Retribution
by
Janice Sagraves
ONE
He sat astride the well muscled blood bay sequestered back in the huge snow covered pines that encircled the clearing, his icy blue gaze set on the large white two-story house. It had taken him just over two months to find his quarry, and he was going to savor the moment. As he sat there a tall dark man came out onto the porch, and his body went taught as his fingers gnarled in the reins. His breaths came more rapidly, and his brain grew more inflamed. His heart beat with hot passion as his right hand went down to the big Navy on his hip. But as his fist wrapped around the scarred walnut stock of the gun a woman came out, and it didn’t take a smart man to know at once that she was heavy with child. He had heard nothing of a wife, and certainly not a baby being on the way, and this new knowledge stirred something malicious and base deep within his breast. The corners of his thin mouth crooked into a malevolent smile that rose to his eyes where it ignited. With a nod, a plan began to form that would be far more enjoyable than simply squeezing the trigger. Bringing the horse’s head around, he started stealthily away. He had a strategy to work out and much watching to do before he could make Adam Cartwright pay for what he had done.
*******
Angelica Cartwright stepped out onto the expansive porch that ran across the entire width of the front of the house. The air was brisk this January day, and the hint of further snow laced the crispness with its promise. Roughly three feet already covered the ground and turned the entire countryside into a pristine wonderland.
Inhaling deeply, she fixed the heavy shawl around her and moved nearer to the steps. This was her sixth month of pregnancy, and she found herself closer to the life growing inside her than at any point so far. She did, however, have a tendency to dwell on all that could possibly go wrong, but she thoroughly refused to do that this splendid morning.
She had taken on a healthy, radiant glow, and her eyes twinkled like faceted diamonds caught in the sun, and her husband hadn’t been the only to tell her so. Looking down at herself, she rested her hands on her full belly and smiled. Her baby. Hers and Adam’s.
With another draught of the cold air, she started down, careful not to fall. Their milk cow, which had been purchased from one of their neighbors some months earlier, had given birth to a winter calf just over a week back, and Angelica had taken it upon herself to minister to the sickly little creature. Adam didn’t care for the idea but when it came to stubbornness she could easily hold her own with him.
She had gotten halfway across the cleared off yard when a man on a husky reddish bay came in around the barn leading a wiry tan horse. The second she saw those cold blue eyes a chill ran over her, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. Clutching the shawl at her throat, she stood her ground.
“Morning, ma’am,” he said amiably as he reined in between her and the house.
Something in his genial manner seemed lacking in sincerity but she met pleasantry with pleasantry. “Good morning,” she said as her fingers bunched in the paisley fabric. “It’s terribly cold to be out today, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am, it purely is,” he said as he stepped down.
She had heard from Adam and his father and brothers that it was an unwritten rule that a man didn’t get off his horse without first being asked to do so. “Are you from around here? I don’t ever remember seeing you before.”
“No, ma’am, I ain’t, but I was told that this is the ranch of Adam Cartwright.”
“Yes, it is, but my husband isn’t home right now. Is there something I can do?”
“Yes, ma’am, there purely is.” All pretenses left him, and his eyes glittered in the colorless light. “You can get on this other horse.”
Angelica felt as if she would strangle. She looked first to the house then to the barn.
“There ain’t no use in you tryin’ to get away from me, so you’d best just do as I say.”
“If one of the men comes out…?”
“That ain’t gonna happen ‘cause they ain’t around. You don’t think I’d be fool enough to ride in here if they was? I been watchin’ the comings and goings for two weeks now and when they all rode out this mornin’ I knew it was time.”
Her lungs filled with one gulp, and she decided to try for the house and a rifle but a steel grip encircled her arm. She looked at his hand then into those menacing eyes.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Not as big as the one he made, but I’ll fill you in on that later. I just want you on that horse.”
She tried pulling away from him but he jerked her closer, and the barrel of a gun jabbed into her belly.
“I can always just leave the two of you to bleed to death here in the yard for your husband to find, it don’t make no never mind to me, but I don’t think either one of you’d like that much.” Then his face moved to within inches of hers. “Now get on the horse,” he said low and threateningly through gritted teeth.
She knew she had no choice. The thought of Adam returning home and finding her that way and of any harm coming to their child was enough to make her comply.
“Oh, and ma’am, unless you want that woman that works for you to get shot I suggest you don’t call out.”
“I won’t.”
“That’s a right smart thing.”
As he held onto the bit, she slipped her foot into the stirrup and managed to ease into the saddle.
“You best bundle up, ma’am. We don’t want you catchin’ your death.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“All in good time, ma’am. All in good time.” Then, with the other animal’s reins clasped in his fist, he mounted his own horse, and they started out on the other side of the barn.
The horse swaying beneath her, Angelica looked back at the house as it grew more distant, and her hands clenched on the saddle horn. She was being taken away from her home against her will, and she wondered if she would ever see it or Adam again.
*******
Maggie O’Shea was just taking the last loaf of bread from the oven when it dawned on her that she hadn’t seen Miss Angelica in a while or heard her come in. She knew how the young woman forgot about the passage of time when she went out to the barn but – being in the mother way as she was – it wouldn’t do for her to get sick.
Pushing back her gray stippled mahogany hair and placing a towel over the cooling loaves, she went into the dining room then into the parlor side of the large ell-shaped room. Her eyes roved about her and she found herself to be quite alone. She would search the house first then she would look outside. Why go out into the cold if it wasn’t necessary?
By the time she had made a thorough search inside it was approaching dinnertime. Grabbing a cloak from the coat stand by the front door she went out and straight to the barn. But once there she was very much surprised to find only the animals.
“Miss Angelica,” she called out in her hearty Irish brogue but got no answer. “Miss Angelica!” Still she got no answer and concern began pushing itself in on her. Rushing to the ladder, she climbed up but only hay greeted her in the loft.
She shinnied back down then, with a brisk stride, checked out behind the barn and the house and even in the outhouse, but still no Angelica. Maggie wasn’t one to panic but, not since she was little, she bordered on it. Keeping herself in check, she ran back to the front yard. “Miss Angelica!” Her nutmeg eyes scanned around her trying to look beyond their limitations but saw no trace of the young woman. “Miss Angelica!”
As she stood there the thought of her Angelica lying hurt in the snow somewhere filled her with anxiety. But why would she just wander off without saying something?
She dashed back into the house – uncertain what to do next – and without noticing the mélange of fresh tracks in front of the barn.
TWO
“Now you just set tight,” the man said as he finished tying her hands to the saddle’s horn with the knot underneath. “This won’t take long, and then we’ll be on our way again.”
Then he reached up and jerked the silver locket from her neck. She gasped at the abruptness of the action but could do little else.
“Why do you want my locket?”
“Proof to your husband that I got you. I don’t want ‘im to think I’m lying to ‘im.”
“Won’t you please tell me why you’re doing this?”
“I said I will, but it just ain’t time yet,” he said as he folded the piece of jewelry up in a square of paper, and stuck into a coat pocket.
“Now I won’t be long, so don’t you fret.”
He placed his hand on her thigh with alarming familiarity and something in the way he looked her over made her blood run to ice. She watched him as he mounted up and rode away back in the direction they had come as briskly as the snow would allow.
Now her mind raced to desperation as she tried figuring a way out of this. The buckskin she sat atop had been tethered to the limb of a tree, and with her hands tied the way they were there wasn’t much if any hope that she could free them and escape.
She wanted to cry, to bawl out loud like a spanked little girl, but that would be unproductive and wouldn’t accomplish a thing. Her thoughts went to Adam, and how he would react when he found out that she had been taken. That he would come for her she had no doubt, but she feared for his safety if he did, yet she knew it could be no other way. In fact, she got the impression that this man, whoever he happened to be, was counting on it.
