Chapter 27
“Can’t sleep?”
Rachel turned at the sound of Mrs. Albright’s voice drifting up from below. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. She had been awake for a while. Her pacing must have made enough noise to rouse the older woman.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Rachel said. Her voice was soft and roughened by exhaustion.
“You didn’t.” Mrs. Albright’s footsteps creaked on the stairs. “Truth is, I haven’t slept much myself. Nights like these make a woman listen for things she don’t want to hear.”
Rachel sat on the edge of the loft with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The candles had long since burned low, and the church was lit only by moonlight slipping through the high windows.
“I keep hearin’ boots,” Rachel said. “Out there in the street. Every time I close my eyes, I think it’s him.”
“Kane?”
Rachel nodded. “He won’t stop till he finds me. I heard what he said tonight. He’s workin’ with them . . . the Riders.”
Mrs. Albright’s breath caught. “Lord help us.”
“They want somethin’ they say my father stole. Gold.”
It was hard to get the voices out of her head. There must have been at least three men with Kane. It must have happened an hour ago.
There was no chance of Rachel sleeping now. Her heart continued hammering against her chest.
She didn’t know whether to focus her mind on escaping Kane or warning Blaze about his intentions.
Either way, the latter was impossible. Rachel couldn’t find her brother if her life depended on it. He was too far away now.
“Gold will rot men’s hearts quicker than whiskey,” Mrs. Albright said, climbing the last step to sit beside her. “But the Lord’s seen worse and still delivered the lost.”
“What if He don’t this time?” Rachel asked as she stared at her hands.
“Child—”
“What if He don’t?” Rachel said again, sharper. “What if Blaze is out there fightin’ alone, and I’m just sittin’ here waitin’ for a miracle that ain’t comin’?”
Mrs. Albright took her hand gently. “Faith don’t always mean waiting. Sometimes it means surviving long enough to see the sun rise.”
“Mama used to tell stories like that,” Rachel said as her lip began to tremble. “About people who waited and believed. She said there was always somethin’ watching . . . angels, she called them . . . but not the kind you read about. Not the pretty ones.”
“Your mama sounds wise,” Mrs. Albright replied, smiling faintly.
“She was.” Rachel looked out the window. “She told me once about a rider that haunted the plains. Said he came for men who broke their word. Said he was headless . . . rode a black horse, carried a lantern that burned cold as ice.”
Mrs. Albright’s brow furrowed. “That old story? The Headless Rider?”
“Mama said he was no ghost,” Rachel continued. “More like justice wearin’ the shape of a man.”
“Sounds like something folks tell to scare children into honesty,” Mrs. Albright said.
“Maybe,” Rachel said. “But she swore it was true. Said he came for those who betrayed blood or kin. Men like Kane.”
“Vengeance is the Lord’s work, not ours,” Mrs. Albright reminded her.
“I know.” Rachel’s eyes glistened. “But I can still pray for it.”
Mrs. Albright was silent for a while. The wind pressed against the church walls, making the wood creak.
“You really think he’ll come for you?” Mrs. Albright asked quietly.
“No,” Rachel replied, shaking her head. “He’ll come for Kane.”
The older woman gave a tired sigh. “Don’t let the darkness twist your heart, child. It’s easy to wish for death when we’ve seen too much of it.”
“I ain’t wishin’ for death,” Rachel whispered. “Just justice. The kind the law can’t give.”
Mrs. Albright looked at her for a long time, then nodded slowly. “You sound like your brother.”
“He’d say the same thing,” Rachel said, giving her a weak smile. “He always believed right and wrong weren’t somethin’ written in books . . . They were somethin’ you felt here.”
She touched her chest.
“Deep down,” she said.
“I reckon he’s right about that,” Mrs. Albright said softly. “Wherever he is, I pray he keeps that fire. The world needs people like that.”
That was when Rachel’s throat tightened. It had been so long since she’d seen Blaze.
A part of her had already forgotten what he looked like.
Slowly, Rachel turned toward her. “You really think he’s still alive?”
“You’d know if he wasn’t,” Mrs. Albright replied, her eyes softening.
Rachel let out a shaky breath. “Sometimes I think I do feel him. Like I can hear him talkin’ to me when it’s quiet enough.”
“What does he say?” she asked.
“Hold on,” Rachel said. “That’s all.”
Mrs. Albright smiled sadly. “Then you best listen.”
They sat in silence for a while, the sound of the wind outside filling the gaps between their words.
“I hate the dark,” Rachel said suddenly.
“Why’s that?” Mrs. Albright asked.
“It hides everything,” she replied. “Makes it too easy for men like Kane to move around.”
“Or maybe it hides you from him,” Mrs. Albright said, chuckling softly. “Never thought of that?”
“Guess that’s one way to see it,” Rachel replied, smiling at her.
The church bell creaked above them as the wind shifted.
“Do you think he’s out there now?” Rachel asked.
She didn’t need to clarify who she was talking about. Rachel could tell Mrs. Albright knew by the way she stiffened next to her.
“Men like Kane don’t sleep easy,” Mrs. Albright said. “He’s looking, sure enough. But the Lord’s house is thick-walled. He won’t come here.”
Rachel looked toward the door below. She remembered seeing his shadow outside the window, the way it stopped for a second too long before continuing on its way.
“He already did once.”
“Then let him try again,” Mrs. Albright said firmly. “He’ll find he’s not the only one with a spine in this town.”
Rachel couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “You sound like Blaze again.”
“Then maybe I’ll fit right in with your family.”
The laughter faded, leaving a hush between them.
“Mrs. Albright?” Rachel asked quietly.
“Yes, dear?”
“If . . . if somethin’ happens, if he finds me, don’t let him hurt you too,” Rachel replied.
Mrs. Albright reached out, brushing a lock of hair from Rachel’s face. The touch surprised her. “Hush,” she said. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen. You’re safe here.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know evil when I see it,” Mrs. Albright said. “And I know it never lasts.”
Rachel lowered her gaze. “Mama used to say the same thing. But she still died.”
“Then she died believing in somethin’ worth holding onto,” Mrs. Albright said softly. “That’s what keeps you different from him.”
Rachel turned back to the window. The moonlight had shifted, silvering the pews below and turning the cross on the wall into a long shadow.
“Do you really think men like Kane ever pay?” she asked after a while.
Mrs. Albright took a moment before answering. “Yes. Might not be in our time, but they pay.”
Rachel nodded. “Then I hope I get to see it.”
***
The night deepened, and the sounds outside dwindled to the occasional gust of wind through the trees. Mrs. Albright had gone back down to the pews, leaving Rachel alone in the loft.
She lay down, staring through the slats of the ceiling. Her mind wouldn’t quiet.
“Justice wearing the shape of a man,” she murmured to herself.
She pictured the headless rider her mother described: the dark horse galloping through fog, the iron lantern swinging, the hollow sound of hooves across the plains.
She imagined him finding Kane, silent and unstoppable.
She shivered and pulled the blanket tighter.
“Don’t you dare come for Blaze,” she whispered. “He ain’t done nothing wrong.”
The church clock ticked softly below. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled. It was low and far away.
She thought of Blaze again—the way he’d forced his smile before he left, the way he’d hugged her too tight, as if he’d known what was coming.
“You better be alright,” she said quietly. “You hear me, Blaze? You better be alright.”