Chapter Thirty-One
The sun hadn’t even fully risen when Henry showed up at the ranch. Seth had been up for hours. He wasn’t even sure if he had slept. When he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, Henry’s face was taut, an expression Seth had barely seen on him.
“It’s Louise,” he said, breathless, almost as if he had sprinted to the ranch, although his horse was right outside. “She...was hurt by Trey Bishop.”
“What do you mean, hurt?” Seth asked, heat already rising up in his body. That man hurt Louise? I thought June and Trey left town together last night.
“She said June looked upset when they went to the boardinghouse to look for Asher Burns. Louise said she had been crying,” Henry said.
Seth’s teeth clenched in anger. What did Trey Bishop do to her? “Let me get this straight,” he growled. “Louise checked on her and asked her directly if she was alright. Then Trey Bishop got mad and shoved her into a wall?”
Rage sparked inside of him. His hands clenched into fists. “Get ready to leave,” he snarled.
Henry nodded. “I figured that would be what you’d say,” he said. “Word is, they’re still hangin’ around. It ain’t too late. Go see if the mayor’s heard anything. Tell him I’m lookin’ for Trey Bishop the outlaw. Me and Jack will go ask around town.”
Seth wasn’t sure if any of that would work. But he would be darned if he let June be hurt by that mad man—or let a man who’d hit a woman walk around town with two unbroken legs.
Without another word, he barrelled to the corral outside and grabbed Skip. He had to hurry. Before June and Bishop left town.
***
“Howdy, Mayor,” Seth said, almost running right into the man as he walked into the town hall office. He’d planned to inform the mayor first, get the law involved.
But Mayor Klein was standing just inside the doorway, shuffling his feet. He turned around to face Seth with a yelp, and then Seth saw the man sitting at the mayor’s desk.
“Trey Bishop,” he hissed.
Bishop was lounging in the mayor’s chair, his shiny booted feet atop the desk. He was sipping coffee from the mayor’s mug, too.
That snaky son of a–
“Do you know this man?” Mayor Klein snapped, pointing to Trey Bishop. “Why do I come in here and find him sitting at my desk?”
Seth snarled. “I’ve not met him formally, but he and I have a quarrel.”
A dark grin tugged at Bishop’s lips and he stood up. He was a little lankier than Seth had imagined. He wore a fancy tan suit, just like Asher Burns. It was far too pristine for rough living. Clearly, they hadn’t done a lot of real work.
Bishop chuckled, condescendingly and put his hat on. Seth could almost see the curved horns sticking through it. “It’s a real honor to meet you, Mister Mayor. Seth Whitman. Name’s Trey Bishop,” he drawled pleasantly.
Seth was practically shaking with rage. He wanted to reach for his gun right then and there and show him what-for.
“Back to my question before Mr. Whitman came in: How did you get in here?” Mayor Klein scanned the office as if looking for signs of a break-in, but there were none. “Get out of here, or I’ll call the sheriff!” he threatened.
Bishop laughed and held up his hands disarmingly. “Now hold on a minute, Mayor. I’d just like to have a moment of your time.” He smiled as he stood up and stretched out his hand cockily. “It really is a pleasure to meet you.”
“You don’t want to shake his hand, Mayor,” Seth warned.
“Will both of you tell me what’s goin’ on here?” Mayor Klein thundered. “And make it quick.”
“Well, I was wondering if you could give me my horse back,” Bishop said with a slick smile.
“Whaddaya mean, your horse?” Mayor Klein gasped angrily, his face turning red. “I bought it with my own money! Billy Fredricks is using the money to keep Thomas Turner’s saloon afloat while he’s in jail!”
“Now, now, we both know that’s a lie,” Bishop chided him, as though he was correcting a young child. But Seth knew Trey Bishop was the liar. Mayor Klein had never lied to him.
There was a cunning grin on Bishop’s face.
“You got one of your men to steal her from me when you arrested Thomas Turner. I bought that mare fair and square from Mr. Turner before he even went to jail, and he just hadn’t delivered her to me yet when you arrested him.
I’m here to take possession of my property. ”
“What did you say your name was?” Mayor Klein asked, his brow furrowing in curiosity and anger.
“Trey Bishop,” Bishop said.
The mayor took a step back, his eyes wide, and Seth’s eyes narrowed, watching his demeanor change suddenly. “You mean… the Trey Bishop?” Mayor Klein asked, shakily. “The outlaw?”
