Brides of the West (18 page)

Her eyes searched the darkened corners of the
barn, looking for anything she might use as a weapon. Hoping to buy
time, she added, "My husband will return shortly. You’d better
leave before he arrives."

Garrick laughed. “Your husband won’t be
returning tonight or any other night for that matter. I shot him on
the road tonight.”

It was a lie! In her rage, she grabbed a hay
fork and jabbed at him. He ducked. "Get off my property, Garrick!”
She stabbed at him again. "Wolf will kill you when he learns you've
come here!"

Garrick grabbed the handle, wrenching it away
from her. He tossed it aside, then backhanded her, sending her
stumbling backward against the wall. “Did you not hear me
correctly, you stupid little bitch? I shot your husband and left
him to die.”

He stormed toward her, seized her shoulders
and shook her violently. “You cost me everything in Savannah—my
ministry, my orphanage. Because of you I had to fake my death so
you wouldn’t ruin me. Now, one year later, I still have nothing. So
I’ve come to collect what belongs to me—including my dear little
wife.”

“But you were buried...your estate settled. I
thought you were dead. We all did. I waited an appropriate mourning
time before deciding to remarry. You cannot come back and make
demands on me. I am Gray Wolf’s wife, now.”

“You mean Gray Wolf’s widow.” He smiled
coldly. “With your husband dead, you’re free to marry again. As
your new husband named
Mr. Jackson
, I’ll take control of the
property. I will prosper again, Evangeline, and this time you’re
going to help me!”

At that moment it would have been so easy to
give in to defeat and accept that Garrick had killed Wolf, but she
couldn’t. She must fight to keep control of her emotions. He
squeezed her shoulders so tightly she feared he’d crush them.

“You wrote the letters didn’t you, Garrick?”
She tried not to sound nervous.

“And they frightened you all the way to Texas
and into the arms of another man.” He shook her violently. “I took
you in when no other man would have you. I fed and clothed and
schooled your illegitimate child. And what did you do? Donate my
house to charity and return to that Indian lover of yours! No, you
owe me, Evangeline.”

“I owe you nothing. My father paid you to
marry me. I didn’t want to, but what choice did I have? He wouldn’t
allow me to return home.” She shrugged free of his bruising grip.
“I told no one your filthy deeds—even after your supposed death. I
thought with your demise that would be the end of your dark secret,
that Mac could heal and we’d both be free again.”

“Lying bitch! You kept silent because you
didn’t want to be implicated in my murder!”

“I did nothing to you. Mac did nothing.”

“You protected your housemaid. Your silence
implicates you in a murder plot against me to obtain my money.”

Oh, the bastard had some nerve suggesting
such a thing! True, Nell had struck him and pushed him down the
stairs, but she’d only been defending Evangeline. She’d certainly
not prospered off his death as he’d left her with many unpaid
debts. No, this despicable piece of filth had faked his own death
to avoid being exposed as a child molester. He was a murderer also
now if her instincts were on target. “I didn’t want Mac scandalized
after what you tried to do to him. That’s one of the reasons I
remained silent—not to protect myself in any manner.”

“As if anyone would have believed you—a whore
and her bastard child. Or would they have believed that darkie maid
of yours? Who would they have believed, Evangeline, you or me?”

“Your words no longer hurt or shame me,
Garrick. I am not a whore and Mac was never a bastard. True, he
might have been born out of wedlock, but he was conceived in love.
Now where is my husband? What have you done to Wolf and Mac?”

"The boy is perfectly fine, but I’m afraid
your dear husband is dead, Evangeline.”

In an instant, her world crashed. Wolf
couldn’t be dead! He couldn't! "You're a liar!" she screamed,
beating her fists into his chest.

He reeled back. "Am I? Then tell me if any of
these items look familiar." Reaching inside his coat pocket, he
withdrew Wolf's pistol.

"You stole the gun!”

Then he pulled out the necklace, the one made
of turquoise beads and white shells. Wolf wore it at all times—the
only keepsake he had of his mother. He never would have surrendered
it.

