Outlaw's Bride (39 page)

F
rom the chair Layton had forced her into, Mattie stared down at Herman's lifeless body. A tear trailed down her cheek and she wiped at it impatiently. There would be time later to mourn. Clint would be coming and Layton planned to shoot him in cold blood. Just as he'd done two months ago.

She swallowed the terrible fear and focused on the killer. He stood by the fireplace, listening and watching like a snake plotting its next meal. He hadn't bothered to tie her up, but the gun in his hand was reason enough not to try anything. Yet.

A creak sounded from the porch and Mattie's entire body tensed. Layton, who'd obviously heard it also, crossed the short distance to her. Resting one hand on her shoulder, he used the other to hold the gun close to her head. “Come on in and join the party, Beaudry,” he called out.

Mattie's breath caught in her throat and icy fear pierced her. The front door creaked open, then came the gentle clink of spurs. Clint's familiar figure appeared in the doorway and his gaze darted to Mattie. Relief showed in his eyes and he sent her a barely discernible nod. Though she knew they were far from safe, her tension eased at the confidence Clint exuded.

Clint shifted his attention to Herman and his jaw muscle knotted. “You bastard,” he growled at Layton.

“I didn't do anything. He did that all on his own,” Layton said lightly.

Clint balled his hands into fists and took a step toward Layton. Rage rolled off him like thunderclouds coming over the mountains.

Layton raised his gun, pressing the barrel against Mattie's temple. “No you don't, Beaudry. You come any closer and I'll blow her brains out.”

Clint stopped abruptly and his gaze flickered to Mattie. She could see the desperation in his eyes, the helpless fear that he was living a nightmare.

Mattie wanted to reassure him, but her mouth was so dry she couldn't speak. She lifted a trembling hand as if to reach out to him, but Layton knocked her arm down.

“Be a good girl, Mattie,” he said in a steely voice.

Clint's white lips thinned. “It's me you want. Let her go and I'll do anything you say.”

Layton shook his head. “She's my bargaining chip, Beaudry. I know you got more people coming and I'm going to need her to get away. When I've gone far enough, I'll let her go.” He smiled coldly and caressed Mattie's cheek with the back of his fingers. “After we get to know each other better.”

Mattie flinched from his touch, her skin crawling. She knew exactly what he had in mind—the same thing he'd done to Clint's wife. She'd kill herself first or force Layton to kill her.

“Come on, Layton, she'll just slow you down,” Clint said, sliding a step closer. “Besides, the folks in this town won't let you get away with it. Mattie is one of their own and they won't rest until you're hanging high.”

“You've been trying to catch me for over a year, Beaudry. What makes you think a bunch of yokels can hunt me down?” Layton demanded.

“Because I'm going to come back from the grave and make sure they do,” Clint said in a low, feral voice. He moved another foot closer.

Mattie shivered at his savage tone.

“
I
don't believe in ghosts, Beaudry,” Layton said. He shifted the gun's aim, centering it on Clint's chest. With a distance of less than four feet, he couldn't miss. “Why don't we see who's right about ghosts?”

Layton's finger curled around the trigger.

A loud thump from upstairs startled him for a split second. Mattie shot to her feet, ramming her body against Layton's. The gun discharged, nearly deafening her. The murderer shoved her aside and she tumbled onto the couch.

Clint charged into Layton and the two men fell to the rug in a tangle of arms and legs. The revolver dropped out of Layton's hand, skittering across the floor. The sound of flesh against flesh and a few grunts punctuated the fight. Mattie pressed her hand to her mouth, frightened for Clint as she watched him absorb Layton's blows. Blood flowed from a cut on Clint's cheek.

She quickly retrieved the gun. Its cold weight felt awkward and unfamiliar in her hands. She wouldn't let Layton kill Clint. She raised the gun between her shaking hands and aimed it at the flailing men. Afraid she'd shoot Clint by accident, Mattie lowered the weapon, watching the fight with a growing sense of dread.

Clint and Layton thrashed around, exchanging more punches. Clint seemed to be gaining the upper hand with his larger body and lawman's experience.

Suddenly Layton kneed Clint in the groin and rolled away, grabbing the piece of firewood Mattie had dropped earlier. Layton swung it over his head, his intention clear.

Almost without thought, Mattie lifted the pistol and squeezed the trigger. The explosion set her ears ringing. Through the haze of gunsmoke, she watched Layton pitch forward. The log fell harmlessly to the floor beside his motionless body.

Clint's gaze flew to Mattie, his expression stunned. He pushed himself to his feet, wobbled, then stepped over Layton's unmoving body. Staying out of the revolver's line of fire, Clint reached over and wrapped his fingers around the gun, pushing it downward slowly.

Mattie abruptly released the weapon, and Clint closed his grip around the gun, taking it from her numb hands.

Her strength evaporated and she fell against Clint's powerful chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing deeply of his familiar, soothing scent. Clint hugged her tightly and she felt his trembling through her own shudders.

“Are you all right?” Clint asked huskily.

She nodded against him. “But Herman … he's dead.” Her tears dampened his shirtfront. The tempest of emotions she'd experienced that day deserted her, leaving her feeling numb and empty.

“I'm sorry, Mattie,” Clint said. “If I hadn't come here two months ago, none of this would've happened.”

“If you hadn't been here, he still would've come. He was going to do to me what he did to your wife.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she had to swallow before whispering, “You saved my life.”

The tenderness and sorrow in his eyes made Mattie's breath catch in her throat. It would take her a lifetime to learn all the layers of the man beneath the cool exterior.

She wished she had that long.

