Desperate Hearts (26 page)

“Sit still, boys. He’s coming,” Mitch said
softly.

All three men had packed up and moved their horses behind some of the masses of huge boulders that lay strewn over the vast flatland that led to the entrance to Witch’s Canyon. They hunkered down behind more rocks and waited as a fine black gelding made its way through the canyon entrance. A tall man wearing an expensive but obviously soiled and dusty suit coat sat astride the horse. He wore a black felt hat and held a fancy hunting rifle in his right
hand.

At the entrance he spotted the remains of Mitch’s campfire and reined his horse to a halt, looking around like a wild animal that sensed
danger.

“Morning, Mr. Radcliffe,” Mitch spoke
up.

Radcliffe whirled, his rifle instantly raised and ready to shoot. Mitch fired his own carbine. Radcliffe cried out when a bullet ripped through his hand and tore the rifle from it. The rifle went flying, slamming against a rock, the butt of the gun breaking away from the
barrel.

Mitch, Len, and Randy all moved out from behind the
rocks.

“We were kind of wonderin’ how long it would take you to figure out you couldn’t get out of that canyon,” Len spoke up, his own rifle leveled at
Radcliffe.

“You’re lucky a rattler didn’t crawl into your blankets to warm itself last night,” Randy added, also leveling a rifle at the man. “That canyon is full of ’em.”

“He probably wouldn’t have been bit,” Mitch said, moving into a position where Radcliffe could better see him. “Snakes don’t bite each other, and I’ll bet this man was the biggest, meanest snake in the
canyon.”

Radcliffe held out his bloody hand, his eyes wide, his body trembling. “I’m bleeding! And I’ve—” He opened his coat to show a huge bloodstain on his satin vest. “I’ve been…shot!”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Mitch told him. “Ain’t it, boys?”

“Sure is,” Len
answered.

Radcliffe swallowed, studying Mitch closely as his face began turning whiter before their eyes. “You’re the ignorant, murdering…low-life vigilante Emma’s been…sleeping with, aren’t you?” he sneered. “I saw you…a couple of times from a…distance. Someone…pointed you out to me…thought I was a
reporter.”

“Yeah, I’m the ignorant, murdering, low-life vigilante Emma’s been sleeping with, and I could blow your head off right here and now and get away with it. Out here in Montana, we vigilantes have a way of doing whatever the hell we want with murdering, thieving rapists. Ain’t I right again, boys?”

“Right again,” Len
answered.

“I suggest you get down off that horse,” Mitch told
Radcliffe.

Radcliffe just stared at him. “No.”

“Mister, you either get down, or I’ll shoot you off that horse. I’ll start with one ear, then the other, then an elbow, then the other, and once you fall, I’ll finish off both knees! Don’t try my very short patience. Get off your goddamn
horse
!”

Radcliffe winced as he slowly dismounted. He stumbled then, his knees buckling. He ended up sitting on the ground and grabbing his side with his good hand. “I’ve lost a lot of blood,” he told Mitch. “I…need a
doctor.”

Mitch motioned for Randy to grab the man’s horse. Randy walked over and took the animal’s bridle and led it aside. “Go get our horses, too,” Mitch told the
boy.

Randy hurried over to where their own horses were tied, and Mitch stepped closer to Radcliffe, Len staying close
behind.

“Too bad about you needing a doctor,” Mitch told Radcliffe. “Seems Alder’s doctor is occupied with someone else right now, a tiny, hundred-pound woman you choked until she couldn’t
breathe
!” He handed his rifle out sideways to Len, who took it from
him.

“Mitch, be careful. Remember what I told
you.”

Mitch walked up to Radcliffe, his hands balled into fists. “Get up, you worthless piece of
shit!”

Radcliffe hung his head. “Give me a
minute.”

Mitch grabbed him by his jacket and jerked him to his feet. “I said to get up!” he
growled.

“Mitch, watch yourself!” Len warned, stepping
closer.

“I’m
being
careful!” Mitch shot back. “You have no idea
how
careful!” He looked Radcliffe straight in the eyes. “So, you
are
my size.” He gave Radcliffe a shove, and the man fell back to the ground. “Tell me, Radcliffe, how does a man your size live with the knowledge that he’s the most worthless, cowardly, yellow cow shit of a man who ever walked?” On the word
walked
, he kicked Radcliffe in the side where he’d been
wounded.

