by Lydia Olson
“Oh, my love!” Sarah said. “I thought I was going to die.”
David looked her in the eye. “We will if we don’t leave now,” he said as he grabbed her by the hand and freed her of her restraints. “We’ve got to run, Sarah,” he said. “Don’t let go of my hand!”
They fled through the house, the flames hungry to touch and consume them with the rest of the property. They ran as fast as their feet would carry them, emerging through the front door and collapsing in a heap outside of it, gulping in fresh air.
David coughed as he tried to catch his breath, holding onto Sarah tightly as she did the same. Jacobs and Carl approached, pulling them away from the burning home and out of harm’s way onto the street.
“Come!” Jacobs said. “Move them away.”
David’s and Sarah’s clothing was singed, and soot covered their faces like war paint. Jacobs and Carl pulled them a safe distance away from the home, and as David held onto Sarah, they watched as the fire finally caused Michael Crane’s house to collapse in on itself.
Several members of the gang gasped. A few smiled as they saw the riches of Michael Crane literally burn to the ground. David and Sarah said nothing as they watched the house cave on itself, the burning wood of the structure sounding like some kind of beast letting out a final wail of protest.
Sarah buried her face against David’s chest. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream,” she said. “Please tell me we’re alive.”
David cupped Sarah’s face in his hands. “We’re alive, my love,” he said. “We made it.”
Sarah wept as she and David kissed, the two of them catching their breath and taking a moment to appreciate the fact that they were still alive.
“David,” Jacobs said as he crouched next to him, “where’s Tucker? We could hear his voice when we were approaching.”
“He’s dead,” David said. “I saw the body.”
“Crane rode east on horseback. He’s trying to flee.”
David felt a resurgence of energy. He stood up, moving toward one of the horses that was in the rear of the group. He recognized one of the riders, who was a regular in the saloon and was known to David from his nightly mug of beer there. “Can I borrow your mount, Bert?” he asked the man on horseback.
Bert nodded and dismounted, handing the reins to David as he slid over the back of the horse. “Do what you need to do, Bryant,” he said. “Godspeed.”
Jacobs approached. “Where are you going?”
David looked east toward the direction Crane had fled in. “Where do you think I’m going?” he said as he patted his six-shooter, slapped the reins, and rode off to catch up with Michael Crane.
***
David knew that the only direction Crane could have fled in was toward the outskirts of town. He knew the man was at his wit’s end, and there was nothing for him to do other than get out of Clarendon entirely.
I’m coming, Crane, he thought. How this ends is up to you.
The horse that David was riding zigzagged its way through Clarendon. News of the fire had traveled rapidly, and several people poked their heads out of their houses to watch the soot-covered David pursue Deputy Michael Crane. Only the moonlight overhead offered any kind of illumination, and David came to the saloon across the street from the train tracks, looking and listening for any signs of Crane.
“Where are you?” David called out loud. “Show that hateful face of yours.”
A few moments passed and nothing happened. For a moment, David feared that Crane had escaped justice. But when he looked to his right, David saw him flee to the west toward the desert, where there was nothing but open terrain ahead of him.
David’s nostrils flared as he turned the horse west and followed after Crane. He rode hard and fast, looking hard to spot the deputy in the evening twilight, slowly closing the gap on Crane and gradually catching up to him. David was just thirty paces away when Crane turned around and saw him.
Crane quickly produced his six-shooter and fired over his shoulder. David could hear the buzz of the bullet whizzing past him, and in response, he pulled his own six-shooter and fired at Crane, the round spooking Crane’s horse, throwing him from the saddle.
Crane fell hard to the earth, and the bag over his shoulder came free and ripped open. Bills scattered in the wind while Crane clutched at them desperately as he tried to catch his breath.
David dismounted, his weapon still in hand. He slowly approached Crane, who stood and maintained a tight grip on his gun. The two men were ten feet apart, both of them clutching their guns and staring each other dead in the eye. Nothing was said for a moment. An eerie silence filled the air in the desert surrounding Clarendon.
“What are you going to do, David?” Crane asked. “Are you going to shoot me?”
“I’d prefer not to,” David said. “I’d rather see you face justice.”
Crane shook his head. “There’s no way I’m letting you take me down. That’s not going to happen.”
“Give it up, Crane,” David urged. “It’s over. All of your men are dead, and this town has finally stood up against you. Put the gun down, or I’ll have to put you down.”
“No!” Crane said. “I run this town. I am the law.”
David shook his head. “Not anymore, Crane. It’s done. The real law is on its way, and everything you’ve done is going to be exposed. You’ll be locked up for the rest of your days. You’ll pay for every transgression you’ve ever committed.”
