Chapter 2
The false smile she’d plastered to her lips wouldn’t fool Jake. She needed to dismiss her worries and instead focus on the ride he was taking her on. After all, he was attempting to lift her spirits.
She let the stiff smile drop from her lips.
Please give me strength. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want him to be concerned about me because I’m being a worrywart.
Even if the worries did come so easily.
And they shouldn’t. Jake was right. All Dalton had used were words. Words couldn’t harm them. What Dalton had said was merely a form of intimidation.
Like Jake had said, the man probably thought they’d easily sell to him because they weren’t from out here and weren’t accustomed to the roughness of the land.
If so, he’d underestimated them.
It wasn’t like he would ride in and gun them down just to get this piece of land. Yes, this was the West, but there were still laws and lawmen. She was worrying over nothing. As usual.
Just like when she worried Jake would hurt himself if he did too much. A worry that had no basis in reality. The wound he’d received during the war had long healed. Yes, it’d left damage behind, but that damage was nothing more than an occasionally painful nuisance. As Jake had told her many times.
“I know that look.” Jake cleared his throat. “And it means you’re doing too much thinking about something that’s not going to happen.”
She tried for another smile. “Not quite. I was coming up with all the reasons why it won’t happen.”
He pushed his hat back on his head. “I guess that’s not as bad.”
Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t.
Now she merely had to actually believe all those reasons.
She ran her hand down the smooth warmth of her gelding’s neck.
She should be enjoying the ride. Appreciating the wind tugging at her hair. Loving the company of the man riding by her side.
Not focusing on things she couldn’t do a thing about.
Lord, You’re in control. Please give me peace. I trust You. Please help me trust You more.
She nudged her gelding into a lope. No, she probably couldn’t outrun the worries, but she could give it her best shot.
Jake brought his mount abreast of hers and tossed a grin her way. “You couldn’t resist it for long.”
He knew her well.
After a few minutes, she eased the gelding to a halt.
The sun hovered close to the horizon, and some of the heat had drained from the air.
She ran her tongue over her wind-dried lips. “Should you contact the sheriff?”
He shook his head. “What would I tell him? That I didn’t like what Dalton said? It’d be Dalton’s word against mine. And I reckon Dalton is well-known around here. If you were the sheriff, would you believe a long-time resident or a newcomer?”
Why did things have to be so difficult? “For me, it would depend on if I trusted Dalton or not.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “We’re supposed to be riding. Not talking about Dalton.”
And that was easier said than done. Well, she could stop talking about him, but she probably couldn’t stop thinking about him.
“Sorry.” She urged her mount into a walk.
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
Oh, she had many things to be sorry for. Mainly that Dalton had shown up earlier. And also that she’d burdened Jake once again with her concerns.
He had to find it frustrating to listen to her and see what had to be her worried expressions.
She let out a sigh and forced some of the tension from her shoulders.
She would enjoy this ride. She had to.
There was no reason not to. God was with her. Jake was beside her. She was riding a fine horse. The evening was pleasant. She had a place to sleep, food to eat, and water to drink. The foolish concerns needed to leave her be.
She combed her fingers through the gelding’s mane, the rough strands catching against her skin.
She should think of something amusing to say. Something that would make Jake laugh.
Too bad her mind held nothing entertaining.
“You’re thinking too hard again.”
Of course he’d notice that. “I was trying to think of something to say.”
His features softened. “You don’t have to say anything. Just enjoy the ride.”
Didn’t he know she was trying?
Trying and failing was more like it.
Lord, please help me.
Moving out here had been their dream for years, and now she was ruining Jake’s enjoyment of the fulfillment of that dream with her constant fretting. He didn’t deserve that.
“I’m sorry.” The words caught in her throat.
He tipped his head toward her. “Like I said, you don’t need to worry about coming up with something to say. Nothing to apologize for.”
If only he knew.
Morning sunlight flooded through the barn walls.
She pitched a final load of straw into the stall then led her bay gelding inside.
Jake would be back soon. He’d left over an hour ago to check on their small herd of cattle. But he couldn’t get back soon enough.
She swiped a strand of hair from her sweaty face. Horses she knew, but cattle... Well, she’d learn. Just as she’d learned everything else.