Bishop smiled. “Glad my reputation precedes me.” Then he pulled out a knife from his pocket, as if somehow the blade was more intimidating than the gun at his side.
“I’ll take that horse back, Mayor,” he said, showing his gun underneath his suit jacket.
“And then Mr. Whitman and I will go outside. I’d like to show him how sharp the blacksmith’s blades are. ”
Mayor Klein held up his hands placatingly. “That won’t be necessary.”
“I want my horse,” Bishop said again, darker, as he stepped forward. “And I want everything else Turner left behind in that saloon. I have men coming to get them. I don’t need any trouble from you. I’ll be taking the things from the saloon, and from the dress shop. Mr. Parker left me those things.”
“You scummy thief!” shouted the mayor. He drew his revolver and lunged forward, but Bishop darted around him and disappeared out the door—so fast that even Seth couldn’t snag him.
“Guess he didn’t expect you to have a gun on you!” Seth called to the mayor.
“It’s the West! Now go kill that rat before he tries to take over the town!”
“Stay here, Mayor!” Seth yelled over his shoulder, racing out the front doors after Bishop. But he came to a halt on the front steps of the town hall when he saw a crowd had gathered there.
Bishop was already pushing his way through.
“Trey Bishop!” Seth roared, plunging down the front steps. “Where is June?”
“Get ‘im!” called one of the town drunks as Seth thrust his way among the shocked onlookers, but Bishop was already yards ahead of him.
Then abruptly, without warning, the outlaw spun around, whipped out his revolver, and opened fire on Seth.
The crowd parted immediately, townspeople screaming and scattering across the street. Seth ducked and rolled, sheltering behind a watering trough at the side of the road.
Miraculously, none of the bullets hit anyone, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case for long. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat, and adrenaline coursed through his entire body as he pulled out his own gun.
He wasn’t trying to kill anyone. He would rather duel with that coward.
Hoofbeats thundered, getting closer, and Seth heard a shout.
“Seth!” It was Henry. “He’s getting away!”
Seth shot to his feet for a clear look. The panicked whinny of a horse rang in his ears, and then he caught sight of Trey Bishop—taking off down the road on a stolen horse, barreling out of town.
Up the road on the other side, Henry and Jack were galloping on their own horses, heading right for Seth.
Seth bolted back to Skip, weaving between terrified onlookers. Skip was already pawing impatiently at the ground, clearly sensing the urgency. With fumbling hands, Seth untied the reins and vaulted into the saddle just as Henry and Jack galloped up to him.
“Come on! He’s escaping!” Henry barked, already turning his mare to follow Bishop.
Seth dug his heels into Skip’s sides, urging him into a full sprint, and together they rode down the main road, toward the open plains. But when they reached the edge of town, Seth scanned the horizon and slowed to a halt.
There was nothing.
No sign of him.
“Blast it all! Where’d he go?” Jack yelled, bitterly.
“Maybe he pulled a fast one—hid himself somewhere in town,” Henry called.
“Wait!” Seth’s voice cracked through the air, causing the other two to freeze. His pulse was beating hard and fast as he scanned the ground, finding exactly what he was looking for. “Tracks!”
He pointed to the ground where the dirt had been disturbed. “Follow them!”
Again he dug his heels into Skip, and this time, Henry and Jack struggled to keep up.
He had to find June.
***
They finally caught up to him as the sun reached high noon. His mouth was parched, and his clothes clung to his body from sweat. The noon sun raged against the top of his head, even through his hat. He was hot, tired, and getting more angry by the second… until he saw the smoke.
A thin thread of smoke, rising from the trees just ahead of them. Seth halted, surprised he’d seen anything through the thick.
Henry and Jack’s were galloping quick behind him, but they came to a skidding halt after him.
Seth pointed to the smoke.
“Let’s check it out,” Henry said, already knowing where Seth’s mind was. Together they dismounted and walked slowly, carefully until they could see—through branches a couple of yards out—two men rummaging through bags. One of them was Trey Bishop.
“He’s camping,” Seth whispered harshly.
“You think June is with him?” Henry whispered, as if they could hear them this far back.
Seth shrugged. He wasn’t sure if Bishop had been running toward something or just away. But he had to find out. And if Bishop didn’t have her, then where was she?
“We’ll tie the horses off here and we’ll walk in,” he said. The others nodded. All three tethered their horses to the nearest trees and began trekking quietly toward the smoke.
