A Dream to Call My Own (24 page)
She went to the cupboard and pulled over a small stool Nick had made for her. Stepping up, she reached for the highest shelf and what they’d hidden there. Pulling the revolver from its hiding place, Beth checked to make sure it was loaded. It was.
Clenching her teeth so tightly her jaw ached, Beth stepped down and slipped the gun into her apron pocket. She didn’t know if she could use it when the time came, but she felt better just knowing they would have some recourse.
“I may be silly,” she murmured, “but I’m not stupid.”
“Any sign of Cubby or Lacy?” Hank asked as Nick eased back through the brush.
“No. There’s some light coming from the cabin, though, and Dave’s horse is in the corral. I don’t know how many people are inside, but some riders just came in. Might be the same ones who took out earlier—the ones following Mulholland.”
Hank nodded. “What do you think we should do?”
“I don’t know. If I knew where the others were, I’d feel better. I don’t know if Wyman has them or if they’re out here in the woods somewhere.”
At the sound of shouting, Nick and Hank made their way to the edge of the trees nearest the corral, where several men seemed to be in a heated argument. Wyman Jenkins appeared to be at the center of it.
“Why didn’t you do like I ordered?”
“I’m telling you, there was no way to get a clean shot. Mulholland was already well down the trail, and when we caught up with him, there were too many witnesses around to just kill him.”
“I sent you boys out to do a simple job. You couldn’t even kill one man?” He swore a steady stream of obscenities, then turned to head back to the shack. “I’ve had all I’m gonna take from you. I’m gonna kill Shepard, and then we’ll go deal with Mulholland. Seems like I’ve always got to do everything myself.”
“Wait, boss. There’s more.”
Wyman turned and headed back to the men. “It better be worth my time, or I’m gonna kill you, too.”
As soon as Lacy saw Wyman head for the corral, she knew she had to make her move. She pressed through the brush, wincing as the branches clawed at her face. Tripping over tree roots, Lacy righted herself and steadied her nerves. She couldn’t help but wonder if Cubby was still somewhere near. She wished he would have stayed to help but at the same time was just as glad he’d gone. The last thing she wanted on her conscience was that boy’s injury or death.
The darkness swallowed her up as Lacy made her way to the clearing just behind the cabin. She prayed that no one would see her movements or come to investigate her noisy steps. Hurrying to the back of the structure, she took out her knife and cut away the oilcloth that covered the only window. The ripping sound seemed to echo in the air, and Lacy grimaced. Despite the volume of the men arguing from the front, she couldn’t help but worry that they might somehow hear her actions.
Her hands trembled as she replaced the knife in her boot. Fear gripped her like nothing she’d ever known. She had to make this work. She had to reach Dave and save him. If she couldn’t do this simple thing, she didn’t even want to live. The thought of going on without Dave filled her with anguish. This had to work.
She thought of the verse from Isaiah that Dave had once shared with her. Lacy had never told him how much it meant to her. She’d cherished it so much, in fact, that she’d memorized it to give her strength for just such times.
Fear thou not; for I am
with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee;
yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my
righteousness
.
Lacy glance heavenward. “I’m trying, Lord.”
She looked into the house cautiously and realized this was a small bedroom. It was dark, except for the light that filtered in from the open door to the rest of the cabin. Lacy climbed into the room and crouched down beside the bed. She listened for the sound of Wyman returning but heard nothing except a strange scraping sound.
Edging toward the door, Lacy held her rifle ready for action. She peered into the room and immediately saw Dave, struggling against his bonds. Relief washed over her. She could see well enough by the light of the two lanterns to see that he was bloodied and battered, but he was alive. She threw caution to the wind and hurried into the room. Rushing to his side, she smiled at his look of amazement. She fought back tears as she saw just how much damage had been inflicted on him.
Don’t think about his pain, Lacy. You have to set him free. Think
only about getting him out of here
.
“You seem to always get yourself into these awkward messes, Deputy Shepard.” She shifted the rifle, then bent and pulled the knife from her boot. Sawing at the ropes, she continued, “You look awful.”
“You need to get out of here. Wyman will be back any minute.”
“Let him come. Let them all come. I have plenty of bullets for everyone.”
Dave seemed to choke a bit, and Lacy wasn’t sure if it was laughter or a cry that caused such a sound. “Get out, Lacy.”
“No, we can argue about how unladylike this is later,” she said, frustrated that the rope didn’t cut easier. “I love you.”
“Well, it took you long enough to figure it out.”
She shrugged as the last bit of rope gave way. “Sometimes a girl has to be careful.”
