Black Ransom, page 27
Melinda summoned her optimism and spoke with a forced confidence. “’Less it’s Ehron Lee, and I can tell him … ’bout our son.”
Buck hesitated. Telling white lines framed his lips, and he responded with a short nod. He could not bring himself to tell Melinda, though by now she probably understood, that with each passing moment their hope of surviving this ordeal was fading.
There followed an ominous quiet, and they both waited apprehensively.
*
“The stink that coyote wore when alive ain’t gonna improve now that he’s dead,” Ward said as he coldly observed the body of the murdered judge. “Get that carcass outta here ’fore it starts a-molderin’ and really smells up the place,” he snarled at Ehron Lee, emphasizing his command with his revolver.
The young girl, Evaline, was tightly embracing her father’s corpse, oblivious to Ward’s cruel words. The eyelids were partly open, but though her fingertips gently touched them, she couldn’t quite bring herself to shut her father’s eyes, for that gesture meant forever and she was in denial of finality.
Ehron Lee kept his expression emotionless as he stepped over to Evaline and, at first, tried to gently urge the girl away from the body. She resisted, and in frustration, Ehron Lee finally took her with both hands by the shoulders and lifted her aside. She cried, screamed, and struggled, and even attempted to scramble back over once she was pulled free, but Ehron Lee met her with a threatening glare and she froze in position, recognizing the killer instinct reflected in his eyes. She timidly started to back away.
“Don’t take him too far, Burrows,” Ward said cautiously. “Just dump him out back. And get back in here quick.”
With Ward’s gun trained on him and the doubtless knowledge that another pull on the trigger meant nothing to the man, Ehron Lee proceeded to do as instructed, though he obeyed with neither a word nor a gesture of acknowledgment.
“Oh, and Burrows,” Ward said, casting a squinting eye toward George Watson, then shifting his spiteful gaze to the body of the superintendent’s wife. “When you come back, get rid of this, too.” He spoke specifically to Watson. “The buzzards can have ’em both. We’ll be long gone by then.”
“I’ll live to see you burn in hell, Crawford,” Watson said irately, his voice tremulous with hate, no longer concealing his rage.
“Ain’t expectin’ nothin’ less,” Ward returned in an unruffled tone. “Only ’fore that time comes, Superintendent, it’ll be you what’s waitin’ for me.”
Desperately, Watson turned his focus and vented his fury on Ehron Lee.
“What are you doin’ with this madman, Burrows?” he demanded. “You’re not of his kind.”
Ehron Lee halted. He twisted his head and looked at Watson contemplatively before his expression darkened, his head pumped full of blood. The reminder of why all this had to happen consumed him like the blaze of a fire reignited.
“No … I wasn’t,” he said, issuing his words with a series of heaving breaths. “Not until you … you and the judge here made me this way. And for however long you got left to live, you remember that. Carry it with you to your grave.”
Ward looked pleased, if still somewhat uncertain, at his partner’s apparent return to form. The man of prison-bred fury he had known and watched fester in his own private hell behind the walls of Rockmound.
“We followed rules, Burrows,” Watson said, his voice reasonable, adopting his professional tone. “Rules set by law.”
Ehron Lee’s eyes widened and were glazed with contempt.
“Set by law!” he challenged. “You treated us like vermin, you sonofabitch. Beat us, starved us, worked us worse than dogs. Then yuh took away our privileges. Rules? Them was rules set by you. Your own law, Superintendent Watson.”
“That’s the talk, Burrows,” Ward said with a vigorous nod of his head.
Ehron Lee’s mounting rage was mirrored by the restlessness of his physical action. He appeared so overwhelmed by the heated words he spewed that, as if propelled by a force outside himself, he edged away from the door, near which he had dragged the judge’s body, and inched closer toward Ward, who was observing and admiring his partner’s vindictive tirade.
Ehron Lee spun around toward Ward.
“Gimme the gun, Ward,” he implored. “After what that scum did to me, this one’s mine. Gimme the gun!”
Ward eyed Ehron Lee uncertainly. He liked what he was witnessing, but his instincts were still in doubt as to Ehron Lee’s sincerity. Then, at that moment—in that quick second when Ward was debating his trust in his partner—Ehron Lee made his own decision.
