Leather and Lace

Chapter 32

Casey’s and Jocelyn’s glances met in clear recognition of the danger. Any pleading or display of emotion from the women invited a taste of Jenkins’s fury. Bonnie, her face pale, stood as if her small body were frozen to the porch. Do not open your mouth, Bonnie, or it’s all over for us.

Jocelyn gently took Bonnie’s arm and escorted her inside.

Jenkins smelled of whisky, and his right eye twitched. Killer mad. Someone always ended up dead when he was like this. God, please help us.

“Your quarrel is with me,” Casey said once the four of them were inside with the door closed. “Let these women go.”

“Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t.” His glare sent a flash of alarm up her spine. “Here, girl, let me take a look at you.” He ripped off her bonnet and yanked on her hair, sending hairpins flying. “My, you sure look fancy. This new life must be agreein’ with you.” He pointed the revolver at Jocelyn and Bonnie. Casey immediately planted herself in front of them. “It’s a pity I have to kill all of you.”

Horror for her dear friends penetrated her soul. She’d caused this. “Leave them alone, Jenkins. This is between you and me.”

He appeared to think over her request while Casey stared into his reddened eyes. He hadn’t bathed in days. Images from the past gripped her. He had no sense when he’d been drinking. They were as good as dead unless she thought of something fast. How many times had she seen him this way? How many folks had he killed in a drunken stupor?

Jocelyn. Bonnie. Poor Bonnie, who saw Kathleen’s bloody body after her murder.

“There’s rope by the wood box,” she said. “I’ll tie them up for you. Gag them, too, if you like.”

“Why?” He appeared to weigh her words.

“So they don’t cause trouble.”

“They’re Morgan Andrews’s family.” Jenkins wiped his dirty mouth and slapped his right leg. “I have him to thank for this. Seems only fair for me to kill his women.” He stepped toward Bonnie. “This pretty little thing needs a good man first.”

Bonnie stiffened and lifted her chin in an uncharacteristic display of strength.

“Morgan is on his way here. He’s right behind me,” Casey said.

“You’re lyin’.”

“Why should I? You could pick him off when he comes riding in.” Her eyes never left his face. “You’ve got both of us, Jenkins. We’re all trapped.” She gambled on Jenkins’s having to seize control of every situation. He’d planned her death for a long time. Any interruption would bother him.

Jenkins angrily knocked over the coffeepot resting on the stove. His right eye jerked. “Tie ’em up, and be quick about it before I change my mind. I’ve got my own way of handling this. I sure never thought him stupid enough to bring you here. What did you promise him?”

“Nothing.”

Jenkins waved his gun in her face. “I know what you are, Casey girl. Hurry up. We’re getting out of here.”

Casey captured Jocelyn’s gaze and mouthed the word pray. Bonnie saw the exchange and nodded slightly. She seemed to be in control of her emotions. Casey bound both women with loose knots and gagged them. She sent silent messages of hope to her precious friends. She needed time—time to think. The door flew open, and Grant walked in.

“What’s going on here?” Grant’s gaze swept to his mother and Bonnie, then rested on Casey.

Jenkins whipped around and raised his revolver.

“No, please.” Casey’s words died in the blast of gunfire.

Grant fell back against the door. Blood spurted from his shoulder and dripped down his shirt. He grabbed his upper arm and stared dumfounded at the thick red liquid oozing between his fingers. Pain and shock spread over his face. He swayed toward the table.

The nightmare had begun.

“Let me take care of him.” Casey moved toward Grant.

Jenkins grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the door. “We’re getting out of here before that shot brings any more uninvited company.” The outlaw knocked her to the floor and delivered a savage kick to her side. “One more word, and I’ll kill ’em all.”

Grant grabbed his bleeding shoulder. “My brother will tear you apart with his bare hands.”

Casey looked up, her eyes glazed from the sharp bruise to her body. She sent a silent warning to Grant.

“Not likely, kid,” Jenkins said. “You’ve got guts, considering I’ve already shot you once.”

Casey forced herself to stand. “I’m ready.”

“Get outside and on my horse,” he said.

Once outside, she managed to pull herself up onto his saddle. The outlaw climbed up behind her and drew her to him. His touch brought back too many memories—the many nights she’d slept with her Colt beneath her blanket and her fingers wrapped around a knife. The nights he’d wrenched the weapons from her and used her until he was satisfied.

