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Stephanie Quinter walked out the front door as Jessie pulled Rosebud to a halt.
Breathing hard, Jessie sucked in air before saying, "I need the boys."
"What's up?" Stephanie asked, stepping off the porch. Fighting the pain in her chest, Jessie said, "Kid's been arrested."
Stephanie's eyes grew wide. "Shit! Who'd he kill?"
"He didn't kill anyone!" She said. Why was she the only one who knew that fact?
"Then what's he been arrested for?" Russell stepped down from his horse. "Murder," he said.
"Shit!" Stephanie exclaimed.
"That he didn't commit!" Jessie glared at her brother. Russell nodded—a nervous little up and down head shake.
"Right."
Stephanie twisted her head, shouting behind her, "You boys get out here, now!"
Bug, the first out the door, popped the remains of a biscuit in his mouth.
"Hey, Jessie! What you doing here this morning?"
"Your brother's done killed someone," Stephanie said. Ready to snap, Jessie screeched, "No, he hasn't!" Skeeter stepped forward, around Hog and Snake.
"Who?"
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Jessie leaped off her horse, hitting the ground with a force that made her ankles burn.
"Damn it! Kid didn't kill anyone!" She ignored the pain and stomped forward.
The four boys and Stephanie took a step backwards. She thrust a finger at them. "Do you understand that?" They nodded.
"Then I don't want to hear it." Her eyes burned as she stared at each one. "Ever again!" They nodded again. Skeeter sidestepped, scooting behind Hog. She stopped his slither with a solid stare. "Skeeter, go saddle a horse, you have to go find a marshal."
"Huh? Me? What for?"
"Because Turley is trying to frame Kid, we need a marshal to override his authority."
"Override Turley?"
She glared at him. "Yes, a sheriff is elected by the town folks, but a marshal is appointed by the government." She straightened her shoulders, almost surprised by everything she'd learned reading Kid's books. And from Kid, books were nothing compared to the things he'd taught her...
"Really?"
She wasn't sure who asked the question and had to blink several times before her mind cleared. Her brows tugged at the skin between her eyes, she rubbed the area.
"Yes, really. Ride south to Sequoyah County, there's a new marshal's office there."
"All right, Jessie." Skeeter jumped from the porch to sprint to the barn.
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"Hog and Snake, you saddle up too," she said.
"Sure, Jessie. You want us to ride with him?" Hog asked.
"No, there's a man on a black horse you and Snake are going to find. He's the real killer, so take a gun." They glanced at one another before looking back to her. She almost chuckled. They were kind, gentle boys, and a tug in her chest made her recognize how much they'd come to mean to her. But it was time for them to grow up, become men.
"Russell knows what direction he took off, he'll ride with you."
"Ah, Jessie—" her brother started. She glared at him. It was time for him to grow up too.
"What?" she seethed.
His body stiffened. "Nothing." Bug stepped down from the porch and came to stand beside her. "What about me, Jessie? What can I do to help?" She looked into young, sad eyes. Of all the boys, he looked the most like Kid. Her heart tumbled, and she swallowed the lump in her throat.
"I need you to take clean clothes and food into Kid. Turley has him down in an old well. It's bound to be cold down there." Jessie had to stop talking. The lump had come back, it was too large to maneuver around.
"All right. I'll go saddle up too." She nodded. A light caress ran over her shoulder. Jessie glanced from the hand to the woman who owned it. A wide smile covered Stephanie Quinter's face.
"I knew I'd made the right choice, giving you to Kid." 250
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The tears behind her eyes tried to jump forward, but Jessie straightened her shoulders, pulling strength and determination from her core. She couldn't break down now—
she was a cattle baron's wife, and it was her job to protect her husband's assets, including his life. The potency of her fortitude kept the tears at bay.
"Yes, Stephanie, you made the right choice, and I thank you for it."
Stephanie wrapped her arms around Jessie. "It's 'Ma' to you."