Positioned close to Ward, he seized his opportunity, taking advantage of Ward’s weakening defenses. Ehron Lee swung around, drew back his fist, and delivered a swift, hard punch to Ward’s jaw. Ward’s legs buckled and he dropped to the floor, on his knees with his head bowed, dazed and semiconscious, and Ehron Lee swooped down and quickly grabbed the gun from the loosened fingers. Then he glanced up at the dumbstruck George Watson.
He spoke a stony reminder. “Don’t think I didn’t mean any of what I said.”
Watson was stunned by Ehron Lee’s sudden, decisive move and could not respond beyond offering a vacuous nod.
Ehron Lee knelt down and reached into Ward’s pocket, searching for the keys to unlock the handcuffs confining Buck Leighton. Ward was moaning, still groggy and helpless. Ehron Lee took the keys and stepped quickly to the bedroom, where his wife and the marshal were held. He found himself pausing for a moment before he twisted the latch and pushed open the door. Once he did and was standing in the threshold, he allowed himself his first thorough look at Melinda, then he gazed into her startled, fearful, yet somewhat expectant eyes. The look they exchanged lasted only seconds and the connection was empty, seeming to forever solidify the separation that had come between them. Neither spoke; Ehron Lee just tossed the keys at her before he turned and walked back into the front room.
“Crawford’s a mad dog, Burrows,” Watson said. “He won’t be taken in alive, will fight you every step of the way, and there’s no point in you lettin’ him do so.”
“Talkin’ your law ag’in, Watson?” Ehron Lee said acidly. “Y’still ain’t got much to back it up with.”
Watson regarded the bindings that kept him helpless.
“I have no call to make decisions for you,” he conceded with a sigh.
Ehron Lee glared at him. “That’s right. You don’t.”
Still, Watson responded to the moment and drew in a hopeful breath.
He said, “All I can say is this, if you’re willin’ to listen. I saw what went on here. I know you didn’t kill anyone.” He turned his head toward the stricken Evaline. “Know as well as this girl that you turned ag’in Crawford to help us. Make the right choice now and I’m willin’ to stand by my word.”
Ehron Lee discharged an ironic laugh. “That kinda guarantee means nothin’ to me. ’Cause the way I see it, I got either prison or the hangman in my future.”
“I’ll back up his word, Burrows,” Buck Leighton said. He was standing in the hallway, massaging his hurt and bloodied wrist. Gradually a tentative Melinda followed him out of the room.
Ehron Lee shook his head. “People are dead ’cause of me. I ain’t gonna just walk away.”
Melinda broke in sharply. “Then ride outta here, Ehron Lee.”
His attention resting on his wife with eyes that were cold yet sad, Ehron Lee did not see the subtle maneuver of Ward, who, though feigning his posture, had regained his senses and whose hand was sliding toward his boot … withdrawing a small, sharp-edged knife, which, at the precise moment, he thrust into the back of Ehron Lee’s leg, slicing into an artery and drawing downward.
Ehron Lee barely suppressed a cry of anguish, but he grimaced and blanched and his body jerked reflexively as the blade continued to dig deeper into his flesh and now twisted against bone.
A grinning, yellow-toothed Ward started to his feet. He moved with as much agility as he was able, but Ehron Lee, despite the searing pain and his starting to lose his balance, managed to twist his body around, gun still lifted, the barrel of which came within nearly an inch of Ward’s head.
Their eyes locked and each displayed a different emotion: Ward’s coal black eyes were wide and apprehensive, yet expressing a subtle doubt that his partner would actually carry through with his action; Ehron Lee’s blue eyes were narrowed and, at that moment, confident … and it was Ehron Lee who made the only decision still left open to him.
He pulled the trigger.
Ward Crawford’s skull exploded as the bullet penetrated at close range. The outlaw toppled backward, stone dead. His expression registered the same look of shock and disbelief that had appeared on the faces of many of the people he had killed.
Another killing. Evaline Watson screamed—before her expression seemed to grow dull.
