Caleb's Rain Lily Bride (Texas Frontier Brides Book 1) Page 7

  He laughed and choked on a wad of tobacco in his mouth. She watched as he practically wretched, but he kept the rifle steady on her. When he was finished he spoke. “That’s mighty uppity of you, Miz Price. I’ll tell you what I’m doin here. All this nice property not being used is a shame. I’ve just been lookin’ around a little. Me and my brothers might be willin’ to give you an offer on the place.”

  “It’s not for sale,” Maggie spat, the leather reins digging into her hands. “Now you get off my land!”

  He laughed. “Or what? What are ya gonna do, Maggie? Call the sheriff?” He chortled at the joke. “Oh, sorry, I forgot. The sheriff’s dead, ain’t he? So what are you gonna do about it?”

  His laughter sent her anger soaring. Hot tears stung behind her eyelids. He was laughing at Ian. Laughing at her. For a moment she hated Hobart Sayer with every ounce of her being. If she had the Winchester, instead of him, he would be a dead man.

  “I asked you a question, Miz Price. What are you gonna do about it?”

  What was she going to do? Better yet, what was he going to do? The best scenario involved him taking the rifle off of her and walking away. But somehow, that didn’t seem much like a Sayer.

  Her mind whirred, but nothing seemed to come. No plan of action. She swallowed back the fear and fury that boiled in her chest. No matter what, she had to be brave, no begging, and no crying.

  Hobart took a step toward her. She took one back. The thought of the man touching her was revolting. She’d rather be attacked by a rattlesnake. A whole pit of them was preferable to Hobart.

  She would turn and run, die trying to get away if she had to. From the corner of her eye, she could see the rifle settled in her saddle scabbard. If she could only reach it, get her finger on the trigger. And maybe it would be worth trying, no matter the possible cost.

  “You better stand still girl. Once I get your horse, you and me’s gonna take a little trip right on over to your cabin.” He grinned bigger. “You know, the one you and the sheriff built together. The one–”

  “You step away from her right now, mister,” a voice commanded from their right. “I’ll kill you if you don’t put the rifle down!”

  Maggie jumped. Caleb. About six feet away, he was holding his revolver, pointed dead center at Hobart Sayer’s chest. How had he managed to get so close without them hearing? And with his injury, riding there must have seemed unbearable.

  Hobart, startled, swung the rifle and a shot sounded from the six-gun that Caleb held. Maggie stared as Hobart dropped the Winchester and swayed for a moment. His eyes, open wide, held an expression of astonishment. He slowly dropped to his knees. His gaze found hers for a second and then the big man fell forward, face down to the leaf strewn ground.

  Maggie stared, too paralyzed to move. He was dead. At last. Yet the feelings of exuberance and jubilation that she had expected were absent. Bile rose in her throat and for a moment, she was sure she would be sick.

  Caleb was at her side at once, his hand cupping her elbow. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

  Maggie gripped his arm and shook her head. “I’m fine.” She managed to force the words up her throat.

  “Do you know this man?”

  Her eyes still on the figure on the ground, she nodded. “Hobart Sayer. He’s the man that killed Ian.”

  Caleb pulled her closer. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I didn’t know you were coming out here or I would have come with you.”

  Maggie tried to speak. A ragged breath tore through her throat and she buried her face in his chest and cried.

  Chapter 12

  Caleb leaned back on the pillows that Maggie had arranged and stared out the window. The saloon appeared to be open, but he saw no one going in or out. All the cow hands were hard at work on the ranches and the regular citizenry must have things to do, too.

  A motion caught his eye and he watched as a young woman stepped out to the sidewalk, letting the door swing shut behind her. Tall and dark headed, she was dressed in a low-necked green gown, her dark hair pulled back, hung in ringlets down her back. A man on a horse stopped and started up a conversation with the woman.

  Caleb pulled his eyes away and stared at the mirror on the wall across the room. The bandage removed from his face revealed a long, dark cut on his forehead. The skin beneath his eye was blue and turning black. Anybody meeting up with him would think he’d come out on the wrong side of a fight. Anybody but Hobart Sayer.

  His vision shifted to the rifle leaning against the wall. His rifle. He had taken it from the dead man’s hands out there in the woods, then he and Maggie had delivered the body to the livery stable. The sound of Joe Sikes’ hammer echoed from the livery, down Main Street, where the man was busy making a coffin for the dead outlaw.

  A flood of emotions raced through him at the thought of what happened in the woods that morning. Maggie in so much danger. He had no choice in what happened. Sayer was the first man he’d been forced to kill since he left the army. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine how it could have ended differently. If only Hobart Sayer had set his rifle on the ground, surrendered. But outlaws rarely saw that as a choice.

  He moved a little and scowled at the pain in his side. The ride out and back had re-opened part of the wound. He sighed and leaned back a little more. All he needed was a few hours rest this afternoon. His heart told him that what might be ahead of them was worse than what had already happened. And they would all have to be ready. As soon as he rested. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Maggie finished writing out the fourth and last telegram she intended to send to the Texas Rangers. There was still a need for them to come. Hobart Sayer might be dead, but his brothers weren’t. She had sent a third telegram to them over six months ago with no results, other than an answer saying they would send someone when they were available. She was probably wasting money sending this one.

