Hope, page 23
part #3 of Brides of the Rio Grande Series
“I’m going to tell you again. Let me go.” She tried to jerk away but he held on, his fingers biting into her skin.
“What are you going to do about if I don’t.”
Billy had been awake since early morning. He waited for Hope to come to check on him so they could talk. But, when he heard Doc Howard come get her because Mrs. Randolph had gone into labor, he knew she would be occupied downstairs for most of the day.
He managed to get himself out of bed and dressed. The pain in his ribs wasn’t as severe as it had been the day before so he made his way one step at a time down the stairs to the first floor. He heard pots and dishes clattering from the kitchen somewhere toward the back of the house. A woman dressed in a white apron rushed down the hall toward him.
“Do you know where Miss Anderson is?” he asked as she rushed by with a steaming pot of hot water.
“No, sir. I don’t,” she answered, never slowing down. He watched her disappear down the hall and into a doorway. He followed.
He stuck his head inside the room and saw Doc Howard at the desk in the corner. He realized too late there was a woman in the bed. “I’m so sorry. I was looking for Hope.”
Doc Howard met him at the door. “Billy, it’s good to see you up and around this morning. How are those ribs feeling? Any trouble breathing?”
“I’m fine, Doc. I’m looking for Hope. Have you seen her? I need to—you know, talk to her like we talked about last night.” Billy sent the doctor a look hoping to convey how important it was. “I know you need her to help with Mrs. Randolph’s delivery. I promise not to keep her long.”
The man nodded his understanding. “Mrs. Randolph’s babies will be a while so you have some time. I sent Hope out to the barn to bring in my other medical bag. You should find her there.”
Billy thought about going back upstairs and grabbing a coat, but he didn’t want to waste one minute of the time he had to talk to Hope. He had a lot of explaining to do. He just hoped she was of a mindset to listen.
He stepped outside into the bright sunlight. It warmed his clothing and felt warm against his skin, but the wind was quick to chill. He was grateful the barn was only a few yards from the main house and he entered it expecting to see a lot of activity. Instead it was eerily quiet. A barn that size should have been a beehive of activity, but when he passed the tack room on the way to find Hope, he saw the reason why.
An early morning poker game captured the attention of at least eight men, and those not in the game gathered around them.
“Has anyone seen Miss Anderson?” he questioned the men playing cards.
“Nope. Don’t know no Miss Anderson. Check inside the house?” The man speaking laid down his hand. “A full house. Now ain’t that something?” His declaration was met with moans and cheers. Billy watched him pull the money in the middle of the table to him.
“No, Miss Anderson arrived last night. In the wagon. With me and the doctor. You sure you haven’t seen her this morning? Doc said she came out here to get his medical bag,” Billy asked again.
“Nope. Ain’t seen no women come to the barn, but if you’re looking for that big freight wagon that arrived late yesterday, it’s parked in the back with the Randolph carriages. Straight back that way.” The man pointed in the direction of the wagon. “Now, boys. Ante up. I’ve got a lucky streak and daylight’s a burnin’.”
Billy didn’t linger. He walked as fast as his bruised ribs would allow toward where the man had told him the wagon was parked. He heard a muffled voice and stopped to listen. He thought he must be suffering from the effects of Doc’s pain medicine because he swore he voice he heard was Bobby’s. But that was—impossible.
Billy walked down the center aisle until he was close enough to see where John’s freight wagon was parked. It was then he saw his worst nightmare come to life. There stood his no good son-of-a-bitch brother and he had Hope pinned against the wall of a stall, his hands roaming her body as if he had the right. Billy saw red.
“Take your filthy hands off of her, you low life piece of trash.” Billy’s anger threatened to take control. He needed to control of his anger or Bobby would use it against him. His brother fed on a person’s weakness and Hope was Billy’s.
“Well, well. Looks like my little piss ant brother is finally awake. Had a little accident I see with all them scrapes and scratches on your face. Or maybe you and the little miss here had a rough night of fun. Maybe I’ll have a go at her.”
“Just let her go, Bobby. She means nothing to you.” Billy was careful to keep his eyes on Bobby and not look at Hope.
