Sacred Ground (24 page)

She nodded, and he stared after her. He missed her already.

Chapter Fourteen

Willow
crossed the drive deep in thought. Her ranch had the water and horses. Brett's ranch had the oil. Wyatt's ranch had nothing but debts, yet Gordon wanted it all. How did he expect to get away with it?

Absently, she allowed the screen door to slam behind her. Gordon. Only Gordon could have planned this out. His devious mind could only hurt those around him. She reached for the phone and dialed.

"Mike Ferrell please"

"Hello, this is Mike, may I help you?"

Willow
cleared her dry throat. "Mike, this is Willow Howling Moon. I hate to bother you but Brett Turner asked me to call you if something happened to him. He’s in trouble. He said you were his friend; he could count on you to be there for him. Is that true?"

"I'd do anything for Brett. You two are talking to each other? Damn, I'd never have believed it. Did Brett have another incident at the ranch?"

"It's more serious than that," she paused, wondering how to explain it. "I think someone is trying to kill him." She caught a movement to her right.

"Are you sure? Who the hell would want Brett dead?"

Willow
hesitated in answering. "He's missing and I fear the worst for him."

"How long has he been gone?" Mike asked.

"Since yesterday afternoon.
I know that doesn't sound very long, but with all those terrible things happening on his ranch, well, I think you should check it out."

"It's too early to file a missing person's report. I'll have a talk with Mrs. Turner, but I doubt if there’s anything to worry about. I'll look into it."

Willow
wondered if she heard uncertainty, even slight worry in his tone. "Thank you. You realize I don't have the time of day for Brett Turner, but I certainly don't wish him ill. I appreciate your checking into it."

"My pleasure,
Willow
.
I'll stop by and let you know if I've found out anything."

"That would be nice. When you talk to Mrs. Turner, tell her I said to get those boys packing. Talk to you later, Mike." She placed the receiver back into its cradle.

"Nice performance!"

Willow
jumped and turned toward the knowing voice. "It really is you, isn't it?"

"What, not surprised? You're lacking enthusiasm, my dear. How warm a welcome is this? Why, you're dearly departed husband is back after nearly six months? Surely a passionate kiss and body-grinding hug would be more appropriate, don't you think, wife?"

"Stay away from me. I know what you're up to, and it's not going to work. I'm not marrying Wyatt, and I won't let you destroy Brett or me. You and Wyatt killed that hitchhiker. That’s cold-blooded murder. You've been sabotaging Brett's ranch, that's against the law too." She took a step back toward the counter.

"First off, I'm dead, not some filthy vagrant. Second, there's no proof I did any illegal acts on Brett's ranch. Don't think I don't know you two are playing house. Where is he?"

Willow
stared at the man she'd married. Hatred and loathing filled her. "What do you mean?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"You slut.
Gave it to a half-breed, didn't you? I'm your husband, and it's me you give it to."

Another step back brought her spine against the counter top. She leaned her elbow across it, extending her arm down in a smooth gesture. Reaching her destination,
Willow
enclosed her fingers around the steak knife. "You're one to talk. You've been with more women than I care to count. Not that it matters to me, better them than me."

"I'll make you pay!" he shouted, stomping toward her.

"Back," she yelled, holding the knife in front of her chest.

"Think that toy will keep me from having you? Not likely," he said, snickering.

She glared at him. All the hurt, all the fear, and all the hatred surfaced. "Don't come near me, Gordon. I won't take your abuse ever again. Leave while you still can, and I won't tell a soul you're alive."

"Aren't you going to have me arrested for murder? Not so sure you can make anyone believe you, are you? Maybe you and Wyatt were keeping me hostage, and I just got free."

"Don't be ridiculous!” she said, gripping the knife. “For what reason would we keep you alive and fake your death? I wouldn't benefit by that. I mean, heck, I got a death benefit and the entire ranch. I’m better off with you dead. Shoots your theory down, doesn't it?"

"I'm sure I can think of an answer, given time."

"You’ve made a few mistakes, Gordon. Like the bullet wounds on the hitchhiker that weren't completely destroyed by the wolves’ feeding frenzy. I'll bet if they tested your guns they'd find the murder weapon."

"True, but that would only point to one conclusion."

"What conclusion?" How desperately she wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.

"That you did it. I'm dead, but the murder weapon is where? Police might find that interesting. What do you think will happen to your brat, when they lock you up in prison?"

"I'm innocent of your death if you escaped your abductors, aren't I?" She hoped he wouldn't notice how her body trembled. "I'm not worried about Lance. His relatives will take good care of him."

"I won't let him near his heathen relatives. He'll work as a ranch hand. I'll kill all those damn buffalo and have that disgusting burial ground dug up and the bones burned."

"Over my dead body!"

"That, my dear, is a certainty." He laughed loud and throaty.

"I figured out what was going on without much trouble. Are you stupid enough to really think Mike Ferrell won't have it figured out soon? You're more of a fool than I thought."
Willow
felt the sting of his palm before she had a chance to react. He grabbed at her, and she stabbed the knife into his hand. His howling reaction gave her time to bolt for the door.

