The Lawman's Betrayal (10 page)

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Authors: Sandi Hampton

Tags: #Western,Scarred Hero/Heroine

BOOK: The Lawman's Betrayal
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About an hour later, the walls of Blanco Canyon towered against the azure blue sky. The sun-bleached cliffs caught the light and appeared to be on fire. Their path lay through the buttes—a perfect spot for an ambush—and the last place where their pursuers could hide between here and town. He kicked his horse into a trot and caught up with the Caine brothers. “Hold up, boys.”

“Yeah?”

Wes pointed at the peaks. “If our friends are going to try anything, I think it’ll be in Blanco Canyon. Lots of places to dig in and ambush us. We’ll be sitting ducks.”

“You’re right, Marshal,” John agreed.

“We can go around,” Joseph added. “But it’ll cost us a day’s ride.”

“I know, but it might be worth it.”

“But there’s seven of us,” Joseph protested. “Only four of them. They’d be stupid to try anything.”

“Only four that we know of—and desperate. This is their last chance before we reach Gila Bend. Besides, they’d have position on us,” Wes reminded him. “They can sit up in those rocks and pick us off one by one.”

“So what do you want to do, Marshal?”

“I think I’ll ride in and check it out. Maybe flush them out. You all stay here.” Wes pulled his rifle, checked the ammunition, and glanced at Naomi. “I don’t want to endanger anyone.”

“Don’t be a fool, Wes. That’s suicide,” Naomi said sharply. “I’d rather take the long way around.”

He shook his head. “The other way is more dangerous. The longer we’re out here, the most vulnerable we become.”

“You’re not going in there without us.” John pulled his rifle. “I’d rather face whoever’s in there than face my pa and tell him we let you go in there alone.”

“Amen, brother,” Joseph added.

The other men grabbed their rifles. “We ain’t facing Mr. Craine by ourselves either. No siree.”

“Oh, you men. You’re all crazy,” Naomi yelled as she pulled her rifle from its boot. “Well, you’re not leaving me. Let’s go.”

An eerie silence fell over them as they entered the canyon. No wind whistled through the peaks. No birds sang in the morning stillness. No movement caught Wes’s attention. He didn’t know if that was good or bad.

He led the way, followed by John and Joseph. The Rocking R hands brought up the rear, circling around Naomi, forming a protective barrier. The sun glinted off the white peaks, forcing him to raise his hand to shield his eyes. The further they rode, the hotter it seemed to get. Sweat ran down his back and between his shoulder blades like a waterfall.

A hawk screeched from its perch high atop the steep cliffs, sending pebbles down the rocky slopes as it soared into the air. Wes tightened his grip on the rifle. Beside him, the ranch hands readied their guns. “Something spooked that hawk. Get ready.”

Just as he said those words, a bullet thudded into the dust in front of him. His horse reared, and he grabbed the saddle horn, squeezing his knees against the horse’s flanks to stay in the saddle. He returned fire, as did John and the other men.

He turned to yell at Naomi to hide in the rocks. To his surprise, she fired her rifle at a glint of sun off metal. Her bullet hit the rock, and a chink of stone sparked off. The other riders opened fire, peppering the same spot with a hail of bullets.

“Ride,” Wes yelled. “Get Naomi out of here. I’ll cover you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her jab her heels into her mount’s flanks, sending the animal galloping down the canyon path, two ranch hands following close behind her. As soon as she was out of sight, Wes jumped from the saddle and dove behind a boulder. John and the others did the same.

“Cover me,” he yelled. Crouching low, he darted toward the next outcropping of stone as the men fired non-stop at their attackers. Dust kicked up as a bullet landed at his feet. As he zigzagged to his left and then to his right, the bullets followed him. He winced as a bullet hit his arm. Just a flesh wound. A curse slid from his lips.

Finally, he made his objective, a natural path in the rocks that wound upward. If he could get high enough, he might get a drop on the shooters. Loose stones slid beneath his feet, and he struggled to keep his balance. From behind him, the men continued their assault. At last he was high enough, almost level with his attackers.