“You’re right about that, you little piss ant, but she means something to you and that’s all that matters.”
Bobby jerked Hope against his body using her as a shield, his arm tight around her neck. He pulled his side arm and pointed it at Billy. Billy had left the house without his guns. He hadn’t come prepared to fight, but he wasn’t backing down, not with Hope’s life in danger. He needed to get the ranch hands’ attention. But how?
“Why are you even here, Bobby? Shouldn’t you still be in Creede tormenting the women and scaring the children?”
Billy stared in the eyes of the man responsible for tormenting him most of his life. He hated him with every fiber of his being, but he wasn’t afraid of him. Not anymore.
“Seems I run outta luck yesterday and the Sheriff Grayson come looking for me. He told me when I first come to town, he was gonna find out why I was back so soon after murdering that fool cripple in the wheel chair. It took some time, but he figured out that I escaped from that shithole prison and killed me a couple of guards. Done went and ruined the warden’s perfect record. Now ain’t that a shame. None of it was my fault. They shoulda just let me go.”
“No, of course, not Bobby. Nothing is ever your fault.” Billy couldn’t keep his sarcasm at bay, but when he saw the ugly look on his brother’s face and the pained looked on Hope’s when he squeezed her a little tighter, Billy regained control of his senses and focused on getting Hope free of Bobby’s clutches before he hurt her. Then Billy would kill him.
“Bobby, you are taking a big risk holding Hope against her will. There’s twenty men playing cards inside the tack room just down that hall. You want to go back to prison?”
Billy saw the cruelty in Bobby’s eyes. “I’m going back to prison anyway. Don’t matter much what for now does it? I’m a dead man anyway. Doc Howard knows it. I been sick for a while and ain’t nothin’ nobody can do about it. Besides, that damned lawman and his posse were trackin’ me down. The snow storm slowed ’em down and wiped out my tracks so it’s gonna take ’em the better part of a day to figure out which way I went and then follow. By then, me and this little missy will be long gone.”
Billy needed to figure out how to convince Bobby to go and leave Hope behind. “You are gonna need money, Bobby. The Randolphs have money. I’ll get it and you’ll have plenty of money to get you all the way to Mexico. Take a couple of good, fast saddle horses. You’ll be in Mexico within the week. Maybe sooner. Ain’t that better than dying today?”
Bobby sneered. “I don’t need no damn money. I robbed them whores at the Holy Moses outta their whiskey money. Took all the cash from the drawer and stole a horse tied outside. That stupid bitch behind the counter tried to stop me, but I plugged her. She had a stupid surprised look on her face when she fell. I’m goin’ back to prison no matter what happens here. I might as well have my fun with this one until then, dontcha think?”
Billy’s heart hiccupped at his brother’s words. “You killed Charlotte?”
“Probably. She didn’t look none too good last I saw her.” Bobby’s mouth stretched across his face in a wicked thin slash. “Ah, that’s right. You have a hot spot for that whore too, don’t cha? Did you tell this little miss about all your after hour visits to the woman’s bedroom over at the Holy Moses Saloon? Don’t you think she has a right to know about that, Billy Boy.”
Billy’s heart thudded in his chest. He hesitated to answer because he needed time to think and that was Bobby’s cue to drive the knife home.
Bobby laughed. “That’s what I thought. You didn’t tell your little woman here that on those nights you left her bed, you ran right over to the Holy Moses and warmed the bed of ole’ Charlotte. Hey, I might be a little bit impressed with your swordsmanship, little brother, but then again, does it matter which whore you screw? The one upstairs over the Holy Moses or this one here.”
The look on Hope’s face kicked him in the gut so hard he couldn’t pull air into his lungs.
“Shut up, Bobby.” Billy’s anger grew along with his despair. He would make Bobby pay for this. He would kill him if it took his last breath to do it, but he had to save Hope first.
Bobby’s words hung in the air, but he wasn’t finished spewing his poison yet.
“Ask him, Miss Anderson. Ask him where he was a couple nights ago. While you was warm and safe in your bed alone, ask him where he was and what he was doing and who he was doing it with? Go on, ask him,” Bobby pushed.
