Caleb's Rain Lily Bride (Texas Frontier Brides Book 1) Page 12

  Crossing the street, she went to the house and secured the door behind her. Taking the stairs two at a time to the second storey, she headed for the back room. In the corner, she found Ian’s old trunk. Dropping to her knees, she sat in front of the battered piece.

  He had brought it with them from Georgia. She kept a few extra quilts for winter, as well as some things of her mother’s. But the rest belonged to Ian. A couple of his coats, his old officer’s uniform, and a few medals were carefully wrapped and hidden from sight. She supposed she should get them out sometime, but there was really no reason to display any of them. Ian was gone and they would only be a sad reminder of that fact.

  Taking a deep breath, she unlatched the leather buckle and opened the top. Swiping away the newspaper neatly folded over the things, she dug deep into the chest, until her fingers found the small scabbard. Pulling it through the layers of clothes, she held the object in her hand.

  The Bowie knife had belonged to Lane, Reba’s youngest son, only six years older than Maggie. Wild and out of control, the war had proved the perfect outlet for his untamed energy. But instead of using it as good for their country, he had allowed himself to become involved with renegades and thieves. First, with Quantrill’s Raiders, then he rode in the broken-off faction of Doone’s Riders, led by Clancy Doone.

  It had broken Gram’s heart that her boy had turned out in such a way. When it was confirmed he was killed in battle in Virginia, it had been almost a relief to the woman. She could hold her head up high, as her son had died an honorable death, fighting in battle with the Confederacy. It had been Gram’s other son, James, that had brought home the few personal possessions that Lane had owned. This knife being one of them. Sadly, it had been James’s last visit home. He had been killed six months later.

  It was only after the war, when Ian had seen the weapon she now held in her hands, that she had understood the truth of what Lane had really become. The blade and scrolled metal for the handle had been specially forged for Doone’s group. And now, one of those special knives was lodged in Job Sayer’s gut.

  The word retribution kept spinning through her mind. But why would Doone’s men need revenge on Job Sayer? Her heart knew it had to be more than coincidence that they showed up in Chance when the town had been expecting trouble.

  Leaning her back against the trunk, Maggie stared at the fancy leatherwork. Holding tight to the scabbard, she pulled the knife free with her other hand. The sharp, silver blade flashed in the beams of sun shining through the window. A small inscription on the blade read, Doone 1863.

  She shut the trunk and headed to her bedroom. She pulled her long shirttails from her trousers and secured the knife to her waistband, arranging the shirt. No need to get everyone in town riled up by seeing the thing.

  Chapter 22

  Caleb stared at the Bowie knife in his hand. Just as Maggie had said, it was a replica of the one Wally Stoner had pulled from Job Sayer’s mid-section. But the inscriptions were a bit different.

  While the one from Job’s wound also had Doone 1863, it had another more crudely scratched inscription: REVENGE, etched on the blade’s surface in broken letters, barely legible. But the meaning was clear.

  Caleb resisted the jolt that threatened to run down his back. He was used to hot blooded killing, kill in the moment, type slaughter. But this was a cold, calculated, thought-out kind of murder. And probably meant as a message to someone. At some point, Job Sayer had crossed someone the wrong way.

  His eyes met Maggie’s. “How about you keep this a secret for a while,” he said.

  ***

  It was noon when Rusty Hilton returned from Austin. Alone. Maggie, sitting on the porch, was up at once and walking toward the sheriff’s office. Gram could say what she wanted about her interference, but she had to know.

  He was already in the midst of conversation with Caleb when she stepped inside. Both men, standing, stopped abruptly and stared at her. “Go on, please,” she said, putting her back against the wall. She didn’t want to intrude on the meeting, but everything inside of her screamed to know what Rusty Hilton had discovered in Austin. As the former almost sheriff, she had a right to know.

  Caleb directed his attention back to Rusty. “What else did they say?”

