Solitary Horseman (27 page)

“Nothing.”

“Are you sick? Something wrong with you?”

“No.”

He sighed, frustrated by her whispered words and reluctance to open the damned door. “Is Eller hiding in there?” He looked over her head and squinted into the darkness behind her. “Eller! Get your butt out here!”

“He’s not here,” she said, then gasped when Callum placed the flat of his hand on the door and gave it a little push.

It opened, letting in some light. Light that fell across the side of her swollen face, split and blood-crusted lower lip, and puffy, red-skinned eye. Callum sucked in a breath that felt like a flaming sword cutting through his lungs. His eyes watered at the sight of her.

“I’m going to skin that sonofabitch,” he said, and Lilah flinched. Tears built in her eyes and spilled onto her bruised cheeks. Callum let out a roar of frustration. He spun away from the sight of her battered visage and slammed his fist into the porch post. Pain shot from his knuckles to his elbow, but he gave it no mind. In fact, he welcomed it. He just wished it had been Eller’s face instead of a post. He heard her sob behind him and he gathered in a deep breath to calm himself before he faced her again. He shouldered open the door and pulled her into his arms. “Lilah, are you . . . what about the baby?”

“It’s okay. The baby is fine.”

“It’s not okay.” He felt her sob against the base of his throat and he wished to hell that her good-for-nothing husband was standing in front of him. He would hammer his face until there wasn’t anything recognizable left on it. “Eller did this.” He knew it to be true, but he needed her confirmation. She nodded against his shoulder. So fragile. Delicate like a bird. Willowy. Slender as a reed except for the roundness of her belly where an innocent grew. “Why? What the hell got into him?”

“We got into a f-fight.” She rubbed her face against his coat’s lapel, drying her tears. “I wanted him to s-stay home at night with me instead of running off to so-called meetings. It got ug-ly.” The word broke in two on a sob. “And I said something.” Another sob. “Something I shouldn’t have said to him.”

Callum closed his eyes, knowing full well what she’d said. “Did you tell him about Ben?” When her head moved against him in a nod, he thought he might be sick. He placed his hands carefully, gently on her shoulders and pushed her back to arm’s length. “Why, Lilah? Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve squeezed off a shot and started an avalanche, that’s what you done.”

“I t-took it back!” She swallowed convulsively as tears crawled down her cheeks. “I told him that the baby is really his. It’s not Ben’s.”

Callum glanced up, trying not to let the panic overwhelm him, but all he could see was blood and mayhem. “Where is he? When did this happen?”

“This morning. He was sleeping in. I finally woke him up and he was cranky as a bear, yelling at me, telling me to leave him be.” She dabbed gingerly at her tears with a lacy handkerchief she’d pulled from the cuff of her dress. The blond hair near her right temple had some blood caked in it. “He finally got up, but I was so mad at him. I said things and he slapped me. After he hit me, he stormed out. I thought it was him coming back to apologize when I heard you ride up. He hasn’t been gone too long. I don’t know where he is and I don’t care.” She clutched Callum’s forearms. “I’m through with him, Cal, but don’t hurt him. Once this all settles down, Ben and I will—”

“No.” Callum brushed off her hands. “You leave Ben out of this. You’ve probably signed his death certificate, but if by some miracle Eller doesn’t shoot Ben in the back, then you’re not going to finish him off by clinging to him like poison ivy.”

“He loves me and I lo—”

“You’re married.” Callum glared at her. Was she so selfish that she didn’t understand what she’d done? Didn’t she care that her husband was probably looking for her lover right now and one of them would most likely die because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut? “Married. I’m not saying that Ben isn’t a damned fool for sporting with you, but there is no excuse for you to conveniently forget your station in life, Lilah.” He shook his head, not wanting to hear her paltry excuses or declarations of adulterous love. “Pack up and go to your folks’ place. You hear me? Whatever happens, Eller won’t be working for me after this. You should go now. Don’t be here when he gets back.”

“Where are
you
going?” Lilah addressed his back as he made his way to Butter.

“To keep Ben alive and breathing, I hope.”
And to make Eller fight like a man or get the hell beat out of him.