He smiled, but it only served to cause his split lip to start bleeding. As she began to wipe away the blood, the door flew open with a resounding bang. Wyman stalked in, muttering. He stopped midstep, however, when he caught sight of Lacy. For a moment he seemed too surprised to move. This gave Lacy time to reposition her rifle, but Wyman wasn’t deterred. He pulled out his revolver nearly as fast.
“So you’ve come to die with your fiancé?”
“No,” Lacy countered. “I’ve come to free him. You need to put down your gun, Wyman.”
He laughed. “Or what? You gonna shoot me, little girl?” He sneered and took a step forward.
Lacy felt Dave stiffen at her side. She longed to pass him the rifle but knew there wasn’t time. “I’ll do what I have to do, Wyman. You know me well enough to understand that much.”
“You know, that’s the trouble with you Gallatins. You just don’t know when to leave well enough alone. Still, I don’t think you got it in you to kill.”
“Unlike you, Wyman,” Dave interjected. “You’ve killed plenty and seem quite proud of it. Why don’t you tell Lacy about how you killed her father?”
Lacy looked at Dave for a moment, then quickly returned her focus to Wyman. She felt her grip tighten on the rifle. “You?”
His dark eyes narrowed as he smiled. “I s’pose there’s no harm in admittin’ it. After all, you’re both gonna die.”
Lacy thought of poor Adam, bearing the guilt of killing a man by accident, when all the time it had been Wyman’s doing. What if she had chosen not to forgive Adam?
I could have told
him he didn’t deserve forgiveness—then let him die
. The very thought pierced her to the core.
“So now you know. I killed your pa.” He laughed. “It wasn’t like it was all that hard to do.” He seemed almost pleased to share this with her.
Lacy shook away her confused jumble of thoughts. “Why?” She couldn’t say another word. This was the murdering fiend who’d killed her father. This was the man she’d searched to find for over two years, while everyone around her condemned her for believing the death to be more than an accident.
“Why? Because I was paid to do it. Rafe wanted to buy your pa out, and he wouldn’t budge.” Wyman motioned at her with the gun. “Now put that rifle down, or I’ll put a bullet in the good deputy’s head. You might shoot me if you have the courage to actually pull the trigger, but I’ll kill him first.” His face contorted and took on an expression of pure evil. “And I’ll enjoy every minute of watchin’ him die.”
Lacy frowned. She’d never considered this possibility. The rifle grew heavy in her hands.
“Don’t listen to him, Lacy. He’ll kill us both anyway. At least this way, you have a chance.”
“He’s wrong about that. My boys are back, and as soon as they hear this ruckus, they’ll come running.” Wyman cocked back the hammer. “Time to die, Deputy.”
Lacy couldn’t bear it. She threw herself between Dave and Wyman just as the sound of a shot fired. Lacy waited for a burning pain but felt nothing but Dave’s hands holding tight to her arms. He pulled her against him.
Oh, God,
she prayed,
please don’t let him die. Don’t let Dave
be hit.
He breathed her name almost mournfully. “Don’t die, Lacy.” He held her with more strength than she’d imagined him capable of in his injured state.
She pushed against him and straightened. “I’m not hurt. Are you?”
They turned to see Wyman fall to his knees. He looked at Lacy with dark, lifeless eyes and crumpled to the ground. To her surprise, Cubby entered the door, his revolver still aimed at the dead man.
His expression was pained. “I told you I could take care of him,” he whispered. Cubby looked back at Wyman’s body. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Dave assisted Lacy to her feet then stood. “He is, thanks to you.”
Cubby blew out a breath and looked at his gun as if seeing it there in his hands for the first time. “Guess I’ll be going to prison for murder.” He looked at the revolver for a moment more, then handed it toward Dave.
“Hardly,” Dave said, wincing. “You saved our lives. Keep your gun. You’re a hero.”
This seemed to surprise Cubby. He looked to Lacy. “I know how you feel about me—how you can’t love me—but I just want you to know . . . I did this for you.” He slowly put the revolver back in his holster.
Lacy went to him and took hold of his hand. Drawing it to her cheek, she smiled. “I know you did, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“Is everyone all right in here?” Hank asked. Nick followed him into the room.
“We’re all in one piece—except for Wyman,” Dave said, kneeling beside the dead man. “Cubby saved Lacy and me.”
“We saw. We were at the corral tying up the others.”
“You got them all, then?” Dave asked.
Nick gave a nod of satisfaction. “Yeah. They’re not going anywhere.”
Lacy stepped away from Cubby and watched as Dave checked for any sign of life in Wyman. It was clear the man was gone, but Dave was doing his duty.
