by Amber Stokes
She is sleeping, right?
A sudden dread made his stomach clench hard. His hand shook as he reached out to touch her arm – but the glimpse of blood stopped him with a jolt. “What happened? Where’s Seth?”
“Takin’ care of the horses. Do ya have any bandages?” Myghal appeared to be searching the room, not meeting Joe’s fearful gaze.
“Yeah.” He rummaged through the shelves, knocking over some cans, which fell to the floor with several loud clangs. Curse his wretched hand!
Myghal had settled Sally on the only couch in the main room. After seeing her chest rise, Joe released his own breath and shoved the bandages into Myghal’s waiting hands, then set about getting a wet cloth.
“You never answered my first question,” Joe growled as he pumped the water harder than he should. He turned his head slightly, wanting to know what Myghal was doing here and why Sally was bleeding and if she was going to be all right.
“I don’t really know. I found her in the Bucket of Blood, with Rufus O’Daniel unconscious on the floor and Sally in his arms. You’ll have to ask Seth the rest.”
“What?” Joe whirled around, the rag dripping all over the wood floor.
No trace of Myghal’s usual lightheartedness flickered in his gaze. “There are some things I need to talk to ye about, but first, we should take care of the lass.”
That was his job. He should have taken care of her, should have taken her into town himself instead of being a stubborn mule of a man. Ignoring Myghal’s outstretched hand, he knelt next to Sally and gently washed her right arm, working his way down to her soft palm and her small, delicate fingers that were now cut and scraped.
“It was that O’Daniel fellow.”
Joe and Myghal both looked up at the sound of Seth’s voice. Seth closed the door but didn’t move any closer, looking almost afraid of Sally’s pale figure lying on the couch. His hair was all wet and sticking up in places, as if he had dunked his head in the horse trough. Probably had.
“I found her with him in the Bucket of Blood. O’Daniel offered me a drink, so I accepted. Then, for no reason at all, she turned and smashed the man’s glass against his head.”
Joe looked down, clenching and unclenching his fists, crushing the rag he held in the process. That hardly seemed like the full story, but at least that would explain why Sally’s one hand was all cut. His gaze moved up her arm and then back to Seth. “But why are there cuts on her arms?”
“O’Daniel fell off the stool into the table and dragged her with him. I guess the fall must have scraped her up some.”
Joe directed his next question to Myghal. “Was she unconscious when ya found her?”
“No, but she seemed ta be in shock. She fell asleep on the ride here.”
Sally, what were ya doin’ in the Bucket of Blood – and with Rufus O’Daniel, of all people? No telling what could have happened to you.
Joe was torn between shaking some sense into his wife and hugging her to his heart and never letting O’Daniel or any man near her again.
Instead, he continued to wash away the blood, relieved to discover that besides some deep cuts on her hand and a few splinters in her arms, she wasn’t too seriously hurt. Myghal, silent, handed him a bandage, and he wrapped it gently around her hand. With the last tug of the bandage as he tied it in place, Sally gave a soft moan and slowly opened her eyes.
Pushing aside the urge to berate her, he forced a small smile, which was met with one of her own, until she looked around and seemed to realize where she was.
“Myghal…?”
“Here, lass.” He stood, his light eyebrows lowered over his eyes. “Seth and I brought ye back to the ranch.”
Joe helped her to sit up and watched as she placed her bandaged hand in her lap, covering it with her other hand. “And Mr. O’Daniel…?”
Joe saw Myghal’s jaw work, and he felt his own teeth practically grind in response. What was the story with Rufus O’Daniel?
“He was still lyin’ on the floor when we left.”
Sally closed her eyes and rubbed her hurt hand. “Is he… Do you think…I killed him?”
A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by several more. Joe joined her on the couch and put his arm around her, urging her to rest her head on his shoulder.
“No, Sally, the man was just unconscious.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m certain.”
She buried her face into Joe’s shirt before he could tell whether she was relieved or disappointed at Myghal’s words.
