Page 84 of In Honor’s Defense

It didn’t help that he stood near a gun case filled to capacity with hunting rifles and no doubt enough ammunition to hold off an army.

Damaris turned her face away from the vile man and continued to the table, where a few sheets of paper sat in front of a vacant chair. She settled into the seat and reached for the papers, hating that her fingers trembled, revealing her nervousness.

She held the papers before her, but her eyes absorbed nothing of the content. Lacking the speed or strength to escape, her only option was to delay Mullins as long as possible. Give the Horsemen time to find her.

And if they didn’t?

Take care of Nathaniel, Lord.

“I do apologize for all the dramatics.” Mullins sat in the chair across from her, reached inside his coat, and pulled out a fountain pen. “It could all have been avoided if you had just taken my advice from the beginning and accepted the price Harbinger offered.”

Damaris couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “You could have simply accepted no for an answer.”

“Afraid not, my dear.” He extracted a vial of ink from his vest pocket and unhooked it from a gold fob chain. “You see, I owe a very dangerous man a significant amount of money, and the only way to acquire that money is to gain the bonus Harbinger promised for securing all the acreage needed for the railroad spur they have planned for Madisonville. Since Oliver Grimes finally agreed to sell a portion of his land, the property in your trust is the last piece I need to complete the set.”

He unscrewed the vial’s lid, then withdrew an eyedropper and began methodically filling the reservoir in his Waterman pen. “Grimes proved nearly as stubborn as you Baxters. His hiring of Mr. Davenport nearly undid all my hard work. He scared off the rustlers we hired as soon as they realized he didn’t have the decency to die following their altercation. Afraid of being identified or some such nonsense. I would have protected them, of course, but no matter. I found a way to get what I wanted from Grimes, and I’ll get what I want from you, too.”

“All this—the rustling, the attack on Luke, what happened to my brother—it was all because you owed someone money?” Even knowing how precarious her situation was, Damaris couldn’t keep the scorn from her voice. “You’re a murderer.”

Mr. Mullins halted his deliberate ink dropping. “What happened to your brother was an unfortunate accident. My associate got a little carried away in his efforts to convince Douglas to sell.” He shot a scowl toward Colburn.

“Weren’t my fault the fool was so muleheaded.” Colburn turned from keeping watch out the window to glare at Mullins. “I woulda stopped dunkin’ his head in that rain barrel if he’d just signed the paper. Ornery cuss kept fightin’. I had to hold him under longer and longer. I didn’t realize I’d drowned him ’til it was too late. Caused me no end of trouble. Loadin’ his carcass in a wagon bed and coverin’ him with straw so I could get him out to the lake unseen. Then waitin’ ’til no one was around and rowin’ him out past the shoreline. At least with the kid, I coulda just left his body to rot in the fire.” His glare shifted to Damaris. “You’re turning out to be as much trouble as your brother.”

“But if you cooperate,” Mr. Mullins said with a pointed glance at Colburn, “we’ll let you go.” He smiled and patted her hand. “You can be on a train home tonight.”

Damaris released the papers and pulled her hand away from his touch. “Even I am not that naïve, sir. I can link you to a known arsonist, cattle rustler, and confessed murderer.”

“You forget that I have connections in high circles. People who owe me favors. Powerful people. Colburn is an outlaw who can disappear on a whim, and without him in custody, there is only your word against mine. With my long-standing relationship with the judges in the area, I’m not worried about winning that battle. I’ve committed no actual crimes, after all.”

He was skilled in presenting a swaying argument. She almost believed him. But not quite. He had too much on the line. He wouldn’t risk his future on a chance, even a good chance, when he could assure it. Still, it might be best to let him think she believed his lies.

“You’ll really let me go?”

The obsequious grin returned. “I’m a man of my word, Miss Baxter.”

Yet he had not actually given his word on anything.

“And if I choose not to sign?”

His smile flattened as he shook his head. “That, I’m afraid, I cannot allow.” He capped his vial of ink and tested the fountain pen on a blank sheet of paper. An elegant black slash streaked across the page. “If you choose to be difficult, my associate will offer you . . . encouragement until you decide to comply.” He tipped his head toward Colburn, who unsheathed a large hunting knife and tested the sharpness with the pad of his thumb. “It will be most unpleasant, I fear.”

Colburn grinned with far too much relish as he pointed the tip of the knife in her direction. The same knife, no doubt, that had caused Luke such pain. The one that nearly ended his life.

With a thick swallow, Damaris picked up the documents Mr. Mullins had prepared, placed them in front of her, and slowly began to read.

With a huff of impatience, the lawyer slid the bottom sheet out from beneath the page she was reading and slapped it onto the table near her right elbow. “All we need is a signature, Miss Baxter. No need to read the fine print.” He held out the pen.

“I disagree. I must ensure this document only pertains to the sale of my brother’s property. Once I have ascertained the details of the agreement, I will be ready to proceed.”

He groaned but set down the pen and nodded.

It might only buy her ten to fifteen minutes, but it was ten or fifteen minutes in which God could work to bring the Horsemen.

She prayed it would be enough.

“What do you see, Brooks?” Lying flat on his belly at the top of a small rise a good hundred yards from the Harbinger hunting cabin, Matt handed the field glasses past Luke to the Horseman with the keenest vision.

It was all Luke could do not to snatch the binoculars as they passed over his head and have a look for himself, but he trusted Jonah’s eyesight more than his own. And they had no time to waste. The only thing keeping him sane at the moment was the wagon and team in the grassy field to the left of the cabin. The men were still here. And if the men were still here, that meant they hadn’t concluded their business yet.