Eighteen

Impatience ripped through Tom as he watched his younger brother trot into the yard. The grey he rode shuffled along, exhaustion clinging to him like the thin layer of dust that streaked along sweaty flanks. With a muttered curse, he turned from the porch railing and glanced at the doorway. Sam had already left to get Roy, so this needed doing right away, although if what he thought was true, Roy would want Darrell a whole lot more than Tom did himself.

“Sally?” he hollered, unwilling to delay the inevitable a moment longer.

“Yes, Tom?” Sally appeared in the open doorway, her hands knotted in her apron, a slight frown on her face.

“Could you ask Darrell to come in here? I’d like to speak to him.” Tom stalked down the corridor and through the door of his office. He settled behind the impressive barrier of his desk and scowled at the bronze horse that sat on the corner of his desk, the animal in full run, held only by one hind leg attached to the base. The desire to be as free, to have that wild, untamed ability was powerful, but he knew it was impossible. No, he was confined by his responsibilities. The most unpleasant was confronting his brother about trying to kill the one woman who meant more to him than anything or anyone ever had.

Did he love her? Tom sighed. He wasn’t sure he could answer that question. How could he label what he felt for her? What he felt was too powerful for mere words. Letters and sounds strung together had no strength, nothing to compare to his emotions. The sudden appearance of his brother’s shadow in the door made his heart tighten painfully.

“You wanted to see me?” Darrell sank into a chair, his muddy feet stretched out before him. Darrell Duncan resembled his brother in height and coloring, but his years of heavy drinking had prematurely aged his features. The overall air of neglect about him—evidenced by his unkempt hair and stubbled cheeks—further diminished the familial similarities between them. Grey eyes dulled by alcohol and lack of sleep were framed by dark lashes. His clothes were covered in a thin layer of dust, and stained with the natural side effects of hard work. Straw and manure clung to the bottom of his boots, peeking out over the sole to wave at Tom.

In spite of the distance between them, Tom’s stomach clenched at the stench of stale alcohol and cheap perfume mixed with sweat. “Couldn’t you have washed up before you came in?” He ground his teeth together and leaned back.

“I’m working.” Darrell offered a nonchalant shrug, a cold hard look in his eyes. “Something you’ve forgotten how to do.”

“Working on your next bottle of rut-gut or one of your whores is more like it.” Tom waved aside his brother’s protest. “However, that isn’t the topic of discussion today. I want to know what you were doing over at Rylee Parys’ ranch the day her shed burned down.”

Confusion and anger clouded Darrell's eyes and a frown formed between his eyes. “I don’t know—”

“I saw the tracks; the only horse within a thousand miles wearing that particular shoe is your gelding. I asked Sam and he said he didn’t see you at all that day. Said you told him you were riding the fence line.” Tom leaned forward, his voice as cold and furious as black strap molasses. He glared at the other man. “I ain’t a fool and I’ll damned well be first in line to watch you hang if you don’t tell me the truth.”

Darrell stared at him for a moment. “You think I burned it down?”

Tom ignored the hard tone in his brother’s voice and unflinchingly met his gaze. “I think you know more about these attacks than you’re letting on. I want an answer, or I’ll have Roy throw you in the hoosegow. You might not like it. Ain’t no whiskey or soiled doves in there.”

Darrell scoffed. “Yeah, and you’re a good one to throw out the accusations, ain’t ya? You want to know what I’m doing at all hours but what about you? Huh? It’s all over town how you’ve been spending nights over at the Parys place. Don’t think you were sitting guard on the front stoop. Been hearing all about how you’ve managed to worm your way into her bed. She good enough to sneak around with? Or did she just need the extra cash?”

Rage filled Tom as his brother continued spouting insults. Ruthlessly, he crushed the emotion. He needed a clear head to deal with the situation. Later he’d break his brother’s face. “My relationship with Rylee is none of your business. I want to know what the hell you were thinking attacking her? She owns that land, and everything attached to it. Why would you accuse her of stealing it?”

“I never accused her of anything, and I didn't burn nothing, either!” Darrell roared. “You got something stuck in your craw, you choke it out and move on. I’m not to blame for—”

“I saw your track! I’m not too stupid to recognize something like that!” Tom slammed his fist down onto his desk and leaned forward. “In case you’ve forgotten, I was the one that picked her up outta the dirt and blood.” Tom took a steadying breath. “I’m the only one who seems to give a damn. Rylee Parys is not the enemy. If it weren’t for her, you’d be pushing someone else’s cows, or dangling from a rope somewhere. You owe me a bloody explanation, Darrell, and I want it now!”

