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“Trust me.”
Pa rode on his other side. “I’m guessing Brand won’t do anything stupid, because if he does, that little gal back there is fair game.”
Several of the man laughed in a way that made Brand’s fists coil around the reins until his knuckles shone white. He chomped back the bile that burned up his throat. “Pa, remember your promise.”
“Son, I ain’t forgetting the promise was in exchange for leading us to the money.”
“I’m doing the best I can.” Unfortunately, his best was not much. He let memories of Sybil fill his mind, giving him determination to do whatever must be done.
Sybil sitting under a tree near the ranch, bent over some book, the sunlight glistening on her golden curls.
Sybil gritting her teeth and holding Dawg while Brand sewed him up.
Sybil telling him stories she’d made up. Would she ever get a chance to get them printed?
Would he succeed in gaining her release?
The trail widened. Dust kicked up from the horses’ hooves. In the distance the buildings of Edendale could be seen.
Cyrus grabbed Brand’s reins and jerked them to a halt. “What kind of trick is this?”
“No trick. Money is kept in the store.” Not Eddie’s, but someone’s was there.
Cyrus hung on to the reins as he considered the notion. “What do you think, Pa?”
Pa studied the situation. “Don’t much care for riding into a town. Too many places people can hide. Maybe it’s a trap.”
Brand wished it could be. “Pa, how was I to plan a trap? I didn’t even know you were around. And I have only been in town twice. Once to ride through and once to get some biscuits. A young couple bakes bread and biscuits for the store, so there are always fresh ones on hand.”
Still they didn’t move.
Finally Pa sighed. “I keep thinking of that gal back at the camp. We watched Brand with her. Know he’s fond of her. My question is would he trick us if he thought she’d suffer for it?”
Brand met his pa’s gaze, letting him see the truth. He would risk his own skin before he’d let them hurt Sybil.
Pa nodded. “I don’t figure he would. Come on, boys.” He signaled for the others to follow. “But keep your eyes peeled.”
He and Cyrus pressed close to Brand. He’d never be able to get away, call out a warning. Do anything.
He’d never felt so helpless in his life. This would surely end badly. But if Sybil escaped unharmed, he could live with the fact. Or die with it comforting him.
They rode forward slowly, watching for any sign of danger. The town appeared sleepy in the slanting afternoon sun. One horse stood in front of the store. A whirlwind of dust swept down the street. A screen door slapped in the wind. Smoke rose from the chimney of the stopping house behind the store, and the aroma of fresh bread filled the air.
They rode closer. Every nerve in Brand’s body twitched. What lay ahead? He felt the same tension in Pa and Cyrus. Their hands lingered on their guns. Would he escape this day without someone being shot?
They rode up to the store and the seven of them lined up in a row, facing the closed door. Through the window, they saw a barrel, some hardware hanging from the ceiling and the counter holding an assortment of jars and tins. But not a sign of life.
“Could be he’s in the back room,” Brand said, his neck prickling.
“Let’s go see. You can go first.” Cyrus ordered two of the men to stay with the horses, then pressed his gun to Brand’s back.
Their boots rang in the silence as they climbed the steps and shoved open the door. Brand paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior. Cyrus nudged him with his gun.
“Where’s the money?”
Brand didn’t know. How was he supposed to, when he was making this up? He’d never ridden a wild horse that filled him with more tension.
“Guess you need to ask the salesclerk.”
Cyrus yelled, “Hello?” sending a jolt of alarm up and down Brand’s spine.
A noise came from the door to the living quarters. The handle jiggled. Brand recognized the man who stepped through the door. And it wasn’t Macpherson. Why was the man in civilian clothes? Brand’s nerves skittered madly. Something was amiss.
