Longing For The Tormented Sheriff (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  He dismounted and carefully walked closer to the house. He peered behind the tree, trying to figure if he could see where the gunman was and how many they were. As he skulked closer to the next tree, he nearly tripped on a protruding root and had to grab hold of a branch to keep from falling down, which resulted in a loud sound as the branch shook. But at that time, he heard Rex call: “Come out, now. There’s no place to run.”

  In response, there was a deafening gunshot fired. Michael bent low and tried to see if Rex had been hit. Rex caught his eyes and made a gesturing movement to go behind the house. Michael nodded in agreement and slowly made his way around the house. He had to walk slowly and hold out his hand to keep him from walking into trees.

  When he was at the house, he looked in Rex direction again, who looked behind the pile of logs he was hiding behind, just quickly enough to nod to Michael, before another shot was fired. Michael walked up to the cabin, which did not have any windows, or at least they were boarded up. He pressed his ear to the exterior wall and tried to hear how many were inside.

  He did not hear anything, but he noticed that there was one window which had been boarded up, but the piece of wood covering the window was loose. Just as he was thinking about how he could pull on the wood panel without alerting the gunman inside, Rex began shouting.

  “Come out, you coward,” Michael heard Rex say.

  “Aren’t you man enough to face me,” he added with a jeer. Predictably, the gunman shot once more, and Michael used the cover of the noise to pull hard at the panel. It almost came off at once, and he just managed to grab it before it hit the window harshly. Come on, Rex… Distract him again. For a little while, there was nothing, but then Rex began shouting again. Michael pulled the loose wood panel off completely and noticed that the window was open now.

  Carefully, he looked inside, holding his gun out, ready to shoot. At once, he lowered his gun as he saw inside the small cabin. By one of the windows on the other side, there was a man, dressed in black, his back facing Michael, aiming a long riffle out the boarded-up window, which had a small hole for him to peer through. In one of the corners, further away from Michael, he noticed three small children huddled together.

  Two of the smaller children were hidden from view, their older sister, Sally, holding her arms around them in a protective manner. Michael rose up slightly, trying to catch the attention of the children. Slowly he waved at them until finally Sally looked up and noticed him. He held a finger over his lips, urging her to be quiet. She gasped when she noticed him, but quickly put her hand over her mouth.

  Michael signaled to Sally that they should walk, very quietly, toward him. She shook her head, frightened, looking nervously at the gunman by the window. Michael thought for a moment before he mimicked a gun firing and then walking. He repeated this and looked intently at Sally.

  Tears were streaming down her pale cheeks, but slowly she nodded her head. She bent down and whispered something in her sibling’s ear. At once, the golden-haired boy that Michael had seen once before, looked up his eyes wide. When he saw Michael at once, he began walking towards him.

  Immediately, Michael shook his head, frantically looking between the boy and the shooter, but again, Rex called out, insulting the man for not going outside and fight him like a man. The shooter stood up, angrily grabbing his gun. Just before Michael looked away, he pointed down to the small boy, who, alarmed by the movement behind him, crouched down.

  Michael moved his head very slowly so as if he could see inside the window, holding his gun—ready to shoot. With horror, he saw the man look at Sally, but he did not seem to have noticed that one of the children had gone. His face was covered with a dark handkerchief, and his hat was pulled down low, so it was impossible to see his face.

  The shooter punched open the window panel he had been shooting through, giving himself more room to shoot. Throwing caution to the wind, Michael stood up by the window, signaling the boy to come to him. The boy jumped to his feet, and Michael put out his arms, lifting the boy up and through the window. Michael put the boy down, looking around.

  “Go hide behind that tree,” he whispered, “Don’t move until I say so.” The boy nodded his head rapidly, jumping behind the tree. Michael stood up again, gesturing to Sally to join him, who had already begun to crawl towards him, holding her sister tightly. The shooter was getting visibly angrier with Rex’s taunts, and just as brave little Sally lifted up her sister to Michael’s outstretched arms, he turned around.

  “NO!” the shooter screamed, leaping back. Michael put down the little girl and yelled, “REX!” At once, the door to the cabin was kicked down, and in the momentary confusion, Michael bent down over the window-sill, grabbing Sally in his arms and pulling her out. At the same time, there were two gunshots, and Michael could feel as the bullet grazed past him. He bent down and carried the two girls to their brother.

  “Stay here!” he commanded and ran back to the house. He looked through the window and saw Rex standing up after having fallen, and the black-clad shooter was running away, limping.

  “Stop him,” Rex yelled, and Michael ran around the house. The shooter had managed to reach the carriage, but Michael was rapidly gaining on him. But just as he was about to reach him, the shooter turned around quickly, holding out the back of his riffle and jabbing it in Michael’s face.

  A loud cracking sound and metallic taste filled Michael’s mouth as blood began to pour from his nose. When he looked up again, he saw the shooter riding away like a bullet—on his horse.

