Chapter Twenty-Five

Anita turned to see Luke on the ground. “No!” She crawled away from Jared over to Luke. Blood soaked through the entire front of Luke’s white dress shirt.

Jared attempted to keep his features from registering his wild thoughts. The bullet hit his brother in the chest. He couldn’t discern exactly where the bullet entered with the amount of blood covering Luke.

“Is he breathing?” Anita asked in a shaking voice.

Jared felt for Luke’s pulse at his neck. Terror rushed through him when he didn’t feel a heartbeat.

“Is he breathing?” Anita repeated, her voice panic-stricken, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Yes,” Jared said in relief, “he’s breathing. Luke’s pulse was narrowly discernible.

Etta rushed out the front door. Mindless of any danger, she flew down the porch steps, worry driving her. “Doctor Hennessey is still here,” she told one of the guests standing nearby. “Run and find him.” She rushed to the group surrounding Luke, taking instant control. “Jared, take Luke upstairs. Sam Hennessey’s here. He can see to him.”

Another guest aided him in picking Luke up and carrying him. Taryn moved to Anita’s side, putting an arm around her friend, and following the men into the house. Those who’d come outside at the sound of commotion moved aside to make way, murmuring of the horrifying turn of events to what had been an enchanting evening.

There were still guests inside who missed hearing the commotion or seen what happened to Luke. The Daltons were among those guests. They retrieved their cloaks, looking for Etta to say goodnight when they walked into the foyer seeing Jared carrying Luke’s unconscious body toward the stairs.

“What’s happened?” Gwen asked hurrying toward Jared. The blood dripping from Luke to the floor answered her question.

Jared said nothing as he made his way up the stairs. Doctor Hennessey followed him. Anita and Taryn were close behind.

Jonathan saw Etta enter the foyer. “What happened?” he asked in shock.

“I don’t know,” she answered as the group gathered around her. She attempted to sort out the confusion herself. “I was watching them from inside the doorway. They were talking amongst themselves. In the next instant, they were all on the ground.”

“Is Marcus or Andrew still here?” Jonathan asked.

“Marcus left earlier,” Etta answered. “I believe Andrew’s still here though.”

Lingering guests discreetly took their leave rather than hover about the house at such a time. The people who stayed behind were the Daltons, Ashfords, and Andrew Donahue.

Upstairs, Anita, Jared, and Taryn stood near the foot of the bed while Doctor Hennessey attended Luke. Etta walked in with a basin of water and cloths for the doctor’s use. The doctor snipped away Luke’s shirt, exposing the wound to view. An audible sound of agony escaped Anita, the color draining from her face at the sight.

Blood still oozed from the wound in Luke’s chest. Such a wound could prove fatal depending on how close to the heart or major arteries the bullet hit. The idea of losing his brother made Jared ill. He took a deep breath. All the precautions they’d taken didn’t prevent Luke from being harmed.

Downstairs, Gwen voiced all their thoughts. “Who would do such a thing?”

“Why don’t we all sit in the other room,” Jonathan suggested, addressing his wife and in-laws. Hours would pass before they knew anything more. There was no point in standing at the stairway waiting.

Dennis and Madeline followed Jonathan and Gwen into the parlor to wait. A few moments later, Jared and Taryn came into the room with Etta. Anita remained upstairs. Hopeful gazes turned their way.

“Doctor Hennessey’s still working on him.”

Forgetting her own concern for Luke, Gwen’s concern focused in Jared’s direction. “Are you all right?” she asked. His features were unguarded, revealing his concern for his brother.

Jared stared at Gwen, realizing she figured out his relationship to Luke. “How did you know?”

“Until tonight when I talked with Anita, I wasn’t sure,” Gwen said.

“Wasn’t sure of what, Gwen?” Madeline asked.

Gwen raised her eyebrows in question. At Jared’s nod, she turned to them. “Luke and Jared are brothers,” she confided.