Radcliffe screamed with the pain and rolled
away.

“God, how I wish you weren’t wounded at all,” Mitch told him, “so I could take pleasure in beating the hell out of you man-to-man! I guess I won’t get that enjoyment,
will
I?” On the word
will
, he slammed a booted foot upward under Radcliffe’s chin, sending him sprawling once
more.

“Mitch, let’s get him back to town,” Randy
yelled.

Mitch watched Radcliffe struggle to a sitting position. He bent over, fresh blood coming from his wound. “Call this your medical treatment,” Mitch told him, “because this is as close as you’ll get to
doctoring!”

“Please…no more,” Radcliffe
panted.

“Did my
wife
say the same thing to you when you were beating her?” Mitch knelt down and jerked Radcliffe’s head back by the hair. “Or maybe she never got the chance, since you were also trying to
choke
her to death!” He backhanded Radcliffe, then stood up, walking to his horse. He grasped the saddle horn and just stood there a minute, hanging his head. “God, I need to kill him so bad, Len.”

“All three of us would like that, but this has to eventually be explained back in New York, Mitch, and vigilantes have a bad enough reputation in other parts of the country. We don’t want to be called all-out murderers. Whatever happens to him in town, that’s somethin’ else. That’s not the doin’s of the
vigilantes.”

Mitch threw his head back, taking a deep breath. “Randy, see if you can get him back up on his
horse.”

Randy led Radcliffe’s horse back to the man. “Get on up there,” he ordered. “You’re damn lucky I’m not the one who decides what to do with you right here and now, mister, after the way you got me away from Emma’s place so’s you could beat the living shit out of her. All three of us would like to string you up on the closest
tree!”

Radcliffe just sat there, panting.

“Get up!” Randy
shouted.

“Wait a minute.” Mitch walked over to the man’s horse, untying a small carpetbag. He tossed clothes out of it, felt around inside it, then threw it down. “Where is the necklace, Radcliffe!” he
growled.

Radcliffe just sat there and shook his head. Mitch tore through every single item of the man’s supplies without finding the necklace. Then he walked up to Radcliffe and jerked off the man’s waistcoat while Radcliffe screamed with more pain. Mitch felt inside the coat and found an inside pocket in the silk lining. He reached into it and pulled out the delicate gold lace necklace. He held it up to Randy and Len. “This is what he killed Emma’s mother and then came after Emma
for.”

“Holy shit!” Randy exclaimed. “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like
that!”

Mitch carried the necklace over to his horse and dropped it into one of his saddlebags. “This necklace belonged to a member of the royal English family,” he told Len. “How about
that?”

Len shook his head. “I think you’re right in finding a safer place than Alder for that
thing.”

Mitch nodded. He removed his saddlebags and walked up to Len’s horse, throwing them over Len’s saddle. “And now you know how much I trust you. Keep an eye on the necklace for a while. When we get back to Alder, things will be pretty wild and I might have a lot of distractions. You ride on over to the bank and have Jim Powers put my saddlebags in his safe till I come for them. Don’t tell him what’s
inside.”

Len nodded, mounting up. Mitch walked closer to Radcliffe again and jerked him to his feet. Radcliffe glared at him with dark eyes that spoke of evil, and Mitch could see how the man so easily terrorized
Emma.

“Do you…realize who I am?” Radcliffe sneered at
Mitch.

“Do you realize who
I
am? I’m a vigilante, Radcliffe, and you’re the stinking rat-snake sonofabitch who was stupid enough to come to Montana to beat on a helpless young woman, your own
niece
, to boot! You gambled away your fortune, and you gambled with your life by coming here to try to steal the
necklace!”

“I am a…wealthy…respected businessman…from New York…City,” Radcliffe panted, “where the law…is handled professionally…by proper lawyers…and civilized…policemen…and fair judges. You can’t…touch me…here. The government will…send out…investigators if something…happens to
me!”

Mitch grinned. “Mister, you’re in Montana now. There isn’t a man alive, no matter how important he might be back East, who can help you out here. You tried to choke my wife to death, and before this day is out, you’ll feel a rope around your own neck! A lot of people in Alder love Emma, and you’ll likely face a mob when we get back. When a man is hung by a mob, he doesn’t die right away by getting his neck snapped, because ordinary angry townspeople don’t know a damn thing about the proper way to tie a noose. They won’t wait for a trial or a gallows to be built either. They’ll just string you up like a deer that’s being gutted, and you’ll slowly feel the air being choked out of you, and your face will turn purple, and you’ll kick till everything finally goes black. I’ve
seen
that kind of hanging, and I’m going to enjoy watching
you
hang that
way.”

