The Forbidden Ranch: Honor Elizabeth Wilde Tale 0f Suspense (Half Breed Haven Book 5)

by A. M. Van Dorn

  “Please, we must hurry! She implored as the men divided off into the two groups. “If Dewitt’s killers reach him first, they will kill him on the spot.”

  "Lead the way, ma'am. Get us to your ranch the quickest way possible."

  A moment later she was spurring her horse forward, carrying them along with her.

  ***

  Beneath the blazing full moon, Cedar Ledge found itself under siege as the syndicate, led by Sampson Dewitt, was attempting to storm the very ranch house itself. Inside, the judge had four men stationed at four of the six floor to ceiling windows, while he and Jeb were side by side at the other two in the center of the Great Room of the ranch house. The view below them was the sweeping slope that made up the expansive front lawn where the Triple W outlaws had taken a position.

  The Great Room was large enough to have twenty men at once—its grey walls always enthralling as rays of light slithered through the tall windows during the day—but on this night with the current situation, each man felt as if the room was too small; too poorly lit and furnished to keep their bodies protected from the arrays of bullets that were being fired at them.

  As Whip reloaded his pistol, his mind flashed back to earlier when the siege began at the sudden, but not the wholly unanticipated arrival of the Triple W rustlers.

  Having left Jeb and his bandaged hand back in the Great Room of Cedar Ledge, Whip had taken six of his cowhands down to the gate of Cedar Ranch. With satisfaction, he had watched as his cherished coach disappeared down the road carrying with it Mr. and Mrs. Chow, plus his other servants. They would be safe taking up refuge at the nearby Double J ranch from which his neighbor Jaden Jamison ran his "Western Experience" for city folks wanting to try their hand at ranch life. Whip had been very glad he could get them out of the line of fire if the night went as it was promising too.

  “All right men, get those gates shut. We’ll be having some visitors soon or I’m a lame calf,” Whip had shouted to his men. He disliked putting his cowhands in danger such as this but made the decision to instruct Lijuan to issue them all bonus pay if they made it through the likely confrontation.

  The clouds had moved away from the moon at the same time he heard frantic hoof beats and the sound of a racing wagon bucking its way up the south post road. Fortunately, they were coming from the opposite direction of the just-departed coach and would not see it, he had thought with relief. He watched as twenty men on horseback and a wagon come racing onto the main road heading for his gates. Their weapons glinted in the full moonlight.

  “They mean business, boys! Dewitt must have emptied his ranch to retrieve one man,” Whip said to the nearest hand, who happened to be Thorny. The stocky man removed his hat and pulled his long brown hair back before replacing it with a grin.

  “No worries, boss. They is gonna get more than they bargained for,” he said with determination. They need a raise too, Whip had thought as he made a note to pass that along to Lijuan as well.

  "Okay, men, let's go back behind the trees and get ready!" Whip had shouted to them, and they moved quickly to places of cover as he had suggested. They had opened fire when the jaspers reached the gate. Most of the bad men hit the dirt and began returning fire. A few of them, however, had hurriedly unhitched the team of horses and had begun maneuvering the wagon into a different position so its rear faced the gates. Whip realized what they were doing and cursed softly. Within moments, a score of syndicate men clustered on each side of it and behind it and began using the vehicle as a battering ram on the gate. The ensuing noise, he had thought, was loud enough to wake the dead.

  Whip and his men had kept up the shooting to keep them back as best they could as the air had become heavy with the stench of gunsmoke. They had the high ground, to be sure, but they were severely outnumbered. After a few minutes of exchanging gunfire, the Triple W gang broke through the gate, leaving it in a twisted ruin.

  “Fall back across the bridge, men!” Whip had shouted. He had known they couldn’t take them from where they were, so they mounted up and had ridden bent low over their horse’s necks to decrease themselves as targets. They thundered across the sturdy bridge that crossed the Rock River as it wound through the whole of Cedar Ledge, and continued on the roadway headed up the slope to the house.