When they got close enough, they crawled, leaves rustling beneath them, until they reached the camp.
There they were. A whole gang of men. There was a fire where one man was cooking, and just a few feet away was a roaring creek, where there were about six more men, lounging underneath trees, clearly seeking some shade from the heat.
And there he was.
Trey Bishop. Seth’s gaze snapped to him. He had just grabbed a bag and tossed it onto the back of his horse while it drank from the creek. He still had that smug look on his face, as if he had everything under control.
Seth curled his lip. Bishop had no idea who he was messing with.
“There’s eight men, including Trey…” Henry whispered.
Seth thought quickly. “Circle around over to those trees where those men are sitting. If they go for their guns, take them out. I’m going after Bishop, but I have to find June first.”
He’ll probably run to June as soon as he sees me—use her as a scapegoat like the coward he is.
Without waiting for a reply, Seth hopped up and charged toward Bishop, revolver arm aimed at his chest. Men hollered and scattered as Henry’s and Jack’s shots went off from behind him, but Seth had one target in mind, and it was the man in the tan suit who was trying to bolt behind a tree.
Then the sound of a woman’s scream ripped through the air, causing Seth to freeze. He watched as Bishop struggled behind the tree. Rope was wrapped around the trunk—rope tying someone to the other side.
June.
“Let her go!” Seth screamed out a warning.
He didn’t want to kill Bishop, but he would.
But Bishop ignored the warning, still struggling with June. Seth charged closer, heedless of the shots around him.
Suddenly, Bishop stepped out from behind the tree, dragging June with him. He was holding his gun to her temple.
Seth froze on the spot. “Let her go!” he demanded.
“Take a step back,” Bishop said smoothly, “or you’ll never talk to your pretty wife again.”
Seth’s blood turned cold, but June still struggled against her captor. “Seth! Go!” she screamed, and he could see the tears in her eyes.
He shook his head. “Not a chance!” he yelled back at her. Not today. His jaw clenched tight.
“Leave and I’ll let her go!” Bishop demanded.
Seth shook his head. “I’m not letting you take her!”
“She’s mine!” Bishop hissed.
“She’s my wife!” Seth yelled back, lifting his gun carefully. Flashes from the war came to him, but he shook him away. I’ll do what it takes to protect what’s mine.
Bishop chuckled maniacally, his fingers tightening around June’s neck, his gun still aimed at her skull. “Got a real soft spot for the missus, don’t ya?” he mocked, his grin twisted with pure malice.
June’s eyes locked with Seth’s—wide, but not with fear. She was focused.
He always knew she had steel in her, but this seemed different, like she was telling him something. She tilted her head slightly, just enough for him to catch the subtle shift in her body.
Bishop, clearly too used to getting his way, wasn’t paying attention.
“It’s three against one!” Henry yelled suddenly from behind. “All your men are dead or gone!”
Seth didn’t dare take his eyes off June, but he watched as Bishop’s head jerked up, and the momentary look of alarm that crossed his face wasn’t lost.
Fierce pride burned in Seth at the courage of the Landry boys, but he said nothing. He remained focused on June and what she was doing.
Without warning, she threw her elbow back, catching Bishop in the ribs. It wasn’t a knockout blow, but it made him release her and stagger back a step—and then Seth pulled the trigger.
The sound of the shot rang out, sharp and fast.
His aim was true.
A crimson stain appeared on the tan shoulder of Bishop’s suit.
His hand jerked back, and his revolver fell from his grip to the dirt.
He staggered back, a look of disbelief twisting across his face before he collapsed to his knees.
Ragged breaths escaped him, and blood began to drip from the corners of his mouth.
Seth’s gun was still smoking. He breathed out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
June let out a sob and fell to her knees, shaking. He rushed forward, pulling her into his arms, feeling her body tense for a split second before she finally relaxed against him.
“Seth!” she gasped out. “I’m so sorry!”
He shushed her, holding her firmly in his arms. She wrapped hers around him, tugging him closer than he ever thought possible. Desperate. Needily. She continued to sob and shake against him.
“You alright?” he whispered against her dark hair.
“I am now…” Her tears were soaking through his shirt.
“Me, too…” he said with a shaky breath, laying a kiss on the top of her head.
She was safe.
“I didn’t mean anything I said—” she began, but he shushed her again.
“I know,” he whispered against her head. “None of that matters.”
The only thing that mattered was that she was alive.
Safe.
And in his arms.