A flurry of hoofbeats pounded outside the barn.
She shut the stall door, and tension ran through her muscles.
The hoofbeats didn’t necessarily signal trouble, but after Dalton’s visit the other day...
Jake thought she worried too much—and she likely did—but that man had been anything but peaceful and neighborly.
A burst of loud laughter echoed through the barn, followed by several shouted curses.
Moisture fled her mouth.
Please protect me. Give me wisdom so I know how to handle this. And please let Jake come back soon.
She eased to the side of the open barn door.
Five riders drew their mounts to a halt in front of the barn.
Should she hide or—?
One of the riders pointed at the barn. “There’s a woman in there.”
Her pulse rushed in her ears.
Hiding was no longer an option. There was no way she could get to a hiding spot that was good enough without them chasing her down. If that was their intention.
She could either continue cowering, or she could stand up to them and attempt to talk her way out of this. Whatever this was.
Trembling shot through her legs and wound through the rest of her body.
Lord, please...
Jake had to get back soon. If she could hold them off for long enough—distract them or talk to them or something—he would know what to do.
She stepped through the doorway. “Do y’all need something?”
Somehow, her voice came out steady.
The one closest to her, a barrel-chested man who looked as if he’d be more at home in a blacksmith’s shop than on horseback, pulled his hat from his head. “Just comin’ to deliver a message, ma’am. Stay outta the way, and we won’t be any trouble to you.”
They’d already troubled her. And they had to be involved with Dalton. He’d sent them. He’d increased his level of intimidation.
“There’s no message you need to deliver.” She swallowed, but dryness clung to her tongue and throat.
Without a word, he nodded to his men. The four men each lassoed part of the corral and spurred their horses forward. The corral collapsed into a dusty heap.
She couldn’t let them get away with this, couldn’t let Dalton get away with this. “Get off my property. And you can tell Dalton that we’re not selling out.”
The man tipped back his head and laughed. “You’re sellin’ out all right. If’n you do it sooner, it’d be for the better. Save you a lot of trouble.”
An iron band wrapped around her chest. “Take your men, sir, and leave. Now.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be issuin’ orders. Might want to look behind you about now.”
Pain snapped through her temple. The ground slammed into her, and she gasped a breath that filled her mouth with dust.
Grating laughter swelled around her. “Looks like you can tell Dalton yourself. C’mon, boys, we’re finished here.”
Hooves pounded the ground mere feet from her body, multiplying the pain surging through her head. She jammed both hands to the ground and pushed into a sitting position. The landscape swirled, mingling with bursts of darkness.
A man-sized blur crouched beside her, and a hard hand gripped her shoulder. She should fight, should do something. Yet lead encased her arms and legs.
“Are you all right?” Dalton’s voice, while rough, was not unkind.
After all the harm he’d caused, did he think a little kindness would win her over?
She blinked away the spots of darkness. “No thanks to your men.” She pushed to her feet, and the world tilted.
A hand encircled her arm, holding her upright. “Take it easy.”
She shook off his hold and braced herself against the barn. “Get off this ranch. No matter what your men did, we’re not selling.”
How had she been so complacent? The man who’d hit her must have come in through the barn’s back door.
Darkness danced before her eyes, and her throat clogged. No, she wouldn’t break down in front of this man. She wouldn’t allow him to see even one tear.
Where was Jake?
Dalton shrugged. “They ain’t my men. If I wanted to threaten you, I’d do it myself. I wouldn’t send my men to do it for me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Lies. All lies.
“What’s going on here?”
Jake. He was here.
She forced her eyes open and pressed a hand to her throbbing head. Already, a lump was forming. Why had she ever stood with her back to the barn door? She should’ve known better. Should’ve thought. Should’ve hidden when she heard the hoofbeats instead of heading toward the door. Then she could’ve avoided all of this.
Maybe.
Jake dismounted before he even pulled his horse to a stop and ran to her, not seeming to notice Dalton. “What happened?” His hands settled on her upper arms.
She leaned into him. “I-I’m all right.”
Not really, but if she gave a truthful answer, she’d end up losing control in front of Dalton. And the man would take nothing but pleasure from such a display.
