Grace skated toward them and came to an abrupt stop inches from Micah’s foot. “Let me help you up.” She held out a hand.
“I don’t know...” Micah rolled over onto his hands and knees and tried to get one foot under him. The foot shot out like greased lightning, and he landed face and belly down on the frozen pond.
“I’ll take your help.” Justice still sat where he fell, and he looked up at Grace with a helpless, hopeful grin.
“I believe she offered to help me first.” Micah couldn’t believe his own words. What was wrong with him? Instead of further self-examination, he reached up to Grace. “Help?” He put a pathetic note in his voice that far outdid Justice’s plea, to the amusement of everyone around them.
Grace grasped his hand, gripped his elbow and took a solid stance, allowing him to lean into her as he stood. And he actually did stand. Holding both of his hands, she skated backward, pulling him along in spite of his wobbling ankles and the bend of his torso. Remarkable woman. She was actually holding him up. Her strength no doubt came from working on her parents’ ranch. He’d grown up thinking women should be weak and helpless. Grace belied all of that. And he couldn’t admire her more.
“Try not to bend forward that way.” She breezed along, but not too fast. “Hold your shoulders back.”
“I’ll try.”
Micah straightened and almost fell over backward. Grace pulled him upright and steadied him without so much as a hitch in her own stability.
Beyond her, he could see Justice with Garrick and Rosamond Wakefield on either side of him holding him upright and giving instructions. Nolan skated over and spoke to them, and the Wakefields led the bodyguard back to the side of the rink.
Micah had his own struggles to deal with at this moment, but in the back of his mind, he found the banker’s actions petty. What harm could come to him and his sister with well over thirty people skating around them, not to mention many well-armed local residents not a block away doing their Saturday shopping?
“Having fun?” Grace smiled—the most relaxed look he’d seen on her face in months—as she continued to skate backward and pull him along.
“Yes. Oops!” He jerked back and forth and, once again, she steadied him.
“Uh-oh.” Grace brought the two of them to a stop and focused beyond Micah toward Main Street.
Carefully turning his head so as not to throw them both off balance, he followed her gaze. Seamus O’Brien, Rand’s brother-in-law and the Northams’ ranch foreman, stood at the edge of the rink talking with Nate Northam. The expressions on both men’s faces warned of trouble.
Grace tugged Micah over to them. “What’s happened?”
Seamus swept off his hat. “Ma’am, somebody just butchered six Northam steers. From the look of it, they hauled away some meat, but most were just killed outright and left to rot.”
* * *
Grace knew it was her fault. If she’d been out looking for the outlaws instead of wasting time ice-skating, she could have prevented the loss.
“We’ll get them, Nate.” She reached out to grip her friend’s shoulder, only to hear an “Oof” and a thump beside her. “Oh! Rev, I’m so sorry.” Couldn’t she do anything right? She’d thoughtlessly let go of him, and now the poor man was backside down on the ice. His sheepish grimace would have been comical if more serious matters didn’t need tending. “Here, let me help you.”
He waved her away. “Thanks, but I think I’ll just take these off before I stand.” He unclamped the skates and then accepted her help up. “Nate, can you save any of the meat from those steers?”
Nate shook his head. “Not usually. We can probably save the hides for leather.” He beckoned to his wife. “Susanna, why don’t you take Lizzie and Natty into the hotel for some cocoa.”
A fairly new skater, Susanna nonetheless managed the few yards to the edge of the rink, holding her children by their hands. Grace noticed the double-bladed skates the little ones wore, probably made by Bert, the Northams’ blacksmith. Maybe the Rev could use a pair of those until he learned to get his balance on the ice. But this was hardly the time for such a frivolous notion.
“Let’s ride out to see what we can see.” She included the Rev in her comment. “No use gathering the whole posse until we have some idea of where they went.”
“Good idea.”
Nate stepped away to speak privately to Susanna. She nodded solemnly and stood on tiptoe to kiss him before leading the children to the hotel’s back entrance. “They’re going to take a room here until this mess is over.”
“I’ll tell the Suttons.” The Rev walked around the rink to talk to his guests.
Near enough to hear whatever the Rev said, Nolan Means became agitated. He gripped Joel Sutton’s shoulder. “You and Miss Sutton are moving into my house until this is over.” He sent an accusing glare in Grace’s direction. “With our two bodyguards, you’ll be safe from those murderers.”
“If you think that’s best, you have my blessing.” The Rev seemed awfully willing to give up Miss Sutton’s company, at least from where Grace stood. While the others got ready to leave, he walked back to Grace. “I can be ready to go with you in less than a half hour. Will that be soon enough?”
“Yep. I’ll tell the sheriff. You go to the livery stable and get our horses saddled.”
“Will do.”
He walked several steps away and passed Dub Gleason and his friends, who’d been lazing around the ice-skating pond but not joining in the fun. Grace had grown up with these fellas, and they were the ones who had begun to torment her once she got taller than they were. They liked to sit around town smoking and jawing and not doing a lick of work. And torment her. Every time she saw them, she cringed. Why couldn’t she get past such painful memories?
