Prologue

Amarillo, Texas 1881

When Aaron burst into the office, Jeb Barnett knew whatever was coming wasn’t going to be good. Jeb had seen his fair share of ugly situations, and not only since pinning on the sheriff’s star. Life in Amarillo in 1881 wasn’t exactly a cakewalk, but something that could get Aaron’s usually calm demeanor out of sorts was something Jeb wasn’t looking forward to hearing about. Jeb set aside some paperwork and looked up at the man. The blond hair and blue eyes gave Aaron a younger look, in contrast with Jeb’s dark hair and eyes. Most wouldn’t have guessed, but they’d grown up together in the town.

The small, worn-down station where they sat had been there since as long as either could remember. The office in front had only room for a desk and two chairs, the majority of the building being taken up by cells off a hallway to the back.

“It’s Richard,” was all the man had to say before Jeb was up and grabbing his hat from a peg on the wall.

Richard Tulley was one of Jeb’s most trusted deputies. Alongside Aaron, the trio had made big moves to clean up the Texas county over the years. It had made them some enemies, sure, but the majority of the people were on their side, happy and thankful to know the streets they walked were a little safer each day thanks to the lawmen. Naturally, threats had been made, words had been exchanged. Jeb knew when he traded his days running the ranch for keeping order he was also trading the peace of days out on the range. Until now, at least, things had never gotten too close to home. They had in the past. It was what drew him to the job. But, Jeb had no intention of letting anyone else suffer what he had. Aaron’s expression made him think he was perhaps too late. Again.

***

Aaron had described the scene as the men rode out to Richard’s homestead, but words never seemed to truly paint the picture one was walking into in a situation like this. Thankfully, a neighbor had been in the vicinity and was able to track down Aaron who tended to the family as best he could before riding out to get Jeb. But no amount of preparation could reduce the shock and sickness Jeb felt when he stepped across the threshold and into Richard’s home. Out on the edge of town like this, things tended to be quiet. Jeb himself had chosen his home for that very reason. Like most towns, the closer one got to the center, the rowdier things could become. It was the perfect place for the sheriff’s station, but in the evening, the lawmen tended to choose calmer, more removed areas to call home.

The general disarray, the overturned table, broken chairs and windows — these things were not uncommon in Jeb’s experience. But the setting, seeing this was the table where he’d had many a dinner, seeing these were the chairs and windows Jeb had helped build when Richard moved to town and took the deputy’s position, this carried a heavier weight. Richard’s body was crumpled in the corner of the room, an arm thrown back across his eyes as if shielding him from the horror of his home.

Richard’s children, little four-year-old Benjamin and Daisy, not even six months yet, had come to feel like Jeb’s own. Since losing his own family that dark day, Jeb had done his best to keep acquaintances at an arm’s length, all relationships professional and attachments loose. But Shae Tulley, Richard’s wife — Widow, Jeb corrected himself — hadn’t tolerated any of Jeb’s stand-offishness. The woman who had been nearly as much of a part of their team as any other now sat huddled in the corner, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders covering her just past the knee, Daisy quietly suckling at her breast.

“It was the best I could do,” Aaron was saying quietly beside him. “And she fought me on that, too. I don’t know who was here, Jeb, but they ransacked this place.” He swallowed. “They didn’t leave her alone either.”

Jeb looked over at the man briefly, understanding the weight of the words, and slowly made his way over to where Shae sat silently, staring off into empty space, the baby in her arms and Benjamin curled up asleep beside her. The woman’s long dark hair hung in tangles around her face. Tears had made streaks down her cheeks through the dust and dirt kicked up during the attack. A cut split her bottom lip. He reached out to pull the blanket up slightly higher on her shoulder, but the woman jerked back, fear still overwhelming recognition in her eyes.

Jeb slowly moved his hand back. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

Shae merely pulled Daisy closer to her chest with one arm, putting a protective hand over her sleeping son next to her.

“It’s okay,” Jeb said again, quietly. He kept his movements slow, deliberate, his open hands out to his sides. Holding the woman’s gaze, he backed across the room to where Aaron still stood at the door, gesturing the man outside to the porch.

The wooden overhang that he, Aaron, and Richard had repaired the previous summer was still solid, giving shade and a blessed coolness from the glaring Texas sun. Richard had cut down every tree around the place, Jeb remembered. The former deputy had loved the open view, the city close, but off in the distance just enough to be appreciated without being overwhelming.

“What all do we know?” Jeb asked the deputy.

“Not a lot,” Aaron said. “After fetching you I was fixing to head back out and find the neighbor fella that pulled me in. Figured I’d talk to him, have a sit-down with folks out this way. Find out what people seen or heard. Figure out if there’s been any new faces in town.”

