Outlaw’s Bride (32 page)

Patch bit her lip, realizing that Boyd had misinterpreted her question, knowing she shouldn’t say any more. This whole situation was a powder keg, and she didn’t want to be anywhere near when it blew up. She changed the subject. Sort of. “Chester Felber was shot today.”

Boyd’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know. That’s too bad. Now Ethan will have a devil of a time finding whoever gave Chester that arsenic. Too bad Chester’s secrets died with him.”

“He isn’t dead.” Patch bit her lip again.

Boyd sat forward in his chair. “Has Chester said anything about where he got the poison?”

“No. He’s in a coma. But Doc Carter thinks there’s a good chance he’ll live.”

She watched for some reaction from Boyd to that news, but all she got for her trouble was a noncommittal “You don’t say.”

Patch’s nerves forced her to her feet. She walked over to the mantel, as though she were examining the longhorn skull in greater detail. In fact, she marveled at the size and sharpness of the steer’s horns. It was hard to believe cowboys faced down these animals daily with no more than a horse and a rope.

She turned around to face Boyd. “When she thought her son was dying, Mrs. Felber admitted that Chester was the one who raped Merielle.”

Boyd jumped to his feet. “Good God!” He paced back and forth across the room, his hands thrust through his hair.

Patch stood frozen where she was. She waited for Boyd to realize that she must also know that he had been blackmailing Mrs. Felber. To her surprise, Boyd didn’t come to that conclusion at all. Instead he turned to her and said, “Has anybody thought to let Trahern know about this? The chances are good that if he knew Chester was the guilty party, he’d call off that gunfighter he has chasing Ethan.”

Patch stared, stunned that the first words out of Boyd’s mouth appeared to be concern for Ethan. This, from the man who had betrayed Ethan over and over for seventeen years? It didn’t make sense. However, she could see the wisdom of Boyd’s suggestion.

“I’ll go with you,” she said.

“No, it would be better if I go alone. I can get
there faster on horseback than if we both go in your buggy. In matters like this, every second counts.

“You go on back to the Double Diamond and make sure Ethan keeps his head down until we know for sure what Trahern plans to do with this new information.”

For an instant, Patch considered confronting Boyd with her knowledge of his blackmail scheme against the Felbers. But she couldn’t see that any purpose would be served except to make him defensive. Better to let well enough alone, at least for the present.

Boyd urged Patch to stay and finish her lemonade, but she was anxious to find Ethan and recount Boyd’s reaction to the news that Chester was guilty of Merielle’s rape. Maybe Ethan could find more sense in it than she could. She hadn’t gone a mile toward home in the buggy when she met Ethan coming toward her on horseback.

“What are you doing out here?” he demanded.

“I went to see Boyd.”

“Are you crazy? Or just plain stupid!”

“I was scared out of my wits for you!” she retorted. “I thought you might have gone after Boyd. I take it from the fact you’re here that I was entirely wrong.”

A slight flush stained Ethan’s cheekbones. “I thought I might talk to him.”

“You just missed him,” Patch said. “He’s on his way to the Tumbling T.”

“Then there’s no sense in my going any farther. I have to admit I wouldn’t mind a little more time
to think about all this before I have to confront him. And I’ve got cattle that need to be rounded up for branding.”

Ethan tied his horse to the back of the buggy and joined Patch on the seat. He took the reins from her and set the horse in motion.

“I suppose Boyd has some more ‘business’ with Trahern.” Ethan couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice.

“That’s not why he’s going there today. As soon as I mentioned that Mrs. Felber had admitted that Chester was the guilty party in Merielle’s rape, he asked whether anyone had informed Trahern. I didn’t know. He’s on his way there now to see whether Trahern will use this information to call off that gunfighter he hired to hunt you down.”

Ethan shook his head. “I’ve already had a showdown with Calloway.”

Patch’s stomach did a flip-flop. “What happened? Did you kill him?”

“Bloodthirsty, aren’t you?”

