Defiant (8 page)

Moving away from the crowd, Clint went to the stable. He could lose no time before riding out to start tracking the would-be stage robbers. He had to find out if this was the Tucker Gang. This aborted robbery didn’t sound like the work of the deadly gang, but he had to be sure. He rather hoped it was them, for then he would know he
wasn’t wasting his time and that he was on the right track.

Clint got his horse, then returned to the hotel to gather up his things. When he rode out of town a short time later, he was surprised to find that Sheriff Reynolds still hadn’t gotten his posse organized. In a way, he was glad. The longer the lawman took, the more time he had to check things out on his own.

Clint rode to the site of the attack and found the outlaws’ trail much more easily than he’d expected. It was getting late as he started after them. He made sure to cover his own tracks, for he didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing. He was puzzled, though, by the fact that he still hadn’t seen any sign of the posse. He wondered why it was taking the sheriff so long to get organized.

When darkness finally claimed the land, Clint made camp reluctantly. He slept little. The prospect of possibly being so close to the killers left him restless and anxious for the new day to dawn.

At first light, Clint was on the trail again. He believed he was making good progress, and then at noon he made a gruesome discovery. Wrapped in a blanket, lying in the brush, was the body of one of the gunmen.

Clint didn’t recognize the man. He wasn’t anyone he’d seen on the wanted posters. He checked the body for some kind of identification, but found nothing. He considered burying him, but
decided against it. He left the body where he’d found it, knowing the sheriff was in pursuit and would want a look at the dead man, too.

The previous day, Clint had thought he’d had a chance of closing in on the outlaws, but now, unburdened by their wounded, dying partner, the two remaining outlaws were able to travel much faster. Still, Clint didn’t give up.

As the day aged, Clint noticed threatening clouds beginning to gather on the horizon. He concentrated on his tracking, trying to cover as much ground as he could and hoping the bad weather would pass over him. But just at dusk, a heavy downpour started up. Before long it was scouring the land.

Clint sought what shelter he could find in a rocky outcropping and passed a miserable night. He feared the trail would be lost because of the rain, and the following morning he discovered that it had, indeed, been washed away. Disgusted, he went over the area carefully, searching for some clue to the direction in which they’d ridden. His search proved useless.

Disappointed, but knowing there was no point in trying to find something that wasn’t there, Clint decided to ride for town. He took a different, more circuitous route, for he didn’t want to risk running into the posse.

It was late in the day when word of the posse’s unexpected early return spread through the town. A crowd began to gather in front of the
sheriff’s office, anxious to learn what had happened. Since the posse had returned so quickly, the townsfolk expected to find that Sheriff Reynolds had caught the outlaws and brought them in.

Eve was at the general store with Jacob when they heard someone outside shouting the news.

“Gramma! We gotta go see what happened! We gotta go find out if they got them!” Jacob insisted, grabbing her hand to draw her from the store.

“We’ll be back,” Eve called out to the shopkeeper as she left with Jacob.

They were hurrying down the street to join the others when Jacob saw Rachel and her mother come out of another shop.

“Miss Rachel!” Jacob hollered. He let go of his grandmother’s hand to run over to speak with her. “They’re back!”

“Hi, Jacob,” Rachel said warmly, then asked, “Who’s back?”

She looked up at Eve, who’d finally caught up with him.

“The sheriff and the posse!” Jacob explained.

“Already?” Rachel’s eyes widened at the news. She was impressed that Pete had caught up with and arrested the outlaws so quickly. “That was fast work.”

“I know. I couldn’t believe it either,” Eve said. “That’s why we’re going over to the jail. I want to find out what happened.”

“We’ll go, too,” Anne said. She wanted to know
for sure that the gunmen were under arrest and wouldn’t be a threat to the community anymore.

They joined the crowd waiting in front of the jail for Sheriff Reynolds to come outside and let them know what had happened. It wasn’t long before he appeared.

“I see you heard we were back,” Pete began.

“How did it go? Did you get them all, Sheriff?” someone called out.

“We tracked the outlaws for almost a full day, and then we found a body on the trail. The man had been shot several times.”