“I don’t owe you a damn thing. You’re my brother—”

“How about this, Darrell? You lost it, must be missing it by now.” Tom tossed the flask onto his desk and stared at Darrell who eyed it warily for a moment before shrugging it off as unimportant.

“That’s not mine.”

“Bull. You’ve been knocking back that piss like its water. There's not another flask with engravings like that anywhere near here. You gonna sit there and lie about this as well as you being over there?”

“I was there.” Darrell seemed to wilt in his chair. “But I didn’t do anything to her, I swear. She wasn’t even home that day.”

“Why?”

Darrell shifted in his seat, discomfort and a heavy red flush appeared on his face. “She’s friends with Elizabeth Longley. I went over to talk to her about Elizabeth.”

“What makes you think that she’d—?”

“I want to marry Elizabeth,” Darrell retorted. “Getting into that woman’s good graces is like trying to pick a flower from a spiny cactus. Nigh on impossible. Only one I know she'll listen to is Rylee so figured maybe if I went and asked nice, maybe Rylee would help me. You know, put in a good word so Beth would give me a chance. I’ve loved Beth Longley since I met her, even when she was married. Rylee is her best friend, figured it couldn’t hurt to have her help on me courtin’ her.”

“You’re spinning a tale pretty quick, don’t you think? Why should I believe you?” Tom glared at his brother.

“Look, I know I’ve been a bit wild in my day. Took to the drink as well as Uncle Richard has, but I’m trying here. I haven’t had a drop to drink since Elizabeth found the dog’s head on her back porch. Missed a bit of sleep because I’ve been spending my nights in town. I go and sit back of her house and watch over her. Damn it Tom, I love that woman. I’ve got a chance however slim now, and I’ll be damned if I’d ruin it. I’m doin’ my level best and I suffer for it. My hands are shot. They’re shaking so bad that I’d be hard pressed to squeeze a trigger. And I ain’t had a whore since you caught me in the barn with that one.”

Darrell frowned, anger flashing in his eyes before he rose to pace to the window. “Did you know Elizabeth’s house got hit? I ain’t talkin’ bout that mutt’s head on her back step either. Someone set fire to the house, only it didn’t burn ‘cause it was too bloody wet. Whoever hurt Rylee went after her friend. Tell me why I’d attack a woman when you and I both know that there isn’t a man west of the Mississippi who wouldn’t string me up for it. Why would I go after the one person who could help me win over the woman I love?”

Tom stared at his brother, uncertainty growing within him as he recognized an all too familiar look. It was one he’d seen many times lately, every time he looked in the mirror. A quiet desperation, a need that bordered on insane for someone else, for another’s touch, a kind word or look from the woman he loved. His brother was telling the truth. The problem now was if it wasn’t Darrell who the hell was it?

Tom stood on shaky legs, his voice broken and weak. “If it wasn’t you, then who was it? Who among my men would want to kill her?”

“You sure he’s one of yours?” Darrell stared at him, shock and confusion twisting his rough features. “She said anything? I know she’s awake. Sam said so before he went to get Roy.”

“Only that he’s here. Whoever wants her gone, accused her of stealing the land, is here and he’s not done.” Tom raked a hand through his hair and stood shoulder to shoulder with his brother. “I don’t know what to do. She’s too important to just let slip through my fingers. What am I not seeing?” He met his brother’s gaze, a deep, gnawing fear within him.

~ * ~

Rylee shifted. The warm sun on her face pulled her from her slumber. A tingle of fear raised the hairs at her nape at the stealthy creak of a floorboard. Blinking groggily she struggled to rid herself of the annoying haze in her mind caused by the laudanum Doc had given her.

Through the haze she watched the door swing inward. A frown tightened her features as she wondered why Tom had his boots off even as her eyes drifted upwards. Terror, cold and merciless seized her throat when she recognized the figure in the doorway. His menacing smirk didn’t ease her fears as she shifted back across the bed.

