “I reckon you can. You probably already know to wash the cuts real good with lye soap and then rub alum root into the wound.”
True looked at him closely. “Course I do. I ain’t no half-wit kid.”
“I got some alum in my bottom desk drawer if you’re thinking of doctoring yourself. It’s amazing how much better you’ll feel once you’ve cleaned the wound and put some salve on it.”
The sheriff pulled a twist of taffy from his vest pocket. “Oh, son, before you go to washing those cuts, you might want to put a chew of this in your mouth. It’ll give you something to bite down on when the doctoring hurts.”
Taking the candy, True added, “I might could use some of this. Not that I can’t take a little hurting without making a fuss, but I do like taffy.”
True stood slowly. “I reckon I might as well get to it.” As she walked past the sheriff, she looked at him closely. “You ain’t gonna tell anyone you think I’m a girl, are you, ‘cause I didn’t tell you if’n I was or not?”
Spider stared up at the sky for a long moment. “Tell you what, I won’t tell a soul if you’ll tell me who your parents are.”
True’s mouth opened, then stopped as if weighing the price of the truth. “Would you stop pestering me if I told you Jennie Munday was my mother?”
“I might,” Spider watched her closely. “And your father?”
“Austin McCormick, of course.”
Spider fought the urge to laugh outright. “Of course,” he added to the bold lie, but a tiny seed of doubt tumbled across his mind and planted an idea.
Chapter 20
Austin rode along the crude road leading to Colton Barkley’s property. He watched for signs where the wagon had turned around. There he knew he’d find any clues to Colton’s shooting.
As he tried to force himself to concentrate on the tracks, Austin’s mind kept drifting back to before dawn, when Jennie came to his bed. He wished he could somehow freeze memory and bottle it so that he could take out each moment and live it fully once again.
Jennie would become a memory, just like all other people he’d met, but she’d always have a special place. In her arms he’d felt at peace. He had a feeling that in the years to come he’d return to her in his dreams, reliving their night together until the pages of his memory were shredded with wear.
Barkley’s shooting was the start of the trouble, a
nd Austin knew he might never have the time to spend another night alone with her. But he’d had one night, and that was more than he’d thought existed.
The tracks in the road suddenly changed, and he realized he’d reached the place where Colton had been shot. Dismounting, Austin read the markings as easily as a conductor reads a timetable. Colton’s blood. Deep cuts where the wagon had been turned sharply. Two horses, heavy with riders, following the tracks back toward town.
The wind seemed to shift slightly, and Austin felt that familiar sense warning him. He brushed his fingers over the handle of his Colt and studied the rock formation to the left of the road.
Whoever had ambushed Colton was long gone by now, but Austin could still feel something, or someone, near.
Instinct pushed him into action. He raised his gun and pointed straight toward the pile of boulders. “Game’s up!” he yelled. “Come out with your hands flying.”
Silence followed, but Austin didn’t move. If he were wrong and no one hid behind the rocks, then he’d made a fool of himself to an empty house.
“Don’t shoot!” someone yelled in a voice too high to be a man’s and too low to be a woman’s. “I’m not armed.”
Austin pointed toward where the voice was coming from and waited. Slowly a youth unfolded from the rocks. He was taller than most men but about half the width. His clothes hung on him like old Glory on a wet flagpole. As he moved over the uneven ground, his arms and legs seemed cursed with a few extra joints, making him look like a string puppet.
“I ain’t doin’ nothing wrong.” The boy never removed his stare from Austin’s gun. “Honest, Marshal. I was just scouting around. Mr. Barkley didn’t come home last night, so my pa told me to ride out this mornin’ and look for him. I come upon the blood in the road, and a blind Comanche could have figured out somethin’ bad must have happened.”
“Why’d you hide in the rocks?” Austin replaced his Colt.
“I heard you coming, and for all I knew you was one of the bushwackers coming back.”
Austin studied the boy carefully. He was fifteen, maybe sixteen, and judging from his dark skin and black eyes, half or more of his ancestors were Indian. “Step on out here and tell me your name.”