Keegan's Lady (57 page)

What she understood was that those men out there had come here to do him ill. She didn't have to step out there and hear what they had to say to know that. "Foolish pride won't protect you. Not from a man like Beiler."

"Call it foolish if you want, but without his pride, what does a man have?"

He cracked the door. To Caitlin, the creak of the hinges was an ominous sound, a prelude to disaster. She was shaking. Shaking horribly. Not with fear for herself, but fear for him. He threw her one last glance before opening the door all the way. "If anything does happen," he said softly, "you stay with Joseph. Do you understand me, Caitlin? He'll take care of you."

Her gaze clung to his. He knew. She could see it in his eyes. He sensed it as well—that something awful was about to happen, that those men out there had come to lake him away. "Ace ... I love you."

He smiled slightly. That wonderful, crooked smile. "I know you do. Promise me? That you'll stay with Joseph. I know he'll take good care of you."

This was insane. Caitlin wanted to grab him by the arm and jerk him back inside. She wanted to bolt the door. Make him listen to her. Convince him to run. But if he did that, he wouldn't be the man she loved. There was none of the coward in him. He could no more hightail it than he could stop breathing.

"I promise," she whispered.

He gave a slight nod. "My brothers . . . they're your family now. Don't forget that."

"I won't."

He turned then. Straightened his shoulders. Took a deep breath. Caitlin realized in that moment that he was as scared as she was. As he drew the door open and stepped out onto the porch, her mind filled with silent cries of protest she couldn't voice, wouldn't voice, because being his woman demanded that she be as strong as he was.

As the door swung shut, she went to stand at the window so she might watch and listen to what Beiler had to say. Ace moved to stand beside Joseph. There was nothing in his stance to indicate he was the least bit shaken by this unexpected visit or that he felt threatened by the presence of so many armed men.

"Marshal," he said, his voice pitched low, his tone questioning. "What brings you clear out this way?"

Beiler's face twisted into a sneer. "What brings me out this way? As if you don't know." He studied Ace's face for a moment. "Patrick O'Shannessy was in town yesterday morning. Told anyone who wanted to listen that you and him had a hell of a set-to the morning before and that he beat the daylights out of you. Judging by those bruises, I'd say he was telling the truth."

Ace inclined his dark head. "That's right. We had a confrontation of sorts."

"And you got the worst end of it."

Again Ace nodded. Caitlin felt so proud of him. Most men would have rushed on to explain why they'd gotten the worst end of it. Ace just let it ride. He knew the truth; evidently that was enough for him.

"Where were you this morning?" Beiler asked.

Ace rubbed his slightly swollen his nose. "I went out to ride fence line with my brothers."

"Were you with them the entire time?"

Ace hesitated before replying, "No, not the entire time. Why do you ask?"

Caitlin's heart began to pound.

"The time when you weren't with your brothers ..." Beiler shifted his rifle in his arms. "How long, would you say, were you apart from them?"

"An hour, maybe two. I didn't keep track."

Bciler's eyes began to glitter. "So you would have had lime to ride over to the O'Shannessy place this morning?"

"I would have had time, yes."

The marshal smiled. "I'd venture a guess you not only bad lime to do so, but that you did."

Ace started to speak, but Beiler cut him short. “There's no sense lying about it. Cruise Dublin saw you riding away from the O'Shannessy place. You were there."

"I have no intention of lying. I went over to see Patrick this morning. What of it? For my wife's sake, I hoped mat he and I could settle our differences. As it happened, he wasn't around, so I left."

"It's a little hard to talk to a man when he's been shot in the back, ain't it?"

Caitlin felt as if her legs had turned to water. Patrick. She dug her nails into the window sill. Oh, dear God . . .

"Shot in the back?" Ace repeated slowly. "Patrick O’Shannessy?"

"Don't bother to play innocent with me," Beiler said with a snort. "There's bad blood between you and O'Shannessy. Has been since you first came back here. Everyone knows it."

Ace gave a low, incredulous laugh. "Are you accusing me of shooting my brother-in-law in the back?"

