Satisfied that they wouldn’t be running into danger half-cocked, Peter snuck around to the right side of the boulder and began to dash between rocks, slowly making his way toward where the riflemen were supposed to be hiding. He made sure to tread silently, suddenly thankful for all of the hunting lessons he’d been given while growing up.
He found the first rifleman hiding at the top of the crags, the man lying flat on his stomach with his eyes gazing through the scope of his gun. It took only one blow to the back of the head to knock him unconscious. Peter took the man’s gun and tossed it over the crags into the hole below.
Peter repeated his tactic for each of the four riflemen, though he messed up with the third gunman by slipping on a pebble as he was sneaking toward the unaware shooter. The gunman immediately leapt to his feet and tried to round his gun on Peter, but a quick smack to the side of the head with the butt of his rifle put an end to that confrontation.
A shot whizzed past him, forcing him to duck down. He raised his gun and fired a shot toward the bandit running up the hill toward him. Slumping forward, the bandit fell to the ground and didn’t move. Spinning the chamber of his revolver with his left hand, he pulled back the hammer and fired two shots in rapid succession toward the next two men that suddenly appeared to his right.
A pain-filled scream froze his blood. He could hear fewer and fewer gunshots, and they were overwhelmingly coming from his men. He darted out of his hiding spot and raced out, firing shots each time one of the bandits came in range.
He didn’t shoot to kill, only to disarm. Each shot was aimed at the hands of the robbers, their pained shouts echoing through the air as they dropped their weapons to cradle their now injured extremities. None attempted to surrender, so Peter couldn’t afford to let his guard down.
Together with Chris and his comrades, they managed to disarm and capture a large number of the bandits. Even with having been outnumbered, Peter soon found himself staring at a group of tied-up men. He walked past each one, counting slowly. “...thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. We are missing one.”
“How truly unfortunate for you,” came a voice from behind Peter. “You should have been more careful with your count.”
Peter immediately swung in place, his hand going for his gun. The clicking of the man’s revolver as he pulled back the hammer caused Peter to stop moving, slowly raising his hands in the air. “Let’s not be foolish. You are outnumbered and outgunned.”
“I’m not going to jail, Sheriff. We’ve had it with your attitude. Plenty of people want you gone, and when people find out I’m the one that did you in, my name will live on in infamy. My old lady will even get a pretty penny to raise my kids with after I’m gone. Thanks for making it all so easy for me,” the man said with another hearty cackle, his finger moving to pull the trigger.
With the gun centered the way it was, the shot would be headed right for his head had the man gotten the chance to pull the trigger. Instead, Peter heard two distinct screams, the sound echoing in his ears. The sound seemed to disorient the gunman for just a moment, a blur running past Peter registering in the side of his vision.
Darwin had pushed past Peter, slamming into the side of the gunman with enough force to knock the man over. The man let out a deep grunt as he fell, his gun skittering across the rocks to fall over the edge. Peter watched as Darwin began to slam his fists repeatedly into the gunman’s face, blood spurting from his nose.
Chapter 13
Despite how Melanie had grown to feel about Peter, the sight of someone pointing a gun at him sent feelings of horror racing through her. It had caused her to scream, the sound piercing through the air. She heard a scream come from behind her as well, the shock of it causing her own to be cut off prematurely.
She’d felt the strong compulsion to move forward. Even as her heart hammered in her chest and her mind screamed for her to run, she’d found herself moving out from behind the boulder and trying to run toward him.
Darwin was right beside her, and she reached her hand out hastily to grab his arm. She had to summon every last bit of strength to keep him from immediately wrenching himself free from her grasp, and she grew fearful of the look of rage that was in his eyes when he turned to face her.
Melanie watched Darwin pry himself out of her grip and race toward Peter, knocking the gunman over before she had the chance to register what had just happened. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, watching Darwin as he angrily lashed out at the man that had nearly taken Sheriff Matherson’s life.
She had never before seen the level of sheer rage that Darwin was displaying. She was struck by how attached to the grizzled old sheriff the youth seemed to be, and she couldn’t understand why. He was so unpolished and blunt, and the passiveness with which he acted toward her had roused her indignation every time she saw him.
Yet his words from earlier were still echoing in her mind, the only thing certain through the faint haze that currently clouded her thoughts. She had hit her head a lot harder than she’d originally thought; she was still able to feel the faint trickle of blood coming from the back of her head.
“Shouldn’t someone stop Darwin?” Melanie called out to the various men assembled. It seemed strange to her that no one was showing a lot of concern about Darwin beating a man half to death before their very eyes. “He might kill that man!”
Peter rushed forward, pulling Darwin off the man and shaking him by the shoulders. “Darwin, that’s enough! You need to listen to me!” Peter grabbed a lasso from one of the nearby men and tied up the final gunman while two of the other deputies held Darwin in place.
