Chapter Ten
"Damn Marston. Nice house," Pete muttered when the large two story home came into view. Pete had never seen an outlaw with such nice accommodations.
"My brother won it in a poker game and he gave it to Rose and the children back when they thought I was a dead man."
Pete pulled the gray mare that Marston had rented in town for him to a stop just as the big black door to the house opened and a young girl with dark brown curls ran out with an old hound on her heels.
"Pa's home!" the girl exclaimed, her curls dancing around her face as she bounced. "And he brought Kaitlyn back!"
Pete dismounted the mare and watched Marston help Kaitlyn off Buck's back before the outlaw took off running toward the house.
"Apparently I'm nothing but chopped liver," Langley muttered.
Pete watched Marston as he scooped the young girl up in his arms and spun her around. It was strange to see Marston looking so different. He looked nothing like a dangerous outlaw in that moment and every inch a loving family man.
Kaitlyn came to stand beside Pete just as a soft bodied woman with thick red curls stepped from the house. She had skin nearly as white as the snow around them and her big eyes lit up at the sight of Marston.
"Is that your mama?" Pete quietly asked Kaitlyn.
"Yep," Langley replied before Kaitlyn could. "Nicest woman you'll ever meet most of the time. Uncle Duke likes to joke though that mama can't be as sweet and kind as she seems because it would have taken a woman with more than a little outlaw in her to tame pa."
Pete nodded. Marston certainly looked tamed as he pressed a soft kiss to Rose's lips and propped the girl upon his hip.
That was what Pete wanted. He wanted a woman who looked at him with that kind of love. He glanced down at Kaitlyn and she blushed and turned her gaze to the snow.
"Who is that?" Rose questioned, pointing at Pete.
Marston sighed. "Pete. Apparently he's in love with our daughter."
"And he's still breathing?" Rose teased.
Marston growled. "Barely."
She smiled as she laid her head on his arm comfortingly. "Do you know him?"
"Yep," Marston replied. "He was a deputy in Millerton." Marston didn't go into any further detail with Lucy listening intently to every word her parents said.
Rose was quiet a moment before nodded. "I remember you telling me about him."
Lucy shifted in his arms, grabbed him by his ear and forced his gaze to her. "What?" Marston asked, fighting back a smile.
"I'm cold."
"Well it's January," he reminded her. "And you came out without a coat. What did you think was going to happen?"
"Don't lecture," she pouted. "Just take me in where it's warm."
Marston laughed. "Go to your mama and she'll take you in where it's warm. We'll get the horses put up and join you in a minute."
"Okay," she smiled brightly and Marston gave her over to Rose.
"Kaitlyn, you get on in where it's warm too," Marston ordered as he stepped off the porch.
Kaitlyn was quick to do as he said and the men found themselves alone. "So, that's the family the Marshall threatened to take from you?" Pete asked quietly as the three of them led their horses toward the barn.
"Yes."
"It take a brave man to die protecting his family, Marston," Pete noted. "You were willing to do just that and you would have had that rope worked."
Marston grunted. "It takes a brave man to face what you faced just to save a man and a family that he doesn't know, Pete. Thank you for that."
Marston hadn't looked away from his task of removing Buck's saddle as he'd spoken but Pete could hear the sincerity in his words.
"Aww, are the two of you are getting me all choked up. Would you like a few minutes alone?" Langley teased.
Marston shook his head. "You've spent too much time with Duke and Jeremiah. You've gotten just about as annoying as they are."
Langley laughed and the barn fell into silence as all the men went about their chores.
They walked into the house a short time later and Pete stared at the size of the place. It smelled homey, like pies and bread. The wood was gleaming and the decorations were simple but elegant.
"That must have been one hell of a card game your brother was playing," Pete mused.
"He always has been a lucky bastard," Marston agreed. Then he grinned. "That was one time it happened to work in my favor."
The warm den Marston led him into reminded Pete of his family's cabin back in Louisiana. A warm fire burned in the fireplace and two armchairs sat in front of it. Two sofa's sat a bit further away and two sewing tables were in the far corner. A gun cabinet stood in against the wall beside a window. Dolls and blocks littered the floor beside one of the sofas and that big hound was curled up on a rug beside the fire.
The little girl Pete knew must be Lucy was playing with dolls while Kaitlyn sat on the sofa watching her. "Where's your mama?" Marston asked as he slid his rifle from his back and removed his coat.
Pete simply stared at the giant of a man. He'd forgotten how damn big Marston was. "She's in the kitchen," Lucy replied. Without a word, Marston left the room.
"I'll be back in a while," Langley said before disappearing up a staircase.
Lucy stared up at Pete and he saw a flicker of unease in her blue eyes when her gaze became locked on his scar. His stomach turned a little. Children were always frightened of him—he was a monster in their eyes.