After seconds had passed, Ehron Lee let the gun drop numbly to his side. Only then did he raise his eyes back to Melinda. At the same time Cora started to stir from her unconsciousness. Her eyelids fluttered, opened blearily, but she didn’t immediately move from her supine position on the floor. Her tongue traced along her mouth and she instantly tasted blood. She raised an outstretched arm and wiped the back of her hand along the corner of her lips where the blood had started to congeal. When she recovered sufficiently, she half rose on an elbow, glanced over at Ehron Lee, who was down on one knee, and slid herself over toward him. Cora noticed the gaping wound at the back of his leg, which was spreading a pool of blood down from inside his trousers onto the floor.
She hastened to help, briefly halting when she caught sight of Ward’s lifeless body lying not far from her. Her mouth moved without any words coming out. Ward was beyond help, and she pulled herself together and once more displayed an obvious and troubled concern for Ehron Lee’s injury, which was immediately noticed by Melinda, who responded by unconsciously tightening her grip on Buck’s forearm.
Ehron Lee tried to discourage Cora’s attention by getting himself onto his feet.
“Don’t worry none ’bout me,” he said sternly. “Get some sheets from the bedroom and cover up them bodies.”
Cora gazed numbly at the corpses of Janette Watson and Judge Harrison.
“Ward killed ’em,” Ehron Lee told her. “Weren’t nothin’ I could do.”
Cora felt sick to her stomach as her eyes shifted from the two bodies to a traumatized Evaline and a distressed-looking George Watson. Realizing that it was cruel to leave the bodies of their loved ones exposed as they were, she hastened to do as Ehron Lee instructed.
In the meantime Ehron Lee kept his gun leveled on Buck.
“Your call now, Burrows,” Buck said, calm and unthreatened.
With a painful effort Ehron Lee took a few steps back, maintaining his advantage, before he focused on George Watson. His expression was intense and hinted gravely at what his next move might be. It was understood by all that Ehron Lee might want to close accounts and pay off the obligation he felt he still owed himself. Judge Harrison was dead. Watson was the last one left. What difference would it make to the situation if Ehron Lee wiped the slate clean? Debt paid in full. Nothing worse could happen to him.
Melinda stared at her husband with an expression of dread. She knew precisely what was going through his mind.
Ehron Lee’s eyes slowly veered back and forth between Melinda and Watson. The ensuing seconds were tense and uncertain.
Finally, the severity stamped upon Ehron Lee’s features dissolved into a look that suggested defeat. Although he still gripped the revolver aggressively, he popped a breath as he dropped himself onto a kitchen chair.
“What’s the point,” he muttered, punctuating his comment with another heavy exhale. With a jerk of his head, he gestured for either Buck or Melinda to release Superintendent Watson. It was Buck who complied.
Cora came back into the front room with coverings pulled from the beds. She had heard Ehron Lee’s words, saw his expression, and her face flushed with relief. After she gingerly laid sheets over the bodies of the dead woman and the judge, she hastened to fetch some cloth with which to fashion a bandage for Ehron Lee’s leg.
As Buck struggled with untying the rawhide ropes that bound Watson, he spoke to Ehron Lee.
“It ain’t too late, Burrows,” he said.
Ehron Lee focused on Melinda, a faint smile creeping over his lips. Melinda’s own smile twisted into a look of concern as she noticed the amount of blood draining from his wound. She started to step forward to assist Cora.
“No, you keep back,” Ehron Lee said quietly to her. Then he spoke to Cora. “It—it’s better to leave it this way.”
Cora responded abruptly and incredulously.
“You can’t wanta die,” she said as she knelt beside Ehron Lee and carefully prepared to bandage his leg. She grimaced as she examined the extent of his injury. The knife wound was long and deep and bleeding profusely; she didn’t know how much she could do.
Ehron Lee smiled weakly. “Ain’t my dyin’ so much. Just don’t wanta see Melinda dirtyin’ her hands on my blood.”
Melinda looked hurt and offended by Ehron Lee’s remark. Yet in a strange way she understood—understood why she was held back while this girl Cora was allowed to do whatever she could to tend to Ehron Lee’s wound.
Ehron Lee looked down at Cora while she worked on attempting to stanch the bleeding and said nothing.