“Hey, Reverend,” Dub, the leader, called out in his lazy, nasally voice. “You takin’ orders from that skinny, gawky female deputy?”
The others laughed derisively. Never before had they made such remarks when someone else could hear them. Why, oh, why did their cruelty have to rear its ugly head in front of the Rev?
Her heart aching and her face burning with shame, Grace strode away before she said or did something they would all regret.
* * *
Since dedicating his life to the Lord, Micah hadn’t often lost his temper, one of the worst of his boyhood faults. But the tensions of the day—both the challenge of ice-skating and the news of the butchered steers—had him on edge. So when Dub insulted Grace, he spun around without thinking and grabbed the front of the young man’s shirt and lifted him to his feet.
“Don’t you ever, ever let me hear you insult Miss Eberly like that again.” He shoved Dub back down. “Do you understand?”
All four of the laggards gaped at him.
“We didn’t mean no harm, Reverend,” one of the others said, and the rest chimed in their agreement.
“No harm?” Micah stood over the man. “Don’t you ever think about how your words and actions do plenty of harm to others?” He should walk away right now, but something kept him rooted to the spot. He’d never preached a fire-and-brimstone sermon, but maybe it was about time. “Dub, you are a lazy bum. While your father works his fingers to the bone to run his ranch, you take his money and then sit around town with these other bums. I know you all ride over to Del Norte to drink and gamble. If you want to know where that can lead you, ask Rand Northam. He ended up in a gunfight and killed Cole Landon, and now Cole’s cousin is trying to take revenge on this whole town.” Maybe not the whole town, but enough of the most industrious citizens to make big trouble for everyone if all of them were murdered.
The other boys looked at Dub, maybe to see how he was reacting so they could copy him. To his credit, Dub did look somewhat abashed. “I remember when that happened.”
“And what are you doi
ng to help? Are you going to sit in your usual spot on the boardwalk outside Mrs. Winsted’s mercantile and make jokes about all the people they kill? Where were you when Hardison tried to rob the bank? I’ll tell you where Grace Eberly was. She walked into that bank and took Hardison and Smith down and saved everyone from losing their hard-earned money, including all of your parents. Now she’s working hard to keep this town safe, including your sorry selves. If any of you had even an ounce of courage, it still wouldn’t match the courage that fine woman possesses.”
Dub stared down at his feet. “I ain’t never said she wasn’t brave.”
“She’s just so...so tall,” said Earl, who stood about five feet four. “Ain’t natural for a woman to be so tall.”
“Ain’t natural for a man to be as ugly as you.” Dub slapped his friend on the shoulder.
The others laughed, and Micah had a hard time not joining in. Seeing Dub’s possible repentance had cooled his anger. Now to try to set them on a better course.
“So, answer me. What are you boys going to do to protect your town?”
They shrugged and looked around at each other. So much for the effects of his spontaneous sermon.
“Well, at least stay out of the way while good people try to do it.” He took a step toward the livery stable, then turned back. “And the next time you see Miss Eberly, you tip your hat and smile like you mean it.”
When a quartet of “yessirs” followed him up Main Street, Micah’s heart welled up with an emotion so strong, he couldn’t even name it. All he could do was pray that God’s grace was at work in the hearts of those young men.
* * *
Grace dismounted and joined Rand and Nate Northam in trying to sort out the many cattle and horse hoofprints in the snow around the bloody steer carcasses a half mile from the main Four Stones Ranch house. In the slushy, half-thawed snow and mud, they couldn’t tell one print from another or which way the culprits had fled. Too bad the sheriff or Justice Gareau weren’t here. Grace hadn’t learned all that much about tracking other than looking for the obvious, so she could use the help of more experienced lawmen. But with the sheriff shot just last Monday and Justice under strict orders from Nolan, she’d have to rely on her own instincts.
Several yards away, the Rev squatted close to the ground and searched for clues, too. Grace still felt the sting of her friend being taunted just because he was helping her chase the killers. After they’d met up at the livery stable to ride out here, he’d been his usual pleasant self, almost jovial in his attempts to cheer her up. Or so it seemed to her. But she had more important things—at least more immediate things to worry about than her own hurt feelings.
After a good half hour of studying the area and finding nothing, she gave up. “They must have wrapped that flank of beef they stole real good. There’s not even a trail of blood to follow.”
Rand heaved out a big sigh. “Let’s get back up to the big house and have some coffee. Then maybe we can figure out what to do.” He waved to Nate and the two cowboys, Wes and Sam, who’d been searching with them. “Let’s go.”
“It seems strange that they’re all over the place,” the Rev said as they rode toward the house. “East of town, north of town, then west and now south. Doesn’t give us much in the way of clues as to where they might be hiding.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Grace said. “We also don’t know how many of them there are so we can be sure to outnumber them. But then, if the entire posse goes in one direction, they can go another way or even scatter. If we divide up, they might pick us off, just like they did the sheriff.”
The others grunted or voiced their agreement, to a man sounding as discouraged as Grace felt.
They rode into the barnyard to an eerie silence. Grace looked at Rand to see if she was imagining things.
His eyes narrowed as he searched the property. “Something’s not right.”
“There!” Nate jumped from his horse and ran toward the back porch. “Seamus!”