Radcliffe trembled with pain and terror. “You’re a
lawman
! You can’t legally let that
happen!”

“I’m a
vigilante
. And out here, there is a very thin line between vigilantes and
outlaws
, Radcliffe.” Mitch grabbed Radcliffe, and in spite of the man’s size, Mitch literally threw him over his horse. Radcliffe screamed with pain. “Throw me a rope, Randy!” Mitch told the
boy.

Randy quickly obeyed, and before Radcliffe could try to turn his body and sit up in his saddle, Mitch grasped his wrists and tied a loop around them, then brought the rope under the horse’s belly and looped the rope around Radcliffe’s ankles, jerking tight so that Radcliffe was hog-tied to his horse
facedown.

“Let me up!” Radcliffe
screamed.

“This is how a rancher brings in stray calves, Radcliffe—but then, you wouldn’t know much about ranching or any other way of life out here in Montana, would you?” He leaned close to where Radcliffe’s head hung down. “I’d like to take credit for bringing you in, but I can’t. Seems that one little bullet from one little woman is what did you in, Radcliffe. It drained the energy out of you.” He looked over at Len and Randy. “We’ll chalk this one up to Emma,” he told them. “Don’t you think she deserves
that?”

“Sure enough does,” Len
answered.

Randy nodded, grinning.

“I guess showing her how to use that little pepperbox paid off,” Mitch added. “I told her it worked best up close, and by God, it sure does.” He walked over to his own horse and mounted up, wincing and rubbing his
eyes.

“You okay, Mitch?” Len asked “You just lifted a man who must weigh a good two hundred pounds or
more.”

“I’ll be all right.” Mitch glared at Radcliffe. “Let’s get that bastard to Alder and let the people there decide what to do with him. I have to get back to Emma, plus I have to see if Doc has something for this
headache.”

Len looked over at Randy. “Pick up the reins to Radcliffe’s horse and let’s get back to
Alder.”

“Sure enough.” Randy took hold of the reins and headed back east. Mitch followed, enjoying the groans and screams that came from Radcliffe’s lips as his body was jostled with every step his horse
took.

Len followed behind, nervous over the responsibility of taking care of what was in Mitch’s saddlebags. He shook his head at the realization that Mitch had married someone who came from money and could probably buy half of Montana for him.
And
I’ll bet he never lets her
, he thought. Radcliffe had murdered and risked prison and a hanging for that necklace, while Mitch wouldn’t want anything to do with it.
And
that’s why little Miss Emma loves
him.

Word spread fast that Mitch and his men were returning with the mysterious stranger who’d beat Mitch Brady’s wife and left her for dead. Most weren’t quite sure of the whole story behind it. They only knew what happened, and most were itching for
revenge.

A crowd gathered as soon as the men arrived with their half-dead culprit, and immediately the questions
flew.

“Who is he, Mitch?”

“Why’d he beat on your
wife?”

“Is he
dead?”

“We’re gonna hang
him!”

As soon as Randy saw Boot Tully, he jumped down from his horse and started whaling on the town drunk. The crowd circled around them, and Len dismounted and walked over to pull Randy off the poor drunken and older
Boot.

“He didn’t know!” Len warned Randy. “People here like
Boot!”

“What’d I do?” Boot asked, rubbing at a bleeding lip with one hand and holding a flask of whiskey in the
other.

“You took money from a stranger to start a fight and lure me away from Mitch’s place!” Randy answered, enraged. “Didn’t you wonder why that man paid you to do
that?”

Boot shrugged. “Heck, no. He gave me whiskey
money.”

“And he walked over and nearly killed Emma Brady, you stupid
drunk!”

Boot blinked, turning to look at the man Mitch brought in draped over his saddle. His eyes widened, and he looked up at Mitch. “I didn’t know, Mitch! You gonna hang
me?”

Mitch rubbed his aching head. “Not today, Boot. Just stay out of trouble, and don’t offer information to complete strangers. Send them to me or Len or Randy with their
questions.”

Len remounted, and he and Mitch continued down the street, a growing crowd following them. Randy shoved Boot aside. “You let that man make a fool of both of us!” he spat at Boot. He remounted and rode to catch up with Mitch and Len. After Randy’s row with Boot, the crowd was getting more worked up as Mitch and Len headed for the jail. A couple of men raised ropes in the
air.

