Blake Allen

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Blake Allen Page 10

by Danni Roan


  Blake took a step closer to the woman he had brought to the Broken J only weeks ago. She was still pale, her dark hair clinging to her damp brow, but her luminous eyes were full of determination and a hint of pain.

  “All right,” he said reaching out and gently taking her shoulders in his hands. He felt Darcy shiver and considered closing the window but pressed on. “We’ll leave today, but are you sure you’re ready?”

  “I’m not going to be any more ready tomorrow than I am today. We need to do this and bring it all to end then we can go our separate ways.”

  Blake dropped his hands surprised at her words. Would he have to say good-bye to his plucky friend? His job left little room for a future with a wife and children, but he had hoped the he and Darcy could remain friends. “You’ll leave when this is over?”

  “I have a life you know,” Darcy snapped turning back to shove more items into her bag. “Go get ready and make sure you pack that pistol of yours, we might need it.”

  Blake stepped away, his heart sagging as he headed for the door.

  “Turnip.”

  Blake swiveled on his heel meeting her steady gaze.

  “Thanks for saving my worthless life.”

  Blake wanted to go to her, to assure her that she was of great worth, but he could see by the set of her jaw and the cold glint in her eye that it would do no good. Dropping his gaze, he moved toward the door heading to his own room.

  Within fifteen minutes they were both packed and headed for the car only to be stopped by his mother who held a small leather bag in her hand.

  “You might need this,” Meg Allen said, her aquamarine eyes soaking in the sight of her son. “Just a few supplies in case you get stranded somewhere.”

  “Thanks Ma,” Blake said, taking the bag and reaching out to hug his mother. “I’ll write as soon as I can.”

  “You had better,” Meg sniffed releasing Blake and turning to Darcy who she pulled into a gentle embrace. “You look after yourself,” the older woman sighed. “You are always welcome here on the Broken J and,” she paused clearing the hitch in her throat. “Thank you for looking after him for me.”

  Darcy nodded, lifting her chin and brushing at her eye with the back of her hand. “I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all anyone can ask,” Meg agreed. “You’re both doing the right thing,” she continued. “There are wicked men in this world who will do anything for wealth and power. They don’t care who they hurt to get what they want as they look down on those of us who work for a living. Remember, that no matter what happens, you are stronger together.”

  Blake dropped his hand to his mother’s shoulder placing a kiss on her cheek as Darcy walked around the flashy car and slipped into the passenger seat.

  Stepping away from his heart and home, Blake climbed into the car and turned the engine over, the roar of the fast auto, drowning out his mother’s last words as he trundled down the drive.

  “We’ll be praying.” Meg whispered, her heart turning to ash in her breast.

  Chapter 19

  The drive toward Laramie was long, winding, and quiet as the racy little car ate up the miles.

  Darcy spent most of the time staring out the window and leaving Blake alone with his own thoughts. He was both worried and exhilarated about the prospect of finally discovering the identity of the man who had been organizing everything for this notorious gang.

  “I think we need to go into Laramie first,” Darcy spoke for the first time in nearly an hour. “I’m not sure where the real hideout is, but I think I know who will.” The young woman turned looking at Blake and he quickly glanced away from the road to connect with her eyes.

  “You can still back out of this,” the words popped from his mouth and he cringed at the hard look she gave him.

  “It’s too late for me Turnip, I’ve been lost since the day I met Pierce. You just focus on keeping us alive and finding justice for these men.”

  Blake nodded, his eyes once more glued to the road. He could see by the hard set of her jaw that Darcy wouldn’t change her mind. He was proud of her determination, but worried for her safety. She had barely escaped with her life the last time they got in the middle of what this gang was doing.

  Setting his mind on the goal, Blake pushed the worry and doubt behind him and focused on the end result. They were too close to turn back now.

  ***

  Darkness was almost upon them when Blake pulled to a stop in front of a little house on a hill near Laramie. “Who lives here?” Blake asked peering into the gray light. The small boxy house tucked into the side of the hill looked empty but for the golden glow that radiated from a single window next to a white door.

  “It’s one of the bottling buildings,” Darcy said, smoothing her dress and reaching for the door handle. “They take the jugs and barrels they have collected and start pouring the hooch into bottles. Sometimes they add coloring, or other flavoring to make the stuff seem like it’s better than it really is. I was here once when Pierce had to check on a late delivery.”

  “And you think he’s here now?”

  “No, there are only a few men working here but one of them might know where the other hideout is or if Pierce has been through.”

  Blake nodded opening his car door as she did the same and hurrying around the car. Gently he placed his hand at the small of Darcy’s back hoping to infuse her with a bit of courage he didn’t really feel. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” Darcy agreed walking boldly toward the door and rapping on it three times. The light in the window flickered for a moment then the door swung open and an old man jerked with surprise.