  “Goddamit!” Michael cursed, kicking the ground with fury. Michael pinched his nose and used his handkerchief to stop the bleeding. He turned around and walked back towards the cabin.

  “He got away,” he called to Rex, who just left the cabin. Rex had a black eye but seemed otherwise to be all right.

  “Where are the children?” Rex asked.

  “Behind the cabin,” Michael said, walking back to the tree where the children were huddled together.

  “Come on, children,” he said, “Let’s go see your mother.”

  Michael picked up the youngest child and carried it towards the carriage, still clutching the handkerchief over his bleeding nose. Sally and her younger brother followed, holding hands, joining Rex, who was trying to pull back the carriage. It had been hastily left on the side of the road, and getting it back would take some careful maneuvering.

  Michael put down the child and began helping Rex pulling the carriage backward. After heaving it for a few minutes, they finally managed to get it on the road. The children climbed up but looked absolutely terrified.

  “Hey,” Michael said soothingly, “Chin up! Do you know where we’re going?”

  “Where?” The young boy said timidly.

  “To your mama,” Michael said reassuringly, “At your grandparents’ house.”

  “But…” Sally simpered, “What if the bad man comes there?” Tears filled her eyes, but she shook them away.

  “Well, I have met your grandfather, and I think he would do pretty much anything to protect you,” Michael chuckled, and the three children smiled.

  “He sure will,” Rex said, walking towards them.

  “You better ride the carriage,” he added, “Since he took your horse.”

  “The bastard,” Michael spat, as he securely closed the carriage door, and walked to the front.

  “You should ride ahead with the children; I will stay here to investigate the cabin,” Rex said.

  “Do you think you will find anything there?” Michael asked, “It looked pretty empty.”

  “We managed to surprise them,” Rex stated, “They have always been three or four steps ahead of us, until now.”

  “Good luck,” Michael said, “When will I see you next?”

  “I will return to the Hammond resident soon,” Rex answered.

  “All right then,” Michael replied.

  “Be safe,” Rex added, walking back toward the cabin.

  * * *


  The carriage was heavy and moved slowly. Michael looked around him, constantly imagining that he was seeing movement in between the trees. When he was on the main road, he relaxed, but only slightly. He could hear the two younger children whimpering in the back of the carriage, Sally trying to calm them down.

  Finally, he was riding down the long road that led to the farm of Mrs. Wesley’s parents. The sky was dark, but there was still light in the windows, and as Michael rode into the farmyard, the front door opened. Mr. Hammond appeared, holding his rifle, but when he saw who was riding the carriage, he lowered his gun and called inside: “Come out, Bella!”

  After a short moment, the door flung open, and Mrs. Wesley came running outside, wearing her nightgown.

  “Where are my children?” she cried, “What happened? Where are they?”

  “Take a look,” Michael smiled, jumping down and walking to the back of the carriage opening the door.

  “Mama!” the children screamed and jumped out of the carriage. Mrs. Wesley was crying tears of joy and hugging her children tightly, kissing them all over.

  “Thank you,” she said, when she stood up, holding her youngest, and was barely able to walk as her two other children clung to each leg.

  “You saved them! How can I ever repay you?”

  “Let’s get them inside,” Michael said, “They need to rest.” All of them walked into the house, and Mr. and Mrs. Hammond embraced their grandchildren joyfully. Mr. Hammond demanded to give Michael a drink, and Mrs. Hammond pushed him to sit down in the kitchen to have something to eat.

  As Michael had not eaten, well, he didn’t actually remember when he last ate, he accepted the food. He was finishing his second plate of sausages when Mrs. Wesley returned from putting her children to bed.

  “They are finally asleep,” she said, sitting across Michael.

  “How are they feeling?” Michael asked.

  “Scared,” she replied simply, “But my Billy says that he’s going to be sheriff when he grows up,” she chuckled.

  “And a fine one he will be,” Michael said.

  “I need to tell you something,” Mrs. Wesley added thoughtfully, biting her lip, “You have no idea how this has plagued me. I tried to tell you, but… Well, I was nervous if telling you would cause problems, but I didn’t even tell you, and still, my children were taken away from me. I want you to find them and get them behind bars—all of them.”

  “Who are they?” Michael asked, pushing his plate away from him.

  “The thing is, I actually don’t know,” she grimaced, “But they were threatening my Finnegan. He didn’t tell me much, but he did mention that someone was trying to buy his property, and he refused them.”

  “Someone tried to buy his shop?” Michael asked.

  “Not the shop, no,” Mrs. Wesley replied.

  “They wanted his father’s old warehouse,” she added.

  “What warehouse is that?” Michael said urgently.

  “It is just across the county border,” she explained, “It hasn’t been in use for years, and not many people know about it. But the land is large, and has great potential…” her voice broke, and she dried tears from her eyes, “Finnegan wanted to open a bigger woodshop there. Have inventory that he could store and expand more.”

