Love on the Range (Brothers in Arms #3)(58)

Wyatt wondered how long Randall had been awake. And he wondered how good a liar he was. Good enough to talk his way out of that jail cell by turning on his brother? “Why’d you shoot Rachel?”

Randall’s eyes came to Wyatt. Cold eyes. The same golden brown as his. Only Randall’s were cold as the grave.

“Oliver told me she’d shot you. And tried to kill him. He’d heard she was back around.”

“How’d he hear? She slipped in at night and stayed to the house.”

Randall’s jaw tightened. “We have someone who keeps an eye out at your place. Youngster named Jesse.”

Cheyenne and Wyatt had matching expressions of rage.

“He looks in the windows when he can. He saw her. Heard your plan to ride to White Rock Station and the trail you’d use. Jesse told Oliver. Oliver told me she was coming back to kill him. I set out to stop her.”

“We’ve got a hand we need to fire.” Cheyenne’s voice could out-cold Randall’s eyes any day of the week.

“I’m glad you survived it, Miss Rachel. I know a few other things, but I’m not saying another word until I’m sure I’m not going to hang for what I done. And I don’t want to spend any more time in a cell.”

Wyatt looked around the group. A lot of purely suspicious expressions in this room. None of them believed Randall was all that innocent.

“What’s more . . . I know . . . well, no.” Randall’s eyes went flinty. “I’m not saying another word. Except you’re going to need my help, and you’re not going to get it unless I can walk free from this jail cell.” Randall glared at Sheriff Gatlin for a long minute, then he turned sideways to lie down on the cot.

Despite questions, he refused to say another word.





Twenty-Five




They didn’t all go charging out to the Hawkins Ranch.

Molly had to go because she knew exactly where the safe was. Win stayed behind because she couldn’t stand to be part of it. Kevin stayed behind because he couldn’t leave Win alone and unprotected, and he didn’t count Sheriff Gatlin, who stayed behind to guard Kingston and protect Win. Rachel stayed because the ride to town had worn her out.

Wyatt knew exactly how many hands were working out there, and the caliber of men they were. He’d assured everyone there’d be no shooting trouble from the cowhands. They were too lazy to fight for the brand. None from Hawkins, either, unless there was a chance to do some back-shooting.

Molly bent low over the saddle, the horse’s hooves pounding as they galloped at full speed. Wyatt had gained the lead because he had a fine stallion to ride, McCall right with him, but the rest of them were close behind. Everyone wanted to be a part of bringing Hawkins to justice.

He was a killer. That’s what his older brother had called him.

“I was a thief. Clovis a liar and a cheat. Oliver a killer.”

Kingston had said that. And he’d been so calm about it. “I was a thief.” A hard thing to say about yourself, especially when you want to get out of jail. But compared to being a killer, he probably thought it sounded decent. Even knowing he’d shot Rachel—and there she’d stood, looking him in the eye—the man thought he had something they’d bargain for.

“Clovis a liar and a cheat.” Well, seeing as how three brothers had lived a life created through Clovis’s lying and cheating, they had to agree with that description.

“Oliver a killer.” Those words had come out as if it was a childhood chant that he’d known all his life.

Thief, cheat, killer. A dark legacy for one family to dole out into the world.

Molly wondered what Kingston had meant by “you’re going to need my help.” What did that man know?

Even as they galloped toward the Hawkins Ranch, Molly felt like they were too late. Kingston had an ominous attitude, as if he was sure they didn’t know everything.

“Be on the lookout for someone shooting from cover,” Wyatt shouted. “That’d be Hawkins’s way.”

Wyatt and Falcon rode side by side. They were busy, looking at any spot where boulders and woodlands came close to the trail. Molly smelled dirt from the trail and the cold damp of snow, kicked up by the horses in front of her. They rode southeast away from town, and the wind kicked swirls of snow across the trail. Wind bit at her cheeks, and they felt pink and chapped.

Despite the cold and their terrible mission, it was a day of breathtaking beauty. The mountains rose up before them, and the sun, fully risen but still low in the eastern sky, painted snowcapped mountains in shades of orange and pink, against a sky so blue it made her heart ache.

A magnificent land, Wyoming Territory. One she’d like to have for a home. If they could just get all the danger settled. Not counting blizzards, of course. Or cattle stampedes or rattlesnake bites. But those she’d face. It was the danger that came from evil men targeting her family that she wanted to end.

With the thundering hoofbeats as the music to drive them along, she thought of secrets from her own past and urged more speed from her horse, as if running away from the truth. She heightened her vigilance, looking all around for danger. She’d ridden to the Hawkins Ranch from the RHR when she’d gone there to work. She’d never ridden there from town. She knew nothing of the dangerous parts of this trail, so all she could do was keep her eyes open, keep up, and keep praying.