Twenty-eight

“Hey, girlie!” a voice called through the high, barred window in Jessie’s cell.

She flattened against the wall, clutching Duel’s shirt to her heaving bosom. Ugly taunting outside raised her fear several notches. She prayed Luke and Sheriff Daniels would get back soon. Both lawmen had lit out after a young boy brought news of a shooting in one of El Paso’s many saloons.

“Come over to the window, Miz Foltry. Ain’t gonna hurt you none. Jus’ wanna talk.”

That sinister voice was familiar. She couldn’t swear, but it sounded like Pete Morgan, Jeremiah’s closest friend. The one she’d turned the pistol on when the man tried to grab her that fateful night.

Whatever this mob’s intentions, she knew it didn’t bode well for her. From the blackness, arms shot through the bars, grasping at air. She pressed into the cell wall. She hoped the square window measured too small for a man’s girth. For if they did remove the bars somehow…God help her.

Her chest hammered with sheer terror, and Jeremiah’s sneering words echoed in her head. You’re nothing to me. With a snap of my fingers I can squash you like a bug. And the beauty of it is that no one can stop me.

“Keep looking forward,” she whispered Duel’s words.

Uncontrollable tremors shook her. Please let Luke and the sheriff return before things reach a more critical stage.

Holding Duel’s shirt to her face, she breathed his fragrance. The smell of him enveloped her. She tried to imagine the feel of his arms around her. Behind tightly clenched eyes, she pulled his face into view. The proud, chiseled features of her beloved.

“I’ll be with you, darlin’. In your heart. When you’re scared and alone, just close your eyes and listen. I’ll be there.” Those parting words comforted her now.

As she stood remembering, an unfamiliar noise came. Her eyes flew open. A wad of spit glistened on the floor a few feet away.

While she speculated on the origin, another wet glob slingshotted, landing near the first. Raucous laughter brought out her anger. These scum were of Jeremiah’s ilk, taking pleasure in tormenting helpless beings. Hurry, Luke, she prayed.

“Do you men have a license for loitering?” Luke’s soft twang from beyond the window brought immeasurable relief.

“Don’t need no license.”

“You do now.” A deadly warning lurked behind Luke’s reply.

“One Ranger against the six o’ us? Gonna arrest us all?”

Then she heard the sheriff’s familiar growl. “I’m thinkin’ we can handle the job, Morgan. Now, break up the party or I’ll arrest the lot of you fer not only loiterin’ but spittin’ on public property.”

“Jus’ paying your jailbird a call, Sheriff. No harm in that. After all, the slut deserves it for killin’ Jeremiah.”

The wall outside shook violently as something slammed against it. Jessie could only imagine the cause. However, the grunt that followed and Luke’s terse threat confirmed her suspicions.

“I ever hear you use that word again, you’re a dead man, mister.”

“Jus’ calling a spade a spade’s all.”

A split second later, the grunt turned uglier. Sounds of misery underscored the guttural noises.

“If I catch you spitting into her cell again, I’ll rip off your arms and feed ’em to the mangy curs that roam the streets. You got that?”

“You silver-tongued devil, Luke.” Jessie could hear, rather than see, the broad grin that must cover Sheriff Daniels’s face. “Stole the words right outta my mouth. Now, boys, that goes for any of you yahoos who come within ten feet of my jail.”

Grumbling followed, but the group seemed to take the advice to heart. Shuffling footsteps moved away from her window. She collapsed onto the narrow cot.

However, one man shot parting words that made her freeze. “I’ll get the rest o’ this town together, an’ we’ll be back. Only next time it’ll be to hang the murderin’ witch.”

“Better get you an army, ’cause you’ll need it. The woman will have a fair trial or my name’s not Luke McClain.”

Oh, God. They mean to take me out of jail and string me up like a piece of meat. No one can keep me safe. Luke and the sheriff can’t hold off the entire town.

A few moments passed before Luke and the sheriff came inside. Sheriff Daniels’s normally placid features had turned two shades of red.