  “Will that be all, Maggie?” Davy Riley asked, as he turned the paper around to look at the words she’d written.

  She nodded and shoved her hands in her pockets. It was the best way to stop them from shaking. It was still hard to believe that her husband’s killer was dead. “I think that will do it. I don’t expect I’ll be contacting them again. They’ll either come or not.” And if they didn’t come this time, there might not be a town to come to.

  Barely in his twenties, he grinned. “I’ve waited to send this telegram for a long time. Whoever that Mr. Hatcher is, he’s a hero to this town. One down and two to go.”

  Maggie stared at his young face. Caleb was a hero. At least to her. He had legally done what she couldn’t. She had been tempted to ambush the Sayer’s so many times. Thank you, Lord, for staying my hand.

  But his last comment bothered her. Was the town expecting Caleb to kill all the brothers? He wasn’t a hired gun. He had killed Hobart in self-defense.

  Back out in the sunshine, she headed for the sheriff’s office. Leaving at six this morning, she hadn’t bothered to unlock the building. As she approached she could see a man sitting in one of the slat chairs by the door.

  She blew her breath out of her lips. It looked to be Bird Giles. A man that always had a complaint. “Good day, Bird,” she said as she approached the door.

  He stood and pulled an old, brown felt hat from his head. All but bald on top, greasy grey tendrils that grew above his ears fell limp and touched his shoulders. He clutched his hat so tightly in his hands, that his fingers blanched white beneath the dirt.

  Maggie put the key in the door and turned the lock. “What can I do for you?”

  He followed her inside and stood in the middle of the small room as she moved behind the desk and opened a window, allowing the mid-day breeze to drift inside. She took a seat in the squeaky ladder back chair and turned her attention to the man.

  He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “I come to claim my property.”

  Maggie stared. “Property? I don’t understand. I don�
�t have anything that belongs to you.”

  Bird let out a loud sigh. “You know how them Sayers has robbed me so many times. Now that Hobart’s dead, I aim to get my things back!”

  Maggie’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “I don’t have your property, Bird. If Hobart still had it, I’m pretty sure it’s out at the Triple S Ranch with the rest of the Sayers.”

  “But Hobart’s dead!” Bird exclaimed. “He was the oldest. I expect he was their leader. Now’s the time for you to strike, Maggie! You need to go on out there and get back all the property they’ve stolen.”

  Was he just having fun? She observed his ancient face and decided the man was serious. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but nobody’s going out to the Sayer ranch. What happened today doesn’t change a whole lot. Job and Allen are both still alive.”

  “Well what about the new sheriff? Isn’t he going to do something about it?”

  Confusion clouded her thoughts for a moment. Had the town council hired someone? “New…do you mean Caleb Hatcher?”

  Bird shrugged and scratched his head. “I guess. Whatever the fellers name is that did in Hobart this morning.”

  Maggie leaned back in the chair and stared. Bird’s request was probably only one of many to come. They would all be assuming that Caleb would be taking over the job as sheriff.

  And they all saw Hobart as the brother’s leader. Now, they were going to assume that things would be different. But she knew better. Allen might still be in training to be a true Sayer, but Job was already there. He would step right into Hobart’s shoes with no trouble. The jealousy between the two of them had been legendary. Job was more than prepared to take over terrorizing the town and ranches in the surrounding area.

  She turned her attention back to Mr. Giles. All she could do was try to reason with the man. “He’s just someone passing through, Bird. He hasn’t been hired as the sheriff.”

  Bird’s face began to redden and the muscles in his neck flexed. “Are you telling me that nothing is going to change around here?”

  Maggie stood. It was intimidating to sit and look up at his angry face, and she wasn’t going to flinch. She put her palms down on the old oak desk and leaned toward the man. “I don’t know exactly how things are going to be. Job and Allen don’t even know their brother is dead, yet. Once they do. . .well, you know how hot-headed they are.” She stood straight and put her hands on her hips, her thumbs looping over her belt.

  She watched his face pale as he realized her meaning. “You. . .you reckon they might try to get revenge?”

  There was a good chance of it. Look at one of them cross-ways and they were likely to shoot you. Now that one of them had been killed, all bets were off as to what they might plan for the town. But she couldn‘t say those words to this poor man. “I don’t think you need to get too worried about it, just yet. We’ll see how things go. Alright?” She offered a smile and hoped it looked sincere. All the town needed was mass panic.

  Bird sighed, nodded and put his hat back on. “I guess I wasn’t thinking right, Maggie. I know you’ve been doing the best you can. Just the fact that Hobart’s been killed is enough to set everybody to celebrating. I’m not gonna ask you to risk anything by goin out to their ranch.”

  A bit of relief flowed through Maggie and she took a deep breath. “Thank you. I figure everybody is thinking about how things might improve around here, if we get rid of the Sayer boys.”

  He nodded and turned to go.

  “I promise you, Bird, someday, things will be better in this town.” A statement she would work hard to make true.

