Give My Love to Rose (23 page)

Another twig snapped and Marston’s head
snapped to the right to discover that the source of the sound was
nothing but a few deer grazing at the edge of the woods. He let out
his breath and holstered his knife.

Venison would make a real nice addition to
the smokehouse and Marston could use the hide to make a hat and
gloves for Langley. Once he lined them with rabbit fur, Langley
would have the warmest head and hands in the state.

The deer disappeared into the trees and
Marston walked back in the cabin. He went to Langley’s bedroom door
and quietly pushed it open. “Hey kid?” he whispered.

Langley groaned. “What?” he mumbled from
beneath the covers.

“
I saw some deer. Why
don’t you get dressed and come hunting with me?”

“
Really?!” Langley was
hopping out of the bed instantly. “Yeah! That sounds
fun!”

Marston’s eyes narrowed. “Quiet now,” he
scolded. “You’ll wake your mama and she needs to rest.”

Langley’ grin turned guilty. “Sorry. I’ve
never been hunting. Is it fun? Can I shoot the deer?”

“
Do you even know how to
aim a big rifle?” Marston questioned.

Langley laughed. “No, but that didn’t stop
me from shooting you.”

Marston grumbled under his breath but found
his lips twitching as he left the boy to get dressed.

He made his way to the sofa where his gun
belt was resting. That sofa was still serving as his bed each night
much to the displeasure of his back and another vital part of his
anatomy. He wanted Rose more than he had ever wanted any other
woman. He longed to hold her against him skin on skin and bury
himself so deep in her scent he could never rid himself of it.

But Marston wasn’t going to push her. He
could only hope that eventually she would trust him enough to
invite him in.

Marston was fastening on his gun belt when
Langley emerged from his bedroom dressed and ready to go. Marston
pulled some paper and a pencil from a drawer beside the door and
jotted down a quick note to Rose letting her know they’d gone
hunting.

He checked the rifle to ensure it was loaded
and smiled over at Langley. “You ready, kid?”

Langley bounced out the door. “Sure am!”

Marston was laughing as he grabbed his coat
off the hook and followed the boy outside.

***

“
Are we ever gonna see
some deers? I want to see a deer.”

“
What did I tell you was
the first rule of hunting?” Marston grumbled as they hid among the
trees beside a well-used game trail.

“
To be quiet,” Langley
replied, clearly proud that he’d remembered.

Marston’s gaze became pointed.
“Exactly.”

Langley flashed a guilty grin and began to
chew his lip. They sat there for a while longer in silence before
Marston finally began to hear a rustling in the dead leaves on the
forest floor.

Langley’s eyes were wide as he looked at
Marston questioningly. When Marston nodded, Langley nearly leaped
with excitement. Marston laid the rifle in Langley’s hands and
showed him how to hold it to his shoulder. The deer entered the
slight clearing and Marston could feel Langley trembling with
excitement as he pulled the bolt back and readied a shell.

“
Do you see that doc? The
third one back?” Marston whispered close to Langley’s
ear.

“
Yessir.”

“
She’s the one we want.
Her meat will be real good.”

“
Okay,” Langley’s voice
was shaking as Marston released the gun and allowed Langley hold
the weapon on his own.

“
Now, you wait until you
feel like you’re ready, keep the gun tight to your shoulders, put
them sights right behind her shoulder and squeeze the trigger good
and slow.”

Marston realized that he was just as excited
and nervous as the boy was. Langley licked his lips and focused on
the deer. The sound of the gunshot reverberated through the early
dawn air causing birds to take flight and the deer to jump.

Marston realized that Langley had hit the
doe but not lethally. Not wanting to miss out on the meat, Marston
drew his revolver and fired off a shot, blowing out the doe’s lungs
and heart.

“
Did I do okay?” Langley
asked as the deer fell dead to the ground.

“
You did real good, kid,”
Marston assured him. “After a few lessons you’ll be as good a shot
as me.”

“
You’re just saying that,”
Langley grumbled as Marston led him to the deer.