A warm rush raced through her veins and at that moment Jessie realized she didn't just have a husband, she had a family. One she loved very, very much.
Stephanie stepped back, tilting her head toward the barn.
"The boys are ready. What I can do?" Jessie tipped her head toward the porch, the spot Stephanie had rushed to when she and Russell had galloped into the yard.
"Loan me your gun," she said.
With the double barrel shot gun tucked between her hips and the front swells of the saddle, she led the boys out of the yard and down the road to the ranch. She kept the pace fast, not allowing anyone the chance to speak. When they came to the first Y in the road, she nodded to Skeeter. He touched his hat and steered his horse down the southern path. The rest of them rode on, making a short trip of the long ride. Sammy met them before they rounded the calving pens. Without missing a step he swung around to run beside Rosebud back into the ranch yard. 251
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Jessie had already sent Hog, Snake, and Russell after the murderer, and was loading Bug's horse with a bundle of food, including several molasses cookies and a warm coat for Kid, when Joe rode up. He dismounted and walked toward her. She patted Bug's leg. "You remember everything I told you to tell Kid?"
"Yes, Jessie. You're here at the ranch. The boys are all home with Ma," he said.
"Good. Go on now."
The horse twisted and Bug used the reins to slap it across the rump. Dirt rose and small pebbles flew against her skirt as the horse took off. She turned to Joe and flipped her head toward the barn where several ranch hands meandered about.
"What are they doing?"
Joe squinted at the men with a confused looked. "I don't know. I didn't tell them to do anything when I left. Just took after you and Russell."
"Well, I suggest you tell them to get busy. We have a ranch full of cattle that need to be rounded up before winter sets in. Until Kid gets home we're a man short, therefore we don't have time to lollygag."
Joe looked at her. His eyebrows rose.
She lifted hers.
A smile touched his lips. "You're right, Mrs. Quinter. I'll get
'em movin'."
Jessie nodded a stiff, proud, rancher's wife nod and then turned to stroll into the house. Kid was right, she always had a choice. She could sit around and do nothing, whining, 252
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crying, and missing her husband with all her heart. Or she could find the real killer, keep the ranch running smoothly, and miss her husband with all her heart. By the third day, her determination was waning. The sun, turning the eastern sky a soft pink, would soon announce another morning without Kid at her side. Arms folded, she hugged herself, pressing her chin to her chest. Hog, Snake, and Russell had returned last night, having found no sign of a man or a black horse. She'd interrogated them, making sure they'd performed a thorough search and finally had to oblige they had. No campfires, no broken grass; nothing but empty gullies and barren plains for miles. Jessie lifted her head and after one last glance at the morning sky, moved across the room. The snap of the bedroom door closing behind her, echoed down the hall. She leaned her head back and lifted a hand to her chin. Of course the man wasn't anywhere near where he'd killed Montgomery. They'd been watching the cattle, their rustling interrupted by the men rounding up the young stock. She pushed away from the door and marched down the hall, rapping on the doors to the rooms she'd put the boys in the night before.
"Get up!"
Groggy eyes and tousled hair popped out from behind each door.
"Let's go," she said, moving to the wide staircase.
"What? What is it?" Russell asked. 253
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"I know where to find that man." She scurried down the steps, whistling for Sammy as her feet stepped off the last one.
* * * *
Kid lifted a leg over the rock wall of the well. The other one followed, a deep sigh left his chest when both feet settled onto the top soil. Relief at being out of the hell hole quickly turned to anger. He flipped around, hand stretched out, ready to grab Turley by the neck.
Turley took a step back and before Kid could move forward a solid grasp landed on his forearm.
"Whoa, up there, Quinter," George Hinkle said. Kid shook off the hold.
"I've been in that damn hole for three days, while this idiot sat around doing nothing to catch the real killer."
"Yeah, well, you're out now and Dickson and I are going after Buckley," Hinkle said.
"Buckley?"
