Defiant (15 page)

“It must be terrible to be a minister and know your daughter has sinned this way—and so openly,” the matronly Catherine Lawrence put in, her tone condemning. “I mean, Rachel spent the entire night alone with that man!”

“Reverend Hammond should have insisted Kane McCullough marry her that very day. It’s only right, after what he’s done to her reputation,” Mary Ann insisted righteously.

“But Andrew says he heard from the sheriff that McCullough is a gunslinger with a terrible reputation!” Catherine confided, repeating what her husband had learned. “What father in his right mind would want his daughter to marry someone like him?”

“How did Sheriff Reynolds find that out about him?” Helen asked.

“Lawmen have ways,” Mary Ann said with confidence, not doubting for a moment that it was true. “And Sheriff Reynolds has never given us any reason to doubt him.”

“That’s true enough,” Catherine agreed. “But even if McCullough is a gunman, heaven only knows what went on between the two of them out there overnight.”

“I doubt ‘heaven’ had anything to do with it, Catherine,” Mary Ann said snidely.

“You know, it could be that everything happened just the way Rachel said it did,” Helen said in defense of the young woman, tired of the other women’s ugly insinuations. She’d known Rachel for most of her life and knew she was upstanding and kind. “That was a terrible storm.”

“But they could have made it back,” Catherine insisted. “They didn’t have to stay in that cabin all night!”

“What’s her mother have to say about what happened?” Mary Ann asked.

“I haven’t spoken with Anne about it yet,” Helen said.

“What could she say?” Catherine sneered. “ ‘My daughter’s nothing but a—’ ”

“Catherine!” Helen cut her off.

Anne appreciated Helen’s attempt to defend Rachel, but she had heard enough. She glanced toward the shopkeeper, who was standing behind the counter looking a bit ashamed, then turned and walked out without saying a word.

Anne was in shock and deeply hurt by the women’s vicious comments. Rachel could have been injured or even killed in the storm, and yet the hateful gossips were only concerned with spreading stories that were blatantly cruel and untrue. Only Helen had defended Rachel. Only Helen had been a loving friend.

Anne fought back tears as she made her way toward church. She knew Martin was working in his office there, and she had to tell him what she’d just heard. She didn’t know how much truth there was to the talk about Kane’s reputation, but they had to find out—for Rachel’s sake.

Martin was at his desk in his small office when Anne came in. He looked up in surprise to find her there.

“Anne—what’s wrong?” He got up and went to her, noting her distress.

“I just heard some ladies talking in the General Store”—she paused and looked up at him, all the
pain she was feeling reflected in her eyes—“about Rachel.”

Martin stiffened, sensing what was coming. He helped her to sit down in the chair in front of the desk. “What did they say?”

Anne repeated what she remembered about their conversation and then added, “Catherine said her husband had talked to Sheriff Reynolds and found out McCullough was a gunslinger with a really bad reputation.”

Martin was scowling as he listened to her. He had never had any use or respect for gossips, and what Anne was telling him just conformed his opinion. He thought of Kane and realized he hadn’t seen him for a few days. He hadn’t thought anything of it. He’d believed Kane was a good man who’d had business of his own to take care of, but if he was a deadly gunfighter as they were saying . . . Where had he gone and what was he doing? Martin knew a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m going to speak with Sheriff Reynolds,” Martin told Anne. “You go on home. I’ll see you there later.”

“You don’t want me to go with you?” she offered.

“No.” He was firm.

Once Anne had gone, Martin went straight to the sheriff’s office. He was glad to find the lawman there.

“Reverend Hammond—” Pete sounded surprised when he saw him coming in the door.

“I have to talk to you, Sheriff.”

Pete noted the preacher’s serious demeanor and wondered at it. “Of course, have a seat. What can I do for you?”

“My wife has been hearing gossip around town about Rachel and Kane McCullough—and it’s getting ugly.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need for you to be sorry. It has nothing to do with you. I just need to know something.”

“What?”

“Anne heard one of the ladies mention that Kane McCullough has a very bad reputation. Is that true?” He was tense as he awaited Pete’s answer.