Marston simply shrugged and took out his
knife. “What are you doing?” Langley asked. “We already killed
her.”

“
Yeah, but now we gotta
cut her guts out before we take her home. We’ll leave them here and
some critter will come along and have a nice meal.”

Langley nodded but when Marston slid his
knife into the doe’s belly and slid the blade up, he noticed that
Langley paled and turned his head. “You gotta get used to seeing
this, kid. Meat has to be gathered somehow and you might not always
have a neighbor that’ll slaughtered a cow to see you have
meat.”

Langley grumbled under his breath but turned
his gaze back to the deer, his skin taking on a green hue. Marston
finished with his task before wiping his knife off in the grass and
tossing the gutted doe over his shoulders.

Marston felt warm blood running down the
back of his shirt and he knew he’d be blood soaked by the time they
returned to the cabin. He glanced down at the front of himself and
realized he had the substance splattered across his front as well.
He hoped Rose wasn’t squeamish.

“
Let’s get her home now,”
Marston urged. “We’ll skin her and cut the meat there.”

“
Oh yay,” Langley
muttered.

The two began the trek back to the cabin on
foot. Marston glanced up at the sun and guessed the time to be
about nine in the morning. An uneasy feeling settled in his gut and
he couldn’t help but think that something wasn’t right… the sooner
he got back to Rose, the better.

Chapter Twenty-One

When they entered the cabin’s clearing,
Marston glanced down at Langley as the boy rubbed at his
cold-reddened nose and sniffed. The boy’s eyes widened and Marston
followed his gaze to see a horse hitched beside the barn.

“
That’s his horse,
Marston!” Langley exclaimed. “That’s the banker’s horse. What if
he’s in there hurting mama?”

Marston laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Calm down, Langley. How do you know that’s the banker’s
horse?”

“
Because of those fancy
golden stirrups!” Langley was near tears. “What if he’s in there
with mama?”

Marston breathed deep through his nose,
fighting back his own worry and rage. “Calm down. He’s not in there
with your mama,” Marston assured him, glancing around the
clearing.

“
How do you know?” Langley
demanded.

“
Do you see any fresh dew
tracks going up the porch steps?” Marston asked. Langley studied
the steps from a distance and shook his head. “Well alright
then.”

Marston studied the grass and saw the tracks
in the dew. Footsteps leading around toward the back of the
cabin—toward Rose’s bedroom window.

His blood began to boil.

“
Langley I want you to go
to the barn and feed the horses.”

“
But…”

“
Don’t argue with me!”
Marston snapped. Langley’s blue eye widened and he took a step
back. Marston took a steadying breath. “Just go tend to the horses
and the stalls while I tend to the banker.”

Langley nodded and scurried off,
disappearing inside the barn. Marston dropped the doe to the
ground. Skinning the deer would have to wait; Marston had a banker
to tend to first.

He slipped as silent as a shadow around the
back of the cabin and pulled out his knife. He stopped dead in his
tracks when he came to the back of the cabin and found who he
assumed was Winston Meade, peeping into Rose’s window.

The man opened up the shutters and began
hoisting himself up, clearly intending to climb right in. “Can I
help you?” Marston whispered, stepping in close to the banker.

Marston grabbed Winston Meade and clamped a
bloody hand over the man’s mouth to keep him silent as he pulled
him from the window. Marston saw that Rose was still inside
sleeping peacefully.

Marston looked down at the man who had
threatened to force Rose the last time he’d been around and who was
now attempting to crawl through her window. Marston stared down at
the man who was going to die.

“
I see no reason to wake
the lady,” Marston growled. “You’re probably wondering who I am,”
Marston mused. “Let’s take a long walk down the river and I’ll tell
you.”

Marston continued to hold the man’s arm
tightly in one hand and keep him silent with the other. Marston
dragged the bastard a good half a mile into the woods, following
the river. He didn’t stop until he came to a place where the bank
was swollen and the current roaring. It would be impossible for
screams to carry back to the cabin from here.

