Circle Eight: Vaughn (6 page)

“Ow, shit!” The man let loose a string of curses while Ellie kicked the third man in the balls.

Free of their grip, she scrambled backward toward the man whose life she’d saved. If he caused her death, she would have to kill him herself.

“Got yourself a helluva a she-cat.” The man, presumably Gibson, lifted the rifle and aimed straight at her head. “I’d hate to decorate this walls with her blood. I reckon I’ll have to if you don’t hand over what you took.”

Elizabeth bared her teeth at him. “I’ll make sure to come back and haunt you until the day you lose your miserable life.” Anger made her reckless but she didn’t care. These men had invaded her home, threatened her and dared to treat her as though she was inconsequential.

“Leave her be.” Vaughn stepped into the light with one hand hidden behind his leg. If she was right, he held Martha’s pistol.

Gibson spied Vaughn’s clothes and laughed. “You look mighty foolish.”

“Better to look stupid than be stupid.” Vaughn gestured to the door with his other hand. “The lady told you to leave and I must insist you do so.”

“You must insist, huh?” Gibson shook his head. “Just ’cause you talk fancy doesn’t mean shit. You owe me, O’Connor, and I damn well expect to get what’s due.”

Vaughn’s jaw visibly tightened. “I told you I don’t have it. It’s gone forever. Do you need me to draw you a picture?”

“Then you best figure out a way to get what you owe me for it. I ain’t letting you out of my sight until you do.” Gibson slid toward Elizabeth. “Maybe if I take her, too, you’d be better apt to do what I tell you.”

Dread wound its way through her bones. She turned to Vaughn. “What do you owe him?”

“Nothing of consequence.”

“It ain’t nothing.” Gibson waved the gun. “We was partners and you took everything and disappeared. You owe me.”

“You stole his money, didn’t you?” She had a suspicion her guest was not who he said he was. Too many men were taken advantage of by unscrupulous people even if they were dirty dogs to begin with.

“Gibson is telling you half a story. I won’t stand here and debate this. I’ll go with you but she stays here.” Vaughn stepped in front of her and shoved the gun into her belly. She grabbed it just before it fell, tucking into her skirt pocket.

“Oh no. It ain’t that easy.” Gibson cocked the rifle. “You both go or you both die. Right here. Right now.”

“Elizabeth?” Martha’s muffled voice surprised everyone. “Is everything all right?”

“Who is that?” Gibson’s brows rose. “Another lady for us to meet.”

Elizabeth gripped the gun so hard, her knuckles hurt. “That’s my grandmother. You leave her alone.”

“You spend a lot of time throwing around orders, Elizabeth. Some man ought to teach you how a female minds her manners.” He walked toward the back of the house, toward Martha.

Now the fury took second place to fear. Elizabeth couldn’t allow her adoptive grandmother to be hurt. No matter what she had to do. One bullet wasn’t going to kill all three of them and Gibson could kill her just as fast with the rifle. She would bide her time until she could find a way to get rid of all these men, including Vaughn, the lying son of a bitch.

“I’ll go with you,” she blurted.

“No, you won’t.” Vaughn scowled at her.

“Yes, I will. Now shut up.” She wasn’t going to beg, but by God, she would be heard. “Leave Granny here and I’ll go.”

“No, you won’t.” Vaughn was like a dog with a bone, gnawing on her last nerve.

“Shut up, both of you.” Gibson grimaced at Vaughn. “Seems as though she wins this argument.”

“I won’t have it. This lady saved my life and doesn’t deserve to be tarnished by the likes of you.” Vaughn ignored her in favor of arguing with their soon-to-be captor.

“Tarnished? I wouldn’t hurt her.” Gibson’s expression said otherwise but Elizabeth kept her mouth closed. She had to save Granny. “Tie her up. Him too.”

The men yanked off their neckerchiefs and made quick work of tying their hands. Vaughn shot arrows at her from beneath his thunderous brows. She glared back at him, wondering just how she could get word to her family about what happened. Her brothers would come after her, of that she was certain.