Patch glared at him. “Well, you’re not dead, so I figured he must be.”

“It turns out Calloway and I had crossed paths ten years ago. I saved his life then. He decided to return the favor.”

“You’re kidding! Why didn’t he recognize you in town?”

“I never saw his face or learned his name the night I saved his life, and he never saw mine. We were just two strangers who met one dark night. If it hadn’t been for Calloway recognizing the medal
he gave me that night, things might have ended up a lot less happily than they have.”

“That sounds like something I might read in a novel.”

Ethan grinned. “It was damned coincidental, all right. When Calloway left me, he was headed for Trahern’s place to resign.”

“Then Boyd’s trip will be wasted.” Patch paused and said, “Do you find it as strange as I do that Boyd’s first concern seemed to be for your safety?”

Ethan scowled. “Why not? It isn’t going to cost him anything to help me out this time.”

“Maybe he regrets what he did. Maybe he saw this as a way to make some amends,” Patch speculated.

“It’s too late for that,” Ethan said. “Years too late.”

“Do you think you can ever forgive him?”

Ethan stared off into the distance. “I don’t know. I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trusted Boyd. I ran into him after I left the line shack where Dora fixed me up. He was on his way home with his pa. Clete was dead drunk, so Boyd and I were able to talk without being bothered.

“He promised to watch after my family for me,” Ethan said in a hoarse voice. “He told me not to worry, that he wouldn’t let my parents get lonely. He would be their son until I came home.”

Ethan swallowed over the thickness in his throat. “All that time, he knew who was really guilty. When we hugged each other good-bye,
there were tears in his eyes.… I thought they were for me.”

A band tightened around Patch’s chest, making it hard to breathe.
Monstrous
. There was no other word for Boyd’s actions. Patch became convinced that, considering the past, it was likely Boyd’s race to Trahern’s ranch had nothing to do with helping Ethan.

But if not, why had Boyd been in such a hurry to go there?

Jefferson Trahern fisted his hand around the fifty-dollar gold certificates Calloway had shoved into his palm. Nothing he could say had swayed the bounty hunter. Calloway had quit. Trahern felt a rage born of frustration. Once again, his efforts to kill Ethan Hawk had been thwarted.

“Father?”

Trahern turned away from the front window to face his daughter. Seeing her every day over the past seventeen years had fanned the flames of his ire, so the fire had never died. Being angry was the only way he could survive the agony of watching his child grow up, but never grow older. “What is it Merielle?”

“Did your friend leave?”

“Yes, he’s gone.”

“Is he coming back?”

“No. He wasn’t somebody you should know, Merielle.”

“I liked him.”

Trahern didn’t argue with his daughter. He had learned from experience that he always lost. She
saw only the good. The bad had ceased to exist for her since that awful night. She had been the soul of amiability—until the last couple of weeks.

Lately, she had been unusually contrary. And she had headaches all the time. He worried that something might be wrong, that she might be getting ill. But he avoided seeking out a doctor because that would be giving his fears substance.

“There’s someone coming, Father. Maybe your friend decided to come back after all.”

Trahern wasn’t expecting anyone. The ranch was virtually abandoned. Frank had taken every cowhand who could fork a horse out to round up and brand the spring calves. Maria had gone along with her husband to manage the chuck wagon.

Trahern leaned over to look past the draped curtain in the parlor to the front yard. Sure enough, a rider was approaching. It wasn’t Calloway; it was Boyd Stuckey. Trahern headed to the front door to greet his visitor. “Stay here, Merielle.”

Over the years, Trahern had spent a great deal of his fortune on private detectives and bounty hunters to track Ethan Hawk down, on lawyers and judges to convict him, and most recently, on gunfighters to shoot him down. He had sold off his assets one at a time to finance his campaign against the man who had murdered his son and raped his daughter.

He didn’t like or trust Stuckey, but over the years he had found it advantageous to do business with him. He wondered what had brought Boyd to the Tumbling Tin such a hurry.