“Oh, Adam,” she said to herself as her dark head drooped, and her bottomless violet eyes pressed together.
*******
Chris McCutcheon, the foreman on the Angel, had been gone most of the morning. He had been out checking for snow damage on the fence line out by the Hames’ place, and, being so close, he had paid a visit and stayed longer than intended. He was in the barn seeing to his little yellow dun mare when he heard the horse come into the yard. The boss and the rest of the men were spread out doing the same thing he had, and the cook had gone into Bantree to check and see if the new cooking pots he had sent all the way to San Francisco for had come in.
As he continued with Dunny he became aware that whoever it was had stayed quiet and made no sound at all. With a frown he pushed his hat back, revealing a wave of caramel colored hair, and started out.
His hand stayed close to his pistol as the stranger came into sight. “Yeah, mister, can I do somethin’ for you?”
“Is Mr. Cartwright still not here? He wasn’t when I come by earlier.”
Chris nodded, and his hand rested on the grip of his gun. “But he should be back before long.”
“Well, I don’t have time to wait.” The man scrounged a slip of folded paper from his coat pocket. “Would ya just give ‘im this?” he said as he leaned forward, his arm outstretched.
“Sure, no trouble,” Chris said as he took it.
“It’s personal, if you get my meaning.”
“It’s for him only.”
“That’s right, and he’ll know what it is. Much obliged,” the man said and tipped his hat then wheeled the stocky bay and headed out the way he had come.
Chris’ gaze never left him until the man disappeared beyond the barn then he looked at the piece of paper in his hand. Scrawled across it was the boss’ name, badly misspelled. Something in the man’s behavior left him on edge. He had seen all sorts in his travels and dealings with people, and they could all be but into one category or another. This one fell into a group that made his palms sweat, and his scalp itch. The man had said or done nothing to make him think ill of him, but his manner had bore an air of cunning deceit, and those eyes gave him the jitters.
His attention turned back to the paper he had been given. The urge to open it held onto him but he had never been one to butt in on another’s privacy, and he had been asked not to read it, which aroused his suspicion even further. With a huff, he jammed the small packet into his britches pocket, his mind never straying far from it, then went back into the barn. Dunny still hadn’t gotten her rubdown, and he didn’t know when the boss would be home.
******
So far his plan was falling into place nicely. He had his hands on the woman, and hopefully before long he would have the man that he hated with all his soul. With every breath he had taken in the past ten years that hatred had grown and taken on a life of its own until it was all consuming, and the only reason he had for living.
“You’ll pay,” he said gruffly under his breath as the horse made its way. “I promised myself you would and there’s nothin’ to stop me now.”
With a jerk of the reins the animal moved to the left and toward a stand of pines. The woman would be waiting just beyond, and he was eager to get to her and reach his final destination. In his wildest dreams he had never dared hope that this day would come, but retribution was at hand and soon an old score would be settled.
*******
Adam Cartwright had been away from home all morning, and here it was afternoon. Cold, tired, hungry and missing his wife he steered the sleek chestnut along the line of the trees where the snow wasn’t as deep and difficult to get through. This way they could pick up some speed without endangering the animal’s legs. A sense of unexplainable urgency had settled into him, and made getting back to the house imperative. He suspected it was simply the desire to see his Angelica, and it caused a tiny flame to grow in his chest.
It was another twenty or so minutes before he finally rode in to the yard. The place looked the same and nothing seemed to be out of sorts. As he dismounted Chris came out of the barn carrying a coil of rope.
“Oh, it’s you, Boss. I thought maybe he’d come back.”
“Who’d come back?” Adam said as his uneasy eyes set on the boy.
“Some saddle bum, from the looks of ‘im. I ain’t never seen him before but I got the understandin’ that he knows you, and he give me this,” Chris took the paper from his pocket, “and told me to give it to you. Said it was personal, and that you’d know what it was.”
“All right, Chris, thanks,” Adam said as he took it. “Have you seen Miss Angelica?”
“No, sir. I ain’t been here long my own self. I’d just finished puttin’ Dunny away and started straightening things when you come in.”
“All right, I’ll let you get back to it. And thanks again,” he said and gave him a slap on the arm.
“I’ll put your horse away for you.”
Adam thanked him then glanced at the little parcel in his hand. The growing need to get into the house drove him onto the porch, and he shoved the front door open. “Angelica!”
Maggie bustled out of the kitchen as he shouted for his wife again. “She’s not here.”
“What do you mean she’s not here?” he asked as his head snapped around.
“Just that, sir. I’ve looked all over, inside and out, and she’s simply not here. She went out to take care o’ the calf like always, and that’s the last I saw her.” Light shone in her distraught eyes. “I had hoped she would be with you.”
“I haven’t seen her since I left right after breakfast.” Then his breath caught. “Chris said there was a man here. Did you see him?”
“No, sir. I’ve been in the kitchen most o’ the time. I had the bread to bake and the washin’ up to do.” Then she wrung her hands in front of her. “Sure ya don’t think…”
“I don’t know what to think, but I’ll find her.” Then he took her shoulder reassuringly. “Now why don’t you go on back into the kitchen? She probably just decided to go visiting.”
“Without tellin’ anyone? Not Miss Angelica, not me girl.”
“Go on, Maggie,” he said with a nod toward the kitchen. “I promise I’ll find her.”
She reluctantly agreed then started through the dining room, giving him a backward glance before going back into her realm. As she did he remembered the paper that Chris had handed him. Unfolding it something fell out and hit the floor at his feet. As he picked it up he saw at once that it was the silver locket that he had given to Angelica for her birthday last year, and the clasp was broken. He swallowed the knot growing in his throat and looked to the paper he held. The words scribbled across it were in an unkempt hand but their message was clear. ‘If you ever wantta see yur wife agin you cum to the plase they sed is Bello Hill. Cum by yurself or Ill kill er and yur baby. Weel be waitin.’
The paper crinkled as his hand strangled around it. The thought of his adored Angelica and his child in the hands of some maniac – for that was what he had to be – was enough to stop his heart. And if this man hurt them in any way he would choke the life out of him with his bare hands, and consequences be damned.
THREE
Adam’s long legs wound him down the front steps. The piece of paper that had been wadded in his hand fell in a crumpled ball – which he didn’t even notice – and he went into the barn. Sport was in his stall munching oats when Adam disturbed him. “I’m sorry, boy,” he said as he patted him on the neck and began backing him out.
“Boss, what’re you doin’?” Chris asked as he came next to him.
“I need to go out again,” Adam said as he smoothed the blanket over the horse’s back.
“But what for? You just got back, and I thought…”
“I don’t have time to explain,” Adam swung the saddle up and settled it into place, “but I will later.”
“This has somethin’ to do with that man that came here today, don’t it?”
Adam froze, and his eyes lit on him. “I promise I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Do you need me to come with ya?”
Adam wished he could tell him what was going on, and let Chris come along but the content of the note had been clear and specific if not well written. “No,” and he gripped the boy’s shoulder, “this is something I have to do alone.”
“I understand, Boss.”
“Thanks, Chris…, for being a friend.” Then he turned and finished with his horse and led him outside.
Chris followed him and neither said a thing as Adam climbed into the saddle. Teal eyes met hazel and communicated silently then Adam brought Sport about and headed out. Chris started to turn back for the barn, and as he did he saw Maggie standing on the stop front step. They both knew that something was wrong, and like with Adam, words were not required. Then something on the ground caught his eye.
