Chapter Thirty-One
Cash had been drifting in and out of consciousness when the shouting started.
His fever had broken that morning, but the weakness was still very much there.
And the pain. It clung to him like a tick.
His wounded leg throbbed with every beat of his heart.
So, when he’d heard the commotion, it had taken him forever to sit up, let alone stand.
Samuel was in the house napping. Hank had just come inside to make tea and check on Cash, wondering where Josie had gotten off to. Everyone had chalked it up to a meeting with Clara in town for some shopping. But clearly she’d been doing something a lot more dangerous.
When he heard that it was Randall Pierce outside, his entire body went rigid with anger—and then fear flooded him as he heard Josie’s sharp cry. “Don’t do it! Don’t give him Samuel! I’d rather die!”
Cash shot up like a bullet. It was pure agony, but he did it.
The room was spinning, and he had to grab the bedpost just to keep from collapsing.
His skin tugged around the stitching, and he could feel the thread tearing, his wound opening more with every step.
More blood seeped through the bandage, but he gritted his teeth and keep moving.
Nothing mattered except getting to that door.
Pa’s rifle hung above the mantle of the sitting room fireplace, and it was everything Cash could do to limp up and grab it.
The pain radiated so heavily up his spine that his vision blurred.
His fingers trembled as they closed around the stock.
The weapon was heavy in his hands, but loaded and ready.
As soon as he pushed the front door open, he saw her.
Battered.
Bloody.
Trapped in Pierce’s headlock as he turned to face the porch, his arm wrapped tightly around her neck, his gun pressed to her head.
Josie’s eyes found his and they went wide. Her lip was split, her dress torn almost all the way up to her waist. Her face was bruised, white with terror. He could see it in her gaze.
But her jaw set was. She was stubborn. He knew she would die for Samuel without a moment’s hesitation. He would have shaken his head at her if he wasn’t so furious at Pierce.
She was stubborn, but in that moment, he was proud of her.
He turned livid eyes on Pierce.
He could see Beau standing in front of Pierce, tense, like a snake ready to strike—and Luke was beginning to back up a bit, heading to the side of the house as silently as possible, taking advantage of Pierce’s distraction.
Cash could easily guess where his little brother was going. Sheriff Carter.
Luke needed cover, before Pierce caught sight of him. And Cash had every possible reason to shout. All his pent-up fury needed somewhere to go, now.
“Get your hands off my wife!”
Pierce sneered at him. “Make me, cowboy.”
It was ten feet from the porch to Pierce and Josie. Ten feet from Pierce to Beau. Beau was unarmed. So was Hank.
Cash’s shotgun was loaded and ready. But he would risk hitting Josie if he shot.
The coward was holding her in front of him like a shield. Even if he wasn’t, Cash might not be able to get off a clear shot, weak as he was.
Yet he was dangerously close to launching himself off the porch and throttling Pierce bare-handed. The only thing that stopped him was the gun at Josie’s temple.
“I’m not gonna say it twice, Pierce,” he growled, low and deadly. “Hands off, or I swear I’ll kill you.” His body was still in pain. But it didn’t matter. Not when Josie was concerned. Not when Samuel was concerned. When it came to them, or his brothers, he had nothing to lose.
Please, God, let Luke get back in time. Luke was the fastest rider, but it was a long way to town and back with the sheriff before all hell broke loose.
“Don’t give him Samuel!” Josie screamed, jerking her head out of Pierce’s grip just enough to lock eyes with Cash.
Those emerald eyes. He could see them even this far away. She was trembling, pleading wordlessly with him now.
“Pierce!” he snarled. “You heard my brother. You don’t want to do this.” He took a wobbly step forward. “Let Josie go, and we’ll talk.”
But Pierce tightened his grip on Josie, yanking her closer. She let out a small cry, and Cash’s stomach twisted instantly.
“Ain’t nothing to talk about,” the brute spat, his lips curling back in a sneer. “I want what I came here for. I want the boy. I’m willin’ to make a trade and spare her life, if you give me what’s mine.”
Never. But Cash had to figure something out. He was terrified. Furious. More emotions, stronger than he had ever felt before, all at once, but he had to keep a clear head. Josie was in danger, about to die, and there wasn’t a chance he would hand Samuel over to some lowlife coward who beat women.
So what do I do now? He couldn’t let anything happen to anyone there. His wife. His son. His brothers. Hank. They were all his family. He needed to keep everyone safe.
