Page 86 of Wyoming Promises

“I don’t like it,” Frank said.

“Listen to your brother,” Jake added.

Bridger drew a deep breath. A sense of pervading peace filled him, but he supposed he might not feel the same if he waited on the outside while his friend or brother faced Ike alone, with the ladies between.

“I’m not going in by myself, you know. However this works out,” he said, glancing at each of the men, then at Lola’s dimly lit house across the street, “the Lord goes with me.”

A pause filled with the sound of spring peepers wasted precious seconds, and Bridger’s impatience grew. Every second they debated kept him from providing help for the women inside.

“I don’t like it.” Jake shook his head, stubble scratching against his fist like sandpaper. “But it might work. If he figures you’re working against him, don’t be brash. Do what he says, and try to get him outside without the women. Between us we’ll even the odds a bit.”

“Me, too,” Frank protested.

“Oh, no.” Bridger pressed against his brother’s chest. “You’re staying out of this altogether.”

A low chuckle came from Jake. “Sounds to me like stubbornness is a family trait,” he said. “We can’t leave him here, Bridger. Besides, he could come in handy.”

Frank’s collarbone jumped beneath his fingers with his firm nod. “We’re a scary-looking pair, remember? We got to stick together.”

Moments ticked. “All right, we’re wasting time. Frank, you stick with the marshal here like a burr on a horse’s rump, you hear me? You do what he says and stay out of trouble. Keep your head down.”

“I will, Bridge. It’s easier to pray that way.”

If everyone walked away from this, Frank might just be the hero of the night.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Bridger?

The knock at the door startled Lola as she and Grace quivered on the sofa. She glanced at Ike. His eyes gleamed over the gun barrel.

His patient wait felt days long, but the tick of the clock told her less than a quarter hour had passed. “Greet your guest, Lola,” he said.

She shook her trembling fingers from Grace’s grasp and eased toward the door. She prayed Bridger didn’t wait on the other side, but hoped no one else became tangled in the scenario. Involving Grace was bad enough, even with the comfort she provided.

“Everything all right here, Miss Martin?” Bridger’s greeting sounded stiff, but the lantern revealed a grim smile.

“Aren’t you needed at the jail?” she asked.

Ike pulled the door from her hand and swung it open. His gun leveled at Bridger’s chest over her shoulder. “Not so much as he’s needed here, darling. Come inside, Mr. Jamison. I knew you couldn’t stay away long with Lola involved.”

Bridger slipped through the door without a glimpse behind, and Lola’s heart sank. Wouldn’t he give a cue if Jake waited outside? Instead, he sent a sidelong glance her way and stood in the middle of the room. His narrow frame took new dimensions of strength in the light from lanterns turned low.

Ike cocked his head, and she returned to her seat next to Grace.

Bridger spoke to Ike but kept his warm brown eyes focused on her and Grace. He held out the envelope she’d given him earlier. “There’s no need to hold these ladies, boss. Miss Martin paid for this month, and she’s willing to work out a plan for—”

Ike shoved the barrel of his pistol deep into Bridger’s side. The jab forced a gasp as he clutched his ribs. Ike snatched his weapon from the holster he wore. “That’s no longer enough, Mr. Jamison. I’ve decided to collect payment in full...from all of you.”

Bridger stood to full height, his movements slow and breath heavy.

“You can’t kill us all, Ike,” he said.

“Of course not,” Ike said. “I’ll see to it your dear brother gets credit for that. Poor boy, rage forced him to break out of jail, killing the fine marshal. Then he came after you.” He clicked his tongue. “These poor women only happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Fortunately, I’ll wander in and bring him to justice before he can harm others.”

Grace groaned as another contraction hit her.

“What did you do to her?” Bridger demanded.

“She claims her baby is on the way.” Ike gave a disgusted sneer. “But that’s of no consequence now. Pity, though.”

Lola drew her friend close and wiped her brow. “She needs the doctor.”

“I’m all right,” Grace said.

Ike gestured the gun toward the two of them. “Get up.”

Lola dug her fingers into Grace’s arm. “Didn’t you feel anything for me, Ike? Why would you do this?”