*******
The man stopped the bay alongside a grove of leafless oaks that stood like aged skeletons, dallied the reins of the other horse around the horn and got down. He trudged through the snow and came over to her. “I need this,” he said as he yanked the shawl from her shoulders.
She was now even more at the mercy of the cold but was powerless to stop him. He reached inside his coat and took a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and pinned it to the end of the shawl. Her eyes followed him as he went to one of the trees and tied it to a limb so that it would flutter in the breeze then came back to his horse.
Once back in the saddle he took the reins from the horn and grasped them in his hand then looked around at her. “Don’t want ‘im changin’ his mind,” he said with a one-sided smirk then nudged his horse with his knees and they were going again.
Angelica had quickly lost track of where they were as they moved farther through the white landscape. She had ridden the Angel many times with Adam but never in the snow, and it all pretty much looked the same this way. She tried catching any of the landmarks she was familiar with – a fallen tree or a stream or one of the line shacks – but she saw nothing that looked like anything she had seen before.
Not long after leaving the shawl behind they came to a hillock, the top of it covered in a solid growth of pines. “Bello Hill,” he said without turning or slowing down. “That’s where we’re headed.”
It took about fifteen or so minutes to reach the base of Bellows’ Hill and start the climb up. It wasn’t very steep but being covered in snow as it was made the going rougher. It took longer than it normally would, due to weather conditions and pulling the other horse along behind, but they eventually entered a small clearing nestled among the pines. The dense canopy had kept most of the snow from reaching the ground so the going here wasn’t so difficult. The big blood bay was reined in, and the lean buckskin did the same. The thin, sharp faced man dismounted and looked about him.
“This’ll do,” he said as he stepped to the horse Angelica sat astride. “This’ll do just fine.” He began untying her hands from the horn. “I don’t wantta get too far ahead of ‘im. Now let me help you down.”
“I don’t need any help, and certainly not from you.”
“Suit yourself,” he said as he held the horse’s bridle.
She tried bringing her leg over the animal’s back but it wasn’t working.
“Why don’t you just bring your leg around over the pommel and slide down?”
She wanted nothing from him but to be released, and her glare said as much, but this she couldn’t do. Getting on had been easy compared to this, and she guessed fatigue, from riding a horse for so many hours, and her condition had something to do with it. Sitting back in the saddle, she knew he was probably right, and she loathed herself for admitting it. Bringing her leg over as he had instructed, she slid to the ground with relative ease. He smiled but she caught no trace of benevolence or gentleness in it.
“Now that we got that outta the way.” He grabbed her hands and began tying her wrists together.
“You said you’d tell me why you’re doing this.”
“I will, but it still ain’t the right time.”
“And when will that be?”
He looked up at her, and those cool, unflinching eyes only refortified the fear already raging through her. “When your husband gets her,” he shrugged, “unless I change my mind.” He touched her cheek, and she turned her head away with revulsion and it only elicited a vile laugh from him.
He started pulling her toward one of the trees, and her feet scuffed along in an effort to keep up. Taking the long end of the rope, he tied it to one of the boughs so that it kept her from lowering her arms very far.
“There,” he said as he inspected his handiwork, “that ain’t so bad, is it?”
But she had no intention of admitting her discomfort to him.
“I think I should set up camp ‘cause we don’t know how long we’re gonna havta wait. This snow’ll probably slow him down just like it did us.”
She watched him as he went about picking up pieces of loose wood.
“I’ll havta to let these dry out a trifle before I can start a fire,” he said as he kept gathering. “But soon as they do we can have some nice hot coffee to warm our innards a might.” He brushed the snow from a flat rock and laid them on top of it. “But that don’t mean we can’t have somethin’ to eat.” He went to the bay and began digging around in the left pouch of the saddlebags until he came out with a piece of greasy looking yellow cloth. Unfolding it, he took out a piece of jerky and offered it to her but she just shook her head. With a shrug, he turned his back to her and tore the end out of the strip with his teeth and put the rest back.
Her eyes stayed on him as he began unsaddling his horse. He moved like a lithe cat with sinuous movements and none of it wasted. He was tall with unruly sandy hair and a ruddy complexion, and was not what you could call handsome by any stretch of the imagination. His facial features were pronounced and angular and his lips too thin. While he had been tying her hands she had noticed white scars around his wrists and wondered what had caused them, and if it had anything to do with this. He finished and moved to take care of the buckskin, and seemed to have forgotten all about her. She thought about trying to get out of him his reason for all this but while he was ignoring her she decided to let him.
A shiver ran through her and brought back the fact that he had taken her shawl, and her clothes were inadequate against the frigid air. Her eyes lowered so she wouldn’t have to look at him any longer, and they lit on her belly. She wished she could put her hands on it to reassure the growing life that it hadn’t been abandoned. That Adam would come for them she had no doubt. That he would get there in time left enough room to paralyze her with fear. What this man had in store for her, she had no idea, and it stifled her breathing to think about the possibilities.
*******
The sleek chestnut plowed through the snow, and the raven-haired man on his back kept his eyes on the tracks he followed. He didn’t really need them to guide him to Bellows’ Hill, he had been there many times, but just seeing them made him feel closer to Angelica. His black leather gloved hand tightened on the reins as he thought of her and wondered if she was all right.
His mind played back in an effort to come up with who could possibly be behind this. That this man was connected to his past, Adam pretty much knew, but was it someone who felt had been wronged or a relative or friend? And how long had he been planning this? No matter. This man had Angelica and that was the only thing that concerned him for the moment.
He tried drawing his thoughts away from what could possibly be happening to her right now and if he would make it in time. Why hadn’t he stayed with her that morning like she wanted him to? Her words came softly and hauntingly back to him.
“I wish you didn’t have to go out in this. It’s so cold, and I get so lonely without you.”
“You have Maggie to keep you company.”
“I know, and I do adore her, but it’s just not the same.” Then she had come to him and put her arms around his waist as he was buttoning his coat and looked up into his face with those tantalizing purple-blue eyes. “Do you really have to do this?”
“Somebody has to, and you know I won’t ask the men to do what I won’t myself.”
“I know it’s just that…”
But his lips had killed any further words from her. She had been so inviting in his arms that he had seriously considered staying, but then he had put her gently away from him, stuck his hat on his head and left. He could still see her waving to him from the porch as he rode out and it was enough to tear the very heart from his body.
“Angelica,” he murmured, “I’m coming.”
FOUR
The man coaxed the tiny blaze to life by puffing on it and fanning it with his hand. It wasn’t enough to keep anyone warm and was too far from her to feel it unless it was a bonfire. Trussed up as she was, she knew he didn’t have the slightest consideration for her comfort, and her being cold was a minor, inconsequential thing. Since they had first arrived at this spot they hadn’t spoken to each other any further. He had busied himself preparing the campsite, at least, his side of it and taking care of the horses. Deep down she was glad he was paying no attention to her, and she wished it would last until Adam came, though she knew better.
“Now for some coffee,” he said as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation and began scrounging through his saddlebags again.
He took out a battered old pot that had definitely seen better days and a small muslin bag, its top tied with string. Then he took the pot over to the trees and filled it with snow then returned, and sat it over the rapidly growing flames.
She let her concentration be drawn to the preparation of the coffee in an attempt to stave off the bitter fear that dwelled within her. Thoughts of what this creature had in store for her and Adam chilled her beyond the cold and made her bones brittle with it. An involuntary breath sharply rushed into her, and this caught the man’s attention, and he stopped what he was doing and looked at her.
“I know. The waitin’s the hard part, but before too long it’ll all be over.”
“What will?” she asked on a swallow.
“Don’t get impatient. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“And then what? I don’t think you’re just going to let us go home.”
He snickered scornfully. “You know better ‘n that, a smart girl like you. Although, marrying Adam Cartwright wasn’t too bright, I havta say.”
