Stronger Than the Rest (14 page)

“Papa?” Warren turned to see his daughter, Clarisse, with Jay Bellows  standing beside her. Warren wrapped an arm around Clarisse and pulled her close.

“It’s all right, Clarisse. Everything will be fine,” her father soothed even though his mind screamed at the injustice of it.

Warren walked over to Grant. After a moment the two strode up to where Drew had been pumping water alongside Jericho. Tess stood beside Drew, a hand resting on his shoulder. Like everyone else, she was covered in soot and dirt. Her eyes reflected the pain she felt at the family’s loss.

“Is the agreement ready?” Grant asked Drew.

“Yes, sir. It’s in your office.”

“Then let’s get this done,” Langdon spat out. “Those vermin hoped to drive me out, give up. They didn’t know I’d been interested in a sale to Grant for some time. Selling may anger them even more. You sure you’re up for that fight, Grant?”

“I can handle it,” Grant responded.

Langdon turned to his daughter. “Clarisse, gather what items you can find and load them into our wagon. We’ll follow the Taylor’s back and sign the paperwork, then find a place in town.”

“No, you’ll stay with us, Warren,” Grant offered. “You’ll want to get back here first thing tomorrow and town will be too far for you. Trust me on this.”

“Thanks, Grant. You don’t know…” but words failed as the reality sank in. He’d lost the ranch, his home. His wife had died right after they’d arrived. She was buried in this soil. He’d never expected to leave.

Grant clasped a hand on Warren’s shoulder. “It will work out. You’ll have money for a new start, hopefully here in Cold Creek.” Taylor walked away to let his neighbor deal with the loss in his own way.

Warren’s head dropped to his chest. He took a deep breath, but coughed as the remaining smoke filled his lungs. He grabbed a handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe his face. Black smudges colored the white piece of cloth. He looked to see his daughter standing several feet away, Jay’s arm around her shoulder. He liked the boy, he liked the town. Maybe they could find a way to stay in Cold Creek.

******

Denver, Colorado

Pierce walked the upper balcony. He made his way through the two hallways reserved for the patrons and saloon girls, but found nothing that caught his attention. The back door creaked open as he peered out, but again he found nothing. Walsh’s office was on the other side of the upstairs.

The two areas were separated with a door which was left unlocked except when Walsh was gone. Ira owned the only key to it and his office down the short hall. Pierce looked around, saw no one, and checked the knob. Locked. He reached in his pocket to extract a slim object with a point and inserted it into the lock. The gesture was followed by a click and the door popped open a fraction. Pierce pushed it and entered the hallway to Ira’s private quarters, then shut the door and locked it.

When he reached the office door, Pierce repeated the same procedure he’d used to access the hall. Again, the lock clicked.

Pierce looked around again and, satisfied he was alone, slipped through the door, locking it behind him. There was a small amount of light streaming through the windows from outside. Not much, but enough that he could see. He knew from his brother that the wall safe was hidden behind a picture. The third one yielded results. It took a few moments, but Pierce opened the safe and looked inside. The main ledger lay on top. He pulled it out and lifted the trap door underneath. The second ledger he’d decoded was beneath. He needed to find the third.

Feeling his way around the inside of the safe produced nothing. Yet he knew the ledger was close—if not in the safe than somewhere close enough for easy access by Walsh.

He tried again. This time his fingers landed on a small catch, almost a miniature ball. He moved it to one side, then the other. Nothing. He pushed upwards on the catch and heard a slight noise. The back wall of the safe opened. Pierce reached in and felt a book. The third ledger.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen him?” Walsh’s voice was strident, close.

Pierce closed the hidden door, locked the safe, replaced the picture, and looked around for a place to hide. A key clicked in the lock and the knob turned, then stopped. “Find him,” Walsh barked, and pushed the door open.

Ira approached his desk while looking about the room. He saw nothing. The papers on his desk appeared undisturbed. He rushed to the picture hiding his safe and pushed it aside. The safe seemed secure, but he opened it anyway. The three ledgers were inside. He closed the safe and replaced the picture before turning at the sound of someone entering his office.

“He was outside, using the facilities,” Connor informed his boss. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yes. Nothing seems amiss.” Connor watched as Ira lowered himself into his chair. “Your meeting went well?”

Ira looked up, deciding how much to say. Connor had proven himself reliable, trustworthy, but still, Walsh wasn’t certain. “Yes, it went well. I’m having my lawyer draw up the necessary papers and hope to make the first delivery within three months.”

Connor didn’t ask what the merchandise was. He figured Ira would share that with him when the time was right.

“There’s another group of investors I must meet with. This time I have to travel to San Francisco. I’ll be leaving tomorrow but don’t expect to be gone too long. I trust you to take care of everything here.”

“I’ll handle anything that comes up in your absence.” Connor looked about the neat office. “I better get back downstairs. Let me know if you need anything before your trip,” Connor said and left Walsh to his own thoughts.

******

“Your new job working out all right?” his brother asked as he entered the room where Pierce worked.

“Yes. I found the third ledger.”

“Did you? And where is it?” his brother glanced around but found nothing new on Pierce’s desk.

“Still in Walsh’s safe. But I can get to it now that I know where it is. The problem, of course, is that it will take days to copy and the book must be returned each night.”

“Ira’s traveling to San Francisco tomorrow. He’ll be gone over a week. You’ll be at the saloon and will know when he leaves. That will be your chance.”

“Is the boss still back East?” Pierce asked. He knew the man would want answers as soon as he set foot off the train.

“Yes. I expect to get a message from him by tomorrow. He’s scheduled to be back next week. That may give you just the amount of time needed to copy the ledger and decode enough to see if it’s what we hope.”