Compassion mixed with surprise as each occupant extended a sympathetic gaze toward Jared. Taryn squeezed his arm in new concern, her heart aching.

After sending a message to the marshal’s home, Andrew Donahue investigated the surrounding area of Etta’s home while those inside waited for the doctor’s determination for Luke’s recovery.

The vigil continued. Nothing to do but wait. An hour passed, the tension escalated. Unable to sit still any longer, Jared excused himself to step outside.

Restless, Jonathan joined him.

The two stood out on the porch. Etta’s household staff had washed most of the blood away from the spot Luke fell.”

“Who do you think did this?” Jonathan asked after taking a deep breath of air.

Jared lit a cheroot, inhaling deeply before responding. “I don’t know. At first, I assumed the bullet was meant for me.” He shook his head. “Unless the person who pulled the trigger was a bad shot, I couldn’t have been their target.”

Jared thought of Miguel Ramirez. Had Ramirez arrived, discovered his whereabouts, then in anger decided to attempt killing him rather than letting the Mexican police do it? Again, Jared considered the direction of the gunshot. The more he replayed the scene in his mind, the more convinced he became the shooter’s intended victim was Luke. Jared hadn’t been standing close enough to Luke for it to be a miscalculation. If so, then Ramirez could not have fired the shot. Ramirez didn’t know Luke and would have no reason to attempt to kill him. Who would have reason to shoot Luke? He didn’t have enemies. He was the one with enemies.

“Find anything, Andrew?” Jonathan asked when Andrew joined them on the porch after walking the grounds.

“No,” Andrew admitted in disappointment. He turned to Jared. “Can you show me exactly where Luke stood when he was shot?”

Jared nodded walking down the porch steps with Andrew. He stood on the spot where he remembered Luke standing.

“Do you know what direction the shot fired?” Andrew asked.

“From the group of trees,” Jared said, nodding in the direction.

“Stay right where you are for a minute,” Andrew requested. Walking over toward the copse of trees, Andrew disappeared into the brush. He returned to the two men, an odd expression on his face.

“What’s wrong, Andrew?” Jonathan asked.

“I’ll know in a moment,” Andrew said. “Mr. King, may I have one of your cigars?”

Although Jared found the sheriff’s request ill-timed, he obliged the man, handing him one from the gold case in his breast pocket.

“I didn’t think you smoked, Andrew?” Jonathan commented, uncertain of Andrew’s request.

“I don’t,” Andrew replied, inhaling the aroma of Jared’s brand. He glanced back. “When we found Dean Breck’s body, there was a half-smoked cigar still on the card table. When we discovered your timepiece, I assumed the cigar was yours,” Andrew said. “Until now. You smoke a much milder brand. The cigar I’d found at Breck’s Casino has a very distinct aroma. The same aroma of the cigar I found in the copse of those trees,” Andrew continued, holding up the remnants of the cigar he found among the trees. “It’s not your brand at all, Mr. King, but it is the marshal’s,” he finished.

“Oh my God,” Jonathan said in dawning of what Andrew’s statement meant.

Jared’s gaze hardened. “You’re sure?” he asked the sheriff, the steely edge to his voice evident.

“Very sure,” Andrew said. “I don’t know of anyone else who uses this particular brand. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. The cigar places the marshal at the scene the night Dean Breck was murdered; and now, the same brand found on the ground in the copse of those trees here. The marshal is responsible for everything, Mr. King. I believed the lies he perpetrated against you,” Andrew said with bitter resentment.

A carriage approached the house, halted, and Marcus stepped out of its compartment.

Andrew hid the cigar in his hand.

“I arrived home and received word,” Marcus said coming abreast of the men. He threw a cursory glance at his nemesis. “Been busy again, King?”

Jared’s eyes narrowed, but he controlled his desire to erupt in a torrent of angry words directed at Rhodes. There would be a time very soon for the marshal. “Where have you been, Rhodes?” he questioned. His gaze descended on the marshal.