“Spittin’ in my jail. Threatening to lynch my prisoner. Great day in the morning!”

Luke didn’t break his stride until he had the iron door unlocked. Concern cast a pall on his young features.

“You all right, Jessie?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Panic rippled as though over the rigid bumps of a washboard. Each thud reaffirmed the possibility that she might not live to see her husband and little girl again. Nothing assured her tomorrow’s sunrise would come.

He held out his arms. “Come here.”

She flew into the haven. He wasn’t Duel, but he was family, and his touch comforted.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, Jessie. You believe that I’m not gonna let that mob in here, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Yet deep inside doubts bubbled like fermented yeast. He’d do his best to keep her from harm, that was a given. After all, he came from the same strong cloth as her husband.

But can two good men stop an enraged mob bent on revenge?

* * *

“The circuit judge’ll be here in three days, Jessie. Wonder what in the devil’s keeping Duel.”

Her stomach lurched. If Luke was worried…

“Do you suppose he had trouble?”

“I know my brother, and he’d be here unless he hit a snag.”

Duel hadn’t deserted her. He wouldn’t. He’d promised to come. Still, a small voice nagged. Why should he waste good money on a losing cause? They’ll hang me in the end anyway.

“I talked to your ma like I promised.”

Luke’s unease was plain to see. He’d clearly opposed her wishes.

“Did you make her understand?”

“Aw, Jessie, it made her cry. I almost bawled myself. Me a grown man. Don’t ever ask me to do anything like that again.”

“I won’t,” she murmured through stiff lips.

She’d arrived at the decision after much soul-searching. A selfish part of her cried for her mother’s embrace. If she could just feel the warmth of her mother’s touch one more time… But her head told her to spare Phoebe Sutton the townsfolk’s retribution.

Bart Daniels kicked on the door to the jail for Luke to let him in. Since hearing rumors of a forming lynch mob, they’d kept the door locked.

“A durn turtle’s slow, Luke. Jessie’s food’ll be colder than kraut.”

“Sit steady in the boat, you old coot.” Luke slid the bolt. “And what in the heck would you know about kraut?”

Bart’s porcupine mustache bristled. “More’n you. For your information, my ma was a full-blood German. Pay attention sometime and you might learn a thing or two.”

“Peas n’ taters! Always spouting about something. Let me have Jessie’s food. After that walk, you most likely need to sit down and rest your bones a spell.”

“Ain’t a dad-burned thing wrong with me. An’ I’m not too old to whip some of that sass outta you either.”

The affectionate banter between the two men lifted Jessie temporarily from the doldrums. Her fondness for Luke grew. He saw the old sheriff’s value and respected the man.

Luke’s deep caring for her welfare went beyond mere words. For instance, he’d rigged some blankets around her cell that she could pull shut when she wanted privacy. Duel and Luke shared more than simply a last name.

Then, when you threw the sheriff onto the pile, the odds in her favor grew. She harbored no doubt. Sheriff Daniels and Luke would lay their lives on the line to keep her safe. For the first time since she’d arrived in El Paso, she didn’t tremble inside. She accepted the warm plate of food.

“Thank you, Luke.”

The man returned her fleeting smile and winked. “Don’t worry about Duel. He’ll come soon.”

“Yes, you’re absolutely right.” She lifted the blue-checkered cloth that covered the plate. The red beans and cornbread smelled good, only she wasn’t hungry. Her appetite had vanished when she’d left Tranquility.

“Think we have a mess of trouble, Luke.” Bart peeked through the curtained front window.

Light from burning flares first entered the jailhouse as dancing shadows, twisting on the walls. Jessie stared at the kaleidoscope of color in fascination. The red glares became as bright as the midnight sun, while a loud babble outside grew to a roar.

“Reckon how many?” Luke jerked rifles off a rack on the wall and began shoving cartridges into them.

“Can’t say.”

“What’s happening?” Fear put the sharp tone in her voice.

“Probably some liquored-up folks spoiling for a fight. Don’t worry, we’ll handle it, Jess.”

