Texas Twilight (33 page)

“
Drop
it,” Brandon demanded from the doorway. He stepped in and pointed
the muzzle of his gun at Boone’s head. “
Now
.”

Tucker bolted out the door and returned with
a bucket of water he’d scooped from the water trough and heaved the
contents up on the window, dousing the small flames. As he did,
John struggled to his feet and Lily rushed to his side.

“Are you hurt?” The words gushed from her as
she took his arm, steadying him. “Oh, your poor, poor face.” Her
hands softly examined the punishment his face had taken, and her
face blanched when she touched his scar. “I am so thankful he did
not shoot you, John. I could not have stood that.”

Gently, John took her hands in his, holding
them close to his chest. “Good to see you, Brandon,” he said, never
taking his eyes from Lily’s. “You’ve the knack of showing up at
just the right time.” Finally, he turned. He motioned to Boone
lying on the floor, grasping his bloody side. “Let’s get him locked
up. Charity’s in trouble.”

***

The sun was just coming up when they finally
stopped. The Mexican slid from his horse and jerked Charity’s arm
so that she fell into the dirt. Bloody and bruised from her
attempted escape, she blinked several times, trying to focus.
Earlier, she’d leapt off the galloping horse, figuring the fall
would be better than what her captor had planned. But he’d caught
her easily and slapped her around. Thank God he’d been in too much
of a hurry for anything else. Her main regret was that she’d lost
her coat, and the little protection it gave.

Through squinted eyes she watched her captor
hand his reins to a woman, then drink from the jug he was offered.
Several other women gathered, waiting to see what was going to
happen.

Another man approached. When he saw Charity
in the dirt, he stopped short, anger darkening his eyes. He was
older, with sinewy arms and long black hair. He glanced at her
again then cursed furiously at the younger man, spitting into the
dirt.

Scrambling to her feet, she met her captor
face to face. He spun her around, then pushed her forward. They
climbed a rocky hill where more of the outlaw’s encampment was
visible. A few small fires still burned and horses were tethered
about.

They stopped at a structure half carved into
the rocky hillside. The man opened the door and shoved her in,
closing the door and snapping the lock. She tried to block her
fall, but she hit hard, taking gravel on her face and in her mouth.
She lay there, giving into the luxury of a groan as she looked
about the room. It was small, a ten by ten box at most. The ceiling
would barely clear her head if she stood. She shivered. The images
of her loved ones back in Montana flitted through her mind in
jagged pieces. Her mother and father. John. Luke. The rest of her
family.

Brandon
.

Oh, how she loved them all. Would she live to
see them again? Would she ever have another chance to tell them
just how much they meant to her?

D
ustin bolted
into the jail just as John and Brandon swung the cell door closed.
Winston wasn’t far behind his son. “What’s going on? We heard a
shot. Saw the lights from the alley.”

“Boone’s killed the sheriff,” John answered,
motioning to the back of the sheriff’s office where the body of
Sheriff Dane was laid out on the cold stone floor. Pete Miller, the
deputy, looked dazed, and Harland sat in his cell, watching.

Winston sucked in a big draught of air, his
expression shifting from sleepy to alarmed. “Why the hell…”

John held up his hand for silence. “It’s a
long story, Uncle Winston, and one we don’t have time to go into
right now. Charity’s been taken by a Comanchero and we need to
rescue her. How many men can you round up quickly?”

Brandon started for the door.

“Hold up, Brandon,” John barked.

“I’m going after her. The longer we sit here
talking—- the likelier—”

“You’re right.” John jogged to his friend’s
side and Dustin followed.

“Go on,” Winston agreed with a wave of his
hand. “I’ll gather together a posse and follow as quick as I can.
My best guess would be to head north-west. To the boarded up ghost
town. It’s been rumored on and off for years that the Comancheros
sometimes use it for a hangout. Could be a goose chase but without
any other direction, at least it’s a start.” He looked uncertain.
“Don’t know...”

