Chapter Twenty-Seven
The sun hung low over the horizon now, throwing long gold lines across the dry ground as Weston rode alongside Nora and Cade toward the Colter ranch.
He could sense Nora’s tension without needing to look, because he felt the same way.
As for Cade, he rode ahead, probably stone-faced, leading them straight into the lion’s den.
Weston had never been to Nash Colter’s spread, but even before the house came into view, he could feel the rot of the place, like something foul buried beneath the soil.
When they crested the last rise, he could clearly see the main house, sharp-edged and too clean, like a polished boot hiding a rattlesnake beneath.
They barely made it to the edge of the ranch before Weston heard mad dogs raising a ruckus. Suddenly, the front door banged open and Nash came out of the gate on horseback.
“What the hell is this?” he barked, his eyes flashing with rage.
Weston’s hand drifted near his holster, more with instinct than intent. He wasn’t here to start a fight. But if Nash is…I’d better be ready.
Cade spoke first. “Where’s Elias?” he demanded.
Nash paused for a second, as if waited for the wave of anger to leave his body. Then, he looked at Cade and laughed. “And you need him for…?”
“Call him out,” Cade ordered, shutting off further explanation.
Nash scanned each one of them without a word. He then turned toward the house and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Elias!” he shouted. “Get out here! There’s someone wanting to see you!”
A long moment passed, and Weston began thinking that they were being fooled. Or even worse, that they were in danger. So he reached for his gun once more. Just then, he heard footsteps, as if a soldier was marching toward them. Then, hooves started against the dry earth.
When Elias rode up, he looked more worn than Weston remembered. He had a bit of trouble sitting up straight in his saddle. His eyes were bloodshot, his beard was messy, and one hand was nursing his ribs. Is he in pain?
However, Cade didn’t waste time. “We caught the cattle thieves,” he said, looking directly at Elias. “They said you hired them.”
Elias flinched, but it was Nash who spoke first, spinning on the man like a rattler striking. “What’s he talking about? You filthy little bastard!”
Then, Nash paused for a very short moment, as if composing himself. When he spoke again, his tone was even.
“Oh, I know why you did this. You did this because you’re trying to put dirt on my name. And for what reason, son?”
Elias looked stunned, but not for long.
“You lying son of a—!” he shouted, moving forward on his horse. “I didn’t do this alone. You told me to. You set this whole thing in motion, Colter.”
Nash opened his mouth to say something, but Elias didn’t let him speak.
“The fire?” he continued, his voice rising.
“You lit it. You told me it’d scare them off.
Then you spread those lies about Nora and her man.
Finally, you ordered me to find men who would steal the cattle, only to make it look like the ranch was cursed and the people who owned it were careless. You planned it all, Colter. You.”
No one said a word, although everyone knew Elias was telling the truth.
Weston turned and looked at Nash, examining him from head to toe.
Guilt was written in the eyes. It leaked out in little betrayals, like the way he stopped blinking when he was cornered.
Or the way his shoulders stiffened and his face became red…
the way his lips tightened…the way sweat kept beading at his temple, despite the cooling breeze.
“I did what you asked,” Elias went on, shaking his head, “because I was dumb enough to believe you. You promised me land. You promised me a new house and a better future. But you never meant to fulfill your promise, Colter…did you?”
“You little rat!” Nash growled. “You’re trying to drag me down with you because you couldn’t do a damn thing right! You’re as useless as the rest of the peasants of this town!”
“Enough,” Cade said, but Nash wasn’t listening.
“I told you to scare them, not ruin everything!” Nash’s voice cracked. “I built this land with my own two hands, and you…you don’t know a thing about what it takes to have it all, to earn it all. You went too far this time, Pike!”
There it was, the truth, clawing its way out between clenched teeth. Weston sat still in his saddle, as did the others. His heart thudded hard, the way it does when a man braces for a snake to strike.
“You need to come with me. Both of you,“ Cade said, looking at Nash, then at Elias.
Elias gave a tired nod. “I’ll come.” His eyes were still on Nash, steadying his horse. “I’ll tell everything.”
