Mary Connealy (113 page)

The drenched horses obediently followed Cassie into the dark woods as wind buffeted them and thunder rumbled overhead.

“Stay back until you hear from me, Wade.” Red vanished toward the back of the house. There was a large barn, built with Cassie’s inheritance before her first husband went broke and died, leaving her alone, pregnant, and penniless in the unsettled West. Griffin also had several smaller outbuildings erected, too, so it would take time to search them all.

It took every ounce of self-control Wade had to watch and wait. He stared at that house through the nearly blinding rain, trying to burn a hole through the wall with his eyes. Was she in there? Was she hurt or dead?

God, please let us be in time.

Suddenly Wade heard a birdcall—a bird that would never be out singing in this kind of rain. Red.

Inching forward, Wade drew his gun.

Sid stopped in his tracks.

His eyes narrowed as a shadow separated itself from the barn. Moving slowly, silently, someone slipped from building to building, searching.

Sid backed his horse well out of the man’s line of sight, dismounted, and tied the animal securely.

A bolt of lightning lit up the yard at just the right second, and Sid got a good look at the man. But as he was swathed in oilcloth, he couldn’t identify him. Not Harv, that was for sure.

The man came out and headed in a crouching run toward the house. A flare of light outlined the man’s gun. Then a shrill whistle told Sid the rest. This man wasn’t alone.

Dying was not part of Sid’s plan. He felt his feet itching to take off, to run for the hills, to leave Harv to his fate. Except Harv was the only one who knew where that blasted gold was hidden.

They’d run into that house and see Harv with the wild woman, and there’d be killing trouble and Sid’s dreams of gold would die along with his saddle partner.

Inching forward, Sid drew his gun.

Abby couldn’t believe her eyes.

Maybe the lightning had left her addled, but she saw somebody huddled in the woods, barely visible because she was covered head to foot with a cloak. Watching closely, a long braid whipped out, and a pretty bow on the braid told Abby that this was a woman. The woman held three horses, and even deep in the woods on this black night, Abby recognized Wade’s horse.

Wade was here? Abby sidled closer, hating that she lost sight of the house as she moved closer to the woman.

A high-pitched cry Abby recognized convinced her to forget being quiet, and she walked forward without concealment. It sounded like…a baby. And who had a baby with her every time Abby had seen her? “Cassie, is that you?” “Abby? You’re here? You’re okay?”

Cassie Dawson, and from the odd wriggling and crying from under her cloak, Abby surmised that the woman had indeed brought a baby along.

“You brought a baby to a gunfight?”

Cassie’s smile shone in the darkness. “We didn’t set out for a gunfight. We set out for Belle’s.”

“So how’d you end up here?”

“Mama scary.”

Startled at the little voice sounding from beneath Cassie’s slicker, Abby looked closer at Cassie’s little tent she’d created with her waterproof coat. “You brought a baby and a toddler to a gunfight?”

Cassie shrugged under the wind-battered oilcloth. “Here’s what happened ….” Cassie finished her explanation quickly.

“Now I reckon I’ve got to go in there and save Red and Wade.” Abby turned toward the house just as a ridiculous excuse for a birdcall sounded through the storm.

“I’d surely appreciate it if you would, Abby.” Cassie said it like she didn’t have a single doubt in her mind.

Abby didn’t have any doubts, either. “You stay here.”

Inching forward, Abby drew Harv’s gun.

Using every bit of cover, Wade rushed the house. He paused at the porch. The minute he took the first step, the people inside would be warned. There was no way to disguise the creaking of the wood.

He caught his breath then charged up the steps. He threw open the door and swung his gun to cover the dark corners. One lump lay in the room. A human-sized lump. Wade’s heart stopped beating.

“Here, Wade.” Red appeared in the doorway that led to the back of the house. The frequent lightning flashes helped Wade locate his friend. Red stood alert, pointing his gun toward the floor so no wild shot went in the wrong direction. With Red watching the corners of the room, Wade rushed to the prone figure. Never had he known such terror. It made all he’d felt in his growing-up years, with his brute of a father, fade into nothingness. If this was Abby, if she was dead, then Wade would have to find a new way to live, because nothing made sense without her.

He dropped to his knees, and a helpful blaze of lightning told him it was a man. An unconscious, bleeding man. Another lightning bolt revealed an ugly scar on the man’s chin.

“Where is she?” Wade shook the man. “Where’s Abby?” The unconscious man didn’t seem to be so much as breathing, though Wade had checked and he was alive. And considering that the man was knocked cold, Wade suspected Abby had been here. This looked like her work.

A scratching sound pulled Wade’s attention from all the black niches of the room. Red had come all the way into the room, and now light popped to life as he held a match close to the still figure. Red leaned close. “This is the rustler I brought in.”

Wade studied the man until he was sure. “He’s the man Abby cut at the massacre.”

“So it was the same gang.” Red lifted the match to look at Wade. “And you said there were four of them?”

“Yep, and we’ve accounted for three.”

