Ashes and Memories (17 page)

In the midst of the excitement, Reece turned to look at Emma, and her heart froze. His already grim expression hardened, and she flinched at the suppressed rage in his eyes.

“Miss Parker,” he said, his tone sharp and caustic. “I was wondering when you would arrive to record this event. A jailbreak is big news, isn’t that right?”

In her peripheral vision, Emma saw Doctor Stevens look up from his work at the sound of her name. He glanced from Emma to Reece, opening his mouth as if to speak, and Emma hoped fervently he would not. She recognized the fury in Reece’s expression and his tone, and she didn’t think it would take much at this point to goad him into violence.

“What happened?” she asked, holding her pad and pencil with hands that trembled slightly.

She tried not to study the shadows under his eyes or the uncharacteristic dishevelment of his appearance. He looked like a man who had been roused from bed and had thrown his clothes on quickly and carelessly. His gray brocade vest stood open, the white shirt underneath only partially buttoned, and Emma forced her attention away from the hint of hard, muscled chest revealed there. But when she returned her gaze to his dark eyes, his cold disdain nearly destroyed what was left of her composure.

“As you can see, a man has been injured in the course of his duties,” he said tautly. “The sheriff estimates that about half a dozen men entered the jail around two this morning, hit him over the head and freed Mr. Garrett.”

“Do you know who they were?” she asked the sheriff.

“I hope you’re happy, miss newspaper editor,” Ryker said bitingly.

The rancor in the sheriff’s voice slammed into her with the force of a blow. She’d never cared much for Sheriff Ryker. It was hard to like a man you didn’t respect, and she couldn’t respect any man in such a position of responsibility and power who allowed himself to be bought off. And she knew he didn’t bear any fond feelings for her either, after she’d questioned his integrity in her paper. Even so, he’d never been openly hostile before.

“Ouch!" Ryker cried.

“Hold still,” the doctor admonished.

“Hell, by the time you’re finished I’ll have more holes in my head than a pin cushion!”

“Do you think it was members of Mr. Garrett’s gang?" Emma asked, suppressing a smile as her gaze met the doctor’s briefly over the sheriff’s head. She directed her question to Reece, ignoring the sheriff’s angry outburst.

“No,” Reece replied before the sheriff could do so, “as it turns out, they were citizens of this town. Apparently one should never underestimate the power of the press.”

“You can’t blame me for this,” she said shakily.

“Who the hell should we blame?" Ryker boomed just as the doctor snipped the thread.

“There’s no need for that, sheriff,” Reece said without taking his eyes off Emma.

His offhand defense of her softened her heart and eased her anxiety to a degree, but the lack of compassion and mercy in his expression told her he was far from forgiving her.

“Yeah,” Ralphy cut in. “Miss Emma was just doing her job, ain’t that right, Miss Emma?”

Emma looked at Ralphy, grateful for something else to concentrate on other than the tension that stretched as tight as a banjo string between her and Reece. She took a deep breath and managed a wan smile.

“Folks got a right to know the truth, don’t they?" Ralphy asked.

“That’s right,” Reece agreed. “Miss Parker was only doing what she felt she had to do." He directed his next words to Emma. “Now, you will excuse me if I do the same. This has been a rather busy morning.”

With that he turned and stalked from the jail. The sheriff regarded her with unmasked dislike, while the doctor’s expression registering compassion and pity. She didn’t care what the sheriff thought of her, but Reece’s opinion mattered to her more than she wanted to admit.

She should be glad he was gone, glad she could breathe again, glad not to have those sharp, angry eyes slicing through her composure. But she couldn’t just let him walk away. She had to explain, make him understand.

Impulsively she ran after him, drawing her coat around her against the cold as she stepped onto the wooden sidewalk. He had stopped to speak with someone and was turning away toward the other side of the street when she caught sight of him.

“Reece!" she called, hurrying after him. He turned to face her, and she went on quickly before she lost her nerve. “I never meant for anything like this to happen.”

