Black Ransom (17 page)

THIRTEEN

“'FRAID I HAVE
some troubling news, Melinda. Think it best if I speak with you inside,” Buck Leighton said to the girl as he stood outside the doorway of her trim, modest country house.

Melinda's expression instantly took on a look of concern and she invited Buck in. They took a seat inside the parlor. Before Buck could speak what was on his mind, Melinda started to rise from her chair and offered him coffee, which he refused with a wave of his hand.

Melinda seated herself, and Buck spoke to the point.

“Heard from the superintendent at Rockmound,” he said, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “Some years back a letter was sent to the prison, written by your sister, informing Ehron Lee that . . . well, that you had died.”

It took a moment for Buck's words to register with her, but when they did, Melinda looked dumbfounded. Her lips moved but nothing came out.

“I confess I debated tellin' yuh this, Melinda,” Buck admitted. “But I figger you got a right to know.”

Faint words finally fumbled from Melinda's mouth. “I can't . . . no, she—she . . .”

Buck could understand Melinda's incredulity, but he'd had a totally different reaction upon learning of this. He wasn't a man to be disrespectful to the dead, but he saw Abigail Maguire as a right hateful person. From what he both knew about Abigail and had also experienced back at the jail when Ehron Lee was his prisoner, Buck recognized that this type of cruel tactic was not beyond her capability.

He gazed out the window into the yard, where little Charlie was playing. He exhaled a soft sigh.

“She said nothin' in the letter 'bout the boy,” he said.

Melinda was nervously massaging her hands. She looked down at the whitening of her knuckles and unclasped her hands.

“Hearin' this . . . it explains everything, don't it?” she murmured.

“Yeah . . . 'pears to.”

Melinda grimaced. “But to think that she . . . that Abigail would do something so awful.”

“Hard thing to accept,” Buck acknowledged.

“Even knowin' it's true, don't know if I
can
accept it,” Melinda said stubbornly, struggling to comprehend her sister's betrayal.

“Would you be mindin' if I was to ask you somethin' . . . rather personal?” Buck said.

Melinda didn't respond either way so Buck just pressed forward.

“Are you a Christian person?”

Melinda's expression became baffled, then she looked a little wary.

“Why do you ask?” she said tentatively.

“I'll be tellin' yuh,” Buck said, waiting for her answer.

Melinda's face went thoughtful, as though she had to search deep within herself for what to say.

“Wasn't raised in no church,” she said. “Ehron Lee and me . . . we didn't go to services. Never had much opportunity with Ehron Lee doin' most of the work 'round my sister's place. Do know that he felt strongly 'bout God. Always made a point of prayin' 'fore supper, even speakin' a word sometimes 'fore he'd go outdoors. Talked 'bout havin' read the Bible. Reckon bein' in the army does that to a soul.” She sighed in considering. “Don't really know what I feel.” She cast him another suspicious glance. “Why'd you be askin'?”

Buck waited for a few seconds before he said more. When he did reply, it was with a shrug. “Maybe no reason specifically. But . . . maybe it might help some with what I'm gonna tell yuh.”

Melinda cocked her head, expectantly if apprehensively.

“Ehron Lee got his release from Rockmound,” Buck told her outright.

Melinda's eyes focused sharply on him.

“When?” she asked anxiously.

Buck couldn't determine by her tone if she was excited by the news or possibly distressed. He could appreciate either emotion.

“Little over two weeks ago,” he said.

Melinda considered before she lowered her head. There was a strangeness to her voice when she said, “And he won't be comin' back. No reason to now.”

Buck said nothing.

“Where d'yuh suppose he went?” she asked rhetorically. After a hesitation she answered the question herself. “Nowhere really for him to go. Guess he'll just head somewhere and try to start a new life for himself. Maybe even if he'd never gotten that letter from Abigail, that's what he woulda done. Too ashamed to come back because of what they did to him. What they made him.” She spoke with some anger. “But it's so unfair. Him never knowin' the truth. Never . . . gettin' the chance to know his son.”

Buck felt her anguish. He understood because he had his own guilt. He thought that maybe he could have done more . . . though the reality was there simply wasn't anything else he could have done to help her husband.

“I think he woulda come back, Melinda,” Buck said gently. He spoke against what he truly felt—or wanted to see happen, but Melinda needed to hear these words.