Positioning himself between two boulders, he had a clear target in front of him. Taking careful aim, he fired. His bullet found its mark. The man toppled over the cliff and plummeted to the rocks below. Then Wes turned his attention to the second shooter who soon met the same fate. The other outlaws scrambled away and made their escape.

As Wes climbed down from his perch, he glimpsed Joe and two of the Rocking R hands riding up. “Naomi?”

“She’s safe,” Joe answered.

“Good. Let’s get outta here just in case there’s any more of these bastards hanging around.”

As they rounded the bend in the road Wes saw her. He sighed in relief. She jumped to her feet and raised her rifle. As he reined in his horse, she darted forward.

“You’re all right. Oh, thank God.” She glanced at the others. “All of you, thank God.” Then she saw the blood on his arm. “You’re bleeding. You’ve been hit.”

“Just a flesh wound. Nothing to worry about. Mount up.”

She hesitated. “Go on now,” he urged. She climbed into the saddle and followed the men out of the canyon.

Chapter Eight

Two hours later, Gila Bend came into view. Mixed feelings warred in Naomi’s chest. The town that had once been her home, the townspeople her friends, now seemed alien and frightening. For a moment, she considered turning tail and running. Then she reminded herself why she was there. Mentally, she scolded herself for being a coward. After all, these men had risked their lives to get her here.

And here she’d stay.

At least until she found the person who’d framed her. Now all she had to do was figure out who that was. She’d had a lot of time in prison to think about it. She listed the suspects in her mind. She blew her breath out in disgust—she had no suspects, other than the man of her nightmares. Roy hadn’t had any business associates in the area that she knew of. Nor any enemies that she knew of. One person she did want to talk to though was the woman who testified that her friend Rita had been Roy’s mistress. Naomi still found it hard to believe Roy had had a mistress. Surely, she would have known that, felt it someway…a woman’s instinct? Wouldn’t she? Hopefully, the Morales woman was still in town. Naomi could only hope that her presence would chase someone from the woodpile.

Wes pulled up beside her. “Well, we made it.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks to you and the other men. I was very naïve to think I could’ve made it on my own. I never dreamed…someone would try to kill me, that someone wanted me dead.”

“Well, we fooled them. Now that we’re here, what are you going to do? Have you thought about that?”

“Nothing but that.” She pushed her hat back and swiped a hand across her brow.

“What’s your plan?”

She barked out a sharp laugh. “Sadly I don’t have one.”

He chuckled. “At least you’re honest—but I think we should talk about it.”

“Nothing to talk about.”

He frowned. “Where are you going to stay?”

“Well, I’ll stay at my ranch of course.” She glanced at him. He grimaced, looking like he’d just ate something bad. Butterflies churned in her stomach. “What’s the matter? Why are you looking like that? What’s wrong?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“It’s not your ranch anymore.”

She reined in her horse and stared at him. “Of course it is. You’re lying. Why would you lie about that? That’s cruel.”

“Sorry, honey, but it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.” Wes took his hat off and slapped it against his leg, sending dust flying through the air.

“But how? I don’t understand.” Despite her resolve to cry no more, tears slid down her cheeks.

“It was sold for back taxes.”

“But we didn’t owe any back taxes. I paid them all on time. Myself.”

“You’ve been gone three years though.”

“But they can’t do that, can they?” Her voice rose.

“I don’t know, I guess so. You could probably get a lawyer and fight it, say you didn’t get legal notice, but I’m not sure it would do any good. When they put you in jail, you lose all your rights.” He patted her arm. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, Naomi. I thought you knew.”

Panic threatened to take her voice. “All my things too? Even my furniture? My clothes?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know who bought…everything?”

“No. We can probably check the public records and find out. But what good will that do?” Her tears brought a lump to his throat. “So what will you do?”