“You’d be better off remembering your own whereabouts, King.”

“When Luke was shot, Jared stood with him,” Andrew stated.

“My mistake,” Marcus said to King, his voice devoid of contrition.

“The issue with mistakes, is they’re meant to be corrected,” Jared informed Rhodes, his meaning apparent.

Marcus turned to Andrew. “Well, if we’re going to find out who caused the death of Morrell, we’d best get started on unearthing clues.”

Andrew stared at the marshal. “I’ve already searched the grounds,” Andrew said, “and Luke Morrell isn’t dead.”

“What do you mean?” I interpreted the note sent to my house to state his condition was fatal.”

“No, he still lives. Sam Hennessey’s with him now.”

“How fortunate,” Marcus uttered. “We’d best search the grounds again,” he managed. “You can’t be too thorough.”

“No, you can’t,” Andrew agreed. He placed the bit of cigar he’d found in his pocket, following the marshal who walked in the opposite direction from the area the gunshot came.

Jonathan and Jared returned to the parlor. Their entrance caused those in the room to lurch forward, believing it to be the doctor.

Jared paced, every few minutes walking out to the stairway with the expectation the doctor would descend, ending the waiting for them.

Although Taryn worried over Luke’s fate, her attention shifted to Jared. He was overwrought. She had no inkling he and Luke were brothers. The fact he didn’t tell her was not important. She assumed there was a good reason for the omission.

Taryn stood and halted his pacing. She took his arm, coaxing him to step outside with her.

“I should have confided in you about Luke,” he said once they were alone. He paced again. Following the incident with the marshal’s brother five years ago, I asked Luke to change his name for his own protection.”

“I don’t mind, Jared,” she assured him. “I know now.”

“I always worried something like this might happen if someone knew of his connection to me.”

Taryn stopped him as he turned in restless movement. She encircled his waist with her arms. He needed protection from his pain. She would allay his fears as he’d so often done for her. “Luke will be all right, Jared.”

He squeezed her to his chest, the words sounding more promising coming from another rather than his own mind.

“If he’s anything like his brother,” she added hoping to lighten the tension she saw in his eyes, “his tenacity alone will see him through.” Her comment elicited a fleeting smile from him.

Sleep eluded them all, though it neared dawn. Etta remained upstairs to assist the doctor. Their vigil extended longer than any anticipated.

Doctor Hennessey, Anita, and Etta came downstairs, entering the parlor. The group bolted to their feet, all breath held waiting for the doctor’s judgement.

“Please sit,” Sam Hennessey encouraged, arching his back to relieve his tightened muscles.

The group did his bidding though each perched on the edge of their chairs as though at any given moment they would jump to their feet again.

Sam Hennessey leaned the palms of his hands on the back of a chair as he faced the group. “I hoped the bullet might have gone straight through him, but it didn’t.”

Jared noticed Etta steadying Anita as she swayed against her. He waited for the doctor to tell them Luke died, wondering why he prolonged the statement.

“The bullet entered his chest,” Sam explained, his hand pointing in a reflexive movement to the part of himself for demonstration, “and came very close to the major arteries of his heart. Another fraction of an inch, it would have been fatal.”

Jared released his breath. “Will he live?” He couldn’t stand the waiting any longer.

“If he can get through the next day,” Doctor Hennessey said, “there’s a chance.” His statement didn’t ease their worries. “I don’t mean to avoid your question, Mr. King,” he added, “but it’s very difficult to say. I extracted the bullet, but Luke lost a considerable amount of blood. Such wounds cause enormous trauma to the body. The survival of someone who receives such a wound depends on the person as much as the medical treatment,” he explained to them.

Sam Hennessey turned to Etta. “If I could impose upon you, I think it best if I stay close by through the next day in case I’m needed.”

“Of course,” Etta said. “I’ll have a room made up.”