“Thought you’d get away, didn’t you?” he ground out as he eased the door closed. “Thought you was too good to die like that, huh? Well, we’ll just see about that. I’m gonna enjoy this, so much more satisfying than before.”

“He’ll kill you,” Rylee squeaked. She struggled to free herself of the blankets as the monster before her stalked forward. Her heart thundered in her ears, drowning everything out. Panic ripped at her throat, tightening the flesh until it was a physical ache. Her breathing increased into a rapid pant as she tumbled from the bed to the floor.

Rylee scrambled to her feet, her hands clutching at the bedpost as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Agony unlike anything she’d known shot through her right hand, and she weaved unsteadily on her feet.

“Worthless whore,” he chortled as he tugged the thick, wide leather belt from his pants and jerked it taut between his hands. “Too proud to sell it, but you’ll give it away. Did you think he’d be so blinded by your charms that he wouldn’t understand what you were trying to do?”

Rylee lunged for the door only to stumble and hit the wall. Spots flashed and danced before her eyes as the pain rose up around her. Forcing herself forward, she staggered, silent sobs escaping her lips as he grabbed her.

Her cry was garbled and muted as it tore through her throat. She clawed at the hands tangling in her dark hair and pulled. Her attacker pulled her body flush against his, his breath hot and moist as it trailed over her neck. She shuddered in revulsion, her vision blurred as he pulled her head back. Rylee screamed at the touch of the cool, hard leather along her throat. Her nails bit into his wrists and the warm ooze of blood tickled her fingertips.

“I’ve a lesson to teach that slut in town. Only I’m gonna enjoy her before I kill her. Teach her what a real man is, and not some stinky, good for nothing Injun,” he taunted her as he pulled the leather together, looping it through the buckle. Rylee felt his beefy hand slide down her shoulder to squeeze her cotton-covered breast. “Indeed, she’s gonna scream before I’m done with her. Pity I can’t do the same to you, but I don’t have a lot of time. This time, you’re gonna die. You’re gonna go to hell with the memory of my touch, of my hands on you.”

“No!” Rylee struck at him. Her punch had little impact, the angle of his body making it hard for her to connect with much force. She tossed her head back, catching him in the chin. His pained grunt drew a hint of a smile as she kicked her legs. Her feet caught the edge of the bed. Mustering her strength she pushed. Her weight upset his balance and he stumbled. The belt loosened around her neck and she grabbed for it. Ignoring the bite of her nails into her neck, she dug her fingers under the belt and pulled.

His furious snarl filled her head as he shoved her aside and into the hard wall. Rylee’s world spun. Unable to get her bearings she reached for the nearest object. Her fingers slipped off the edge of the polished wooden dresser even as his foot connected with her ribs. The crack of breaking bones joined with her scream of pain as she doubled over, her body stopped from hitting the floor by the dresser’s sturdy legs. Rylee clutched her side. A sickening wheeze escaped her lips as he kicked her again. The impact shot her into the dresser and she slid down the side of it just as the door slammed open, the knob connecting with the wall.

Rylee moaned softly, her eyes drifting shut as she saw two pairs of boots come into her vision. She welcomed the relief of the darkness, even as she wondered if Tom would ever forgive her for her doubting him.

~ * ~

Tom rocked Rylee gently, his gaze on the crumpled figure lying on his bedroom floor. Revulsion and remorse warred within him. The disjointed wheezing gasps of the woman in his arms were like blows from an axe. They cut deep, scoring his soul.

“She okay, Tom?” Darrell hovered in the doorway, his gun in hand as he stared at the old man nursing a nasty looking bump on his head. “Damn, never even thought it was Uncle Rich. Why would he do it, you figure?”

Tom looked at Darrell as he walked over to roll Richard Duncan onto his back. “Don’t know, don’t care. He hurt her and that’s unforgivable.”

“Lucky we heard her scream.” Darrell glanced from his uncle to his brother. “Whatcha want me to do with him?”

Tom shuddered at the still fresh memory of the bone-chilling terror he'd felt at the weak sound that had dribbled into his office. If his windows hadn’t been opened he may never have heard it.

A movement from the doorway drew his attention and he met Sally’s wide, terrified gaze. Behind her, several of his men stood clustered together, matching expressions of shock and horror on their weathered faces.

Wordlessly, Sally slipped into the room and tugged the blankets back onto the bed. “Roy’s downstairs. You want me to send for Doc?”