“She say anything to you yet?” Jeb asked.

“Naw,” Aaron said. “Don’t expect her to, either. She fought me enough about the blanket, but I couldn’t just let her lay there exposed.”

“I appreciate that,” the sheriff said. “I’m sure she will too, eventually. For now, go find out anything you can. Someone comes after one of us like this, I get the feeling it’s no accident.”

“Want me to send the doc over?”

“Yeah,” Jeb said. “Him and his wife, too, if ya can. I think Shae’s probably seen enough men for one day.”

“You got it, Jeb. Anything else?”

Jeb looked out at the vastness of the territory. He’d been chasing down men for years in the scrub, the dust, the unforgiving heat in this and the surrounding counties. A man could make it real difficult to be found, if he so desired. But, Jeb thought, no one could hide forever. If it took the rest of his days, Jeb was going to find the men responsible for this and bring them to justice.

“Jeb?” Aaron said again, bringing him out of his reverie.

“No,” Jeb said, looking over at the man. “You go out and gather up some information. Just don’t come back empty-handed.”

The deputy looked as if he was going to speak, then instead nodded curtly and walked over to his horse, saddling up and riding off without another word. Jeb watched the dust cloud form behind the man, pondering the best way to let the woman know she would be protected, or what would also be the surest way to find the degenerates responsible. The scene in the home left Jeb with more questions than answers. A struggle, a murder, but no robbery. An attack on the woman, but no clear sign of why.

Something in the back of Jeb’s mind taunted him. It should be clearer than this. His only theory so far though, that Richard was targeted specifically because he was a lawman, was something Jeb knew could be the beginning of something dangerous for everyone in the town, not just the ones with stars.

Chapter One

Later that evening, Shae sat at the smooth wooden dining table in the sheriff’s home. The sun had set on the day; her children were sleeping upstairs in an extra room, but unless it came from pure exhaustion, Shae didn’t see any sleep in her near future. Every time she closed her eyes, horror came to her vision. The violence. The blood. The screams. Poor Richard, gunned down simply for wanting to protect his family. The emotions rushed through her again, as they had been doing all day, as they would likely continue to do for who knew how long. So much of the day had become a blur for her. Flashes of images, sounds, fighting. She almost longed for the numbness that had allowed her to retreat from the worst of it.

Almost. Shae knew there was no integrity in hiding, no valor in running from problems. As she looked into the cup of tea the sheriff had made her, she saw the reflection of the flickering candles in the room. One small flame would’ve been too little, but together they lit up the space. Together they made a difference. She might be just one small flame, but she could help Jeb and Aaron, could do something to assist in bringing about the justice she and her children and the memory of her husband deserved.

She looked over at Jeb. The man had been quiet most of the day. Reserved, but still firmly in charge. She was thankful yet again for his taking command of the situation. Within the hour they’d been moved from their home to his, clothing found, the children bathed, the blood washed away. Her cuts and bruises still stung; her body had been abused in so many ways. But the man had said nothing, merely taken her family into his home as if they were his own.

It would be so simple to revel in the solitude, hide in the silence the sheriff was allotting her. But that would accomplish nothing. If she didn’t speak now, it would only grow harder as time moved on.

“I’m ready,” Shae said, holding the mug of tea to keep her hands from shaking.

Jeb turned slightly in his chair. The man would be intimidating if she hadn’t known him so well. He was tall, dark-haired with dark eyes. Someone more than one young lady had called handsome since Shae had known him. But his past, mostly only hinted at in conversations she and Richard had late at night, kept walls up around the lawman. His confidence, sometimes seen as arrogance, was exactly what she needed in the moment. He believed she could be strong and, for whatever reason, she didn’t want to let him down.

“I’m not going to make you relive this,” Jeb said, setting his cup of coffee on the table between them. “A lot of it we can figure out just fine on our own. What I can’t do is see the faces, or hear the words. I know none of this will be pleasant, but you know the things I can’t know. Most importantly, who I need to bring in.”

“That’s the thing, Jeb,” she sighed out. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen them before.”

“It’s all right, Shae. Even that’s a good place to start. You said ‘them.’ How many are we talking?”

“Three,” she said without hesitation, her hands subconsciously moving to her wrists.

She saw the man glance down and folded her hands again, trying to shake the image of being held down, violated. Jeb knew the conversation was making her uncomfortable. The woman couldn’t sit still. She stood suddenly, took a seat just as often. Wandered from the dining table to the small kitchen behind her, back out past him into the front room.