Crane remained defiant, adjusting his grip on the six-shooter as he widened his stance. “You’re going to have to shoot me, David,” he said. “That’s the only way I’m going to comply.”
David drew a breath, ready to do what needed to be done. “So be it,” he said as both men raised their weapons and squeezed off a single shot. But even though both of them fired it was only David who manage to land a hit.
Crane was hit square in his shoulder, spinning him around and forcing him to drop his weapon. He fell to the ground as David rushed up to him, his gun still trained on Crane as he placed the heel of his boot on Crane’s chest.
“Michael Crane,” David said. “You’re under arrest.”
Crane held his hands up and closed his eyes as the last of his ill-gotten gains were carried away with the wind. It was as if the curse of Crane had been lifted and carried away on the breeze, far from the town of Clarendon, Texas.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Sarah’s eyes were glued to the road that David had fled down to pursue Crane. She bit her thumb nail in nervous anticipation as she held onto the blanket that was draped over her shoulders. She prayed several times over that her love would be returned to her safely, pacing back and forth though she was weary and taxed from the long, protracted ordeal. Other townsfolk around her were in the midst of trying to sort out the mess, a few of them dousing out the last of the flames on Michael Crane’s property with buckets of water so the fire would not spread to other properties.
“He’ll be all right, Miss Harris,” Jacobs said as he came alongside her. “That’s a strong man you have there. He’ll return. I have no doubt about it.”
Sarah said nothing. She simply watched the road. Return him to me, God, she prayed. See him through this. End this once and for all. Let us be together and live in happiness, and please, let this be the end of Michael Crane and his madness.
Time passed and Sarah continued to watch the road, as did several of the other members in the group that had joined David to take down Crane. Other townsfolk had flooded out of their houses to check out the commotion that was taking place. There was a collective energy about the citizens of Clarendon that felt positive, and for the first time in a long while—free.
Please, God, Sarah prayed.
Please ...
Time passed. Sarah feared the worst—until she thought she saw something moving in the dark distance. She stared hard, trying to discern whether she’d really seen something or whether her frayed nerves were playing tricks on her. She waited, h
er eyes fixed at that spot in the distance, waiting and watching for confirmation. And then at last, coming from a distance on the borrowed horse, came David Bryant, dragging the limping and disgraced deputy behind him.
Sarah’s smile grew so big that it hurt her cheeks. She threw off the blanket and ran toward David, who slid off the horse and tossed the wounded Crane to the ground as she leapt into his arms. The moment felt surreal, so stunning was the triumph.
“Oh, my love!” Sarah cried out as she wrapped her arms around David’s neck. “You’re safe. Oh, thank God, you’re safe!”
David groaned and laughed. “Easy, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m feeling a little worse for wear.”
The two held each other close. They then looked deeply into each other’s eyes and kissed, holding the moment for as long as humanly possible. After they broke their embrace, Jacobs, Carl, and a few others approached.
“Well, well,” Jacobs said as he nudged Crane with his foot. “I’ve never seen this man cower so much in my life.”
Sarah watched as David scowled at Crane. “Get him out of my sight,” he said, before Jacobs, Carl, and the other men hauled the disgraced deputy away.
David wrapped his arm around Sarah, the two of them feeling a deep sense of peace and freedom for the first time in months. Though they didn’t relish the attention, they both felt the gratitude expressed by their fellow citizens, who had gathered to wait and see the outcome of the night’s drama. There was an overwhelming sense that the curse of Clarendon was gone for good.
“What happens now?” Sarah asked.
“We heal,” David said. “We live our lives. Together.”
They kissed once more, finally feeling free just as Jacob’s son, Kyle, returned with a band of burly and mustachioed US marshals, who approached with shackles to restrain Michael Crane.
“It’s over,” Sarah said softly as she rested her head against David’s shoulder. “We can finally be free.”
One of the marshals approached David and Sarah. He was a big, barrel-chested man with a mustache the color of a chestnut. His eyes were slits as he rested his hands on his hips and looked at David square in the eye.
“Are you David Bryant?” the marshal asked.
David nodded. “I am,” he replied.
The marshal removed his hat and gestured around the town. “Quite a ruckus been stirred up here, hasn’t it?”
David sighed. “It has, indeed, Marshal,” he said. “Trust me, I do not relish it.” He pointed to Crane, being held by Jacobs and Carl. “That’s the man responsible—Michael Crane. He’s had a stranglehold on this town, and it’s quite a tale to tell.”
The marshal patted Kyle on the back. “Well,” he said, “this young man has told me a little bit about it. I am not surprised. I’ve heard rumors about this town for a long time, and the man called Michael Crane. We will get this sorted out, believe you me.”
