Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1) (39 page)

The violence hadn’t been something
she’d expected or envisioned. Fear had rocked her and she was
exhausted, that was all. Looking over at the man she now called
husband lying so still in the bed, she trembled with loneliness.
Brannon had attacked them in broad daylight. From all accounts, the
Texas Rangers were highly respected lawmen. So why had Brannon
pulled a gun on Seth rather than taking him in for questioning or
something. It didn’t add up. The Ranger had called him out. Is that
how they settled things here in Texas? Logically, it shouldn’t have
escalated to that point. But it had. No, things didn’t add up and
until she got some answers, she wasn’t letting Seth out of her
sight. Not only would she see to it, but she would make it her
personal mission to protect her husband at all costs. The law be
damned, she vowed.

Almost losing him, again, had brought
her full circle. Celia could now see clearly how she had to take
charge of her own life, her new life here in Texas, and make her
own decisions. Hopefully, soon, she would have the chance to
explain her feelings to him, but in the meantime she was in
charge.

***

Celia asked Charles to send someone to
the Shooter Creek. Jake and the men had arrived quickly and a guard
had sat outside all the entrances to the hotel. Night had fallen on
the second day and she glanced down at the fires that burned in the
streets surrounding the hotel. Set by the ranch hands as much in
vigil as to protect those working inside, she was comforted, and
somehow bolstered by their light. They’d erected a small fortress
around the hotel and had gone so far as to check each guest
entering or leaving the establishment since the shoot-out. She’d
seen the somber faces of Jake, Shorty, and the others as they’d
come to pay their respects. Their presence gave Celia the support
she needed.

***

Jake spat chewing tobacco onto the
ground. The fire’s flames flickered in a frantic dance over his
weathered face. From under his Stetson, Jake eyed each man
individually. “Charles said Seth was protecting Celia. Said Brannon
came up demanding that he turn her over to him. Told them, he was
taking her to scout for Red Bear.” The foreman paused to spit into
the fire. He stared hard into the flames as the spewing died
down.

“
Somethin’ ain’t right,
Jake.” Shorty peered at his old friend. “Rangers are supposed to
have a code they go by. This don’t sound like part of that there
code when a man pulls a gun on another in a shoot-out. There was no
cause. It just ain’t right.” Scratching his beard, Shorty scanned
those who’d ridden in to form a posy once they had enough
light.

“
I know. Cole’s concerned
but not doing anything about it. That means it’s up to
us.”

“
And why is
that?”

“
What do you mean?” Jake
scowled at Shorty.

“
I mean, why ain’t Cole
forming a posy and getting ready to ride after these sons-a-bitches
himself?”

“
Said he’s got to send a
wire or some such bullshit to verify the vermin is really
Brannon.”

“
Really Brannon?” Shorty’s
white eyebrows shot up. “Well, hell, who else would he be?”
Shorty’s baffled expression said he hadn’t considered anything
else.

The foreman considered the fire a
moment. “Cole’s no fool. He smells a rat. Just got to go by the
book is all.” Jake glanced up. “But us – we ain’t got to go by
nothing, but what’s right.” He spit again into the flames and made
them sizzle. “Time’s wasting. Tell the men to get their gear
together. I’m gonna check on Celia. Be ready to ride when I get
back.”

***

Celia glanced at the old grandfather
clock in the corner. Time, there was so much time now, she mused.
It seemed so long ago when she’d directed the men to deposit her
husband in the big four-poster bed. When she’d extracted the bullet
and staunched the bleeding. When she’d stitched him up and silently
prayed he would wake up. Jake stood next to the bed telling her she
was in charge.

“
We gotta do what we can.
Time’s a wastin’.” Jake settled near her on the edge of the bed as
he cleaned and oiled Seth’s gun in the shadowed light of the oil
lamp. “Remember how to use this, right?”

Celia nodded. “You taught me well,
Jake. I haven’t forgotten all the patience and tin cans we went
through.”