“I know this was a terrible time,” Jeb said. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. But if you saw them again, would you be able to recognize them? Was there anything that stood out to you? Scars? Voices? Anything like that?”

The memories flooded back over her. She thought she’d been prepared for it, but the onslaught was overwhelming. Her fear for the baby. Benjamin calling out to his father, trying, again and again, to wake him as the man lay dead on the floor of their home.

“Shae,” she heard Jeb whisper. “It’s all right. It’s over.”

He’d been telling her that constantly throughout the day. It was her first clear memory after the chaos had subsided. But it wasn’t all right. She didn’t know how she could ever feel safe again. Not in that house. Maybe not even in this town. Every time she’d step outside she would wonder who was watching her, if they were coming back. Somehow even worse was that the man before her had seen her at her most vulnerable. She vaguely remembered Aaron bringing her a blanket, but still, that barely covered the embarrassment of being found the way she had been. Naked, shamed, broken.

She forced herself to meet Jeb’s eyes across the table.

“None of this will be all right,” she said, “until you’ve found these men and they hang for what they’ve done. Maybe not even then.”

“Good,” Jeb surprised her by saying. “Use that anger. They want to make you a victim, but you don’t let them. I’ll make them pay for this and you are going to be the one to help me do it.”

“I don’t know what I can do though, Jeb.” She felt her voice shake. The emotions came in rapid floods, contradicting one another, fighting for precedent. Fear, anger, shame, guilt. Each moment put another at the forefront of her mind, confusing her thoughts and motivations. “If I saw them, would I recognize them? Yes. At least I believe so. It was just so much all at once. The children, and … and Richard. He tried to protect us, Jeb, he truly did. But there was just no chance. It was all so sudden. They burst in and …” her voice faltered at the memory.

“And being a strong woman, you wanted to protect your children,” Jeb prompted her gently.

“Yes,” she wiped at her eyes. “I had Daisy in her crib … Benjamin was …” she looked up at the ceiling, fighting tears. “Benjamin was playing on the floor. They came in and Richard jumped up, you know, trying to get between us and them. I tried to get Benjamin to come to me, but he was scared, Jeb. So scared. Richard argued with the men, tried to get them outside, but then, something happened … I was” — her voice caught — “I was reaching out for Ben when I heard the shot. Richard fell between us and, I know this is awful, but I thought maybe they would leave then, maybe they had done what they intended and would get away from my children.”

Jeb stunned her by reaching across the table and putting his rough, calloused hand on top of hers. She hadn’t realized how badly she was shaking until that moment.

“You were both trying to protect the little ones,” he said quietly.

“Of course!” she almost shouted the words, then, fearing she would wake the children, lowered her tone. “Of course we were. Richard loved us deeply. And then he was gone. And then …” She felt her control slipping as she remembered what happened next, the gruffness of the men, the sick laughter as she fought against them while they tore off her clothes, pushed her legs apart …

“Shae,” she could hear Jeb saying. “Shae, you’re here now. No one’s coming into this house. No one’s going to lay a finger on you while I’m still breathing.”

His tone cut through her mind. The softness, the gentleness wrapped around an iron resolve. Richard was a protector, to be sure. But he was quick to anger, quick to put it on display. This was different. Jeb wasn’t cold, just the opposite. This approach, though — his gentleness was something she hadn’t experienced before.

Shae looked at the man. “I believe you,” she said, her voice still wavering slightly.

“How about we wrap this up for now?” Jeb suggested.

“But, I …”

What? What did she really want to say? The truth was, Jeb had gotten to the heart of what she didn’t even know she was feeling. She just wanted the day to be over.

“Like I was saying before,” the sheriff began, “I’ve got more than enough room for you here. This house is probably too big for one fella on his own, anyway. You go on upstairs and get some rest with the young ‘uns. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“I thank you for your hospitality, sincerely,” Shae said. “In the morning, I’ll look for somewhere we can stay until …”

Until when? She didn’t know if she could ever set foot in that house again.

Jeb stood and gathered their mugs from the table. “Let’s not worry about that for the time being. If it eases your conscience, you just tell yourself I want you here so I know you’re safe. If you feel better calling it a favor, well, you can do that as well. Whatever you wanna call it, you just plan on staying here until we come up with a plan we all like.”

“All right.” She moved toward the stairs gingerly. Her body begged her for rest; every muscle ached. But she wanted to say something more than a “thank you.’ The words seemed too simple, too light for what had happened that day.

She watched him move calmly around the house, willing some of his confidence to encourage the same in her.

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Get some rest, Shae. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Shae nodded and walked up the stairs toward the room where her children slept. Rest might be a task easier said than done, she thought. But somehow, she felt the sheriff’s presence just might make it possible.