Josie shook her head, chest heaving in panicked breaths. “Don’t do it!” she cried hoarsely. “Don’t you dare give him Samuel!”
“I told you to shut your mouth,” Pierce hissed.
He yanked her head back, gripping her hair cruelly, and Cash’s blood boiled as the man began to rant.
“You and that sister of yours think you can make fools of men like me? Think you can run off, hide behind these ranch boys, like they can keep my son from me?” He let out a bitter laugh.
“You’re just like her, Josie. Just another little—”
That did it. Cash lunged forward, eyes locked on his target, a vicious snarl on his lips.
But Pierce must have expected it. He twisted, yanking Josie in front of him like a shield, pressing his gun harder into her skull. “None a’ that,” he taunted. “One more step, and her brains’ll be all over your yard.”
Cash’s hands curled into fists. Control. Control. He had to stop, breathe for a second. Pierce was desperate. Rash. Foolish. He was counting on Cash to be the same.
I have to be smarter than that.
Smarter than him.
Beau shifted. “You’re making a mistake, Pierce,” he warned again. “You won’t walk away from this.”
Pierce scoffed. “You keep sayin’ that, boy, but there ain’t no need to walk away.
I just need to take what’s mine.” He glanced toward the house with angry eyes.
“And I ain’t got all day. Bring the kid out, or she dies.
None of you are armed except your fool brother there, and he ain’t gonna risk her life! ”
He was clearly growing more angry by the second. Cash was, too. He refused to think about the fact that Pierce was right.
He couldn’t risk Josie. He had no plan. He watched as Josie struggled against Pierce, but the more she fought him, the rougher she was treated. Just seeing it set his anger ablaze. He’d never been more furious in his life. And he’d never been so helpless.
He leaned heavily against the railing of the front steps, turning his shotgun muzzle away from Pierce’s head. Pierce all but dragged Josie across the ground, her legs bucking and scuffing against the dirt.
Cash watched, rage mounting, as she bit her lip in pain, tugged roughly across the yard.
He wanted to do something. Anything. But he couldn’t endanger her—he couldn’t risk Pierce getting angrier than he clearly already was.
Their biggest chance now was Pierce’s own anger causing him to slip up. Just long enough.
“You ain't leavin’ here with either of them,” Cash spat as Pierce jerked Josie back toward his horse. It took everything in him to remain calm. “That boy stays here. Josie stays here. You’re the only one who gets to walk out of here—if you make the right choice.”
Pierce’s laugh was harsh. “Big talk from a man who can barely stand. I see you bleedin’ through that bandage, Montgomery. You ain’t in no position to be talkin’ like you can do anything!”
“I don't need to stand to put a bullet between your eyes,” Cash returned coldly.
“You wouldn’t risk hitting her,” Pierce sneered, pressing the gun harder against Josie’s temple.
Stay calm. Stay calm. Josie’s life. That was what mattered most.
Cash controlled his breathing as well as he could. “True enough. But the moment you pull that trigger, you’re a dead man. And you know it.”
“Maybe,” Pierce conceded, his eyes darting between the brothers. “But she’ll still be dead. And the boy will still be mine.”
“You sure about that?” Cash pressed, taking another small step forward.
“You won’t be seeing the boy if Josie dies.
All you’ll be getting is three very angry men with nothing left to lose.
Think you’ll make it ten feet? Think you’ll see any faces besides ours before you meet your Maker? Let alone the face of that boy?”
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Pierce’s face, but then it disappeared. “I’ve got nothing to lose either!” he bit back. “My wife is dead, and that boy is mine, by blood and by law.”
“You killed her!” Josie shrieked, tugging at his arm.
“Shut up!” he roared at her. “Sickness killed her, and it was your fault! She died because you fled and couldn’t take care of yourselves!”
“And why did she flee?” Josie snarled. “Tell me that, Randall! Tell me again why she ran after you beat her one too many times!”
“That boy is mine!” Pierce screamed, almost anguished.
“He ain’t property!” Cash yelled. “And you forfeited any right to him the moment you laid a hand on his mother—and his aunt.”
Pierce backed up until he reached his horse, dragging Josie with him, keeping his gun trained on her. Her heels scraped lines in the dirt as she fought against him. His horse shifted nervously, whinnying.
Cash watched as she winced with every step Pierce took. Saw her bite her lip to keep from crying out.
“What’s your plan, Pierce?” he shouted.
Pierce didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to Josie, his gun hand still trained on her head. “Get on the horse,” he snapped at her.