  Rusty, his trousers and boots covered in dust from the long ride, pulled his hat from his head and deposited it on the desk. He ran his long, tanned fingers through strands of dirt coated hair. “They seemed right surprised at the picture. Seems Judge Parker and his Marshals up at Fort Smith have been looking for this group for years. It appears that they’ve been hiding out in The Territory most of the time.” He gave a swift glance at Maggie before he continued.

  “The Sayer boys got in with that Doone group during the war and helped ‘em rob a shipment of gold. Then, it seems that the three brothers snuck away in the night, taking the loot with ‘em.”

  Caleb let out a low whistle. “I guess they’ve been trouble their whole lives. And now it‘s finally caught up with them,” he said, pulling his chair up and sitting behind his desk.

  Maggie watched as he took a seat, a thoughtful expression on his face. He folded his hands and put his elbows on the desktop. “I figure these men from the old Doone’s Riders are probably just finishing up war business. But it seems odd they found them just now. Wonder what tipped them off?”

  Rusty shook his head and shrugged. “The Sayers have been in a bunch of trouble, alright, and I guess it’s not hard to believe they thought they could get away with such a stunt. It’s one thing to terrorize a town of innocent people, but they all but spit in the face of this Clancy Doone. And from what they said in Austin, old Doone always gets his revenge.”

  “A man like that doesn’t forget,” Caleb nodded.

  “The Sayers have been wanted by the law, as well as the rest of the gang ever since then. The Rangers seem mighty anxious to arrest any of them that they can,” Rusty said.

  Maggie folded her arms in front of her. It didn’t surprise her a mite that those boys were criminals before they came to Chance. And to think that Uncle Lane had ridden with them! Gram would be sick to know it.

  “Said they’d have a couple of Rangers up here in a few days. Asked us not to do anything, in the meantime, unless we just had to.”

  Maggie looked at Caleb. He appeared to be considering Rusty’s words. Surely he hadn’t planned to go after the shooters himself. “Sounds like the Rangers are going to take care of it,” Maggie offered, hoping Caleb would agree.

  He looked at her and his eyes narrowed. “After what the Doone gang did to Job last night, I’d say Allen is lucky if he’s got another day or two to live. Unless we do something about it.”

  Chapter 23

  Maggie nodded to the citizens on the sidewalk and narrowed her eyes at the glare of the sun above. How had so much time passed in there? It must be after two, she guessed. Her grandmother was probably wondering about her.

  She crossed the street and stepped inside the front room. Reba, was busy wrapping a package for her customer. Mrs. Jasper waited patiently for the package. Maggie knew the woman had ordered three dresses from Gram. Enough money to supply their groceries for another few months.

  “How are you?” Maggie asked, remembering to be polite, no matter how far removed her thoughts were from new dresses.

  “Just fine. I see maybe you could do with some of your grandmother’s dress making skills,” the grey-headed woman observed over her spectacles.

  Maggie forced her mouth into a smile. “When I can get back to women’s work, I guess that will be fine.” Without waiting for an answer, she headed up the stairs.

  Stepping inside her room, she pushed the door shut and closed her eyes. She leaned her forehead against the cool wood, feeling the rough grain press into her skin. The only sounds were the breeze through the window and the ticking of the mantle clock over the small fireplace. She breathed in the smell of roses and dust. A genuine smile touched her lips. If she turned and looked, n
o doubt Gram had brought a vase full of roses for her dresser.

  She took a deep breath just as another sound reached her ears. The creaking of the rocker moving on the old wood floor. Her heart leaped into a gallop. She spun to face the corner and stared into the eyes of Allen Sayer.

  Looking relaxed in the chair, he had removed his hat and rested it on his lap. In his right hand, he held a pistol, the barrel pointed at her. “Hello, Maggie,” he growled, his voice low and soft.

  She swallowed back the lump of fear in her throat. “What are you doing here?” She curbed her voice from shouting. There was no need for Gram to come running up the stairs and get herself in the same circumstances.

