Chapter Thirty-One

Days passed and became weeks which turned into months. Seasons changed. The cold of fall froze the dirty ground before the spring thaw brought everything back to life.

The early summer heat was oppressive and didn't bode well for the rest of the season. If it was a taste of what was to come, they'd likely all die of heat stroke.

Wyatt found it hard to care.

Zachariah had never come home. He had never sent word. It had been roughly eight full months and everyone on the ranch had begun to accept the fact that he was never coming back.

Everyone except Wyatt.

Even Eleanor had stopped talking about her brother as if he were a living person and instead referred to him in the past tense. She still didn't talk much, though she no longer acted uncomfortable around the gang. She did like to keep her body completely covered at all times—even going so far as to wear a long-sleeved dress with a shawl in the heat they were now experiencing.

She lived in Jeb and Gill's home. Her and Preston had formed a unique and heartwarming bond and Wyatt suspected that she was comfortable living with the two men because she knew that neither of them would ever show any interest in forcing her to lay with them the way Clint's gang had.

Wyatt hefted up the sledge hammer he was holding and brought it down hard upon the fence row he was driving into the ground. Thoughts of Clint made him want to have that man's head on the post he was pounding.

Wyatt's mind was sharp enough to know that Zachariah must have failed in his quest. He understood that, chances were, Clint and his men had managed to kill Zachariah—but Wyatt's heart was another story.

His heart refused to accept that without proof and Wyatt refused to force it. If he forced his heart to believe something like that then he would probably curl up and die. He had to believe that someday Zachariah would come back to him.

Laughter came from Jeb's porch and Wyatt glanced up to see Jane holding a giggling Willie on her hip as the boy gripped Preston's blond hair in his chubby little hand.

"Make him let go!" Preston exclaimed painfully.

Pete's laughter grew as Eleanor hopelessly attempted to disentangle Willie's fingers from Preston's hair. "Control your child," Gill teased Pete from the barn door.

Pete winked. "There won't be any such thing as controlling the boy," he assured him. "He's my youngin through and through."

Wyatt's lips curved in the ghost of a smile at the antics of his family. He wanted to join in with them. He wanted to feel like the light-hearted, fun-loving person he'd once been. But it was hard.

He missed Zachariah. Maybe if he knew... if he had proof that the man wasn't coming home, he could figure out a way to move on... Until then he was going to be forever waiting and forever wondering.

"You okay?" Craig's voice broke through his thoughts.

Wyatt glanced at the other man who was standing with a roll of wire in his hands, wrapping it around the posts Wyatt was pounding. They were making an extra corral to house the ponies that Jeb had ordered. All it had taken was Preston asking if he could have a pony to have Jeb ordering several of the beasts.

'Yeah,' Wyatt responded to Craig's question. Craig had been trying over the last months—he really had. He was still struggling with demons of his own and still tended to disappear for days at a time on drunken flings but he always made an attempt to check in on Wyatt and spend time with him.

Problem was, Wyatt just wasn't good company.

Craig sat the wire down and pulled his bandana from his back pocket. He wiped the sweat from his face and sighed. "Wyatt, you can talk to me, you know. I know you're hurting and want Zachariah to come back but....."

Wyatt shook his head. 'Don't. Let's just work.'

"I know I haven't been the best of friends to you lately, Wyatt, but I'm trying... I don't know how to help you."

Wyatt nodded and forced a smile. 'I know. Do you want to go riding tonight?'

Craig grinned. "Sure. We could camp out like old times. Play some poker, shoot at the moon and leave these settled down folks behind a while."

Wyatt felt a pang in his heart but managed to keep it from showing on his face. He'd give his left leg to be just like those settled down folks. 'Sounds good,' he lied.

The two men went back to working. Wyatt shed his shirt a short time later and his attention went to the claw necklace dangling against his chest. He hadn't taken the thing off since Zachariah had placed it on him and Wyatt didn't think he ever would.

Knowing he had at least that tiny piece of the man he loved next to his heart filled Wyatt with the smallest bit of peace. He glanced at his best friend and Craig smiled back at him.