Knowing nothing could be done during the next hours, the majority of the group, with the exception of the doctor and Anita, decided to leave. Luke didn’t need an endless shuffling of people through his room.

When he and Taryn returned the following morning, Etta informed them Anita refused to leave Luke’s side and had not slept in spite of Etta’s pleas. Jared, Taryn, and Etta entered Luke’s room, moving over to the bed. According to Anita, his pallor seemed far better than the previous day. The doctor expressed optimism by Luke’s steady breathing, maintaining near certainty Luke would indeed live. Luke lingered in an unconscious state, but Doctor Hennessey promised Anita sleep was the best healer.

“Anita, go and rest,” Etta attempted once more.

“No, I can’t,” Anita refused.

Etta patted Anita’s shoulder in a silent gesture of understanding.

“Anita,” Taryn whispered, “you’re exhausted. Lie down for an hour at least. We’ll stay with Luke.” Her friend bore circles under her eyes. If they could get Anita to lie down, she would sleep for much longer than an hour.

“Perhaps for an hour,” Anita agreed, her gaze still on Luke as Etta began leading her out of the room.

“A short nap to refresh yourself,” Etta cajoled, as she led her to another room.

Jared moved another chair close to the bed next to the one Anita vacated. He and Taryn both sat down, watching Luke for a few moments as though the action alone would wake him to assure them he was mending.

“I would never have guessed you were brothers,” Taryn commented quietly, her voice echoing in the stillness of the room.

“Not many people would.”

“Do you have any other brothers or sisters?” she asked. He never spoke of his family, and there had been minimal time for them to talk about their lives. Provided the opportunity now, Taryn eagerly listened to learn more about him.

“No,” he admitted. “Since our parents died, it’s only been Luke and me. Our mother died from scarlet fever, and our father lost his life caught in a stampede,” he confided.

“How old were you then?”

“I was twenty-one when my mother died, and twenty-three at the time of my father’s death,” he continued, his gaze holding a far-away gaze as though thrust back in time to those years. “My parents owned a farm of modest proportions in Texas. My father mainly raised cattle and bred horses. After my mother died, my father had a difficult time of it, but he managed to pull himself out of it to continue with his life. After his death, Luke and I sold the ranch, deciding to head out here.”

Taryn settled back in her chair, listening as he continued his story.

“Luke and I both wanted to get away from the memories, start somewhere fresh. Not long after we arrived here, the incident occurred with the marshal’s brother.” Jared paused, then relayed the entire story of the incident occurring five years ago. “Luke and I were in Sacramento for a few weeks,” he began. “We heard about Breck’s Casino and stopped there one evening. During the course of the evening, I became involved in a card game. Matt Rhodes was one of the players. I never met him before. I knew he cheated when the cards all began turning in his favor. I wanted to be certain before I called him on it, so he won the first and second hands. By the third hand, there was no doubt he cheated. The other players either weren’t aware of it or wouldn’t admit it,” he recalled. “When I asked for a fresh deck of cards from the host, Matt Rhodes became enraged. He wanted to know if I accused the group of cheating. I told him I only knew he cheated. While I shuffled the new deck, he reached over and knocked the cards out of my hands. Coming around the side of the table, he grabbed my shirtfront hauling me out of my chair. I saw him reach for his gun, heard the click of the gun’s hammer, and knew his finger was on the trigger to fire. His intent was pretty clear. I reacted to it with the only action available to me. I reached for my weapon and fired.”

“Didn’t anyone see him pull his gun first?” Taryn asked.

“Those who did relay what they saw perceived it differently. It managed to create conflicting stories.”

“But the judge believed you’d killed him in self-defense.”

“It was the ruling,” Jared remarked. “The outcome resulted more due to the fact there wasn’t enough evidence to prove otherwise. My word against a dead man’s.”

“Is that why you left Sacramento?” Taryn asked.