He put the spurs to Butter, sending her flying in the direction of Payne land. He gritted his teeth against the wave of sickness that rose in him and shook his head to try to clear it. Ben had gone to look for Hollis. With any luck, he’d find him at the Payne place before Eller did. It wouldn’t be a fair fight. With Eller, it never was fair. Eller would try to get the jump on Ben and finish him off without having to get his hands bruised, dirty, or bloody. One shot in the back or the back of the head. That was Eller’s way. Not for the first time, he wondered if Eller had tried to shoot him out of the saddle, but he clamped down on that possibility. It was too heartless to dwell on.

When he was almost to Payne land, he saw a rider ahead of him and his spirit lifted in hopes that it was Ben or even Eller. As he drew closer, he recognized Bill Falcon, the Texas Ranger.

“Falcon!”

The lawman held up a hand in greeting. “Hey there. I thought you’d still be in bed.”

“I’m looking for a couple of my cowhands. Ben Echohawk and Eller Hawkins.”

“That right? I’m scouting for Hawkins, too. Thought he might be working cattle on the Payne spread. You and the Paynes are partners, I hear-tell.”

“That’s right. For one season, anyway. They had a run of bad luck and I needed someone to help me with my father’s recovery.” He shrugged. “It’s worked out for us.” He couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought the Ranger smirked a little.
Hell
.

“That’s good,” Falcon drawled, running a finger along his sleek mustache as he urged his horse into a trot alongside Butter.

“I heard about the hangings.”

“Yep.” Falcon cut his gaze at Callum. “That’s why I’m tracking down your cousin. He participated.”

Double hell!
Callum drew in a breath, trying to steady his heartbeats and dilute the pulsating agony in his shoulder. “I hate to hear that, but I’m not surprised. He’s on a rampage. He and his wife got into it and he slapped her around. I’m fairly certain he’s looking for Ben and means to maim or outright kill him.”

“We better get a move on then,” Falcon remarked, and he let his horse stretch into a gallop with Butter edging slightly ahead.

They were less than half a mile from the Payne house when the shots rang out. One. One-two. One more. Like the crack of a whip in the still winter air and Callum felt every lash as if it were real. He glanced at Falcon, who was grim-faced and tight-lipped. Neither man spoke. They just buried their heels into their horses’ sides and blazed a trail across the winter white grassland, around trees, and over low brush.

Callum could swear he smelled spent gunpowder and blood before he spied movement in the area of the Payne barn. Hollis’s horse, saddled and ready to ride, stood shivering a good way from the house. Ben’s horse, also saddled and dragging its reins, cantered toward them. Callum leaned sideways and snagged the reins.

“Whoa, boy,” he murmured, and the horse turned to follow them. That’s when Callum saw someone moving. A man with long, dark hair emerged from the shadow of the barn. He staggered, lurched, and then fell to his knees. “Ben!” Callum barked the name as he slapped Butter’s side, making her speed forward. Falcon’s horse thundered right behind them.

Callum swung out of the saddle. His gaze skittered away from Ben, ashen-faced and kneeling, to the prone figure in front of him. Hollis Payne. A big red spot blossomed and expanded across Hollis’s yellow shirt front and he stared, sightlessly, at the gray sky above him. Callum’s mouth went dry and he choked on dust. He knew Hollis was gone. He saw Banner in his mind’s eye – Banner weeping, her heart cleaved in two by sorrow – and he closed his eyes for a moment, seized by fury at the senselessness of what had transpired.

Falcon swept past him and squatted beside Hollis. He touched two fingers to Hollis’s neck. “He’s dead.”

And Banner would die a little, too.
She’d never be the same after this. Because of Eller.
Rage shook him, making his teeth chatter and his vision blur. He had to find Eller. Had to find him and choke the life out of him.

Falcon looked toward Ben. “You hit, too?”

Ben nodded, the hand that had been pressed to his side, fell away to expose torn, blood-soaked material and a leaking hole in his brown skin.

“Christ, Ben,” Callum said, ripping a kerchief away from his neck and wadding up against the gunshot wound. “You’re gut shot. We have to get you into town to the doctor.”