“I did some checking into his background, and what I found out wasn’t good.”

“What did you learn?”

“McCullough is a hired gun. His reputation is well known across the state, and it’s a deadly one. He’s a killer for hire,” Pete told him.

Martin had never thought of Kane as a cold-blooded killer. “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” he answered.

Martin’s distress over the revelation was obvious. “Rachel insists that Kane saved her that night and that he was a gentleman during the time they spent together.”

“I can only tell you what I know, Reverend. A man with a reputation like McCullough’s can be trouble. The word is out on the street about him
now, and, as you’ve found out, people are prone to talk.”

“But this is Rachel they’re talking about! This is my daughter!” he protested, confused by the narrow-minded opinions of some townsfolk.

“I know,” Pete said, his tone sympathetic. “It’s a difficult situation for you.”

Martin drew upon his faith to respond. “Those who are saying these things should remember the admonition ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.’ ”

Pete said nothing more as he watched the reverend leave the office.

Martin stepped outside into the sunshine, but he didn’t notice his surroundings. He was too troubled by what he’d learned. He knew in his heart that nothing indecent had happened between Rachel and Kane when they’d been alone, and he didn’t understand why some people were being so critical of her. He would defend his daughter’s innocence always, and he wondered why Pete hadn’t been more outspoken in his support of Rachel and her reputation.

Martin considered the situation as he made his way back to the church. Faced with this savage gossip, should he seek McCullough out and insist he marry Rachel, or should he let her life be ruined by the hate-filled talk going around? The thought of Rachel being married to a man who was known as a deadly gunman tortured him, and he was at a loss.

When he reached the church, Martin didn’t go
to his office. Instead, he went inside and sat down in a pew to pray for wisdom and guidance.

Right then, he needed all the help he could get.

Pete remained seated at his desk for a time after Reverend Hammond left. He was lost in thought as he considered the ugliness of Rachel’s situation. Rachel was definitely one good-looking woman, and he did want her—there was no doubt about that. Just watching her dance with McCullough the other night had made him angry. He’d planned all along that she would ultimately be his. The prospect of marrying the preacher’s daughter had been perfect, but now, Rachel had spent the night alone with another man.

For a fleeting moment, Pete considered stepping up and offering to marry Rachel to save her reputation, but he quickly dismissed the idea. The thought of her alone with the gunslinger, the image of the other man’s hands upon her, disgusted him. Desire Rachel though he did, he knew that if he were to marry her, every time he looked at her he would be thinking of her with McCullough, and he didn’t need that in his life.

Pete got up and left the office. He wanted to walk off some of his frustration and anger. He was just passing of the saloons when a drunk staggered out and ran into him. Pete reacted violently. He shoved the man to the ground and stood over him, his hand on his gun, glaring down at him threateningly.

“What the hell are you doing?” Pete demanded.

“I wasn’t doing nothing, Sheriff—honest.” the man said in a slurred voice.

“Get up and get out of here!” Pete ordered.

The drunk scrambled to get up, but just as he had almost regained his feet, Pete deliberately kicked him and knocked him back down. The man sprawled face first in the dirt.

Pete’s anger eased a little as he turned and stalked away. He didn’t pay any attention to those in the bar who’d been watching him. He didn’t care what they thought. Dry Springs was his town, and he would run it his way.

Chapter Fifteen

It was late afternoon when Clint returned to Dry Springs. The trip had been long and uneventful. He was hot and tired, so he decided to have a drink before going to the hotel. After leaving his horse at the stable, he went to the Last Chance to relax for a while.

“McCullough, you’re back,” Trey greeted him as he walked in. “The usual?”

“That’ll be fine.”

The bartender poured him a whiskey and set it in front of him.

Clint paid him and took a drink.

“Didn’t know if we’d be seeing you again or not,” Trey said, noticing how some patrons were eyeing McCullough with open interest.

“I just couldn’t stay away,” Clint remarked.

“No wonder,” a drunk seated at a nearby table muttered, loud enough for Clint to hear.

“What?” Clint looked over at him and noticed that Ed was seated with the man.

