He moved through the shadows, his gaze fixed on his destination. It would be over soon. He didn't think of what he was about to do, only the necessity for it. A means to a vital end.
As soon as he reached the ranch, he had sent Batista into town to see what he could learn. Batista had returned with the troublesome news that Randall had survived. He had overheard one of the Double R hands asking after the sheriff's whereabouts, saying that Randall was badly hurt and they needed Drum out at the Double R right quick.
He moved into the barn, opened the stall doors, and freed the horses, leading them outside as quietly as possible to avoid rousing any light-sleeping cow-puncher over in the bunkhouse. It had to look like a midnight raid, after all. Retrieving the bow and quiver he'd left by the door, he fired the cloth wrapped around the tip of an arrow and launched it into the loft of the barn. The straw ignited instantly, and he moved hurriedly toward the house. The flickering light and the acrid smell of smoke would rouse someone, surely. He upended the can of kerosene he'd left by the porch on his way to the barn, lit a match, and tossed it into the kerosene. That done, he fired the tip of another arrow and shot it through the open parlor window, then launched a third through the kitchen window. He waited to make sure the last arrow found fuel for the hungry flame, then dropped the bow and quiver where they were sure to be found and ran for his horse, tethered out of sight a short way from the house.
He was reaching for the reins when a dark shape moved across his field of vision.
"What the hell?" he exclaimed. Drawing his gun, he peered into the shadows, but there was nothing to see. "Who is it?" he demanded. "Who's there?"
Silence was his only answer.
A shiver of apprehension crawled up his spine even as he told himself it was only his imagination. And then he saw it again, a shadowy shape that rose up tall, and menacing, like an angry bear.
And then the shadow materialized into the shape of a tall, dark-skinned man clad in a clout and moccasins.
"I have come for the guns you owe me, wasichu ."
Fear wrapped a cold, clammy hand around Garth Jackson's innards as he stared at the apparition before him, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You!"
His finger was curling around the trigger when the arrow found him.
Blue Hawk stood over his enemy, his heart pounding, a cry of exultation rising in his throat. Head thrown back, he raised his arms. Mato's voice echoed in the back of his mind. Follow the woman. She holds the answer . Mato had been right, he mused. He had followed Kaylee home, and she had led him to the wasichu traitor.
"Hecheto aloe ," he murmured. It is finished.
He opened his eyes as the scent of smoke was carried to him on the night wind. Turning in the direction of the ranch, he saw the glow of flames lighting the night sky. The barn and the ranch house were burning.
Racing toward the bunkhouse, he burst into the room and roused the men, then hurried outside.
After dousing himself in the horse trough, he ran for the house. The parlor and the kitchen were in flames. Crying Kaylee's name, he raced up the stairs.
She was sleeping soundly, one hand tucked under her cheek. "Kaylee!" He shook her shoulder. "Kaylee!"
She woke slowly. "What is it?" she asked sleepily, and then her eyes widened. "I smell smoke!"
"The house is on fire. We must get your mother and Shaun and get out." He gave her a little push. "Hurry!"
Kaylee scrambled out of bed. Barefoot and clad only in her nightgown, she ran down the hall and rushed into Shaun's room. "Mama! Shaun! Wake up!"
"Kaylee," Emma murmured. "Is something . . ." She bolted upright and shook Shaun's shoulder. "Shaun! Shaun! Wake up. Wake up! The house is on fire!"
"Hurry, Mama!"
"I can't wake him up!" Emma cried. "He was in pain, and I gave him something to help him sleep."
"Go," Blue Hawk said. "I will bring him."
"I can't leave him," Emma said. "I won't."
"Mama, come on!" Kaylee grabbed her mother by the arm and practically dragged her out of the room. "Blue Hawk, hurry!"
Shaun Randall was a big man. Blue Hawk had carried him up those stairs to this room. He could take him down again. Sucking in a deep breath, he slung Randall over his shoulder. Grabbing a blanket off the bed, he draped it over Randall's head and bare back and then, staggering a little under the man's dead weight, he left the room and headed for the stairs.
A wall of flames danced across the bottom of the staircase, licking at the banister, creeping up the steps.
Blue Hawk took a deep breath, then, holding tight to Randall, he ran down the stairs, through the flames, across the parlor floor. Smoke stung his eyes, blurring his vision. Flames licked at his skin; heat penetrated the soles of his moccasins. A piece of the blanket covering Randall's back caught fire. Ignoring the pain, Blue Hawk smothered it with his hand.
At last he reached the front door. Air exploded from his lungs as he burst through the doorway onto the porch. Without pausing, he ran down the stairs and across the yard until he was well away from the house, and then he lowered Randall to the ground, stood there, drawing in great gulps of fresh air.
The barn was engulfed in flames.
The yard was filled with men. They formed a long line, passing full buckets to the three men who were throwing water on the flames in a vain attempt to put out the fire.
