Authors: MacLaren Sharlene
He tipped his hat at her and watched her scurry inside, her little son staring over his mother's shoulder at him, Turning Slate around, Gabe steered him in the direction of the body under the tree. To stay on the safe side, he retrieved his holstered gun and prepared to use it if necessary. "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble," he murmured, recalling the first verse of Psalm 46, which he had read in his Bible that very morning. Just repeating the verse calmed his adrenaline-surged pulse.
Up ahead, two of his deputies, Gus van der Voort and Clyde Oertmann, approached on horseback. They either heard the gunfire or somehow received word of impending trouble at the Kane household. Gabe motioned with an outstretched palm, and they nodded, pulling in their mounts and easing to the side of the road to await further instruction. He inched Slate closer to the motionless body, lying face-up to the elements, and found it clad in dirty denims, new-looking boots, and a fine wool coat. Unblinking eyes that had glazed over stared skyward, even as snowflakes landed on the weather-worn face. Beside the body lay a Colt revolver. Gabe leaned forward and read the monogram on its handle grip-RJM. He needed no other proof. Sandy Shores had claimed the life of another McCurdy.
With no time to ponder what to do with the body, he guided Slate toward the house, ears and eyes keenly tuned to every sight and sound-each snapping twig, each rustling leaf, a darting squirrel scurrying up a tree and out on a bare branch. Even the snowflakes, which were falling more steadily now, seemed to resonate when they hit the ground. In the distance a dog barked, a horse neighed. And that's when he heard it-a verbal skirmish taking place behind the Kane house. "Let him go!" came the male voice.
Signaling at his men to move in, he advanced more quickly. Just then, Helena Kane opened the front door and waved hysterically, her face a picture of silent anguish. He and his men quickly dismounted and approached the house.
"They're in the backyard," she said in a frantic whisper. "Two men. One has hold of Billy B, and, oh, dear, I don't know what's going on, exactly. I told Jesse to stay put upstairs. It's awful, and, worst of all, Hannah's been shot! By the time I got to her, she'd passed out. Somehow, I managed to drag her inside when those fellows had their backs turned. Jesse's watching over her now."
"Shot?" Like an axe, the single word sliced straight through Gabe's core, making his blood run hot and cold. "Is she...?"
Helena shook her head. "I think it's just a surface wound, but only Dr. Van Huff will be able to tell us for sure. Justjust hurry!"
It was them-the bad guys. He would know their faces anywhere. Ice-cold fear ran up Jesse's spine as he watched from the back door through a slit in the curtain, knowing they'd mistaken Billy B for him. Grandmother Kane had ordered him to stay upstairs close to Hannah, who lay sprawled on the floor just inside the French doors, while she put in a call to the sheriff's office and waited for help to arrive. Jesse wanted to obey, but he also felt responsible for Billy B's predicament. With Hannah's breathing steady and her bleeding slowed, he bustled down the stairs anyway. At the ground floor, he spotted Grandmother, crouched by the front window with rifle in hand. Quiet as a mouse, he tiptoed past her to the open gun cabinet and grabbed a rifle for himself, then made a beeline to the back of the house.
Hunkering down, hand to the doorknob, he turned it slowly, pulling open the door an inch or so, waiting for the perfect time to make his move, not even sure he'd recognize it when it came.
Dear Jesus, my ma told me You'd keep watch over me, said You had a plan for my life. If that's true, would You please help me right now? Billy B's in trouble, and it's all because of me. I need to help him get out of this awful mess, so would You show me how? And while You're at it, Lord, could You make me brave?
"Let 'im go, Roy. So help me, I'll shoot you right here," yelled one of the men.
"No, you won't. You ain't got the guts, little brother."
Jesse's heart pounded through his drenched shirt, which still smelled like cocoa even though he'd cleaned it vigorously with a washcloth. He peered through the slit in the door. The bickering brothers were pointing pistols at one another. Billy B fussed and wriggled, and the one called Roy tightened his hold. Beyond the two men and Billy, Jesse spotted Dusty trying to get up, his legs wobbly and his eyes glazed over. When he plopped back down, Jesse wanted to sob in anguish. Then, there was that fellow lying a few feet away from Dusty, and poor Hannah upstairs suffering from a gunshot wound. "God, please don't let any of them die. Please."
"Stand still, you little twerp. I finally got you where I want you, and I ain't lettin' you go. He's comin' with me, Reuben. Pa's waitin' out front, and we're hittin' the road. Are you comin' or not?"
"I'm not goin' with you. I'll go to jail first," Reuben said. "It's the end of the line, and if you can't see it, well, then yer dumber than I thought. Takin' the kid is not the answer, Roy. The town's onto us."
"What you mean by that?"
"I heard talk at the city park. After we parted ways, I went and sat a spell tryin' t' decide if I should go to the cemetery. That's when I heard there's a big posse out lookin' for us. Some folks who passed by me was talkin' about it. Your brilliant idea about catchin' the town off guard, well, it didn't hold much water, Roy. You take that boy, and there'll be a lynching, fer sure. If we give arselves up, though, we at least got a chance at a fair trial. It was Pa what done the murderin', not us."
"Yeah, and me who just shot that woman up there. I ain't stickin' around."
"I am," Reuben said. "I'll testify against you-and Pa, too."
Roy sneered. "You traitorous slimebucket. I ought to do you in right here." He raised his gun.
Praying for courage, Jesse shoved open the door and stepped outside, rifle aimed at Roy-as if he had a clue how to fire it. "I'm the one you really want," he announced, surprised by his confident tone, especially with the way his heart pounded in his chest. Caught off guard, both men whipped their heads around and stared.
"Who are you?" Roy asked.
