Luke recognized the eastern accent of the tough named Joe Burnett. The other two had to be Howell and Prentice. One of them snapped a couple shots at him, coming close enough for him to hear the bullets whine past his head, as the other grabbed the dangling reins of Burnett’s horse and all three gunmen fled.
Pain flared through Luke’s legs, but they continued to support him. Peabody looked up at him as he reached the old man’s side, but he didn’t seem to notice Luke was standing and moving around without the aid of the crutches.
“Emily’s hurt!” Peabody cried. “When that no-good shot at me, she got in the way of the bullet!”
“How bad is it? Where’s she hit?” Luke figured if he knelt down, he wouldn’t be able to get back up again, so he made his voice urgent in an attempt to get through the fear and confusion that gripped Peabody.
It seemed to work, because the old-timer looked down, gently grasped Emily’s shoulders, and rolled her onto her back. Luke caught a glimpse of blood on her nightclothes, but the stain appeared to be a small one, at least so far.
“I . . . I don’t think she’s hurt too bad,” Peabody said after a moment. “Looks like the bullet just nicked her side.”
Emily groaned.
“She’s comin’ to.” Peabody continued to watch his granddaughter.
Luke watched and listened for any sign of the gunmen doubling back. In the firelight, the three of them made good targets, he thought.
Not seeing further danger, he turned his attention back to Emily and Peabody. “You’ll need to pick her up and get her back in the cabin. Can you clean that wound and put a dressing on it?”
“Yeah, I reckon I can.” Amazement crept into Peabody’s voice as he went on. “Luke, you’re standin’ up on your own! And you ran across there a minute ago! I saw you with my own eyes.”
“Don’t worry about that. Just take care of Emily.”
“I will. What are you gonna do?”
“Something that somebody should have done before now,” Luke said.
He didn’t know how long his legs would keep working. It had taken the threat to Emily and her grandfather for them to move like they had a few minutes earlier. The mixture of fear, desperation, and rage had burned through him like the fire that was consuming the barn, a cleansing fire that forced muscles and nerves to work again the way they were supposed to. His movements were rusty and a little clumsy, but he could get around again, and didn’t want to waste the opportunity.
Peabody was still strong, and Emily was a slip of a girl. He had no trouble picking her up and carrying her back into the cabin.
Luke followed. While Peabody tended to Emily, he got dressed, reloaded the Griswold and Gunnison, and went back outside. His face was impassive in the firelight despite the pain shooting through his legs with every step. The rest of those nerves were waking up again after their long sleep, he thought. If they kept working for a while longer, it would be enough.
He pocketed his revolver and walked over to the spot where he had wounded Joe Burnett. The man’s revolver, a Colt Navy, lay on the ground where Burnett had dropped it. Luke picked up the gun, hefting it in his hand, and realized his ammunition would fit it. Both weapons would be fully loaded when he headed for town.
He frowned. How was he going to get there? The luckless mules had been in the barn, and so had the wagon. His legs were finally working again, but he couldn’t walk all the way to Dobieville.
Shouts and hoofbeats made him swing around and raise both guns. The man riding up to the farm reined in sharply and threw his hands in the air. “Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Hold your fire, mister! I’m a friend!”
Luke recognized the newcomer as one of the men who had gone into town with them that morning. He thought for a second and recalled the man’s name. “You’re Thad Franklin, right?”
“Yeah.” The man dismounted. “My place is a couple miles east of here. I saw the light from the fire and knew somethin’ had to be wrong. Thought I’d better come see if I could help.” He shook his head. “It’s too late to save that barn, though.”
“Maybe you and the others can help Linus rebuild,” Luke suggested.
“Is he hurt? How about Emily?”
Luke jerked his head toward the cabin. “They’re in there. Emily was wounded by the varmints who set the barn on fire, but I think she’s going to be all right.”
“There’ll be more folks showin’ up soon, I reckon. People always come to help when they see a fire.”
“You can help right now,” Luke said. “Give me your horse.”
“My horse? What? Say, you’re the fella who can’t walk!” Franklin looked Luke up and down in confusion. “But you’re standin’ up now.”
Luke lifted the Colt Navy and pointed it at Franklin, saying coldly, “I need your horse. I’ll get it back to you, if I can. If I can’t, you’ll find it in Dobieville.”
“Careful with that gun, mister! What’re you gonna do?” Franklin’s eyes widened as he realized the answer to his own question. “You’re goin’ after the men who did this?”
Luke used his free hand to take the reins out of Franklin’s fingers. “Sorry, but it’s got to be done.” He got his left foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle, clenching his jaw at the pain caused by mounting.
“You’re crazy,” Franklin said. “You can’t fight those carpetbaggers. There are too many of ’em, and they got the Yankee army on their side!”
“I don’t plan to fight all of them, just one in particular and the men he sent to do this.”
“They’ll kill you!”
“Probably. But I plan on sending them to hell ahead of me.”
CHAPTER 23
Still burning brightly, the fire cast an orange glow into the sky behind Luke as he rode toward Dobieville. Being on a horse again felt good.
Despite his concern for Emily, he felt more alive than he had in a long time.
He hadn’t had a chance to reload the Navy after all. Checking the gun’s cylinder, he found that Burnett had fired only one round. The other five chambers were loaded. He had eleven shots.
It would have to be enough.
Regret gnawed at him. He hadn’t taken the time to say good-bye to Emily and her grandfather. He knew they would have tried to talk him out of forcing a showdown with Wolford. Luke didn’t trust himself not to give in to Emily’s pleading and stay at the farm with her.
If he had stayed, things would continue to get worse. He didn’t know if they would actually improve once Wolford was dead, but at least if the carpetbagger and his gunmen were gone they wouldn’t be able to threaten anyone else.
The raiders had come very close to killing Emily, and that knowledge filled Luke with a rage overpowering every other emotion. Somebody had to take a stand against their evil.
He was the man.
Simple as that.
Luke had a good sense of direction and was able to find the settlement without any trouble. When he saw its lights, he reined in for a moment, thinking of the situation and what he should do next.
The three gunmen weren’t that far ahead of him. He figured the first thing they would do was report to Wolford, so there was a good chance he could find them together. It would certainly make things easier if all four of his enemies were in one place.
That notion turned his thoughts to Potter, Stratton, Richards, and Casey. He’d had four enemies to deal with that fateful night, too, and it hadn’t turned out well. But he’d been taken by surprise, even though he shouldn’t have been, and tonight he’d be the one doing the surprising.
He shook his head and turned his thoughts back to the situation at hand. Wolford owned the North Georgia Land Company. Luke had heard talk about it and had seen the sign on a building in town, earlier, when the group of farmers came to talk to the sheriff. He nodded. It was the first place he would look for his quarry.
He used his heels to get the horse moving again. Dobieville was quiet. No reason for it not to be, Luke supposed. The citizens didn’t know what had happened out at the Peabody farm. They would hear about it by