Melinda's eyes started to tear.

“And yuh can't say ‘never,' Melinda,” Buck added encouragingly. “Anything can happen at any time.” He took a breath. “Hell, look how after so many years you and me just bumped into one another.”

Melinda gave him a weak smile accompanied by a faint nod. She appreciated Buck's comforting words though she felt in her heart, with a painful, regretful certainty, that she would never see her husband again.

Her beloved sister had made sure of that.

She thought about the question Buck had asked her. About her Christian beliefs. Although he didn't make clear why he had asked the question, Melinda realized that for her there was no simple answer.

For a while she'd hoped that Abigail's soul would rest in peace. But now she thought different. Until her own dying day, Melinda would never forgive her.

FOURTEEN

CORA RILEY HEARD
the hoofbeats of the horses, distant at first then steadily nearing the cabin, and fearing it might be unwelcome visitors, she hastened to rouse Jess Colfax and Randy Boggs from their corn whiskey–induced slumber.

Both men scrambled out of their bedrolls and instantly went for their revolvers.

“Douse that light,” Jess ordered Cora, who promptly extinguished the flame inside the lantern, plunging the house into darkness.

Jess and Randy inched toward the window in the kitchen, glancing outside into the night while they waited for the approaching riders to come into closer view.

No one uttered a sound; even their anxious breathing was muted.

The hoofbeats slowed as the two horses moved deeper onto the property. Jess squinted but was still unable to make out the identities of the riders; all he could see were three shadowed forms, two riding together on the same horse.

“What the . . .” he started to say.

Then—his mouth broadened in a grin.

“Well, I'll be a sonofabitch!” he bellowed. “It's Ward Crawford.”

Cora hurried forward to peer through the window. In seconds she, too, was smiling widely.

Only the laconic Randy seemed unimpressed.

“Likely come lookin' for another favor,” he said in his customary drawl.

“Burrows is with him . . . and so's some woman, looks like,” Jess observed.

Cora's expression turned hard and suspicious. “Who d'yuh s'pose
she
is?”

“Whyn't yuh let 'em in and find out,” Jess said, turning to her with a smirk.

Cora's jealousy wasn't well hidden. She narrowed her eyes at Jess. “That's what I intend to do.” She walked with determined strides into the main room and opened the door.

Ward ambled inside first. He greeted Cora expansively, with a big hug, lifting her off the floor and twirling her. Still uncertain about the female he'd brought along, Cora responded to his display of exuberance with reserve. Ward hardly noticed.

Janette Watson followed, prodded on by Ehron Lee. Cora eyed the woman icily—until she noticed the look of cold fear reflected on her features.

“This here is Mrs. Watson,” Ward said to the group. “She's come a long way and she's tired and I reckon a mite hungry. In fact, we all could use a bite, so Cora, why don't you rustle us up some grub?”

Cora's gaze remained braced on Janette.

Ward could detect Cora's uncertainty over their hostage. It amused him. He asked her again to fix them something to eat and then he'd explain the situation. Cora muttered that they'd already eaten supper but that she could fry them some eggs. Ward said if she scrambled his, that would be fine.

Ehron Lee and Ward sat at the table and wolfed down their meal, washing it down with some coffee Cora had brewed. Janette refused to eat and sat still and quiet in a chair in the main room. Her pose was stiff, she continued to wear the face of apprehension, but she hadn't uttered a sound.

She had already figured that she was to be a hostage, but why—and for what reason—she hadn't been told. Therefore she listened intently as Ward and Ehron Lee spelled out what they were planning to the others seated around the table.

“I think us bustin' yuh outta Rockmound paid yuh back in full,” Randy said after hearing what Ehron Lee and Ward had to say. “Cora's little brother died helpin' us do it.”

Ward deliberately ignored the comment about Brad being killed. He also avoided returning the look that Cora gave him.

“This ain't no part of any debt still owed,” he said. “Just somethin' you might wanta come in on.”

“Could be interestin', if there was some cash involved,” Jess put in. He leaned forward, planting his forearms on the table. “Just what is the payoff?”

“Ain't one,” Ehron Lee spoke up.

Jess and Randy glanced at each other.

“So what're you gettin' out of it?” Randy wanted to know.

Ehron Lee smiled slowly. “Call it ‘satisfaction.'”