It was then that Melinda finally spoke what she had avoided saying—words that, whatever their significance now, she could no longer withhold from him.
“You have a son, Ehron Lee. We have a son. A fine boy.” Her voice became apologetic. “I—should have told you sooner.”
Surprisingly, Ehron Lee didn’t much react beyond a slight lowering of his head. And then, for just a moment, he weakened.
“A son,” he murmured … before his hardness returned. “He never knew me. Better now if he doesn’t.”
Melinda looked pained, confused, at what she perceived as Ehron Lee’s harsh attitude.
She quickly offered, “I named him Charlie. The name we planned if’n it was a boy.”
“He’s got a right to know his father, Burrows,” Buck put in. “To know that whatever else went wrong, that you, his pa, risked your life to save ours.”
“Damn heroics,” Ehron Lee scoffed.
“You can’t ignore what yuh done,” Buck countered.
Ehron Lee didn’t want to hear any sanctified justification for what he’d felt he had to do. The way he saw it, there was no bravery involved; he was as much concerned with saving his own skin.
Once he saw that George Watson was untied, he said hastily, “Go on. All of yuh, just git.” Then he looked with compassion at Cora. “You, too, Cora. You was never really involved in this.” Finally, he regarded Buck with a determined expression. “You hear me, Marshal? If you owe me anything, you promise me that Cora here won’t be punished.”
Buck hesitated and he responded with a frown. He was a lawman, took his job seriously, and had a duty to perform.
Ehron Lee noticed his reticence.
“I want your word,” Ehron Lee demanded, once again raising his gun to amplify his point.
Buck ignored the threat; it was a hollow gesture and Ehron Lee knew it. Instead he briefly glanced at the girl and finally nodded. “You have my word.”
Cora grabbed on to Ehron Lee’s uninjured leg. “I ain’t leavin’ you.”
Ehron Lee looked ready to scold her before he responded with a benign smile. “There ain’t no sense in that,” he said.
She shook her head determinedly. “I’m stayin’. If you’re stayin’ behind, so am I.”
Ehron Lee hadn’t the strength to argue. He felt himself growing weak, becoming lightheaded and steadily losing his focus. But he did look across at Melinda, then struggled to release his eyes from her before he nodded in halfhearted acknowledgment of Cora’s stubbornness.
“I told yuh all to get outta here!” he repeated emphatically to the others.
Watson rose stiffly from the chair, keeping a cautious eye on Ehron Lee. He helped escort Evaline to the door before he halted. Evaline could no longer respond to all that had happened; the shock of what she’d experienced had thrust her beyond all comprehension. She had gone into a stupor where she no longer could rationalize or place significance on her situation or surroundings, including the body of her father. Watson, however, had shed all remnants of his professional demeanor as he looked with grief upon the sheet covering the lifeless form of his wife.
“She was a fine woman,” he muttered. “She … never … deserved this.”
There was nothing Ehron Lee could say, other than, “There’s horses out in the corral.”
Melinda held herself back. And then she stepped directly over to her husband and, gently cupping her hand over his, gazed tenderly at him, perhaps remembering. Cora had turned her head aside at Melinda’s approach but didn’t interfere with what she understood had to be shared between them.
“Come with us,” Melinda softly urged Ehron Lee.
Ehron Lee reluctantly met her gaze and, once he did, offered a small, sad smile.
“Melinda,” he said, carefully measuring his words. “We both know things can’t ever be as they was before. At the very least I’d be goin’ back to prison and I couldn’t go through that hell ag’in. Reckon if they hanged me, it would be for the best. But maybe … maybe if’n you’d like, just hold on to some of those better memories we once had.”
He gave a wink, and as his eyelid dropped, a single tear was released.
“I always have,” Melinda assured him, speaking over a lump in her throat and squeezing his hand as her own eyes glistened.
Ehron Lee sighed as he tried to regain his composure. “Reckon if anythin’, I’m glad we had this chance to … well, for me to know the truth. Can’t make up for what went on here, but least makes it easier for me. But you gotta go on makin’ that life for you and … and for young Charlie that you been buildin’ for yourselves.” He turned to Buck with a strained look. “And that’s one more favor you can do me, Marshal.”
