Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3) (24 page)

“There’s no one to send, and with my job, I’m not able to ride out until dark. I’m sure he’s fine. It’s just that…” Her voice faltered as she considered her words. She didn’t believe all was well or someone from the ranch would’ve been spotted in town.

“Why don’t you check with the Pelletier men who are watching the prisoners? They may have heard from your father.”

“Thank you, Mr. Griggs. I believe I will.”

A man leaned against a wall inside the jail, talking to the men behind bars. Abby heard a burst of laughter as she closed the door.

“Good day, Miss Tolbert.” Travis Dixon said as she stepped closer.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Dixon. I didn’t recognize you.”

“Most people don’t since I shaved off my mustache.” He stroked the area above his upper lip. “If you came here to see Sheriff Evans, he’s off with the posse.”

“Yes, I know. Noah is with them.” She could feel warmth creep up her face at the way she spoke of him with such familiarity. “I came to ask if anyone from my father’s ranch has come to fetch the men.” She nodded toward the cells.

“No one. Either Rude or I have been here the entire time,” he said, referring to another of the Pelletier men. “You do know your father took a group of his men and rode after the rustlers before the posse took off, right?”

Her eyes snapped to his. “No, I did not.” Worry gnawed at her, knotting her insides as she thought of the implications of her father going after Drake. Both men were arrogant, believing they were above the law. Except, as far as she knew, her father had never actually broken the law as they suspected of Drake.

Travis could see fear glittering in her eyes and tension lining her face.

“Your father has lived out here a long time and knows the dangers. I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

Abby twisted her hands in front of her, knowing anything could happen when men searched for rustlers and bandits. Worry surrounded her each day since Noah had left with the others. She’d pushed it aside as best she could, believing in his skills and his ability to stay calm under dangerous conditions. She had to trust he’d come back to her alive.

Her father, though, was a different type of man. Smart and arrogant, he often let his pride control his decisions. More than once, she’d seen him almost come to harm when he let his sense of superiority rule over good judgment.

“I’m certain you’re right, Mr. Dixon. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Good day, Miss Tolbert. I’ll let you know if we hear from your father.”

Her steps back to the bank were labored and slow as fear wrapped around her. As much as she didn’t want to live with her father at the ranch, she didn’t want harm to befall him.

“Did you find out anything, Abby?” Sally saw her shoulders slump as she slipped off her wrap.

“Travis Dixon said he took a group of men and rode after the rustlers a couple days before the posse left. That’s why no one has seen him.”

Sally stood, putting an arm around Abby’s shoulders. “So now you have two men to welcome back when they return with that scoundrel who robbed us.”

Abby couldn’t help the amusement flickering in her eyes or the way her mouth tilted upward. “You’re right, Mrs. Phelps. I should be planning a special welcome.”

“That’s the way. It’s time to reopen the bank. You ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You believe I’m wrong?” Tolbert glared at Dirk.

“Yes, sir, I do. Seems best to head back to your ranch and set up guards. They’re after the cattle you keep in the small pasture. Why risk the men if we know Drake’s plans and can stop him?”

“Doing it your way means bringing in the sheriff. I don’t want Evans involved. This will happen my way. You can either go along with it or pack up and leave.”

Dirk narrowed his eyes, frowning at Tolbert. He knew the man held little value for legalities when it came to his own brand of justice. In this instance, Tolbert had a choice which could mean little chance of losing men while capturing the cattle rustlers. Nothing about Tolbert’s decision to confront Drake at his camp made sense. He couldn’t stay and be a part of the man’s madness.

“You’re a damn fool, Tolbert, and I won’t be a part of leading your men to possible slaughter.” He spun away and grabbed his gear. Within minutes, he’d secured his belongings and took off in the direction of Splendor, hoping to find Gabe and obtain help before Tolbert made a terrible mistake—one that would cost lives.

Tolbert paced around camp. He’d never expected Masters to take off. Few men defied his orders, most deciding to do what he required and keep their mouths shut. Now he had one less man to confront Drake and return the stolen cattle.

He glanced at the men sitting around the fire, knowing he had nowhere near enough to do the job without some of them dying. Still, he would not change his plans. A few losses were nothing compared to letting a man like Drake roam freely, stealing and killing. Someone needed to take care of him.

“We’ve located Drake’s camp and found where he’s holding the cattle. Tomorrow, we go after him and his men. I want you ready to leave at dawn.”

“What about Masters?”

“He won’t be going with us.”