“I saw a few mounts in the barn. Go saddle two of ’em.” Gibson sent one of his men off while the other stood at attention, pistols aimed at Elizabeth and Vaughn. At least she still had the Colt. It could save her if she timed it right. “Now march outside and don’t give me any more trouble.”

The early morning air had a hint of honeysuckle, sweet and fragrant. She walked across the ground, the familiar dirt beneath her shoes. Her mind told her to focus on how to get out of the ridiculous situation while her heart kept telling her to shoot Gibson in his black heart. Although her hands were tied, she was sure she could get the gun out, maybe not quickly, but she could do it. If she were wrong, or if they spotted her struggling with her pocket, then her element of surprise was gone.

The second man came out of the barn with two of the cow ponies saddled. They were solid, if slow, animals. Javier and Lorenzo usually used them. Sweet God, what would her family think when they returned home to find her gone and Martha alone? It would be another two days at least and Martha could barely walk. There was a distinct possibility she could starve or fall.

Anger bubbled back up her throat. “Where are you taking us?”

“Where I can make him tell me the truth, if’n he knows how.” Gibson shoved Vaughn until he stumbled.

As soon as she had the chance, she would find out who Vaughn Montgomery or O’Connor was. He had likely been lying to her from the moment he opened his mouth. The man was a conniving snake and had put her family in danger because of it. Maybe she should use the bullet on him instead, but it seemed a shame to waste it. She wasn’t about to revisit what she’d done with him the night before.

“Why do you need me? I’ll only slow you down.” She had to try to stop this ridiculous series of events before things got out of control.

“You made a deal with me, missy.” Gibson was in her face, his fury palpable. “Are you a liar too?”

She poked him with her tied hands. “I don’t lie. Ever. I keep my word. What about you? Do you keep your word?”

“We ain’t talking about me.” Gibson could do with a bar of soap and a razor. If he wasn’t a lowdown jackass he might have been a decent man.

“That’s what I expected. A whole lot of nothing.”

Gibson’s expression changed at her words. A shadow passed over his face and his whiskered jaw tightened. “Jeb!”

The man holding the pistols jerked to attention. “Yes, Tobias?”

“Burn it. All of it.”

Elizabeth didn’t even remember throwing herself at Gibson but she found herself on top him again, her tied hands slamming into his face. Blood gushed from his nose while he howled for someone to get the crazy bitch off him.

“You solve your own problem, Gibson.” Vaughn had a prideful tone in his voice, as though pleased by her violent outburst. “She’s killed a man before, you know.”

“I can’t take my guns off O’Connor, Tobias,” the one named Jeb whined.

Gibson grabbed her wrists, nearly crushing the bones. “You stop fucking hitting me. Now.”

Elizabeth’s cheeks were wet but she wasn’t crying. It had to be sweat. “You threaten to burn my house, my barn, my horses and my goddamn grandmother and you want me to stop hitting you?” she screamed with all the rage of a Graham.

“Dammit, Jeb, shoot her.” Gibson tried to throw her off but she wouldn’t let loose.

Vaughn growled. “You shoot her and I will tear your throat out.”

She had no time to consider that Vaughn was protecting her. She had a two-hundred-pound bull beneath her, ready to kill. Tobias bucked until she lost her balance and fell sideways. Then his fist plowed into the side of her head. Pain exploded as stars danced across her vision and blood filled her mouth.

“Dammit, Gibson, I should have known you hit women.” Vaughn scooped her up with his bound hands, as though he hadn’t been lying in a bed for two days out of his head from a head wound. “You touch her again and I’ll hit you so hard, you’ll be eating mush the rest of your miserable life.”

The coppery taste of blood coated her mouth. “Stop him.” Elizabeth didn’t want to ask Vaughn for anything but she had to stop them. “Don’t let him burn my ranch.” Physical pain warred with the pain in her heart over the possibility of losing everything.

It wasn’t as if the Grahams hadn’t lost before, including their parents to murder all those years ago. They had recovered, gotten stronger and built a successful ranch that supported the family. This man was going to slice across their belly, spilling their blood onto the dry Texas ground. Killing Martha and the stock would be devastating to them. To her.

