Sundown (19 page)

“Right on time.”  Luke
muttered. 

The jutting reflection of a rambling stagecoach, sputtering a cloud of dust sent him into action.  Lowering his spyglass, he motioned at Jake and Trig to take their positions.  In the distance, they heard the first sound of hooves pounding, and wagon wheels rattling and buckling beneath hard packed earth.  The stage was due in Adder Creek Station at noon, but the plan was to waylay the transport before it made a stop. 

Soon he could see two stagehands perched, riding shotgun with rifles in hand, and they looked alert, ready and waiting.  Of course, they would be.  News of the Shelton gang traveled fast, and far-reaching, and so he was not surprised in the least.

Luke rode ahead of his brothers, who followed close behind.  The strategy was to attack from the rear and take the stage by surprise.  Hence, they circled back until the stage passed and then before gaining notice, they rode right up on the vehicle’s tail end.  With adept strength, Jake road alongside the coach, latching his arms onto the edge of the vehicle’s overhang, he vaulted himself over the roof, stalking the stagehands unaware. 

The younger brother stealthy picked off each man, hurtling them through the air like rag dolls to the ground.  Taking the reins in hand, he managed the horse team with ease until the vehicle came to an abrupt halt.

Before the dust settled, Luke and Trig made use of their bandanas and dismounted.  Taking up the rear, they slowly circled toward the vehicle’s door, while Luke remained seated on the buckboard in a lookout position.

“Come on out!”  Luke hollered.

A strain of silence was the only reply.

Trig carefully aimed his pistol at the door, waiting for an order from his brother, but Luke shook his head, and lifted a hand, giving the occupants of the stagecoach a reprieve.

“Alright then!”  Luke shouted.  Taking a step forward, he continued.  “We can do this the hard way.  You’ve got five minutes, on the clock!”

Though the last five minutes ticked by slowly, Luke’s mind sped up in a surmounting whir.  He was certain the seed, which Jake had planted at Belle’s Bordello had taken root, and finally he would have Jack Rafferty right where he wanted him. 

For ten years, the agent had dogged at their heels, and with good reason.  During the war, his brother Cole had managed to dispatch of Captain Rafferty’s sergeant and partner in crime.  The murdering Yankee dog wanted to avenge his comrade’s death and finish what he started long ago, but this time he had it coming.  He would pay for the despicable act he committed against Julia, and most assuredly, his cover as a Pinkerton agent would end today.    

Jude Shelton crouched on hind legs.  From his position, he could see the entire scene unfold.  As the sheriff and deputy Coffee skulked, circling toward the edge of the road, he slowly counted down the minutes, watching his brother with his nerves on the verge of fray.

In the last minute, which ticked by in an endless haze, he suddenly noticed the black over coat, which his brother wore, and his trigger fingers spread wide with palms itching for gunmetal while waiting impatient. 

The unsettling feeling, which gripped his inner core, was nothing short of ominous.  Without thinking, Jude abandoned his hiding place and ran toward a break of trees.  In slow motion, he watched with trepidation as Luke snapped shut his timepiece.

“Time’s up!”

His brother’s insistent voice sent shivers down his spine.

Then the door slowly screeched open.  Flailing back and forth, the flap slowly squeaked subsiding half-cocked to an eerie pall.

“Out with your hands up!”

Then Jude saw him.

Jack Rafferty stepped forward with one hand in the air.  Something in the way he smiled made him cringe. When he narrowed those cold, and calculating, black Irish eyes, the Pinkerton agent stalked forward with lithe-like prowess, dragging beside him a woman with his arm crooked around her neck and the butt of a pistol lodged against her head.  He did not recognize the woman until he saw the look of trepidation in his brother’s eyes.  Once again, Jack Rafferty managed to outwit with treacherous means.

It was not supposed to be this way.  In her dream, she had been the one floating above, watching the scene unfold, not seized as a hostage in the center of it all.  Struggling against her captor’s vice-like grip, Arabella caught Luke’s gaze, his hardened eyes flecked over her, entreating her to remain calm.  She realized she had no other choice.  One false move and she was certain of her own ill fate. 

“At last we meet again.”

Luke’s voice rang out clear and concise. 

“Far enough, Captain.”

Rafferty drew back a sneer. 

“What are you waiting for soldier?”

“Let her go.”

             
Jack Rafferty did not wait for another word.  He whipped his hand toward another side pistol.  All of a sudden, Luke and Trig both fired their firearms.  Bullets trilled through the air, and then he hurtled backward, but the impact only hastened the Pinkerton agent’s fatal aim. 

“No!”  Arabella screamed. 

Without thought or even care for her own safety, she elbowed the man, managing to knock her abductor off kilter.  With little regard, he shoved her away, lifting his pistol, he aimed straight at Luke with lethal precision. 

Before he could pull the trigger, she soared through the air, and slammed her body against Luke, pushing him from harm’s way. Just then, a bullet ripped through her chest.  Searing with intense pain, she slumped to the hard packed earth.  Somewhere in the distance, she heard a round of bullets, though the dull buzzing sounds popped and echoed as if far away.  The last thing she thought, as her vision dimmed to complete darkness was none of it was supposed to end this way.

There was stillness in the Gentry house, which was eerily deafening.  Luke blocked out the nerve-racking silence by closing his eyes, and offering a tacit prayer.   He had never prayed harder in his life than at the moment, asking God to spare the beautiful creature lying feverish in her bed, wan and nearly lifeless.