  He stared, his eyes hard with anger. “I figure I got a situation on my hands. Seems your new sheriff will probably be out to arrest me soon. And truth is, I’m not gonna let that happen.”

  “Fine,” she managed to say. “So why aren’t you out on the run instead of wasting your time here in town?”

  “Well, that’s the catch, Miz Price. You see, if I run, they’ll just come after me.”

  Probably he was right. Caleb had a plan, though she wasn’t aware of exactly what it was. When she’d left the office, Colonel Jenkins and a few others of the old confederates were heading inside.

  “I guess they would,” Maggie agreed. “After all, seems you are wanted up in Fort Smith.” Now why did she tell him she knew that? She’d have to be careful of her words from here on out.

  “So they found that out, did they?” He chuckled. “That gold sure has come in handy through the years. Still be getting us along if Job hadn’t been stupid and tried to hire some outsiders to kill the sheriff. Should of done it himself. . .like Hobart did.”

  She ignored the reference to Ian. The Sayers were nothing but cowards through and through. “Didn’t think he could pull it off himself, I guess.”

  Allen sat forward, keeping the gun level. “My brother was no coward, if that’s what you’re tryin to say. He just figured the town would be too alert for any of us when we rode in. Thought it would be best for someone else to do the job.”

  So Job had hired the very people that wanted blood revenge against himself and his brother? “I take it he didn’t know who he was hiring?”

  Allen shrugged. “Had someone else handle it for him. I guess it was somebody that didn’t know our past.”

  Or maybe they did and thought this was their chance for payback, Maggie surmised. How long could she keep this man talking? And what good would it do? He must have some sort of plan in mind that didn’t involve spending the night in their home.

  “So now what?” she asked, dreading whatever his answer was going to be.

  He stood and put the battered felt hat on his brown hair. “So now we go, Miss Maggie.”

  Go? No. No, no, no. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Allen Sayer! You can shoot me if you want, but I’ll not be leaving with you.”

  He chuckled and kept the pistol on her. “I think you are coming with me. Unless you want a bullet in that sweet old lady downstairs.”

  Maggie swallowed the tremor that ran through her. She could handle threats to herself, but not to Gram. She would do whatever it took to protect the woman. There was no way to fight him. She would have to go. And it didn’t hurt that she had Uncle Lane’s knife. Maybe Doone’s revenge would come through her.

  She let out a long breath. “All right. Let’s go down the back stairs.” Hopefully, Gram was still engaged in conversation with Mrs. Jasper and they would go unnoticed. If anything happened to her grandmother, Allen Sayer wouldn’t stand a chance. Uncle Lane’s knife would be buried deep in his heart.

  Chapter 24

  Maggie bristled and scooted around in the saddle. Having to ride double with Allen Sayer was the most uncomfortable thing she’d ever done. His arms held her tight to his chest. The stench of his breath sent a wave of nausea through her. He would probably shoot her if she lost her dinner on him.

  She swallowed hard. If she could keep up her courage and think smart, she might still have a chance to get away from him. “Where are we going?” she asked, as Chance Creek came into sight. Its waters were a little lower than usual, but a cool breeze still blew across its icy waves.

  “Why we’re going to your place, Maggie,” he drawled. “I figure we’ll be safe there.”

  Maggie clamped her jaw hard. He was probably right. Caleb and the other men would be headed out to the Sayer ranch. No one would think to come to her cabin. And it would take Gram a while to discover that she was missing. For an hour or two, she would just assume Maggie went down to the store, or was out talking with a neighbor.

  “I don’t see how this is going to help you get away,” she said, trying to lean forward, away from his nasty touch. She would have to take a hundred baths to get the stink of him off of her. Her mind raced, trying to think of something at the cabin that might help her get away. But nothing came to mind. The place was nothing but an empty shell, with only memories to fill the space.

  Thank you, Lord, that he hasn’t noticed the knife. Surely it was no accident that the Lord had made sure she possessed it. God works in mysterious ways, Gram always said. And now Maggie was beginning to see it, too.