Wyatt knew he had to get on with his life and head to start living again. It was time he went back to being the friend and family member that those around him had been missing for so long.

***

Jeb's heart had never been so damn heavy in his life as it was just now. Holy hell but how was he supposed to do this? How could he deliver the news he'd just learned?

He knew he had to. It had to be delivered today because waiting would only delay the inevitable and possibly hurt someone he loved even more.

Jebidiah had to let Wyatt know that the man he'd been waiting on so faithfully all these months wasn't coming home. Newspapers tended to tell the truth and right there in black and white, written in that paper he'd purchased, was the article about the death of a well-known bounty hunter named Zachariah.

While Jeb had wanted to believe it could have been a different bounty hunter by that name, the description in the article left little doubt.

The man Wyatt loved was dead.

Jeb knew this was going to destroy the man he considered a brother. Wyatt had been a ghost of his former self since returning home and seemed to only be living for the day when Zachariah would ride back in the way he'd vowed to.

Without that day to look forward to, Jebidiah was scared to death that Wyatt would, quite simply, give up.

He rode onto the ranch slowly, each footfall of his horse seeming to thunder loudly in his ears. Instantly his eyes found Wyatt. The man was shirtless and slicked in sweat as he used a sledgehammer to pound in fence posts for the new corral.

Craig was stringing wire along behind him and Jebidiah was shocked to see that the two men were smiling and laughing—almost like old times.

Damn that was only going to make telling Wyatt the truth that much harder.

Jeb felt Gill's eyes on him and he motioned for the other man as he rode into the barn.

"What's wrong?" Gill demanded, Pete at his side as his Jeb slid off his horse's back.

"I happened to pick up a newspaper in town," Jeb began as Pete began to unsaddle his horse. "Damnation, Gilliam, I don't know how I'm gonna do this."

Gill stepped forward and took Jeb's hands. "You don't have to do anything alone," he promised. "Now what exactly is it that we have to do?"

"We only get newspapers out here every couple of months so this one is from back in the early spring—" Jeb swallowed hard and pulled a sugar cube from his pocket before giving it to the skittish appaloosa Wyatt had gotten while he'd been with Zachariah. "Zachariah is dead."

A pin could have been heard dropping in the barn as Pete and Gilliam took in the news.

"Dead?" Pete whispered. "How the hell did he die?"

Jeb sighed. "The paper said he got in a shootout with Clint and four other men. Those men are dead too but Zachariah was injured bad and succumbed to those injuries later." Jeb stared hard into Gill's brown eyes. "How in the hell do we tell him that he's not coming home?"

Three sets of eyes looked out the barn door and found Wyatt. He and Craig were working together to string a line of fence wire. Gill wrapped a tight arm around Jeb's waist.

"Do you want me to do it?" he offered.

Jebidiah shook his head. "No, it should be me... just be with me, okay?" Jeb didn't care how weak or vulnerable he sounded—because it couldn't be nearly as weak or vulnerable as he truly felt.

"He has to know deep down that this was going to be the news he heard..." Gill spoke sadly. "He'll be okay."

Jeb shook his head. "I don't think so, Gilliam. Hell, if someone rode in and told me you weren't ever coming home..." he shivered and gripped the man a little tighter. "I reckon my heart would just stop beating then and there."

"Do y'all want me to come with you when you tell him or should I go let Jane know?"

"Go ahead and tell Jane," Jeb replied. "Just don't let Eleanor hear... If he's able, we'll let Wyatt tell her. If he's not then we'll let her know."

Pete nodded. He patted Jeb and Gill on the back. "Good luck... I don't envy you."

Jeb took Gilliam's hand in his and they stepped out into the sunlight. He paused, wondering exactly what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. Just as he was building himself up to continue on that walk, hoof beats thundered in the distance and then grew closer.

Instinct had both Jebidiah and Gilliam pulling their guns and then the figure neared and Jebidiah's arm dropped quickly.

"Damnation."

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