“I’m proud I did,” she said forcefully and haughtily jutted her chin out.
With the suddenness of a thunder clap, he got to his feet from a crouch and stomped over to her. Grabbing her face in his hand he harshly tilted her head back, and his fingers dug into the soft flesh. “It’s ‘cause o’ him you’re in this, so still so proud?”
“Yes,” she said steadily, defiance alive in her brilliant eyes.
His grip closed tighter, and he watched her for any sign of pain but got none. “Still?”
“More than ever.”
His gaze covered the rebellious face caught in the gradually waning light, and his mouth widened into a cruel grin. “You’re afraid of me, ain’t you?”
She choked back the truth. “No,” the word trembled.
“Oh, yeah you are, and you wantta cry.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do, so go head.”
“No.”
“I said cry.”
She shook her head, and her lips tightened.
“I said cry!” he stormed as he released her roughly and brought the back of his hand across her face with a terrible force.
A thin trickle of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth as she glared at him, but still no tears.
“Cry,” he growled, and she simply shook her head. Again he grabbed her face, and his came close to hers, and his voice was low and seething. “You will. Mark my words…, you will.”
*******
It was steadily approaching night and the sky was darker than usual with the menace of snow, but Adam couldn’t let that stop him. He had to get to Bellows’ Hill, hopefully before night closed in around him. If he didn’t, he would have to count on the light from the nearly full moon on the whiteness of the ground to work for him.
As he rode on toward an uncertain destiny, he fought off thoughts that sent his pulse stampeding, all of them centered on Angelica. What if this man had his way with her before he made it to her? What if she was mistreated to the point of being brutalized? What if she lost the baby? What if she was already dead when he got there? He shook his head violently, and his teeth clamped, and his eyes closed against it. Why did he let such notions enter his mind?
“Stop it!” he rasped. “Just stop it!”
Sport suddenly balked, and Adam’s head came around, his eyes flashing open, as he reined up. He stepped down and went to what had caused his horse to shy. He reached out and took Angelica’s woolen paisley shawl from where it had been secured to one of the limbs. As he did he noticed a slip of paper pinned to the end of it. It was in the same untidy handwriting and barely educated spelling. ‘Keep cummin frend. Yur almost therr.’
The note sifted to the ground as he clutched the heavy piece of fringed fabric close to his face and inhaled her scent. His eyes closed and his fingers squeezed around it, and he tried envisioning her with it on in the safety of their home.
His eyes flew open and turned in the direction he was headed. Never in all his life had he ever been so desirous of committing murder. When he finally got to this man he would find the opportunity to kill him slowly and enjoy every second like a fine bottle of wine.
He went back to Sport and stuffed the shawl into a pouch of his saddlebags then rose into the saddle and got going again. Bellows’ Hill wasn’t that far ahead now, and the expectation of getting to his wife was escalating.
“Almost,” he said as he headed on. “Almost there.”
*******
The man squatted close to the fire and poured coffee into a tin cup then replaced the pot and sat back on a rock, wrapping his hands around it. She could smell it as its aroma ascended into the clear air, and she wanted some of it but she would die before she would ask him.
He took a sip then looked at her. “Want some?”
“No thank you,” she said flatly.
“You sure?”
“I only want one thing from you.”
“To have your way with me?” he said with a sneer and a furtive wink.
She found the idea repulsive and wondered what any woman could possibly see in a man like him. Her mouth opened but she thought better of it. With the baby there she couldn’t afford to provoke him.
He snickered and took another drink, his attention focused once again on the contents of the cup.
She was glad she hadn’t taken any of the coffee as her legs pinched together beneath her petticoats. It had been several hours since she had been to the outhouse, and she needed to heed the call of nature, though it wasn’t too unbearable so far. But a woman’s toiletry was something that was not spoken of to men, even if this one would let her, which she knew he wouldn’t, so she would simply have to endure in silence.
FIVE
Angelica’s head shot up from where it rested wearily against her arm as she became aware of a presence close by. What greeted her washed over her like half frozen lake water and left her hallow. He stood less than a foot away leering at her and sipping on what had to be his fourth cup of coffee. His eyes traced longingly over her usually lithe form – now filled out considerably with her pregnancy – as she trembled in the cold.
Taking down the dregs of the cup, he tossed it behind him then started toward her, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. As he came closer to her, she strained at the rope securing her to the tree but to no avail for he had tied it too well.
“You know,” he said as he began pushing her silky dark brown hair back from her face, “you ain’t a half bad looking woman, though I do like ones with yellow hair better. But then, I guess, a woman is a woman.”
He methodically undid the top two buttons at the front of her dress, and she could hardly breathe. She could feel his hand run along her bare shoulder then up the side of her neck.
“Um-hum, not a bad looking woman at all.” He leaned closer, and his hand kept her from pulling her head back, and when his lips were very nearly touching hers he halted and looked into her terrified eyes. “But you ain’t Sylvie.”
Then, with a gleefully nasty laugh, he pulled his hand away and swaggered back to the fire, snatching up the cup as he went.
A jagged sigh rushed into her as she tried desperately to quell her terror. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t let this beast see that he instilled such fright in her. Shuddering against it, she couldn’t take her eyes from him.
Suddenly, the contents of her belly shifted, as if protesting what had just happened, and she found herself being violently kicked as if from several directions at once. She looked down and tried smothering the fear so alive in her. “Shhh, shhh, mama’s here,” she soothed, and to her dismay, it stopped.
Her head came up, and she watched him as he seemed now totally oblivious to her, again sitting on the flat rock which had been brought closer to the fire. He had taken his makings from his shirt pocket and was in the process of rolling himself a smoke. She inhaled and stiffened her back. “Who’s Sylvie?” she asked firmly.
“Just somebody I used to know,” he said as he poured tobacco along the paper then caught the drawstring of the little pouch in his teeth and pulled it closed. “And a durned sight prettier too.” He tittered and stuffed the small bag back into his pocket.
“Who is she?”
His focus never left what he was doing. “That’s none o’ your business.” He licked the long edge of the paper then rolled it around the tobacco and stuck the quirly in his mouth. “Now I ain’t in the mood o’ talkin’ no more.” He took out a match and struck it on his boot and touched the tiny flame to the newborn cigarette and drew on it.
“I was just trying to…”
“I know what you was tryin’ to do,” he said gruffly as he looked at her and viciously shook out the match and threw it down. “So just shut up unless you want some more o’ what you just got only I’ll go a bit farther this time.”
She cringed at the thought of it and hoped he didn’t catch it, but the look he gave her told her he had.
He took a long drag and blew smoke from him nose. A twinge showed in his expression, and he came to his feet. “Whew, that coffee sure does go through a man.” He shot her a knowing grimace then disappeared into the trees.
She watched motionlessly until he vaporized into the gloom of the Ponderosas. Now was her chance. This was the first time she had been left alone since reaching this spot. There wasn’t any way of cutting herself loose since she had no knife, and her hands were useless. With a glance in the direction he had gone, she began pulling at it with her teeth.
She didn’t know how long it had been when her hands were abruptly grabbed, and he began undoing with little bit of progress she had made. So busy with her endeavor, she hadn’t seen him leave the shadows and come deliberately toward her.
“I guess I’ll just havta make it tighter.”
“Please, don’t. I’m already having trouble feeling my hands.”
“You shoulda thought of that before you started tryin’ to get loose.”
He gave the already intricate knot a hard tug, and she couldn’t help but wince.
“Now maybe that’ll learn ya.”
Again came that vile laughter and he returned to the warmth of the campfire and sat once more on his rock. He gave her that look that inspired such dread in her then just sat and blew smoke rings into the air, stabbing his fingers at them like a child would.
