“What’s going on exactly?” the woman asked.

“What’s your name?” I answered her question with a question.

“Lindsey. Lindsey Willing.”

I nodded. “I’m Alyssa. That man who brought you here, he took my partner’s son. Maybe even killed his wife. We are here to get his boy back and bring that man to justice.”

“Malachi. His name is Malachi. And if he hurt a child—then the only justice he deserves is a bullet between his eyes.” Her eyes flashed and her lips twisted into a snarl. “I know good people think women like me are bad—but I’m not. I have me a son. I sent him to live with my sister over the mountains in Payne. I only do this to make money, but I am saving it. All of it. Then I am getting out of here and getting my son and we are starting over.” She paused, her eyes taking on a far-away look. “If someone hurt my child, I’d kill them. I’d kill them and I’d make sure they felt it as their life left their body.”

I holstered my pistol. “Ms. Willing, I have never agreed with a person more.”

“You have kids?” She asked.

“No. I don’t want any either. But I think every child deserves to be protected from monsters—and that’s my job.”

I turned to leave and find Jon.

“Where are you going, Alyssa?” Lindsey Willing asked.

“I’m going to do my job.”

***

IT WAS EASY TO FIND the barn. I heard the moans before I opened the door.

Jon’s gun was tossed to the side and he was straddling a man—all I could see were his pants and boots sticking out from underneath Jon.  Jon punched the monster—Malachi. He moved like a man possessed, as soon as one fist connected with the downed man, he swung again. Over and over.

“Jon!” I ran over. Blood splattered across Jon’s face and arms. The man beneath him still squirmed, refusing to be still and die.

“Jon, that’s enough. If you are going to kill him, then kill him.”

From the darkened corner I heard a whimper. I followed the sound.

I holstered my gun, and held my hands out, palms up. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “You can come out. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

From the shadows stepped a boy. A tiny boy with long, straight black hair and large, wide set, deep brown eyes. The same hair and eyes I saw everyday on Jon.

“Are...are you going to whip me?” His voice quivered.

With his words, my heart broke. “What?” I asked.

The little boy—Jon’s boy—stepped further from the shadow of the corner. “Malachi,” the boy flinched. “I mean...I am supposed to call him Pa—please don’t tell him I forgot. He’d be real mad if I forgot to call him Pa. And if I don’t do what he wants fast enough he whips me. On my back.”

My stomach lurched. I looked over to where Jon was still punching Malachi. I quickly moved my eyes away. My stomach squeezed and I remembered hands—identical to Malachi’s—caressing me. Touch me. I remembered a body just the same as Malachi’s making love to me. But it wasn’t him. It was Jon, I reminded myself. Yes. I would have to be mad at Jon later...once we were all safe. We’d have a big talk because I didn’t know how I felt. I knew I loved Jon and that love is complicated...but this would be a lot for me to get over. Especially now that I’d met Jon’s son and knew what a monster Malachi truly was. Those memories would plague me forever.

Right now, I didn’t have time for anger. Right now I didn’t have time for anything other than getting the boy safe. “That man....he ain’t your pa. Not even close.”

The boy’s brown eyes widened. “I know that. I can’t...I remember I had a real Pa. And a real Ma. But I can’t remember them. Malachi said he saved me. That I had to call him Pa because he was the only Pa I had left.”

I heaved a breath to keep tears from forming in my eyes. “No. You listen to me. Your Pa, your real Pa, he has been looking for you for a long time. He loves you—you are loved. I know your Pa real well.”

“You do?” The boy stepped closer.

I looked to where Jon finally slid off of Malachi, leaving him a heaping, bloody mess.

“Yes. Your Pa. He loves you very much. In fact, he came to save you. I’m just here to help you. He risked his life to bring you home.”

The boy’s bottom lip quivered with emotion and he threw his arms around my neck.  “That other man—the one beating up Malachi...is he? Is...”

Before I could answer, Jon stood. He stared to where I was kneeling next to his son. There was blood on his face and shirt. His fists were bloodied and beginning to swell. I was sure his son would cry. Or scream. Or turn away. Instead the boy only stared back at his father. He didn’t blink and his lip didn’t quiver. Jon took a step, slowly, toward his son.

“Jacoby...” Jon’s voice was low and steady.

The boy said nothing.

“Your name was Jacoby,” Jon continued.

“Pa...I mean Malachi said I didn’t deserve a name.”

Jon’s eyes flashed and I thought he was going to turn and kick the body of Malachi. I wouldn’t have blamed him. Hell, I had half a mind to go and give it a good kick in the ribs myself.

The little boy, Jacoby, ducked his chin and stared for a long time at his boots. When he looked up there was the smallest semblance of a smile on his precious face. “The lady said that you are here to rescue me.”

“Yes. You are my son. Mine. I am taking you home and no one will ever hurt you again. I promise.”

“You are my Pa? My real Pa?” The tiny smile began to spread.

Jon’s eyes glistened. “Yes.”

Jacoby turned to me. “And you are my Ma?”

“Oh honey. No. Your Ma—I bet she was a good woman. Probably the best. But me, I don’t have any kids.”

His brows drew together and he frowned. “Oh.”

“But Jacoby, I’d like very much to be your friend. Your best friend, if you’ll let me.” I stood “But first let’s get out of here, okay?”

Jacoby slipped his hand inside of Jon’s and a range of emotion registered of my lover’s face. Surprise. Happiness. Contentment. All emotions I’d never before seen him wear.

“Yes,” Jacoby said. “I’d like that very much. Now let’s go before Malachi wakes up. I don’t ever wanna see him again.”

Jacoby’s tiny body shivered. I knew Jon would have many questions for his son, and that likely Malichi wouldn’t be the only person to suffer at his hand. I also knew that though Jacoby seemed fine, he’d likely have questions of his own. And likely, it would take him a while, maybe a long while, before he was truly okay. If he was ever okay.

But for now, father and son were together.

We turned to leave the barn, when Jon caught my eye. “Why don’t you take Jacoby out of here and wait with the horses. I got to finish something. My life depends on it.”

Of course. His deal with the witches on Red Soot Mountain. If he didn’t kill Malachi, then their deal would be permanent, and the witch who he’d dealt with would keep his soul.

“Yeah, okay.” I placed a hand on Jacoby’s shoulder and led him from the barn. He looked over his shoulder once and frowned.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I knew Malachi wasn’t my real Pa. He has white hair and fair skin. But I tried and tried to remember my real Pa and Ma and I never could. I don’t know if Malachi did something to make me forget or what—but a kid should be able to remember his parents and I can’t.”

His eyes were thick with unshed tears. The last thing this little boy should have felt was guilt over not remembering Jon. My heart broke all over again. I squeezed his shoulder. “Hey. Listen to me, it is okay. None of this is your fault. None of it. I think you have been a very strong boy.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I do. And I’m a Sheriff, so you can take what I say as the law.”

He mulled over what I said, then shook his head.

“Now come on. Let’s get to the horses so we can get out of here.”

Jacoby let me guide him from the barn. Behind me I heard Jon draw his weapon.

I was letting Jacoby pet Diana (she preened at the attention) when the scream broke through the air.

It was Jon.