  “Can you tell me where this warehouse is?” Michael said.

  “Yes, I can,” Mrs. Wesley, “But I am going to need a map.”

  While Mr. Hammond went looking for a map, there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Wesley froze in her tracks, and Mrs. Hammond dropped the plate she had been drying. The resounding crack as the plate broke seemed to break the spell, and Michael stood up.

  “I will go,” he said, walking to the front door. He held his gun ready, opening the door slowly. But when he noticed that it was Rex standing there, he lowered his gun.

  “Come on in,” Michael said, opening the door to let him walk inside.

  “That’s the chiseler!” Mr. Hammond bellowed, pointing at Rex, “Why are you letting him inside? This is the man that pretended to be the sheriff!”

  “Please, forgive me,” Rex said, taking off his hat, “Allow me to introduce myself; Rex Rodgers. I’m a bounty hunter from the Gatesville Sheriff’s office.”

  “Why did you try to deceive us?” Mr. Hammond demanded.

  “I must admit, that I was hoping to get a quicker response from you, and in my experience, folks are more willing to speak with the sheriff, and not some bounty hunter,” Rex explained.

  “I could not have saved your children without his help,” Michael said, looking at Mrs. Wesley.

  “Thank you,” she replied softly.

  “Did you find anything in the cabin?” Michael asked.

  “No, not much. I’m not even sure this is one of their regular spots, it was almost completely empty.”

  “What cabin was this?” Mr. Hammond asked.

  “A small, secluded one, just off the crossroads,” Rex said.

  “That must be the old hunting cabin,” Mr. Hammond said, “No one’s used it in years.”

  “But they cannot have been there for long, ‘cause behind it is a popular riding track, and there is a clear view of the cabin from there.”

  “Interesting,” Rex said, looking at Michael.

  “They are getting careless,” Michael stated.

  “Indeed,” Rex nodded, and then he handed Michael a small object.

  “The matches!” Michael exclaimed, examining the small packet of matches that was exactly the same as the previous ones he had found after the fires. He turned it over and read the inscription out loud: “Emerald Creek Hotel.”

  “Have you seen these matches before?” Rex asked curiously.

  “I found them after two of the fires in Rust Canyon,” Michael explained, “But I wasn’t able to read the inscription before. But these are definitely the same; I would recognize this picture from anywhere.”

  “We are getting closer to catching them,” Rex said triumphantly.

  “You fellas should get some rest,” Mrs. Hammond said suddenly, “You must be dead tired.”

  “I cannot,” Michael said gravely, “Once you show me where the warehouse is, I will ride out.”

  “You should gather your strength,” Rex said, “Besides, you don’t have a horse.”

  “I must go now,” Michael retorted, “Now they must know we are getting closer, and they might move Lillian, or even…” he wasn’t able to finish the sentence. The sudden image of Lillian screaming his name as a bullet pierced her chest filled his tired mind, and he had to shake it away.

  “You will take one of our horses,” Mr. Hammond said, looking intently at Michael.

  “It is clear that where you are meant to be now, and that is with her,” he added, “Now, mark on the map Bella, where that warehouse is. I will fetch the horse.”

  “Thank you,” Michael said, sincerely.

  I have to get to her in time… I cannot bear the thought of losing her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lillian stirred as she heard sound from outside. She had fallen asleep hunched over, and her whole body ached worse than ever. She looked up and was startled to see Samuel crouched in one corner of the room, clutching his wounded hand close to his chest. He was shaking all over, and he had his eyes closed, but Lillian could tell that he was not asleep. The bandages she had made were soaked in blood, and he looked pale and clammy.

  “Samuel,” Lillian whispered, her voice hoarse and croaky. Samuel didn’t seem to hear her, or perhaps Lillian hadn’t really made a sound. It was difficult to tell, with the pounding in her head that grew more painful by the minute. Lillian heaved herself up to a sitting position and tried again.

  “Samuel,” she said, a little louder this time. Now, Samuel did look up, and Lillian noticed that he looked confused and weak. He finally spotted her and seemed surprised to see her; for a moment, it even seemed as if he did not recognize her.

  “We need to change the bandages,” Lillian sa
id, growing more concerned by the state of her benevolent capturer.

  “Samuel,” she repeated, but at that moment, a sound from outside grew louder. Samuel looked in the direction of the sound, and he tried to stand up, but he did not have the strength to move. The sound of someone walking around grew even louder, and Lillian could hear them curse loudly.

  “Where is he,” the voice from outside said, and Lillian realized that she had heard that voice before, but she could not yet make out who it was.

  The door to the room opened, and Lillian quickly lay back, grabbing the rope that Samuel had untied from her earlier and wound it loosely over her wrists, making it look like she was still tied.