The moon through the open side door reflected off the dead man’s blood.
Gunshots rang from the barn area.
Dillon rose and took a step toward the noise.
‘‘No!’’ Wes shouted. ‘‘There hasn’t been time for more than a few to cross through the door. Let the others take care of anyone near the barn. You get to the front gate and warn the men to stay put. If several are within the compound, they’ll have to open the gate to let more in. The main entrance would be the fastest way to enter.’’
Dillon nodded.
Shots volleyed again from the barn.
Wes closed the open door, bolted it once more, and ran for the house. He wasn’t sure how many rats were inside, but one thing he knew. At least one of them would be headed straight for the study and Maxwell Hardy.
Allie jumped from her chair at the sound of gunfire. She was halfway across the room before she realized she wasn’t in the middle of a raid. Everything looked exactly as it had since she’d arrived. Maxwell was resting with Victoria by his side. All was still around her.
But Victoria’s head turned toward Allie. ‘‘You heard it, didn’t you, child?’’ she whispered.
‘‘Gunfire.’’
‘‘Gunfire.’’ She motioned for Allie to move closer. ‘‘Maxwell told me you’d been in raids. Well, if this is what I think it is, I’m facing a raid on my place and no one,no oneinvades my home and lives.’’
She stood slowly and paced her way to the corner of the room without touching any furnishings. ‘‘Once during an Indian uprising, I found the perfect place to hide. In plain sight.’’ She pointed up, toward the top of an eight-foot bookshelf framed into both sides of the wall. ‘‘It’s an easy climb. Go, child, we’ve no time.’’
‘‘But…’’ Allie couldn’t leave Victoria and Maxwell alone.
‘‘You’re the one they’ve come to kill.’’ Victoria pushed her toward the shelves. ‘‘We’ll be safe enough. Now go and don’t come down until it’s safe.’’
Allie placed her hands and feet on the polished wood and climbed as easily as if it had been a ladder. Once she reached the top, she spread out across the dusty wood, melting into the ceiling shadows.
She felt like an observer, no longer part of the room. Victoria seemed very small from this height.
The old woman returned to her chair and lightly brushed her hand along Maxwell’s arm. Several rounds of gunfire exploded from the direction of the barn.
‘‘Maxwell,’’ she said simply, ‘‘we take to arms.’’
The old sheriff opened his eyes and winked at her as though she could see. ‘‘I’m ready, Victoria.’’ He patted her hand. ‘‘Is the girl safe?’’
‘‘She’s safe.’’
Neither one of them showed any surprise when the door shattered open with a loud, cracking sound. An instant later, Maxwell’s gun fired, as did the intruder’s.
Allie watched the sheriff jerk backward onto the couch, his side splattered in blood. The intruder stumbled forward a few steps before falling dead. Only one drop of crimson marked a wound on his forehead.
The old sheriff whispered Victoria’s name before letting the gun slip from his hand onto the covers at his side.
Victoria grabbed his hand. ‘‘Don’t you dare die on me, Maxwell.’’ She stood slowly without releasing her grip on his hand. ‘‘Katherine,’’ she called toward the door. ‘‘You can come out now.’’
To Allie’s amazement, Katherine stepped past the shattered door. Just behind her stood a man dressed in black. He wore his hat low and walked with a swagger of one who thought himself above such surroundings. He was the man Allie had seen mornings ago. Michael. He advanced, using his aunt as a shield.
‘‘Who is that with you?’’ Victoria asked. ‘‘I hear another crawling behind you like a snake.’’
‘‘Don’t you recognize your own son?’’ Katherine snapped. ‘‘Has it been so many years you’d forget the sound of his footsteps?’’
Victoria’s face softened for a moment. ‘‘Michael, I thought you’d never come home.’’
‘‘I didn’t, Mother. I came to take what’s mine before you give it away. You’ve dominated everything and everyone in your life for years. But you never could dominate me. Not even with your slave-dog, Hardy, to keep tracking me down. I took my freedom years ago, and now I’ve come back to take what belongs to me.’’
Allie watched. He raised his weapon.
‘‘Good-bye, Mother!’’ He said the last word with pure hate in his tone.
Victoria stood like a ruling queen before him. She didn’t look surprised or even hurt by his words. She silently accepted a fate she’d known would come with the same courage with which she’d faced all problems in her life.
Just as Michael drew his mother into his gun sight, a shot rang out from the hallway, hitting him full in the chest. Blood splattered over the fine lace tablecloths and handmade cushions as he fell.
‘‘You’ve killed him!’’ Katherine screamed as she dropped with Michael to the floor. She tried to break his fall, but her body was too frail.