Hank came to Lacy and took hold of her. “Are you hurt?”
“No. Tired. And I was pretty scared, but I guess that has passed.”
Chuckling, Hank pulled her into an embrace and kissed the top of her head. “You ought to be terrified still. Your sisters are going to have plenty to say about this escapade. You’ll be lucky if they let you out of your room for a month.”
Lacy pulled away. “They know about all this?”
“Most of it, anyway.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Maybe I should just get on my horse and keep riding.”
The men laughed, but it was Nick who took hold of Lacy’s arm. “Oh no. You are going back to face the music. That way, we won’t have to. With Beth and Gwen focused on their little sister, we men can slip off to bed and get a good night’s sleep.” He pulled her into his arms, then threw her over his shoulder. “Hank, we’d better tie her up, too.”
Lacy looked over Nick’s back at Dave. “Are you just going to let them take me away?”
Just a hint of a smile lingered on Dave’s face. “Only until I recover from this beating. I’m too tired and sore to hunt you down.”
After Marie let him in the saloon, Mulholland poured himself a drink and considered the turn of events. He was glad Marie had left him alone. He needed time to think without her tears and questions. With Rafe out of the picture, he could take over Gallatin Crossing. Wyman wouldn’t be any problem. He’d see to that. He already had it figured how he would pin Wyman with Dave Shepard’s death. The men who worked for Rafe could easily be paid off to testify against Wyman. Mulholland would offer them enough money to swear the entire thing was Wyman and Rafe’s plan.
Smiling, Jefferson Mulholland began to plan for the future. He and Rafe had made a small fortune swindling the good folks of Gallatin Crossing. The Gallatin gals and their men would be out of his hair by September, and the entire place would be left in his care. But then another thought came to mind. What if Big John had already talked to the authorities? What if he’d incriminated Jefferson in all that had taken place? After all, he knew about the fake gold rush. What else did he know?
Mulholland toyed with his glass. That could prove to be a worrisome problem. Wyman might not be able to get Dave Shepard to talk—or if he talked, he might not be completely honest. He thought about this for several minutes. The only way to ensure his safety was to move on. Pity, when there was such a great opportunity right here.
“But I can’t take a chance,” he said aloud. He put the glass aside and got to his feet. He would have to pack quickly and leave. He wasn’t at all sure where he should go, however. He could ride his horse south, maybe go to Virginia City and farther on to catch the train to California. His brother had often talked of how they should venture west.
Heading to his room, Jefferson was surprised when Marie stepped out of the shadows. “Where are you going?” she asked.
He gave a shrug. “I figure with Rafe gone, there’s nothing to hold me here.”
“I thought you were his friend.”
“I was.”
She put her hands on her hips. “So you’ll leave, just like that. You won’t even wait for his burial?”
Jefferson laughed and pushed her aside. He went into his small room and took the saddlebags from under the bed. Tossing them atop the quilt, he opened them and turned to the small dresser. “Rafe was never one for standing on ceremony,” he told Marie, who was now standing in the doorway. “He’s not going to care whether I’m there or not. All that mattered to Rafe was whether a person was there for him in life.”
“But what about his boy? What about us?”
He looked at her oddly. “What about you?”
“What’s going to happen to the business?”
Shrugging, Jefferson threw all of his worldly goods into the saddlebags. “How should I know? I tried to get Rafe to make me a full partner, but he had no desire to let me in on everything. Said he needed to keep some things private.” Mulhol-land laughed. “Guess they’re good and private now. By law, I suppose Cubby will inherit Rafe’s properties. Unless Rafe had some other agreement—maybe sold Wyman a percentage of the place. Hard to say.”
“But that doesn’t help me at all.” Marie’s expression was one of pure confusion. “I still don’t know what’s to become of me.”
Mulholland had no time or patience for the woman’s concerns. “You’re just another piece of property, as far as I’m concerned, Marie. You’ll probably be sold with the place.”
She spit, and it barely missed Jefferson’s highly polished shoes. He narrowed his eyes. “I’d be careful if I were you.”
“You don’t care about Rafe. You never did. You just used him.”
“We used each other mutually.” Mulholland crossed to the far side of the room and knelt. Marie watched as he pried open a floorboard and took out several bags. “Makes a pretty good vault, wouldn’t you say?”
“Is that Rafe’s money?”
“No. This is mine, fair and square. We divided it up. I have no idea where Rafe kept his fortune, nor do I care.”
“You’re a heartless man.” A tear spilled down her cheek.
Jefferson shoved his bags of money into the saddlebags and buckled the straps. He turned to face Marie. “That I am.”