"Yes, he was Montgomery's partner," another man said. Kid looked at the man. A round Marshal's badge, pinned to his chest, sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.
"Who are you?"
"Marshal Clyde Dickson," the man said, holding out his hand.
Kid shook it.
"You're the new Marshal stationed in Sequoyah County?"
"Yes," Dickson said.
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A loud huff sounded. All three men looked toward Turley, his expression clearly displayed he was the only one who didn't know about the appointment of a new marshal. Kid turned back to the other men.
"You know this Buckley?"
"Yup, another gunslinger. He and Montgomery worked for Hughes. He'd hired them to keep the rustlers from getting his cattle. Turns out, they were the rustlers. And that black horse you seen Buckley on is a prize stallion he stole from a rancher up by Abilene. The man's fit to be tied," Hinkle explained as he held out Kid's gun belt.
"Have you been tracking Buckley too, Marshal?" Kid took it and wrapped the leather around his waist.
"No, I haven't had a chance to go through all the warrants at my office yet. I had just arrived at my post when your brother showed up," Dickson said.
Kid's hands stopped, the leather lace wrapped around his knee went lax in his fingers.
"My brother?" He scanned the area. Near a trio of horses, Skeeter raised a hand in greeting.
"Yes, your wife told him I could override Turley's arrest, and let me tell you, I had no choice in riding over to investigate the charges." The Marshal let out a slight laugh. Not an irritated groan, but a friendly chuckle.
"Oh," Kid murmured as he finished tying the holster to his leg. Then the first part of the man's sentence resonated.
"My wife?"
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"Yes, and she was right. I do have the authority to override the local sheriff. And did, especially after everything Hinkle told me." The Marshal waved at Hinkle. Jessie, his sweet Jessie, full of wonderful, soft, warm kisses, and hot, passionate love, had known what to do. While he sat in the hole, racking his brain, she'd found the answer and acted. He'd thank her for it as soon as he arrived at the ranch—he'd thank her for saving his life.
"Thank God you arrived when you did, Dickson. I've been arguing with this blockhead since sun up. I would have ended up shooting him if you hadn't walked in when you did." Hinkle pointed to Turley.
George's voice pulled Kid back to the present. He slapped the man on the shoulder.
"You still can."
"You want me to arrest you again?" Turley slapped his hand on his gun, ready to draw.
Kid rolled his eyes. "Ah, hell, Turley I was just kidding." He turned, facing the local sheriff eye to eye. "When are you going to get over it?"
Turley squinted, pulling his eyes into tiny slits. Hinkle stepped closer. "Get over what? What's going on here?"
Kid let out a deep sigh. "Once, over ten years ago, I danced with his wife, Emma Sue at an Independence Day celebration. She wasn't his wife then, but it doesn't really matter. I wasn't interested in her, never have been, never will be. But for some reason, for years he's thought I'm head over 256
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heels in love with her and goes out of his way to make my life miserable because of it."
"That true, Turley?" George asked. Turley stiffened, his chin jutted forward. "Emma Sue tells it differently."
"What does she say?" Marshal Dickson asked.
"She say's he hounded her. Begging her to marry him," Turley said.
Pointing a finger at Kid, he continued, "How about all those times you've stopped by to see her?" Kid frowned. "What times?"
"Every time I'm out of town?"
"I've never stopped in to see her. Not once." Kid shook his head.
"What about last week?" Turley challenged.
"Last week? You know I haven't been to Nixon in well over a month," Kid answered. He almost felt sorry for the man. Emma Sue was clearly playing him.
Turley looked down, the toe of his boot scuffed at the dirt.
"I know."
"Malcolm," he said, stepping closer to the man. "I swear to you, I have never stopped in to see your wife, not when you were home, and not when you were out of town. You know me. Until I met Jessie, I didn't give a woman, any woman, a second glance." He smiled. "Hell, I still don't, Jessie's all I'll ever want, all I'll ever need." His chest tightened. Turley nodded.
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