Marston released his hold on the banker and
the man instantly spun and staggered backward. Marston looked the
man up and down, sizing up his quarry. Winston Meade had pale,
nearly colorless gray eyes that were wide and shining with fear.
His thick black eyebrows were raised high and nearly hidden beneath
his heavy bangs. His body was short but it was stocky and strong
and Marston assumed the man used that build to help him take
advantage of women on their own.

Marston would see to it that he never did so
again.

Winston Meade tugged on his suit jacket and
glared at Marston. “Exactly do you think you are and what right do
you have to manhandle me in such a manner?”

Marston snorted. “My name is Marston
Jacob’s. I'm the man of the house around here.”

“
No.” Winston shook his
head. “The man of the house was Langston Howell and he is
dead.”

Marston loved the way the man’s face paled
as he took in the sight of the blood covered Marston’s clothes and
hands.

Marston shrugged. “I’m the new man of the
house. Who the hell are you?”

The banker puffed up his chest. “My name is
Winston Meade and I work for Millerton Bank and Trust.”

Marston scratched at his neck and picked
away a bit of deer gore. “Right…” he dragged out the word slowly.
“And what were you doing climbing in my woman’s window?”

Winston let out a squeak and shook his head.
“I was not climbing in anyone’s window!”

Marston took his time fetching a cigarette
from his pocket and moved even more slowly as he took out a book of
matches and lit the tobacco. He took a long draw off the cigarette
and blew his smoke directly into Winston’s face. “Well, you sure as
hell better not tell me that you climbing out of it.”

Winston staggered back and coughed as the
smoke assaulted his senses. “Certainly not!” He licked his lips and
swallowed hard. “Mrs. Howell owes Millerton Bank and Trust a
substantial amount of money and I am simply here to collect a
payment.”

Marston let his cigarette hang off his lip
as he pulled his large knife. He ran the blade along his palm,
careful not to break the skin and he could hear Winston’s knee’s
knocking together. “Well, that’s interesting because I sent enough
money directly to Millerton Bank and Trust to pay off Rose’s debts
and the money was sent back to me along with a note informing me
that her debt is already taken care of and that you no longer work
for them.”

Marston thought perhaps Winston might vomit
as the man heaved. “I..uh.. that is..” It was clear the banker’s
brain had ceased to power his mouth.

Marston stepped forward. “Let me tell you
how this is going to work. You’re going to give me every dime that
you’ve taken from Rose over the last three years.”

Winston shook his head. “I don’t.. I don’t
have it.. but if you’ll simply let me go, I can get it…”

Marston’s cold chuckle had Winston’s weak
pleading trailing off. Marston put his knife away and pulled out a
second cigarette. He placed the rolled tobacco and paper between
Winston’s trembling lips and fired up a match.

Winston’s pale gray eyes eyed him warily as
Marston brought the match up to the cigarette and held it to the
tip.

Once the cigarette was lit, Marston crossed
his arms over his chest. “I’m not letting you go anywhere, banker
man.”

“
Please! Please, I will
get the money!” Winston pleaded, folding his hands and holding them
out to Marston. Marston could taste his fear and he soaked it in,
thoroughly enjoying the rush he got from it.

As Winston stared at him with tear-filled
eyes, Marston felt no guilt, no uncertainty, and no doubt. This was
who he was. A cold-hearted man who could torment and kill without
mercy if the situation called for it.

“
That pocket watch is
probably worth a pretty penny,” Marston noted, tilting his head
toward the chain hanging across Winston’s belly.

The man was quick to undo the chain with
trembling hands and offer it to Marston who was even more quick to
take it. “What do you have in your pockets?” Marston asked.

Winston frowned before digging in each of
his pockets and removing several paper bills, a few coins, and a
pocketknife.

“
What about your boots?”
Marston added, after pocketing everything in Winston’s
hands.

Winston appeared ready to run and he wrung
his hands. “There’s nothing in my boots, sir. I hardly see any
reason why I should have to remove them.”

Marston growled and squared his shoulders.
“Empty your goddamn boots, banker man.”