At the sheriff’s announcement, Jacob looked up at Rachel, his eyes wide. “Do you think he’s the one you shot, Miss Rachel?”

At Jacob’s question, almost everyone in the crowd turned to look at Rachel.

“I—I don’t know.” She was horrified to think she might actually have killed someone.

Anne reached out to her daughter and took her hand supportively. She could well imagine what Rachel was going through.

“What about the rest of the gang?” another man asked.

Pete looked out at the townsfolk and told them, “They got away.”

“What do you mean, they got away!” the man demanded. “Why didn’t you stay after them?”

Pete turned a cold-eyed glare on the man who’d dared to criticize his decision to call off his pursuit of the outlaws. “Whoever these gunmen
were, they hadn’t succeeded in robbing the stage and they’d lost one of their men.”

“But they shot Hank!”

“Yes, they did, but it was only a flesh wound, and he’s going to make a full recovery.”

“You should have kept after them!”

“You should have brought them in!”

Pete was getting angry with their demands. “I didn’t want to put the posse at risk, chasing down a couple of worthless outlaws. And besides, a storm was brewing. I figured it would wash the trail out on us even if we did stay after them.”

“But who’s to say they won’t come back? Who’s to say they won’t try again?” someone asked, frightened that the gunmen were still on the loose.

“They’re long gone,” Pete told them.

“How can you be sure?” another challenged him.

“I’m sure. Things are back to normal now. You can go on about your business. Everything will be fine.”

Summarily dismissed, the uneasy crowd disbanded. They weren’t happy with the lawman’s decision not to try to bring in the gunmen, but there was nothing they could do about it.

“What’s he gonna do, Gramma? Is the sheriff going back out after them again?” Jacob asked, confused.

“No, darling. Sheriff Reynolds thinks the bad men are gone and they won’t be back.”

“Good. I’m glad,” he replied, sighing in relief
as he followed his grandmother back to the General Store.

Anne could tell Rachel was upset, so they went straight home. They didn’t speak until they were inside the house. Only then did Anne embrace her daughter.

Rachel had tried to be strong on the walk home, but now, wrapped in the safety of her mother’s arms, she gave in to the torment that filled her soul.

“What if I did shoot him?” she asked tearfully. “What if I was the one who killed him?”

Anne kissed Rachel’s cheek and hugged her even tighter. “We will never know whose bullet killed the outlaw, and it doesn’t matter. He was trying to kill you.”

“I know, but—”

“What matters is you’re safe. Think what would have happened if you hadn’t been able to defend yourself.”

“But Papa always says—”

“Rachel.” Anne’s voice grew stern as she drew back to look her daughter straight in the eye. She knew her husband always preached love, not hate. Peace, not violence. But Rachel’s very life had been at stake. “What you did was very brave. You acted in self-defense, and in doing so, you not only saved your own life but you helped to save Eve and Jacob and Joe and Hank, too. I’m proud of you, darling. Never doubt that for a moment.”

“You are?”

“Yes. I am.”

Anne gave her another hug, and then Rachel went upstairs to her bedroom to be alone for a while. It had been one thing to know she’d fired the gun at someone. It was another to learn that that person had died from gunshot wounds.

Rachel lay on her bed and buried her face in her pillow as memories of that horrifying day threatened to overwhelm her. She remembered the danger they’d faced as the would-be robbers fired on them, and how terrified she’d been that young Jacob or Eve might be shot.

Rachel drew a shuddering breath as she fought to control her runaway emotions. It was a terrible truth, but she finally accepted that her mother had been right. If she hadn’t taken the gun with her on that fateful trip and been brave enough to use it, they might all have been killed.

It took a while, but Rachel finally managed to find some peace deep within herself. She prayed she would never find herself in a situation like that again.

Chapter Eight

As Clint rode slowly back into Dry Springs, he noticed some kind of activity going on at the far end of town. It looked like a fair or picnic of some kind, but other than that, nothing seemed to have changed during his absence. Riding to the stable, he left his horse there, then went to the hotel.