Darwin’s chest was heaving, his hands trembling and still covered in blood. Peter clapped the boy gently on his shoulders. Darwin looked up, taking a deep lungful of air. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. I saw him point the gun at you, and I just sort of lost myself.”
“You did a wonderful thing for me today, son. I can’t claim I would have acted any differently. This man might be injured, but his injuries won’t be life-threatening. Hopefully, this incident will help to rehabilitate him along with a nice long stay in jail,” Peter said, smiling at Darwin gently. “You did me real proud.”
Melanie watched the exchange between the two with misty eyes. All she wanted in that moment was her bed, the dull throbbing that was starting to grow in her temple making every second seem to drag on for an eternity.
It took a little longer for Peter to calm Darwin down than she’d have thought, but once the boy’s breathing returned to normal, he’d been silently pushed toward Melanie by the sheriff. There was so much Melanie wanted to say to him, but Peter turned away from her without so much as another word.
“Mr. Brough! If I could have a word with you, please,” Peter called out, gesturing with his hand. Melanie briefly turned her gaze from Darwin and glanced in the direction Peter’s eyes were centered on.
John slowly strode over from where he’d been helping load the prisoners into the two wagons that they’d brought with them, the men that were still conscious hurling a series of insults his way. Some of the names they used caused Melanie to blush bright red.
“What do you need, Sheriff? We’ve just about got everything taken care of here. Did you want me to drive one of the wagons back to the jail? I brought Daisy Mae, by the way. She jumped on at the jailhouse and wouldn’t get out.” John’s forehead gleamed with sweat from the ordeal, a patch of blood on his left sleeve quickly drawing Melanie’s attention.
“Oh, John, you didn’t get hit, did you?” Melanie inquired, stepping forward and quickly examining his arm.
“It only grazed me,” John replied dismissively, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the sizable gash that the bullet had made as it slid across his flesh. “I just tend to bleed a lot when I get cut.”
“If you say so,” Melanie replied softly, the look on John’s face leaving no room for argument. She didn’t have it in her to push the issue too much anyway.
“John, can you mak
e sure that Melanie and Darwin find their way safely back to town? They can ride with you on the front of the wagon,” said Peter, who let out a shrill whistle shortly afterward. Immediately, Melanie heard a deep bark that echoed across the rocky crag. A furry blur shot past Melanie a moment later, materializing before her eyes in the form of a massive dog that could have been mistaken for a small pony. It had sleek brown fur and a wide black nose that sniffed excitedly at the air.
“Daisy Mae, I want you to guard the wagon. Comfort the boy and the lady. You are far better at that than I am,” Peter admitted, walking away to leave Melanie and Darwin in the company of the coffee-colored dog and John.
“Come along, you two. I don’t think our sheriff is in much of a mood to argue. Chin up, Darwin. Had you not come today, we’d be burying the sheriff. That makes you a hero,” Melanie said soothingly, hugging the boy tightly in her arms.
He felt so skinny and small, his constant shivering showing her just how shaken up he was by everything that had happened. She helped Darwin climb to his feet, slowly shepherding him over to where John was waiting with the wagon.
Melanie coaxed Darwin into climbing up first, watching as Peter’s large mutt bounded up next to him. She sniffled at the boy’s hand and licked it repeatedly until it was covered in slobber. She rested her head on his leg, her big eyes gazing up at him lovingly. He reached out and petted the top of her nose lightly, a weak smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
The ride that they took back into town was relatively uneventful by comparison, John doing his best to crack jokes to lighten the mood that had descended on the group riding in the wagon. “So, a man is walking down the road when he sees a three-legged chicken run by. Now the chicken is running really fast, mind you, and the man decides that he wants to know where this chicken came from. So, he follows it home and finds the farmer and asks him, ‘Are you the man who owns these chickens?’ The farmer says yes, so the man asks him how come they have three legs. Farmer says that he thought it would be useful to breed them with a third leg so there would be three legs to share at the dinner table in case he and the wife had company over. The man replies, ‘That’s fair. So how do they taste?’ and the farmer replies, ‘No idea, never caught one.’ “
Melanie shook her head, rolling her eyes and resting her cheek on her hand, gazing out at the scenery around them as they passed by. She would have never dreamed when she woke up that morning that she would be involved in something like this. The fact that she had nearly been on the receiving end of a bullet didn’t exactly have her in the highest of spirits.
“Don’t let his words sting you too much, Melanie. You were just doing your job and keeping an eye on Darwin. The sheriff may be moody about it now, but he’ll come around, you’ll see. Just give him some time. He seems like a stickler at times, but that’s only skin deep,” John said, offering her a gentle smile.
“How well do you know Peter?” Melanie inquired, figuring this was a good enough time to ask. It was going to be a bit of a ride back to town, and she didn’t want to spend it in silence.
“I have known him for roughly five years now. That was how long ago it was that Sheriff Norton, Peter’s predecessor, brought him to town. You should have seen him when he first showed up. The man was constantly picking fights with people, and I can’t tell you how many times Michael had to go around and apologize to various townspeople for Peter’s actions,” John said, chuckling as he reminisced.