Victoria didn’t move as Wes stormed the room, his gun still aimed at Michael as though the man in black might yet rally to fight.
‘‘Are you all right, Victoria?’’ Wes yelled.
She nodded slightly.
‘‘And Allie? And the sheriff?’’ Wes advanced, laying his weapon down when he saw Hardy’s wound.
Before Victoria could answer, Katherine screamed a full war cry. ‘‘Who cares about them? They’re nothing! Michael’s been shot. Victoria, McLain’s killed your last son.’’
The old blind woman blinked back tears, not allowing them to fall. ‘‘I know. It had to be done, and I couldn’t have pulled the trigger. He was rotten from childhood. By the time he could talk I knew something was twisted in his soul. He hated me for everything I ever did to help him. Just as he hated Maxwell.’’
‘‘Well, a man like McLain is not getting away with killing one ofmykin.’’ Katherine rose with Michael’s gun in her hand. ‘‘A life for a life, that’s what the Good Book says.’’
Wes jumped for his Colt as twin blasts shattered the room. For a moment he froze, surprised he felt no pain. Then Katherine crumbled, her body falling protectively over Michael’s. Her blood blended with his on the multicolored rug.
Victoria calmly laid Maxwell’s gun back at his side and walked slowly to her sister. Her steps were not as sure as they had been. She felt her way, stretching her hands low in front of her, searching for her sister.
The tip of Victoria’s boot touched the bundled fabric of Katherine’s dress. She knelt, pulling Katherine into her arms, holding the wounded woman to her chest.
‘‘Why?’’ Victoria whispered. ‘‘Why’d you unlock the gate, Katherine?’’
‘‘It wasn’t-’’
‘‘Of course it was. Don’t lie to me now. I stood just above the kitchen door listening to the swish of your skirts. Nothing sounds like your skirts moving about the place. I should have yelled to warn Wes and the guard, but I couldn’t believe you’d truly open us up for attack.’’
Neither of the old women seemed aware of the action going on around them. Their world was only one another. They didn’t notice Wes calling for Allie and then helping her down from the shelves.
Katherine gripped her side in pain as her face twisted with hatred. ‘‘All right. I opened the door. I let Michael in. I couldn’t let you give everything away to a little tramp of a girl who lived wild like a savage. Michael has always had a man in Austin watching for her to surface. He thought he took care of her when she was given to a preacher who swore he’d take her north and keep her caged. But McLain didn’t mind his own business, then Hardy interfered when the preacher failed.’’
Victoria moved her hands gently over her sister’s cheek. ‘‘Michael wanted the ranch that badly?’’
‘‘Bad enough to kill anyone who got in his way. Including you, dear sister.’’ Katherine almost spit the words.
‘‘But why you?’’ Victoria asked. ‘‘Did you hate me so much?’’
Shots continued outside. Wes ordered Allie to do what she could for the sheriff and Katherine, then vanished through the window with both Colts drawn.
Katherine’s voice weakened. ‘‘Yes,’’ she choked out the words, ‘‘you’ve always had everything. The love of many men, children, wealth. I’ve had nothing.Nothing.’’
Victoria cradled her sister. ‘‘But you had my love.’’
‘‘I didn’t want your love.’’ Her words were only a faint whisper now. ‘‘I wanted your life.’’
Victoria rocked her little sister to sleep with the same lullaby she’d used when they were children. She’d lost her Michael years ago. She’d only been hanging on to memories and hope. But she’d lost her sister tonight.
Allie watched her, not knowing how to help. Victoria was in a world of darkness now without a guide.
Though gunfire still sounded outside, in the study all was quiet.
TWENTY-TWO
THE GUNFIGHT FINALLY STOPPED. TORCHES AND lanterns were lit in the courtyard. All told, seven men had passed through the door. And seven men, including Michael, lay dead… along with three of Victoria’s army.
Wes checked Hardy’s wounds and hurried back toward Allie. He’d sent Gideon and Jason on ahead to see if the sheriff was still alive, but Wes held little hope.
‘‘McLain!’’ yelled the guard manning the main gate as Wes reached the center of the courtyard. ‘‘More riders coming in fast. Do we fire?’’
By now, the moon was up, giving any man a clear shot from the level of the gate. Snakes, like Michael’s men, would be holding to the shadows.
‘‘No!’’ Wes climbed the ladder to the lookout post. ‘‘Stand ready, but let them come closer.’’
He looked into the night. Three riders sliced the distance between them and the headquarters. Wes could tell by the way they handled their mounts they were experienced horsemen who’d spent most of their lives in the saddle. As they neared, he shouldered his rifle, holding his call to fire until they were nearer.
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