“I’ve done the best I can do.”  Doc Hiram murmured.  Clearing his throat, he stood to his feet and then managed to say the
unthinkable.  “She’s in God’s hands now.”

Though he heard what the doctor said, Luke never let go of Arabella’s hand.  Instead, he held on even tighter, willing her to fight the inevitable.  Shot through the chest, the bullet had narrowly missed her heart.  Unbelievably, it was nothing less than a miracle she still survived.  Drawing his eye away from her ashen face, he caught the besieged consternation of her father who hovered over the bedside.  Luke gazed back, feeling the slice of his green-eyed stare, cold and relentless.

“I want you to know if she dies, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”  Wyeth stated whilst anger seared the confines of his control.

“If she dies,” Luke paused, his sullen voice painfully
guttural.  He bowed his head and slumped forward with despair. “You can hang me.”

“Stop this now.”  Lena ordered fiercely.  At the foot of the bed, she placed her hands on rounded hips and pointed at them.  “I’ll not have the two of you speaking of her in this manner, especially when she’s still here with us.”

Wyeth lowered his head.  Visibly ashamed and defeated by the sudden outburst, he touched his daughter’s forehead before soundlessly quitting the room.  Like a mother hen, Lena followed her employer from the room, leaving him with Arabella while Doc Hiram fastened his physician’s bag.

“Looks like you’ve gotten yourself in a
quandary.”

Luke narrowed his eyes, refusing to look up at the old man.  Despite his
own indignation, he respected the good doctor’s worth.  Squeezing Arabella’s hand, his voice softly demanded.  “Will she survive?”

“She’s a fighter.”  The doctor replied.  Shaking his head, he turned on his heel, and then paused before closing the door.  “By morning, we should know.”

Luke sat in stony silence. 

He had already lost one love, and now he was about to lose yet another.  Crying out with
anguish, he asked God to forgive his foolish impudence.

“Who are you?”  Arabella asked.

“A friend.”  An ethereal woman wearing a white gown smiled her eloquent eyes shown bright and mesmerizing. 

“Come with me.  I must show you something.”

“Where am I?”

“You are neither here nor there.”  The woman smiled, pointing in every direction. 

She shook her head.  “Am I dead?”

“Not yet.”  The woman answered, finding her question amusing, she laughed.  Taking her by the hand, she felt an instant swoosh, a vibrant electric force, which she could not explain nor could she fathom.  “Tell me, would you like to go back?”

Arabella shook her head.

“Of course.”  The woman laughed once again.  Her melodious singsong voice tinkled with pleasure.  “Your role there is not finished yet.”

“My role?”

The otherworldly woman nodded her head.  “Look and see.”

Misty clouds rolled back and the picturesque image of an adorable ebony-haired, rosy-cheeked girl struck her full force.  Without words, she quickly understood the child was her only daughter.

“She is going to need you.”  The woman spoke in the gentlest tone.  “There are many challenges, which lie ahead.”

“But what about …”

“Him?”

Arabella suddenly felt foolish for seeking more than she felt privileged to know.  Shaking her head, she posed a sheepish smile, but instead of
reproach, the woman only nodded her head with understanding.

“His role is nearly complete, but still, he will need you.”  Touching her face, the woman smiled.  “And so will your father.”

The woman quickly turned her head as if she heard a distant calling, and then squeezed her hand.     

“I must go now.”  She announced whimsically.  “We are always busy here.  You would not believe.  Remember Arabella, you are going back this time because they still need you.”

“Who are you?”  Arabella felt the need to rush.

“You don’t remember me?”  The beautiful wraithlike woman returned with a smile.  “We have always been friends.” 

Before Arabella could ask for her name, her essence of light grew
intense, and then with a powerful whoosh she turned into a bright glowing orb, and slowly faded away.

“But wait!”  She cried.  Trying to call the spiritual being back, she realized it was too late. She muttered regretfully to herself.  “I don’t even know your name.”

“Do not feel sad.”  

The voice seemed distant, yet at the same time very close and strangely familiar.  When she saw him, she could not believe her eyes.  Still the beautiful boy from her past, he smiled once she recognized him.  “Edwin?”

He nodded his head and smiled.  “Bella.” 

She looked at him with wonder, amazed he had not changed a bit.  Still young and vibrant looking, he floated beside her in a sparkling greyish rebel uniform, appearing exactly as he had in their youth.

“I am what you would envision me.”  He replied, obliging her obvious fascination.  Touching her cheek, he smiled knowingly.  “It is better you understand in this way.”

“Did you suffer at all?”  Arabella inquired curiously of his death.  She did not have to explain her meaning further because she knew he already understood her thoughts before she expressed them.

“Only for a brief moment.”  He replied.  “Think of yourself evolving, shrouded in a spiritual cocoon.  When it is time, you break free and transform into your celestial beauty.”

Arabella did not reply.  Instead, she marveled over his answer no longer afraid of this humanly thing called death.  Suddenly remembering the woman in white, she asked.

“Who was that woman who called me friend?”

His smile was all knowing.  “Julia.”

“But I don’t remember her.”

“You do now.”  He replied
reliably, turning his head toward a bright light he pointed toward an opening in the clouds.  He then reached for her hand, guiding her toward a whirling vortex, which beckoned only to her.  “He is calling for you.”