cowhands to attack, they would overwhelm us with little loss of life on their side.
As if Gertrude was able to read my mind, she shouted, and leaden hail blistered the cabin on four sides. She had not been exaggerating when she said she had it surrounded.
Laughter pealed in the silence that followed the shots. “Are you still alive in there, Hannah? If so, you won’t be for long. By daybreak all of you will be dead and your cabin burned to the ground.”
Hannah was bent over Sam. Without raising her head she called out, “What did we do to you that you hate us so?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gertrude rejoined. “But it will stay my little secret this side of the grave.”
“Please, for the sake of my children, don’t take the law into your own hands. Turn us over to the Texas Rangers.”
“Beg all you want, but my mind is made up. None of you are getting out of there alive. That includes your parson friend, in case he’s still breathing.”
God, how I hankered to blow out her wick. In my fury I clenched my fists and realized my strength was returning. Pain was setting in, as well. My temples pounded and my mouth became as dry as Death Valley. I did not have the warm, wet feeling deep inside, that warned of internal bleeding, which was a good sign. Nor was blood leaking out of my mouth and nose.
Daisy had slid over by her mother, but now she returned and wanted to know, “How are you holding up?”
I had to lick my lips and swallow a few times before saying, “It’s no worse than being stomped by a bull. How is your brother?”
Bending so close her warm breath fluttered my cheek, Daisy said, “The bullet nicked his shoulder bone, but Ma thinks Sam will live.”
“We can’t stay cooped up in here,” I said.
“What else can we do? Ma says it would be suicide to make a break for the woods. They would drop us one by one as we go out the door.”
That they would. “Give me a revolver or a rifle and I will cover you,” I offered. My thinking was that the cowboys would chase after them, giving me the chance to crawl into the woods and hide.
Daisy misunderstood. “You are the noblest man I’ve ever met. But we’re not about to run off and leave you.”
At that juncture something struck the front of the cabin with a loud
“Dear Lord!” Hannah cried. “They’re trying to set the cabin on fire!”
That was the fourth choice.
Chapter 14
A bucket of water was on the counter. Jordy grabbed it and ran to the window, where fingers of flame were licking at the sill. To douse them, he had to lean out and upend the bucket. The moment he did, a rifle cracked off in the trees. Jordy dropped the bucket and tottered back, his right arm suddenly limp.
Hannah and Daisy rushed to render aid. They brought Jordy over near me and had him sit. Kip joined them and handed his mother his belt knife, which Hannah used to cut open Jordy’s sleeve. She gingerly examined the wound. The slug had drilled Jordy above the elbow, shattering the bone and leaving an exit hole the size of a walnut. Blood pumped in a torrent.
“We have to stop the bleeding,” Hannah said. “Daughter, rip a sheet into strips. Kip, find me something to use as a splint.”
I was feeling weak again. I stared at my own wound, wondering if I would live. Internal bleeding was not always apparent. If I was bleeding inside, there was nothing Hannah could do for me. I thought of Gertrude’s treachery and yearned to slip a garrote around her throat or, better yet, strangle her with my hands.
I had only myself to blame for being shot. When I started in the regulating business, I would never turn my back on someone like Gertrude. I had become too sure of myself, too careless. I had taken to assuming my reputation would protect me.
As I watched the glow at the front of the cabin grow, I did something I had not done since I was knee high to a foal. I prayed. I asked God Almighty to let me live so I could have my revenge on the woman who had done this to me. With every iota of my being, I prayed. When it hit me what I was doing, I grinned at my silliness.
Long ago I learned that God never answered my prayers. As a boy, night after night, I prayed that my father would stop beating my mother. Night after night, I prayed he would stop drowning himself in drink and treat us as a father was supposed to treat us. But my prayers did no good. My father did not stop drinking. He did not stop beating her. He did not treat us as a caring father should.
I had heard that God answered the prayers of others: Folks have told me that the Almighty answered theirs. Why God never answered mine, I couldn’t rightly say. Maybe I made God mad at me somehow. Maybe I prayed wrong. Whatever it was, as I sat there with that bullet hole in me and realized I was praying, I not only grinned, I had a lump in my throat.
Then the moment passed, and the cowboys were whooping and hollering and peppering the cabin with lead. The flames outside were now visibly licking at the sill, and spreading rapidly.
The Butchers were huddled together and Hannah was talking in urgent but hushed tones. I could not hear what she was saying. Jordy had been bandaged, but he was as pale as paper. Sam looked even worse.
I tried to crawl to them, but my arms would not support me. I was able to sit back, but the effort left me exhausted. I must have passed out because the next thing I knew, hands had hold of me and I was being dragged across the floor. I sucked in a deep breath and the pain made me cough and sputter.
Hannah’s kindly features floated above me. “Be still, Parson, and listen. We don’t have much time. Our cabin is filling with smoke. We can’t stay or we’ll be burned alive. We have to try for the woods. But we can’t take you with us.”
“What—?” I began, but she hushed me with a finger to my mouth.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t. Jordy and Carson are too weak to help carry you, and it will be all the rest of us can do not to get ourselves shot.”
I felt a hand in mine, squeezing gently. A small, slender hand. Daisy’s hand. I heard a scraping sound and saw Ty sliding the table aside.
“We’re going to put you in the root cellar,” Hannah went on. “It’s the best we can do. If we live, we will come back and fetch you as soon as we can.” Hannah held the short-barreled Remington where I could see it, then slid it into my shoulder holster. “Here. The Lord only knows what you are doing with this, but it might come in handy.” She regarded me intently. “I wish we had time to talk. I have a feeling things aren’t as I thought they were, but that’s neither here nor there now. We’re all in the same boat, and it’s sinking.”
“They’ll be expecting you to make a break for it,” I was able to wheeze.
Hannah’s features became etched with sadness. “I know. We all know. But we have to do it. There are enough of us that maybe we can shoot our way out.” She smiled and said in earnest, “Good luck to you.”
Partial darkness enfolded me. I was being lowered into their root cellar. I smelled dank earth. Near me hung a slab of jerked venison. To my left lay a sack of potatoes. A blanket was placed under me.
Hannah and Tyrel and Carson and Kip filed up the steps, but not Daisy. She sank down beside me and tenderly touched my cheek. “I don’t want to leave you, but Ma says it’s best. At least this way you have a slim chance of living.”
“Don’t go.” I was sincere, much to my amazement.
“I have to. They’re my family.” Daisy’s eyes were the loveliest eyes I ever gazed into. “Before I do, I’d like an answer out of you. An honest answer.”
“About what?”
“Are you a preacher or aren’t you?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Of course I am.”
A smile lit Daisy’s face. “I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t lie to us. And your hideout gun?”
“I told you. I brought it to help protect you if I had to. It belonged to my pa.”