"Lucy, it's not polite to stare," Kaitlyn scolded gently. "This is Pete Mears. He's a friend of pa's."
Pete raised a brow. The word friend was pushing it a little.
"He's your friend too," Lucy replied. "I can tell cuz you keep looking at him the way mama looks at pa."
Kaitlyn blushed and stared down at her lap. "Yes, he's my friend too."
Lucy and Pete continued to stare at one another. It was clear that this was Marston's biological child. She had his darker coloring and his brown hair. Her eyes were blue like her mama's but they were just as sharp as her outlaw pa's.
"What happened to your face?" she asked suddenly.
"Lucy!" Kaitlyn gasped but Pete chuckled.
The girl certainly didn't act the least bit afraid of him. She was the first child he'd met since his accident that hadn't run away from him screaming or hidden behind their mama's skirts.
"I made someone mad," he replied.
Lucy nodded. "Real mad from the looks of it." She adjusted the dress on one of her dolls. "You look a little scary."
Kaitlyn hid her face in her hands but Pete found the young girl to be a breath of fresh air. "Well, you don't seem scared of me."
Lucy shrugged her tiny shoulders. "I'm not. You don't have to be scared of things when you got a pa like mine."
Pete tilted his head. "Is that so?"
"Yep. Pa always says he'll just shoot anything that scares me so I don't have nothing to be scared of."
"Anything," Kaitlyn mumbled from behind her hands. "You don't have anything to be afraid of."
Lucy let out a long exasperated sigh. "That's what I said."
"Who wants tea?" Marston asked as he stepped back into the room balancing a tray with a dainty tea kettle and matching glasses. It was so strange a sight that Pete nearly laughed out loud.
One by one, everyone took a cup and Marston and Rose sat down on the sofa across from Kaitlyn. Pete hesitated a moment before sitting beside Kaitlyn on the sofa.
Rose cleared her throat. "Pete, Marston explained to me exactly who you are while we were in the kitchen and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the sacrifice and risk you took to keep our family safe."
Pete shrugged and stared down into his tea. That old, familiar pull toward making a difference and seeing justice done right flickered to life inside him. It had been a long time since Pete had felt that.
"Don't mention it, ma'am. I was only doing what I thought was right."
Rose waved her hand. "Just the same, I thank you. And I want to let you know that as far as I'm concerned our house is yours for as long as you'd like to stay."
"Thank you, ma'am," Pete said, touched by the woman's kindness. She really was the opposite of her grumbly husband.
Rose smiled. "And while you're here, you will not be sleeping in the barn. There is a spare room directly behind the kitchen that was used for servant's quarters when the previous owners lived here. You can sleep there."
"He'll be sleeping in the barn," Marston growled.
Pete saw Rose's blue eyes narrow. She kissed Marston's hard cheek and let her lips linger there. "Spare room behind the kitchen."
Pete swore it was like watching the Great Wall of China tumble. Marston sighed. "Fine."
He took a sip of his tea and Pete wondered if the man realized he was pouting.
"I thank you for that, ma'am," Pete acknowledged. "And so does my back. Your home is lovely."
"Thank you. It's a far cry from where we used to live," Rose admitted.
Kaitlyn nodded. "The barns here are nicer than our old cabin."
Marston grunted. "Hell the outhouse is nicer than that cabin was."
Laughter filled the sitting room. Rose snuggled closer to Marston whose arm instantly went around her shoulders. "Marston told me how good you were to him when you last knew one another, Pete. He said you were a good friend."
Marston grunted. "I never said friend."
Rose nodded. "Yes you did."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes you did."
"I must have been drunk."
"No you weren't," Rose scolded with a shake of her head. She turned her attention back to Pete. "He hates feeling as if he owes anyone anything. He hates anyone knowing that he has a heart inside that crusty exterior. But there is a heart. It's rusty and it squeaks a little but it's there."
Marston was growling as he stood up. "That's enough about that. Come on, Pete. You said you wanted to work and earn money so let's go."
"Pa, he needs time to heal," Kaitlyn countered.
Marston grinned. "You need a nap or something?"
While rest sounded good to Pete, he wasn't going to tell Marston that. Not when he had seen Marston with a back that looked more like raw meat than skin and the man hadn't broken a single time even while the infection had ravaged him. "No, I'm okay."
"Well, let's get to work then, boy," Marston urged and he left the room. Pete spared a longing glance in Kaitlyn's direction before following after the outlaw.
***
Frank rode into Armadillo Texas feeling dried out and in bad need of whiskey and a bath. He'd been traveling hard since leaving Vincent's, searching for any sign of Marston Jacobs. Frank wasn't real sure how he was supposed to locate a man who'd spent the last five years living as a ghost but Frank would do anything for his brother.