“We’ll camp here, then split up in the morning.” Gabe nodded at Noah and the others for confirmation. He’d already explained how they’d continue their search, each group returning to this spot at nightfall. “If what Cash and Beau have learned is accurate, Drake has close to twenty men riding with him. Remember, we want to locate him, then plan how to confront and arrest them. No heroics, understood?”

“Understood, Gabe.” Bull wanted to get the man who’d almost killed him months before, but not if it meant any of the men around him would be hurt…or worse.

“Good. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day.” Gabe unsaddled Blackheart, placing the gear under a nearby tree, leaning his rifle against the trunk, then turning at the sound of footsteps.

“Mind if I pack down here?”

“Not at all, Noah.”

They lay out their bedrolls in silence, each grabbing jerky and hardtack before resting against their saddles. Noah took a long swallow from his canteen, glancing up at the bright stars and almost full moon, wondering about Abby and missing her.

“How’s it going with you and Abby?” Gabe asked, as if reading Noah’s thoughts.

“Good. Slow, which is as it should be.” Noah tore off another piece of jerky, chewing slowly, wanting to get the search over with and return to Splendor. He’d decided to talk with Tolbert about the property above town now, rather than wait for fall. If Tolbert agreed to sell, Noah could start designing the house he planned to build for Abby…and him.

“Do you plan to add onto the cabin?”

Noah’s gaze shifted to Gabe. “Nope.”

Gabe’s lips twitched. He knew Noah well enough to know he had plans, but wasn’t quite willing to share. “That so?”

“Yep.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. I might be able to arrange some time to help enlarge the place.” Gabe tipped his hat low over his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Within minutes, Noah heard soft snoring. Gabe had always been able to sleep anywhere, while he’d be more apt to lay there for hours, his mind refusing to shut down.

He thought of Tolbert searching for the same man, believing if he found him, Drake’s chances of ever making it back to Splendor for trial would be small. With a jury made up of his ranch hands, Tolbert’s brand of justice would be swift.

Noah rested an arm over his eyes, sending a silent prayer they’d find Drake, no one would die, and he’d be in Splendor by sundown.

“I spotted close to fifteen men in camp. Not good odds, boss.” Mal Jolly, one of the newer ranch hands, reported, believing Tolbert would call off the raid.

“Surprise is our chief weapon. We focus on Drake and capture him, then the others will surrender.”

“And the cattle? We can’t get the prisoners back to Splendor and herd the cattle at the same time.”

“I said nothing of transporting prisoners to town.” Tolbert spun around, facing the other men. “I want Drake. Nothing else matters as long as we get him.” He pulled out his revolver, checked the cylinders, then snapped it shut. “Let’s go.”

Mal’s stomach clenched. He’d fought as a Union soldier, never retreating. The word coward didn’t figure into his vocabulary, and no one would ever describe him as one, yet his mind whirled at the insanity of Tolbert’s order. Neither Drake nor his men would go down easy, which meant some of the men before him wouldn’t make it home. He guessed Dirk came to the same conclusion. No matter, though. He’d signed on to do a job.

Mal and the rest of Tolbert’s men positioned themselves as instructed and waited for their boss’ command. Drake’s men moved about, appearing restless, as if they’d stayed too long in one place. Not a good sign in Mal’s opinion.

He’d chosen higher ground with a view of those milling around the camp. Settling between two boulders, he watched Tolbert, who took a spot across from him, his gun pointed toward Drake. He glanced away, noting the positions of the other men, and grimaced as another internal warning pierced his gut.

An instant later, gunshots blazed from all directions, bullets missing Mal by inches as they slammed against the rocks. Movement to his left caught his attention. He aimed and fired, hitting one of Drake’s men in the chest. The cocking sound of a gun had him spinning to the right in time to get off another shot, this one planting itself in a shoulder, knocking the man to the ground. Mal grabbed the extra weapon and ducked behind the rocks, turning toward Tolbert’s last position at the same time he realized the shooting had stopped.

He took small steps backward, leaving the protection of the rocks in an attempt to get a better view of the camp. What he saw turned his stomach.

Tolbert knelt before Drake, falling one way, then another, as the man hammered him over and over with the butt of his gun.

“Stand him up,” Drake ordered. Lem and Archie grabbed Tolbert under each arm, steadying him. “You always thought you were better than the rest of us, old man. Guess it’s not true. Before I’m finished, I’ll own your ranch
and
your daughter. A shame you won’t be around to see any of it.”

With those words, Drake lifted his gun, centered it on Tolbert’s head, and pulled the trigger.