“Big man throwing out big words while your hands are tied and you gotta woman in your arms.” Gibson snorted. “Will, bring them horses over. We’re leaving. Jeb, do what I told you.” He wiped the blood off his face and flicked it toward the ground.

Elizabeth vowed to kill this man, this bastard who thought it was his right to destroy her family’s home and leave death and destruction in his wake. She would carry his death on her conscience and be glad of it. Elizabeth never considered herself violent, but the blood of the Grahams ran through her veins—hundreds of years of warriors who fought for their family and their land. A sense of honor, courage and rightness surged through her.

“If you do this, I will kill you.” The words burst from her mouth and Vaughn’s arms stiffened around her.

“That’s a risk I can take.” Gibson’s jaw tightened. “Now move your ass.”

Elizabeth fought against them but they took her from Vaughn’s arms, pushing him onto the ground. Gibson kept his boot on Vaughn’s neck while Will tied her to the horse. She wasn’t strong enough to stop them and the one damn bullet she had wouldn’t stop the crimes that were about to occur.

Helpless, she watched Will strike a match on his boot and set it to a bundle of hay on the ground outside the barn. He darted across the yard and lit another bunch of hay, then dropped it at the front door. The very porch her mother’s blood had stained so many years ago. Bile coated the back of her throat and impotent rage made her howl with fury.

“Martha, run, dammit, run!” She screamed until her throat ached and she had no spit left in her mouth.

Gibson gave her an inscrutable look. “You got a set of lungs on you, girl.”

She bared her teeth, fury pumping through her veins fast and fierce. “Untie me and I’ll show you what else I can do.”

“I reckon that ain’t a good idea.” He looked down at Vaughn. “Your woman here is more a man than you are.”

“Fuck you.” Vaughn struggled to dislodge the boot but with his hands secured, he couldn’t budge Gibson.

“Let’s go, boys.” Gibson gestured to the prone Vaughn. “Get him up on that horse and tie him tight. If he don’t like it, then make him.”

Elizabeth had never felt such warring emotions. She was tight with the urge to do violence, to seek revenge on the Gibsons for their crimes against the Grahams. Until this moment, she’d never felt such blood lust. The crimes committed against her family had always hit her hard, but nothing like this. Something had awakened inside her. Lorenzo called it la musica del dentro, the music inside. The ranch hand, and Eva’s son, had been like a brother to her all her life. He’d warned her she hid her true spirit. Now, all was revealed and she was both frightened and glad of it.

As they rode off into the day’s light, the fire licked at the boards and the acrid smell of smoke wound its way across the night air. Rage tasted good on her tongue and she looked forward to the moment she would exact her vengeance against Gibson.

Martha Dolan was tired, so very tired. She had lived many years on the earth and looked forward to the day she could rest in the arms of heaven. Today, however, was not that day. She was spitting mad and wished she hadn’t given Vaughn the damn pistol. Whoever it was that threatened the Grahams needed to be shot and she would be happy to do the deed herself.

Some low down rotten skunks had beat up Ellie and Vaughn, then dragged them out the door. She had managed to shuffle to the door when the commotion happened in the great room. Then shortly after, she heard Ellie scream, telling her to run. That didn’t bode well for the two of them or for Martha. Yet she heard the warning and heeded it.

She managed to pull on a shawl and open a window. Her room had a bench right outside the window in the garden. Mother to the lovely children Martha now considered her own family, Meredith Graham had loved to sit there in the shade of the tree she was buried under. Martha was damn glad of that bench as she hauled herself out of the window and into the night.

Her bones protested, quite loudly, at the effort to extract her carcass from the window ledge. The bench was a little slice of paradise to sit on. Her heart beat so hard, her teeth rattled. Her breath came in gusts and she trembled from the effort of escaping the house. While she didn’t know what happened to Ellie, it wasn’t good. She caught a whiff of smoke and her dread grew.

Martha was old as the dirt beneath her slippered feet but she stood and started across the yard. No matter what, she would survive to tell the rest of the family what happened. She wouldn’t let Elizabeth down.