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“Guess he will whether he lives or dies.”
Constable Allen jerked his head around. “You’re right. Justice will prevail either way.” The Mountie rode at his side, directing him down the trail.
Brand thought of the man’s desire for justice. “What if God forgives him?”
The constable considered the question for the better part of half a mile, then sighed. “As a lawman I wish to see man’s justice, but I have to accept that God forgives sinners.” He paused. “And I willingly confess I am a sinner saved by God’s grace. I have no right to resent God extending that same grace to someone like your pa.”
“Maybe you should tell him that.” Brand knew Pa’s salvation had been his ma’s dying wish.
When they should have headed south to the fort, the Mountie indicated they should go west. They would soon reach the ranch if they continued this direction.
Perhaps the Mountie meant to let him see Pa one last time. If so he would tell Pa himself that there was forgiveness in repentance.
“No one else was hurt?”
“A cowboy in the posse got a minor flesh wound on his leg. Nothing that will slow him down.”
They reached the ranch. Brand held back. Only the tug on the rope by the Mountie made him move on. He didn’t want to face Eddie and the others. On the other hand, he’d give his right arm to see Sybil and know she was unharmed.
He heard a bark and looked to see Dawg limping toward him. The ropes made it impossible for Brand to reach down and pick up the animal. “Hi, Dawg.”
The dog walked to his side. Seemed the old mutt would live. Guess if Brand went to jail Dawg would need a new owner.
The Mountie forced him to move forward, up the hill toward the big house. Eddie, Mercy, Linette and Sybil waited for them.
Brand and the Mountie drew to a halt in front of them.
Brand stared at his bound hands. Although the ropes were weather stained in spots, the jute strands were firm, the twists ready to defy any hope of escape. He kept his hands still, his head lowered, hiding his face as much as he could. His cheeks stung as if he’d leaned too close to open flames. What must they think of him? A Duggan. Branded with the same condemnation as his pa and brother. He expected no sympathy. No understanding of his situation. He couldn’t claim innocence, so he wouldn’t try.
He lifted his head a fraction, unable to deprive himself of a glance at Sybil’s face. Would she be angry? Disappointed? But he couldn’t tell from her expression. Seemed she didn’t want him to guess at her feelings, because her face revealed nothing but disinterest. Despite understanding he had no right to speak and would likely be cut short, he let his gaze connect with hers. He schooled himself to reveal none of the regret churning his insides at the thought that this was how she would remember him—bound and headed to jail.
“Glad to see you’re okay,” he said to her, keeping his voice low and impersonal, while inside raged a loud protest. I’m innocent. But he’d made a decision and didn’t intend to cry about the consequences. He had agreed to help the gang in exchange for her life. Not for a moment would he regret it. “Would you look after Dawg for me?”
A fleeting emotion flicked across her eyes. Too fast, too uncertain for him to guess what it was.
What did it matter?
She nodded. “Dawg will be safe with me.”
Her words whispered across his thoughts. If only all his concerns could be so easily dealt with.
* * *
Sybil’s heart hurt with every beat. Seeing Brand tied up, on his way to trial... She crossed her arms over her stomach and gripped her elbows with tense fingers. Jail or worse awaited him. She had told herself over and over to forget about those few days they had shared when she felt drawn to him. It had all been deception. Yes, she’d known he ran from something, but never in ten thousand guesses would she have suspected he was part of the infamous Duggan gang.
“Get down,” Constable Allen said, holding a rope that kept Brand from considering flight.
Sybil averted her eyes, unable to bear the sight of Brand’s humiliation.
Dawg leaped to his master, placed his paws on his waist and whined.
From the corner of her eyes, she saw Brand pat Dawg’s head with hands bound so tightly she knew they must hurt.
