Retribution Rails (Vengeance Road #2)

“The last step is squeezing the trigger,” I call from the doorway. “Yer learning everything up to that, and if you can’t do those first steps sure and true, the trigger and bullet ain’t gonna matter. Besides, you know how to shoot a pistol. You understand enough.”

Vaughn rests the rifle against her shoulder, frowning. “If you both expect me to live in this charming residence for the duration of my life, sighting a bucket until I’ve developed the Territory’s best aim, you are sorely mistaken.”

“There’re worse ways to pass time,” I joke.

“I can’t sit around anymore,” she goes on. “I need to do something. I don’t care what it is, but I can’t waste a moment long—”

“Look here, Charlotte,” Kate interrupts. “I know plenty ’bout acting without thinking. Hell, I could write a damn book ’bout it. The first lesson’d be that it’s a trail blazed with misfortune and bad luck. You might get what yer after, but that don’t mean there ain’t gonna be consequences.”

“Is there something you aim to confess,” Charlotte counters, “or do you typically speak in riddles?”

Kate is quiet a moment, then says, “I done some bad things in my life. Good, undeserving folk have died on account of my actions. Like Jesse’s brother, Will. He’s dead ’cus my youth—Jesse’s too—were founded on acting before thinking. That we didn’t intend for it to happen don’t excuse the fact that it did. And it’s worth noting that justice don’t always make a person sleep better at night. Not in the slightest.”

Vaughn’s listening, but she’s not hearing, ’cus her frown’s only getting deeper.

The sound of Jesse’s boots crunching on the hard earth sneaks up on us. He appears round the side of the house.

“What’d I miss?” he asks.

“Only me preaching on deaf ears,” Kate says. “Come on. It’s time for dinner.”





Vaughn spends the meal fuming, her eyes latched on to her plate, chewing ’bout as gracefully as a bull.

“Did I tell you I picked up the post in Prescott on my way through the other day?” Jesse says to Kate. “Sarah wrote. ’Parently our guest”—his eyes flick my way—“and his friends stormed her place when fleeing Wickenburg. They nearly got Jake. He took a shot to the right side, just above his heart.”

Vaughn’s gaze snaps up for the first time since we started eating. “But he’s all right? The boy?”

“Yeah, he’ll be outta work awhile, but he’s healing fine. How do you know Jake?”

“I stayed at the boarding house a night. He showed me to my room. He’s your . . .”

“Nephew. My sister’s son. After I got married, I left the family ranch to her. Her drunk of a husband ran it into the ground a few years later, and she left him. Took Jake and moved to the city proper. They been running the boarding house ever since.”

“I’m glad he’ll heal,” I say. “Boss took an unfair shot. The boy weren’t even armed.”

“That sincere?” Jesse says, angling toward me. “’Cus I can’t figure why yer still calling Rose ‘Boss’ if you ain’t riding with him no more.”

I swallow a bite of food, the truth too painful to utter. ’Cus I’m scared of Boss still. ’Cus calling him anything else would mean I’ve broken ties and moved on. ’Cus declaring my independence would as good as damn my mother were Boss to ever get his hands on me again.

“Jesse, please,” Kate says.

“I can’t be mad?” he continues. “Jake wouldn’t be hurt right now if it weren’t for the Rose Riders.”

“Same could be said if you never sold the ranch. Or our lives never crossed.”

“That’s different.”

“I know. But Jake’s gonna be fine, and it ain’t worth getting all riled over something already done happened. We gotta think ahead.”

“Ahead,” Vaughn says. “I like that. Since the Kid refuses to accept my offer, I’d like to discuss when I can go to town to find a gunslinger.”

Kate wipes her mouth with a napkin, sets it down on the table. “I reckon you won’t mind giving us a moment of privacy first? Me and Jesse and Reece?”

Vaughn’s frown is back quicker than a snake oil salesman whipping out his wares. She glances ’round the table, pausing on me. I shrug. She overheard the Coltons’ talk earlier, and she’s gotta know that anything they propose ain’t something I had a hand in. Still, this ain’t the response she’s looking for, ’cus she gives a mountainous sigh, tosses down her napkin, and stands up so quickly her chair skids back. Then she grabs a jacket from the hooks by the door and stomps outside.

The door slaps ’gainst the frame.

“She didn’t have to vacate the damn house,” Jesse says.

“Let her cool off,” Kate says, then turns toward me. “I’m just gonna cut right to it: Jesse and I been talking, and we’re willing to pay you five hundred if you see to the rest of yer buddies. Double that if’n you bring us proof the job’s done. Payment’ll be made in solid gold ore.”

“Gold ore?” I laugh. “Why’re you living in some drafty, isolated home if you got that much gold to yer name?”

“We don’t like to touch it if we don’t have to. It ain’t worth the trouble.”

“Yer lying,” I say. “You don’t got that money.”

“What folk you know that got two residences fully stocked at all times if’n they don’t got at least a little extra coin?” Jesse questions.

All right, then. I reckon he’s got a point. How they financed this home were one of the first things to cross my mind when we entered the clearing.

“Fine, you got some money. But running cattle?” I glance at Jesse. “Fetching eggs from a coop and eating flapjacks every morning?” A nod at Kate. “This ain’t how a couple with a thousand dollars to spare passes their days.”

“Will you do it or won’t ya?” Kate asks.

“And remember,” Jesse says, staring me down, “if’n you wanna make things right, you gotta face yer demons.”

And I do, I do. It’s like what Vaughn was hinting at the other day—it ain’t just about what I think or feel, it’s how I show that in actions. But money is what drives men like Boss, and I can’t let it drive me. ’Specially not when Ma’s life’ll be on the line if’n I mess up.

“If I do it,” I say after a moment, “it’s gotta be ’cus I want to, not ’cus I’m being paid.”

“Fine, do it for no money at all,” Jesse says. “Hell, I’ll help ya, even. I gotta face my own demons, too.”

“And what demons do you got?”

Jesse sets down his utensils, then looks me dead in the eye and says, “I killed yer boss’s brother.”

Well, there it is. The confession I been waiting for.

“Jesse!” Kate lurches upright.

“Nah, it’s all right, Kate,” he says, waving a hand to settle her. “The Kid’s figured it out already. He’s suspected it since he first wandered onto our Prescott claim.”

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