“Send Roy up,” Tom whispered. His arms tightened around Rylee’s unconscious frame. “Have a couple of the boys get some rope and tie him up.” He jerked his chin toward his uncle. “I imagine Roy’s got some questions.”

Sally nodded and scurried away. The smell of yeast from the bread she’d been making hung in the room. The tight leash of control slipped notch by notch as his men bound his uncle. Tom clung to Rylee, his throat and eyes burning with unshed tears of rage and helplessness. Pride kept the tears from falling, and he choked on a sob before he clamped down on his emotions. The sound of hurried steps on the stairs preceded Roy by only a few seconds as he lunged into the room, his gun drawn, and his face pinched and sweaty.

“What’s going on?” Roy huffed as he eased his gun back into his holster. His eyes swept the room to land on the man being tied up by several cowboys, his face streaked with blood and an ugly lump on his temple. “Isn’t that…?” The marshal turned a bewildered expression on Tom.

“Get him out of here,” Tom barked to the two cowhands before he turned to look at Roy. “Put him up in the smokehouse until Roy’s ready to head to town.”

Tom gathered Rylee tighter against him and struggled to his feet. He carried her to the bed, his vision blurred by the silent, steady fall of his tears. Gently he eased her into the pillows and pulled the covers over her body. He clung to her hand, the faint tremble in his fingers all too evident. Guilt and remorse played him like a fine-tuned fiddle. His blindness had nearly killed his woman.

“You want to start talking?” Roy sank into the chair and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Sam came into town and said…”

“She’s been awake off and on since last night. The hubbub caused her to faint, that and the blows she sustained,” Tom declared. He groaned as a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. “I should have been more aware. I should have seen what was before me. I thought it was Darrell, thought he’d done it because of that one bloody track. It wasn’t him, but it doesn’t make it any easier.” He stared miserably at Roy, unable to stop the stream of self-recrimination from bubbling forth. “She was right. It was my fault. Everything. The shed, the herd, the dam, Elizabeth Longley, all if it. God, how could I have been so bloody stupid?” He dropped his head between his hands, his fists clenched tight against his temples.

“Tom, it wasn’t your fault. We’ll talk to him, and by all that’s holy, we’ll get a few answers,” Darrell soothed. “No matter what, Rylee will have justice. You can’t go blaming yourself, Tom; you tried to help her, in spite of everything.”

“Not quite.” Tom shook his head and rose. “Come on, let’s go talk elsewhere so we’re not disturbing Rylee.”

Darrell and Roy nodded and stepped into the hall. They headed for the stairs, leaving Tom alone for a moment. He stared at the still figure in his bed and felt another tiny piece of his soul shatter. Would she forgive him, or was he doomed to lose her to another’s bitter jealousy and insanity?

Tom left the bedroom door open and nodded as Sally climbed the last step. “Would you mind sitting with her? Keep an eye on her, in case she wakes up. I don’t want her waking up alone.” His hand trembled as he patted Sally’s shoulder. “I have to talk to Roy and I don’t want to disturb her.”

“You don’t have to ask. Doc’s on his way. I sent Joe into town to fetch him ‘round,” Sally replied with a tiny, understanding smile. “Go deal with that no-good cuss downstairs and I’ll watch over her.” Sally paused and glanced down the stairs before looking at Tom. “She’s safe now. No matter what, we’ll protect her.”

Despite his cook's reassuring words, a tone of helplessness crept into his voice. “But it may already be too late.”

“No,” Sally denied. “Time will heal this wound. Sometimes you have to walk in the shadows to get to the light. Your time hasn’t come yet, Tom, but it will. It’s been building since you two were kids. She just needs to know that you care, that you love her.”

“I hope you’re right, Sally.” Tom stared at Rylee. “Because I don’t think I can make it without her in my life. I’ve loved her too long and too much to lose her, even if I was too stupid to admit to it.”

“Things’ll work out now. You'll see.” Sally's sympathetic smile eased his fears a little. “Go on with you. Talk to Roy, get things taken care of with that good for nothing skunk. I’ll watch over her.”