“Damn poor reward if'n yuh ask me,” Randy said miserably.

Ward looked over at Janette. He told Cora to take her into the bedroom and to stay with her. He didn't want Janette to hear the rest. If she knew the outcome of what they were planning, she might attempt something foolish. It was best if she was kept in the dark until the moment of decision.

Cora didn't look pleased but she wasn't about to cross Ward. With a swift jerk of her head, Cora gestured Janette into the bedroom in which she slept, then she followed her inside and shut the door.

Ehron Lee lowered his voice and outlined the rest of the plan to Jess and Randy.

Randy, whom Ehron Lee had pictured as an agreeable, easygoing type, was suddenly adamant that he wanted no part of their scheme. Jess was less resistant but likewise had his doubts. As he told them, he couldn't see any reward for his participation.

“Two women kept hostage,” he said, considering. “You're gonna bring a heap o' trouble on all of us.”

“Not likely,” Ward said. “Watson and the judge are gonna know if they try anything funny, like reportin' to the law, they ain't ever gonna see their two ladies ag'in.”

“So if this judge and the other one show . . . and you kill 'em like you're plannin', what 'bout them girls?” Jess questioned. He hooked his thumb toward the bedroom. “That one in there has had a good look at each of us, 'specially you and Burrows.”

Ehron Lee frowned. “Ain't decided on that yet.”

“Well, you better make a decision,” Jess said. “'Cause you let 'em ride away afterward and you know right where they'll be headed. Every lawman in the state'll be after yuh. Hell, after
us
.”

Ward leaned back, tilting the front legs of his chair off the floor and balancing himself. “He's got a point.”

“Damn right,” Jess said bluntly.

Randy stood up from the table. “You can decide whatever yuh want, but count me out. My neck ain't quite in a noose yet.”

As Randy started to walk away Ward glanced at him over his shoulder and said, “You do what you have to, Randy. But this is where we'll be bringin' 'em, so you might do best to ride outta here.”

Randy looked disgusted. He gazed flatly at Jess.

“And you?” he asked.

Jess's eyes went from Ward to Ehron Lee.

“Don't care much for judges or lawmen,” he said simply.

Randy gave a hasty nod. “All right. I'll pack up my gear and ride out in the morning.”

He walked into the other bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Ward sat looking at that closed door for a while, as if pondering. Finally he said, “If I didn't know I could trust Randy, think I'd put a bullet into him 'fore sunup.”

“Trust nothin',” Jess commented. “Whether he cares to admit it or not, his neck is already deep in a noose.”

* * *

With the guarantee from the others that there were no hard feelings, Randy Boggs rode off early the next morning. He didn't say where he was headed and no one asked. It was part of an unspoken agreement among the outlaws that once any of them decided to part company with the others, his ultimate whereabouts would not be known to them. It was a precaution to prevent one from informing on his partners. If he did not know, he could not say, no matter how much pressure might be put on him.

Seated around the table having breakfast, Ehron Lee, Ward, and Jess discussed the next phase of the plan.

While doing his time at Rockmound, Ward had learned from questioning other convicts that Judge Harrison's family lived north, in the town of Bolton. That was another fair distance to travel, about a day-and-a-half ride straight through. It wouldn't be wise for Ehron Lee—and certainly not Ward—to attempt it alone. Jess couldn't be considered since he was a brutish-looking individual whose presence would immediately arouse suspicion among the townspeople.

Ward suddenly lifted his eyes from the table. “Cora could probably do it.”

The response from the others was slow in coming.

Finally Jess shook his head and stifled a laugh. “She's got a hard 'nuff time dealin' with there bein' one fee-male here. She sure as hell ain't gonna go out of her way to bring in another.”

Ward regarded Jess with a flat stare. Maybe Jess had a point but he hadn't come up with a better suggestion.

Jess looked away from Ward's cold eyes and tried to ease the tension. “That's 'bout three days' travel, at least. And Cora might be tough but she ain't no man. Can't see her havin' an easy time of it, keepin' that girl behaved on the ride back.”

Ward was silent, his eyes still leveled on Jess. Then he shifted his focus to Ehron Lee.

“Still think it should be Cora,” Ward said. “But someone should go along.”

“I'll ride with her,” Ehron Lee offered.

“Think that's smart?” Ward asked him.

Ehron Lee responded with a sardonic smile. “Sure. I'm a free man.”