Caitlin gave a low, agonized cry. She couldn't help it. Her brother. Her baby brother. For all that he'd done, she still loved him. Oh, God, was he dead? Was that what Beiler was saying? That her brother had been murdered?

Ace heard her cry and turned back toward the house. Beiler yelled, stopping him dead. "Oh, no, you don't. You stay right where you are. you back-shooting son of a bitch."

"My wife is in there. She needs me right now. Patrick is her brother, in case you've forgotten. That was a hell of a way to deliver such terrible news!"

There was no mistaking the cold fury in Ace's voice or the venom in Beiler's expression.

"She turned her back on her brother when she became your wife," the marshal said. "I doubt she's all that shaken up."

Ace stood on the porch, clearly afraid to make a move yet longing to come inside to be with her. Caitlin stared at him through the glass, holding her breath to keep from sobbing, afraid that if she made so much as another sound, he would risk getting shot to come to her.

"I wanna see your rifle," Beiler said. "Where is it?"

Ace jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the house. "Over the fireplace."

Beiler glanced at Joseph. "Go get it, mister. And no funny business. My deputies here have been instructed to shoot first and ask questions later."

Joseph curled a lip as he turned toward the door. "Marshals like you always shoot first and ask questions later, Beiler. It keeps your jails from getting crowded."

As he stepped inside, Joseph paused to look deeply into Caitlin's eyes. "I'm sorry about your brother, sis."

Sis? The word seemed to have slipped from him without thought. She could also tell by the ache in his eyes that he truly did feel awful about what had happened to Patrick. That he would spare a thought for that, or for her feelings, when his own brother was being accused of the foul deed told Caitlin more than a hundred pretty speeches could have. She couldn't speak; for the tears that were dammed up in her throat, so she merely nodded.

Joseph stepped over to the fireplace to retrieve Ace's Henry from the rifle rack. As he turned back toward her, he once again met her gaze. "Ace is no angel. I won't claim he is. But one thing he'd never do is shoot a man when his back was turned. No matter what Beiler has to say, I hope you'll remember that."

Again, Caitlin could only nod. She knew Joseph was warning her. If she let her faith in Ace be shaken a second time, if she turned her back on him again, it might do irreparable damage to their marriage.

Hefting the rifle in his hands, Joseph strode back to the door, the heels of his dusty boots tapping out a brisk tattoo on the varnished floor. At the door, he paused for a second, glanced her way, and winked. Caitlin knew he was trying to tell her not to be afraid, that one way or another, they would get through this.

Beiler moved up onto the steps to take the rifle when Joseph exited the house. Holding the Henry in one hand, the marshal took a long, slow sniff of the weapon's carrel, his gaze fixed on Ace. "This gun has been fired recently."

Caitlin saw Ace's back stiffen. "That's right. When I was out riding fences this morning, I saw a coyote after one of my calves. I shot it. There's no law against that, is there?"

Beiler's smirk spoke volumes as he returned the Henry to Joseph. "You're under arrest, Keegan. For the murder of Patrick O'Shannessy."

One of Beiler's riders straightened in the saddle. "He ain't dead yet, Marshal. The charge is only attempted murder until he dies, ain't it?"

At that news, Ace took a step toward Beiler, his stance threatening. "You heartless bastard! He isn't dead? How dare you let on he was. Have you no concern at all for my wife's feelings?"

Beiler flashed a cold smile. "You mad because you think maybe I upset her without cause? Or because Patrick isn't dead yet and might be able to identify his murderer before he dies?"

Ace's hands knotted into fists. Caitlin knew that if it hadn't been for all the rifles trained on him, he would have shoved the question back down Beiler's throat. "I wish to God he could identify the shooter, because it sure as hell wasn't me."

"We'll let you sing that song to a judge." Beiler jerked a pair of handcuffs off his belt. "You're going to jail, Mr. Keegan."

"Oh, no, he isn't," Joseph said softly, his hand hovering over his gun.

At the end of the porch, David and Esa assumed shooting stances as well. Joseph inclined his head at Beiler. "The last time you got your hands on one of ours, you hung him without a fair hearing. I'm not letting you take my brother anywhere."