“Hang him now, Mitch! He nearly killed your
wife!”

“No man oughta do what he
done!”

Mitch turned his horse when they reached the jail. He put up his hand to quiet the crowd as best he could as Len and Randy untied Alan Radcliffe and pulled him off his horse. The man collapsed to the ground, his shirt and vest covered with blood. “Need…a doctor,” he groaned
weakly.

“This man murdered his wife back in New York,” Mitch shouted. “She was Emma’s mother! I’m not going to explain all of why Emma fled this man and came to Alder, or why he came here and tried to kill Emma. I can only tell you she had good reason to fear for her life, and that it’s a fact Alan Radcliffe murdered her mother and tried to kill Emma. Where’s Judge Brody? Is he back from his circuit
yet?”

“Right here!” The bearded and aging Judge Leonard Brody moved through the crowd to stand closer to Mitch. He frowned at the sight of a groaning, bleeding Alan Radcliffe lying in the street. “Who shot him?” he asked
Mitch.

“Emma did when he attacked her yesterday. It was obviously self-defense.”

“What about his
hand?”

“I shot his rifle out of that hand when he intended to use it on me,” Mitch
answered.

“And Emma testified to you that he murdered her
mother?”

“She did. He pushed her down the stairs and she broke her
neck.”

Judge Brody scratched at his beard, then stepped up onto the boardwalk in front of the jail. With his deep barrel of a voice, he made the pronouncement. “I find this man guilty of murdering his wife and attempting to murder Emma Brady. I sentence him to be
hanged!”

“Wait a minute!” someone shouted. It was lawyer Carl Jackson. “The man deserves some kind of
defense!”

“Who’s gonna defend him, Jackson?” A man from the crowd stepped forward, holding a shotgun. “You?”

Jackson looked around. “Well, it’s…it’s just how things are
done.”

“You go take a look at Mitch’s wife and then tell us he needs defendin’,” another spoke up. “And how about her ma—layin’ dead in her grave cuz of this
sonofabitch!”

“Maybe we should hang you, too, Jackson!” another shouted. “Everybody in town knows what a shyster you
are!”

Jackson backed away and waved them off. “Do what you’re going to do,” he grumbled, walking
away.

The crowd went wild and pounced on Alan Radcliffe. Neither Mitch nor Len tried to stop them. Randy actually joined them as they dragged a screaming Radcliffe away. Radcliffe begged them to stop, cursed Mitch for not properly conducting his arrest, cursed the judge for his hoax of a trial, cursed the vigilantes as nothing better than murdering
outlaws.

Mitch looked at Len. “Are you a murdering
outlaw?”

Len grinned. “Fact is, I used to be
one.”

Mitch shook his head. “Damn. I always suspected as
much.”

“I just decided to use my gun for good instead of bad. Can I stay on as a
vigilante?”

“Depends. I offered you a different kind of job last night, if you will
remember.”

Len shrugged. “When you’re ready to take that badge off your shirt, I’ll consider working a ranch for
you.”

Mitch glanced at Doc Wilson’s office. “Right now I have to get my wife well. I also still need something for this blasted
headache.”

“You’d better get over to Doc’s then—and stop slinging two-hundred-pound men around like
babies.”

They could hear more screaming up the street. Mitch saw a rope being flung over a post in front of the livery. “Seems they took Radcliffe’s horse back to the livery for him.” He watched men hoist Radcliffe back up onto the horse. “Look, he’s even still riding it,” Mitch
commented.

Someone put a noose over Radcliffe’s head and tightened it while another man tied his hands behind his back. Someone smacked the horse’s rump and the animal took
off.

“He’s not riding the horse anymore,” Len
added.

Both men watched Radcliffe swing, his legs kicking in a desperate attempt to keep
breathing.

Mitch shook his head. “That kind of hanging is pretty ugly, isn’t
it?”

“Yup.” Len sighed deeply. “I’m going to the bank with these saddlebags. Then I’m going over to the Saddleback Saloon and have a drink. Then I’m gonna look up
Sarah.”

Mitch nodded. “Have yourself a good time.” He remounted and trotted his horse over to Doc’s. When he got there, Doc walked out to greet
him.