*******
Sport stopped at the bottom of Bellows’ Hill and dark hazel eyes rose to
its pine shrouded summit. Soon he would be with his beloved again, and if
that man had harmed her in any way… He swallowed hard, and his nostrils
flared, and his breathing grew more rapid.
“Please don’t let me be too late,” was all he said.
With a click of his teeth and a slight prod Sport started up, scrambling
and picking his way. Adam leaned forward, his gun hand gripping the pommel
as they approached the edge of the trees. As they got closer to where he
knew Angelica would be waiting for him it was all he could do to keep from
kicking the horse faster. But taking a spill and breaking his fool neck
and maybe killing his horse in the bargain wouldn’t help her or anything
else.
Time kept to its unceasing crawl, and Adam’s anxious heart thudded within his ribcage. Once he thought he heard her melodic voice carried on the wind and it drove him on like hot spurs.
SIX
The man’s head rose, and he looked in the direction from which he and the woman had come. “He’s here,” he said as he threw his cigarette down and ground it into the dirt with his heel.
Angelica’s head came around, and her heart pounded so hard that she thought he could hear it. Her ears strained to catch any telltale sound but all she heard was her own blood rushing through her veins. Adam had come, as she knew he would, and while it gave her new hope it also augmented her fear.
The leggy chestnut walked into the clearing and the first thing Adam saw was Angelica. She stood with her arms elevated even with the line of her shoulders – her wrists bound – and she was tethered to a tree like a horse. A slow burn started at the base of his skull and turned his vision scarlet, and the inside of his mouth went dry. He came out of the saddle and started for her without even noticing the man.
“Aht, aht, get rid of the gun first.”
Adam froze in his tracks and finally saw the one who was pointing a large revolver at him.
“Take it out two-fingered and toss it away,” the man went on.
Adam pushed the leather loop from the hammer of his Colt then removed it from its holster and gave it a fling.
“Now most men carry a knife of some sort, so you just throw that away too.”
Adam’s acid gaze bore into the man as he dug into a back britches pocket and came out with a pocket knife. That too was discarded.
“All right,” the man said but his gun never lowered.
Adam ran to her and put his hand tenderly against the side of her face then rubbed his thumb over the dried blood at the corner of her mouth. Her cheeks bore bruises from where brutal fingers had dug into them. Adam could feel the blaze inside him becoming hotter with each second as he thought of what she had suffered at the hands of this sadistic bastard.
Quietly, Adam turned his back to her and put himself between her and this animal. “Let ‘er go, Marnes. She hasn’t done anything to you.”
“I’m glad to see you remember me, Cartwright, ‘cause I sure remember you,” the man said as he continued standing on the other side of the fire.
“Oh, I remember you all right. Roscoe Marnes. I also remember that you had a part in a holdup in Santa Fe and a teller was killed.”
“I didn’t do that.”
“No, the man who did paid for it at the end of a rope, and the others were shot down in the street. You were lucky.”
Marnes face went hard as granite. “Lucky?” he spat. “You call ten years in hell lucky? You call losing the best part o’ your life lucky? You call being chained up like a hyderphobied dog ‘til your wrists and ankles are scarred from too tight manacles lucky?” He leveled the gun at Adam’s chest. “I oughtta shoot you right now for what you cost me!” Some of his ire seemed to fade. “But I won’t, not yet, not until you hear what I lost on account o’ you.” He laughed contemptuously. “But why don’t you two go ahead and get reacquainted? I won’t stop you. After all, I’m not a total son-of-a-bitch…. Then we got some things to talk over, like old times.”
Cautiously, Adam turned to her, and he could feel the gun pointing at his back. But she soon overruled that, and he forgot everything except her, and then he noticed the undone buttons on her dress. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.
“I am now.”
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No.”
He gently took her chin in his hand and lifted it up so that he could look straight into her eyes. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he said more distinctly.
This time she grasped his meaning. “Oh, no, he hasn’t touched me that way…. But if you hadn’t come when you did, I don’t…”
He held her, and could feel her shivering. Stroking the silken hair, he rested the side of his face against the top of her head.
“Adam, he won’t tell me why he’s doing this. I’ve asked more that once but he always says it isn’t time yet. Do you know what all this is about?”
“Something that happened a long time ago, but it’ll all come out soon enough.” He stood back and grasped her shoulders. “How long have you been standing here like this?”
“Since we got here, maybe three hours, but it feels morel like years.”
“Enough of this.”
“Adam, don’t…” but a finger lightly against her lips silenced her.
“Marnes, she needs to lie down,” Adam said as he turned back to his nemesis. “I’m gonna untie her hands so she can.”
“No, you ain’t,” Marnes said as he came up from where he had been sitting by the fire.
“You’ll havta shoot me to stop me.”
“You do and it ain’t you I’ll shoot,” Marnes snarled as he took steady aim at Angelica.
“Well, can you at least let me keep her warm?”
“It don’t make no never mind to me,” Marnes said with a sideways jerk of his head, “just so long as she stays on ‘er feet.” He sat back down, and the gun stayed at the ready.
Adam went to his horse and got the shawl from his saddlebags and his hand brushed the leather sheath of his hunting knife. But with the gun and unfeeling eyes he knew was trained on him the whole time, any overt move on his part could get her shot. He went back to Angelica and draped the familiar object snugly about her. He unbuttoned his coat and moved around behind her and – holding her close – enfolded her so his own body heat would warm her. “Better?” he whispered into her ear, and she only nodded.
She felt his arms tighten around her and their child and for the first time since morning and felt a small measure of safety. The rising and falling of his broad chest against her back, and the scent of the Bay Rum he always wore were like a comforting tonic. She leaned her head back against him and closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see that hideous man. For the time being she let it be just the two of them, banishing all that had occurred in the past hours.
Marnes pored himself some coffee and sipped at it, watching them over the rim of the dented tin cup. His grip knotted on its handle, and he no longer tasted what he was drinking. He kept the gun pointed at Cartwright, and his finger began slowly squeezing back on the trigger then he realized what he was doing and made himself stop. “No,” he thought, “it’s too soon. He ain’t had enough yet.”
“Adam,” she said softly, “we both know that he isn’t going to let us go. I’ve seen men with the lust for revenge burning inside them before. He wants us dead, and we both know it.”
“I’m not gonna let that happen. You havta trust me.”
“I always have.”
“Then trust me now. I’ll protect you and our baby with my very life if need be, and if only one of us returns to the Angel it’ll be you.”
“Please, don’t say that,” she said as she turned as much as she could and looked at him. “If you aren’t with me I won’t go. I’d rather die with you so we can always be together.”
“What about our child? He has a right to a life.”
“He will with us wherever we are, but I beg you not to ask me to go on without you.” Her head dropped, and she rested her cheek against his arm, “because life without you is no life at all. I had no idea how sweet the love between a man and a woman could be until I met you. I’ve known such happiness that I never before dreamed imaginable.”
He pulled the hair away from her neck and kissed it. “And I’ve been happier than I ever have been in my entire life…. I won’t let this man take away from me what I’ve waited all my years on this earth to find.”
She felt his moist lips against her neck again, and this time she couldn’t deny the tears. They wet the sleeve of his coat as she snuggled her face into the bend of his elbow.
“Now why don’t you try to rest? I’ll support you.”
“Like you always have,” she thought.
SEVEN
The moon hung just above the outline of the trees that covered Bellows’ Hill and filled the inky sky with its slivery aura. It turned the snow that swathed nearly everything for miles in ghostly pale and the land lay silent and still as death itself. Every living creature seemed to have gone into hibernation for the duration of the winter.