Buck hesitated. Telling white lines framed his lips, and he responded with a short nod. He could not bring himself to tell Melinda, though by now she probably understood, that with each passing moment their hope of surviving this ordeal was fading.
There followed an ominous quiet, and they both waited apprehensively.
*
“The stink that coyote wore when alive ain’t gonna improve now that he’s dead,” Ward said as he coldly observed the body of the murdered judge. “Get that carcass outta here ’fore it starts a-molderin’ and really smells up the place,” he snarled at Ehron Lee, emphasizing his command with his revolver.
The young girl, Evaline, was tightly embracing her father’s corpse, oblivious to Ward’s cruel words. The eyelids were partly open, but though her fingertips gently touched them, she couldn’t quite bring herself to shut her father’s eyes, for that gesture meant forever and she was in denial of finality.
Ehron Lee kept his expression emotionless as he stepped over to Evaline and, at first, tried to gently urge the girl away from the body. She resisted, and in frustration, Ehron Lee finally took her with both hands by the shoulders and lifted her aside. She cried, screamed, and struggled, and even attempted to scramble back over once she was pulled free, but Ehron Lee met her with a threatening glare and she froze in position, recognizing the killer instinct reflected in his eyes. She timidly started to back away.
“Don’t take him too far, Burrows,” Ward said cautiously. “Just dump him out back. And get back in here quick.”
With Ward’s gun trained on him and the doubtless knowledge that another pull on the trigger meant nothing to the man, Ehron Lee proceeded to do as instructed, though he obeyed with neither a word nor a gesture of acknowledgment.
“Oh, and Burrows,” Ward said, casting a squinting eye toward George Watson, then shifting his spiteful gaze to the body of the superintendent’s wife. “When you come back, get rid of this, too.” He spoke specifically to Watson. “The buzzards can have ’em both. We’ll be long gone by then.”
“I’ll live to see you burn in hell, Crawford,” Watson said irately, his voice tremulous with hate, no longer concealing his rage.
“Ain’t expectin’ nothin’ less,” Ward returned in an unruffled tone. “Only ’fore that time comes, Superintendent, it’ll be you what’s waitin’ for me.”
Desperately, Watson turned his focus and vented his fury on Ehron Lee.
“What are you doin’ with this madman, Burrows?” he demanded. “You’re not of his kind.”
Ehron Lee halted. He twisted his head and looked at Watson contemplatively before his expression darkened, his head pumped full of blood. The reminder of why all this had to happen consumed him like the blaze of a fire reignited.
“No … I wasn’t,” he said, issuing his words with a series of heaving breaths. “Not until you … you and the judge here made me this way. And for however long you got left to live, you remember that. Carry it with you to your grave.”
Ward looked pleased, if still somewhat uncertain, at his partner’s apparent return to form. The man of prison-bred fury he had known and watched fester in his own private hell behind the walls of Rockmound.
“We followed rules, Burrows,” Watson said, his voice reasonable, adopting his professional tone. “Rules set by law.”
Ehron Lee’s eyes widened and were glazed with contempt.
“Set by law!” he challenged. “You treated us like vermin, you sonofabitch. Beat us, starved us, worked us worse than dogs. Then yuh took away our privileges. Rules? Them was rules set by you. Your own law, Superintendent Watson.”
“That’s the talk, Burrows,” Ward said with a vigorous nod of his head.
Ehron Lee’s mounting rage was mirrored by the restlessness of his physical action. He appeared so overwhelmed by the heated words he spewed that, as if propelled by a force outside himself, he edged away from the door, near which he had dragged the judge’s body, and inched closer toward Ward, who was observing and admiring his partner’s vindictive tirade.
Ehron Lee spun around toward Ward.
“Gimme the gun, Ward,” he implored. “After what that scum did to me, this one’s mine. Gimme the gun!”
Ward eyed Ehron Lee uncertainly. He liked what he was witnessing, but his instincts were still in doubt as to Ehron Lee’s sincerity. Then, at that moment—in that quick second when Ward was debating his trust in his partner—Ehron Lee made his own decision.
