Scarlet Sunset, Silver Nights

by Leigh Greenwood

  “Still…”

  “We can worry about that later,” Pamela said, gently interrupting. “Right now all I’m worried about is getting you well again.”

  “I could use a drink,” the marshall announced. “I didn’t get my beer yesterday.”

  “Give him anything he wants,” Pamela told Gaddy and dismissed them both from her mind. “It seems this is where we started,” she said to Slade as she started to wrap the clean bandages around his chest.

  “I never could seem to keep out of trouble.”

  “I can handle trouble, but do you always have to get in the way of a bullet?”

  “It’s the only way I can keep you kneeling at my feet.”

  “I’m not kneeling, Slade Morgan. And even if I were, I wouldn’t be kneeling to you. This is going to hurt.”

  “I didn’t expect it would feel good.”

  “I just wanted to warn you. If you were to show any sign of pain, I doubt you could live with yourself.”

  “I’d howl like a baby if it was the only way I could keep you.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Pamela said, ducking her head to hide a smile of happiness. “I don’t want Gaddy bounding in here asking if I’ve taken a knife to you. I can stand your great stone face a little longer.”

  “Can you stand watching me on trial for murder?”

  Cold fear paralyzed Pamela. “What do you mean?”

  “If I’m going to stay here, I have to go back to Brazos. I can’t raise a family with that hanging over us all the time.”

  “I know.” And she did. She had always known, deep down, that he would someday have to go back to Texas.

  “You’re not going to argue with me?”

  “Would it do any good?”

  He shook his head.

  “That’s what I thought. But I am going to make some conditions.”

  Slade’s eyes narrowed.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “No.”

  “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. I want to go as your wife, but I’ll go any way I have to.”

  “Pamela, this is absurd. There’s no reason …”

  “But first we’re going to hire a couple of Pinkertons. If anyone in that town knows or saw anything, they’ll find it out. They’ll also protect you when we get there. Then I’m going to ask Frederick and Amanda to help me find the best lawyer on the east coast. I want them to realize they’re not going to railroad you into anything.”

  “And if I don’t agree?”

  “I’ll let you bleed a little more. Pretty soon you won’t have enough strength to object to anything.”

  Slade stared at her, his eyes dark and unreadable.

  “I mean it Slade. I won’t be shut out of your life ever again. I want to know when you’re hurt. I want to know when you’re afraid. I want to know when you need help. And I want you to want to tell me.”

  “Pamela, I can’t… I’m not…”

  “I know it won’t come easily.” She smiled fondly. “You’ll probably have to write me notes in the beginning, but it’ll come. All you need is practice. And we can start by going to Brazos together.”

  “You really mean that?”

  “I mean to be by your side for the rest of your life, Slade Morgan. I certainly don’t intend to make an exception for a rotten little town like Brazos, Texas.”

  “Come sit here,” Slade said, patting the seat next to him.

  It was early evening. They had finished dinner and were sitting on the porch watching the stars come out.

  “What about your side?”

  “If you sit down real easy, I think I can manage to get an arm around you.”

  “No, you don’t. I won’t have you breaking your wound open again. Suppose I put my arms around you instead?”

  But when Pamela’s arms held him only feather-tight, Slade slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. There was an immediate stab of pain, but he figured it was worth it. He tried to bend forward to kiss her, but that proved too much. The pain was excruciating. He inhaled slowly and deeply and relaxed against the seat.

  “Aren’t you going to talk about the moon?” Pamela asked, a mischievous smile curving her lips. “There must be something we haven’t covered yet.”

  “Do you dare jest about the moon, woman?” Slade said with mock severity. “The night has many offspring, and not all of them are as kind as the moon.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Of course. You did say you wanted to be treated roughly, didn’t you?”

  “I knew I’d regret that. Now I’ll probably be forced to bear dozens of children, have no say in running the ranch, and beg on my knees before you’ll allow me a new dress.”

  “Do you want lots of children?” Slade asked, suddenly serious.

  “Not lots, but at least one or two. What about you?”

  “I don’t really care as long as I have you.”

  “You don’t think I would ever leave, do you?”

  “It all seems too perfect. How often does a man get everything he ever wanted? More than he ever dreamed of?” he added giving Pamela’s shoulders a quick hug.

  “I won’t have you getting maudlin, Slade Morgan. Not when I don’t have nearly everything I want.”

  “And what might that be, Miss White?”

  “First, I want to change my name to Mrs. Morgan.”

  “I think I can manage that.”

  Then I want at least two boys, and a daughter,” she added.

  “I thought you only wanted one or two.”