The campfire was enough to illuminate the small pocket among the immense Ponderosas and to warm those close to it and for making coffee. But Angelica, from the start, had been denied its comfort, and since she couldn’t share in it Adam wouldn’t either, even if he thought Marnes would let him.
The couple still stood, her gathered in his arms and held close like the precious possession she was to him. He whispered one of Shakespeare’s sonnets into her ear, and she didn’t move lest the spell be shattered.
Then the poetry ended, and he kissed her earlobe. “Always by your side,” he whispered.
She leaned into him and bit her lower lip to stop its quivering.
“I think you two’ve had long enough,” Marnes said as he came to his feet, “and I think it’s time we got on with what we’re all here for. Now step away from ‘er.”
“Marnes.”
“I said step away from ‘er, unless you want me to put a bullet in her pretty head,” and he carefully aimed the pistol at her.
Adam kissed her forehead then released her, and began taking his coat off.
“No,” and the weapon stayed trained on Angelica, “the coat stays on, and if you try puttin’ it on her, she’ll never feel it.”
Adam glanced at her then brought it back around him. “I’m tired of your little cat with a mouse game, and that’s the best idea you’ve had since I got here.”
“Glad you agree.” Marnes crossed his arms, and began pacing back-and-forth, his eyes never leaving the object of his derision. “How does it feel not being able to help her? To know she’s sufferin’ and you cain’t do a thing about it?”
Adam eyes narrowed.
“You never met my wife Sylvie, did ya?”
This made Angelica perk up.
“No.”
For the only time, Marnes’ face softened, and took on a kind of tenderness. “Sweet, gentle, beautiful little Sylvie. Her hair was just the color of summer corn and as soft as the silks. And her eyes were like a spring sky in Kansas.” He chortled. “Why a woman like that… I know I ain’t the handsomest man that ever walked the face of the Earth ner the smartest, but she loved me. Do you hear that, Cartwright?” He stopped suddenly and whirled to face Adam and jabbed himself with his thumb. “She loved ME!”
“She sounds like a fine woman, so why…?”
“Why did I try bank robbery?” He sniggered and shook his head as he resumed his pacing. “She was expectin’ our first, just like your woman, and not like you, I needed the money.”
“There’re plenty of ways of getting money without stealing it.”
“Yeah, and none of ‘em open to me. The bank wouldn’t loan me none ‘cause I didn’t have none o’ that clatteril, and they wasn’t an honest job o’ work paid enough, what ones they was to be had. I wanted to get Sylvie outta there before the baby come…. I’d knowed Jess Morton since I come there, and we was good friends. It didn’t make no never mind to me that he run with a bad crew, he was the one I was friends with, not them.”
“Yet they trusted you enough to bring you in on something like that? Why? You didn’t say much about it in court.”
“I’m comin’ to that, so don’t rush me.” His pacing turned more into stalking. “I did ‘em a kindness once when I didn’t turn ‘em over to the sheriff for what I seen ‘em do.”
“So when they needed a man to act as lookout, Morton naturally thought of you, somebody who wouldn’t be noticed and desperately needed the money, so they brought you in. You didn’t havta to go along with it, you know.”
“You still don’t understand, do ya?” He stopped again and turned back around. “But then you wouldn’t, being high and mighty and rich like you are. And before you ask, no, I didn’t have no second thoughts. I wanted the money that bad…, but I didn’t bet on no killing.” He tittered ironically. “Then while I was standin’ there, all purgatory broke loose in the bank. I grabbed my gun ‘cause I didn’t know much else to do…. They come runnin’ out with the money bags and the next thing I know there was guns shootin’ at us from all over. I knowed if I got on that horse I’d wind up dead in the dust just like Jess and the others, so I just took off running…” his expression turned to hardened ice and exuded pure venom, “and I run into you.” He took a few steps closer and pointed the gun right at Adam’s face. “You coulda let me go, you know.”
“No, I couldn’t. You’d broken the law, and you had to pay for it.”
“I begged you. I begged you to let me go, but no, you hadta play the big man and take me to the sheriff. And even after I told you I had a sick wife.”
“I’m sorry, but at the time I figured you were just saying that to make me let you go.”
“If you’d knowed it was the truth would ya have?”
Angelica watched the concentrated thought pass over her husband’s face.
“No,” came like a shotgun blast in the stillness.
“I didn’t think so.”
Marnes went back to his pacing, and it was more agitated than ever before. Adam’s eyes darted to his own gun where it lay on the ground a few feet away. He had just started edging toward it when Marnes drew a bead on him.
“Go ahead and try it, Cartwright, if you think you’re fast enough! Go ahead! I want you to watch your woman die before I kill ya so you can take it to the grave, but I’d just as soon do it now! So go ahead!”
Raising his hands, Adam eased back.
“I thought so. A coward pure through.”
“What happened to your wife, Marnes?”
Adam could see that he had touched a nerve.
“My wife! You wantta know about my wife…? Well, I’ll tell you when I get a good ready on me and not a minute before! Now you go set down! And not there!” he shouted as Adam started toward Angelica. “You just keep away from her!”
“I’m going to her, Marnes, and to stop me you’ll havta kill me.”
The big Navy turned on Angelica.
“Go ahead!” she taunted. “You’re going to do it anyway and at least like this I’ll die in his arms!”
“And I guarantee you, Marnes – you’re not fast enough to stop me from getting to her. Now it’s your play.”
The cogs could be seen turning behind those stark blue eyes as they flicked from Adam to Angelica to Adam and back to her. “All right…, for now.” Then he motioned Adam on with the barrel of his gun.
Angelica let herself melt into his loving hold. It shielded her from the wrath of this vengeful man, and made her feel moderately secure, at least for the time being. Her head fell against his chest as his arms encircled her. “He is going to kill us…, isn’t he?”
“Not if I can help. And I’ll havta be dead before he can ever harm you.” He lifted her chin. “I’ll protect you and our child with the last breath in me. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“You know I won’t.” She fought back the longing to break down and cry, but she wouldn’t give that merciless swine the enjoyment. “Could you have let him go?”
After a moment he said, “No…. A man was killed in that holdup. A hardworking man who was providing for his wife and four daughters, and was loved by them…. Maybe Marnes didn’t pull the trigger, but he had a part in it just the same.”
“Did you know about his wife?”
”No, it didn’t come out in the trial.” A soft smile curled the sides of his finely sculpted mouth as he looked at her. “But now, I think I can understand better why he did it…. If I had to do the same thing for you and our baby… I don’t know that I wouldn’t.”
“I do. You’re not the kind to knowingly commit a crime or harm anyone.”
“It’s amazing what even an honest man will do when he loves somebody that much. And when he’s pushed to the wall, he can step over that fine line…. To protect you…, I’ll even kill.”
She looked for any sign of remorse in the faint glow from the campfire
that managed to reach them and cast faintly over his stern face and saw
none. He made her think of a wolf that would fight to the death anyone or
anything that proposed harm to his family. Oh, how she wished she could
put her arms around him. Her yearning to hold him and press him close to
her burned like a torch that consumed her like an unbridled firestorm.
“Do you know what happened to his wife?”
“No,” he said as he glanced back at Marnes who was sitting by the fire again and watching them like a rabid animal, “but I think we’ll soon find out.”
Angelica gulped hard. She wanted to know but she feared finding out more from what she would learn. Her breath came raggedly, and she put her head against her husband’s chest again. Why couldn’t this just all go away?
EIGHT
“All right, that’s enough,” Marnes said as he motioned Adam back with the pistol.
Adam started backing away, his fingers lingering against her cheek.
“You asked me what happened to my wife, and now I’m gonna tell you.”