He cursed and threatened those inside who might venture out after them. He took a quick look around and spurred his horse into a dead run. Casey saw a couple of ranch hands emerge from the bunkhouse and shout at the two as they raced away. Jenkins whirled around with an explosion of lead. She couldn’t tell if any of them were hit, but she prayed for their safety.

At first she had no idea where they were headed, but it soon became clear just where Jenkins planned to take her. They were riding in the direction of Morgan’s cabin.

This can’t be. Morgan will go mad. This can’t happen to him again.

She prayed for wisdom. Jenkins had wanted her once. “We can ride together again,” she said. “It can be just like you want it.”

He tightened his grip around her waist until she choked back a scream. She’d do anything to spare Morgan the horror of finding her dead in the cabin. Anything.

*****

“I’m ashamed of myself, Reverend.” Morgan paced the kitchen of the parsonage. “A rider brought Casey’s pardon late last night. I wanted to tell her this morning, but she left church before I had a chance to talk to her. I know I have to accept whatever she says about us, and that has my insides feeling like curdled milk. Guess I needed to talk to you before I head out to the ranch.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve really gotten prideful about this. I should have chased her down this morning. She’s waited too long to be free.”

“You’re being honest. I’ve seen her the past few months in church, staring back at me as though she wanted to cry.”

Morgan crossed his arms and stopped in front of the window. He remembered all the times when Casey had been afraid of him. “I think I ruined it between us, and it’s my fault. I shoved my bad temperament at her one too many times. Mama reminded me that she’s never known a decent man. No wonder she’s afraid to trust.”

The reverend stood beside him. “I’ll be praying you two will be rejoicing with the good news.”

“We both worked so hard on this pardon.” He turned from the window. “Lots of folks did. I think I’ll head back to the boardinghouse and get a clean shirt.”

“Facing our problems is the best way to solve them. If you two make it to church tonight, I won’t ask you about my sermon. Something tells me you’d have a hard time concentrating.”

“Maybe so, but I need to listen more instead of stepping into life each morning like a stubborn mule.”

The two said their good-byes, and Morgan made his way down the street to the boardinghouse. He thought about how he missed the ranch. Even the bunkhouse was more homelike than his room here. The proprietor waved at him.

“I have a note for you from Miss Flanagan. It’s under your door.”

Taking two steps at a time up the stairs, Morgan rushed down the hall to his room. He opened the door and snatched up the folded piece of paper. With the door open, he read each word, then read it again. He shut the door with his boot. “Thank You, Lord!” His words bounced from the walls inside his small room. In two minutes, he had on a clean shirt. Cramming the note inside his shirt pocket, he grabbed his hat.

At the livery, he saddled his horse, all the while frustration creeping through him. He couldn’t get to the ranch fast enough. But as he swung up onto the saddle, Ben walked in.

“Morgan, we need to talk.”

“I’m in a hurry. Need to ride out to the ranch.”

“There’s trouble.”

Alarm sounded through Morgan’s body. “What do you mean?”

Ben made his way closer. “Tim O’Hare was seen earlier this morning riding toward your land. He was alone. But what about Jenkins?”

*****

In all of Casey’s days at the ranch, she’d never been this close to the cabin—the scene of Kathleen’s murder. Morgan wanted to burn it to the ground, but it was also the cabin his father had built. Recently he’d cleaned up the weeds and underbrush with the idea of asking Jesse and his family if they’d like to live there. All of that seemed forsaken with what Jenkins now planned.

Jenkins rode up behind the cabin, dismounted, and tied his horse to a pine. Casey started to swing her leg over the saddle, but he pulled her to the ground onto a patch of prickly thistles. She waited for him to empty his revolver into her, but that would have been too easy.

“Didn’t I tell ya not to ever leave me?” Jenkins bent to her face. His foul breath reminded her of a hundred other times he’d come after her. “Were you fool enough to think I’d never catch up with you? I don’t ever give up, Casey girl.”

“I guess I knew it. Expected it.” How stupid I’ve been. I shouldn’t have stopped running.

Morgan, I haven’t told you in so very long how much I love you.