When he might have known sheer terror, a newfound sense of courage boiled up from the soles of his feet. So, this is how it feels to trust God with all my heart.
"I'm the one who saw you in the house the day your pa murdered those people."
Reuben actually laughed at Roy. "Oh, so now you've gone and done it, you imbecile. You don't even have the right kid."
Roy's face went as gray as a storm cloud, and his shifty eyes, narrowed in suspicion, darted from Jesse to Billy B.
"Let 'im go, Roy, 'fore you get into worse trouble," Reuben said.
Yanking Billy B closer yet, he twisted his upper lip into an ugly grimace. "He's lyin, the little fiend. This is the kid I saw that day."
"How d' you know? They look alike, same hair color, similar in size. Seem near'bout the same age."
A smidgen of doubt crept onto Roy's face. Clutching a fistful of Billy B's hair, he jerked his head backward. "You'd tell me if you wasn't, right?"
Billy B stared daggers up at Roy. "I ain't sayin' nothin' to you, dirty scoundrel."
Wow, Jesse thought. He wondered if Billy B had prayed for courage, as well.
Propelled by obvious anger, Roy suddenly poked his gun in Billy B's temple. "So, little man," he chided, staring Jesse in the face. "If I got the wrong kid here, how 'bout we make a nice little trade before I blow this one's head off?"
Jesse froze, his sense of assurance quickly draining from his veins.
"I wouldn't do that," came the clear, determined voice dripping with power. "Drop your weapons, boys-slow and easy."
Gabe emerged from the side of the house, pistol aimed, looking like a hulking giant in Jesse's opinion. "Pa!" he exclaimed, the name slipping out as natural as breathing. Two deputies came around the other side of the house, rifles directed at their targets. Reuben dropped his gun and raised his hands over his head.
"You dumb coward. What's Pa goin' to think of you now?" Roy growled, taking his sweet time about lowering his gun.
"Not much, I'm afraid," Gabe inserted. "Your pa's, hmm, shall we say, belly-up-under a tree a block or so back. My guess is, he's in a warmer place about now."
Thanks to the sudden confusion Gabe's words wrought, Roy lost his focus, allowing Billy B the opportunity to wrangle free from his grasp. Roy swore and reached out to snag him, but in that instant, Gabe hurtled his body at Roy and tackled him to the ground, knocking the gun from his hand and pinning him facedown. The tussle couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, with Roy the clear loser, Gabe wrenching the felon's hands behind him to snap a pair of handcuffs in place. Clyde kept a gun on Reuben while Gus stepped forward to lend Gabe a hand. Clutching Roy by the collar, Gabe dragged him to a standing position.
That's when Jesse and Billy B bounded off the porch and ran to Dusty. The poor pooch bore a wound to his head, but he wagged his tail and lifted himself up on his haunches. A few feet away, the so-called guard moaned and opened his eyes.
"What's goin' on here?" Van stammered, giving his head a shake and raising it up to look across the yard.
Jesse heard what sounded like a stampede of horses galloping up to the house. "Must be those fellows from South Bend finally got word of our whereabouts," Gus muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Nice you could make it," Gabe said when the whole lot of them rounded the corner, guns raised. "You wanna take these good-for-nothings off my hands?"
"I think we should close the store for a few days," Jacob was saying.
"Is Hannah going to be all right?" Jesse asked in a broken whisper.
"She'll be good as new before you know it," said Ralston. "I'll keep her sedated for a few days to help ease the pain and give the wound time to heal. I had to do a bit of digging to find the bullet. Mostly we'll be watching for infection, but I've no cause to believe there'll be that complication."
"I'll keep watch over her tonight," said Grandmother Kane.
"I think it'd be better if you got a good night's rest," argued Abbie Ann.
"Oh, pooh! I'm fine as duck's down."
"I'll stay with her," Maggie Rose inserted, a determined edge to her voice.
"You worked at the store all day, and all I did was sit upstairs in the library and read. I'm probably the most rested of all, so I'll stay," Abbie countered.
"I should be the one to stay. After all, I am her father."
"It's really not necessary for any of you to stay," Ralston put in. "She's my patient, so I'll be looking in on her often throughout the night. Besides, I expect she'll sleep for the next several hours."
Hannah struggled to open her eyes, but her weighty eyelids blocked all attempts. Everyone seemed so near, and yet so far away. If this was a dream, she needed to awaken from it. I'm not sleeping! she wanted to scream.
Someone cleared his throat. "I'd just as soon stay." This particular voice carried a deep-timbered quality lined with uncompromising authority. Gabe. With all her heart, Hannah wished to muster the strength to rouse herself.
"Yeah. She's gonna be my mother, so we should both stay," chimed Jesse.
Mother? Dreams of this caliber were rare. Lord, help me open my eyes.
"Jesse Gant, for crying out loud. Nothing's official yet." Gabe's tone bordered on scolding.
The atmosphere in Ralston's little office grew painfully quiet, so quiet, in fact, that an ant could have dragged a crumb away and everyone would have heard it.
But Abbie Ann took care of that. "Oh, my stars in a bucket! Are you truly marrying my sister, Sheriff? But that's great news! No offense, Dr. Van Huff"
Ralston chuckled. "None taken. This morning, when Mr. Devlin stopped by my office to talk about moving that young man's body to the cemetery, he brought up the matter of his feelings for Hannah Grace. Seems he wants to make her his bride and was eager to determine where I stood. Since I put an end to the relationship Sunday night, well, I gave him my best wishes, of course."
"Well, I'll be a yellow-nosed toad!" Abbie squealed.
As will I! Hannah longed to say. Why, the nerve of that Ralston Van Huff, announcing to her family that he was the one who severed the relationship.