Against Her Will

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Three

"Hero?" Tanner echoed. He frowned, scratched his head, winced as he adjusted himself in the cushioned chair and stared at the sheriff, convinced the man had just lost his mind entirely. "Did you just call me a hero."

Sheriff Musgraves nodded as he sat down in his chair on the other side of the desk and smoothed out his vest over his flat stomach. "I sure did."

Tanner downed the glass of water in one big gulp and handed the empty glass back to the man in red suspenders who smiled happily and then quickly dashed away.

"But you just arrested me for murder," he reminded the sheriff.

"I know that," Sheriff Musgraves smiled beneath his thick black mustache and his dark eyes twinkled. "That was just for show and for your own protection."

"Protection?" Tanner frowned. "Protection from what?"

"One of Yancy's associates placed a bounty on your head, Mr. Montgomery. We didn't want to see you gunned down in our streets and figured it was best they thought you were in our custody."

Tanner's blood ran cold. "You left my wife and son out there alone!" he exclaimed as jumped to his feet and his legs nearly gave out beneath him. He'd lost more blood than he'd realized and the sudden movement made his head swim. He fell back down into the chair hard.

"Calm down. I wouldn't have left your family in danger. They're perfectly safe. I have two deputies keeping an eye on them and they will bring them in here shortly--through the back doors of course as soon as the coast seems clear. The man who placed the bounty on your head is the same one that you just gunned down in the street. Word will get around that he's dead and there's no longer a bounty for your head and things'll get quiet again. Trust me, there's too much that goes on underground here for anyone to worry about Yancy for long."

Tanner rubbed at his face. "Why in the hell would a bounty be on my head for Yancy's death?"

Sheriff Musgraves chuckled, "Because you finally gave that good for nothing bastard what he deserved and we all know it thanks to an informant from that alley those men attacked you in. Damn, you showed them what for too, didn't you?" Sheriff Musgraves tapped his desk. "You gave Yancy what none of us could give him because higher ups in power didn't want him touched by the law. You see, no one knew exactly where Yancy kept all the proof of their wrong doings and it was made clear that if the law touched him then the law would pay." The sheriff grunted. "It never did sit quite well with me but I don't make the rules."

Tanner was about to speak again a middle-aged man with a doctor's bag came into the jail and clicked his tongue. "Come on back to one of the offices, son, and I'll get you patched up." Tanner had no choice but to follow--he was too damn confused to do much else anyhow.

***

Temperance was in a fog as she led her son to the livery where the wagon and her friends were waiting. Jackson kept asking questions but Temperance was unable to answer any of them. She couldn't form words or even still her mind enough to think clearly.

Tanner was gone.

Again.

She had been so terrified to let herself love him, to let him into her heart and lean on him, depend on him, need him. She had done those things only because he had promised to never leave her--and now he was gone. It wasn't his fault and she knew that much but it still didn't change the fact that she was once again losing someone she loved.

A prickling of unease washed over her and she glanced to the left only to realize that the same man was still in her line of vision. He was following her.

Temperance felt her heart speed up. This man might be someone else who had worked with Yancy and felt that those responsible for his death should pay. Temperance had no idea how everyone had found out it was Tanner--unless of course those men from the alley had given him away. All Temperance knew was that she wouldn't let this man, or any others, hurt her son.

Temperance bent low and pretended to be retying her boot string. She pulled the knife from the sheath on her ankle and rose back to stand. The man was coming closer now and Temperance prepared herself to fight back.

Just as the man came close enough for her two swing her blade he shook his head and met her gaze. "Don't attack me, ma'am," he pulled back his jacket to reveal a deputies badge which he quickly covered again. "I don't mean y'all any harm. Would ya like to go see your husband?"

***

"You have several gifts here for you. We sent out word about Yancy's death and thank-you's and rewards starting pouring in addressed to whoever killed him." Tanner listened to Sheriff Musgraves and his mind whirled. Gifts? For killing someone? Damn, what kind of town was Savannah?

"This is a box of cigars--the expensive kind--I believe they're from someone in the congress who is happy to see Yancy gone. And then you got some money here that..." Sheriff Musgraves whistled, "Damn that's close to ten thousand dollars all together--I believe that's a gift from the senators--though they conveniently left out their names."

Tanner watched as pocket watches, more money, thank you notes, tobacco and whiskey were all taken out of a wooden box and placed on Sheriff Musgraves desk. Tanner laid his hand over his freshly sewn side and adjusted the white collar of his borrowed blue chambray shirt. "I ain't never gotten a present for killing someone before..." he admitted.

"It seems some men are real damn happy you got rid of him and saved their careers--not to mention their marriages. Yancy knew a lot of things about a lot of people."

Tanner shook his head. It was sad to know that so many people involved in running the country had done business with a man like Yancy. "I'm ready to see my wife now," he mumbled.

The back doors opened and sunlight streamed in illuminating Temperance and Jackson as they stepped into the jail. Tanner took off toward them like a bullet from a gun and pulled them into his arms, ignoring the pain in his side and the dizziness in his head.

None of that mattered. The only thing in the world that meant a damn thing was having his wife and his son in his arms.