When the three men exited the sheriff’s
office they found Tucker and Theodore waiting with John and
Dustin’s mounts, saddled and ready to ride. The boys had also
retrieved Brandon’s horse from around back. Theodore was mounted on
his own horse and Tucker swung aboard another, clearly intending to
come along. Brandon mounted up, as did John and Dustin.

“
Tucker.
Theodore,” John said, quickly taking stock of the rifles and
ammunition the two had gathered together. “I know you want to come,
but too many riders will be conspicuous. You’re needed here to
watch over the women. Until we know
why
Charity was taken, the rest of the town could still be in
danger too.”

When Theodore opened his mouth to protest,
Brandon intervened. His face was stern. “John Jake is right. We may
not make it back. If that’s the case, you’ll be the next line of
defense.” With that, he turned his horse and took off at the
gallop, John and Dustin fast on his heels.

From her bedroom window Lily watched the men
ride away into the night, then said a silent prayer for their safe
return. She squelched a shiver at the thought of Charity in the
hands of those horrible men. “God speed,” she whispered, her hand
against the cold pane of glass. She wasn’t sure if her desire for
John was creating something out of nothing, but it seemed as if
things had changed between the two of them. She’d seen it in his
eyes. Felt it in the way he’d held her hands next to his chest.
She’d wanted to stay like that forever and just let the world pass
them by. But time had been of the essence, and they needed to find
Charity.

The tumult Boone had caused in the shop had
awakened Tante Harriett. She’d been so scared that Lily had helped
her up even though it was the dead of night, settling her in her
chair next to the window, wrapped in a warm quiet. She was there
now, still agitated, with a pair of knitting needles forgotten in
her hands.

Tante Harriett had been terrified after John
and Brandon had taken Boone away. It was as if her worst nightmare
had come true right before her eyes. She’d heard the screaming and
the fight. And then the gunshot that rattled the walls and sent the
acrid smell of gunpowder throughout the place. Confused, she’d
called to Lily by Lily’s mother’s name, alarming her tremendously.
And there had been no convincing her otherwise. Finally, Lily had
had to agree with her, affirming she was someone other than who she
was, just to calm her down.

The tea kettle was on the fire and as soon as
the water was hot, Lily would make a cup of tea for both of them as
there’d be no sleeping again this night. She expected Emmeline,
Becky, Winnie and Madeline to be coming over to the shop at any
time. She peeked into her aunt’s room and asked, “Tante, are you
doing okay?”

Tante Harriett’s head jerked up with a start,
as if she’d been deep in thought. “Oh, it’s you, Gretchen. Yes, I’m
fine.”

Lily felt a niggle of unease creeping up her
spine. “It’s me, Tante. Lily.”

“I’ve been thinking about all the things I
have to do this day. So many I fear I will never be done. Just
look,” she said, holding up the knitting needles, the ball of
string forgotten on the rug. “I may never get this sweater done in
time for mother’s birthday. It’s taking me forever. And the carpets
need beating and I promised to take some fresh milk to the
market.”

Lily nodded and backed away, her heart
breaking. When she saw the kitten she picked it up and took it into
Harriett, laying it the older woman’s lap. “She will keep you
company until I return with our tea.”

“Thank you. I’ve always said you’re the most
thoughtful sister anyone could ever have.” She stroked the kitten,
now curled in her lap like a donut, with shaking hands.

A noise by the alley door drew Lily’s
attention. “The others are here. I’ll go down and let them in, and
bring you back a nice cup of tea.

Relieved to have company on this strange
night, Lily hurried to let the others in. When she turned the knob
the door flew open, and hit the wall with a bang. Boone burst in,
holding his side.

“Hold up,” John shouted to Brandon, still
riding hard in the lead. “It’s not going to do Charity any good if
we run our horses to death. We have to stop. Let them breathe.”

A few seconds went by before Brandon’s large
bay gelding began to slow down. John reined in Bo, and Dustin
followed suit. Soon the three sat their mounts side by side in the
early morning light, an amber yellow glow limned the horizon. The
horses’ chest heaved and frothy white lather dripped from their
sides. John was the first to dismount and loosen his cinch. He
walked his horse slowly in a circle.

