Page 44 of The Copper Heir
Hunter didn’t bother to answer the question. She had taken it to negotiate for Miguel and no one would make him believe differently. “Give it up, Cas.”
Cas was smart enough to raise his hands in surrender. Both men made their way in the dark to the stables, keeping a wary eye on the barn which was roughly two hundred yards further out across a black expanse of pasture. It came as no surprise when Angel told them moments later that Cinnamon was missing, though all the saddles were accounted for.
“Send Jim along the road to town to see if he can find her.” The stable hand should be able to overtake her as easily as Hunter could.
But, only moments later, he knew that wouldn’t be necessary. Jim came into the stable, leading a spooked Cinnamon. Her bridle had been put in place, but not the saddle. His gaze once again went back over to the barn and a cold chill swept down his spine. If she was hurt because of those brainless cowards, he’d kill every single one of them.
“Let’s get a man at every door of the barn. We can only assume Campbell came with his men and we can’t risk any of them getting out,” Cas ordered.
“We have to get in there.” Hunter muttered, staring toward the cart that rested just outside the stables. They used it to carryseed and occasionally water barrels out into the fields. It was heavy and, if they loaded it down even more, it just might break open the barn doors.
“What are you thinking?” Cas asked.
Hunter nodded toward the cart. “The feed should load it down. We get it heavy enough, we can push it right into the barn doors, splinter the boards.”
Cas nodded his agreement and they quickly set about getting it filled with the bags of feed. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but he couldn’t sit around while Emmy’s life was on the line. The longer they waited, the more time it gave the Campbells to come up with a plan. Or to at least take high positions in the loft in an attempt to start picking them off with shots so they couldn’t approach the barn. They had to get in there fast.
Before Emmy could reason out why Ship was there with a gun pointed at them, Pete wrapped an arm around her shoulders, positioning her in front of him as a shield, and then pulled out his own gun, ramming it into her ribs. She shrieked in protest and struggled until he pushed the muzzle against her even harder and barked a warning in her ear. Ship didn’t say a word as he wrapped the reins of his horse around a hook, pulled the door closed behind him and latched it. Smith made a move as Ship was throwing the board leaned against the wall into the block, but Ship yelled for him to stand still, then drew his other gun once his hand was free.
A shaft of moonlight came in through windows tucked in just under the roof and glinted off the barrels of the guns he held in each hand: one aimed at Smith and the other aimed at her and Pete. As he walked toward them, she noticed that he looked haggard, as if he hadn’t bathed in weeks. His normally well-groomed, salt-and-pepper hair was in disarray and there was a gray beard on his usually clean-shaven face. A body was tiedacross the back of his horse. It was a young man with dark hair whom she assumed to be Miguel, but if he was alive or dead, she couldn’t tell.
“Ship! You’re alive.” Too relieved to see him to heed Pete’s warning, she pushed at her stepbrother with her elbows. “I was so afraid Pete had done something awful.”
“Shut up, Em!” Pete tightened his grip and glared back at Ship. “How’d you get here?” He glanced to the closed door behind them, the one they had just come through, as if to make sure it was still latched. “What’d you do to Rowly, old man? You kill him so you could take that boy from me?”
“I followed you. Rowly outlived his usefulness the second he ran off with you, so I thought I’d put him out of his misery. What you’re doing ain’t smart, Petey. Nobody takes over my gang. Nobody.”
Pete laughed in her ear. “You ran ’em off yerself, you yellow coward, when you wanted to trade that boy for the girls and give up that money.”
“They’re your sisters.”
“Who gives a damn? You know how much we could get for that boy? Reyes has money. Maybe we would, too, if you weren’t so chickenshit. You ain’t in charge no more.”
“Not your choice, Petey.”
“The hell it ain’t. We don’t listen to you. Not now. Rowly and Smith left with me because they know I can get us where we want to be.” He jabbed the gun into her ribs again, making her wince. “I hoped you’d come to your senses, but get the hell out if yer here to cause trouble.”
“Not gonna do that. Reyes has Ginny and Rose. We’re giving Miguel back to him.”
“Yer a stupid coward, Ship. Take the money. Let him have those brats.”
“They’re family. That’s important, something I guess you know nothing about. I failed with you, boy.”
Pete cursed and tightened his grip on her. “Last chance, Ship.”
“I ain’t letting you do this,” Ship warned.
Pete laughed, but it was nervous laughter. Smith hadn’t drawn his gun and from what she could remember, he wasn’t a very good shot. There was no way out for Pete. Ship would kill them both before she even hit the ground and then the whole place would be swarming with Hunter’s men, alerted by the shooting. The very thought made her close her eyes, her mind racing for a solution.
“The difference between us, old man, is that you think family is worth something. You won’t shoot me, but I’ll sure as hell shoot you. Now put down yer guns and get the hell out of here. Smith warned me you’d try to mess this up. Put down the guns and I might even share some of the ransom. Hell, I’m feeling generous. This bitch brought money of her own. You can have some of that.”
“Ten thousand dollars!” Smith chimed in, as if proud to have something to add to the conversation, but he kept his arms out wide, away from his gun.
“Yep.” She could hear the smile in Pete’s voice. “Stole it like a good little whore. Just like her mother.”
A look of pain crossed Ship’s face. He glanced at her for a moment as if to determine for himself if that were true, but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he said, “We already lost Hardy to Reyes’s bullet. Rowly’s dead. You’ve only got Smith left and we both know he’s smart as a rock. This ain’t worth it. The gang’s gone.”
“It ain’t gone, you just ran most of ’em off years ago. I’ll round ’em up, get us going again. Yer gang is dead. Mine is just starting,” Pete spouted back.