"You bitch!" he snapped, his voice reflecting his pain. "Think you're so damn smart? I'll fix you!" He pulled the knife from the soft tissues of his palm.

She paused between doors, watching him. She should have put the knife through his heart. "How is that, Gordon?"

"I sent your lover to the rattlesnakes. He won't be here to help you. You're on your own."

His smug expression taunted her. She wanted to counter his snide comment with her own revelation, but for Brett's safety, she controlled her anger. "I wouldn't be so sure of anything. You’ve threatened to do great harm to my People and ancestors. The ancient burial grounds are sacred. You won't live if you pursue this."

Blood dripped from his hand, making a puddle on the floor. "Now I suppose I should be shaking in my boots.
Right?
I don't give one heap of shit about your Indian mumbo-jumbo. If they were so intent on protecting their own kind, why didn't those ghosts save your half-breed lover?"

"If I were you I'd check and see if they haven't." She glanced at the blood. “It's a shame you can't have that hand treated by a doctor, risk of infection and all that. But you can't, can you?"

"Why the hell not?"

"Dead men don't need doctors, or have you forgotten? Looks like Mike Ferrell is heading this way. If you want to remain dead, you'd better disappear," she snapped, stepping out onto the porch.

* * *

Brett fought the fogginess that muddled his brain. The medicine helped his pain, but left him incapable of staying awake and alert. How could he help
Willow
if she needed him?

He breathed deep, drawing in a pungent pine scent. His heart beat increased, and he realized he was running, hard and fast, through the thick pine trees. Soft, comfortable moccasins had replaced his tight, confining boots. His body was bare except for the breechclout that hung from his waist. A single buffalo stone necklace bounced against his chest.

In his hand, Brett clenched a bow. His index finger wrapped around an arrow, holding it in place.

Ahead he saw movement. He pushed his body forward, aware a heavy, cumbersome mud-cast did not hinder his leg. Creeping forward, Brett closed in on his enemy.

Gordon Jenkins stood warming his hands by a campfire. A woman dressed in black
Levis
and denim jacket silently stirred a stew. She had her back to him, but he didn't have to see her face to know it was Willow Howling Moon.

On his belly, Brett moved closer. Campfire smoke burned his eyes, yet he refused to move up wind. He had the feeling he'd been tracking this man his whole life. Looking around, Brett realized they were near Rattlesnake Cliff again.

He leaned his shoulder against a small bolder, then inched his face around the edge. He paused, settling his gaze on the beautiful face of
Willow
. Her warm brown eyes stared back at him, and he froze. He read fear and pleading all in one glance. She moved her hand over her heart, and he knew her message of love for him.

He stood, bold, daring . . . a man. He wouldn't hide behind a boulder, or behind prejudices. He would fight to save and protect the woman he loved, the Indian woman he loved.

"Gordon Jenkins, prepare to die," he shouted.

In an instant Gordon twirled around, knife in hand. "So, half-breed, you've finally showed yourself. I killed you once, I can do it again."

"What makes you think I'll stay dead? Three rattlesnakes bit me, yet here I am. My leg was broken, yet here I am. Look at me, I am healed. The old ones are angry with you, Gordon Jenkins. They have sent me as their messenger."

Gordon laughed boisterously. "You don't expect me to believe that, do you? Once you're out of the way, for good, your mother will gladly sell the ranch. If she refuses, I foresee the ranch house burning down, with her in it. I've told you this before.
It's
gonna happen."

Staring, cold and firm, into the eyes of Gordon, Brett took a step forward. He stood, legs spread, before his enemy. "Prepare to die. I'll kill you before I let you harm those I love."

"I won't hurt the kid. Sean is
Lorraine
's son and mine. We'll be a family. We'll be rich beyond our wildest dreams. She'll stay with me, you'll see."

"You're dreaming, Gordon," Brett said, stepping closer. "
Lorraine
loves money. Why do you think she left? We bored her. She likes fun, drinking, drugs, and money. She isn’t a loving wife and mother.
Lorraine
never wanted Sean. She admitted he might be yours, maybe mine, or several other possibilities. She used you like she used me. The difference is . . . I love Sean."

"You're wrong. I called
Lorraine
and she said she'd come back to me. I'm going to build her a beautiful new house. I’ll give her everything she's ever wanted and she’ll never leave me like she left you."

"You poor stupid fool.
When are you going to realize she doesn't love you? She's incapable of love. She easily gets bored with just one man. Maybe you deserve each other."

"You're jealous she chose me. Well, she did," Gordon said in a superior tone.

Brett shook his head, and then chuckled. "I'm relieved to be rid of her. I could give a shit, to be honest. If you want
Lorraine
so badly, why do you still have
Willow
? She isn't much use to you. You don't love her. Matter-of-fact,
Willow
is in your way as your wife, isn't she?"

"She won't be in my way for long."

“I know, you told me. But what if Wyatt's dead already?" Brett took a slow step forward.

"What do you mean, dead already? I just talked to him today. I didn't kill him, yet."