They’d been following Dustin’s directions and
would be to the ghost town within a quarter hour. “How’re you
feeling about this town Uncle Winston has sent us to?”

“Hopeful,” Dustin answered. “Without this
lead, we’d be buggered up. I just have a feeling he’s right about
this.”

“If he’s not?” Brandon was distracted. He
gazed out over the quiet landscape as if he could see Charity
through the miles and darkness.

“We have to go with it, for now,” John said.
“I have a feeling that it’s right, too.”

Brandon felt his horses’ hide to see how he
was cooling. “Or, could turn out the same as it did for your ma,
John Jake. Held captivity for a year, was it? It was a miracle
Flood got her back at all. History may be repeating itself.”

John placed his hand reassuringly on
Brandon’s back. “That’s not going to happen. We’ll get her back,
Brandon. I’m betting my life on it. I’m not returning to Rio Wells
without her. She’s always been there for me, and now I aim to repay
her.”

All three tightened their cinches and
remounted. “We need to take it more slowly from here,” Dustin said.
He pointed to the rise above the abandoned road that they were
traveling on. We’ll go up and stay behind the rise until we get
closer. Then, we should split up and make a quick sweep of the
town, then re-group.

“Sounds good.” Brandon’s horse tossed his
head in agitation, then pulled on his bit. “Let’s go.”

L
ily gasped as
Boone grabbed her and clamped his hand over her mouth, backing her
into the kitchen. A gun hung threateningly from his other hand.
Closing the door behind him, he never took his eyes from her
face.

“Now,” he whispered. “I’ll have the jewel. I
haven’t come all this way and worked all these weeks to leave empty
handed.” He winced in pain.

John’s
words of warning ripped through her mind. “
Once he has the jewel we’re all
dead
.” Was he right? If
she gave it to Boone would he leave without hurting her or her
aunt? She wasn’t sure.

“We can do this the easy way—” he reached
around and grasped the back of her hair and yanked down, bringing
her upturned face within inches of his, “—or not. Your choice.” He
quickly let her go, his gaze darting around. He opened the drawers
and dumped them out, scanning the contents. He fingered through her
cupboards. She glanced to the closed door to the alley and wondered
if she dare try an escape.

“Forget it,” he chuckled. “You know you’re
going to give it to me. May as well make it easy on yourself.”

“How did you escape?”

“The old man thought I was hurt worse than I
was. Came in to doctor me.”

Her blood pulsed. “Is he…dead?”

“
Shut up
. I’m
asking the questions.” He’d already moved rapidly about, searching
all he could downstairs, pulling the bolts of fabric and lace from
the walls and dropping them into a pile on the floor. “I want that
jewel,” he shouted. After rifling through her book of sketches, he
threw it across the room in a fit of rage, raining pages down like
leaves in the fall. He clenched his side and groaned.

After a moment he grasped her arm and
propelled her up the stairs, bumping the walls in the confined
space as they moved. At the top he shoved her down, then began
searching. He ran his hands through the seams of the upholstered
chairs, turned things over, and left nothing unexplored.

Lily wanted to run to Tante Harriett, make
sure she was okay, but Boone kept her close to his side. In Lily’s
room he dumped out her highboy drawers, picking through her things.
When he found her box of personal keepsakes he all but shook with
excitement, but again was disappointed. All that was left to check
now was her aunt’s bedroom. Harriett gasped when he pushed open the
door, one Lily felt sure she had left open when she’d gone
downstairs. Her aunt, still sitting where Lily had left her,
blanched when she saw Boone.

Angrily, he opened her closet, pulling out
her aunt’s belongings, then tossing them to the side. Tension
crackled in the air and Lily felt sure he was ready to explode.
When he spotted Tante Harriet’s satchel next to her chair, he
stopped. “Here,” he said, in a frenzy. “It has to be here.”

When that didn’t produce the gem he turned on
Lily, murder glistening in his eyes. Pushing her roughly to the
bed, he towered over her as she strove to remain steadfast. She
would not cower.