“It doesn’t matter what he was doing,” Hope said. “Billy and I don’t mean anything to each other. He’s a free man.”
The hurt on Hope’s face stabbed him in the gut. A barn door slammed somewhere at the other end of the barn.
“Just let her go, Bobby,” Billy pleaded. “Let her go and take a horse and get out of here. I’ll make sure nobody follows you.”
“Oh, I’m gonna take a horse. And I’m gonna take her too. She looks like a lot of fun and she’s soft in all the right places.”
Billy watched Bobby’s arm loosen its hold around Hope’s neck and his hand roamed down to squeeze her breasts. Billy’s anger punched at his chest to get out, but Billy held it in check with every ounce of control he could muster. He had to control his anger or he would get Hope killed.
“That’s what I thought. Ole Billy Boy might not mean anything to you, but you shore do mean something to him.” Bobby grinned at him. The meanness in his eyes sent Billy a message. He was going to use Hope to hurt him and if he didn’t think of something to stop him, he would lose Hope forever.
“Bobby—”
“Shut up. Saddle them two horses over there. Me and this pretty little miss are gonna ride outta here and have us some fun.”
“I won’t do it. I’m not gonna let you take Hope out of here because I know what you’ll do to her. I won’t let you do it.”
“I’m gonna plug you full of holes, you little bellyaching brat. Now, do what I say or I’ll put a bullet in her head. And then I’m coming after you, little brother.” Bobby snarled and moved the barrel of his gun from him to Hope’s temple. Billy’s breath leached out of his body. He had to think of something, but what? He had to stall Bobby until somebody in this ranch decided to go to work.
Billy forced himself to relax. “No you won’t. You’re like a cat toying with a mouse. You don’t want to kill either one of us yet. Not until you’ve had your fun. Now if you want those horses saddled, you’re gonna have to do it yourself.” Billy was praying Bobby didn’t decide to kill them both and ride out to take his chances. He gambled on both their lives because he thought he knew his brother.
Bobby laughed, but there was no humor there. “Well, suddenly my snot nosed little brother grew a pair.” He pushed his gun barrel harder against Hope’s head and Billy saw the fear in her eyes as the hard cold steel made impact.
“Now, walk before I get tired of playin’ this game.” Bobby demanded and nodded his head toward the end of the barn where the saddle horses were kept. “I. Said. Walk.” He cocked the hammer on his gun and pointed it at Hope’s head again. Billy knew one wrong move and Hope would be dead. So, Billy walked.
Bobby and Hope were behind him so he walked toward the stalls where the saddle horses hung their heads over their stall doors waiting for their morning breakfast. His eyes roamed the dark stalls trying to find something to use as a weapon. A hay rake hung on two nails outside one of the stalls. By the time he reached for it, he’d be dead. Bobby’s gunshot would bring the others, but not in time to keep Bobby from killing Hope too. So, he kept walking.
He reached the first horse’s stall. He looked fit and fast. Billy moved on to the next stall. It was an older horse and moved around the stall with a slight limp. He opened the gate and began to saddle the horse, taking as much time as he dared.
Billy shot a look to Hope who was still in the clutches of his hated brother and that gun of his still cocked and up against Hope’s head. A noise at the other end of the barn made Bobby nervous. He pushed Hope in front of him into the stall with Billy and closed the door behind them. “You keep your damned mouths shut or you’ll both be dead before the first one hits the floor.”
The footsteps grew nearer and Bobby backed them both into the corner. His eyes sent a silent message to Billy. Make a sound and she’s dead. Billy had no intention of putting Hope in harm’s way.
“Hope?” A voice called out. It was Doc Howard’s voice. “Hope? Billy?”
Billy stood stock still hoping the man didn’t decide to open the stall door because if he did, he would be a dead man and then Bobby would kill Hope and then him. The doctor paused in front of the stall next to their hiding place. Billy’s heart pounded in his ears. He could barely breathe and it was then he realized he was holding his breath. Ever so slowly, he released the captured air in his lungs. He sent a silent message to the doctor. “Please, Doc. Don’t open that door.” Another minute or so passed and the doctor retraced his steps until the barn was once again quiet.