“I appreciate that,” David said. “You should also speak to Sheriff Stevens. He’s the one who’s allowed much of this to pass. He is just as culpable as Crane and his cohorts were. Nodding toward the burnt down residence of Michael Crane, David said, a few of them are in there. I suspect they perished in the fire.”
“Well,” the marshal said, it looks like we have our work cut out for us.” He patted David on the shoulder. “Your work here is done, son. Take a rest. You’ve done your part.”
David shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”
“No, son,” the marshal said. “Thank you.”
The marshal approached Crane with a somber expression. “You must be the fellow everyone’s talking about,” he said. “You caused quite a few headaches. Rest assured; you’re going to pay for everything that you’ve done.”
Crane said nothing but stared at the toes of his dusty boots. David glanced at him as he did so; Crane looked completely and utterly defeated as the marshals secured restraints around his wrists. He was hauled away looking like a shell of a man as he went to face justice.
“I hope he gets what’s coming to him,” Sarah said.
“He will,” David assured her. “He will.” He turned to Jacobs and Kyle. “You two saved our lives. I hope you know that. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Jacobs nodded. “It was our pleasure, David. Your uncle would be proud. You’ve truly honored his memory here today.”
The two men shook hands. David wrapped his arm around Sarah’s waist. “What do you say we go home?” he asked. “I think we’ve earned it.”
Sarah smiled. “I would like nothing more. Plus, I’ve heard so much about this ranch of yours, I can’t wait to see it.”
“Well,” David said, “you’ll need to get the lay of the land, if you plan on sticking around with me. He held up a finger. I apologize in advance, though. There’s a few, well, bullet holes in the walls, and temporarily, no windows.”
Sarah laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “I do plan on staying with you,” she said softly. “Always and forever.”
David took her hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go. And I’d like to put this whole thing behind us.”
“As do I, David Bryant,” Sarah said. “As do I.”
The two strolled off together in the direction of David’s ranch. They smiled all the way there, as the town of Clarendon rejoiced that all the pain, turmoil, and terror in their small town had finally come to a welcome end.
Epilogue
Three months later…
David was sitting on top of the roof of his ranch. The sun was shining, the breeze was soft, and all had been well over the past three months after the final ordeal of Michael Crane and Tucker Willis ended. Order had been restored. Clarendon was at peace, and the new sheriff—the marshal that David met—agreed to take over and govern the town lawfully and fairly.
It took some time to sort out the mess. The marshals stepped in and took over policing Clarendon while matters were dissected. Sheriff Stevens, having allowed Michael Crane and his friends to run wild, was arrested not long after Crane. The two men were put on trial, both of them pleading guilty to overwhelming evidence and sentenced to prison for the rest of their days. The bodies of Tucker Willis and Dwyer, as David had suspected, burned in the fire. It was for the best. No one mourned their loss anyway.
Not long after, the money that Crane had acquired through his side ventures and dirty dealings was gathered and redistributed throughout the town. Most of it was spent erecting a new house where the original had stood. A library was established there for the citizenry. Once it was completed, the townsfolk needed to appoint a director. They came to the conclusion that Sarah was the best choice, and she was overjoyed to accept.
As David went about repairing the damage to his ranch, Sarah spent her days stocking the bookshelves of the library with many of her favorite books. The citizens of Clarendon relished being able to go to the library, spending hours on end reading and deferring to Sarah for new selections and creating a new social spot in the town that everyone enjoyed frequenting.
When the day turned into night, Sarah went back to the ranch and spent her evenings with David. Though they were not married yet, she lived in one of the spare bedrooms in back. On this particular day, David waved to her from the roof and motioned for her to come to the ladder leaning against the house.
I wonder what he’s up to? she thought with a smile as she slowly climbed up the ladder.
“Easy, now,” David said. “Take it step by step.”
Sarah came to the top of the roof. She sat alongside David who jutted his chin out toward the horizon. “Oh my,” Sarah said as pink and gold and hues tinted the sky to signal that twilight was arriving. “It’s beautiful.”
“Indeed, it is,” David said. “Come. Let’s go back down.” David assisted Sarah off the roof. As soon as they were on the ground, he asked, “How was your day at the library?”
“Splendid, as always,” Sarah smiled. “I actually got a delivery of some of my books from back home, some of the ones
my father gave me. I couldn’t help but think of him today.” Images of her father came to mind, smiling and kissing her on the cheek when she was a child.
“How are you feeling about all of that?” David asked.
Sarah wrapped her arm around David’s waist. “I’m healing,” she said. “I’m healing.”
For the first time in a while, Sarah truly knew she meant was she was saying. Though she would always miss her father, and it would always sadden her that he was not around—she had accepted it and was living her life alongside David Bryant. She was happy for the first time in a while, in love with a man who treated her kinder and better than she could ever have asked for.