The sound of footsteps on the porch startled Mattie, and she backed away from Clint. Green Valley's townsfolk—Kevin, Orville and Amelia Johnson, Norbert from the bank, Luther the liveryman, Ellen from the bakery, and many others Mattie had known for years—crowded into the house.

Andy shoved through the crowd and ran to her. She knelt down, opening her arms to him. For a moment, he was just her little boy again. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his dark hair.

“Herman's dead, isn't he?” Andy asked with a trembling voice.

Mattie tightened her embrace on her son. “I'm sorry, sweetheart.”

The boy's tears dampened Mattie's shoulder as he cried. She glanced up at Clint and met his grieving eyes.

“Are you all right?” Kevin asked.

She looked up at him, noting how his face was pinched in concern. “I'm fine.” She glanced down at Herman's body over Andy's shoulder and fresh anguish filled her. “I think Herman's heart gave out.”

Kevin squatted down beside him, and after a minute he nodded wearily.

Two silent townsmen came forward to carry out his body.

“Is that the man …?” Kevin began, looking at Layton.

“That's him,” Clint said gruffly. “He's the one who ambushed me, left me for dead. He raped and killed my wife, too.”

Kevin studied Clint, then nodded, almost in resignation. He stepped over to examine Layton. “He's got a shoulder wound, but he's still alive.”

Though Mattie hated Layton for what he'd done, relief washed across her. She didn't know if she could live with the knowledge that she'd taken a life.

“He'll live only long enough to be hanged,” Clint said grimly. He glanced at the group of people. “Luther, Orville, get him over to the jail. Dr. Murphy can take care of him there.”

Andy's crying had diminished to quiet hiccups. Clint helped Mattie to her feet and they moved aside while the two men carried Layton out. With the excitement over, the crowd dwindled.

Amelia stepped over to Mattie and gave her a hug. “I'm glad you're all right,” she said, her eyes glistening. “I would've hated to lose a new friend.”

Mattie gripped Amelia's hands, her throat thick. “Thank you.”

The younger woman exited in the wake of her husband, leaving only Clint, Kevin, Andy, and Mattie in the parlor.

“I'd like to speak with you for a minute,” Kevin said to Mattie. He deliberately glanced at Clint and Andy. “Alone, please.”

Mattie looked at Andy, whose cheeks were tear-streaked and flushed. “Why don't you take Clint into the kitchen and help him clean up?”

Andy's gaze moved from Mattie to Kevin, then back. He nodded somberly. “All right.”

Mattie was aware of Clint's intense scrutiny, but she couldn't meet his eyes. His wife's murderer had been caught—he'd fulfilled his promise to her. But what of her own promise to Kevin?

As Clint passed by her, he clasped her forearm gently, the simple gesture speaking louder than words. Then he rested his hand on Andy's shoulder and guided him into the kitchen.

Mattie rubbed her brow. Her insides were raw, her feelings jumbled and confused.

“Sit down before you fall down, Mattie,” Kevin ordered softly.

He guided her to the settee and lowered her to the cushion. She placed her tightly clasped hands in her lap, wondering what Kevin wanted to talk about. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and didn't have the energy to hide her emotions.

He cupped Mattie's cheek gently.

“I'm releasing you from your promise.”

Startled, Mattie met his gaze. “What?”

“I'm releasing you from the promise you made to me about Clint's baby and about marrying me.” He smiled sadly. “I heard you and Beaudry talking outside the dance hall. I never meant to hurt you, Mattie. I only wanted to take care of you.”

Her head swam. “I—I can't.”

Kevin moved to the hearth and stared into the fireplace, his glasses reflecting the glowing embers. “You love him, Mattie. You'd never be happy being married to me.” He paused. “Comfortable, maybe, but not happy. You'd always wonder.”

Part of Mattie wanted to accept Kevin's release without question, but another part of her hated to hurt him. She stood and walked to his side, then laid her hand on his arm. “What about you? What do
you
want?”

He turned back and took her hands in his. “I want you to be happy. Beaudry makes you happy.” He smiled ruefully. “Though God knows why.”

Mattie laughed, her tensions easing away. “Believe me, I wish I knew why, too.” She sobered. “I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you wanted.”

“I am, too.” Kevin gave her hands a squeeze, then smiled. “I'll let the reverend know there'll be a different groom at the wedding next Sunday.”

“
If
Clint's ready.”

Kevin chuckled. “He's ready, Mattie.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You deserve this happiness.”

“Thank you,” she said hoarsely. She tugged off her engagement ring and handed it to him. “Give this to the woman who can love you as much as you deserve to be loved.”

Kevin closed his fingers around the gold band and nodded, then turned and left.

Mattie rose to her feet and stood in the center of the parlor, listening to the faint voices of Clint and Andy in the kitchen. She glanced at the blood-soaked rug where Layton had fallen, and shivered. Then she looked toward the place Herman had died.

Her lower lip quivered, but she kept her sob at bay. She had to believe Herman was with Ruth now, that they were both at peace.

“Mattie?”

Clint's soft voice startled her and she turned to find him standing in the doorway of the parlor. “Yes?”

“Is Dr. Murphy gone?”

“He just left.”

Awkward silence filled the space between them. Clint held his hat in his hands, turning the brim around and around. “I'm sorry about Herman. I know how much you and Andy cared for him.”

Mattie swallowed past the tightness. “I have to believe he's at peace now.” She studied Clint, thinking that something looked odd about him. Her gaze settled on his hips. “Where's your gun?”

He shrugged, seemingly embarrassed. “I didn't have time to get it before coming here.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “My not having it almost got you killed, Mattie.”

As much as she wished she could disagree with him, she couldn't. After shooting Layton, she understood too well the protection of a gun. “I know. It seems lately I've been wrong about a lot of things.”