  A bullet struck the dirt in front of Whip’s mount and he had spun around in his saddle, as did several of his men, returning fire. The noise from the pursuers had grown louder which had meant they were gaining. Whip shot a few more times, and as he had no way to reload while racing up the hill, he had to switch to his other revolver. This one he had jammed into his belt, unlike Cassandra who sported her twin pearl-handled Colt .45s in a dual holster.

  The man next to him had suddenly cried out and slumped down over his horse’s neck and Whip rode close, grabbing the reins to lead the horse home as the injured man hung on for dear life, blood bubbling forth from his shoulder. Behind him, Whip had heard another man cry out and cursed. Looking back, he had seen one of his men, the Louisianan Ned Scott, clutching his side but riding hard with his teeth gritted.

  Whip unleashed another shot towards a man that was closing in on Ned and watched as the man appeared yanked from his saddle as if by some invisible strings. Toppling from his horse the man had hit the ground hard with a scream before the snap of his neck silenced him forever. They were getting close to the ranch house when he had spied another gang member fly off his horse and heard the blast of a loud shotgun coming from his home. Spying Jeb, he had thought that was some nice long-distance shooting, as his crew pulled up when they reached the house.

  Jeb remained on the porch awkwardly holding the 12-gauge long rifle he had just used, with both his good and his bandaged hands. He came down and helped the injured men into the house while Whip watched the leader Dewitt veer off the road and park their wagon parallel to the big building. Some of the gang had taken up a position behind it for cover while others spread out on the grounds along the slope taking refuge behind various cedar trees. Whip had thought it looked like a standoff in the making and had hoped they could hold out if they needed to.

  He had dashed back inside just as his men had finished laying their injured friends on couches in the expansive room and everyone else took up positions at all the windows that made up the outer walls to the overlooking the lawn. Too many windows, Whip had thought. Then again having a battle on his doorstep had not been figured on when he and his pregnant late wife Mercedes had sat underneath one of the big cedars and designed the place as his three little girls and Dutch played happily in the sunlight on the sloping hill.

  "Surrender the man, Judge, you know what I want, give him to me!" Dewitt had yelled up to the judge across the makeshift no man's land

  "I don't make deals at gunpoint son. Get off my land or it won't end well for you!" Whip shouted back firmly. He had then seen Dewitt gesture to one of his subordinates who had snatched some type of can and ran to the closest tree. Circling around it the man could be seen dumping kerosene all over its trunk before splashing what he could upwards onto the lowest branches. With a dry mouth, Whip had watched as a small globe of flame erupted in the night and the man flicked his burning match at the tree causing it to have instantly burst into flame.

  “This will be your whole house if you don’t surrender the spy!” Dewitt’s voice had bellowed with menace.

  Whip had felt rage as the tree had gone up in flames. It was the tree he and Mercedes had carved their names in on the day they had decided to build a house on that spot, the same one they had sat under while under her talented hand she had made sketches of her dream home. It had become the house his love had always wanted, one she had barely gotten to enjoy and now this evil man had just destroyed the long ago loving gesture between the newlyweds they had been.

  "You're going to die for that, rustler! That's me talking to you as a man, not as a judge!" He remembered shouting in fury at the gang leader. Dewitt had ordered the men to unleash a barrage of fire and they had with
enthusiasm. Whip and his men had ducked down as glass exploded in from the shattering windows as holes peppered the panes and splintered the frames, throwing glass and wood splinters everywhere.

  Whip's mind returned to the present as he worked to reload his old rifle that once belonged to Kelly, his late first wife while cursing under his breath.

  “Damn, I wish Cassandra and my other daughters were here!” he groaned.

  “You’re wishing for a passel of women?” Jeb asked, confused. It surely wasn’t something he had heard before.

  “Son, I am assuming you have been deep undercover if you haven’t heard what my daughters can do. Still all and all, even a few more ranch hands would do the trick. Unfortunately, most are away on a cattle drive or left for a night out in Alamieda!” he said.

  He nodded then, starting the pace as both men lunged up at the same time and began firing at the surrounding criminals. It held the criminals back at least and kept them from approaching too close. A silence fell over the ranch house as Whip held up his hand to stop firing. It was his signal to the men that the time had come to put his plan in place for their last stand. Their ammo was running low and he knew Dewitt was shrewd enough to figure out that if they kept them engaged long enough they would eventually be out leaving the men defenseless and as good as dead.