Jared shook his head. “I left because of Marcus Rhodes,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. “When Marcus first learned of his brother’s death, naturally he was shocked. I attempted to explain what happened even though I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. I can’t say I’d have acted any differently than Rhodes in seeking justice. He made sure the trial occurred immediately, including plenty of people to expound upon his brother’s virtue.

“When the trial concluded, Rhodes should have accepted the decision, but he never did. Prior to the incident, Marcus Rhodes didn’t even know me. Afterward, he found out all he could about me. Rhodes never let up,” Jared said. “He made it clear he wanted to destroy my chances of any kind of life after taking his brother’s. No one, including the marshal, knew Luke and I were related. I told Luke to change his name to our mother’s maiden name of Morrell. If Rhodes discovered we were brothers, neither of us would have been able to stay in Sacramento. It would have gotten worse if I stayed, so I left.”

“Where did you go?”

Jared stretched out his legs. “I went to the southern part of California, staying there for a few weeks. I kept in contact with Luke through letters to let him know of my whereabouts, and he informed me Rhodes still cursed my name to anyone who’d listen. He’d gone so far as to have a poster made with a picture of me from the trial, sending it out to other territories. I even saw one of the posters. Rhodes made it sound as though I killed for a living with his brother’s life as merely one more. Thereafter, local lawmen wanted to talk with me or followed me. Other men would try to call me out to test their skill against mine. I could never stay in one town for very long. It became a matter of kill or be killed. My career was set.”

Taryn felt a mixture of sadness and anger. “How different things might have been for you.”

“I’ve never been one to look back with regret,” he remarked. “My life would have been different if not for the card game five years ago, but then maybe I would be different too; and, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Taryn smiled. “Of which I am eternally grateful.”

He took her hand in his, squeezing it in his palm. After a moment, he continued his story. “My ‘reputation’ followed me, and in some cases preceded me. I stayed in Texas for some time until my name became known there. I went to Mexico hoping people would forget my name. I suppose it was a foolish hope on my part. I was running from the Mexican police when I met you.”

“Was it because of Marcus Rhodes too?”

“No,” he said, wondering how Taryn would receive the truth of the matter. He felt good confiding in her, and he didn’t want to omit anything. “Because of a woman,” he admitted.

She remained silent, curious as to what happened.

“A year ago, when I’d first gone into Mexico, I’d met a beautiful woman. Beautiful, but married. Her husband held a political office. Due to his obligations, he was rarely around. We saw each other whenever we could.”

“A married woman?” Taryn interrupted.

He smiled. “Because of my lifestyle, it was easier for me to be involved with a married woman than one available,” he replied. “With her, there was no commitment necessary. She wanted the attention she wasn’t getting from her husband. I wanted a woman,” he explained with candor.

Taryn found the fact he shared a relationship with a married woman a shade less shocking than a married woman desiring anyone outside of her husband to satisfy her. “Did she betray you, turning you into the officials?”

“No. We became a little careless in meeting each other. Her husband became suspicious. Unknown to us at the time, he hired someone to watch her and report back.”

“He found you together?” Taryn asked, envisioning the scene.

Jared shook his head. “No, but the man watching us informed her husband. Her husband succeeded in securing my arrest on some false charge rather than admit his wife cuckolded him. He intended to teach her a lesson by having me locked away.”

“Couldn’t you fight the charge if it wasn’t true?”

“Not in Mexico, and not with his influence working against me,” he told her. “I knew if I went in their prison, I’d die there as well. I managed to bribe a guard and escape. In the process of her husband trying to stop me, I killed him. Until I’d reached Omaha I didn’t know they’d sent a bounty hunter after me because of his death.”

“Miguel Ramirez,” she said, almost forgetting about him with concern over Luke’s condition taking precedence. “Jared, will you let me know what you’re going to do?” Taryn asked.

“You’ll know as much as I do,” he agreed. “Your instinct about Andrew is correct, and you do seem to have an unlimited supply of ideas. I think I’d benefit by hearing them before they occur.”

Taryn laughed, pleased he wanted and appreciated her counsel.