"Joseph," Ace said softly, "stay out of this."

"No, goddammit! I won't stand by and let history repeat itself. You're a worm, Beiler! The lowest kind of worm."

Fifteen rifle barrels swung toward Joseph. He spread his feet, his gun hand still hovering over his holster. "Go ahead, you bastard. Give them the signal to shoot. I'll go down, sure as shit, but I'll take your miserable ass with me. They can't kill me fast enough to stop me from getting off at least two shots. I'll put them both right between your beady little eyes."

Beiler's cowardice started to show. His face drained of color, and his eyes began to dart from side to side, as if he were looking for an escape route. There was none. After a moment, he said, "If he goes for his gun, gentlemen, shoot the girl."

All the rifles shifted aim. Caitlin found herself staring out the glass at fifteen barrels.

"You miserable son of a bitch," Ace said acidly.

Beiler held up the cuffs. Ace stood there for a second, then moved down the steps, his wrists thrust forward. Beiler cuffed him, then jerked him roughly out into the yard. "Hamilton, Petrie, Hobbs! Cuff the brothers. We're hauling them all in!"

"On what charge?" Joseph cried.

"Interfering with a law officer! Ain't no way I'm gonna have any trouble out of you boys over this. With your butts cooling in the hoosegow, I won't have to worry none, now will I?"

Caitlin couldn't believe her ears. Beiler meant to arrest them all? Forgetting her promise to Ace, she ran outside onto the porch. "No! Marshal Beiler, please! They didn't do anything!"

Three of Beiler's men dismounted and moved toward Ace's brothers. As Hamilton came up onto the porch, Joseph glanced at all the rifles, then at Caitlin. In the end, he held out his hands, allowing himself to be cuffed. David and Esa followed suit. The minute all three Paxtons had their hands safely bound, Beiler motioned for them to be disarmed. The rotund marshal removed Ace's gun from its holster himself.

"You boys don't look quite so fearsome without your side arms, now do you?"

"You can't do this!" Caitlin cried. "You can't just arrest people when they've done nothing wrong! I'm a witness. They did nothing. Absolutely nothing!"

Ace spoke up. "At least leave one of the boys here, Heiler. No woman should be left alone on a ranch this far from town. Her brother's just been shot, for Christ's sake. She needs someone to stay with her!"

"She made her bed." Beiler gave Ace a vicious shove, nearly knocking him off his feet. "Mount up behind Morgan. And shut your trap. When I want to hear more out of you, I'll let you know."

Morgan moved his horse forward and leaned sideways in the saddle to grasp the short length of chain between Ace's wrists. Removing his foot from the stirrup, the rancher gave his prisoner only time enough to get a foothold before he jerked him upward. Ace winced at the rough treatment, but managed to swing up a leg and settle himself on the horse behind the shorter man. His dark gaze sought Caitlin's.

"I know this looks bad, but I didn't shoot him," he called. "I swear it, Caitlin. You have to believe that. I went over there this morning to try to talk to Patrick. That's all. When I didn't find him around, I rode back, end of story."

Trust. In the past, it had been a commodity in short supply in Caitlin's heart. But now? She looked deeply into Ace's eyes. There were no shadows there. No furtiveness. Only a heartfelt plea that she try to believe in him.

Through blinding tears, Caitlin managed to give him a shaky smile. "They won't get away with this, Ace. I don't know who shot Patrick, but if it's the last thing I do, I'll find out."

Beiler shot her a hate-filled look as he mounted his bay gelding. Joseph, David, and Esa were hauled up onto horses behind three other men. "First, you'd best get into town to see that brother of yours. He's mortally wounded. Unless I miss my guess, he won't live to see another sunrise. He's at the doc's."

The marshal signaled to his men to ride out. Caitlin stood on the porch, tears streaming down her cheeks. Doom. Somehow, she'd sensed its coming. Now it had arrived. Dust billowed around the horses and riders as they became small specks on the grassland that stretched endlessly beyond the yard. She'd never felt quite sol alone. Her husband gone, his brothers gone. Patrick near death. Fear lanced through her. An awful, bone-chilling fear.