His arrogant gaze slid down her body, and when it returned to her face, it held nothing but contempt. “You should have stayed out of it,” he said, his voice ominously soft and level.

Emma swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. She faced him squarely, though the heat in his golden eyes nearly incinerated her. “The man deserved a trial.”

The muscle in his jaw tightened, and his eyes took on that ruthless, uncompromising darkness that chilled her far more thoroughly than the cold morning air. “He deserved a hanging. Well, you got what you wanted. The entire town rallied around your little paper. Congratulations.”

He turned to go, but Emma halted him with her words. “But you can’t believe I wanted him set free.”

Reece sighed tiredly, rubbing his eye with a knuckle. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? Garrett is free, and he will come back with his men and they will have their vengeance.”
 

She forced a smile. “But now that he’s out of jail, they have no reason to want vengeance. Maybe they won’t --”

“Emma,” he cut in sharply. His head cocked to one side, he regarded her with an expression of utter impatience. “The Garretts would kill a child for a silver dollar. The man you saw hanging by his feet in the middle of town was Garrett’s brother. Believe me, they will not let that go unavenged. I suggest you find a place of safety and pray to God they restrict their retribution to property because I do not intend to lift a finger.”

“You’d turn your back on the town when they need you?”

His eyes hardened, his lips drawn in a grim, determined line. Emma had known him long enough to realize that when his face took on that implacable glower there was no reasoning with him.

His voice was soft, but the power and determination that vibrated through his words left no room for argument. “I am prepared to do what I must to maintain my authority in this town, if I have to rebuild it from a pile of ashes.”

“But innocent people could be hurt,” she couldn’t help saying. “You’re just angry because the town defied you. But you can’t sacrifice innocent people for your own pride.”

“I can and I will,” he said emphatically. “Stay out of my way, Emma. You have no idea what I am capable of. Now, if you will excuse me, though I am willing to leave this town to its own devices, I will not allow my own property to be sacrificed because of their cowardice.”

He turned and walked away, leaving her to stand in the middle of the street and stare after him.

#####

It started near nightfall. A group of men entered town from the east, guns blazing, shots ringing out in the still evening air.

Reece stood at the window of his office. He’d watched Wilson approach the saloon from across the street and now he waited for the man to arrive at his door.

The sound of gunfire from somewhere in town reminded him of the war, of hiding in the homes of partisans while the Union army terrorized the citizens, and of being helpless to intervene because they were so grossly outnumbered.

Strike fast and retreat, that was their mode of operation. Inflict as much damage as possible as quickly as possible. Secrecy was imperative.

The rangers’ mission was to harass the Union Army, nip at their flanks, interrupt the flow of supplies, keep them off balance as much as possible. The men under John Singleton Mosby’s command struck at outposts, supply caravans, troop detachments, railroads. They confiscated everything from clothing and food to horses and weapons. And for that they were considered criminals, outlaws instead of regular soldiers.

They were the most hated, most feared and most renowned battalion in the Confederate army.

The people in the area of northern Virginia known as Mosby’s Confederacy had gladly protected Mosby and his rangers, with their lives if need be. In return, the rangers had attempted to protect them, though it was their very presence that endangered the populace in the first place.

“There’s about fifteen of them, Mr. MacBride,” Wilson said from behind Reece, dragging his mind back to the present.

Reece didn’t turn to look at the man who had spoken. His gaze remained fixed on the newspaper office where a dim light glowed in the upstairs apartment. He cursed under his breath, taking a long, angry pull on his cigar before replying, “Good, they took the bait. Has Grady signaled yet?”

“Not yet.”

Reece released a deep sigh of concern. By now Grady should have delivered word to the posse that Garrett’s gang had made their move. They should be waiting for his signal to ride back in and rout the outlaws.

“Keep me informed,” Reece instructed, looking at Wilson for the first time. “Let me know the minute you receive Grady’s signal.”