He released her and faced Dalton. “If you had anything to do with this...”
Dalton made no move other than to narrow his eyes. “Watch yourself. Other men might take that the wrong way.”
Jake’s shoulders rose and fell. “Take it however you want. No man comes on my land and raises his hand against my wife.”
“You’re lookin’ at the wrong man.” Dalton mounted up.
“You better hope I don’t find out different.” Jake settled his arm around her and guided her toward the house.
After he’d helped her sit on the bed, he pressed a damp cloth to the side of her head.
She bit back the moan that rose in her throat.
“What happened?” He lowered himself beside her.
“There were five of them. They said we needed to sell out. They wrecked the corral. You saw the mess they made of it.”
Hardness claimed his features. “They won’t ever hurt you again.”
She reached for his hand. “I’m all right. Really. Nothing a couple of days won’t fix.”
Too bad a couple of days wouldn’t get rid of the rest of their problems.
He pulled the cloth away from her head. “Tell me the truth. Is it bad?”
She let out a breath and knotted her hands in her lap. “It’s nothing serious.” The disturbances to her vision had faded, and the pain had settled into a dull ache.
He pushed to his feet. “Try to get some rest.”
No... “Where are you going? You can’t...”
He shook his head. “Five men on horseback leave a clear trail.”
The tracks led west from the corral, the trail of trampled brush and grass a testimony to the riders’ lack of concern. What was one rancher against five cowhands? They were headed back to their ranch where they, no doubt, had many more guns to back them up should the need arise.
They underestimated him. He’d make sure they never again hurt his wife. And he’d make sure they knew their intimidation tactics were futile.
He urged his horse into a lope. No sense wasting time.
His gelding’s long strides ate up the distance. The men weren’t Dalton’s unless they were traveling away from his ranch.
The tracks disappeared into a wide, shallow creek. Thick stands of trees grew on either side of the bank, their branches swaying in a gust of wind. He dismounted and crouched beside the slow-moving water. No tracks stood out on the other side. Why were the men going to the trouble of hiding their trail after leaving such a wide path earlier?
This reeked of trouble.
He pushed to his feet, drew his revolver, and turned.
What had to be the same five men stood before him, their rifles aimed at his chest.
A thickly built man, apparently the leader of the bunch, motioned with his rifle. “You’d better throw down your gun. Odds ain’t in your favor. At best, you’d only take down a couple of us.” The man’s mouth twisted in an eerie grin. “Maybe you’d have a chance if it was just us, but you sure enough don’t have a chance at all as it is.”
Footsteps splashed in the creek behind him.
He tightened his grip on the revolver.
What had he gotten himself into?
“I know you ain’t gonna turn around, so I’ll let you know there’s five more of us. You don’t stand a chance, Aymes.”
His heart rate picked up.
He needed to find a way out of this mess. Fast.
But that wasn’t likely to happen.
The men stepped forward, and one of them gave Jake’s gelding a sharp slap on the rump. The horse bolted but stopped about ten yards away “Just in case you was thinkin’ about escapin’. Now throw down that gun.”
He didn’t stand a chance against ten men—revolver or no revolver. If he went along with their orders, maybe they’d use their fists instead of their guns. Or maybe he was setting himself up to be killed even quicker.
He let the gun slip from his fingers.
Its thud against the ground mocked him.
The leader kicked the gun out of his reach. “That’s better now.” He threw his rifle to the side. “Can’t have this be anything but a fair fight.” He nodded to his men and took a swing.
Jake ducked to the side and drove his fist into the man’s gut.
The air left the man’s lungs in a loud gust, and he stumbled to his knees. One down. Nine to go. He wouldn’t win, but he also wouldn’t go down without a fight. He lifted his hands into a fighting position and dragged in a breath as the other men surrounded him.
Lord, I know You’re still in control. I know You’re with me. I know You’re with Jake. Please protect him.
Dull pain radiated through her head with each breath she took.
He shouldn’t have gone after them. What could he do against that many men? All he’d do was get himself killed or badly injured.
She should’ve stopped him from leaving. Should’ve begged him. Should’ve done all that was within her power to keep him here with her.