She lunged at him, delivering a blow to his
groin with her knee. He went down with a string of curses as she
shot from the barn. He was close on her heels as she sailed toward
the house. Wolf kept a loaded rifle propped behind the door and she
prayed she could reach it in time. She also hoped he'd left an
extra box of ammunition handy, because she was going to blow so
many holes in Garrick Payne that no undertaker would ever be able
to count all of them.

Garrick tackled her, knocking her to the
ground.

"It’s time I teach you a lesson you’ll never
forget.”

He dragged her by one leg across the yard to
the barn. Sharp stones bruised her body. She bucked and thrashed,
her skirt and petticoats bunching up around her face where she
could no longer see. At the very least he was going to beat her,
but she knew he wouldn't kill her because he needed her alive if he
wanted to gain control of Wolf’s ranch. As much as she wanted to
fight him, she knew his strength. She’d been beaten many times by
him and managed to survive each one. She would survive whatever he
did to her now

He flung her into a stall. On her hands and
knees, she lifted her head and looked up at him. Before, she’d
always feared his wrath, viewing him as a powerful and violent
force from whom she dared not try to escape. Now she saw him as he
truly was—a weak and desperate man who enjoyed bullying women and
children into submission. He was nothing in that instant—not the
powerful, indomitable Reverend Garrick Payne of Savannah. He was a
mouse of a man with a deep perversity that rotted his soul from the
inside out.

She attempted to stand, to face her
tormentor, but he kicked her legs out from beneath her. She fell
upon the clean straw, her shins smarting from the blow. Gritting
her teeth, she held back tears, not wanting to give him the
satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"When I get through, you’ll damned well know
you belong to me." A feral gleam lit his eyes as he produced a
riding crop. "Remove your clothes, you little tramp. It’s been a
long time since I’ve been forced to discipline you.”

“Don’t you mean abuse me, Garrick?”

He leaned over and slapped her face. "Take
the goddamned clothes off or I'll slice them from your body!”

"Go to hell! You'll have to kill me before I
let you beat me."

Garrick laughed. "Is that so? Would you
prefer I whip your son, instead?" He stormed off to a neighboring
stall and yanked a canvas tarp off a small heap, revealing Mac.
Grabbing the child by his shirt collar, he yanked the boy to his
feet and roughly dragged him back to her. Mac swayed unsteadily on
his feet, his eyes half closed.

“Mac!” What was wrong with him? Garrick
pushed him down onto the hay and raised the riding crop again.

Evangeline’s heart leapt in her chest. She
flung herself over Mac’s form, crying out as the first blow stung
through the fabric of her dress.

She dared to lift her head. “Let him go,
Garrick!” she pleaded. “Do as you wish to me, but don’t harm my
son!”

He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her
into another stall. She watched as he returned and yanked Mac to
his feet and shoved the sleepy-eyed youngster away. "Get the hell
out of the barn and don't come back unless I call for you!”

“I won’t let you beat her!” Mac cried,
staggering toward the man. “You leave her alone, you stupid
asshole!” Garrick backhanded the boy, sending him sprawling on the
hay.

“Mac!” Evangeline pushed past, but Garrick
yanked her back by one arm and shoved her into the stall again. He
drew a knife from his boot.

“I’ll slit the little bastard’s throat if he
interferes!”

“Mac, run! Run to the house and lock the
door.”

With much difficulty, Mac staggered to his
feet and took off running toward the open barn door.

Garrick turned her around and shoved her down
on her hands and knees. He reached down and tore open the back of
her dress. She stiffened, awaiting the slap of the whip, praying
Mac might have time to escape or hide. Then her fingers curled
around something cold and metallic in the straw. Wolf’s missing
knife. Her heartbeat thundered wildly in her chest. She concealed
it in the folds of her skirt
.

“This land and the house on it will be mine,
Evangeline.” Garrick raged on as she opened the knife. “With Gray
Wolf MacKinnon dead, you are free to remarry. I will assume another
man’s identity—Mr. Jackson as I’ve been using this past year—and
you will keep silent of this. You owe me for all you have taken
from me.”

Her body trembling, Evangeline turned slowly,
her eyes lifting to meet his. “And what about what you’ve taken
from me, Garrick, or from Mac, an innocent child? I didn’t hit you
in the head with the iron. Nor did I shove you down the stairs.
Nell was only protecting us. No, Garrick. I owe you nothing, and
even if Wolf is dead as you claim, I’ll not marry you. I’ll not
allow you to spend one moment on my land, in my house or in my bed,
abusing me or my son ever again. I will expose you for the sick,
indecent bastard you really are and you will be hanged for Wolf’s
murder.”

