Authors: Sarah McCarty
“No. The trial was necessary,” Sam offered from where he was searching the sheriff’s desk.
“How so?”
“Can’t get you a pardon if you’re not convicted,” Caine pointed out.
“You got the governor to give me a pardon?”
“Working on it. It’s an election year. He’s worried about how being associated with Hell’s Eight will look to the voters.”
“He wasn’t too worried about how it was going to look when we got him out of that bind with that prostitute who was blackmailing him in regard to the boy he’d been dallying with.”
“Yeah, well, politicians have convenient memories.”
“Unfortunately,” Caine explained, opening the chest by the door and taking out Shadow’s gunbelt and knives, “the governor and his wife have an understanding. She doesn’t comment on his sins and he doesn’t comment on hers.”
“So she’ll cover for him?” Shadow asked.
“With as many alibis and excuses as he needs to walk away smelling like a rose.”
“Mighty nice gallows they built you out there,” Sam interrupted, looking out the window. “Don’t think they’re taking any chances with the rope breaking.”
“Yep,” Caine concurred. “That’s definitely a rope to do Hell’s Eight proud.”
Shadow couldn’t help the smile. Damn, it felt good to spar with his brothers. “Go to hell, all of you.”
And they
were
his brothers. It might have taken a year of being cut off from them for him to understand it, but he got it now. Sam, with his blond hair, easy smile and intense way of looking at things, and Caine, with his green eyes, brown hair and deadly calm, might not look anything like him, but they were as much his brothers as Tracker was. He’d never accepted that, always thinking that it was blood that made family, but there was a connection there. He’d die for any of these men. And they’d die for him.
“Looks to me like you’ve already been there and brought some of it back with you.” Caine shook his head as he got closer. “Don’t they give you a bath in here?”
“The deputy is right considerate. Once a day I get doused with a bucket of cold water.”
“Is the deputy that pissant out there, thinking he’s got a sense of humor?” Tracker asked, looking through the window.
“Yup. I think it makes his morning.”
“Uh-huh.”
Shadow knew what that
uh-huh
meant. Tracker was taking notes. That didn’t bode well for the deputy.
“Notice you got the sheriff to send the telegram,” Sam said.
“You sound surprised.”
“I just never suspected you had sweet talk in you.”
“I’ve hung around you long enough to pick up a few tips.”
“Maybe his new wife taught him something before he kicked her out,” Zacharias called.
“I didn’t kick her out.”
“Hell, Tracker, you’re right,” Sam mocked. “He probably doesn’t even realize he does it.”
“What’s that?”
“Kick people out of your life under the pretense that you’re protecting them.”
“The hell I do.”
“Didn’t take you long to get rid of us after you killed Archie,” Tracker stated quietly. There was something in his brother’s tone that snapped Shadow’s head around. He studied his scarred face. Hell, since when did Tracker get hurt?
“I’d just murdered a man in front of the army.”
“We could have handled the army,” Caine said.
“The hell you could.”
“Not after you ran.”
“You wanted me to stick around for the hanging?”
“We had a plan,” Caine snapped. “You didn’t even give us a chance to enact it.”
“I have trouble watching the people I love die.”
“But you expect us to watch you die,” Tracker cut in.
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“You have trouble being beholden,” Zach said from the other room.
Shadow bit the inside of his lip. This he hadn’t missed.
“So what’ve you been doing the last year, Shadow?” Caine asked.
“This and that.”
Sam grinned, gathering up some papers from a drawer. “We heard some of your ‘this and thating.’ Did you really get caught in bed with the mayor’s wife up there in Cheyenne?”
“I wasn’t technically in her bed.”
Folding the papers, Sam tucked them into his shirt. “It’s not like you to be unaware of your surroundings.”
“You haven’t seen the mayor’s wife.”
“Beautiful women were never your downfall.”
“Doesn’t mean they couldn’t be.”
“What I’m more interested in is how you got your own horses stolen from you,” Caine interjected.
“I had a bit too much to drink.”
“So you decided to steal them back?”
“I had a bit more.”
“And you got caught?” Caine asked with the relentless way he had of getting to the truth.
“That was the end of the bottle.”
“Hell, Shadow. What’s happened to you?” Sam asked.
“I killed a man.”
“You’ve killed plenty of men.”
