Another Dawn (38 page)

      
He crept around the corner of the house, certain the temperature had fallen well below freezing. Even the threat of frostbite didn't matter, as long as he kept going until he saved Sofie and Jenny....

      
Holding his breath, he reached for the door knob, knowing if he found it unlocked, that would mean the killer was already inside.
Please, let it be locked.

      
The knob turned easily and the door squeaked slightly as he pulled it open. The killer was already in there–Luke had to hurry, but he also had to use his head.

      
Quickly, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Hoping his heavy breathing wouldn't give him away, he paused until it slowed and quieted. He flexed his nearly frozen fingers and started across the kitchen toward the parlor door.

      
Luke took another step, then another. He put his hand out to feel any obstacle in his path. What should he do? Just waltz through the door like nothing was wrong? He didn't even have a gun, not that he'd know how to use one.

      
He froze halfway across the dark room. A prickly sensation crept up the back of his neck and danced across his scalp. Instinct screamed.

      
Someone else was in the kitchen.

      
Whoever it was had to have seen Luke, so hiding again was pointless. He held his breath and turned toward the back door. Pale moonlight now spilled through the window he'd peeked through earlier, bathing the room in a silver glow that reminded him of a blacklight.

      
A shadow shifted near the back door and Luke flattened himself against the wall next to the kitchen door. His gaze roamed the room, waiting for the intruder to make another move. He had to do something to stop the killer. Whatever it took.

      
Even kill?

      
He suppressed a shudder and knew if it came to that, he would kill to protect Sofie and Jenny. God help him.

      
The silver light wasn't enough. Whoever was in here with him, was obviously being as cautious as Luke about remaining hidden. Then a cloud drifted across the moon and the room went black again.

      
Shit.

      
The only sound Luke heard was the thunder of his own heart, but he took comfort in the knowledge that the other man wouldn't be able to see him either. All things were equal in the dark. It didn't matter who was bigger or faster or stronger. Even a gun wouldn't do much good in the dark.

      
Luke pressed his ear to the door, trying to hear any sounds from the parlor. All he heard were muffled, unidentifiable voices. They could've been male, female, or both.

      
Resuming his position flat against the wall, he remained totally still, figuring his only chance was to out-wait the other guy. Sooner or later...

      
A shuffling sound jerked Luke's attention to the other side of the closed door. He still couldn't see anything, except that sliver of light spilling under the door.
 

      
Carefully, he looked across the patch of light to the far edge, sweat trickling down his forehead and stinging his eyes. He blinked, then looked again to make certain he wasn't imagining things.

      
The patch of light was almost a square, with straight lines on three sides. However, the fourth side–directly across from Luke–wasn't quite straight. Something on the floor marred the line. Something unmistakable. Luke's blood turned the consistency of a slurpee.

      
Ten human toes.

      
Sofie tried to stop her trembling as she pulled Jenny closer. Huddled together on the settee, they stared at the crazed man standing a few feet away, firelight gleaming off the barrel of his gun. She knew the back door had been bolted, but Frank Latimer still found a way into the house.
 

      
And his intentions were clear.

      
"So you was there when your daddy got killed," Latimer said rather than asked. His gaze narrowed as he took a step closer, then stopped again. "Tell Uncle Frank what you seen, girl. A man's gotta right to know who killed his own kin."

      
A convulsive wave went through Jenny, and Sofie wrapped her arms even more tightly around the child. No one had to tell her who had killed Charlie Latimer. Though she'd suspected before, now she knew for certain. What kind of man would murder his own brother?

      
Frank took another step, raising his gun higher. "C'mon, girl, what'd you see?" he barked, brandishing his heavy weapon as if it weighed nothing. "I ain't got all night."

      
Jenny shook her head, and Frank's face darkened. He shook the gun toward her. "How am I gonna help Shane if you don't tell me, girl? How?"

      
The child shook her head again and Sofie prayed.

      
"Just go away and leave her be," she said, pushing Jenny behind her as she stood. Determined to protect Jenny no matter what, Sofie lifted her chin a notch and met Latimer's gaze. "She's a child, so just
go."