  “Why Darcy I didn’t expect to see you here.” The thin old man waved them through the door looking out into the darkness before pulling the door closed. “Fact is I heard tell you was dead.”

  Blake’s hand inched toward the pistol under his arm but he stopped as Darcy laughed.

  “That’s not too far from the truth,” Darcy laughed, taking a cigarette from her case and slipping it into the slim black holder. “I’m here trying to track down Pierce. I know he must be heartbroken without me. The thought of him thinking me dead is eating me up inside.”

  “You always was a good girl,” the old man grinned. “I’ll bet Pierce will be happy to see ya again. It’s too late to travel them rough roads tonight though, so I’ll make ya a map and you can head to the hideout first thing in the morning.” The old man smiled again, his weary eyes scanning Blake. “Who’s this fella?”

  “This is one of Pierce’s men. He’s the one that saved my life at the bank. Pierce told him to protect me so that’s what he did. Now he’s helping me get back to my man.”

  The old man grunted but didn’t ask anything else. “You go on to the back and the wife will get ya some food. You can take the empty room down the hall.”

  “Thank you Gregory.” Darcy touched the old man’s arm lightly then turned toward the door at the back of the room.

  Blake wondered about the old man and how he had come to work for a reprobate like Pierce, but his thoughts were whisked away as he followed Darcy into a warm kitchen where a plump, gray-haired, woman clapped her hands in delight at the sight of them.

  “Well, look at you!” she declared with a grin on her round face. “Darcy, you’re still as pretty as a picture, and who is this handsome young man with you? Don’t let Pierce know you’re traveling with such a good looking young man.” The older woman scowled for a moment before her face lit up once more. “Well no point worrying about that fella now is there. You two come in and sit. All I have is stew, but it’s hot and plentiful.”

  Blake raised a brow as the woman hustled back to the stove.

  “Blake this is Mrs. Withers,” Darcy introduce him to the woman’s back as they slipped into chairs at a battered table.

  “Pleased to meet you ma’am.”

  The old woman tittered, placing two large bowls of steaming stew before them.

  “Now don’t you have nice ma
nners? I’ll get you some bread and butter.”

  Blake took up his spoon, thanking the older woman as she placed a cutting board with bread and butter in front of them. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the smell of food hit him like a physical blow. The stew was hot and full of flavor and he all but sighed at the delight dancing on his tongue.

  “Now what brings you two here,” Mrs. Withers asked. “This far out, we don’t get many visitors.”

  “I’m looking for Pierce,” Darcy answered the question, meeting the old woman’s gray gaze. “We were separated.”

  “Separated, huh! When Pierce stopped by here for supplies a week ago he said you were dead.”

  Darcy’s hand slipped to the wound at her side and she swallowed before speaking once more. “I was injured,” she agreed, “but thanks to Blake here I survived. Pierce told him he was to look out for me, and he did.”

  Blake turned to study Darcy as she spoke. It hadn’t been the other man’s command that had compelled him to save Darcy, it had been his own heart and convictions. He could no sooner have left her in that bank to die than he could walk away from a wounded animal.

  “Well I’m glad you’re on the mend then, and I’m right sure that Pierce will be happy to see you. He said things didn’t go well on the last endeavor. Still, I supposed you reap what ya sow”

  Darcy flinched as the words hit her and she shot a look at Blake. Would her actions today be enough to redeem her after so many wasted years? Dropping her eyes she focused on her food, spooning it slowly to her lips as she ordered her thoughts.

  “Gregory said we could stay here tonight. Can I help you get anything ready?”

  “No, no,” Mrs. Withers said. “I’ll fetch some blankets, and you can fix yourself up the best way you can. Not much to offer folks here, but that’s the way they want it. Nothing to leave behind if we have to run.” She shook her head as deep seated sorrow marring her soft features.

  Darcy placed her hand over the other woman’s fingers. “You’re only doing what you have to,” she whispered. “You know what will happen if you don’t.”

  “Aye,” the old woman said her eyes flicking to Blake. “Best not to dwell on it though. Maybe one day we’ll all be able to get out of this mess.” Pushing herself to her feet Mrs. Withers shook her head and walked out of the room.

  “What was that about?” Blake asked. “She doesn’t seem to like Pierce very much.”

  “She doesn’t,” Darcy agreed. “Pierce collected her son, just like me. Put him to work running liquor and other things. He got caught. Pierce met his family at the trial, not that he really cared what happened to the boy, but he was there to see that Fred didn’t talk. He told the Withers that he would see to it that the boy was watched over in prison if they would run this outpost for him. What else could they do?”

  The stew turned sour on Blake’s tongue and he dropped his spoon back into the bowl. “What if they had refused?”

  “Fred would probably have died in the first week at the pen. He’s always been small, slender and sensitive like. Apparently, Pierce saw to it that he was housed with a big man that could keep him safe.”