  Chapter 13

  Maggie stood, waiting to carry the tray to Caleb’s room. The ride out to the ranch and back had been too much for him. He had done fine until they were back to the house. She had taken the reins from him and he had all but fallen off of his horse. It had taken most of her strength to get him back inside.

  “I’ll take that if you want me to,” Gram smiled, refolding the napkin on the tray.

  Maggie shook her head and reached for a small pitcher of cream and put it next to the cup of coffee. “I’d like to talk to him, if he feels like it.” She needed to find the words to tell him how much today had meant to her. Not only had he saved her from certain death, or maybe worse, but he had avenged the death of her husband. Deep inside, she knew there were no words to express her feelings. How would she ever show him how grateful she was to him?

  “Maggie?” Reba put her hand on her arm.

  She looked into her grandmother’s eyes. “What is it?”

  Reba reached up and smoothed back Maggie’s hair. “Honey, about today. I. . .I was so worried after he left in such a big hurry. What he did for you, for me, is just something I can never repay.”

  A lump began to form in her throat. To think of her grandmother being left alone was more than she could bear. “I know that, Grammy. I’m more grateful to him than I know how to say. And he must know that, too.” She put her arms around the older woman and hugged her tight.

  Reba nodded as Maggie stepped back. “And now Ian’s killer is gone, too.”

  “I know,” Maggie nodded. “But remember, he didn’t go out there for the purpose of killing someone. I’m afraid a lot of people in town are starting to see him as some sort of saintly hired killer. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that. They have to understand–”

  “They will. Just give them time,” Reba answered. “Now, you’d better get that food in there before it’s too cold to eat.”

  Maggie nodded and picked up the tray. She was almost to his door when it opened and he stepped out. His dark hair was tousled and his face scruffy and unshaven. But his blue eyes were bright and clear. Maggie felt her heart skip a beat as their eyes met.

  He looked at the tray in her hand and shook his head. “I’d just as soon eat at a table if it’s alright with you and Reba.”

  She blinked and ignored the pace of her heart. “Well of course it is. I just thought you would be too tired, too. . .sore.” She glanced down at his side and saw no sign of bleeding.

  “I’m fine,” he smiled. “And I need to talk to both of you,” he added, the smile fading from his face.

  Maggie turned and walked back to the kitchen, Caleb close on her heels.

  Reba, humming softly and stirring a pot on the stove, turned to them as they arrived. Her expression turned to surprise. “What are you doing out of bed, young man?”

  He grinned and took the tray from Maggie. “I told her I’d be eating with you two ladies tonight, if no one objects.”

  Maggie brought a platter of cornbread to the table, as well as another plate, glad that her grandmother had bothered with the white tablecloth and her best serving dishes. The crystal vase of late summer flowers added a nice touch to the setting, too.

  She passed the platter of salt pork and cornbread to Caleb and watched as he selected a large chunk. Good, he was feeling better. Or, he had enjoyed Gram’s cornbread last night and couldn’t resist taking a large piece. But judging from the food on his plate, he was definitely on the mend.

  “Caleb, would you ask the blessing on the food?” Reba asked.

  He nodded and bowed his head. “Dear heavenly Father, we thank you for today and this bounty before us and ask that you bless it to our bodies. We also ask that you be with the town and community, especially all in the family that are affected by today’s events. And help us to follow You in all You have planned for our lives. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Reba repeated.

  Maggie reached for her fork, but it already felt as if a chunk of cornbread was stuck in her throat. He had prayed for the Sayer family. And he was right to do so, she knew it in her heart. Why had she never considered them in her prayers? Had she been so consumed by hate and revenge that she had ignored the tenants that God had set before them? Please forgive me, Lord.

  “Maggie? Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  Reba’s voice sank through her thoughts and she blinked back to rea
lity. “Yes. I’m fine.” There was nothing else to say. Except that she had been a terrible example to everyone she knew, keeping her mind set on retribution.

  She looked up to see Caleb’s cobalt eyes on her face. Once again she felt a flutter of wings in her chest. She would have to do something about that. It was ridiculous to be attracted to a man she barely knew.

  He nodded to her and spoke. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I know today was hard on you.”

  She shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. The bitter taste sent a shudder down her throat. She had forgotten to add the cream. Reaching for the pitcher, she gave him her best smile. “No. I am fine, Caleb. I think that I’m just tired.”

  ***

  He studied her face, wishing he could understand what was going on behind those pretty, dark eyes. He dreaded what he was going to say to them, but it had to be done. And there was no time to waste.

  “About today,” he said, setting his fork back on the blue willow plate. “This family, the Sayers, from what you have both told me of them, sound like a group that might be causing the town some more trouble. Especially after what happened today,” he clarified.

  Maggie stopped, her spoon stirring in the cream. He had voiced everything that had been screaming inside of her. The Sayers would definitely seek revenge. And what could they do about it? Just sit and wait?

  She put the spoon down and turned her eyes to him. “Yes. I think they will. I’m just not sure what we can do about it. Or, exactly what form of payback they might plan, once they know that Hobart is dead.”