The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2 (21 page)

They had put her into some sort of wagon. Caldwell’s cruel chuckle had reached her ears, and the sound incited her to struggle in earnest. But no matter what she did, she wasn’t able to get loose. In fact, the rope grew tighter each time she struggled.

Now she lay helplessly in the back of the wagon with her eyes closed, heart pounding, praying that somehow Jedidiah had seen what had happened. That he would come after her. At this point, hope was the only thing keeping her sane.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only about twenty minutes, the wagon lurched to a stop.

“This looks like a good place,” she heard Caldwell say.

Rough hands closed around her arms and legs, and she was unceremoniously hauled from the back of the wagon and shoved to the hard ground. Someone sliced the rope that bound her ankles, but left her wrists bound behind her. Hands jerked her up to her knees, and the sack was swept from her head.

Caldwell stood before her, his lips curling in a grim smile. Everything about the man was pudgy: his fingers, his body, even his lips. And his brain, Susannah thought. Grief had obviously driven the man mad.

“Well, well, how the mighty have fallen,” he sneered. “You’ve cost me a lot of time and trouble, missy.”

Still gagged, she glared at him.

He laughed. “If looks could kill, I do believe I’d be a dead man,” he said to his companions. “Take the gag off. Let’s give the little lady a chance to beg for her life.”

His henchmen stood on either side of her. One was a tall, skinny fellow with stringy black hair and breath that smelled like last night’s whiskey, and the other was a shorter, ruddy-faced cowhand with huge biceps and straw-colored hair. The tall one reached down to jerk the bandana down around her neck. She spit out the nasty-tasting rag. It landed near the toe of Caldwell’s expensive shoe.

“Now beg for your life,” he commanded, a smile playing about his lips. “Maybe I’ll be merciful.”

“I’m not going to beg,” she replied, her voice raspy and her mouth dry from the gag. “And I didn’t kill your brother, Mr. Caldwell.”

“Give the gal a chance, and she chooses to lie.” Caldwell shook his head and made a tsking sound. He took a step closer and grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking her face back with an abruptness that made her gasp. "Now you do what I tell you, and never mind the lies. Everyone knows there was only one woman there that night, and that was you.”

Everyone knows there was only one woman there that night?
A strange way to put it, Susannah thought.

“I didn’t do it,” she insisted, knowing it was no use.

“String up the lying bitch up,” Caldwell ordered, releasing her with a careless shove. “Maybe she’ll be in a begging mood with a rope around her neck.”

“No!” Susannah cried out, digging in her heels when the two accomplices started to drag her toward a nearby tree. “Don’t do this! Let the jury decide!”

“Out here we make our own justice,” Caldwell said, folding his arms across his chest as one of his men tossed a rope over the sturdy branch of the tree he had chosen. “An eye for an eye, Miss Calhoun.”

The rope flipped over the branch, dropping the knotted noose to hang suspended before her eyes. Her stomach lurched. This man intended to kill her. And it looked as if he would succeed in doing so.

Where was Jedidiah?

The taller of Caldwell’s cohorts came to stand before her. He took the noose and slipped it over her head as his partner held her arms.

The stout rope fell across her collarbone. Her heart was pounding, her head growing light from fear. This couldn’t be happening, she thought frantically, as the tall one scooped her hair out of the noose. Her life couldn’t end here in the middle of nowhere at the whim of an unyielding, mad-with-grief lunatic.

The noose tightened around her neck, the roughness of the rope scraping the vulnerable flesh.

“Fetch that wagon,” Caldwell ordered. “She can stand on it.”

The dark-haired man jogged over to the wagon, a decrepit old thing made of faded wood and rusted wheels that read “D. Kane, Blacksmith” on the side. He hopped aboard and clucked to the tired-looking mule that was hitched to it. Slowly the animal ambled forward, the wagon wheels crunching over the dirt and grass like a funeral dirge.

These were her last moments on Earth.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and her pulse pounded in her ears as she took in the world around her for perhaps the last time. A breeze caressed her face and brought the scent of wildflowers to her nose. The trees and the grass looked so green, and puffy white clouds drifted lazily by against a sky of startling blue. The sun flickered through the leaves to warm her face as the wagon rolled to a stop in front of her. The shorter fellow gave a rough jerk at his end of the rope, which she took as a hint to climb into the back of the wagon.

The world was too beautiful a place to be marred by such ugliness, she thought as the taller man helped her clamber up with a jerk to her bound arm. She would never have the chance to grow old, never have the opportunity to watch her children grow. She’d never again watch the seasons change or enjoy the scent of fresh-baked bread.

“Sure you don’t want to beg a little, missy?” Caldwell taunted, interrupting her bittersweet thoughts. “My brother didn’t get that chance.”

“How do you know?” She stared down at him, the breeze stirring her long hair, her spine schoolmarm straight. “I bet your brother’s murderer laughed at his pleas for mercy before killing him, just like you intend to do to me.”

Caldwell’s face flushed red. “That was murder, Miss Calhoun. This here is justice. There’s a big difference.”

“It’s still the taking of a life, Mr. Caldwell, no matter how you look at it.”

 
Caldwell took out a cigar and lit it. “You got any last words that aren’t preachy?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Do you have any cigars that don’t stink?”

“You’re pretty uppity for a gal who’s gonna die.”

She shrugged. “I have no regrets.”

“Tell it to your maker. Do it!” he snapped, clamping his teeth down on the stogie.

She braced herself, but she refused to give in to the urge to shut her eyes. She would not leave this world like a coward.

The wagon creaked as the black-haired one got up into the driver’s seat.

She
did
have regrets—and one especially that stood out from all the rest.

She had never told Jedidiah that she loved him.