Bobby pointed the gun at him. “Now get that damned horse saddled. And no funny business.”
Billy finished cinching the horse’s saddle. He draped the horse’s bridle over the horse’s head. With one horse down and one to go, Billy was running out of time.
“Bobby, just take this horse and go. Hope will only slow you down. She’s a city girl. I don’t even know if she knows how to ride a horse. The law will catch up to you by sundown and you are going to die. Is it more important to torment me than it is to live? Are you willing to die just to see me suffer?”
He could see Bobby’s mind churning. He knew his brother wasn’t a rational person, but he hoped he still had an ounce of self-preservation intact. An ounce was all Billy needed.
“Bobby, Hope and I are finished. She hates me as much as you do. There’s nothing you could say to her that would make her hate me more than she does already.”
“Well, how about we tell her what really happened that night Lizzie Malone died just to make sure there ain’t no comin’ back from that.”
“Damn it, Bobby. There’s nothing to be gained by talking about Lizzie’s death. No good can come of it.”
Bobby sneered at him, shoving Hope aside and turning on him. “No good can come of it? It was your fault she fell down those damned stairs. She died because you stuck your nose into business that wasn’t yours. You shoulda kept your nose out of it, Billy. But you didn’t. And now Lizzie and my son is dead.”
“Then you should have kept your mouth shut, Bobby,” Billy shot back at him. “You knew John Malone was my friend. My best friend. Did you think I was gonna let you brag about how you and Lizzie pulled the wool over John’s eyes all those months and do nothing about it? It was your ego that wanted me to know how you and Lizzie slept in John’s bed when he was out working his tail end off to make a good life for his wife and baby. But it wasn’t his baby was it? It was yours.”
“Yeah, it was mine,” Bobby shouted. “And me and Lizzie were gonna leave Creede behind. Start a new life down in Mexico, but you ruined that for me, Billy. Just like you always ruin everything for me.”
“How the hell did I ruin things for you? You were the one who beat me black and blue. You were the one who locked me under the house after Momma left for work and wouldn’t let me out until right before she came home. And when I told on you, you lied about it. Momma never knew who to believe. You ruined my life, Bobby. You are a mean son-of-a-bitch and I hate you for what you did to me.”
Bobby sneered. “There you go again, always whining about what happened to you. What about what happened to me, Billy Boy? How about all those beatin’s I took when papa came home drunk? I was the oldest and when he got tired of beatin’ on Momma, he started on me. He beat on me all those years if you didn’t do your chores. Said it was my fault. He beat me when you cried and disturbed his sleep. Said it was my fault. Everything was my fault according to Papa and he beat me until finally I got old enough and big enough to beat back.”
Billy stood motionless. He didn’t know if he was in shock about Bobby’s confession or the details of that confession. At least now, he had a sliver of insight into why Bobby was the way he was, but Bobby wasn’t the only one who suffered.
“You think he didn’t whip me until I couldn’t stand up?” Billy asked. “He did. And he whipped the twins and Betty and Bonnie. Belle was the only one he left alone and it was because Momma took her whippings because she was too little. Hell, Bobby, Papa was a mean son-of-a-bitch and he beat us all. And he said awful things to us. Called us horrible names. But he’s been dead for twenty-five years, so you could have chosen to be different. Act different. But you didn’t. And you know why? ‘Cause you’re just like ‘im.”
“That’s right, Billy Boy. I like to see the fear in people’s eyes. It gives me a happy feeling down deep inside. Makes me feel like I’m in charge and ain’t nobody gonna do nothing about it,” Bobby said. “Now get that other damn horse saddled.”
Billy could hear voices now. The poker game was over and the ranch hands were in the barn. He had one chance to save Hope and he was going to take it.
He shook his head. “It’s too late, Bobby. The barn is full of ranch hands and you ain’t got a snowball’s chance in hell to escape with Hope in tow. They’ll shoot you in the back as you ride out. Leave Hope here and I promise no one will follow you.”
Voices echoed off the wooden barn walls. Horses neighed, knowing they were about to be fed. The barn was alive with activity. Billy read Bobby’s face. His brother knew his time was running out.