  “I changed my mind. I also need someone to help me cook, someone else for the cleaning—I can’t take care of you and the babies if I have to do everything else—and I think we ought to look around for some girl for Gaddy.”

  Slade couldn’t see the glint of mischief in her eye, but he could hear it in her voice.

  “Of course I don’t have nearly enough clothes, I want a vacation home in Newport, and I want to spend every winter in New Orleans. Dad never had enough money—for some reason those disgusting cows seem particularly hard to turn into cash—but you’ve got all that lovely money sitting in the bank.”

  “Something tells me I ought to use it to buy out the other ranchers while I still have something left,” he answered.

  Then I want to redecorate the house. I saw this perfectly lovely place in Philadelphia one time. I want the ranch house to look just like it After that I…”

  Slade kissed her into silence. His side reminded him that it was far from well, but Slade persevered. Now was no time to start admitting to pain.

  “I want your kiss more than anything else,” Pamela said. “And just think,” she murmured, “it won’t cost a cent.”

  “It’ll cost me everything I own,” Slade answered, “but I’ll willingly pay.”

  He then proceeded to make a substantial installment.

  Epilogue

  Marshall Alcott pushed open the door of the Wagon Wheel Saloon. Junie Sykes had been laid up with the influenza for two days and there was nobody to bring him his beer. He walked up to the bar, waited for his drink, and then looked around as he took his first sip. There was only one person in the saloon, a young cowboy digging into a plate of beef and beans.

  “Mind if I join you?” the marshall asked.

  “Be glad of the company,” the young fella replied through a mouthful of food. “It gets mighty lonesome on the trail. A man needs somebody to talk to besides his horse.”

  The marshall walked over and sat down. “Been traveling long?” he asked after another swallow from his glass.

  “All the way from Texas.”

  The marshall felt himself tense, but he waited until the boy had chewed his mouthful of steak and washed it down. “You ever heard of a town called Brazos?”

  “Funny you should ask that,” the cowboy said. “I just came from there. Been having themselves a mite of a fracas. Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

  “What was it about?” />
  “Seems they had a crooked sheriff and a worse judge. Brothers. Used to terrorize the place right regular until some guy planted the judge’s boys six feet under. Seems they wanted the man’s money, but he didn’t much want to give it to them.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Hell, anybody coulda told me. Everybody in town was talking about it. Anyhow, this sheriff and his brother, the judge, apparently didn’t see the handwriting on the wall. Either that or they can’t read too good. The way I heard it, they were about to pull some legal shenanigans to take a rancher’s herd away from him. Well, this judge and his brother, the sheriff, were in their office, fixing up the papers and such, and this man just walks in and shoots them. Didn’t say a word. Just drilled them. Then he declared himself sheriff, had them arrested and their bodies hanged. The whole town turned out for the funeral. Seems it was quite a celebration.”

  “What about the warrants they issued?”

  “The new sheriff appointed himself judge, too, and first thing he did was set about undoing everything those Briarcliffs had done in the last ten years. Them warrants went first.”

  “Then the man who killed those three boys isn’t wanted anymore?”

  “He’s wanted all right. Everybody in the whole town is looking high and low for him.”

  “How’s that?”

  “They want to have a fiesta the likes of which you never seen, even in Texas. Without his getting rid of those nogood boys, they never would have gotten rid of that sheriff and judge. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you? I’d sure like to tell him there’s a hero’s welcome waiting for him back there.”

  “I might have seen him,” said the marshall. “We had some fella drift in here last month. I kinda had me a notion he might be from Texas.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I wouldn’t like to say for sure. He talked about going on to California.”

  “That’s a shame. They sure would like to have him back in Brazos. After that rancher got everything cleared up, he went back to his cows. They’d probably make him sheriff.”

  “I don’t think he would care for that. He struck me as pretty much of a loner.”

  “He’s missing out on the best set-up a man could ever find.”

  “I don’t know about that. If this fella I saw was your man from Brazos, I’ve a notion he’s doing fine right where he is.”

  The marshall chuckled at some private thought. But the more he thought about it, the funnier it became. Pretty soon he was doubled up with laughter.

  “What’s so damned funny?” the cowboy asked, not entirely sure the marshall wasn’t laughing at him.

  “Nothing,” the marshall said as he struggled to his feet. “Nothing at all.” He left the saloon still chuckling.

  The young cowboy looked puzzled and scratched his head. “Probably can’t hold his liquor,” he said and turned back to his food.

  About the Author

  Leigh Greenwood is the award-winning author of over fifty books, many of which have appeared on the USA Today bestseller list. Leigh lives in Charlotte, North Carolina. Please visit his website at http://www.leigh-greenwood.com/.