Red blew out the match. He and Wade wheeled to face away from each other. The house was as silent as death. The only sound the raging storm.

The rain battered the house. Wade felt awful knowing Cassie waited in the miserable darkness. Where was Abby?

“This must be Abby’s doing. Who else would cut the man then knock him cold?” Red asked.

“Unless the two rustlers fought over her and one took her.”

“Maybe, but those two men we caught were fast with their guns. Figures their partners might be, too. A knife sounds more like Abby’s style. I think she got away.”

Wade, studying the corners of the room during the occasional lightning flash, saw something against a far wall. He hurried over and lifted up a rope, knotted but cut through. “She got loose.”

“And she knocked this guy cold and ran. He’s stopped bleeding, but the blood hasn’t dried yet. She didn’t leave long ago.”

“I’m going to look upstairs.” Wade headed up the sweeping staircase.

“I’ll check all the rooms down here.” Red’s voice changed. “Wade, there was only one horse in the corral out back. If there’s a fourth man—”

“There is.” Wade paused, wishing Red would hurry up so Wade could be doing something.

“Then he’s gone. We can hope she got away, but he might have taken Abby with him.”

“Maybe he saw his partner, figured out he’d lost Abby, and took off.”

“Maybe. I hope so.”

Sick with fear, Wade rushed toward the stairs and was halfway up them when he heard a gun cock. He stopped and turned toward the sound, hoping Red’s gun had made the noise.

A bolt of lightning told Wade more than he wanted to know. Red stood in the door that led to the back of this rambling house. The black of a gun was pressed against his neck. Wade saw the gun was held in an awkward way, with two fingers of a glove extended rather than curved around the butt.

That’s when Wade knew.

Sid.

The M Bar S foreman—missing two fingers. Wade had seen that before. Sid had been at the massacre. And the unconscious man was one of the cattle rustlers, which meant Sid was one, too.

Suddenly, Wade was just as sure that Sid had caused Pa’s fall.

This man or one of his partners had shot at him and Abby with the bow and arrow. This one evil man was the mastermind behind all the trouble. He had to be stopped.

“Come out where I can see you.” Sid was shorter than Red, and he crouched low like a cowering dog, so Wade couldn’t get off a shot.

Wade had fired his gun twice in his life at a man. Both times it had been little more than an accident. It made him sick, still, thinking about his bullet hitting the outlaw, even knowing the man was vermin who deserved to die.

“Let him go, Sid. Abby’s gone. You can’t get her.” She’d probably run on toward her mountain valley. Choosing a life utterly alone over a life with him.

“You think I want that wildflower? Why do you think I left her for Harv?”

Wade might be too much of a coward to shoot a man, but he wasn’t a coward when it came to his own life and death. He knew he’d spend eternity in heaven, and that erased all his fear. What mattered was that Red came out of this alive. He had Cassie to care for.

Wade felt God writing a message across his heart with a fiery fingertip:

“In him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.”

No, darkness couldn’t comprehend the light. But Wade could shine the light of Jesus in the darkness. He’d tried with his pa, and maybe seeds were planted that would someday grow. And maybe that meant Wade wasn’t such a coward. Maybe a willingness to shine a light in dark places took a special kind of courage. And if the darkness couldn’t comprehend it, as Sid couldn’t now, then Wade’s willingness to die to save Red took more courage than a willingness to kill.

Wade’s spine stiffened. He walked down the last two steps. Then he stepped out and squared off in front of Sid, his heart on fire for the Lord. The light of God was shining within him until Wade thought it might be lighting the room.

A bolt of lightning brightened the room enough that Wade could see Red’s eyes. Red had both hands raised slightly above his waist, and Sid’s gun was jammed against Red’s throat. But Red looked calm, at peace, another source of light.

Wade knew all he needed was for that gun to aim away from Red for a split second, give Red a chance to act.

It was Wade’s job to bring that gun around to bear on himself.

“Let him go, Sid.” Wade was amazed his voice sounded so confident. “You’re finished. We’ve captured your other two saddle partners, and you can’t get this man out of here”—Wade tipped his head toward the unconscious outlaw—“without carrying him. Time to cut your losses. Back out of here and run.”

“You’ve captured Boog and Paddy?”

Wade had heard of Paddy, another Sawyer cowpoke. In the darkness, he hadn’t recognized him. Red had taken care of the Irishman, but Boog? That had to be the name of the man Wade had shot. Twice.

Wade swallowed hard to keep his voice steady. “Yes, we’ve got them. Give it up and run. We won’t try and stop you.”

“No, I’ve got too much to lose, and there’s still a chance I can win. As long as you’re dead.” With lightning quickness, Sid turned the gun from Red and aimed at Wade.

Wade went for his gun.

Red grabbed Sid’s hand and shoved up.

Sid’s gun blasted the ceiling.

A dull
thud
echoed in the room.

Lightning lit up the room, and Wade saw Sid’s eyes go wide into a vacant stare.

Red wrested the weapon free. Sid’s knees buckled.