Positioned close to Ward, he seized his opportunity, taking advantage of Ward’s weakening defenses. Ehron Lee swung around, drew back his fist, and delivered a swift, hard punch to Ward’s jaw. Ward’s legs buckled and he dropped to the floor, on his knees with his head bowed, dazed and semiconscious, and Ehron Lee swooped down and quickly grabbed the gun from the loosened fingers. Then he glanced up at the dumbstruck George Watson.
He spoke a stony reminder. “Don’t think I didn’t mean any of what I said.”
Watson was stunned by Ehron Lee’s sudden, decisive move and could not respond beyond offering a vacuous nod.
Ehron Lee knelt down and reached into Ward’s pocket, searching for the keys to unlock the handcuffs confining Buck Leighton. Ward was moaning, still groggy and helpless. Ehron Lee took the keys and stepped quickly to the bedroom, where his wife and the marshal were held. He found himself pausing for a moment before he twisted the latch and pushed open the door. Once he did and was standing in the threshold, he allowed himself his first thorough look at Melinda, then he gazed into her startled, fearful, yet somewhat expectant eyes. The look they exchanged lasted only seconds and the connection was empty, seeming to forever solidify the separation that had come between them. Neither spoke; Ehron Lee just tossed the keys at her before he turned and walked back into the front room.
“Crawford’s a mad dog, Burrows,” Watson said. “He won’t be taken in alive, will fight you every step of the way, and there’s no point in you lettin’ him do so.”
“Talkin’ your law ag’in, Watson?” Ehron Lee said acidly. “Y’still ain’t got much to back it up with.”
Watson regarded the bindings that kept him helpless.
“I have no call to make decisions for you,” he conceded with a sigh.
Ehron Lee glared at him. “That’s right. You don’t.”
Still, Watson responded to the moment and drew in a hopeful breath.
He said, “All I can say is this, if you’re willin’ to listen. I saw what went on here. I know you didn’t kill anyone.” He turned his head toward the stricken Evaline. “Know as well as this girl that you turned ag’in Crawford to help us. Make the right choice now and I’m willin’ to stand by my word.”
Ehron Lee discharged an ironic laugh. “That kinda guarantee means nothin’ to me. ’Cause the way I see it, I got either prison or the hangman in my future.”
“I’ll back up his word, Burrows,” Buck Leighton said. He was standing in the hallway, massaging his hurt and bloodied wrist. Gradually a tentative Melinda followed him out of the room.
Ehron Lee shook his head. “People are dead ’cause of me. I ain’t gonna just walk away.”
Melinda broke in sharply. “Then ride outta here, Ehron Lee.”
His attention resting on his wife with eyes that were cold yet sad, Ehron Lee did not see the subtle maneuver of Ward, who, though feigning his posture, had regained his senses and whose hand was sliding toward his boot … withdrawing a small, sharp-edged knife, which, at the precise moment, he thrust into the back of Ehron Lee’s leg, slicing into an artery and drawing downward.
Ehron Lee barely suppressed a cry of anguish, but he grimaced and blanched and his body jerked reflexively as the blade continued to dig deeper into his flesh and now twisted against bone.
A grinning, yellow-toothed Ward started to his feet. He moved with as much agility as he was able, but Ehron Lee, despite the searing pain and his starting to lose his balance, managed to twist his body around, gun still lifted, the barrel of which came within nearly an inch of Ward’s head.
Their eyes locked and each displayed a different emotion: Ward’s coal black eyes were wide and apprehensive, yet expressing a subtle doubt that his partner would actually carry through with his action; Ehron Lee’s blue eyes were narrowed and, at that moment, confident … and it was Ehron Lee who made the only decision still left open to him.
He pulled the trigger.
Ward Crawford’s skull exploded as the bullet penetrated at close range. The outlaw toppled backward, stone dead. His expression registered the same look of shock and disbelief that had appeared on the faces of many of the people he had killed.
Another killing. Evaline Watson screamed—before her expression seemed to grow dull.