“Open up, Sheriff. Got half the town out here. We want the woman.”

“Over my dead body, you law-breakin’ varmints.” Bart broke a corner glass pane and propped the rifle barrel on the wood. “All of you go home ’fore someone gits hurt.”

“Through you or over you, makes no nevermind to us. We mean to see justice done.” The determined answer echoed through her cell. Like the fingers of death, they reached inside and closed around her throat, making it hard to breathe.

No one had to tell her justice meant swinging from the end of a rope. The blood drained from her face. She moved to crouch on the floor against the wall. Lucky for her she did, for a rock hurtled into the space she’d just occupied. This came from the barred window in her cell.

They had the jail surrounded!

“Jessie Foltry, you’re a murderin’ tramp!”

“Yeah, we’ll make you pay for what you done.”

“Burn in hell, Jessie Foltry.”

The threats continued with no sign of abating. This angry mob had become inflamed.

From amid the chaos, shots rang out. Bullets whizzed past the lawmen’s heads. Breaking glass flew. Jessie stuck her fingers in her ears and watched in horror as Luke and Bart returned fire. Thank goodness both still stood after the initial skirmish.

“Let’s burn ’em out!” shouted a voice during a momentary lull.

“You boys burn the jail, and you’ll have every Texas Ranger in the state riding down here!” Luke didn’t budge from his lookout. He kept his rifle aimed, and Jessie knew he’d not give her up without a fierce fight. Not because she’d married his brother, but because he lived and breathed duty and honor.

“I’d pay a mind to him if’n I was you. Wanna step into a den of rat’lers, you just go right on ahead and light that fire.”

Silence met the sheriff’s warning. Perhaps he’d gotten through to them. She prayed.

“The citizens of this town have the right to defend it against murderin’ harlots. All we want is justice. Bible says an eye for an eye.”

So much for hoping they’d seen reason. These men seemed determined to administer their brand of revenge. The weight on her chest grew heavier until it threatened to choke her.

“You’ll get your justice,” Luke shot back. “This woman is gonna get a fair trial. That’s the law.”

“Only two o’ you agin’ fifty o’ us,” a voice called.

“Good enough odds if you ask me!” The sudden deep timbre released a swirl of excitement in her. She’d never forget that voice if she lived to be a hundred. “Besides, me and this Schofield are thinking of evening things a bit.”

Could it be true? Maybe she’d only imagined it.

“Duel, that you?” Luke called.

“Yeah, brother, it’s me.”

The air Jessie had kept at bay expelled in a rush. He was here. He’d come! Her promise-keeper hadn’t forsaken her.

Yet now that he’d arrived, would the mob kill him? After all, he stood out there among them.

“That woman in there that you’re so all-fired anxious to string up is my wife. I’ll kill any man here who tries to do her harm.”

Dead silence ensued. Then Jessie listened to the loud murmurs.

“That’s Duel McClain!”

“I heard tell o’ his skill with a forty-five.”

“Me, too. Ain’t fool enough to go up agin’ him.”

“I ain’t aiming to git myself killed.”

From the sound of it, the mob was dispersing. She’d known of Duel’s bounty-hunting past, but she’d never dreamed he’d forged such a formidable reputation. Simply his name alone had put the fear of God into this unruly group. This was a different side of the kind, compassionate man she’d grown to love.

Time stood still as she waited for the first glimpse of her beloved. Evidently, he wanted to make sure the crowd scattered before he let down his guard and came inside.

Anxious, she smoothed back her hair and shook the wrinkles from her skirt. She must look a sight.

Sheriff Daniels unbolted the door. Luke stepped outside to greet his brother.

Suddenly, the click of paws on the wooden floor drew her attention downward.

“Yellow Dog!”

Before she could gather her composure, Duel’s large frame filled the doorway. Her throat constricted and tears filled her eyes. She didn’t remember him being so tanned. Or quite so tall. Or quite so dangerous. No wonder he’d sent the crowd home. He was a vision of power and tenderness all wrapped up in one.

He had come.