“Glad you’re back, Mitch. Emma’s doing pretty darn good and wanted to go home. She’s there now with Hildy. I sent Sarah home. She was pretty worn
out.”

Mitch nodded. “You sure she was well enough to go
home?”

“I wouldn’t have let her go if she wasn’t.”

Mitch breathed a sigh of relief as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You got more of that tonic for a
headache?”

The doctor nodded. “Give me a minute.” He stepped inside and returned a moment later with a small brown bottle. He handed it up to Mitch. “Drink some of this and go lie down with your wife. You both need rest and you need to be
together.”

Mitch took a swig of the
tonic.

“Not too much, or you’ll get a worse headache from the damn tonic!” Doc
warned.

Mitch grinned and slammed the cork back into the bottle. “You sure this isn’t just
whiskey?”

“It’s not, but I’d advise not drinking any whiskey after you’ve taken that
stuff.”

Mitch nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned his horse and headed for the other end of town—to the little cabin he and Emma called home. He dismounted and walked
inside.

“Mitch!” Hildy rose from the rocker to greet him. “She’s doing good, Mitch.”

Mitch removed his hat and guns. “Thanks, Hildy. You can go now. Take my horse to the stables for me, will
you?”

“Sure, Mitch.” Hildy pressed his arm. “We’re all real sorry, Mitch. I hope she gets completely well real
soon.”

Mitch patted her hand. “Thanks, Hildy. We both just need some peace and quiet now for a
while.”

Hildy left, and Mitch watched the look of relief on Emma’s face as he walked over to the bed. He sat down on the edge of it and pulled off his boots and unbuckled his guns, hanging them over the bedpost. Nothing was said until he climbed, fully dressed, into bed, collapsing beside Emma and pulling her close but being careful not to hold her too tightly because of her ribs. “I wanted to die when I saw what that man did to you yesterday. I’m so goddamn sorry, Emma. I broke my
promise.”

“You didn’t know,” she whispered, unable to fully use her voice yet. “Nobody knew.” She grasped his forearm, kissing it. “I’m glad…you’re home
safe.”

Mitch held her in that way he had of making her feel totally safe and
loved.

“It didn’t take much. You’re the one who caught him, Emma. That bullet in his side slowed him down and sapped his strength. You dealt your own justice this
time.”

Emma shivered in a choking sob. “When I saw those eyes
again…”

Mitch wished he could hold her tighter but was afraid of hurting her. “It’s over, Emma. He’s out of your life
forever.”

Emma winced with
pain.

“We could have stopped the hanging,” he told her, kissing her hair again. “Len and I declared what he did and Judge Brody went along with it, convicted him and sentenced him…and the town took him away…and Len and I just sat and
watched.”

Emma lay there a moment to catch her breath, then put her fingers to his lips. “You look so tired,” she said in an ugly, raspy whisper that tore at Mitch’s gut. “Just sleep, Mitch. It’s all right…what you did. I don’t…blame you…for what happened to me…or for how that man died. I just want to lie here…and enjoy the wonderful peace…of knowing he’s
gone.”

Mitch kissed her gently. “I can’t stand those bruises, the pain in your
eyes.”

Emma closed her eyes. “You have to stop blaming yourself…for your mother…for me. Please just sleep, Mitch.”

He let her settle into his shoulder. Before they fell asleep, they heard Randy and Len outside the
door.

“Len, I thought you were goin’ to see Sarah,” Randy
said.

“I am. I came over here to make sure everything was
okay.”

“I seen Mitch go in there and we ain’t gonna bother them. I’m gonna stand right here and make sure nobody else does either. I don’t need you to help
out.”

“If Mitch is in there, even
you
don’t need to be out here either. Besides, there isn’t a soul left in this town who’d want to bring either one of them any harm. Why don’t you go visit Hildy or something? She’s done a lot for Mitch and Emma. Go thank her in her favorite
way.”

“You’re an ass, Len Gray, a damn whorin’ outlaw.”

“And I’m enjoyin’ life to the
fullest.”

Mitch quietly grinned as the two kept exchanging barbs as they walked away, their voices
fading.

“Oh, my…God,” Emma whispered. “How did I…end up falling in with such
men?”

Mitch closed his eyes, glad that Doc Wilson’s tonic was finally taking effect. “Beats me,” he answered. He just then realized that Emma hadn’t even asked about the necklace. She was probably more relieved to know Alan Radcliffe was dead than worried about what had happened to
it.