After seconds had passed, Ehron Lee let the gun drop numbly to his side. Only then did he raise his eyes back to Melinda. At the same time Cora started to stir from her unconsciousness. Her eyelids fluttered, opened blearily, but she didn’t immediately move from her supine position on the floor. Her tongue traced along her mouth and she instantly tasted blood. She raised an outstretched arm and wiped the back of her hand along the corner of her lips where the blood had started to congeal. When she recovered sufficiently, she half rose on an elbow, glanced over at Ehron Lee, who was down on one knee, and slid herself over toward him. Cora noticed the gaping wound at the back of his leg, which was spreading a pool of blood down from inside his trousers onto the floor.
She hastened to help, briefly halting when she caught sight of Ward’s lifeless body lying not far from her. Her mouth moved without any words coming out. Ward was beyond help, and she pulled herself together and once more displayed an obvious and troubled concern for Ehron Lee’s injury, which was immediately noticed by Melinda, who responded by unconsciously tightening her grip on Buck’s forearm.
Ehron Lee tried to discourage Cora’s attention by getting himself onto his feet.
“Don’t worry none ’bout me,” he said sternly. “Get some sheets from the bedroom and cover up them bodies.”
Cora gazed numbly at the corpses of Janette Watson and Judge Harrison.
“Ward killed ’em,” Ehron Lee told her. “Weren’t nothin’ I could do.”
Cora felt sick to her stomach as her eyes shifted from the two bodies to a traumatized Evaline and a distressed-looking George Watson. Realizing that it was cruel to leave the bodies of their loved ones exposed as they were, she hastened to do as Ehron Lee instructed.
In the meantime Ehron Lee kept his gun leveled on Buck.
“Your call now, Burrows,” Buck said, calm and unthreatened.
With a painful effort Ehron Lee took a few steps back, maintaining his advantage, before he focused on George Watson. His expression was intense and hinted gravely at what his next move might be. It was understood by all that Ehron Lee might want to close accounts and pay off the obligation he felt he still owed himself. Judge Harrison was dead. Watson was the last one left. What difference would it make to the situation if Ehron Lee wiped the slate clean? Debt paid in full. Nothing worse could happen to him.
Melinda stared at her husband with an expression of dread. She knew precisely what was going through his mind.
Ehron Lee’s eyes slowly veered back and forth between Melinda and Watson. The ensuing seconds were tense and uncertain.
Finally, the severity stamped upon Ehron Lee’s features dissolved into a look that suggested defeat. Although he still gripped the revolver aggressively, he popped a breath as he dropped himself onto a kitchen chair.
“What’s the point,” he muttered, punctuating his comment with another heavy exhale. With a jerk of his head, he gestured for either Buck or Melinda to release Superintendent Watson. It was Buck who complied.
Cora came back into the front room with coverings pulled from the beds. She had heard Ehron Lee’s words, saw his expression, and her face flushed with relief. After she gingerly laid sheets over the bodies of the dead woman and the judge, she hastened to fetch some cloth with which to fashion a bandage for Ehron Lee’s leg.
As Buck struggled with untying the rawhide ropes that bound Watson, he spoke to Ehron Lee.
“It ain’t too late, Burrows,” he said.
Ehron Lee focused on Melinda, a faint smile creeping over his lips. Melinda’s own smile twisted into a look of concern as she noticed the amount of blood draining from his wound. She started to step forward to assist Cora.
“No, you keep back,” Ehron Lee said quietly to her. Then he spoke to Cora. “It—it’s better to leave it this way.”
Cora responded abruptly and incredulously.
“You can’t wanta die,” she said as she knelt beside Ehron Lee and carefully prepared to bandage his leg. She grimaced as she examined the extent of his injury. The knife wound was long and deep and bleeding profusely; she didn’t know how much she could do.
Ehron Lee smiled weakly. “Ain’t my dyin’ so much. Just don’t wanta see Melinda dirtyin’ her hands on my blood.”
Melinda looked hurt and offended by Ehron Lee’s remark. Yet in a strange way she understood—understood why she was held back while this girl Cora was allowed to do whatever she could to tend to Ehron Lee’s wound.
Ehron Lee looked down at Cora while she worked on attempting to stanch the bleeding and said nothing.