Trahern opened the front door before Boyd knocked. “What are you doing here? I thought we’d finished our business together.”

“I have some news that might be of interest to you … and Merielle.”

Trahern might not have invited Boyd inside, except anything that concerned Merielle had special significance. He hadn’t missed the fact that Boyd’s horse had been ridden hard and was lathered with sweat. “Come on in.”

Trahern knew Merielle was in the parlor, but it was the most logical place to take Boyd. As he stepped over the threshold he said, “Merielle, Boyd has—”

He didn’t get any more out before his daughter gasped. “You!” She stared at Boyd across the width of the parlor, her eyes wide. Then she shut her eyes tight and put a hand to her head. “Father?”

Trahern stood frozen with fear for his daughter. “Merielle? Are you all right?”

“My head hurts, Father.”

“I have some news that might make her feel better,” Boyd said as he stepped farther into the room. “Chester Felber was shot today.”

Merielle’s eyes opened wide in fright. “Chester?”

Trahern stood at the apex of a tense triangle that also included his daughter and Boyd. “I think you’d better leave now. You’re upsetting my daughter.”

“You’ll want to hear what I have to say,” Boyd countered.

“Then get it said and get out!”

“Chester Felber is the man who raped Merielle!”

“What?” Trahern stood stunned, his jaw agape.

Boyd took advantage of Trahern’s inaction to approach Merielle, circling like a wolf that knows its prey is crippled and helpless. He stopped behind her, his mouth close to her ear. His voice was no more than a whisper, certainly not loud enough for Trahern to hear. “It was Chester, wasn’t it, Merielle? You remember, don’t you, how it was? You screamed and screamed. Chester hit you again and again to stop those horrible screams. It was Chester who raped you.”

Merielle shook her head no.

“Leave her alone!” Trahern snapped.

But Boyd’s sudden appearance, his command to remember, had already sent Merielle’s thoughts spinning backward in time. She tried to shut everything out, but the memories kept flooding in, until there was no holding them back.

And she remembered.

She had come home right after school and told her father she was going to her room to rest before the party. Then she had climbed down the tree outside her window and started for the cave where she was supposed to meet Frank. They sky had been so blue! The wind was blowing in the grass so it almost sang. She had never felt so happy!

She had been nearly to the cave when she saw Boyd coming toward her.

“I came to wish you a happy birthday, since I wasn’t invited to the party,” Boyd said.

“Thanks, Boyd.”

“You going to meet Frank?”

She smiled shyly. “He has a present for me.”

“I’ve got one, too,” Boyd said.

Since he didn’t have anything in his hands she asked, “Where is it?”

He pointed to his lips. “Right here.”

Merielle laughed. “Right where?”

“Here.”

He grabbed her before she realized what he was going to do and kissed her right on the mouth.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand in disgust. “Boyd Stuckey, you snake! You skulking stinkworm! How dare you kiss me!”

She was so busy being outraged that she didn’t notice the expression slowly changing on Boyd’s face. When she finally looked at him again, she was frightened at what she saw. His features were contorted, and his face had turned red.

“So I’m not good enough for you, huh! Frank, the dirt farmer’s son, is good enough. But not Boyd, the drunk’s kid. Hoity-toity, high and mighty Merielle Trahern! You’re no better than a whore in the saloon, spreading your legs for Frank whenever he asks.”

“Stop it, Boyd!” She held her hands to her ears, appalled that Boyd could say such awful things to her face. “I won’t listen!”

He grabbed her hands to pull them from her ears. “You’ll listen to me, Merielle Trahern. I’m as good as Frank Meade. Better. I’m smarter, and
I’m going to be somebody someday, just you watch and see. Frank will never be anything.”

“You’re not even good enough to lick Frank’s boots,” Merielle retorted.

Boyd shoved her, a little push to shut her up, but she lost her balance and fell. That made her even madder, because she had on the skirt she planned to wear to her party, and now it was dirty. She shouted, “You’re
nothing
compared to Frank, Boyd! Just a nasty old—”