Chapter Twenty-Five

Brody's entire body hurt. The November air was cold and put an ache deep in his bones. His shoulder throbbed, his ribs burned when he took a deep breath and his limp was worse today as he walked across the frozen mud. Kansas in November was a cold place. The flat land offered no protection against the icy winter wind.

Brody tugged on his leather gloves and lifted the collar of his duster coat to protect his neck. His hair had grown back nearly to his shoulders in the four months since he'd cut it.

Five and a half months since Elizabeth had been killed and instead of lessening the pain, every single day that went by simply increased it tenfold. Every day just made the gnawing ache of loneliness grow larger inside of him. It was like a large, burning sore, that was slowly eating him alive from the inside out.

Brody had been riding from town to town, from Texas to Kansas over the last few months, searching for Vincent Hale. Now here he was in this tiny farm town with only one saloon and no lawmen. Seemed like the kind of place a hired gun might like to hang out.

Brody welcomed the warmth that the lanterns, fireplace and bodies provided when he stepped into the saloon. He had his face covered once again to ensure he wouldn't be recognized until he was good and ready to be. He let the swinging doors slam on their hinges and the entire saloon quieted instantly as all the men and the saloon women turned to look at him.

Now that he had everyone's attention he pulled the bandana from his face, "I'm looking for Vincent Hale!" he called loudly.

Most of the men shrugged but a few cast quick glances at a tall skinny man standing in the corner, "Hello, Vincent," Brody said to the man.

"Who the hell are you?" Vincent demanded as he swiped his hand across his large, cold reddened nose.

"I'm asking the questions here," Brody replied calmly. "I've been looking for you a long time."

Vincent shifted his feet as the men around him quickly moved back out of the way of any bullets that might start flying, "Well why don't you just ride on out of here and find someone else to look for," Vincent snarled as he lowered his hand so it was resting mere inches from the handle of his revolver.

Brody shifted his weight to his good leg, "You were involved in the abduction of Elizabeth McCready. You left her and I to rot in the back of a wagon in the summer Texas heat. Is this ringing any bells?"

Vincent's blood shot eyes nearly bulged from his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh I think you do," Brody knew this was Vincent Hale and he also knew that this was the fourth man from the wagon. He recognized his voice. "I just realized something else about you too. You're the son of a bitch that shot my arm." Vincent began stuttering and sputtering and Brody knew he'd spoken the truth. He hadn't really known before. He had just wanted to see the mans reaction to his accusation.

"I suggest you pull that gun and we settle this like men you yellow bellied coward." Brody said with ice in his voice.

"I ain't a coward!" Vincent bellowed nervously. "I never killed nobody, I rode away."

Brody's face contorted with rage as he fought to keep from drawing his revolver, "My wife is dead!" he yelled, losing the careful control he'd been holding onto. "And if you hadn't helped take her from that ranch it probably wouldn't have happened. Now pull your gun you fucking coward or I'll just blow your brains out while you stand there looking addled!" Vincent couldn't allow this man to sit here and call him a coward in front of all these men. He knew he was fast enough to probably take this man without much trouble. He sneered at the man and went for his gun but before he had time to even clear leather, the sound of a gunshot filled the air, sending a shockwave that swirled the dust motes floating in the lantern light.

Vincent felt the bullet tear through his chest, felt it shatter through his ribs, rip through his heart and then blow out the skin of his back. With every beat of his shredded heart, Vincent felt his blood pump from his body. He fell to his knees as his vision swirled. He supposed he deserved to die. He had shot the man and then left him to die. Vincent coughed and blood flew from his mouth and trickled down his chin. He watched the man, realizing he didn't even know his name, holster his gun, spit on the ground in Vincent's direction and then turn and walk out of the saloon, into the dark, cold, night air.

Vincent took one last breath of life and then fell face first and lifeless on the dirty wooden floor as his blood pooled beneath him.

***

Brody walked across the frozen ground, his limp more pronounced in this cold weather. His breath wrapped around his head in a white fog. He stood beside his waiting horse at the livery hitching post for several long moments. Slowly Brody rubbed at the aching bone in his thigh and rolled the muscles of his shoulder. Just one man left now and this would be over. Brody's eyes flashed with rage in the Kansas night as he swung himself into the saddle with one fluid motion and pointed his horse to the east.

Grant Foster had no idea that the devil himself was coming his way.

***

Elizabeth sat in front of the roaring fire and held back the drool that was threatening to pour from her mouth as the scent of baked ham filled the tiny cabin. She looked down at her sewing, resting on her ever expanding belly and sighed. By her estimates she was nearly six months along and all she wanted to do lately was eat and sleep and cry. Her emotions were mess and she blamed it on her condition.

She picked her sewing back up and shook her head at the rip she was mending in Sally's dress. Sewing was the one feminine chore that her father had insisted she master and Elizabeth had mastered it well. She only wished she had the money to buy the girls new dresses instead of patching up these old worn out ones.

"You sure there's just one baby in that belly, Liz?" Sally asked as she came and sat in the couch beside the armchair Elizabeth was resting in. Elizabeth smiled. Everyone here had begun calling her Liz, following Thomas's lead. She hadn't liked it at first but it was growing on her. A new name for her new life.