It was then that Melinda finally spoke what she had avoided saying—words that, whatever their significance now, she could no longer withhold from him.
“You have a son, Ehron Lee. We have a son. A fine boy.” Her voice became apologetic. “I—should have told you sooner.”
Surprisingly, Ehron Lee didn’t much react beyond a slight lowering of his head. And then, for just a moment, he weakened.
“A son,” he murmured … before his hardness returned. “He never knew me. Better now if he doesn’t.”
Melinda looked pained, confused, at what she perceived as Ehron Lee’s harsh attitude.
She quickly offered, “I named him Charlie. The name we planned if’n it was a boy.”
“He’s got a right to know his father, Burrows,” Buck put in. “To know that whatever else went wrong, that you, his pa, risked your life to save ours.”
“Damn heroics,” Ehron Lee scoffed.
“You can’t ignore what yuh done,” Buck countered.
Ehron Lee didn’t want to hear any sanctified justification for what he’d felt he had to do. The way he saw it, there was no bravery involved; he was as much concerned with saving his own skin.
Once he saw that George Watson was untied, he said hastily, “Go on. All of yuh, just git.” Then he looked with compassion at Cora. “You, too, Cora. You was never really involved in this.” Finally, he regarded Buck with a determined expression. “You hear me, Marshal? If you owe me anything, you promise me that Cora here won’t be punished.”
Buck hesitated and he responded with a frown. He was a lawman, took his job seriously, and had a duty to perform.
Ehron Lee noticed his reticence.
“I want your word,” Ehron Lee demanded, once again raising his gun to amplify his point.
Buck ignored the threat; it was a hollow gesture and Ehron Lee knew it. Instead he briefly glanced at the girl and finally nodded. “You have my word.”
Cora grabbed on to Ehron Lee’s uninjured leg. “I ain’t leavin’ you.”
Ehron Lee looked ready to scold her before he responded with a benign smile. “There ain’t no sense in that,” he said.
She shook her head determinedly. “I’m stayin’. If you’re stayin’ behind, so am I.”
Ehron Lee hadn’t the strength to argue. He felt himself growing weak, becoming lightheaded and steadily losing his focus. But he did look across at Melinda, then struggled to release his eyes from her before he nodded in halfhearted acknowledgment of Cora’s stubbornness.
“I told yuh all to get outta here!” he repeated emphatically to the others.
Watson rose stiffly from the chair, keeping a cautious eye on Ehron Lee. He helped escort Evaline to the door before he halted. Evaline could no longer respond to all that had happened; the shock of what she’d experienced had thrust her beyond all comprehension. She had gone into a stupor where she no longer could rationalize or place significance on her situation or surroundings, including the body of her father. Watson, however, had shed all remnants of his professional demeanor as he looked with grief upon the sheet covering the lifeless form of his wife.
“She was a fine woman,” he muttered. “She … never … deserved this.”
There was nothing Ehron Lee could say, other than, “There’s horses out in the corral.”
Melinda held herself back. And then she stepped directly over to her husband and, gently cupping her hand over his, gazed tenderly at him, perhaps remembering. Cora had turned her head aside at Melinda’s approach but didn’t interfere with what she understood had to be shared between them.
“Come with us,” Melinda softly urged Ehron Lee.
Ehron Lee reluctantly met her gaze and, once he did, offered a small, sad smile.
“Melinda,” he said, carefully measuring his words. “We both know things can’t ever be as they was before. At the very least I’d be goin’ back to prison and I couldn’t go through that hell ag’in. Reckon if they hanged me, it would be for the best. But maybe … maybe if’n you’d like, just hold on to some of those better memories we once had.”
He gave a wink, and as his eyelid dropped, a single tear was released.
“I always have,” Melinda assured him, speaking over a lump in her throat and squeezing his hand as her own eyes glistened.
Ehron Lee sighed as he tried to regain his composure. “Reckon if anythin’, I’m glad we had this chance to … well, for me to know the truth. Can’t make up for what went on here, but least makes it easier for me. But you gotta go on makin’ that life for you and … and for young Charlie that you been buildin’ for yourselves.” He turned to Buck with a strained look. “And that’s one more favor you can do me, Marshal.”