He grinned. “You were a good student.
Probably got yourself one of them derringers you keep in your
reticule, don’t cha’?”

She flashed him a quick, thin grin.
“Well of course. My instructor told me a lady must always be
prepared.”

Jake’s weathered face broke into a
smile. Giving her a wink, he took her teasing in stride. “Don’t go
reminding me of my own words, girl. I know what I said.” Laying the
gun on the nightstand, he turned to her and patted her leg, “Just
wanted to know if you remembered them too.”

Reaching out, Celia took Jake’s hand in
hers and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “You were my protector all
those years ago and I never got the chance to thank you. I never
forgot, though.”

His eyes traced the contours of her
face and he gave her a grunt in reply. “You were in a tight spot.
It was the proper thing to do.”

“
Proper knows when to offer
assistance to a lady disembarking from a carriage. You went past
proper. Stepping up like you did to save me. Without thought for
your job or your life, Jake, that’s not proper, that’s selfless and
courageous. I never got a chance to thank you, Jake.”

“
You’re welcome, girl. Glad
I was able.” He paused and considered their joined hands. “Does he
know the real reason you left?”

The smile slipped from her face. “No.”
Her lashes cast shadows over the trouble in her eyes. “I haven’t
been able to tell him yet.”

Jake let out a muffled whistle. “You
married the man and didn’t explain why you had to leave and break
his heart?”

With a mutinous set to her lips, she
didn’t meet Jake’s gaze. “I…didn’t break his heart. He broke mine.
I never heard from him after I left, well, except for my letters
that were returned.” Her laugh was brittle. “I’ve done one better,
Jake. I accused him of breaking my heart. How was I to know his
father would block my attempts at contacting him?” Looking woefully
at the bed, she shook her head. “And, now, well, we…we haven’t had
a chance to talk about it.” Her lashes came up and she gave him a
fleeting look mired in guilt. “Things are complicated.”

“
Don’t you think it’s time
you uncomplicated them and set the record straight, Celia.” His
paternal tone weighted the air between them.

“
I know you’re right.”
Looking out at the ever-decreasing light as the sun disappeared
over the horizon, she nodded in agreement. “It’s past time.”
Smiling once more for her old friend, Celia nodded. “Don’t worry, I
will – as soon as he wakes.”

Jake gave her forehead a kiss and
headed out.

***

Celia leaned back in an oversized
armchair that sat by his bed. When it was clear that she wouldn’t
leave his side, the larger overstuffed chair had replaced the
brocade parlor chair. Jake and the men had left an hour before. She
and Maggie along with Joseph, Casey and a guard were all that
remained to watch out for Seth.

His pale, bandaged face showed signs of
bluing where the bullet had nicked his temple. His pulse was weak.
There had been a lot of blood. How much he had lost due to the
wound she could say. Now he was running a fever. Until it broke, he
wasn’t out of the woods. Even then, there was no telling what
condition he would wake up in, if he woke at all.

Exhaustion had her slumping back in the
chair, her fear taking its toll. Had she been able to remove the
bullet with the proper instruments, with the proper antiseptic she
would have rested easier? Was it enough? Would he pull
through?

Relying on what she’d been taught,
she’d performed the removal of a bullet from a man’s scalp. Thank
goodness it hadn’t lodged in his skull. That would’ve been like a
death sentence. Doc Wheeler had observed as she removed the lead.
Celia opened her eyes, watching as he slept. His brain, bruised,
needed time to heal. Time – he needed time. She said a silent
prayer for them both.

***

Horses! Galloping, chasing her! The
sound of hoofs pounding on hard packed earth grew louder. She had
to run! Then the sound of Ty’s voice stopped her. Turning she
looked at her brother-in-law. “Where are you going,
Celia?”