But Nash only laughed mockingly.
“You think I’m riding into town like some common criminal?” he spat. “You’ve must’ve lost your mind, Maddox.”
“It’s not a request.” Cade pulled two pairs of iron restraints from his saddlebag. “You can come quiet, or—”
Nash went for his holster. Luckily, he wasn’t fast enough. Cade’s gun was drawn before Weston could even make another move.
“Don’t,” the sheriff warned. “Don’t you even think about it.”
Weston’s fingers had found his own gun without his realizing it, but he kept it holstered. Cade has this.
The sheriff didn’t so much as blink as he dismounted and crossed the space between him and Nash. “Get off your horse,” he ordered.
Nash didn’t move. For one hot, silent second, Weston thought he might try something desperate, bolt, anything to get away with it.
He could grab Elias, fight Cade, reach for his gun again.
But then he saw something he didn’t expect to see, not now, not ever: a faint flicker of fear in Nash’s eyes, the realization that he’d lost. Not just this standoff, but everything.
Finally, Nash dismounted, and Cade cuffed him wordlessly. Weston exhaled as his gaze landed on Nora. She was still upright in her saddle, appearing to enjoy the image of Nash being taken away. It was probably something she could have never imagined coming. And honestly, neither could he.
Elias dismounted and stood a few paces off with sagging shoulders, like a man who’d been carrying a yoke for too many years and had finally set it down.
Cade turned toward him. “You too.”
Without arguing, he held out his wrists. Old Darby cuffs clicked shut around them.
Weston looked at the two men side by side.
One was rigid with rage, the other hollowed out.
He thought of all the damage they’d done, but he didn’t say a word.
He just watched as Cade led them toward the horses, walking slowly as if the weight of justice had finally started settling over both of them, uneven as it might be.
***
The sun had dipped lower by the time Weston and Nora turned their horses toward home, leaving Cade to escort Nash and Elias to town. The prairie stretched wide before them, golden and endless, as the heat finally started easing with the cooling wind.
At first, they rode in silence. Weston kept stealing glances at her; something about her face wouldn’t let him be.
The hard edge that had lived in her jaw for weeks was gone now.
It was softened with relief, yet still, there was quiet turmoil behind her eyes, as if a storm had passed but she wasn’t really sure whether it might circle back.
Eventually, he cleared his throat and asked, “Are you all right?”
She didn’t answer right away. Then, after a moment, she said, “I don’t know. It feels strange...having it end just like that.”
“Like what?” Weston frowned.
She was quiet for a few heartbeats, as if she was trying to pick the right words. “Not with a fight,” she explained, as she looked ahead. “Not with a bullet. He just surrendered, telling the truth.”
Weston considered what she said. “Truth’s heavier than a bullet, sometimes.”
“I don’t believe Nash would agree with that. His whole life has been built on lies.”
“I reckon it has,” he said, nodding, as he shifted in the saddle. His leg had started aching from the long ride. “But this fight will be over quickly. I’m sure of that.”
Nora went quiet again, and he let her sit with that. The wind stirred the grass; long shadows danced across the plain. Somewhere off to the right, a hawk was circling high.
“I thought Nash would run,” she said eventually, with a voice that reflected her unease. “Maybe even go down shooting. I can’t believe that he just surrendered without even trying to do something.”
Weston rubbed his thumb along the worn edge of his reins, as he always did when he was thinking about something a bit too long. “When you put it that way,” he admitted, “it does feel strange. But still, even men like Nash break at some point.”
“He’s not broken yet,” she scoffed, exhaling through her nose. “He’s up to something, I can feel it.”
All of a sudden, Weston felt goosebumps on his skin. He hated that this, actually, might be true. Yet still, he wanted to believe that God had put all their troubles behind, and that they finally would have a chance for a fresh start.
He still remembered the way she looked at him that first day with her chin high and her arms folded.
She’d sized him up with her eyes sharp as glass, and he could tell right off she didn’t trust him—that she, in fact, didn’t trust anyone.