Grace and the others followed suit, hurrying across the long-harvested kitchen garden toward Rand’s brother-in-law, who lay facedown below the bottom step.
Nate rolled him over, and he groaned. A bloody hole marked the spot on the lower left side of his chest where a bullet had struck him down. His rifle lay several yards away.
“Thank the Lord he’s alive.” The Rev knelt on Seamus’s other side and brushed dirt from his forehead and cheeks. “Let’s take him inside.”
“Marybeth!” Rand dashed up the back steps.
Grace followed right behind him. Of course the outlaws had to try to kill Seamus. He was Marybeth’s brother and would do anything to protect her.
They charged into the kitchen, finding nothing, nobody. Only the wail of a child broke the silence.
“Randy!” Rand and Grace dashed through the hall into the main parlor. “Mother!”
Charlotte Northam sat bound to a ladder-back chair, a cloth tied over her mouth. On her lap sat two-year-old Randy, who wailed as he tried to tug away the cloth. At the sight of his pa, he increased his screams and lunged for Rand, who caught him before he could hit the floor.
Grace released Charlotte’s gag and untied her. “What happened?” As if she didn’t know.
“They shot Seamus.” Charlotte shook violently, but anger, not fear, burned in her eyes. “They took Marybeth. I don’t know where they were going.” Now she collapsed against Grace and sobbed bitterly. “Oh, Rand, I’m so sorry we couldn’t keep her safe. If only your father were here.”
Clutching his son, Rand looked lost, hopeless. “I shouldn’t have left her here. Seamus said he could protect Marybeth by himself for the short time we’d be gone, but we forgot Hardison had it in for him, too. He was with me when I killed Hardison’s kin.”
Grace looked down at the tea towel they’d used to gag Charlotte. “Are you hurt, Charlotte? There’s blood here.” She held up the embroidered linen towel.
“I don’t think so.” Charlotte sniffed back another sob. “That horrid Deke Smith tried to strangle Fluffy, and she bit him hard. He grabbed the tea towel to stop the bleeding.” She wiped a sleeve across her lips and shuddered. “And to think he put it over my mouth.”
Grace glanced around the room, looking for the gray cat. The poor critter was probably hiding someplace in this big house after its ordeal.
“We have to find Marybeth.” Rand handed Randy back to Charlotte. “Son, you stay with Gramma. Mother, will you be all right? We’ll leave Wes and Sam here with you.”
She nodded. “I don’t think they’ll return. They have what they want.” She began to cry again. “What kind of beasts would try to harm a young woman in her condition?”
Grace gripped her shoulders. “Charlotte, Randy needs his grandma to be strong. Can you do that?”
“She’s going into town.” Nate entered the parlor, with the Rev right behind him. “Mother, you and Randy will stay at the hotel with Susanna and the children. I told Wes to get the buggy ready. And we’re taking Seamus to Doc.”
“Good.” Grace felt a surge of strength and determination well up inside her. “We’ll gather the posse and figure out what to do.”
Across the room, she saw the Rev’s encouraging smile and nod, and her heart warmed. They could do this. They could save Marybeth. Please, Lord, help us save Marybeth.
* * *
Seamus stopped bleeding, much to everyone’s relief. Micah and Sam, a ranch hand, bundled the foreman up in blankets and laid him in a wagon. Sam drove him to town, and Micah stayed behind to help the Northams pack for their move. In addition to making sure Mrs. Northam and little Randy had sufficient clothes, which Grace helped them to assemble, the brothers needed to pack food and blankets for camping out in the winter wilderness. By late afternoon, they headed toward Esperanza. Even though nightfall would soon be upon
them, Rand was desperate to begin the search for his wife. Grace had already sent Wes ahead to warn the other deputized men to get ready.
Micah couldn’t fault Rand for his sense of urgency. He had his own dilemma. Should he cancel church services tomorrow morning and go with the posse, or should he hold services as usual so the congregation could gather to pray? After Mrs. Northam was settled at the hotel, they went to Sheriff Lawson’s house for his advice.
The news of the shooting and abduction almost brought the dedicated lawman out of his sickbed. But swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to put his feet on the floor brought on a painful reminder of his injury. He grabbed his wounded chest and lay back down with a groan. When he recovered, he addressed the group around his bed.
“You won’t solve anything by going off half-cocked at night in the middle of winter. You’ll just cause more problems by getting lost or frozen to death.” He coughed and groaned again, his weariness evident. “Rand, as hard as it is for you, you need to wait until morning. Then you and Nate take Andy and Frank and search south and west of Four Stones. That’s the area you know best. It’s also the most logical place for them to hole up.
“Rafael, you and your vaqueros take the area extending north from your ranch. Reverend, you go ahead and have services. Then get me ten more men to deputize from the congregation. You and Grace can figure out how to divide them up and how you’ll cover the western part of the county. We won’t worry about looking east. There’s too many occupied ranches between here and Alamosa for them to avoid being seen.” After giving them a few practical suggestions on what to look for, the sheriff leaned back against the headboard, clearly exhausted from his long speech. “Be careful, men.” He gave Grace a curt nod. “Be careful.”
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