Yet he’d gone because he loved her. Because he wanted to protect her. Probably because he felt like he’d failed her by not being here to stop them from hurting her.
She planted her hands on the mattress and pushed up from where she knelt on the floor. Prickling attacked her legs, and the room swirled into a mess of browns and blacks.
Breath after breath steadied the mess then pushed it to the corners of her vision.
They should’ve stayed in Tennessee. This dream they’d chased was fast becoming a nightmare.
With one hand on the wall to steady herself, she shuffled into the main room.
She should get started on preparing a meal. When Jake returned, he’d be hungry.
If he returned.
Cold washed over her.
She couldn’t think that way. Not that she hadn’t been thinking that way for the last however long it’d been since he’d left.
Please protect him.
A prayer she had to have prayed a thousand times since he’d left. And maybe all those times it’d gone no farther than the ceiling.
Weakness settled in her legs, and she stumbled to the table. With a shaking hand, she pulled out a chair and sank into it.
He’d be back soon. He had to be back soon.
Oh, what a fool she was. Sitting here and fretting over something she couldn’t change. She should be doing something. But whatever that something was wouldn’t help a thing. All it could possibly do was take her mind off what could be happening to Jake—or what’d already happened.
At least when those men had ridden up this morning, she’d been able to confront them—however badly that’d turned out. At least she hadn’t had to sit helplessly in the house and wait and wait and wait.
This was ridiculous.
They should’ve stayed in Tennessee.
In Tennessee, they’d have had family and friends to go to for help. In Tennessee, they hadn’t lived on a piece of desired land. In Tennessee, they’d had relative peace.
She skimmed a hand over the throbbing lump on her head and winced.
In Tennessee, she wouldn’t be sitting here like a fool with her head almost cracked open.
But she’d left Tennessee far behind, and she couldn’t escape Texas.
Please, Lord, bring him back safely.
“The boss’ll want to see you now. I’d recommend that you answer the way he wants. It won’t go well for you otherwise.” A door scraped open. “Go on, boys. Take him in.”
He blinked, darkness spotting around him.
Two men dragged him forward.
“I see you’ve brought him.”
He forced his head up, and warmth trickled down the side of his face.
The man who’d spoken pushed away from the dark mahogany desk. “He didn’t come easily, I see.” He brushed a hand across his well-trimmed graying beard and met Jake’s eyes with a cold stare.
Who was this man, and what was his problem?
One of the men holding Jake upright laughed. “He put up quite a fight, but he couldn’t take out the ten of us.”
“Leave him here.” The man crossed his arms, his face schooled into a blank expression.
“You sure, Mr. Jensen?”
At Jensen’s nod, the men released Jake’s arms. The floor fell away then smacked into his knees. Pain radiated through him.
Not that such a thing was anything new. This Jensen’s men knew how to use their fists.
“Thank you. That will be all.”
The door clicked shut behind them.
“I’d advise you not to try to leave before I’ve finished.” Jensen brushed aside his coat to reveal the revolver at his hip.
He couldn’t leave if he wanted to.
“Say what you have to.” Pain sliced through his side, and darkness threatened.
But the darkness wouldn’t win.
Jensen stepped closer, letting his coat fall back over his gun. “Continue to be that agreeable, and we’ll have no more trouble.” He leaned against his desk. “You’ve come to acquire a piece of property that I will own. It’s your choice, Aymes. You can either sell to me, or you will leave that land by force.”
If only he could drive his fists into Jensen’s arrogant face. “I ain’t selling.” He dragged in a shallow breath. “And don’t ever hurt my wife again.”
Jensen had the gall to laugh. “Isn’t that awfully big talk from a man kneeling on my floor?” He pushed away from his desk. “Come now, Aymes. You’re a reasonable man. Sell out while I’m in a favorable mood.”
“My answer’s the same as before.” The Yankees had won, but Jensen wouldn’t.
He was finished surrendering to prideful, greedy men.
Jensen shrugged. “That’s too bad for you. I fear you’ll come to regret your decision sooner rather than later.”
Darkness hung in the east, and the meager rays of sunlight brushed the storm clouds hovering along the western horizon in myriad shades of pink and gold.
