River Song (44 page)

Nellie sniffed, but kept her tears in check. "How many men do you think there are who wouldn't mind having a wife whose insides are so messed up that she screams in pain every time he tries to touch her?"

"Oh, Nell," Cole sighed and reached for her hands. "I didn't know."

"I didn't know either. I didn't intentionally fool him into marrying what he thought was a whole woman, but deep inside I guessed things weren't right with me, that it might not be possible for me
to
consummate our marriage."

"And knowing Buck, I suppose that didn't set too well with him."

Again Nell sniffed, but this time it was with disdain. "Although he never said it in quite these words, he thought it was an awfully high price to pay for what he hoped would be half of this ranch." Dabbing at her nose, she added, "It didn't take him long to start satisfying his needs elsewhere. I know I shouldn't have blamed him for that, but it hurt just the same."

"Of course it did." Cole rose and pulled Nellie from her chair. Cradling her in his arms, he whispered, "Believe me when I say there are good men out there who would be happy to marry you just the way you are, and remain true to you in the bargain."

Her tears were like a team of horses rearing to go. It took all Nellie's strength to rein them in and say to her brother, "That's hard to believe. What if it were you and Sunny? What if she had, what if she couldn't—
"

"I love Sunny. Love always finds a way."

"You mean you'd go to her anyway, you would stay by her side and never stray?"

"Never, little sister."

Nellie gasped, and a sob tore from her throat. Was it possible? Could she actually manage to have a complete relationship? Was there someone waiting for her somewhere, a man more gentle and caring than Buck had been?

Watching his sister's expression change from despair to hope, Cole grinned and took her face between his big hands. He stared into the depths of her golden eyes and said, "You see, there is always hope, and a very good chance that you will someday find the love you've been denied. You've got to believe that."

Nellie lost control. Tears sprang from her eyes, leaving her incapable of speech. She sobbed against her brother's leather vest until she could cry no more.

"Sorry," she finally managed.

"Don't apologize. If you're able yet, the only thing I want from you is a little help."

"Sure." Pulling back from him, she reached for a lace-trimmed hanky and turned away as she blew her nose. Facing Cole again, she straightened her shoulders and thrust her chin out. "What do you need to know?"

Cole's grin widened and turned up the corners of his mustache. "You're gonna be just fine, sis."

"I know I am," she grinned back. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Tell me about Buck. Think back to when he returned from Maricopa. Was he acting any different or suspicious? Did he have any cuts or fresh wounds?"

Nellie screwed up her features and pressed a finger against her temple. "He did have a long cut just below his knee. He said he tripped over the spittoon at The Bucket and fell on his own knife.
Said he bled like a stuck pig."

"How was he acting?"

Nellie shrugged and twisted her mouth to one side. "Same as usual, I guess.
Loud and obnoxious."

"Did he make any comments about Sunny? Ask where she came from or why she was here?"

"He said several things about her, most of which I'm sure you wouldn't care to have me repeat. Let me think a minute." Intent on remembering anything, no matter how small a detail, concentration cut deep furrows between Nellie's eyes.
"Hmmm.
You know, he was acting a little loco, even for him, when I told him how you two met."

Picturing the scene, Nellie began to pace, her finger still pressed against her head. "I told him her mother had been murdered and that Sunny tracked the killer by following the unusual hoofprints. When I mentioned she followed those prints until she stumbled onto you,
then
nearly killed you, he laughed so hard I thought he was going to choke."

Nellie stopped her pacing as it all came together like the last piece in a puzzle. Whirling around, she took in her brother's appearance, trembling when she saw the rage building in his expression.

"Oh, Cole.
Did Bucky—could he have—?"

"I don't know, but I sure as hell intend to find out. And if it turns out Buck was involved in Moonstar's murder, he wasn't alone." Spinning on the heel of his boot, he left Nellie with an order before he crossed the threshold. "Keep this to yourself until I have all the answers. I don't want anyone spooked until I know what's what."

Then he barreled down the hallway and took the steps two at a time. After crashing through the front door of his home, he stomped across the yard and pushed his way inside the bunkhouse. Pausing only long enough to spot his quarry, Cole stalked across the room and grabbed a fistful of blue and grey checkered material.

"Get up off that bed."

Aided by his employer's strong hands, Stormy lifted his tired body off the blanket and stood face-to-face with Cole Fremont. "
What's
you all excited about?"

"I've got a few very important questions for you, and I want some straight answers."

Never taking his intense gaze off the baffled man, Cole shouted out of the corner of his mouth, "The rest of you men clear out. I need a little privacy."

Still staring down at Stormy with frigid green eyes, Cole heard rather than saw the room empty. Then he said, "Tell me all about your adventures with Buck after the three of us split up in Yuma." He wound more of Stormy's shirt into his palm, this time collecting both sides of the collar. "Tell me
everything
.
Don't leave out so much as one disgusting detail."