“It’s no wonder you couldn’t stay away, with that sweet piece you got waiting for you,” the drunk chuckled.

“Yeah,” Ed put in as he looked at Clint. “I only touched the preacher’s daughter right here in front of everybody, but, damn, McCullough, you got to bang her for a whole night!”

Clint went rigid at Ed’s words. He stalked over to the table to confront the two men. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” Ed sneered. “Everybody knows what you did to Rachel. Preacher’s daughter or not, everybody knows she ain’t nothing but your whore.”

Clint reacted so quickly to the insult to Rachel that Ed had no chance to react. Dragging him up out of his chair, Clint hit him as hard as he could, and Ed collapsed unconscious on the floor.

The other drunk decided to join the fight. He threw a hard punch at him, but Clint was ready for him. They grappled savagely, both landing harsh blows.

“Somebody get the sheriff!” Trey yelled as he watched the fight. He had no doubt McCullough was going to win. The other man was no match for him, but he didn’t want the Last Chance wrecked in the meantime.

Nick was just down the street making his rounds when he saw a man come running out of the Last Chance.

“Deputy Evans! We got trouble!”

Nick ran to the saloon, his gun drawn.

“We got a big fight going!”

Nick charged inside just as two more men in the bar decided to join in the melee. Chairs were being thrown, and the fighting was out of control.

Nick noticed right away that Kane was in the middle of it. He didn’t know what had started the fight, but he was going to put an end to it.

“Stop right now!” Nick ordered, grabbing one of the drunks and shoving him out of the way.

The man fell, but staggered to his feet to rejoin the fight.

Clint was holding his own as he fought fiercely to defend Rachel’s name.

Nick didn’t know what had started the fight, and he realized he would not be able to break it up on his own. He fired one shot at the ceiling.

At the sound of the gunshot so close at hand, the drunks immediately froze.

Clint was surprised by the gunshot, and even more surprised when the fighting stopped. He was ready to keep at it. Tense and ready for more, he quickly looked around at the drunks cowering before the deputy.

“It’s over!” Nick commanded, staring down the drunks.

“The preacher’s daughter is nothing but a whore,” one of the drunks muttered under his breath.

Clint heard the man’s remark and was ready to go after him again.

Nick heard him, too, and anticipated what McCullough would do. Nick reacted quickly. He
grabbed Kane forcefully by the shoulder and ordered, “Don’t do it.”

Nick had heard of Kane McCullough’s reputation as a gunfighter from Pete, and he was afraid that this fight might turn into a bloodbath if he didn’t get things under control. He knew he had to stop it now.

Clint was ready to throw off the deputy’s restraint, but he backed down—for now. He had no argument with the lawman.

The drunks had been terrified that Kane would manage to get away from Deputy Evans, but once they were sure Nick had him under control, they turned away to nurse their own injuries.

“Who started this?” Nick demanded.

“He did!” one of the drunks shouted, pointing at Kane. “He hit Ed first!”

“Why? What did Ed do?”

“Ed didn’t do nothing. He was just telling the truth about the preacher’s daughter.”

Clint glared at the man, more than ready to take up where he’d left off.

Nick immediately understood what had set Kane off.

“All right,” Nick said, looking at Kane intensely, then nodding toward the door. “Let’s go. Let’s get out of here.”

Clint bent down to pick up his hat, which had been lost during the fight, then cast one last look at Ed, who was just beginning to stir where he lay on the floor. Clint could see an ugly bruise already forming on the side of Ed’s face, and he
was satisfied that Ed would be reminded of their encounter every time he looked in a mirror for some time to come. Clint turned and walked out of the saloon ahead of the deputy.

Nick followed him outside. Only then did he feel comfortable enough to holster his gun.

“Just keep moving,” he directed Kane, pointing down the street in the direction of the sheriff’s office.

“Am I under arrest?” Clint challenged.

For a moment, the two men stared each other down.

Nick knew that at any time during the fight, Kane could have drawn his gun and shot up the place, but he hadn’t. If Pete had been here, he probably would have arrested him, but Nick decided against it. He’d heard the drunk’s last remark and had a good idea what had set the fight off.