“Suppose I don’t wantta know now?”
“It don’t matter. The time’s come. You’re gonna hear anyway.” Marnes resumed his stalking back-and-forth. “The whole time I was on trial she wanted to come but me, and her family wouldn’t let ‘er. We knew what it’d do, her being so delicate and all and in the family way. She’d been having trouble and we knew this’d only make it worse. But her brothers Hal and Luke and her Pa came every day.” He whirled on Adam. “You didn’t havta to testify.”
“Yes, I did, but it wasn’t my testimony alone that sent you to prison.”
“But it sure helped, and if you’d let me go like I wanted you to…”
“So that’s what this all boils down to, the fact that I didn’t let you go, and you had to pay for what you’d done.”
“No!” and he stamped a couple steps forward, the gun leveled on Adam. “It’s about what it did to my wife when I was convicted and sentenced to twenty years in prison because you wouldn’t let me go!”
“Not to interrupt, but why’re you out after only ten?”
Marnes snorted. “Good behavior. Can ya believe that? I wonder what Warden Ramsey would think of recommending me for parole after this? Now shut up, and let me finish!” His stalking became more frenetic and agitated. “My poor little Sylvie. She couldn’t stand it. They finally let her come see me before they took me away.” He ran his fingers back through his sandy hair and some of the fury went out of him. “She was crying and holding my hands through the bars. She tried to kiss me but they only got in the way…. I told her not to worry, and I’d be back.” His eyes squeezed together then shot to the man he despised so much, the fury re-instilled more than ever. “But I never got the chance, thanks to you and all those other self righteous hypocrites in that lousy town.” He went back to the fire.
“I’m sorry about that, but what about the wife of the man who was killed? She loved her husband too.”
“I told you I didn’t do that! Don’t you never listen?”
“In the eyes of the law it doesn’t matter whether you did or not, you took part in the crime that got him killed and are therefore just as guilty.”
“Then why didn’t they hang me like they did Grubbs?”
“Maybe because the people knew you, and were able to convince the judge that…”
“Enough! It don’t matter, but after what happened to my Sylvie I wish they had.”
Adam saw this as an opportunity to agitate further the man’s already volatile state. “What happened to her Marnes…? Tell me.”
“The baby started to come after she got home to her folks, and it wasn’t time for another three months…. I didn’t even know….” His eyes drilled into Adam like white hot rods. “They said she couldn’t take what happened to me and was too frail, and she… died when the baby come, a son…. For a short time I had a son but he didn’t live even an hour after her…. I lost ‘em both…. Both ‘cause of you…, and now you’re gonna know the same thing. You’re gonna watch her and your baby die, and you ain’t gonna be able to do a thing about it.”
“Marnes.”
He came closer and pointed the gun right between Adam’s eyes. “And when she dies I’m gonna kill you but not all at once. I’m gonna do it a little bit at a time so you can die slow like I did all those years. It’ll do me good knowin’ you died knowin’ that she did on account of you, that her death and your baby’s death was all on account of you. Her blood’ll be on your hands just like my Sylvie’s.”
“You mean like Sylvie died because of you and what you did?”
“No!”
The Navy turned on Angelica and Adam’s heart beat madly. He had to do something even if he got killed in the trying. But before he could act something snapped back in the trees and drew Marnes’ attention away from them. Adam dove for his gun and the man must have caught the movement from the corner if his vision for he whirled back around. Angelica tugged at the rope and screamed her husband’s name. Just as Adam’s hand fell onto his pistol, Marnes fired but it went wild and only gouged a small furrow from the frozen ground and black and white puffed into the air. Adam came onto his back, took quick aim and squeezed the trigger before Marnes could get off a second shot.
Marnes staggered backward, the big revolver clutched in his hand and red blossoming on the front of his coat, caught his heel on a rock and fell in a heap. His arm raised – the pistol shaking but quickly dropped – and he rolled over onto his face. Adam scrambled to his feet, the Colt still on Marnes, ran forward and kicked the gun from the man’s hand. It skittered across the snow dusted ground then he turned and dashed to his wife.
Jamming the pistol into its holster, he began working on the knot that bound her wrists. His fingers were clumsy in their haste and the tangle of rope defied him. With a curse under his breath that she readily forgave, he ran to Sport and got the hunting knife. Careful not to cut her, a couple of slices and the bindings finally fell away.
She threw her arms around his neck, forgetting the numbness in her hands, as he dropped the knife and now her tears would come with the relief. He stroked her hair as she rained kisses over the cherished face. Her legs quivered so that it was a wonder they held her up.
“It’s over, Angel, it’s over,” he said as he pressed her head against him and continued running his fingers over her satiny tresses. “He’ll never hurt you anymore…. He’ll never hurt anyone ever again.”
“Oh, Adam,” she sobbed, her voice unsteady, “he blamed you for his wife and baby…. It wasn’t… You had to do…” but any further words were slain in the onrush of relief and with the dying of fear.
“I know, I know. And maybe I could’ve forgiven him if he’d only gone after me, but to make you suffer that way and cause you pain,” he looked down at her and began rubbing his thumb over the blood at the corner of her mouth, “that I can never forgive…. It’s always easier to blame somebody else for our own mistakes, but he was at fault for what happened to his wife and child, not me…. If he could’ve seen that this all could’ve been avoided.”
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore or even think about him. I just want you to hold me.” She put her head back against him, the strong heart pounding beneath her ear, and his arms snugged around her. “I just want your closeness to make it all go away.”
As they stood there – oblivious to everything but each other – behind them Marnes came to, and his eyes went straight to them. Anger and hatred still smoldered with the last embers of life and would not be extinguished until he had taken his revenge, and then he could die staisfied. Falteringly, he fumbled in the waistband of his britches and came out with another pistol. Weak from loss of blood and with death beckoning, his arm raised with the gun gripped in his hand.
“You’ll not escape me, Cartwright,” ran through his fading but still lucid mind. “You’ll pay… for Sylvie… and for my son.” Forcing himself to steady it, the barrel of the gun trained on Adam’s back, and his finger began slowly tightening on the trigger.
Suddenly, a shot rang through the clear night and sounded through the trees that cut it off from the sky.
NINE
Pushing Angelica behind him, Adam whirled just as Marnes fell back – his rapidly glazing eyes staring upward and the unfamiliar pistol clutched in his hand. Blood ran from his mouth and down the side of his face to stain the snow. He had obviously not been dead before but he was obviously so now.
As Adam stood there, it slowly dawning on him that what he had heard had been a rifle shot, a figure stepped from the trees to stand over Marnes’ body, looking down at it. A faint tendril of smoke wisped up from the end of the rifle’s barrel, illuminated from behind by the fire. He poked the dead man hard with the weapon but got no response then eyes, unable to be distinguished as to color but known to be teal, rose and looked straight at Adam.
“Chris. How did…?”
“I followed ya, Boss,” the boy said as he came closer.
“But how did…?”
The long gun, and his arm hung at his side, and his nose wrinkled. “He told me not to read the letter he give me to give you, and I didn’t but when you dropped it in the yard I figgered it was fair game. So I picked it up read it.”
Angelica stepped next to her husband, and he pulled her close.
“And I know you told me not to come, but I knew you and your lady needed help,” he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I figgered if I stayed back far enough he wouldn’t know I was there.” He glanced scathingly back at the dead man. “It was right nice of ‘im to tell me where to come.”
Gripping the side of the young man’s neck as he had many times with his little brother, Adam allowed himself a grin. “I’m glad you did, but you took your own sweet time getting here.”
