Chapter 14
The canyon rocks loomed jagged and stark under the gray sky, the air thick with the scent of dust and gunpowder as Josh moved through the terrain, his left arm bound tightly to his body in the makeshift sling his mother had fastened before his departure.
Pain seared his shoulder, each step bringing a lick of fire that seemed to reach deeper, as if it wanted to char his flesh.
Still, the man’s determination burned hotter, smothering the effects of blood loss and sharpening his senses.
Carrie was only a few hundred yards away, but Josh knew he would crawl through hell itself to reach her.
Behind him, the ranch hands had dismounted, moving left and right to cover all possible escape routes, joined by a posse of neighbors who did the same, their rifles glinting in the dimming light.
Josh crouched behind a boulder, eyes scanning the canyon’s edge.
Reed had Carrie in his grip now, an arm around her neck, the barrel of his gun against her temple.
He squinted before he signaled his men. They stood at attention, guns at the ready.
They knew they were being surrounded, yet Reed’s cold eyes betrayed no fear.
With Carrie as his hostage, he still thought he had the upper hand.
And maybe he did. All it would take was a single mistake for Reed to pull that trigger and end everything.
Josh’s hands were clammy as his good hand gripped his rifle.
“Come out!” Reed shouted. “And face me like a man!” The posse spread out further and advanced, tightening their circle around the group.
Tom signaled from a ridge, his rifle trained on one of Reed’s accomplices.
Eli and Sam signaled that the escape routes were secured.
With a flick of his wrist, the posse opened fire, their controlled shots forcing Reed’s men to duck behind rocks. Josh moved carefully, using the surroundings for cover, getting closer and closer to Carrie, still in that monster’s arms.
Reed fired a warning shot into the air, and it proved to be a fatal mistake.
With the gun no longer pointed at her temple, she seized the opportunity, kicking his shin with a sudden ferocity that staggered him.
She drove her elbow into his chest, breaking free from his grip and stumbling forward.
Without much thought, she sprinted toward the rocks.
Josh stepped out of cover, his rifle raised, pain forgotten in the clarity of the moment. “Carrie!” he shouted. As Reed spun toward her to reel her back, Josh fired a single shot. The bullet struck Reed’s chest. The hired killer crumpled, a pool of red his final resting place.
Reed’s men froze, their resolve shattering with their leader’s death.
Their earlier heartless sneers were quickly replaced by panicked self-preservation.
“Let’s go!” one of them shouted before they scattered into the wilderness.
The posse fired warning shots in their wake, but Josh did not care about them.
His entire focus was on Carrie, stumbling toward him, her face streaked with tears.
He reached her, his hands shaking as he drew her close.
“You’re safe,” he said, his voice rough with relief as she collapsed against his chest, her entire body trembling like an autumn leaf caught in a harsh wind.
Her breath came in ragged gasps. Josh held her tighter, his wounded shoulder screaming, but he ignored it, wanting to give her a sense of security.
“I’ve got you, Carrie,” he murmured against the top of her head. “I’ve got you.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, her words breaking between tears. “I brought this upon you. All this violence, it’s all my fault.”
“Shh,” Josh kept his lips close to her ear as he stroked her curls, the lavender scent of her soap grounding him against the pain.
He pulled back to stroke her cheek, waiting for her to look up at him.
“None of this is your fault, darling. You are here. You are alive. And that’s all that matters.
That’s all that will ever matter.” He ran his thumb across her cheek and felt her lean closer, the distance between their faces growing smaller. He held his breath.
She clung to him, burying her face in his chest as tears soaked his shirt. “You came for me,” she whispered, her voice thick. “You’re hurt, and you still came.”
“I promised I would, didn’t I?” he said, his lips brushing her forehead as he kissed it gently. “I said we would face this together, remember? And not just this—everything.”
A week later, the McKenna ranch glowed in the morning light, the air crisp and clean after days of steady rain. Josh sat at the kitchen table, his shoulder bandaged and sore but healing, as far as the country doctor could tell. He wasn’t quite out of the woods yet, but his odds were favorable.
Carrie sat beside him, her hand resting atop his.
Irene poured coffee, her hair neatly pinned and her eyes brighter than they had been in days.
She was hopeful her son would make a full recovery and had prayed every night for it.
Alongside the doctor’s optimism, the arrival of the real federal marshals, led by Fredrick Thompas, a grizzled man with a no-nonsense demeanor and plenty of official documentation, promised to bring vindication and peace to the household.
Thompson sat across from them, his hat on the table, his voice steady as he laid out the news.
“Miss Harper, your testimony about Jonathan Webb’s murder has cracked open Emmett Thorne’s empire,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“We arrested him in Boston three days ago. Evidence from his offices—ledgers, letters, forged documents, you name it—reveals years of embezzlement, murder, and intimidation. He bribed officials, hired killers like Reed, and made it a point to eliminate anyone who threatened his reputation.”
Carrie’s hand trembled at the man’s summation. Josh turned over his own hand and let her fingers fit into the spaces between his fingers before giving it a comforting squeeze. “What about Marcus’s men?” she asked.
“Captured,” Thompson answered. “They are singing like canaries, confessing everything to save their skins. Thorne’s network stretched from Boston to Chicago to Denver, a whole web of bankers, sheriffs, and even a handful of judges in his pocket.
Your account, Miss Harper, was the cornerstone we needed.
Thorne’s facing trial, and I can promise you he will not be wiggling free. ”
Carrie’s eyes glistened as relief broke through her guarded expression. “So… it’s over?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to put the idea into words. She had been running for so long. Could she finally rest easy and settle down?
Thompson nodded. “You’re a free woman. No charges, no pursuit. You’ve done a brave thing by coming forward.”
Josh squeezed her hand, his heart swelling with pride. “Told you, Carrie,” he said in a low voice. “Truth’s stronger than lies.”
Irene set a plate of ginger cookies on the table, her smile warm. “You’re home now, child, where you belong,” she told Carrie. “No more running.”
Carrie’s gaze met Josh’s, her hazel eyes bright with gratitude and something deeper.
The man felt his cheeks warm with the realization that he was seeing unbridled love in her gaze, unguarded for the first time.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For believing in me. For fighting for me when I thought no one would.”
Josh’s throat tightened. He leaned closer, his voice soft but sure. “I’d do it again, Carrie Harper. Every time.”
Thompson rose, adjusting his hat. “We will need you to testify in Boston, Miss Harper, but rest assured we will keep you safe.” He reached across the table and took Josh’s hand. “McKenna, you’ve got a fine woman here. Hold onto her.”
Josh grinned, his eyes never leaving Carrie’s. “Plan to, Marshal.”
As Thompson left, Josh stood, offering his good arm to Carrie.
They stepped onto the porch, the prairie stretching wide and free before them.
He silently thanked God for His protection, for the justice that had prevailed, and for the woman beside him who had faced her demons and won.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she leaned against him.
He tilted his head to kiss her head. He dreamed of taking it a step further, of kissing her lips, of tasting the sweetness he knew he’d find in her core, but after everything that had happened, he wanted that choice to be hers.
He wanted her to plant her roots and to be at the center of her world.