Jenkins yanked her from where she’d fallen and dragged her to the front of the cabin. Forcing her to her feet, he grabbed her waist and limped inside. Even with his bad leg, his strength was something to be reckoned with. Fighting him would only make matters worse. Those nightmares screamed against her senses. He slammed the door shut, and the cabin shook. Shadows from the overhanging trees intensified her fear of what Morgan would find. She blinked and searched for a way to defend herself.

As though Jenkins knew her thoughts, he pinned her arms behind her. White-hot pain shot up her fingers to her shoulders. He wrapped rawhide around her wrists until it cut into her flesh. All the while he cursed. Casey understood his game. She refused to give in to any semblance of anguish that would spur him on to inflict more agony. He shoved her onto a chair and reached for a nearly empty bottle of liquor on the table.

“Casey girl.” He swayed with the effects of the alcohol. “We’ve got us a reunion—you, me, and Andrews. But I ain’t killin’ you now. Not until he shows up. Why, we’ve got ourselves a party.” He took a gulp from the bottle. “Been resting and drinking all mornin’, thinking how I was going to make you pay for all the trouble you’ve caused me. I should have sold you to Rose since you couldn’t handle one night there. You always were uppity.” He sneered. “And I loved you, too. I’d have given you anything you wanted. But you lit out.”

He took another swallow. “Purdy dresses. A ranch in Mexico. Anything. But I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Jenkins paced across the wooden floor. She calculated how fast she could get to the door before he caught her.

“Let me tell you about the things I learned about making folks pay,” he said. “There’s a heap of fun we’re gonna have with a knife and a little fire. But most of it will wait for Andrews. That man has bad luck when it comes to women.”

Panic ripped across her mind. Living meant enduring his threats. His torture . . . or whatever he chose to do to her.

“Do you remember all the promises I made you? Do I have to remind you? I’m a man of my word, Casey girl. You’ll see. I’m going to take care of you and Andrews together. Seems fittin’, doesn’t it? And that no-count brother of yours is miles away.”

With each threat, he lifted the bottle and drank until he sent it crashing to the floor. Bits of glass splintered about the room. She held her breath and understood that the shards fueled his mind for what he planned to do next.

Jenkins’s eyes narrowed, and his laugh grew louder. He moved her way. As long as his garbled, deranged shouts of insanity spun around her, she had time to think. The ranch hands saw what happened. They’d help Grant and send word to town for the doctor and Ben and Morgan. Watching Jenkins swerve and bump into the side of the cabin, she prayed he would pass out.

I can’t even fight back. If only I could get away long enough to make a run for it.

She tried to work her hands free, but the rawhide knots only tightened. Casey clung to a prayer for deliverance as soundly as she clung to life.

She heard a horse. A rider? A man called out. She strained her ears and tried to move. That voice. Tim.

Jenkins stomped outside. With his back to her, Casey made her way to where Jenkins leaned against the open door of the cabin.

“Jenkins,” Tim shouted from the small clearing in front of the cabin. “What are you doing in there?”

“O’Hare, I thought you had better things to do than trail me.”

“I wondered where you were headed. I hadn’t been in this part of Texas before, so I thought I’d find out what you were up to.” Tim sounded friendly. “You’re a hard man to find.”

“Well, now you found me. Get on out of here. I want to be alone.”

“Who do you have in there with you?” Tim dismounted from his horse and slowly ambled toward the cabin. His right hand rested on his gun belt.

“Nobody. Just me and my bottle.”

“I think you’re lying. This is Andrews’s land. Morgan Andrews.”

“What do you mean?” Impatience seemed to mount with Jenkins’s every word. Casey wanted to warn Tim, but Jenkins would shoot him.

“I want to come in and take a look. I wouldn’t want you to be drinking by yourself. I’ve come a long way.” Tim stared at the drunken outlaw.

Jenkins raised his revolver. “I don’t think so.”

The click screamed at her mind. “Tim,” Casey cried, “he’ll kill you for sure. Do what he says.”

The muscles in her brother’s face tightened. “Jenkins, I told you too many times to leave my sister alone. I’ve been trailing you for a long time, knowing you’d not give up on finding her. Casey, come on outside.”

“She stays put,” Jenkins said.

“Then you and I will settle this for good.”

“I could shoot you where you stand.” Jenkins limped off the porch.

“But you’d rather fight me square. You’ve wanted to for a long time.” Tim’s hand rested near his holster.

“Yer pushin’ me.”