How ironic that she should admit the truth to herself now, when she would never have the chance to enjoy it. Never again would she look upon his face, see that crooked smile or the way his brows peaked when he was amused. Never again could she indulge in the banter they both enjoyed, that verbal courtship that went so far beyond mere words. She would never have the chance feel what it was like to make love with him.

 
She wished she could turn back time, go back to that day by the river and show Jedidiah Brown just how much she loved him.

“Heyah!” the tall man called, snapping the reins. The mule started forward. The rope tightened around her neck, and she gasped for breath.

She had expected death to be quick, but the mule didn’t cooperate. Instead of taking off at a gallop, the stubborn beast ambled forward at a slow walk, despite the driver’s fluent cursing. Susannah walked backward in the bed of the wagon, managing to steal another few moments of life, despite Caldwell’s plans.

The back of the wagon bumped her calves.

She thought of her pregnant sister, and the niece or nephew she would never see. Of her mother. She remembered the way Jedidiah made her feel as if she were more than she had ever thought she was, more than she ever thought she could be.

She managed to get her feet up on the back end of the wagon. The rope tightened around her neck, and breathing grew difficult. In another second she would have nothing to stand on, and Caldwell’s associate would hold the rope taut until she died.

If she could only do it all again, she thought desperately as dark spots floated before her eyes, she would cherish the gift of love instead of running from it.

Then her feet slipped off the edge and into nothingness.

Chapter Fifteen

Jedidiah’s heart raced, and the chill of true fear kept his jaw tight and his eyes cold. He galloped hell for leather toward the copse of trees in the distance, Nate and a couple of his deputies following along behind.

It had been the silver-haired barkeep who had seen what had happened to Susannah during the fight. The old man had been looking out his window and witnessed her abduction by two rough-looking men. He also remembered seeing those same men the night before in his saloon, in the company of a rich fellow who answered Caldwell’s description. It hadn’t taken much deduction to realize that Caldwell intended to finish what he had started back in Silver Flats.

The mere thought made Jedidiah want to forget his upbringing and tear the town apart in his search for Caldwell. Damn it, he should never have left her alone. However important it was to find Mrs. Hawkins, Susannah’s safety was paramount.

He didn’t even try to pretend it was just duty anymore. Somehow she had gotten under his skin. He cared, much more than he ought to.

And the thought of losing Susannah forever scared him more than anything he’d ever known.

He galloped over the rise and pulled his mount up sharply. His heart seemed to stop in his chest.

Susannah, silver-blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight, with a rope around her neck, stepped into nothingness as the wagon that had been her foothold suddenly pulled away.

“
No!
” he roared. He kicked his horse into a gallop, pulling his gun from its holster.

His gunshot echoed off the mountains around them.

Surprise twisted the features of the man holding the rope as a burst of crimson bloomed on his chest. The rope slipped from his fingers, and Susannah landed on the ground with a thud and lay still.

Caldwell turned at the disruption, his cigar dropping from his mouth as he saw Jedidiah thundering toward him. He ran to his horse and mounted faster than Jedidiah would have given him credit for, then spurred the horse to flight.

Nate and one of his deputies headed after the fleeing Caldwell. The other deputy raced to intercept the tall, skinny man who was running for the trees. Jedidiah pulled his horse to a skidding stop and dismounted to kneel beside Susannah’s limp body.

She had only been hanging for a second, but if her neck had broken…

Gently, he slipped the fingers of both hands between the rope and her throat. Her pulse fluttered against his knuckles. He sagged with relief, then took a deep breath and pulled, loosening the noose. An angry red welt encircled her throat where the rope had rubbed the delicate skin raw.

“Susannah,” he whispered, following the mark with trembling fingers, pressing cautiously to test for anything broken or out of alignment. “Susannah, can you hear me?”

Slowly she opened her eyes. She took a deep breath, then winced. “I feel like I fell off a horse,” she whispered.

The utter joy and relief that flooded through him brought the sting of tears. Manfully, he blinked them back. “I thought you were dead,” he said, his voice rough with the emotion he couldn’t hide. “I thought we were too late.”

She brought a hand to her throat, her fingers shaking as she traced the rope still encircling her neck. “Try not to cut it so close next time,” she said, her voice raspy.

“I’m not leaving you alone again,” he vowed. “Didn’t I tell you what would happen?”

She gave a laugh, then winced.

“Don’t try to talk,” Jedidiah advised. “Can you sit up?”

He placed his hand behind her head and helped her into a sitting position. Then he gently lifted the noose from around her neck and tossed the rope aside.

“Where’s Caldwell?” Susannah asked, gingerly turning her head to look around at the deserted countryside.

“He skeddadled out of here like the skunk he is,” Jedidiah replied. “Nate went after him.”

“He’s not right in the head, Jedidiah,” she said, feeling her bruised throat.

“I know it.” Getting to his feet, he bent forward and scooped her into his arms.

She let out a surprised squeal and flung her arms around his neck. “Where are you taking me?”

He grinned, rather liking the way she clung to him. “Back to Nate’s house. We’re going to stay there tonight, and
you’re
going to see a doctor.”

“I blacked out from lack of air, but it was only for a minute. I am capable of walking,” she pointed out.

He tightened his arms around her. “Maybe I just need to hold you, Suzie,” he said, using her family nickname.

She gave him one startled glance, but what she saw in his eyes apparently reassured her. Her mouth curved. “All right, then.”

Nothing more needed to be said as Jedidiah carried her towards his horse.

Death had a way of changing one’s outlook on life.

Susannah stood at the window in the guest room of the Stillman house. Garbed only in a white cotton nightgown—which only fell only to mid-calf because it was Darcy’s—she stared out at the night and thought about her brush with death that day.