Seth (Prairie Grooms, Book Three) Read online

  Eloise swallowed hard. “Men came, locked us in the barn. Fire …”

  She saw his jaw tightened. “Yes, I know. Seven men …”

  “Yes, how did you …”

  “Because I saw the hoof prints in the barnyard. Sheriff Hughes is getting a posse together. I’m going after them, darlin’; so is Ryder.”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

  “We’re the best trackers in these parts, and we can’t sit by and wait for those stinking outlaws to come back. With as many cattle as the Triple C has, trust me, they will be back for more. But we’re not gonna wait for that to happen. Not after what they did.”

  “Seth … I love you …”

  “I know you do, darlin’.” he said, his voice dropped in pitch. “I love you more than anything, and I’ll see that the men who did this go to the devil.”

  “You’re going to kill them, aren’t you?”

  “I didn’t say that, but I am going to bring them to justice.”

  “Brother …” Eloise looked up. Ryder stood behind Seth, a rifle in his hand. “It’s time to go.”

  Seth nodded at him, and then returned his attention to Eloise. “We won’t be gone long.” He leaned forward and kissed her, soft and sweet. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Take care of Belle.”

  She grabbed his arm. “The man who saved us …”

  “We don’t know who it was. None of us can figure it out. But he won’t be hard to spot, I can guarantee you that. If he saved all of you, then he’s probably in worse shape than you are.”

  She nodded, not knowing what else to say.

  “One thing’s for sure though,” said Seth.

  She let go of his arm. “What?”

  “We all owe your rescuer a heap of thanks. If it hadn’t been for him, we’d have lost every last one of you, including Jefferson. I’ve never been so grateful to anyone in all my life. I hope we can find him, so we can thank him proper.”

  She nodded again. “I hope you find him, too, whoever he is …”

  * * *

  Thackary Holmes rubbed his sore jaw; it was getting better by the day, and he could chew things he hadn’t been able to for almost two weeks. He crawled out from underneath a rotting log where he’d made his shelter, and sniffed the air. No smell of smoke, no sounds of angry men hunting him. A few more days and he’d move on, but for now, he figured it was best to stay put. He removed the bandages he’d fashioned for his hands, and examined his wounds. “To think I used to keep them so clean …” he muttered to himself. They were a disgusting mess, and he wondered why he hadn’t caught some sort of fever and died. But burns were different than other wounds he supposed, and maybe one didn’t succumb to fevers so easily because of them. His hands would be scarred for the rest of his life, and he wasn’t at all happy about it, but what was he to do? Besides, he’d rather have scarred hands than a tormented soul, and had spent this last week under the old log thinking about it; that, and deciding where he should go.

  He stared at the gold piece he’d stolen back from Spider before they rode to the Triple C to steal its cattle. It was the only thing of value he owned. He’d gone from seeking Anthony Sayer’s vast fortune, to cherishing this single piece. How did it all change so fast?

  He’d gone soft, he knew, and done things he never thought he would. Such as rescue his cousins along with the Cooke women. Because of that, things were a lot different now. Gone was the greed that had mastered and enslaved him, replaced with a simple gratitude to be alive. He was free from Spider and his gang of miscreants, and vowed to steer clear of their lot from now on. Besides, they all wanted to kill him.

  Was it worth the price he’d paid, this new-found clear conscious of his? Or would he regret what he’d done? But saving the women did something to him, and Thackary couldn’t quite figure out what it was. The fact that they didn’t recognize him made it even better, sweeter somehow, and he was surprised that he didn’t crave recognition for his heroic deed. Instead, there was a simple peace that accompanied him now, one unfamiliar. But now that he’d had a taste of it, he wasn’t sure he could live without it. For, this new thing … whatever it was, kept him going, and he found he very much liked its company. But what was it? The only thing he could think of, that even came close, astounded him, and he puzzled how something so simple could be so powerful.

  “Humility,” he breathed as he crawled back under the log for a nap. “Who would have ever thought you would find me?”

  Back at the Weaver Farm, 1871

  Everyone sat, all eyes riveted on Tom. Samijo’s lower lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek. “What, that’s it? But what else happened? Did Cutty … I mean Thackary survive? Did those men find him and kill him?”

  Her voice was desperate, enough to make Arlan put his arm around her. “Shhh,” he said. “Let Tom finish.”

  “But I am finished,” said Tom.

  “No, you’re not!” cried Mrs. Weaver. “What about Belle? Jefferson? Those dang-blasted outlaws! Don’t tell me they got away? What happened when Seth and Ryder went after them?”

  “Whoa!” said Tom as he held his hands in front of him. “One thing at a time!”

  “What a beautiful transformation …” whispered Rose. “I never would have thought Thackary could turn around like that.”

  “Amazing what can happen once your life is whittled down to nothin’,” said Tom. “Strip a man of everything, and he starts to see what’s really important.”

  Benjamin, Calvin, and Daniel still sat in stunned silence. Tom glanced at them and smiled. “You three okay? You look kinda pale.”

  “I’m feelin’ kind of ashamed of myself,” said Benjamin. “I was hopin’ Thackary would get shot up, but now when I think about it, I … kinda feel guilty.”

  “Lord works in mysterious ways, don’t He?” asked Tom.

  The three young men, still silent, nodded.

  “What about Belle?” asked Samijo.

  “She healed up all right,” Tom assured her. “They all did, and just in time, too, on account the next three brides would be arriving in Clear Creek any day.”

  “Didn’t Penelope mention that the other three cousins were … what was the word, odd?” asked Arlan.

  “I think the word was eccentric,” said Tom. “They liked doing things differently, which brings us to our next tale. But I’m plum tuckered out, and Rose and I need to get some shuteye.”

  “Do they kill him?” Daniel asked, speaking up for the first time.

  “Kill who?” asked Tom.

  “Spider. I want Ryder and Seth to get him! Hang him from the highest tree!”

  Tom looked at the boy, or rather young man, as he placed his two balled fists on the table in anger. “Settle down, son. Rest assured; they’ll all get what’s comin’ to ‘em.”

  “Good, ‘cause I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink tonight knowing they didn’t.”

  Tom smiled at him, and nodded in understanding. He’d felt the same way, and could remember how angry he’d been when he and the rest of Clear Creek heard the news of what happened. It was because of Spider and his cutthroat gang of outlaws that he decided he wanted to be a lawman. Then he’d help rid the prairie of such filth. He remembered, too, how Chase the blacksmith had sat him down and talked to him, calmed him, and set him straight. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Chase Adams, Tom wouldn’t be here to tell the Weavers anything. But that was a tale that would have to wait until morning.

  THE END

  About the Author: Kit Morgan, aka Geralyn Beauchamp, has been writing for fun all her life. When writing as Kit Morgan her books are whimsical, fun, inspirational, sweet stories that depict a strong sense of family and community. When writing as Geralyn Beauchamp, her books are epic, adventurous, romantic fantasy at its very best.

  Be watching in August for the next installment of Prairie Grooms to find out (along with the rest of the Weaver clan) what happens when the next set of English cousins comes to town as mail-order brides!
In the meantime, if you love Kit Morgan’s books, check out her alter ego—Geralyn Beauchamp’s titles!

  Time Masters Book One; The Call

  Time Masters Two: The Prophecy

  Be sure to like Kit’s Face Book page: Kit Morgan