Wilson nodded and left, and Reece returned his attention to the street below.

It was a calculated risk, sending enough of a posse out to convince the Garretts it was more than a decoy and at the same time keeping enough men in town to defend his property and, if need be, the town itself.

Only two questions remained unanswered. When would the town capitulate and ask for his help? And how far was Reece willing to let this go before he intervened if they never asked?

He would not tolerate disloyalty.

The damage needed to be sufficient that the townspeople would bow to his rule again and realize he knew what was best for them. Once he felt he’d made his point, he would step in and play the hero.

In one way or another, his mine provided the livelihood of every family in town. That was hard to deny. But they needed him as much to keep the peace as they did to provide them with jobs and homes.

Merchants and prospectors were no match for hardened men like the Garretts and their bunch. And it was important for them to understand that.

The scent of burning wood filled his senses and touched the layer of memories so close to the surface tonight. There had been too many nights like this, nights when the cold held the air still as if it were frozen, as if even the heavens were afraid to breath and risk discovery. Nights filled with smoke and the sound of women screaming in terror as they fought frantically to save their belongings and what was left of their families from the fury of the Union army.

Reece wondered if terror had overwhelmed Sarah in the end. If only they hadn’t been in such a hurry to marry before his regiment left for the war. If only she’d returned to her parents’ home, she would be safe and alive today.

“
How did she die
?”
 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced himself to concentrate on the present. A fire blazed at the opposite end of town. Probably the drug store. At least Mr. Tyler didn’t keep residence over the store. But he’d never be able to rebuild without financial assistance. With his store gone, he could never provide the kind of collateral the bank would demand. His only alternatives would be to sell out or borrow money from Reece.

The same could be said for most of the other merchants. Reece could quite possibly emerge from this disaster in control of most of the real estate in town. And while he hadn’t planned to achieve that particular goal in this manner, there was no reason why he shouldn’t profit from the town’s betrayal.

He gazed to the right at the general mercantile where things were still quiet. And next to it, the newspaper office stood untouched. A curtain drew away from the upstairs window and dropped back in place again.

“Put out the light, Emma,” he muttered angrily.

Stupid woman. A light would attract the outlaws’ attention.

If there was one person in this town who deserved to be left to the mercy of the Garretts it was Emma Parker. She’d caused this situation with her damned newspaper, challenging his authority, stirring the town up. He’d had everything under control until she’d come along. Now, thanks to her, the town had rebelled to the point of daring to take a prisoner out of jail and set him free.

At first he’d enjoyed sparring with her. He’d looked forward to the contest of wills. But he’d underestimated her cleverness and her determination.

Her very presence here unlocked doors to a past he wanted sealed, and if that weren’t enough, her courage and innocence made him want to protect her.

He’d liked the feel of her in his arms far too much, and he wanted to do a great deal more than kiss her. But he feared his attraction for her went far beyond the physical.

Reece took another pull on his cigar and tried without success to steer his mind away. He could leave her to the Garretts. He had vowed not to get involved until the town asked for his help, and if he waited long enough, the Garretts would find her. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d allowed fate to take its course when it suited his purpose. But revulsion and rage shuddered through him when he thought of what they would do to her, and he knew he couldn’t allow that.

None of the methods he’d used to deal with his adversaries were of any use to him where Emma was concerned. He couldn’t shoot her or terrorize her. She seemed immune to his admittedly half-hearted attempts at intimidation. It seemed there was no answer to his dilemma. And part of the problem, if he allowed himself to admit it, was that he wanted her here almost as much as he wanted her gone. The very things that made him want to avoid her drew him to her.

The understanding and compassion in her eyes, the knack she had for seeing into his soul beckoned him like a warm campfire on a cold night. Her courage and tenacity earned his grudging admiration. Her beauty and sweetness stirred his blood and kept his senses in constant turmoil, clouding his judgment and distracting him from his goals.

In short, she seemed to have decided to make a life’s work out of destroying his peace.