After a moment of uncertain silence, Myghal declared, “I’ll be sleepin’ out in the barn, then, if it’s not too much trouble. We can talk more tomorrow, I’m thinkin’.” He stepped around Seth and walked outside.
The sound of the door closing must have startled Seth, for he jumped a little and shuffled farther into the room. His gaze landed on Sally and Joe, and a shadow as dark as Naomi’s grave passed over his face. When his mouth opened slightly, Joe thought for sure he was going to ask something, but no words came out. Instead, he turned and headed to his own room.
Joe glanced down at Sally’s tangled golden hair. He longed to ask her about what had happened today, to demand she tell him what was going on with Rufus O’Daniel and why she had gone to the Bucket of Blood. He wanted to punish her for being so foolish, but he held her close and tucked her head under his chin, rubbing his hand slowly up and down her arm until she fell asleep again.
Chapter 16
Rufus O’Daniel sat in his room at the hotel, his old breech-loading rifle lying across his lap. Back during the War Between the States, that gun had made him feel safe – perhaps foolishly so, but at least he was still alive when many of his fellow compatriots were not. At the age of forty-four, he felt less cocky than he used to feel with the rifle in his hands. It was enough to think of all he had survived, all he had achieved…all mocked by Sally’s constant rejections. His grip on the barrel tightened. That last humiliation in the Bucket of Blood would not go unpunished.
It was time to eliminate the competition. And if that didn’t work, he would eliminate the problem. Love wasn’t that different from war. It was time to surprise the enemy, to take the prize and claim the victory.
He’d been on the losing side once before, but not this time. It was all up to him, and he wasn’t going to accept anything less than complete and total surrender.
He slammed the door on his way out, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the hallway.
***
Harsh sunlight slowly flooded the canyon, a hint of promise in the air that had nothing to do with Myghal. This ranch didn’t belong to him, nor did any hopeful illusions. He was here to warn Joe so that the man could best know how to protect his wife. Any thoughts of staying nearby as a neighbor and friend to this couple vanished yesterday when he saw how the two of them were struggling. They didn’t need the confusion his lingering emotions might bring.
Lost in painful thoughts as he leaned against the corral, he didn’t hear Joe until the man appeared next to him, elbows resting on the top of the fence. “I’m sorry we don’t have enough room in the house for ya.”
Myghal pushed back and ran a hand through his hair, which had started to curl from going too long without a proper trim. “Don’t ye worry about it. The barn was jest fine, and besides, I’ll not be stayin’ long.”
Joe turned toward him, brow lowered. “Why did you come?” An uneasy silence followed before he added, “Not that I mind. It’s just that Sally and me – we’re not getting’ along so well, and I don’t know if we’re really up for entertaining company.”
A sharp tug at his heart pulled Myghal’s ready smile down and out of sight. “I understand. I wouldn’t ‘ave come except that Zachary Taylor told me about Rufus O’Daniel nosin’ around, askin’ about Sally. I just knew I had to warn ye and to offer help, should ya be wantin’ it.”
“We already knew he admired Sally.” Joe absently rubbed his moustache with finger and thumb as
he looked away, toward the horses in the corral. “What makes ya think it’s anything more than harmless interest?”
Myghal gripped the top rung of the fence with both hands. “There’s nothin’ harmless about the man, Joe. Ye know that. Why would he be stalkin’ her? Don’t ye remember how desperate Sally was to leave Virginia City? And now ye have brought her right back to him.”
Joe kicked the fence. “So this is all my fault? You’re blamin’ me for putting Sally at risk? If ya felt this way before, why on earth did ya let me marry her and bring her to my home?” Joe’s voice rose with each word, and at the last he pushed away from the fence and leveled a glare at Myghal.
Myghal didn’t back down, though a pinch in his chest begged that he face his feelings. “You and Sally need each other, and I’m not questionin’ that. I only wanted to be sure ye were aware of the threat.” And I wanted to see the two of ye again.