She wiped her hand across her eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll study on it. I’ve got some money left. I’ll get a room at the hotel. Maybe I can find a job.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” He put his hat on and pulled the brim low over his eyes. “Folks here got a long memory.”

“Well, they’d better get used to seeing me. I plan to be here a while.” Despite her brave words, Naomi’s heart rose in her throat, and she thought she’d choke. She tightened her hands on the reins. “Let’s go.”

“Naomi, wait. Why don’t you let me take you out of here? Denver or San Francisco? No one would know you there. You could start a new life.”

“Would you? Would you leave, Wes?”

He shook his head. “Nope, guess not.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong, and I’m not running. Besides, aren’t you forgetting something?” She locked gazes with him.

“What?”

“You’re supposed to be investigating me, not helping me get away.” She nudged her heels against the mare’s flanks, and the animal surged forward.

As she rode into town, she straightened in the saddle and notched her chin up. She’d not cower before the good people of Gila Bend. As if on cue, the streets filled with townfolk. Several women pointed at her. “Why, it’s that Brecker woman, the one who killed her husband and his floozie. What is she doing here? Of all the nerve.”

An old man threw a rock at her. “Get out of town. We don’t want the likes of you here.”

“That’s enough,” Wes yelled from behind her. “Back off.”

The man retreated, but the curses and comments continued. It took everything Naomi could do to not turn tail and run. The Rocking R hands closed around her.

As they rode up to the hotel, the clerk came out on the porch. “Just keep riding. We ain’t got no room.”

Wes grabbed her mount’s reins and pulled the animal to a halt. “But, Wes, he said he doesn’t have—”

“I heard him.” He dismounted, as did the other men, and motioned for her to climb down. As she slid from the saddle, he lifted his saddle bag and nodded for her to bring hers. She did so and followed him up the stairs into the lobby.

The hotel clerk scurried inside. “Now, Marshal, I done told you that we aint got no rooms.”

“I think you do.”

“Sure looks like it to me,” John chimed in. “I think my pa will be interested in the answer. Lots of his friends, too.”

The clerk’s face paled. “You got no right to do that.”

Wes leaned over the counter and snagged two keys off their hooks. He pulled money from his pocket and tossed it on the counter. “Come on, Naomi.” He turned to the men. “Let me get Naomi settled, then the drinks are on me. I’ll meet you at the saloon.” He motioned to her. “Let’s go.”

“All right.” She turned to John and Joseph and the others. “Thank you. Those words aren’t sufficient, but”—she sniffed loudly—“they’re all I got.”

“Shucks, ma’am, weren’t nothing,” John said, his face turning beet-red. The other men echoed his sentiments.

She kissed him, then Joseph and dashed up the stairs. Wes’s footsteps echoed behind her. He caught up with her and led the way down the hallway to room 5. “This is your room. I’ll be right next door. Don’t open the door to anyone but me.” He handed her the key. “Lock it. Put a chair under the door knob.”

“All right.” She stepped into the room, tossed the saddle bag on the bed, and turned to him. “Thanks…again.”

He nodded and turned to go.

“Wes?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

He grinned at her. “Always. Try to get some rest. I’ll be back later, and we’ll go have a bite to eat. Okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

When he left, Naomi locked the door and jammed a chair under the door knob. She walked to the window, swept the curtain aside, and stared down at the streets below. The town looked the same, but it felt hostile. She had been prepared to face animosity, but the intensity of it shook her. Maybe she’d made a mistake by coming back here.

She was so tired even the sagging bed looked inviting. She moved the saddle bags and stretched out on the lumpy mattress. A few wiggles made her comfortable and soon her eyelids grew heavy.

When she awoke, shadows had crept across the floor. Dusk had fallen over Gila Bend. And thankfully the nightmare had not come. She’d slept well, in a dreamless sleep. She climbed out of bed and padded over to the window. Gila Bend looked docile, but she knew anger and hostility simmered beneath the calm façade. It was almost tangible, circling around her neck like a noose. She gulped, forcing down the lump in her throat.

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