  That was what Whip was counting on. Their best bet would be to make Dewitt's men believe that it was over and that Whip would attempt to surrender and draw them out and then cut down as many of them as possible with their remaining ammo. The best-case scenario was if DeWitt died in the trick, the other men would abandon the cause and withdraw. Even Whip didn't think that was likely to be the case, but it wasn't impossible. His gravest concern about the plan was they had to make it look believable and to do so, Jeb was going to have to go out there with a white flag. Silently Whip left his position by the window and returned a minute later with a silky white scarf that he began to tie to the tip of the old rifle. He hung his head for a brief moment, thinking of the scarf.

  He had given it to Cassandra on her sixteenth birthday. His baby girl, his firstborn. Whip knew that he might never see her again along with the rest of his children. To him, they were all still so young, even Cassandra at thirty-two. It saddened him to think he might not live to his golden years and perhaps see them finally end their adventuresome ways and maybe even some of them would make him a grandfather. Such thoughts were swept from his mind as he became aware that the guns of the outlaws laying siege to the ranch had fallen as silent as their own. No doubt DeWitt was probably deep in discussion with his men as to whether they had run out of ammunition. If there was ever a time to carry this out it was now.

  CHAPTER 16

  * * *

  Judge Wilde locked eyes with Jeb as the federal lawman lay down his pistol and took Kelly’s rifle with the surrender flag on it. Both of them knew the odds. He would have to duck when Whip and his men opened fire, and a sitting duck had a better chance than Jeb if DeWitt or one of his men decided to pick off the lawman as he lay on the ground. It was their only play, and they had to take it. A grim look passed between the two men and Whip slapped him on the shoulder for support, and slowly they made their way to the window. Taking his place on one side of the window, Jeb called out to them.

  "DeWitt! It's me, Jeb! I'm gonna give myself up! But you gotta promise that no harm is going to come to Judge Wilde and his daughter!" Honor, of course, wasn't there but he thought he had nothing to lose by trying to appeal to any shred of decency DeWitt might have deep down inside. In his heart, he knew that it was futile.

  Only a silence broken by the eerie call of a night bird somewhere in the ledges beyond the ranch met Jeb’s cry.

  Shouting again he said, “I’m the one you want! I’m the spy. I’m coming out! I gotta believe you won’t hurt these people! Do what you want with me but leave the Wildes alone! They can’t hurt you! They’ve got no more bullets. Have mercy!”

  He took one last look at Judge Wilde and then stepped through the window, his feet crunching more of the broken glass beneath him. Whip felt one moment of relief that they didn’t cut him down immediately. He looked at his other men giving them the signal to stand ready to unleash all they had if the outlaws made a move to advance on Jeb.

  Slowly Jeb began moving away from the house towards DeWitt’s wagon, he waved the rifle over his head with his good hand signaling his intent to surrender. That was when despair washed over Whip as his plan collapsed in the space of a single heartbeat as he heard the mocking voice of DeWitt call across the lawn, the same peaceful lawn where his little girls held their pretend tea parties growing up. It angered him to his core.

  “Go to hell, fed! There can’t be any witness to what happened here! Blast him, and we’ll storm the house!”

  The silence was shattered by the blasts of multiple guns going off at once as Jeb dove towards a large rectangular planter made of logs which held one of Honor Elizabeth’s flower gardens. It was barely any cover at all as he laid there, bullet after bullet shredding the brightly colored gardenias and other plants Honor had lovingly tended to. Still, it was enough to stop bullets and for that moment that was all that mattered to Jeb.

  Whip's mouth pulled back in a grimace, so much for having a chance to cut down as many of DeWitt's men as possible. They would be making a last stand after all. Outnumbered and outgunned and that was when suddenly, in the light of the moon and the burning cedar tree, he could see a posse charging up both sides of the semi-circular roadway that led up to the ranch house.