But Sally and Joe had started down a different path together, and just like when Elizabeth and David returned to Colorado, Myghal was left to forge ahead, alone. It was as if he had to relearn the lonely art of being an immigrant – of making a new life for himself in a different, initially friendless place – over and over again. Suddenly, he was weary to the very depths of his heart.
“I appreciate that, Myghal.” He could hardly tell it from the look on Joe’s face. With a shaky sigh, Joe added quietly, “If I can’t even protect her from me, how can I deal with Rufus O’Daniel? I think Sally despises me, and I don’t blame her.”
Myghal had no words of wisdom to share. He had failed at love once, and he doubted he would ever have another chance to claim it. Why did he think he could march right back into Joe and Sally’s lives and expect to be of help? A corner of his heart was stuck in a place that understood Sally’s desperate cries by the river that horrible day – a place that bled anew every time he thought of his Lydia married to another man.
Myghal gestured to the horses in the corral. “Do ya mind if I take one of yer horses out for a ride?”
The simple question and the suggestion of distance were received like an olive branch, and Joe gave a small smile in response. “Take your pick.”
Left unspoken were the words, And take your time.
***
“Is Myghal leaving?”
Sally’s expression was anxious as she peered out the window, her face silhouetted in the window’s glow and her bright blond hair like flowing sunlight over her shoulders.
“Just takin’ a ride. He’ll be back in a while.” Joe’s fingers itched to shut the curtains Naomi had made and force Sally to look at him.
“Oh.” She turned to him then, her injured hand pressed behind her back, as if she was afraid even the sight of it would upset him.
“Sally.” He took a step closer.
“Yes?” She absently rubbed her right arm, and the action brought back thoughts of the previous night. He had sat for a long time with her asleep beside him, until he finally carried her to their room and slept with her curled up against him. It was the best night’s sleep he had enjoyed in a long time – when he had simply comforted her and loved her, without excuses or judgment or fears.
“I…” Love you. The words died on his tongue before they could be spoken.
He swallowed and tried again. “I don’t need to know what happened yesterday.”
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, and her head angled to the side as she stared at him. “But…I thought you would be angry.” She brought her injured hand back in front of her, clutching it against her middle, reminding him that he was still rather in the dark regarding yesterday’s events.
“I was. I probably still am.” He rubbed his sweaty palms against his pants. “I just want to start over. Can we?” For one night, he had caught a glimpse of the sweetness of caring for a wife, of being strong for her, merciful. This one time it wasn’t worth rehashing everyone’s mistakes.
Her eyes widened, the blue brimming over. Why was she crying?
“Sally? Dear heart…”
The endearment caused several tears to spill onto her soft cheeks. She took one step toward him, hesitant. When he opened his arms to her, she fell into them and sobbed against his chest.
“Oh, Joe…”
No other words came. He smiled into the hair brushing against his chin, reveling in her nearness.
Then a loud crack of rifle fire from outside caused both of them to jump.
“Sally, get out here!”
Sally gasped, the noise harsh in the terrible silence that followed the gunshot and the command. “It’s Rufus…”
Pushing her away, Joe headed for the door. “Stay here, Sally. You hear me? I don’t want you leaving this house.”
“Don’t go out there. He sounds too angry, Joe.” She threw her hands around his waist, like she was going to use all of her strength to keep him inside. “He’s mad that I hit him. It embarrassed him, that’s all. There’s nothin’ for the two of you to talk about. Please don’t leave.” Her words were warm against his back, almost melting his resolve. “I know him. He isn’t reasonable when he’s angry.”
“Reminds me of someone else I know,” he replied, trying to add teasing to his tone in order to calm her. “He has to know that I won’t back down.” Turning in her arms until she was nestled in front of him, he hugged her close and whispered in her ear. “You’re my wife. I will protect you.”