  ***

  Allen used a rock to break the lock on the door. He pushed it open and shoved Maggie inside. She stumbled into the table and almost fell, catching herself at the last moment.

  She breathed in the stuffy air, thankful that she was away from his touch. Allen grabbed her elbow and pushed her into a chair. Unwinding a rope from a hook on the wall, he pulled her hands behind the rungs of the chair and tied a knot.

  “That oughta hold. I’ll be back as soon as I get the horse taken care of, so there’s no need for you to think about getting away. I’ll be watching,” he said as he went out the door.

  Glad to be alone, she began exploring the knot with her fingers. He had made it tight, but it wasn’t a very good knot. If she worked at it slowly, she might be able to free her hands. She scanned the room. For now, there was no hope for a chance to run. She would have to bide her time.

  Glancing down, the tip of the knife scabbard was barely visible beneath the tail of her shirt, and she shifted so as to cover it. Having the sharp Bowie gave her hope that escape was possible.

  Back inside, Allen left her tied and began opening the shuttered windows, letting in the afternoon sunlight. Maggie could see clouds through the open windows. Maybe it was going to rain and Allen would go on alone, knowing the rain would wash away his tracks. The air was beginning to cool and soon he would have to shut them back against the coldness of the night.

  But that wasn’t what he had in mind, she guessed, as he began patrolling the windows, setting two other loaded rifles under each one, making sure to get a good look in every direction. He barely paid attention to her as he scanned the scene out of each window.

  His boots made a pounding sound on the board floor as he walked back and forth in the almost empty room. Even in the dim light of the interior, she could see the sweat above his lips, the nervous movement of his fingers on the butt of the gun.

  “Why don’t you just give yourself up to the sheriff, Allen? He’ll make sure your old gang doesn’t get to you.”

  Allen kept walking. “Sure he would. If he was able. Then, he’d hand me over to the rangers or maybe some U. S. Marshals that come down from Fort Smith.”

  It was true. No matter his choice, his life was pretty much over. Maybe he preferred to go out his own way.

  The rope was looser now. She could feel the knot beginning to give. She hooked her forefinger around one of the loops and began to pull. “I remember your mother, Allen. She was a nice woman. A God-fearing woman. Don’t you think she–”

  “Just shut-up!” he shouted, giving her a momentary look. “My mother was a foolish old woman, spent all her time praying for God to change us. Lot of good that did.”

  She sat still, her eyes meeting his. “Don’t you think that might be becau
se she loved you and your brothers?” She let out a breath. Please help me say the right things, Lord.

  Allen shrugged. “She was our mother. I’m sure she did care. But. . .there were a lot of things she never understood. And that’s all in the past now. So, like I said, shut-up about it.” He turned back to the windows, continuing his surveillance.

  Biting down on her lip, she pulled harder with her finger. She exhaled. At last it was beginning to move. Pulling slowly, she felt a length of rope come through the knot. In another moment, her hands would be free. She pulled the last bit and caught the rope in her hands. Sitting very still, she held the fiber and watched Allen.

  If he would only go back outside, she would have a chance to get away. She would have to make her own rescue. No one would be coming to look for her. Caleb and any posse he had rounded up would be on their way out to the Sayer ranch, or to look for the two men that Job hired to shoot up the town. They were probably there by now. And soon, Gram would be starting to panic. She would realize that Maggie was missing. And there would be no one to help. Please give her comfort, Lord. Help her to know that I am alright. Help me get back to her, please.

  ***

  Caleb pulled his horse to a stop and slid to the ground. Wally Stoner brought his steed next to him. “Looks like the place is deserted.”

  He stared down at the farmhouse. This was the same site from which he and Wally had observed the ranch when they were out a few days ago. Now there would be only one brother to worry about. “I guess it almost is. Last week three men lived there. Now, only one. And that won’t be for long.”