She walked toward the barn. Erratic wind tore at her hair and swirled through the dust. The pounding in her skull urged her to go back inside and rest, but she had to find Jake.
Waiting hadn’t done a bit of good.
He should’ve been back hours ago. Unless...
She should’ve gone after him earlier, before the rain had dulled or erased the tracks left by him and the five men.
But tracks or no tracks, she had to try. If she spent one more minute in that house when she could be finding him...
She pulled open the barn door and stepped inside.
“Mrs. Aymes.”
She jerked her head up, fresh pain pulling at her hairline, and whirled around.
Dalton swung down from his horse, his duster and hat soaked with rain, his face drawn into hard lines. And he motioned to the horse that stood beside his.
A horse with a man’s still form draped over its saddle.
“No!” The word escaped as a hoarse whisper.
She lunged forward. The mud caught her boots, and she pitched to the ground.
“Jake. No. Jake.” She planted both hands in the mud, pushed to her feet, and stumbled toward him.
The horse sidestepped, but Jake only hung there, limp and unmoving.
Dalton snagged the horse’s reins in a gloved hand.
Please, God. Please.
She eased forward and pressed her hand against Jake’s damp neck. A weak, erratic pulse jumped beneath her fingers.
Heat consumed her.
Dalton had done this. And he’d come to gloat.
She whirled, fisted her hand, and swung at Dalton’s smug face.
He sidestepped before the strike could hit and caught her wrist. “Easy, ma’am.”
She stepped in, scraped her foot down his shin, and slammed it hard on the top of his booted foot.
He grunted, then his arms came around her, pinning her against him.
“Let go of me!” His damp duster pressed against her mouth and nose, muffling her words.
He’d hurt Jake. Badly. Then he had the gall to come brag about it. To come force them to sell out.
She squirmed and drove her boot into his shin. Over and over.
He spun her around and shoved her right arm high up on her back. Pain ratcheted through her shoulder and upper arm.
“Ma’am. Take it easy. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You didn’t care about hurting him.” Breath came hard. “Let. Me. Go.”
His grip on her arm didn’t budge. “Calm down. Your husband needs help. I found him out near Jensen’s.”
An iron band constricted her skull, and weakness flooded her legs. “You didn’t...?”
Dalton sighed. “Lady, I ain’t the devil you’re making me out to be. Your husband needs tending. Quit trying to pound me into the mud and take care of him.”
The grip on her arm released, and she staggered away.
She half turned to Dalton. Fuzziness blotted him and the rain-soaked yard.
He pulled his hat from his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “Looks like they beat him bad.”
“Bring him inside.” The words fell from her numb lips.
How badly was he hurt?
She stumbled up the porch stairs and into the house.
Dalton’s heavy footsteps echoed behind her. “Where do you want him?”
She hurried to the bedroom, a bowl of water and rags clutched in her hands. The walls closed in, and air fled.
She was losing control. No, she’d already lost control. “In here. On the bed.”
Yes, he’d get it all wet and muddy, but that didn’t matter right now.
Dalton eased Jake onto the bed then walked into the main room.
Swelling, cuts, and scrapes marred his features, and burning claimed her eyes.
Yet now wasn’t the time to fall apart any more than she already had. He needed her, needed her to hold it together, needed her to fake some semblance of strength.
She cut his wet shirt away. Reddened blotches that would soon turn dark stood against his torso. She pushed up from the bed and slid her box of medical supplies from beneath it. Nothing more than bandages, a bottle of whiskey, catgut, and needles.
Dalton appeared in the doorway, propping one hand on the doorframe.
“Please. He needs a doctor.”
He met her eyes, his gaze hard. “Doc’s one of Jensen’s sons.”
She’d have to do her best and pray it was enough.
“My offer still stands. I don’t figure you’ll want to stay after this. Jensen’s not gonna give up easy, and neither am I.”
Heat scorched up her neck. “If you’re still here hoping we’ll sell out to you, then you can go ahead and leave. My husband already told you no, and I’ll stand by that. I’ll stand by that until...” No, she wouldn’t give those doubts any ground. “Until he’s well enough to tell you himself.”