“Please don’t…”
He kissed the top of her head and then stepped out of her embrace, ignoring her pleas as he grabbed the shotgun by the door and walked out onto the porch, closing the door firmly behind him. O’Daniel was standing several yards away, his rifle aimed at Joe’s chest.
“What do ya want, O’Daniel?” The fall wind was cool as it blew past him, and he blamed his sudden shiver on the crisp air.
O’Daniel nodded toward the house, the gun never wavering. “I want the woman. She was mine for years before you spirited her away, and I want her back.”
The man stood as straight and still as a statue of a Civil War soldier. Had O’Daniel fought in the war? Cold sweat slid down Joe’s back beneath his shirt, but he wasn’t backing down.
He gritted his teeth. “Sally is my wife, not my ‘woman.’ We are bound together before God and the state, and no one should try to separate us. You may be one of the wealthiest men around, but you can’t buy Sally.”
“I certainly have more to offer her than you do. Why don’t we just ask Sally to come out here and choose the better man?”
The gun was slipping in Joe’s sweaty hands, and he wished he could set it down and wipe his palms on his pants again. “So you can threaten her and scare her into going with you? I don’t think so. You had your chance to marry her, but that chance is gone. Just leave her alone!”
O’Daniel took a step toward the house without lowering his rifle, and Joe could see his gaze narrow on the window, as if he were trying to see Sally through the glare.
He raised his gun, wishing Myghal would come back or Seth would appear. “Don’t come any closer.”
The bullet slammed into his abdomen and threw him to his back before he heard the report. It came before he could think of a prayer…before Sally’s muffled scream reached him through the walls of his childhood home…before he could imagine what his death would mean for the people he loved.
The pain tore at his gut, and a fire seemed to roar to life in every part of his body. He could barely sense Sally hovering over him or hear Seth shouting from somewhere out near the barn.
Oh, God…
Long ago he had prepared for such a moment, but he had never thought it would be so soon, or so violent and unexpected.
Sweat poured from his brow and stung his eyes. Oh, God, please help! I can’t just leave Sally. I love her. Did I ever tell her that? And Seth and Myghal… It hurts so bad, God. Please forgive me. Oh, God…
When a hand reached out to lead him home, Joe grasped it and breathed his last.
Chapter 17
> Seth Clifton was a peaceful man – or at least he used to be. Anger took a long time to seep into his heart, as did any other deep emotion. His pa had first come to Nevada with his wife and nine-year-old Seth in ’60 when news of silver had tempted him to finally strike out on his own, away from the family dairy business. He had been one of the few to build a life for himself instead of following the gold or silver wherever it decided to pop up next, even though it didn’t keep him from dying in the desert like everyone else.
So all Seth had known was this ranch, this desert valley with its outcast inhabitants scattered among the sagebrush. He married a local girl – a Jewish woman who wasn’t welcome in Virginia City but was as familiar to Seth as the horses and scorpions. He was satisfied with his lot in life. His younger brother and the wind kept him company during the day; stars and his woman kept him company at night.
He never understood why Joe was so restless, why he found a job in town, fell in love with some stranger from Colorado, and then up and left for the forests of the California coast. Not until Ma died, and then Naomi, and now…
Suddenly, the canyon wasn’t big enough to contain Seth’s rage and grief.
With a yell that would have scared the Rebels in the War Between the States, he stormed up to the porch and grabbed the shotgun his brother had dropped, barely glancing at Sally holding his brother’s head in her lap. A lingering look at the scene would kill him, too.
Hefting the gun to his shoulder and pointing the barrel at the demon who had shot his brother, he roared, “Get off of my property!”
He fired twice above the snake’s head, hating himself for not being brave enough to shoot the man right between the eyes. His arms quivered, and with a choked sob he shouted, “Get. Off!”
The gun barrel shook dangerously as Seth watched Rufus O’Daniel slowly back away. Why couldn’t he just shoot him? O’Daniel stared at Sally and Joe with a dazed expression…then turned and started toward the path out of the canyon…away from the evil he had caused.