      
"I ain't goin' nowhere, see?" Frank's eyes glazed and he circled toward the fire, never lowering his gun. "She's gonna ruin it all, and I can't let that happen."

      
Sofie swallowed, aware of Jenny clutching handfuls of her voluminous skirt. She rotated slightly to keep herself completely between Frank Latimer and his niece.

      
Of course, if he killed her, she wouldn't be here to protect Jenny at all. Where was Luke? Marshal Weathers? Ab? Dr. Wilson? Anyone?

      
But she knew very well that everyone in town was at the wedding reception. With music and dancing, no one would hear the sound of Frank Latimer's gun. She trembled again but refused to lower her gaze.

      
"We...we don't know what you're talking about," she said, realizing from the wild look in his eyes that the man was desperate, if not crazy.
 

      
Desperate people did desperate things.

      
Crazy and desperate was even more dangerous.

      
"She knows. The sheriff said there was a witness, and I seen her that night."

      
Please, just shut up
. If he told them what he thought they already knew, they were both as good as dead. "We don't know anything, and you're frightening Jenny."
 
Sofie didn't budge, though he took another menacing step.

      
"Charlie was a loser anyway," Frank continued, his expression growing distant. "Always was. Couldn't stay sober most of the time, so every time he made a dime, he lost it."

      
Sofie didn't want to hear this. She kept her hands at her sides and slightly behind her, with Jenny's shoulders firmly between them.
God, please help us.

      
"When he found that rich vein..."
 
Frank shook his head and made a snorting sound. "Well, I knew then what had to be done."

      
He moved sideways, toward the back of the settee, and Sofie rotated with him, keeping Jenny behind her. The settee was now between them and the killer, though it offered little reassurance.

      
A slight movement startled her, then she realized the kitchen door was pushed open partway. She drew a deep breath, willing herself not to turn toward the door. Drawing Frank's attention to their possible rescuer would be foolish.

      
Whoever it was, she hoped he was armed.

      
"Please, stop," she said, hoping to buy time. "You're frightening Jenny, and we really don't know what you're talking about."

      
A look of confusion crossed his face, and his gun lowered ever so slightly. Maybe he didn't really want to kill his niece. Maybe there was hope.

      
"Of course you know," he said, raising his gun up to its previous level. "Charlie was a loser, but he always had all the luck. Got a good wife, won at poker, then minin'."
 
Frank sighed, then chuckled without a trace of humor. "Stupid bastard couldn't keep nothin'."

      
The man sneaking through the kitchen door wasn't alone. Though she didn't dare turn enough to discover their identity, Sofie made out two distinct shapes moving toward Frank.
 

      
Thank you, God.

      
"But Jenny's just a child," Sofie said quietly, hoping to keep Frank's attention diverted. "I don't know why you think she's a threat to you."

      
"'Cuz I seen her runnin' away that night."
 
He shook the gun and his eyes blazed with fury. "If there was a witness, she's it. That little snot-nosed kid's gonna cost me. I thought Shane was taken care of, but thanks to Jenny, now that ain't even true no more."

      
Jenny whimpered behind her just as the room went berserk. Luke grabbed Frank around the throat from behind as someone else–someone naked!–dove from the end of the settee for the gun. The men struggled, but the gun discharged as it flew from Frank's hand.

      
Pain blasted through Sofie's shoulder. Another explosion sounded from across the room. She was vaguely aware of two things as she hit the floor.

      
Jenny's screams.

      
And blood.

Chapter 15

      
Luke shoved Frank Latimer's body off him and leapt to his feet.
Sofie
. His gaze zeroed in on Sofie's crumpled form lying in a pool of blood and his heart skipped a beat. No, several.

      
He stepped over Latimer, not caring if the creep was dead or alive, and dropped to his knees beside the woman he loved. Her face was so pale–deathly pale. Gently, he rolled her onto her back and found the source of all the blood.

      
"The shoulder ain't as bad as it looks."
 
Sam Weathers holstered his still smoking gun and stooped beside Luke. He removed his bandanna and pressed it against Sofie's wound. "She'll come 'round in a minute, but that bullet's gotta come out. You keep pressin' on that, and I'll fetch the doc."