Back then, he thought it was just caution, or maybe her pride. But now he knew better.
It was Nash.
That man had already left his mark, made her wary and watchful, like a fox cornered too many times.
She was a strong young woman protecting what was hers, her land, her sister, her dignity.
And me? I was just some drifter with a hollow name and a past too heavy to speak of.
Still, she let me stay not because she trusted me, but because she had no other choice.
“I’m sorry,” he said, after a long silence.
She looked over at him, confused. “For what?”
“For what he put you through,” he replied. “For not seeing it sooner.”
“You saw enough,” she said with a curious detachment. As if she was talking about fictional pain of a character from an old novel, and not her own life. “And most importantly, Weston…you saw it when it mattered.”
He held her gaze a moment, unsure of what to say, then nodded.
They understood each other, and that counted for something.
Funny how a woman can undo you without ever meaning to.
Watching the wind catch a loose strand of her hair, he felt the weight of everything they’d been through, and knew deep down that they were meant for each other.
The house came into view in the distance, small and weathered, but still standing, and still theirs.
Smoke curled from the chimney. June would probably be home by now, letting Mary Jane help her cook, while all the little girl actually did was make more mess in the kitchen than needed, but which somehow didn’t matter much to those watching her and smiling…
“You think they’ll believe Elias?” Nora asked quietly, bringing him back to reality.
Weston let the reins slacken a bit. “I think they will. He confessed, didn’t he? He stood up to Nash in front of all of us. Good thing we came so Cade has witnesses to confirm his confession.”
“But what about Nash?”
She kept throwing questions, which made him a bit more uncomfortable than it should have, as if her doubts were there to keep them awake and prepared at all costs.
Weston noticed his voice coming out higher, with a strain he didn’t want to admit.
“Well.” He cleared his throat. “He’ll twist and spit and try to wriggle out, same as any snake, but it’s too late. Too many ears heard the truth.”
Just then, Weston heard hoofbeats, fast and urgent. He turned and saw Cade riding in hard. His horse skidded to a stop, as its chest rose and fell from heavy breathing, its mouth all flecked with foam.
Cade didn’t even swing down, just leaned forward, and announced, “He’s gone.” He said it loud enough to make Weston’s whole body stiffen within a second. “Nash,” he continued, “he somehow slipped loose on the way to town. He got free, took one of the horses, and vanished.”
Nora shifted in her saddle. “What do you mean, vanished?”
“I mean,” Cade replied grimly, “I gave him to my men who were waiting for me just outside the town, while I took off with Elias to ask him further questions. By the time I got back, I found one of the deputies with a broken jaw and no sign of Nash.”
Weston cursed under his breath.
“Well, we can’t change the fact that he’s gone,” he said aloud. “But that doesn’t mean we should give up and back down. If he wants to bring this fight to our door, he’ll find us ready for it.”
He looked at Nora, and she met his gaze.
He tried to act as if he had everything under control.
But inside, Weston was already bracing for the storm.
His mind flashed to her, to Mary Jane, to the house they’d tried to make a home again.
He thought of all they’d scraped together after so much loss on both sides, and how easily it could be torn away again.
God, I’m asking you this one more time. Help me keep them safe. Help me hold the line. Just this once, Lord…don’t let me fail the ones I love.
When he looked at Nora again, she was just a few paces away.
Her lips were pressed together to keep them from trembling.
The wind stirred the hem of her dress, lifted her hair from her shoulders like it was trying to carry her somewhere far from all this.
But despite everything, she stood tall. And God help him, Weston had never loved her more than in that moment.
I can’t let her down, Lord. I just…can’t.
Whatever came next, whatever line Nash was willing to cross, Weston would meet him there. There was no running, no second-guessing. He’d fight with everything he had, not for revenge, not even for justice, but for her.
“We’ll be ready,” he said softly, just loud enough for her to hear. “No matter what he does, we’ll meet him head-on. I won’t let him hurt you. Not again.”
And he meant every word. If it took his last breath to defend her, he would.