“Nice to have you back, Mr. McCullough,” Mr. Lofton said as he gave him a room key. “Will you be staying with us long?”

“I’ll be here for at least a few more days,” Clint answered.

“Good. Make sure you visit the Festival,” he encouraged. “We have it every year, and it’s going on right now. There’s a dance later on tonight, too.”

“So that’s what all the excitement is about. I saw the crowd and wondered what the attraction was.”

“Folks come from miles around.”

“So why aren’t you down there?” Clint asked with a grin.

“Somebody’s got to take care of business.”

“I guess that’s right.”

He went up to his room and dropped off his things before heading over to the Last Chance. He was surprised to find that the saloon was quiet. Since it was late Saturday afternoon and the Festival was going on, he’d expected it to be busy.

“Where is everybody?” Clint asked Trey as he walked up to the bar.

“At the picnic. Business will pick up later once the dancing starts. It always does,” Trey told him. “Where’ve you been these last few days?”

“I had some business I had to take care of. How’ve you been? Has the preacher man been back to give you any more trouble?” he asked with an easy smile, wanting to direct their conversation away from himself.

“No, it’s been nice and peaceful around here, just the way I like it.”

“Some days are better than others.”

“What’ll it be?”

“Whiskey.”

Trey poured him a healthy drink in a tumbler and slid it across the bar to him.

“Have you heard anything new on the attempted stage robbery? Has there been any word back from the posse?” Clint asked as he paid the bartender and picked up the glass to take a drink.

“Sheriff Reynolds and the posse rode back in yesterday,” Trey said.

“They’re back already?” Clint was honestly surprised by the news, but he was careful to hide his reaction. Even taking the longer return route
that he had used, he’d expected to beat the posse back to town. Since the storm hadn’t moved in their direction and they still had a trail to follow, he wondered why they’d called off their pursuit of the gunmen so soon.

“Yeah, they’re back, and they brought one of the ‘good’ outlaws with them.”

“I didn’t know there were any ‘good’ outlaws.” Clint frowned, wondering what the other man meant.

“There are. They’re the dead ones.”

“Oh. What about the rest of the gang? Did the sheriff have any luck finding them?”

“No. They got clean away.”

“Does anyone know who the dead outlaw was?”

“Not right off. Sheriff Reynolds said he was going to do some checking to see if he could find out.”

“What’s he saying about the gunmen? Does he think they’ll be back?”

“The sheriff seems to think they’re long gone.” Trey shrugged. “And I hope he’s right. We don’t need their kind around here causing trouble.”

“I’m with you on that,” Clint agreed.

Picking up his drink, he made his way to a table in the back of the saloon. He settled in to relax for a few minutes and try to figure out what to do next.

It didn’t take him long to make up his mind. He decided to sit tight and wait a few more days to see if Tucker would show up. In the meantime,
he was going to find the people who’d been on the stage and talk to them. He hoped to find out if they’d noticed anything unusual about the outlaws. He figured the stage driver was probably off on another run by now, so he decided to go to the Festival and look for the man named Hank who’d been riding shotgun—and Rachel.

Something stirred deep within Clint at the thought of seeing the innocent beauty again.

He forced the feeling from him.

He was going after information on the would-be robbers.

That was all.

Finishing his drink, Clint left the saloon and returned to the hotel. After three days of hard riding, he needed to get cleaned up before going to the Festival.

The Dry Springs Annual Festival was in full swing. There were booths and games and refreshments. Folks had come from all over to enjoy themselves.

“Who are you looking for?” Michelle asked Rachel as they stopped at one of the game booths. She’d noticed how her friend had been searching the crowd ever since they’d arrived.

“Oh, nobody.”

“I know you better than that. Who are you hoping to see?”

Rachel knew there was no way she could keep anything from her best friend. Michelle knew her too well. “I was looking for Kane McCullough. I
haven’t seen him since I went to San Ramon with Eve, and I thought he might be here today. Have you talked to him at the hotel lately?”

Michelle hated to be the bearer of bad news, but she had to tell the truth. “No. In fact, he checked out a few days ago and left town.”