Page 88 of Wyoming Promises
Ike’s mustache shimmered as he spoke in the dim lantern light. “Isn’t this a perfect family reunion ? You may be a dummy, Frank, but you have impeccable timing.”
Ike swung the gun at Bridger with deadly intent. The glint of metal spurred a shriek, and she couldn’t be sure if she or Grace were the source.
“Give it up, Tyler!” Jake’s voice rang like church bells on Sunday. “You’re under arrest.”
The click of a hammer stopped her heart. Ike’s voice took a shrill tone. “You’re too late!”
A roar like a cyclone and heavy crash at her feet forced a scream. She raised the lantern to see Frank’s broad back crushed over Ike. Her former fiancé kicked and squirmed, trying to bring his weapon to the proper angle to fire.
“No, Frank!” Bridger’s fearful voice jolted her. “Jake, he has my gun. I can’t—”
The shot came quiet and muffled, yet created a sudden echo against her chest. She dropped the lantern as the writhing battle at her feet ended with sickening speed.
* * *
The shot shattered the night, and Bridger fell to his knees, heart frozen in midbeat. “Frank!”
His vision wobbled between the darkness and blow to the head, but he managed to grasp his brother’s broad shoulders and flip him over. Bridger wavered between drawing Frank in an embrace they hadn’t shared since boyhood and shaking him in frustration. Why did Frank insist on throwing himself into trouble?
Blood streaked the front of his brother’s shirt and Bridger jiggled his arm. “No!”
Wide blue eyes snapped open with confusion. Bridger crushed Frank’s head to his chest. “Thank You, Lord!”
Frank struggled against him, forcing Bridger away with a sudden jolt. He blinked, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as he patted his shirt. “I’m not hurt, Bridge. Stop smooshing me.”
But the blood? Bridger glanced at the porch where the women huddled, arms supporting each other and tears mingling. Shuddering, but safe. His breath left him in a rush.
Jake kicked Ike’s pistol away from his prone form and touched the man’s neck. Bridger caught his eye as he shook his head, a look of disgust on his grim face. “He’s gone.”
Bridger slumped with relief but took no pride in Ike’s death.
Frank trembled in his grasp. “I didn’t mean it!”
He patted his brother’s shoulder and pulled him upright on the cold ground. “We know, Frank. It was an accident. Ike did it himself. We all saw.”
He sought Lola’s face, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears, grief and shock. They looked large in her pale face, lit by the lantern’s glow and contrasted against hair that reminded him of midnight sky. He admired her beauty, but the quiet strength of spirit forged by fire drew his heart.
A cry of sharp pain brought him to his feet. The motion drew Lola to attention, and she moved to comfort her friend. “Let’s get you inside,” he said.
Jake stood at the bottom step in two strides. “Grace? What’s wrong?” Fear he hadn’t heard in the marshal’s voice before filled his tone.
“Get Doc Kendall!” Lola never turned from her friend. “The baby is on its way.”
Jake became a statue, his broad frame silhouetted against the lingering fog of smoke. “Now?”
A slow smile tugged Bridger’s lips. “Yes, now. You get the doc. Frank and I will take care of Tyler.”
Like a bullet, Jake raced toward the front of the house. A loud whinny and the pound of shod hooves soon echoed in the night.
Bridger grasped Frank’s fist in his hand and tugged his brother to his feet. “Come on, Frank. We’ll need to wrap the body.”
Lola turned at the back door. “Get a sheet from my front cupboard and wrap him, Frank, like we did before. Lay him on the table and I’ll take care of him in the morning.”
Bridger admired her no-nonsense tone but hated to think she’d be left to prepare the body of such a man for burial. Knowing what they had almost shared would cause pain; knowing what he’d become would bring regret. A woman of character as fine as Lola Martin shouldn’t have to handle such matters. Ike had at least appreciated her quality.
“And you, Bridger,” Lola continued. “Until the doctor arrives, you’re with me.”
Bridger gulped...and started praying for Jake’s swift return.
* * *
Lola draped a blanket over her friend and rolled her sleeves back. She had helped Doc Kendall bring several babies into the world, but between events of the evening and thoughts of doing this alone, her heart tripped faster than a downhill train.
Bridger bumped the door and maneuvered his way through with two pails of steaming water.