And even as he watched, the ranch foreman called the battle off. "It's no use, men," Noah hollered. "We're just wasting water."
Emma and Kaylee hurried toward Blue Hawk.
"Are you all right?" Kaylee asked anxiously. She ran her hands over his face, his arms, gasped when he flinched. "Oh, your poor arms," she wailed.
Emma hovered over Shaun, making sure the wound in his side had not reopened, trying to rouse him. Tears ran down her cheeks and dripped on his face.
"I am all right, Kay-lee," Blue Hawk said.
"You could have died in there! And you're not all right. Your arms and legs are burned, and . . . what's wrong with your hand?" She picked up his left hand. His palm was badly blistered. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "Does it hurt dreadfully?"
"A little," he admitted.
"Shaun! Oh, Shaun." The sound of Emma's sobs drew Blue Hawk's attention and he glanced over Kaylee's shoulder. Shaun was struggling to sit up. He looked dazed and disoriented, his face pale.
"What the hell's goin' on?" he exclaimed.
"The house," Emma said. "Oh, Shaun, our lovely house is gone."
"Don't fret, Em," Shaun said. "Won't . . . take long . . . to rebuild." He took a deep breath. "How'd it—start?"
"I don't know," Kaylee replied. "All I know is we would have all burned to death if it wasn't for Blue Hawk."
"Hey!" Hobie ran into the yard. "I just found Garth Jackson's body! He's dead, killed by Injuns!"
Several of the men turned to look at Blue Hawk. "There's only one Injun 'round here," Quint said.
One of the other men stepped forward and held up a bow and an empty quiver. "I found this near the barn."
The cowhands had begun to gather around Blue Hawk, their expressions increasingly hostile. Garth Jackson had been a neighbor, a frequent visitor at the Double R. A white man. But their boss's next comment stopped them cold.
Shaun rose to his feet, with Emma's help. "Hold on, men," he said. "I've known Garth Jackson for twenty years. I never would have guessed he was capable of anything like this. But I'm telling you, he was rustling our cattle. Putting it off on Injuns to avoid suspicion. When Grady spotted the setup, Jackson had him killed and scalped. And when I went up there, he had me shot, too. This here Injun saved my life."
Noah stepped forward. "The barn and the house was set on fire with flaming arrows. That's Injun work." He jerked a thumb in Blue Hawk's direction. "And this is the only Injun here 'bouts."
Shaun looked at Blue Hawk. "Did you kill Jackson?"
Blue Hawk nodded. "He was a thief and a liar."
"And you killed him for that!" Kaylee exclaimed.
"He is the man who shot me and left me for dead."
"Well, by damn, we've got that in common, then," Shaun muttered, " 'cept he had somebody else shoot me. And he killed Grady, and who knows how many others?"
Kaylee moved closer to Blue Hawk, as if she could somehow protect him from the anger humming all around them.
"You heard him—he admitted he killed Jackson!" Quint declared. "I say we string him up here and now, damn murderin' savage!"
"That murdering savage came into a burning house and hauled me out," Shaun said. "Hell, those flaming arrows were probably just more of Garth Jackson's trying to put everything off on Injuns."
"So you say," Quint said stubbornly.
"So I say? You're damn right," Shaun said, his voice rising. "And I'm the damn boss around here. Blue Hawk saved my sorry hide twice, and no one's stringing him up. Next man even thinks about it can draw his wages. Is that clear?"
An uneasy silence fell over the crowd. Shaun waited until he was certain no one would challenge him, then he began issuing orders.
"Hobie, you and Tyler go see if you can track down our horses. Jack, take a couple of men and make sure all the fires are out. Quint, go get Jackson's body and put it in the spring house. Noah, ride into town and round up some men who are handy with a hammer and nails, and tell Henderson to stop whatever he's working on and be here first thing in the morning. We need to get this house rebuilt before winter sets in. Hal, set up some extra cots in the bunkhouse. We'll be needin' a place to sleep tonight. Roscoe," he added wearily, "I could use a cup of coffee."
The men went to do as they were told, all but Noah. "What about him?" Noah asked, jerking his chin in Blue Hawk's direction.
"I'll look after him," Shaun said. "He's not going anywhere."
The next few hours were busy ones. Kaylee treated Blue Hawk's burns, weeping softly as she bandaged his forearms and his right hand. Roscoe put on a pot of coffee and fixed a big breakfast. Shaun caught a little shut-eye, exhausted from his efforts and his already weakened condition. Emma and Kaylee began the dreary task of sorting through the wreckage of the house looking for anything they could salvage. Several hands were doing the same in the barn, dragging saddles out that were burned almost beyond recognition. Shortly before noon, Hobie and Tyler rode in, herding the horses they had rounded up.
And then the sheriff arrived.