With every ounce of strength she possessed
she stood, keeping the knife hidden within the folds of her skirt.
Her legs trembled and her heart pounded out a near deafening tempo
in her ears. His expression was fierce, his face drawn, teeth
clenched. “You are finished, Garrick Payne!” she shouted and thrust
forth the knife.

The crack of a rifle split the silence of the
barn. Evangeline screamed, tossed the knife aside and fell back on
the hay at the deafening blast, then lay perfectly still. Garrick’s
lifeless body fell on top of her.

She lay numb beneath Garrick’s dead weight.
Silence settled over the barn. After a moment, she squirmed and
wriggled from beneath him, then scrambled to her feet expecting to
see her savior in the open doorway. No one was there. Something
warm and wet in her hair caught her attention and she panicked. At
first she feared she’d been shot, too. Then she realized it was
Garrick's blood and not hers. Trembling hard, she took a few wobbly
steps, her knees barely supporting her. She had to find Mac, to
make certain he was all right. She dared a glance back at Garrick
who lay face down on the bloody hay. Most of the top of his head
was gone. Her stomach turned at the sight and she leaned over and
vomited. From outside, John called her.

"I’m in the barn!" She wiped her mouth with
the back of her hand.

John appeared in the doorway, lantern in
hand. He froze when he saw her. "Godamighty!" He hurried to her.
"Your head's bleeding.” He tilted her head toward the lantern light
to look at it. “Are you injured anywhere else?”

"It's Garrick's blood." Numbly, she stood
shaking all over, staring at John’s Adam's apple while he examined
her head. The back of her dress was open, her bare shoulders
exposed. But after all she'd been through she was too numb to care
about modesty. Then John looked beyond her to Garrick’s body and
swore softly under his breath. He whisked off his vest and draped
it around her shoulders.

"You saved my life, John.”

John shook his head. "No, ma'am, I didn't
shoot him. That husband of yours managed to get off that shot even
as he stood in the barn door, swaying and bleeding and about to
collapse. I was just lucky enough to ride up in time and witness
every bit of it."

Her heart soared with hope.

Wolf was alive!

Tears of joy flooded her eyes. "Garrick told
me he was dead."

"He’s not dead, but he's shot up pretty bad,
ma’am. I’m going to need your help getting the bullets out of him—a
sharp knife, some scissors and clean bandage material. You sure
you're all right?” He stopped in front of her and lifted her face
to his, then grimaced. "Your face is bruised."

"Garrick struck me, but I'll be fine.” She
clutched his arm as they made their way toward the house. “Tell me
what happened to Wolf? How serious are his injuries? Where’s
Mac?"

"Mac is fine," he assured her as they hurried
to the door. "The little rascal’s shaken up, but otherwise he says
he’s okay. Said that Payne fellow made him drink something that
made him sleepy.” He assisted her up the steps.

“I'll get the water kettle on to boil,
John.”

"From what I've been able to get out of
Wolf,” John said as he opened the door, “Payne ambushed him on the
road about two miles north of here. He put three bullets in Wolf
and left him for dead. How he did it, I'll never know, but your man
made his way home on foot.”

Evangeline rushed past John to where Wolf lay
on his back in the middle of the floor.

“I rode up and saw Mac runnin’ toward his Pa
with the shotgun, hollerin’ that you were in the barn with Payne.
Wolf fired once, staggered a few feet and collapsed He’s lost a lot
of blood. We need to get him onto the bed and get them bullets out
or I expect he might not make it ‘til morning."

It was no easy task lifting a man of Wolf’s
size, but between the three of them they managed to heft him onto
the mattress. John was right. Wolf had three wounds—one in his left
side, another in his right forearm and one in the upper thigh.
Fortunately the bleeding had slowed, but she’d never seen Wolf so
pale and lifeless. She feared the worst. There was no time to send
for a doctor. With her and Mac’s help, John assured her he could
remove the bullets. After that, they could only hope for the
best.