"I can't say for sure." she replied and she looked at the girl warmly as she laid hand on her belly, waiting for movement. "The baby, or babies, are being quiet right now," Elizabeth smiled down at her stomach, "It, or they, wait until I'm trying to sleep before they wake up and start beating at my ribs."

"It could be twins you know," Susie offered from where she was kneading her dough for bread. "Sally and I are twins and so were Catherine and Christine. It runs in the family."

"Two pieces of Brody," Elizabeth whispered as a tear formed in the corner of her eyes and she stroked her belly lovingly.

"Sally, get over here and help me! Jacob and Thomas will be home from town shortly and we need to have supper ready!" Susie exclaimed and Sally jumped to her feet and went to help her sister.

Elizabeth stared into the fire and thought about the word home. Home had always been the ranch. With her father, Anita, Braxton and the other hands. Elizabeth felt a dull ache in her chest as she thought about her father. She wished she could have been there with him when he died. The only thing that dulled the pain was that she had known for months that he was going to die.

The sense of betrayal and hurt over Anita and Braxton's treachery was a different story. Anita had raised her. That woman had tucked her into bed at night. Sung her lullabies when she couldn't sleep. Doctored her many cuts and scrapes and even her broken arm when she'd been six and fallen out of the loft in the barn. And Braxton? He had helped teach her to ride. He had helped her learn to herd cattle and brand calves. The fact that those people had wanted her dead and had led to Brody's death made her angry enough to wish them dead.... Then she felt guilty for wishing such a thing. Evil didn't fix evil and violence never truly solved a problem.

She would let Braxton and Anita have the ranch if it meant that much to them. She didn't care anymore. She was glad that Grant had not tracked her down but she had known he wouldn't. He didn't know a thing about Brody or his past. Grant would have no way of knowing that Brody had family in Virginia or that she would go to them.

Suddenly the door to the cabin opened and cold, frosty air blew in, causing goose bumps to form on her arms. Thomas and Jacob walked in and slammed the door quickly.

"Damn, it's cold!" Thomas exclaimed.

"Language," Jacob scolded.

"I'm a grown man," Thomas reminded him.

Jacob grumbled something that Elizabeth couldn't make out, reminding her of how Brody had always grumbled when she had made him mad. A sharp pain struck her deep in her chest, nearly making her cry out from its blow. Nearly six months and still the pain had not lessened. She no longer felt it constantly but, when it did strike, it was just as sharp and heart wrenching as it had been when she'd watched her Brody bleeding to death on the road.

After supper was eaten and the kitchen was clean Jacob cleared his throat and rose from the table "Susie, Sally, Thomas, I want to speak with Liz alone."

Elizabeth looked up at him with surprise. She and Jacob had become friends over the last few months. He had a lot of bitterness and anger toward his brother but he had been careful not to speak ill of him anymore in front of her. Jacob had the appearance of a man who used to laugh a lot but had been hardened slightly by the hardships of life. In that way he reminded her a lot of Brody. The brothers may not have wanted to admit it but they were very much alike.

Their only difference was that when tragedy had struck their family, Jacob had chosen to turn the other cheek and carry on with his life, whereas Brody had been hell bent for vengeance. That simple act had been more then either could forgive the other for.

Sally and Susie quickly left the main room and went to their shared bedroom, closing the door behind them.

"I'll go get some more wood from the shed. It's going to be a cold one tonight," Thomas said and he walked out the door, leaving Jacob and Elizabeth alone in the tiny space.

"Let's go sit in front of the fire," Jacob urged. He held his hand out to help her from her chair but she refused his offering and pulled herself up. She laid her hand over her large belly and walked to the arm chair in front of the fire. Jacob sat on the couch beside her and clasped his hands together nervously on his lap.

"I've been thinking a lot lately," he began.

Elizabeth smiled, "That's a dangerous statement, coming from an Atkinson man," she teased.

Jacob nodded and ran a hand through his neatly trimmed hair, "I've had an idea rolling around in my mind and I think my brother would have approved...." Elizabeth felt a sudden feeling of dread as his eyes met hers. "Your child is going to need a father and it's well past time that I find a wife..."

"No," Elizabeth said quickly.

Jacob's face fell and he looked down at his feet, "Can't you at least think about it for a while?"

Elizabeth stood up and shook her head, "No. My baby had a father and he or she is going to grow up knowing what an amazingly brave and hardworking man he was. I am not looking for a new husband."

"I'll be a good man to you, Liz," Jacob assured her as he too stood up, "I'll make sure you have everything you ever need."

"Thanks for the offer, Jacob, but I'm not interested," she said sadly.

Hurt shone in his green eyes, "Can I ask why? I thought we'd become close over the last few months."

"I'm sorry if I led you to believe I wanted to move on," Elizabeth whispered. She winced when the baby kicked her hard in the ribs. "I am still very much in love with your brother."

Jacob nodded and looked defeated as he sat back down, "Will there ever come a time you might be ready?" he asked and she shook her head. "Not with me, huh?" he added.

Elizabeth offered a sad half smile and laid a comforting hand on his cheek, "It's nothing personal, Jacob." she said. "You're just not Brody. No man is." With that she walked away from him and into her room, closing the door softly behind her.

Jacob heard her sobbing on the other side of the door and shook his head. "Damn, little brother, it looks like you finally did something right in your life. You got you one hell of a woman and she really did love you."