Melanie shook her head in wonder. That sounded like a completely different person from the Peter Matherson that she knew. But she didn’t really know him, did she? What she knew about him could be numbered on a single hand, and none of it was that positive in her opinion. The only thing that confused her was that he seemed to get along with the other townspeople so well now. “What happened to Mr. Norton?”
“Michael passed away a little more than two years ago,” John said sadly, his eyes suddenly looking downcast. “He had grown to be a part of the town. Hard not to do when you are the sheriff for over ten years. He was everything that a town needed. He was kind to the kids and looked out for them like a father. He ensured his neighbors were fed and well taken care of, even at cost to himself. You don’t find many men like Michael Norton, but I believe that Peter is doing his best to try to live up to that. They are massive shoes to fill, let me tell you, so he probably spends a lot of his time stressed out because he doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough.”
Could that be what it was? That he was so preoccupied with trying to uphold the responsibilities of his job that it was overburdening him and making him short-tempered? It seemed like too convenient of an excuse, but she couldn’t rule out the possibility either. Even if that is the reason, he can’t just treat people badly because he’s stressed. He’s not the only person in the world with problems.
“I need to get back to the school. Iris is probably wondering where I am, and I left her with all of the other kids to look after,” Melanie began, gasping as she realized that she had forgotten all about classes in the commotion.
“Don’t you worry about that. Iris has been handling those kids single-handedly for years now. She is more than capable of dealing with the entire class load on her own. Sheriff told me to take you back home, so home is where we are going. He didn’t look like he was in the mood to argue, and I certainly wasn’t going to risk his wrath by refusing,” John said with a toothy grin.
Melanie didn’t have the energy to argue with him. She would have to apologize to Iris personally the next time she saw her but she figured her friend would understand once she heard about everything that had transpired. But something was still nagging in the back of her mind. Darwin had mentioned that the bandits weren’t who they thought they were. That had given her an idea. The leader of this group must be in Santa Fe. That was why they all were hiding outside the city limits.
He probably wouldn’t want her help, but Melanie decided that she was going to start doing some investigating of her own. There was a plot underfoot, and there was no chance that Melanie was just going to let people do as they pleased. She might not be the strongest, but brains would always triumph over sheer brawn.
Chapter 14
It was well past sundown when Peter and the rest of his posse had finished rounding up all of the robbers and getting them in their own jail cells. Peter had stood on the front steps of the jail house for ten minutes counting out money to divide amongst the men who’d come to volunteer. It was their share of the reward he had promised for assistance. He thanked each man one at a time until he was left holding the last share. It belonged to John, and despite his exhaustion, Peter figured he might as well stop by the Brough’s homestead to give it to him.
Most of the house was dark when he rode up to it, his lantern shining in his right hand. He could see a faint glow coming from the front sitting room, so at least one person was still awake. He had a feeling that once he stepped through the doorway he was going to be bombarded with questions, and he didn’t know if he had the energy to answer them all. He promised himself that he would be patient and do his best not to lose his temper or sound short, least of all with Melanie. Still, facing her after what he’d admitted to her earlier was going to be harder than he’d like to acknowledge.
He pushed open the front door, greeted by the distinct bark of Daisy Mae as she trotted up to greet him. The sandy canine let out another softer bark when he reached out and ran his hand along the top of her head, scratching behind her ear. “Hi there, Daisy Mae. Did you protect everybody like I asked you to?”
Daisy Mae barked as if in response, her head bobbing up and down like she was nodding. Peter chuckled and ran his hand along her back, giving the chubby canine a good rubdown before he stood up and made his way further into the living room. There, he found Melanie, John, and Iris sitting around the fire waiting for him. John was the first one to greet him. “I figured it was you when Daisy Mae started looking so excited.”
“She can sense my presence, it
seems,” Peter agreed wearily, sinking into the only available armchair and letting out a soft grunt as Daisy Mae immediately put her paws on his lap. “Oof, it is good to see you too, Daisy Mae.”
“I can only imagine how exhausted you are Peter, so we’ll do our best not to keep you here too long. We just have a couple of questions, and then you can be on your way. The rest can wait until you’ve had a chance to get some rest. You look dead on your feet,” Iris said gently, rocking in the wooden rocking chair she sat in. “Do you have it in you to eat something?”
“I definitely won’t refuse some grub after today. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten,” he half-lied, watching John get up and head into the kitchen. “We found out a lot of information today, yet I feel like I’m left with more questions than answers.”
“What do you mean?” Melanie asked, handing him a cup that was steaming. When he brought it to his lips, he was pleased to find that it was coffee, grateful for the pick-me-up. The coffee would help him stay awake long enough to do what needed doing. “Did you manage to find out anything about the robberies?”
A Bride to Melt the Sheriff’s Iron Heart Page 7