Stormy's little boy features suddenly aged, growing hollow and ashen. "I don't know what
yer
gettin' at."

Cole twisted the material, bringing the helper's throat in contact with the back of his knuckles. "I'm short on patience and time. Out with it
now,
or so help me, I'll wring it out of you."

The pressure increased against Stormy's throat until he could barely breathe. He squeaked out, "All right, I'll talk."

Cole relaxed his grip just enough to allow the man a minimal passage of air. "Spill it."

"We, ah, we just had ourselves a little fun, Cole. That's all."

The pressure began to increase again, and he quickly added, "That's how it started out anyways. Buck, him and me, we just had some beers at the saloon, then we was gonna head on back to home."

"But you took a detour, isn't that right?"

Stormy's eyes bulged with as much fear as pressure. "You know Bucky, he likes them
injun
women. I just went along with him. I swear to God, it weren't my
idear
."

Cole ground his teeth together as he fought the urge to snap the man's neck and be done with it. Instead, he snarled, "And so you found an Indian woman, one you assumed was alone?"

Stormy nodded and his eyes grew rounder, brighter.

"Which one did you kill?" he spat.
"The mother or the son?"

"I didn't kill
nobody
," he shrieked. "Swear to God, swear to God."

"Stop
your
damn babbling and tell me what happened."

"I am
,
I am." He brought his hands up and pulled at Cole's wrists, but he couldn't loosen his grip.
"Bucky done it.
We went in the house and the squaw screamed. I swear, when the
injun
kid come
runnin
', Bucky shot him dead the second he walked in the door."

"That's not the way I heard it. I know that boy wasn't found in the house." He turned his wrist a half a notch.

"Stop," Stormy begged. "Let me finish. The squaw got all hysterical and Buck, he said, go drag that kid outta here, so I done it. I took him out and hid him in the cornfield. When I come back, Bucky, he, well he'd kilt her too."

"Aren't you forgetting something? Didn't you boys stop by to have a little fun? Don't try to tell me you and Buck didn't force your miserable selves on that helpless woman."

"I ain't
forgettin
. I admit
it,
we did get to the woman. I, it's just that, well it was after."

"After?"
This time, his hand twisted of its own volition.
"After
what
,
you lousy piece of buzzard bait?"

"After ..."
Stormy's voice was raspy, oxygen-starved. His ashen skin had begun to turn blue. "After she
were
dead."

Something Cole had no control over, some innate sense of propriety, kept him from tearing the man's head from his body. It didn't, however, stop him from heaving Stormy against the wall, crushing him against the thick wood slabs as if he were nothing more than a pesky fly.

The thud of flesh against solid pine and Stormy's agonized moans, coupled with the sight of his rumpled body lying on the floor like a pile of discarded laundry, gave Cole the strength to harness his rage. He had to organize his thoughts, and make his plans.

The seconds ticked by. Cole whipped into action when he decided what he must do first. Reaching down, he grabbed the back of Stormy's shirt and jerked him to his feet. "Get up. We're going for a ride."

Wincing, disoriented, the ranch hand protested.
"I
cain't
.
You done hurt me so bad, I
cain't
even walk."

Cole propelled the man backwards and propped him up against the wall. Then he drew his Colt .44. "You've got two choices. Pick one or I'll do it for you. You can ride into Phoenix with me, tell your story to the sheriff and take your medicine, or—" Pausing, Cole pulled back the hammer and pressed the gun barrel under Stormy's chin. "I'll be happy to put you on trial and carry out your sentence right here and now. Choose."

Looking exceptionally boyish, more ridiculous than ever, Stormy's eyes crossed as he stared down the length of the barrel.
"I'm feeling lots better now. I believe I can make the ride to town."

Cole increased the pressure of the gun against his neck and added, "By the way, I've heard all I want to from that big stupid mouth of yours. One more word, here or on the trail, and—" Cole made a popping sound with his mouth. "I'll save myself a trip into town."

Stormy opened his mouth, but quickly shut it. Then Cole jerked him forward and pushed him towards the door.

Out in the yard, the other ranch hands milled around, pretending none had heard what went on inside the bunk-house. Calling them over, Cole singled out one of the men. "Go saddle a fresh horse for me—get the strongest one you can find—and bring Stormy's horse around, too."

The man nodded and Cole turned to another hand. "Brownie, you go to the house. Tell Mrs. Fremont I'm taking Stormy to see the sheriff. When my father returns, make sure to tell him I'm on the trail of Buck's killer and I'm taking care of things. I'll wire him with my progress from Yuma. Understand?"

"Yuma?
Well, not exactly. I thought that
injun
we caught was the killer."

"I'm not asking you to think, Brownie. We got the wrong man in jail. I can't explain any more than that right now. Do you know what to tell Nathan or not?"