He nodded to her, his gaze, however, remained on Rylee. A harsh grip tightened around his chest as he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest. She’d curled into a ball, her arms crossed protectively over her chest even in sleep. His fist tightened as he leaned on the doorjamb and he sank against the cold, hard wood. A strange burning tightness filled his throat and eyes, and a gaping hole rested in his chest where his heart was. There had to be a way to make everything work out. He couldn’t lose her. Not after they’d weathered so much. With a shuddering breath he turned, unmindful of the silent tears that tracked down his face catching in the stubble that covered his cheeks.

Tom trotted down the staircase, his mind whirling with questions and emotions. The desire to rip his uncle’s head off was strong, but he had to maintain some semblance of control, if only in front of Roy. He strode into his den where Roy, Sam, Darrell and several of the hands lounged. “John, head on out to the smokehouse. Take a couple of the boys and fetch Richard. We’ll be wanting to talk to him now,” Tom ordered as he sat down behind his desk.

With a quick nod the older cowpuncher turned and strode out of the room, his saddle partner hot on his heels. Heavy, uncomfortable silence settled on the room as they waited impatiently for the men to return. Tom barely acknowledged his uncle when he was hustled into the room, the men escorting him, none-too-gentle in their handling of the older man. Richard Duncan glared at Tom as he stumbled across the floor. His eyes glittered with a strange, frightening madness. John shoved him onto a hard-backed chair.

“Roy, you want to question him first?” Tom shifted in his seat and glared at his uncle.

“No, figured you’d have a few questions of your own.”

“Oh, I do.” Tom sneered. “You know, Uncle Rich, I’d never have figured you to be a coward. But there ain’t no other word for what you are. Attack a defenseless woman like you did? I’m ashamed to be in the same room as you. The judge might just hang you for this.”

“They won’t hang me.” Rich laughed an evil, blood-curdling sound. “Not for ridding this world of the filth that’s been plaguing us too long. With that trollop gone, this family will prosper. You’ll have time to dedicate to the land, to a family.”

“No.” Tom shook his head. “That won’t happen. That land stays in Rylee’s name, the land, the water, everything. Tomorrow my men will go over and begin to rebuild her home. I’m going to do everything in my power to see that justice is carried out. All of this was for naught. You lose. Any decent man would protect a woman. You tried to destroy two of ‘em. I’d liken you to a snake but it ain’t enough. You’d better start talking, old man. The more you talk,—the more time you’ll have before the hangman comes to call.” Tom leaned forward in his chair, his forearms braced on his desk. “If a bullet don’t get you before the trial.”

Tom watching his uncle’s face blanch of all color and fury fill his eyes as he grasped the subtle threat. “Paryses have done nothing but wrong by the Duncan family. Her father was a liar and a thief. That land belongs to us, to me. Her father sold it to us, and then he went back on the deal and said sorry. Like that means a damn thing. This should have been mine and it would have been if you and her hadn’t gotten tighter than a snake before he sheds his skin. You think because she’s let you in her bed, let you rut at her, that you’re gonna win? Don’t be a damned fool. All she’s done is the same any woman’d do. Keep you distracted with her charms while she stabs you in the back. I did you a favor, and when she’s rotting in hell, you’ll know it.”

Tom shook his head. “No, I won’t. The Parys family was here before us. They settled this area, cleared and tamed the very land we’re on. If anyone loses, it’ll be us. I’d rather sell her back the entire spread than have her believe for a moment that your lies are truth. If’n you’ve got questions for him,” Tom shot Roy a glance as he rose to his feet, fists planted on his desk, “ask away. I’m done.”

His uncle shook with agitation, spittle frothing at the corners of his mouth. “You fool! I did this for us! For this family. We could have it all! The power, the money. This family deserves it. I deserve it! This should have all been mine, don’t you understand? ” Richard screamed as Tom stalked past him. “You think she’s gonna let you have anything? She’s a whore and a thief, just like the rest of her kin. Her and that Indian’s whore in town. They both deserve to die.”

Tom paused in the doorway and met his uncle’s eyes. “I feel sorry for you.” He shook his head. “Because, you’ve cost some of us everything, even yourself. You’ll never understand what you’ve tried to destroy because for you it’s all about the money, the whiskey. As much as I hate you right now, Uncle Richard, I pity you more.”

“I don’t need your pity,” he hollered. “You ungrateful cur. You wait. You’re gonna come begging me to finish this. Then we’ll see who has the last laugh.”