  The men at the back of Dewitt’s raiding party felt their flesh shredded by multiple blasts from the lawmen’s guns while the ones at the front found themselves riddled by Whip’s men from the ranch house. It was a classic case of being caught in the crossfire. Only those in the middle stood a chance, but chaos ensued as the criminals had to make split-second decisions in which direction to train their fire. This allowed the lawmen to charge headlong into the midst of the ranch’s attackers, their guns blazing as the syndicate desperately tried to fend off their new enemies that were now among them.

  With the target now off from him, Jeb rose to his knees behind the planter and swept the gun over the frenzied scene before him, looking for one target in particular.

  “You’re finished Dewitt, you fool! That posse’s going to end you for good!” Jeb called out to the man that had been his master only a few hours ago, hoping to get him to lay down his weapons and end the standoff. He didn’t know where DeWitt was or even if he still lived but he had to try.

  "I may be trapped, but you are a two-faced spy, and I am taking you with me!" Dewitt shouted from where he had achieved relative safety behind the thick trunk of one of the towering cedar trees that rose on the Wildes's front yard. From his position, he had a clear shot at Jeb and he pulled the trigger as he whipped out from behind the tree. Jeb's heart nearly stopped as he dodged the shot from the gun, while at the same time raising the loaded "peace flag" and became crestfallen when the old rifle picked that moment of all times to jam. DeWitt was throwing his spent rifle to the side and drawing a pistol. This was it, Jeb knew as behind him the men from Cedar Ledge were still firing at DeWitt's men, unaware of his plight.

  To his astonishment, bursting through the throng of combatants he saw a horse bearing a most familiar woman moving about in the thick of the gun battle heading towards Dewitt and moving with lightning speed. The woman’s horse jumped another of her own planters as she straightened in the saddle and fired her weapon to the right and to the left at DeWitt’s crooked rannies, looking like a war angel on a mission.

  Honor Elizabeth came up in her stirrups and fired at Dewitt, getting his attention away from Jeb. Dewitt dropped back behind the tree for cover as she came sweeping by, firing on more of Dewitt’s men as well. Jeb saw the curly black hair streaming behind her in the moonlight. She made a glorious and distracting image as she swept her mount back around. Honor zigzagged her horse, hunched low, to avoid bullets, but o
ne outlaw—Ramone, he recognized—boldly leaped up from behind the wagon, taking a shooter’s stance, training his gun on the woman, when his forehead suddenly exploded. Looking over his shoulder Jeb saw Whip in the window lowering his gun with a look of relief on his face.

  By this time, Honor Elizabeth had swept around the tree shielding DeWitt with the knife she always kept strapped to her side in her hand and ready to be put to deadly use. DeWitt’s pistol targeted her but he never got to pull the trigger as the flashy blade flew in the air and her aim was true as it buried itself halfway up to its hilt in the fleshy part of DeWitt’s throat. The man clutched at it madly, his eyes bulging in total disbelief even as he was stumbling back against the tree. The head of the U.S. portion of the cross-border crime ring pitched forward driving the knife all the way to its hilt as he hit the ground, dying without uttering a single word. Such was not the case with Honor Elizabeth Wilde.

  “A Wilde always gets her man, one way or another!” she shouted as she continued shooting with the lawmen at the rest of the criminals.

  “Judge, I am beginning to believe you about your daughters,” Jeb called back up to Whip while the posse cleaned up the rest of the syndicate criminals.

  ***

  At the Triple W, the remaining crooks who weren’t dead at the hands of the marshal’s other men were quickly arrested and put in irons by the federal forces. Hours later, far off in his office, the news of the demise of Dewitt and the American end of the operation had not reached Esteban San Cristobel who was going about his business as usual.

  The silence in his office was choking as he stared coldly at one of his men who stood in the center of the room on a sheet. Once again, he was peeling an apple. Somehow, killing always made him hungry, so he prepared the fruit for whenever he was done. He was feeling a little uneasy as well, his gaze shifting absentmindedly to the window. A half of an hour earlier, he had spotted what looked like a flare rise in the sky over the hills beyond his villa. He had dismissed it, not knowing that it was the final signal, following urgent telegraphs to the Mexican authorities that the raid in Alamieda had been carried out and they should green light a similar assault on Esteban’s villa.