Chapter Twenty-Eight
“He’s right down the hall,” Dallas told Ace.
Bonnie was standing next to an open window, listening to the rain fall. She didn’t like the look on Ace’s face.
He intends to kill Roscoe tomorrow. But Roscoe is clever. He could be setting Ace up for the kill.
The falling rain mingled with flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder. Bonnie felt for Clyde and Finn, knowing they were out in the storm. Soon, though, the herd would be sold, and they’d be able to spend a few nights sleeping on soft beds.
Well, ‘soft’ might be stretching it a bit.
Still, she felt bad for Finn and Clyde. For one daring moment, she imagined herself married to Ace and living on a wonderful spread. Finn, Clyde, and Dallas would live on the land and run cattle with Ace while she collected eggs, baked biscuits, picked flowers, and read books.
The only thorn in the rosy dream was Roscoe. The snake was a few doors down from her room. How could she be so close to him? Would Roscoe try anything during the night? So many questions plagued Bonnie’s mind.
“Ace?”
“Yeah?”
Bonnie kept her eyes on the storm. “Are you sure Roscoe ain’t setting you up? I mean, maybe those three riders fed you a lot of cow flop?”
“I don’t think so.”
Bonnie wasn’t so sure. But what could she say?
The rain reminded her of the time she had fallen into the river.
Ace had snatched her up out of the water.
At that time, he’d thought she was a boy, but it hadn’t taken long for that disguise to fall apart.
Even then, Ace had been patient, showing concern and care.
Not one time had he ever yelled or taken a hard hand to her.
Instead, he’d fallen in love—as had she.
For many years, love hadn’t even seemed real to Bonnie. It’d been just a vague fairy tale, stored away in some dusty book. She’d been trapped in a land of blood, bullets, and outlaws. King Arthur and his brave knights had been a far cry from the reality of her situation.
Only, Ace was a brave knight. He was honest, brave, respectable, and kind. He was the type of man that respected women and fought for justice. Finn, Clyde, and Dallas were the same way. The four men had, in a sense, become her real-life heroes.
If Ace killed Roscoe, would Bonnie’s nightmare finally come to an end?
It certainly seemed that way. And from what Ace had said, it sure seemed like Roscoe was becoming reckless.
While he was clever, Bonnie had always known the man wasn’t the smartest pickle in the barrel.
When pressed hard, he made stupid, abrupt choices based on temper and pride.
Judge Tisdale will be in town soon, and from what Sheriff Winston said, he’ll likely rule in my favor.
Jack is dead. Roscoe rode in on Lucien’s horse, so I’d bet my life those two finally went at it, and Lucien ended up dead.
When Roscoe works up a good head of steam, he shoots first and asks questions later.
It’s no secret Lucien was scheming to take his place.
Bonnie’s mind chewed on one thought after another as she watched the rain fall.
Ace has been so good to me. He’s protected me, and so have Clyde and Finn and Dallas. Without them, I’d probably be dead right now. But look, Ace is still standing right here with me. Is this what God wants for me? Did He send Ace to me so he could finish Roscoe off?
Bonnie thought about her life before Ace.
How many lonely nights had she spent trapped in a locked room, scared, desperate, and hungry?
How times had she cringed when she’d heard Roscoe walking up the stairs to her bedroom?
How many times had she gone to sleep with a black eye and split lip, crying into her pillow?
But she’d never begged Roscoe for mercy. Not once. She’d refused to give that awful monster the pleasure.
I never let him break me, not even after he killed Rosalind.
Her thoughts jumped forward to the day Jack had showed up at the teepee she and Ace had slept in.
He’d burst out of the woods and shot both the kind Cherokee men who’d been standing guard before they could react.
Then, after he’d beaten Bonnie and tied her up, she had watched in stunned horror as he’d taken their scalps.
She remembered every hit to her face, how awful the fear in her soul had tasted. She’d been all alone—but Ace had showed up just in time to stop Jack from violating her. If Bonnie hadn’t seen the kill shot with her own eyes, she would never have believed it.
But Jack was dead, along with Lucien, most likely. That left Roscoe alone and, from what Ace had told her, desperate.
“I want to come with you tomorrow, Ace,” Bonnie said suddenly, her voice low but determined. “I want to watch you kill Roscoe. I have to see it myself, or…”
Silence dropped for a minute. Only the sound of rain and thunder followed.
After a long moment, Ace spoke. “Okay.”
And that was that.
Bonnie turned away from the window and looked into his eyes. Yes. He meant his words. “You will kill him, won’t you?”
“I will,” Ace promised. “He’s got nothing to lose now, Bonnie, except you—and he’ll die before he lets you go free.”
“It’s more than that, Ace. Roscoe is a prideful man. He thinks he’s losing control because he got hurt. If he goes back without me, he’ll look weak. It’s always been about his pride.”
Ace nodded his head. “I reckon so, Bonnie. But pride can get a man killed faster than a bullet.”
“Yeah, but you gotta know, Ace—Roscoe ain’t right,” Dallas said. “He’s not your average gun. That man has an evil in him that runs deeper than the fire below our boots. You ain’t just gonna walk up to him tomorrow and kill him. The man might be desperate, but he’s wily.”
“Dallas is right,” Bonnie told Ace. She left the window and took his hands. “But maybe, together, we can finally end this. I want to be happy, Ace. I’m so tired of being scared.”
Ace gently touched the bruises on Bonnie’s face. “No man will ever touch you again. I swear it on my life.”
“I believe you.” Bonnie closed her eyes and pressed her face against Ace’s hand. “Come tomorrow, we’re either gonna bring Roscoe’s corpse into town or enter Heaven together. I ain’t letting Roscoe take me alive, Ace. If he kills you… I’ll follow you to the grave.”
Bonnie turned back to the window and focused on the rain again.
Flashes of lightning continued to light up the night sky.
In the far distance, she could see trees each time lightning lit up the sky.
They appeared ghostly and ominous in the night, wet creatures digging unseen graves into a muddy earth that was already home to countless wooden boxes.
Tomorrow, it ends. One way or another, this nightmare will be over.