“It was Eller. I didn’t see him at first, but Hollis did. He was aiming for me, but Hollis stepped right into Eller’s path and took the bullet.” Ben panted and his lips peeled back in a snarl. “Then Eller shot at me again, but his aim was off. I think I winged him.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Callum said, matter-of-factly, coldly. He started to straighten to his feet, but Falcon placed a hard hand on his shoulder.

“You get Ben into town. I’ll go after Hawkins.”

Before Callum could tell Falcon to get the hell out of his way, Falcon added, “You wanted us Rangers here. We’re here. Let us handle this. You get your friend to the doctor. You don’t want him to die out here, do you?” He jerked his head toward Hollis. “Like that poor bastard?”

He knew that the Ranger didn’t mean anything by it, but calling Hollis a bastard rankled. Callum wrenched away from Falcon and rose up to face him. “He saved Ben’s life.”

Falcon gave a curt nod. “Right. You need to see to him, too. Let his people know . . . take him to the undertaker.”

Callum’s head filled with fuzziness and he felt light-headed, out of his body. Was this really happening? Hollis dead? Ben half-dead? Eller to blame? Banner . . . oh, God. Banner. He’d have to tell her. He’d have to watch her crumble before him.

“I’ll help you hitch up the wagon so you can take these two into town,” Falcon said. “Shake a leg there, Latimer.”

Callum started to tell him to go on, that he could do it by himself, but pain ripped through his shoulder at that second, clearing the fog from his head, and he realized he was in no condition to wrangle a horse by himself or lift a dead weight. Together, they hitched Captain, the Payne’s plow mule, to a rickety hay wagon. Callum helped Ben into the bed of it while Falcon wrapped Hollis in a horse blanket and laid him out near Ben. By that time, Callum’s fury had cooled some and he could think more rationally.

“Much obliged.” Callum held out his hand to Falcon. “Eller could have headed home, but he might make tracks to one of his buddies. Bob Taylor, probably.”

Falcon smirked. “Taylor’s already in jail. Him, Bransetter, Buck Friendly, and a few others. Eller’s the last one we’re chasing down. He slipped away from us last night when we surprised the bunch of them at Docker’s farm.”

“He’s good at that,” Callum said with a sneer. “He’s slippery.” He tied Butter’s reins to the back of the wagon and then hoisted himself up with a grunt onto the plank seat. “It’s better that you’re going after him. When I see him, it’ll be damned hard not to kill him with my bare hands.”

“Let the law deal with him.” Falcon swung into the saddle. “I’ll find him. I can track anything anywhere.” He gave a wink. “I’m known for it.”

Falcon studied the ground for a minute before he rode east, opposite of town. Was Eller running to some place or just running? Callum flicked the reins and the wagon jostled forward, earning a groan from Ben.

“Hang in there,” Callum said over his shoulder. “If you die on me I’ll never let you forget it.” Hearing Ben’s strained, breathy chuckle, Callum flicked the reins again, making Captain pick up his pace.

He tried not to dwell on Banner. He tried. He failed. His heart bled for her all the way to town and back.

###

The faded winter sun was perched low in the cloudy sky when Callum rode up to the Latimer house. He’d gotten Ben to the doctor’s office and had waited there an hour until the physician could assure him that the bullet hadn’t torn any necessary innards. Then he’d taken Hollis to the undertaker.

After checking on Ben one more time, he’d headed for the ranch, stopping once to wave down Ki and tell him about Ben. Mary was already home, Ki said, so he’d go there, fetch her, and they’d hightail it to town to be with their eldest son.

What Callum had been dreading was upon him. He eased out of the saddle, dropping to his feet lightly, but still managing to jostle his sore shoulder. The pain had become an annoyance in comparison to the agony beating him black and blue inside when he thought of hurting Banner. Shattering Banner.

He tramped up the steps, heard the tapping of her shoes on the floorboards, the squeak of the door as she opened it. Slowly, heavily, he brought his gaze up to hers. The smile on her lips froze, then melted. Her eyes – her beautiful tiger’s eyes – dimmed, rounded, narrowed.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her melodic voice shot through with concern.