He hitched his horse outside The Double Decker Saloon and stepped inside, allowing his eyes to adjust to the change of light for several moments. It was still fairly early in the day and the saloon wasn't crowded. Several scantily clad bar maids lounged at the back tables and one of them waved her brightly painted nails at him.
Frank tipped his hat to her and then made his way to the bar and settled himself down on a rickety stool. He curled his nose at the three crusty men sitting down from him. Frank had always hated it when people let themselves get that dirty. Soap was cheap and rivers were free.
"What can I get you, Frank?" the bartender, Otis, asked.
"Whiskey."
Otis nodded and uncorked a bottle before grabbing a shot glass from beneath the bar. "How is your brother doing?"
"He's still dying," Frank replied, taking the full shot glass and downing it quickly. "He's got me out searching for information on someone."
"Who would that be?" Otis asked, scratching at his jaw. "I know quite a few folks that wander around these parts."
Frank stole a quick glance at the men down the bar and realized they were all listening intently. He sighed. "You'll probably think I'm more than a little crazy for asking about him."
Otis laughed as he refilled Frank's glass. "Nothing wrong with being a little crazy."
Frank rubbed at his neck, feeling more than a little foolish. "Marston Jacobs."
"Really?" Otis chuckled and raised a bushy gray brow. "I don't know if you and that brother of yours got the word but Marston Jacobs has been dead a long time."
Frank downed his second shot and shook his head. "I thought so to but I heard from somebody that knew Marston well and that man said it wasn't Marston who was buried in that grave."
"Is that so?" Otis sat down the glass he'd been wiping and leaned his elbows against the bar. "Who the hell was it then?"
Frank shrugged. "I don't know. But the man said that whoever they buried had blue eyes."
"But Marston's were gold," Otis noted. "They were so cold and full of fire it was as if the devil himself had come back from the pits of hell. Marston Jacobs had a way of looking at a man that made his spine turn to water right then and there."
Frank shook his head. "Marston Jacob was a coward and still is. Because if that wasn't him they buried then he's still out there hiding with his tail between his legs."
Otis shivered. "Alive or dead, you couldn't pay me enough money to call Marston a coward."
"We knew Marston pretty well," a grizzled voice announced from down the bar.
Frank turned to see the dirtiest of the three men looking at him with a smile that revealed his rotting teeth beneath his matted blond beard. "Good for you," Frank hissed.
"I think you're right about him not being dead," the man added and Frank held out a hand to stop Otis from refilling his glass for a third time.
"You do?" Frank asked.
"Shut-up, Shaw!" One of the smelly man's smelly friends warned.
"What do you know?" Frank demanded, hoping this would be the break he'd been waiting for.
A predatory grin curved Shaw's thin lips. "For the right amount of money my jaw might just loosen up a little."
Frank dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. He dropped them on the bar and waited impatiently for Shaw as the man scooped up the coins in his dirty hands.
"We did a lot of running with Marston, his brother Jeremiah and Duke back in the day."
"What does that have to do with where he is now?" Frank asked impatiently.
"I'm getting there," Shaw snapped. The two men beside him simply shook their head and stared down into their drinks. "I still see Jeremiah from time to time and sometimes I see Duke too. The strange thing about them two is that for as long as I could remember they'd never left Texas, Arizona and New Mexico. Then Marston died and suddenly they were making regular trips up to the Dakotas."
Frank frowned. "How sure are you about this?"
"Pretty sure," Shaw assured him. "They talk about a man named Jacob who has a wife named Rose and some kids Langley, Kaitlyn and Lucy, I believe is what they called them. Seems he's got himself a regular old family. I'd check the far northern Dakotas if I was looking for Marston Jacobs."
"He won't have that family for long," Frank growled, rising from his stool.
"What exactly are you gonna do?" Otis asked.
Frank tossed coins on the bar to cover his whiskey. "I'm gonna go get the gang together, collect my brother and we're gonna take a trip up north. There are only a handful of towns in the Dakotas and Marston ain't the kind of man who can blend in real easy. I'm gonna find him and he's gonna watch his family die for what he did to my brother."
Frank adjusted his hat and then stomped out of the saloon, his silver spurs singing.
"You just signed our death warrants, you idiot!" Hobs growled at Shaw.
Shaw shook his head. "How you got that figured?" he asked before letting out a loud belch.
"It'll get back to Marston or Jeremiah or Duke that you ratted him out and they'll come for us! You know how those three are about each other. They claim they don't care about one another but if you mess with one you end up getting the wrath of all three!"
"They'll never know it was us," Shaw grumbled. "Just calm the hell down."
He took a long shaking gulp of his beer and hoped he was right.