“Unfortunately, I killed the one who had the ability to take it all away.”
Tracker stilled. “All what away?”
It was harder than he had expected to admit it. “My purpose.”
“You always had purpose, Shadow.”
No he hadn’t. He’d had a code he had lived by, pain he had reacted to and anger he had fed, but none of that was purpose.
“Time to go,” Zacharias interrupted. “Ida’s here.”
Shadow went to the window and looked out. Sure enough, Ida was coming around the corner. She pushed a cart laden with covered plates. “What has Ida got to do with this?”
“Ida is going to keep folks busy for us while we slip you out.”
“You involved Ida?”
“No. Ida involved herself. As soon as she saw Tracker, she demanded explanations and then demanded to be allowed to help,” Sam corrected. “She likes you. And believe it or not, she considers it her right to help you.”
“I don’t want her involved.”
Sam snorted and took the keys off the wall and tossed them to Tracker. “Get his sorry ass out of there before he does something else stupid.”
Shadow covered the lock with his hand. Tracker looked up, his expression impassive.
“There’s no going back if you do this.”
The muscles in Tracker’s jaw clenched and the scar on his cheek turned whiter. Tracker shoved his hand aside. “There’s no going forward if I don’t.”
Tracker had a beautiful wife and a child on the way. A future. If it were ever discovered he’d broken his brother out of jail, it would all disappear.
“You’ve got a family.”
A muscle in Tracker’s jaw twitched. “And you’re a part of it.”
“Not like this.”
The key turned carefully in the lock, making minimal noise. “Any goddamn way it comes, you’re my brother.”
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? The door opened with a soft creak. Shadow didn’t step through it.
“What about the deputy?” Shadow said.
“Let him play with the gallows while he can,” Tracker said. “He’s gonna have a rough day tomorrow when he has to explain why the guest of honor’s gone missing.”
“How
is
he going to explain that?”
“I don’t give a shit,” Tracker answered.
“You should.” Shadow didn’t want Tracker hurt because of him.
Shadow stayed put. Tracker glared at him, that stubborn set to his shoulders. Shadow wanted to hit him. Tracker had achieved the one thing they’d given up hoping for. A loving wife. A home. A place where he belonged. Security. And now he was throwing it away.
“I’m not worth it, brother.”
Tracker grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out, shoving him toward the door. “Shut the fuck up.”
Shadow spun around. “What the hell is your problem?”
Tracker matched him glare for glare. “You.”
Caine stepped between them, slamming his hands into their chests, separating them. “Now is not the time for this.”
He was right. Shadow reentered the cell and grabbed his hat and jammed it onto his head.
“Anybody see you come in?” Shadow asked.
“Nobody that’ll tell,” Caine said.
That didn’t mean anything. “They’re gonna suspect.”
Caine handed him his revolvers. “Can’t convict a man on suspicion.”
“Have you met the sheriff here? I’m not so sure.”
“He’ll be paid off.”
Hell’s Eight always paid their debts. Shadow fastened his belt, feeling more himself as he tucked the end through the buckle.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get out of here?”
He could tell Tracker was worried it was going to be “get a drink.”
Taking his sheathed knives from Caine, he answered, “I’m going to get a bath.”
“And then what are you going to do?”
Fei’s image came to his mind so vividly that he wanted to reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear, wrap his arms around her shoulders, kiss the worry from her eyes. From beyond the door, he could hear Ida yelling. The distraction had begun. He slid the last knife into the top of his moccasin.
“And then I’m going courting.”
S
HADOW
HAD
TO
WAIT
two days for the bath, and it looked as if it was going to be even longer before he could start courting. Colonel Daniels was not taking his escape well. After two days of riding in circles eluding the posse that wouldn’t quit, they’d finally camped for the night in a hollow about a day’s ride south of Fei’s claim and a day’s ride east of Barren Ridge. Rolling up his bedroll, Shadow looked to the east. Dawn was finally coming. The men were sitting around the fire in various stages of readiness. Sam was leaning back against a rock, hat pulled down over his eyes, eking out a few more minutes of sleep. Zacharias was sharpening his knife on a whetstone. Tracker and Tucker were repacking their saddle bags. Caine was sipping coffee. And Shadow was coming out of his skin. Somewhere out there was Fei. Alone and vulnerable, no doubt trying to attempt the impossible.