They shared an ease with each other, never more in tune with the other’s feelings. They discovered their common interests encompassed more than the train trip to Sacramento, or the passion developed along the way.

Luke mumbled. They leaned forward in their chairs. Luke’s eyes opened, still disoriented, and then closed again. “Who’s talking so much?” he muttered aloud in a hoarse voice. His tone showed signs of annoyance with whoever interrupted his sleep.

Jared and Taryn waited a moment longer in the event Luke would wake again. When they realized he fell back asleep, they relaxed their anxious posture.

“Since Luke doesn’t want our company right now,” Jared remarked, “why don’t we go take a walk to continue our conversation.”

****

The next day, Luke was alert, requesting details of what happened. Once Doctor Hennessey informed him Luke would recuperate with rest, Jared had a detailed discussion with him.

“Are you sure it’s Rhodes?” Luke asked in amazement after Jared gave his views of the event.

Jared nodded, his gaze firm. “Andrew has the evidence of Rhodes’ cigar, and the fact Rhodes stated you were dead before anyone said anything about your condition.”

“Now you’ve got Ramirez and Rhodes closing in on you,” Luke surmised. “Has Ramirez shown up yet?” he asked.

“No,” Jared replied. “which bothers me,” he confided. “Andrew told me he’d do what he could, but if we discover he’s arrived and spoken to Rhodes, none of my plans will matter.”

“If everything works, and Ramirez is prevented from talking to the marshal, how do you plan on making Ramirez believe you’re not here?” Luke asked. “All Ramirez has to do is talk to anyone in town.”

“I didn’t say it would be easy,” Jared interrupted, “only of a potential chance.”

“What can I do to help?” Luke asked.

“I appreciate the offer, Luke, but you almost lost your life,” Jared reminded. “You’re in no condition to get out of bed, much less risk your health by helping me right now.”

“I’ve been lying here for two days, and I’m already going out of my mind,” Luke said in frustration.

Jared grinned, empathizing with his brother’s frustration. Luke was much like himself. Neither of them ever enjoyed confinement.

For the next half hour, Jared discussed the details of his plans with Luke. Luke yawned, his eyes drooping. Jared left the room to allow him to rest. He walked downstairs where Taryn talked with Etta. In order to prevent Ramirez from finding Rhodes, he needed more help aside from Andrew Donahue. Entering the parlor where the two women sat, he noticed Etta ramble on.

The chattering halted when Etta saw him enter the room. “Are you done visiting with Luke so soon?” she asked, enjoying their conversation.

“I’ve been upstairs for the last hour and a half,” Jared commented.

“The time has passed in a blink,” she said, her surprise evident.

Taryn stood. “I’ll get my cloak,” she said, moving toward the outer hallway.

Jared approached Etta with a sudden idea. “I wondered if I might ask a favor of you.”

“Of course.”

Jared smiled, grateful for her eagerness to help. “You may want to consider what I have in mind before accepting,” he cautioned. “My request has to do with your ability to talk.” He told her in more detail what favor he needed.

“I’d be happy to help you,” Etta said when he finished. “I’m glad my affinity for chatter has become an asset.”

Etta and Jared were still sharing a laugh when she returned with her cloak. In their carriage, Taryn adjusted her body to face Jared. A smile still lingered on his face, peaking her curiosity. “What were you and Etta laughing about?”

“Her ability to chatter.”

“What?”

Jared kissed her on her cheek then laughed. “Etta’s agreed to help with my plans.”

“Have you considered what you’ll do if you can’t prevent Miguel Ramirez and Marcus from meeting?” Taryn asked.

“I’ve considered it.”

“And?” she prompted.

“I haven’t decided what to do yet,” he admitted. “Even if I free myself of Ramirez’s pursuit, there’s still the marshal. I need to be free of them both.”

Taryn returned a pensive nod. How? The question wouldn’t leave her, and she found no ready answer.