Ward nodded. “Okay. Figger Jess and me can watch things here.”

“Be mighty sad if the two of yuh couldn't hold on to the reins of a lone woman,” Ehron Lee remarked.

His “humor” wasn't appreciated by the others and went unacknowledged.

“Still gotta talk Cora into goin' along with it,” Jess reminded them.

“Yeah, well . . . you let me handle that,” Ward said, unconcerned.

Cora wasn't easy to convince. She shared the same objections as Randy Boggs. She thought it was a crazy scheme. Risky, and with no reward to justify that risk. But what might override her doubts was the strong affection she had for Ward, and he eventually hoped to persuade her by taking her outside for a walk and expressing his own feelings for her, tender emotions that he was forced to exaggerate. Ward was a smooth talker and knew how to manipulate a gal like Cora, who may have possessed a rawhide exterior but inwardly was romantic and impressionable.

“Know none of this makes sense to you, Cora. But can't go on to any kind of life without first gettin' back at 'em for what they done,” Ward explained to her. “Burrows and I been carryin' 'round a burnin' hatred for a long time. Gotta snuff out that fire they put into us.”

Cora listened sympathetically, tried to let her feelings for Ward overcome her objections.

“I think it's wrong, Ward,” she argued. “Just plain wrong.”

Ward shrugged his shoulders meekly. “Mebbe. Probably. But wouldn't be the first wrong move I ever made.”

Cora's eyes drifted down to the dirt at her feet that she had unconsciously shuffled into a small mound, and she shook her head emphatically.

“You knew when yuh hooked up with us, none of us was chasin' an honest life,” Ward reminded her.

After a bit, with her head still lowered, Cora acknowledged his words with a slow nod.

“And though you been there to take care of us, we ain't never come right out and asked yuh for a favor,” Ward added in a more serious tone.

Cora finally surrendered. As she knew she would.

She spoke softly, uncertainly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Not askin' much.” Ward shrugged. “Just spend time 'round the town and check out the situation. See what you can learn 'bout Judge Harrison's daughter.”

Cora wrinkled her forehead. “How d'yuh suggest I do that?”

“Shouldn't be hard. Bolton's a small town. Can't be too much of a secret, her comin's and goin's. From what I hear, she's Harrison's only kid.”

“I know Bolton,” Cora said with a tilt of her head. “Grew up on a farm not far from there.”

Ward nodded. “Well, that's fine. Just pretend to be goin' 'bout your business. Maybe do some shoppin', stop to have tea in a restaurant. Get yourself known a little, just don't make yourself too suspicious. Try to find out what yuh can and let Burrows know.”

“And then what?” Cora asked carefully.

Ward tilted back his Stetson and scratched the side of his head. “Well . . . when the time is right, Burrows will step in, and the two of you bring her back here.”

“And then . . .” Cora pressed.

Ward moved forward and laid his fingers lightly against her cheek. “That, honey, is somethin' you don't gotta be worryin' yourself over.”

* * *

Ehron Lee and Cora started their ride toward Bolton just before sundown. It would be a clear evening and easy for travel. They wouldn't go far that night but counted on getting an early start in the morning that could see them into Bolton come tomorrow dusk.

They rode until after ten and camped out in a hollow off the trail, settling in the desert grasslands among a profusion of velvet mesquite trees. Ehron Lee collected dry wood to start a small fire while Cora pulled some canned beans from her pack. They'd left the cabin before having supper, intending to eat by campfire.

They ate quietly, offering only a few words to each other about nothing in particular. Ehron Lee suspected that the girl had questions, though, and after he was finished with his beans, tossing his empty can deep into the surrounding bush, he sipped the coffee Cora had brewed over the open fire and he volunteered his story. Cora listened in silence, occasionally nodding her head in sympathetic acknowledgment of all that he had endured. Yet there was no display of emotion in his telling. He could just as easily have been telling a trail story to cowhands. Cora thought that peculiar. All the same, she admired Ehron Lee's strength. By the time he was through, Cora well understood why Ehron Lee had set out on this vengeful path. Had she not spent many of her years alongside outlaws, she may have thought differently, looked upon this plan as a savage act, but living outside the law had become a way of life she understood. In an odd yet perfectly natural way, given her circumstances, it was also a lifestyle she had come to embrace.