“Then what?” Pierce asked his brother.

“What do you mean?”

“If Walsh is guilty, like you expect, your job here is done. Where will you go after that?” Pierce enjoyed the work he did for his brother, but he was getting restless. His old life called to him and he was ready to return.

“Haven’t thought about it.”

Pierce wasn’t surprised.

Even though Pierce had been the wilder of the two, his brother had been darker, deadlier. He had a conscious, but held no qualms at all about putting a bullet in someone if they were guilty of a crime. It was his brother’s type of justice—black and white—no middle ground.

“I have to get going,” he told Pierce. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” His brother slid out the door without a backwards glance.

******

Cold Creek, Colorado

Warren Langdon read the document once more, signed his name, and extended his hand to Grant, then Drew. “I appreciate your work on this. It’s more than I’d anticipated, but you’re getting a solid piece of land.”

“You know, Warren, there will be a place for you and some of your men once I decide how to proceed with the property. You open to offers or have you made up your mind to leave?”

“Haven’t decided. Clarisse wants to stay. You’ve probably figured out she has something going with Jay Bellows over at Bierdan’s place. I hate to break that up by moving away. I guess I’m open to offers if you believe I’d be useful, and I’m certain my men would be open to listening, also. After this is final, they’ll be out of a job.” Langdon finished his coffee and stood. “Well, I best be getting back to the ranch and salvage what I can. From what I remember of last night, it shouldn’t take long.”

Drew watched him leave and felt a burden lift. Langdon had made the right decision. He and his daughter were now safe, Grant had an excellent piece of land, and Drew was now free to concentrate on acquiring the Bierdan ranch.

What he wanted to concentrate on was walking again—and Tessa Taylor.

He hadn’t told Jericho, but he’d felt sharp painful twinges in one leg yesterday and in the other leg today. Both times the pain had radiated from a foot, up the back side of the leg, to his hip. Each one had been excruciating—and wonderful. The first people he’d wanted to tell were Tess and Aunt Alicia, but he didn’t want to give them false hope. Today he would tell Jericho if he experienced the pain again.

Chapter Twelve

Denver, Colorado

“Drop it, Slaughter,” Connor’s voice sliced through the noise of the saloon, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and stare—not at the man who held the gun on Pierce, but at Conner. They knew he didn’t hold with drawing a gun on someone unless you aimed to use it. Everyone knew Connor would use his.

“I ain’t leaving until I win my money back,” Slaughter hissed. “And your man here ain’t going to throw me out, either. He’ll be dead if he tries.” He continued to point his gun at Pierce’s head.

A shot sounded through the room and everyone watched as Slaughter’s lifeless body crumbled to the ground—a hole centered in his forehead.

Connor holstered the still smoldering gun. Without so much as a glance at the dead man, he gazed around the room. “Nelson, help Pierce throw the body outside, then go for the sheriff.” He ordered another employee to clean up the mess. He felt no remorse, no guilt. The man had a gun pointed at another man’s head—Connor’s man—and that, in Connor’s mind, was a deadly mistake.

He walked over to the bar and stood next to Lola. “Nice shot, Boss,” Lola murmured.  “That’s what? The third man who’s pulled a gun since you arrived? You’d think that fella would have heard not to pull a gun in here. Some people just don’t learn.”

“Each one’s been righteous.”

“No one’s disputing that. Not one person in the saloon has ever said otherwise.” Lola studied Connor. He’d be a heartbreaker if he ever let anyone get close. His tan skin, coal-black hair, and clear, moss green eyes set him apart from most men. He’d always treated her well—treated them all well—but there was something dark, sinister about him. His calm exterior and supreme confidence spoke volumes. Connor might be the deadliest man she’d ever known.

“It’s all done, Boss,” Nelson reported. “Sheriff didn’t say a word. Just had someone haul the body away, spoke to a couple of people, then took off.”

Connor glanced at Nelson and nodded as Pierce walked up.

“You want me to go up and tell Walsh?”

“He left a few hours ago for San Francisco. I’ll tell him when he returns.” Connor answered and sipped at the whiskey Lola had ordered. He didn’t drink on the job, but tonight he’d make an exception.

“Hey there, Lola. You want some company tonight?” A cowboy about Connor’s age walked up and put an arm around her waist, pulling her close and bending to place a kiss on her neck.

She ventured a look at Connor but he was lost in his whiskey and watching the saloon.

“Sure, cowboy. You know the way.”

Connor watched as Lola and her companion made their way up the staircase. She was a working girl, knew the good and bad of it, just like he knew the good and bad of his choices. Tonight they’d both live with those choices.

******

Cold Creek, Colorado

“One more time, Mr. Jericho,” Drew ordered. They’d been at it for an hour and Drew had yet to feel anything. No twinges, no sharp pain, nothing. He was determined to keep at it until he felt something.

Jericho lifted him once more and helped Drew arrange his feet, then, by inches, let his legs absorb the weight. This time Drew cried out in pain and began to topple. Jericho tightened his grip and lowered him into the chair.

“Are you all right, Mr. MacLaren?” Jericho had lowered his body to rest on his haunches and looked up at his boss. Concern mixed with hope showed in his face. His hands gently moved over Drew’s legs, feeling for anything that would elicit such a response.

Drew took a deep breath to steady his heart rate. He’d felt it. Pain. From the heel of his foot to his hip. A sharp, almost searing pain that radiated upwards. It had been excruciating and exhilarating at the same time. Although it hurt like hell, he couldn’t contain the small grin that showed on his face.

“You feel something?”

“Yes.” Drew pushed himself up in the chair and leaned back. “That’s the third time in three days.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”