She opened her eyes. Blinking, she took
in the room. Seth rested in the great four-poster with a light
sheen of perspiration covering his brow. The horses were gone.
Getting up, she realized she’d been dreaming, but when she
continued to hear Ty’s voice, she searched the room. No one else
was there. Moving to the balcony, she looked down and saw Sheriff
Cole surrounded by a group of men. The sheriff dismounted and spoke
to Charles. Their voices were low but she could see the tension in
their faces. It was impolite to eavesdrop so she decided to go down
and find out exactly what was going on for herself. Placing another
cool cloth on her husband’s brow, she checked his pulse before
going downstairs.

“
The word we got was that
Brannon’s in Mexico taking custody of a group of prisoners.” Cole
addressed Ty and the others.

“
Well how could he be in two
places at once?” Gawkers had moved in to get a better listen. One
of them interjected at that point.

Sherriff Cole scowled at the drunken
miner as well as the others who’d gathered. “You people go on about
your business.” He looked then toward Ty, Charles and Celia, who’d
slipped out the front doorway and now stood beside her
brother-in-law. Reaching out, he offered her his arm and turned
with a nod for the others to follow them to the jailhouse. Briskly,
crossing the street, he took them back into his office, shutting
the door behind them soundly.

With eyes serious as could be, Cole
surveyed the small group. “We’ll have to send a wire to Austin to
find out exactly where the Ranger went. If he was, in fact, in
Mexico during the gunfight, then we could have an even bigger
problem on our hands.” Cole glanced out the window of his cramped
quarters before turning to sit in his desk chair. Pausing, he
leaned back in his chair and slipped his thumbs in his watch
pockets, “An imposter.”

Celia stepped forward. “Sheriff
Cole?”

“
Yes, ma’am,” Cole offered
her a benign face.

“
Are you saying that the man
who shot my husband isn’t a Texas Ranger?”

“
That’s what we’re checking
on. The authorities in Austin will send a physical description of
Brannon. When that comes in over the wire and the proof of
Brannon’s location during the time in question is verified, we’ll
know who we’re dealing with.”

Celia looked then at the Sheriff.
“Texas Ranger or not, Brannon shot my husband in the middle of your
town without provocation. Isn’t gun-fighting illegal? Why haven’t
you already gone after him?”

Sherriff Cole absorbed her expression
of disbelief with a benign expression. Sidestepping her concern
over his procedures, he effectively ignored her by changing the
subject. “I’d like to speak to you, Mrs. Loflin, about the man that
you had words within the mercantile the other day.”

“
How did you know about
that?”

“
I have my ways. You got a
good look at him, didn’t you?”

“
Yes, I did, but I don’t
understand. If the man that shot Seth wasn’t Brannon, then who is
he? You still haven’t answered my question. What difference does it
make whether he’s a Texas Ranger or not. He gunned down a man in
your town.”

“
That’s what we need to find
out. If he’s impersonating a Texas Ranger, he’ll hang.”

Fire leapt into her eyes. “What will
happen to him if he is a Texas Ranger? Nothing,” Her tone was
accusing.

Cole didn’t defend his actions.
Instead, he turned to Charles. “I’ll need volunteers for a
posse.”

Anger surged through her at the
dismissal. There would be no justice here, not for her or
Seth.

She gritted her teeth, before whirling
to leave. A good slam of the door punctuated her exit. The gunfight
had happened so quick there had been no time to consider right and
wrong. She understood completely, now, why Jake and the men had
slipped out early that morning. Something was clouding the
Sheriff’s judgment and she didn’t like it. Not one little bit.
Justice needed serving and she knew how.

Climbing the stairs to the room, Celia
considered the possibilities. Leaning against the door to the
honeymoon suite, she closed her eyes. The possibility that the
shooter wasn’t who he pretended to be didn’t change the fact that
he’d tried to kill Seth, but why – to take her? It made sense.
Hadn’t Brannon been yelling about her being government propriety?
Rumors apparently ran rampant regarding Brannon’s involvement with
slave trading and Indian women. So Seth had tried to warn her. She
needed to take heed. Somehow, she would have to prove it. Her eyes
adjusted to the dim light of her husband’s sickroom as she walked
over to stand beside his bed once more.