“Come on out in the open, Jenkins. Show me what you’re made of. This business with my sister has to stop here. I told you to leave her be. She ain’t no good to you alive or dead.”

“I’m faster than you.” Jenkins spit tobacco between them.

“Prove it.” Tim whirled one quick glimpse her way.

Casey gasped. Her mind scrambled. Was Tim faster?

“I don’t want to kill ya,” Jenkins said. “We were partners.”

“Didn’t stop you from killin’ Franco. Let my sister go.”

“She’s mine. Always has been. You’re not giving me any choice but to gun you down, O’Hare.”

She realized Tim allowed silence to strengthen his challenge. She well remembered his tactics. “Are you afraid of me?”

Jenkins made his way into the clearing. She followed, no longer afraid that he might swing his gun back her way.

Tim met Casey’s gaze. One brief moment of compassion. “That’s my sister you’re treatin’ that way. I’m ready, Jenkins.”

In the midst of anger’s fury, two men fired. And two men fell.

Casey screamed as her brother’s body slumped to the ground. He rolled over on his back. Blood rippled over his chest and onto the dry ground. She stumbled down the steps to his still form. “Tim. I’m coming.” She struggled with the rawhide binding her hands. “I can’t touch you.” She stared in horror at the sight of his ashen face. “Why did it have to come to this?”

He groaned and opened his mouth to speak. She tried to stop him, but he ignored her pleading. “Cas, I’m sorry . . . I never did right by you.”

She blinked back stinging tears. “It’s all right. Save your strength and rest. I’ll go get help.”

“Not this time, little sister,” he whispered. “Jenkins’s bullet did me in.”

And with the red pool at his side, she saw his words were true.

“Tim, do you still remember Jesus?” Sobbing broke her words.

“No . . . only through Ma.”

“It’s not too late to ask Him into your life.” All the things she wanted to tell him about Jesus flowed through the recesses of her mind, but time stole them from her heart.

He struggled to breathe. “Someday, when you see Ma again, tell her I’m sorry. I never kept the promises I made to take care of you proper.”

“You did keep—” Her words fell on lifeless ears. Casey heard the click of a revolver. Her gaze bore into the crippled, mangled outlaw who had stalked her and killed her brother. He’d crawled to her, and now he aimed his revolver directly at her face. If she hadn’t been on her knees, she could have kicked the gun from his hands.

“Go ahead, Jenkins,” she said. “Do it now. I dare you.”

He raised the weapon to fire, but movement caught her eye. Morgan raced from the trees beside the cabin and slammed into Jenkins. In the shuffle, the gun slipped from Jenkins’s fingers.

Morgan grabbed the revolver and towered over him. “Don’t try anything.” He shoved Jenkins aside. Blood oozed from Jenkins’s side, and he groaned. Morgan whipped around to her and pulled a knife from his pocket to cut the rawhide binding her wrists.

“Are you all right?”

All she could do was nod.

“Shoot me.” Jenkins’s words sounded more like an animal begging to be put out of its misery.

“Not this time,” Morgan said. “That’s what the law’s for.”

Morgan knelt at Casey’s side. “It’s all over. No one will hurt you now. No one will ever hurt you again.”

“Tim tried to stop Jenkins,” she said. “He died trying to save me. He died without Jesus.”

Morgan stared at Jenkins, who clutched his bleeding side. He pulled her closer. “There was a time I’d have filled you with every bullet I had,” he told the outlaw. “But a judge and jury will make this decision.”

Horses and riders approached them—ranch hands.

“Jesse, get this man to the house. The doc can look at him after he sees to Grant. Then Ben can have him.”

“Grant? Is he all right?” Casey’s tears refused to stop, but she didn’t care.

“He’ll be just fine. It’s not too deep. Rafael went after the doctor.”

Casey wet her lips. “I’m so sorry for not trusting you. I love you . . . I never dreamed you would come.”

“Oh, my dear sweet lady, how could you ever think such nonsense? My nightmare was that I wouldn’t make it in time. Thank God, I found you.”

“Do . . . you still want to marry me? I don’t care about the pardon.”

Morgan planted a kiss on her forehead. “Honey, the papers came yesterday evening. President Arthur granted the pardon. You’re free. Free from Jenkins. Free from ever running again.” He gathered her up and carried her away from the sight of Tim’s body. “I’m taking you home, sweetheart. It’s all over.”