Chris’ head dropped and a look of embarrassment fell over his face. “I woulda been here sooner… but I kinda… got lost in the dark. I followed somebody else’s trail that cut with yours. I ain’t makin’ excuses, mind ya, but the snow and the moonlight…”
“Things do kind of look different.” Adam heaved a profound sigh. “But you got here in time, and that’s all that counts.”
Angelica pulled free and stepped forward. Putting her hand against the side of the young man’s face, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly, “for all of us.”
He pulled his hat down in front and the gloom hid the blush in his face. “Yes, ma’am.”
Adam looked toward Marnes as his wife came back to him.
“So whadaya wantta do now, Boss.”
“We’ll take him to Sheriff Jillian in Bantree and tell him what happened and get this thing settled once and for all, and then we’re going home.”
“Sounds good to me, Boss.”
Adam looked up at the thickness of the trees over them and breathed in their scent. “It won’t be light for a time yet, but I’d like to get this done.” He turned back to Angelica. “Unless you’d rather wait and rest.”
“No,” she said and shook her head, “I want to get back to our house.”
He hugged her and directed his gaze back to Chris. So much had happened since the morning before and so much had to be put behind them. He and his treasured Angelica had come so close to dying at the hands of a man driven by an insatiable thirst for vengeance that had grown and festered over time, and had eventually destroyed him. The debt that Adam now owed Chris McCutcheon he knew he could never repay but he would never cease trying. He looked around at Angelica and felt her warmth and the thought of how close he had come to losing her and the child she carried sent a new rush of fear gushing through him. True, it was all over, but it would take a while to get over what it left behind.
“Come on, Chris – let’s get this done so we can all go home.”
“All right, Boss.”
*******
Dawn was fresh as they rode into Bantree. Chris led the blood bay with the blanket covered body draped over the animal’s back, as well as the wiry buckskin. Angelica sat in the saddle in front of her husband, his arm protectively around her. It still being early, not so many people was out and about, but those that were gave their full attention to the small group as they passed, and headed slowly along the main street.
This morning Siddon Banning had come into town to send a wire to business associates in St. Louis, and had walked just for the exercise. Mason Giles, his houseman and cook par excellence, had offered to do it but Siddon had simply wanted to get out in the bracing air to himself. He dearly adored his wife and three girls, but sometimes he just needed to get out of the stately mansion.
He hadn’t far to go before he reached the telegraph office when he spied his dear friend and wife and his foreman headed in his general direction. His mouth spread, and he started to call to them but stopped himself as he saw the lines of fatigue and something else he couldn’t place drawn in their faces. “Adam,” he said evenly as they drew parallel with him. The dark hazel eyes turned to him but no answer was forthcoming as they continued on.
Siddon stood as if cast of bronze and watched as they reined up in front of Sheriff Jillian’s office. Adam dismounted and helped Angelica down and they went inside as Chris saw to the horses. Siddon, for such a large man, could move like lightning when he had to, and this time was no exception as he broke toward them.
“Chris, what’s happened?” Siddon asked as he stepped to the hitch rail.
“You’d best get if from the boss,” Chris said as he finished tethering Dunny and stepped onto the boardwalk next to Mr. Banning. “It’ll be better comin’ from him.”
“But what’s happened?”
“The boss’ past come back at ‘im.”
Siddon just looked at him then his dark brown eyes went to the blanket covered body tied on the back of the bay. His head jerked around, and his gaze locked onto the door to the sheriff’s office. With a sudden burst, he shot forward and went inside.
Chris just stood there, his hands thrust into his coat pockets, and his collar pulled up around his neck. Slowly, his eyes rested upon the dead man. “I ain’t sorry I killed you, and for what you done and was gonna do, it’s better ‘n you deserve.” He spit contemptuously into the street then turned and followed after Siddon Banning.
*******
The day had been long and tiring. The business in town hadn’t been protracted, and Sheriff Jillian had been understanding and very helpful in getting things in order. After they had finished, Siddon had invited them back to his house, the sending of the telegram put off for another time. Mason Giles and the Banning females had made over the trio – young Amelia listening with rapt attention to the account of the bravery of her Chris – and done their best to ease the effects of the past several hours. Carolyn Banning, persuasive as she could be, had at least gotten them to stay for dinner and for sometime after. But Adam had finally let it be known that he and Angelica, while they appreciated the hospitality and kindness, just wanted to go home and put this terrible thing in the past where it belonged.
Now, as they rode into the yard, it was approaching suppertime. They were riding as before, but the two horses had been left in Bantree.
Maggie was waiting on the porch and stood watching them as they got down. It wasn’t necessary for her to ask about the ordeal her girl had been through for she could see it in Angelica’s face. “Welcome home, Miss Angelica,” she said with a faint trace of a smile.
“It’s good being home,” Angelica said as she and Adam came up onto the porch.
“Supper’ll soon be ready.”
“Thank you, Maggie,” Adam said.
The looks exchanged between mistress and servant spoke more eloquently than all the words of the greatest orator. Maggie lightly touched one of the ugly marks on her cheek and looked to Adam then went into the house.
“I’ll take care o’ the horses, Boss.”
“Thanks, Chris.”
Angelica went on inside, and Adam came in behind her, and closed the door. He hung the cloak that Carolyn Banning had loaned her and her shawl on the stand by the door then his coat and hat. He went to the familiar blue chair that had once graced the parlor of the big roughhewn log house on the Ponderosa and been given as a wedding gift by his father and flopped down in it.
Angelica stood in front of him and looked into the countenance of this man she called husband. Silently, he raised his hand, and she took it, and he pulled her down into his lap. His arms went around her, and she nestled her head against his shoulder. For the first time since the previous morning she felt completely safe in the sanctuary of him. Her eyelids drifted down to conceal the pain in her deep violet eyes and tears fought to escape the confines of the dense black lashes that curled at the outer corners. She hadn’t been willing to let Marnes see her cry but now there was no reason to try to hide it. After a valiant struggle they freed themselves to run down her cheeks and dampened the front of his shirt.
Resting the side of his face against the top of her head, he felt her nuzzle close to his neck. Her soft breath tickled like a feather and it was a balm for the invisible wounds that Roscoe Marnes had inflicted. Adam knew that though the ordeal itself was over, the memories would linger for the rest of their lives, though their effect would dull with the passage of time. His gaze set on the wall on the far side of the dining room as he recalled the headlong flight, impeded by the snow, to where this man held his beloved Angelica. All sorts of dark thoughts had passed through his mind, the worst of which had not come to fruition. The muscles tensed in his jaws as the image of her standing there with her hands tied and unable to lower her arms flew back at him. He looked down at the world he held and his blood warmed. “No one will ever hurt you again,” he thought, “if I have to kill a hundred men.”
“He broke my locket,” she said hardly above a whisper, her eyes remaining closed.
“I’ll get it fixed.”
She snuggled against him in an effort to get closer but that was impossible. With an onerous breath, his eyelids fell. Safe in their own home and surrounded by the love of one another, their breathing grew heavy.
When Maggie came out to announce that supper was ready she saw that they were both asleep. “Supper will keep,” she said half to herself then – a gentle smile adorning her face – she turned and went back into the kitchen.
One bitter individual had sought to destroy that that he hated, that that he couldn’t have, and that that he desired to wipe out. Roscoe Marnes had been a poisoned man, poisoned by his own hate and a passionate desire for revenge for an imagined wrong done him. Unable or unwilling to see that the whole sad affair with his wife had been his fault and no one else’s he had set out to punish the wrong ones. In the end, however, he himself had been consumed by that hatred, and he would soon lie beneath the frozen earth. Once again good had triumphed over evil, and life had been put back on its right course, and tomorrow would be the beginning of a new start, a start after Roscoe Marnes.
THE END