  Blake dropped his hand over Darcy’s feeling the chill of her fingers under his palm. “I’ll see what I can do about getting him out,” he whispered. “I can’t promise, but if he’ll turn evidence along with us…”

  Darcy wrapped her pale fingers around his rugged hand and squeezed. “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  ***

  Darcy rolled over on her pallet of blankets and gazed out the window. The small house was quiet as the Withers had turned in. Below the house, in the depths of the earth, she knew that other men were still busy preparing bottles for shipment, and that cars, trucks, and wagons would be arriving to pick up and deliver what they had prepared.

  Behind her near the door Blake slept, his breathing soft and even in the still of the night.

  Not for the first time, Darcy wondered how she had gotten herself into this mess.

  The moon above was bright and full of light, but the shadows still lingered spreading across the room like a creeping vine. It had been those shadows, shattered by the glow of bright lights, and fancy things, that had pulled Darcy into this life. Now her only hope of escape was to bring down the gang with Blake or to lose the battle for life.

  Closing her eyes she remembered her time on the Broken J, the place was filled to overflowing with love and life and her mind turned back to her own family.

  Her brothers had once been jovial souls, but over time, life had stolen that light from their eyes. Still there had been love, a quiet kind of love, hidden beneath the gloom of her former home.

  Perhaps in time she would be able to go back there. To face her parents and other kin, and see if they would accept or reject whom she had become. Darcy wasn’t proud of her life, or where it had led.

  At first the glamour, money, and promise of her heart’s desires had filled her with joy and laughter, but as the reality of life had slipped in, Darcy had come to understand that all that glittered wasn’t gold. She had been given everything she had desired, money, clothing, jewelry, yet she was no happier than she had been on that little dirt farm in the middle of the prairie.

  What was the true secret to happiness? What did she need to do to find peace and joy? It was all so elusive, like trying to capture the glimmer of sunlight on water.

  Blake stirred in his sleep and something in Darcy’s heart turned over as well. If only she had met a man like that when she landed in the big city instead of Pierce, but the past was the past, and all she could hope for was a chance to start again. Perhaps she could find a little shop and make a living by selling pretty things or take on charity work to help atone for her sins.

  As her heart grew heavy with the knowledge that she had no chance at a normal life, Darcy’s eyes slipped closed and she dropped into a troubled sleep.

  Chapter 20

  The heavily rutted road made travel slow as Blake maneuvered the shiny car over the dirt track headed toward the hideout he had sought for so long.

  “It’s kind’a pretty out here,” Darcy spoke for the first time since they had taken the long drive up the mountain from Laramie. “It’s different than the lower plains.”

  “It is a beautiful place,” Blake agreed. “I’m always surprised at the boulders and massive rock formations in this area.”

  “You’ve been here before?”

  Blake chuckled running a hand over the scar along his brow. “Not that long ago actually,” he grinned. “I never did find the hideout, but I got close.”

  Darcy studied the man quietly understanding. “You could have been killed?”

  “According to my mother, it’s a wonder I lived to this age, as many scrapes as I got myself into as a kid.”

  Darcy laughed, her dark eyes sparking at the thought of the serious Blake as a child. She had gotten a glimpse of the real man beneath the polished veneer when they were at the ranch, but could barely imagine him as a boy.

  “I guess when it comes down to it any of us could be gone in an instant. The Bible says that the old must die, but the young do die, so I guess we should all just do the best we can while we’re here.”

  Darcy turned away as guilt filled her with a sick feeling. She had certainly not done her best. Would her actions now wipe away the sins of the past? Her hand trailed, absently, to her side and the mostly healed bullet wound. She could have died that day. She should have died that day, but somehow she had been given a second chance. If she could pull this off and help Blake bring the violent gang to justice, perhaps then she would be able to make things right with the Almighty.

  “I don’t know what it was that led me into this life,” Blake continued, not seeing Darcy’s frown. “I haven’t always done what’s right, and was always in trouble growing up. Now, I’m just thankful for the forgiveness of a God who loved me enough to make a way to save my soul.”

  Darcy turned her head bac
k from the window studying the handsome man who was focused on getting them over the rough road in one piece.

  “Why would you say that?” The young woman scowled again. “You’re a good person, childhood antics don’t really count against a body and now look at you. You saved my life, you have dedicated your life to upholding the law and keeping bad men from hurting others.”

  Blake glanced at Darcy and smiled. “It doesn’t matter how much good I do in this world,” he spoke softly. “If I don’t trust that the sacrifice of Jesus is the answer to my sin, I can’t be saved. Sure, we should all do our best. We should be kind, true, honest, and determined to stand up against wrong even when it isn’t easy, but none of that will save us.”

  Blake looked back to the road as they hit a deep rut, bouncing them uncomfortably as they began to climb once more, his full attention needed to keep them from landing in a ditch.

 

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